This Won't Have A Name For A While

6. Hungry Like The Wolf

I thought that when we got into the limo, we would’ve been alone, but that didn’t seem to be the case. Nick and his wife were sharing the car with us, and I didn’t feel in the least bit comfortable even with John’s arm around me. What made it worse was the awkwardness between the two band members, who weren’t on very good terms at the moment. Nobody in Duran Duran was.

I spent the entire time wondering what was going to happen tonight, and trying to stop myself from making my own advance on him. I wanted to spare Nick the pain of it.

The closer we got to the hotel, the more I began to feel John's hands moving. They started around my shoulder, but worked their way slowly down my side, and under the fabric of my dress. I couldn’t say anything, even though I really wanted to (although it might’ve only been John's name), and I was sure the other member of the band had noticed what John was doing. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to care, and let his friend carry on. I was extremely grateful, since John had slipped past other layer of fabric under my shirt, too, and I didn’t want him to stop. I didn’t know if I could make it to the hotel at this rate. Instead, I tried to focus on stifling any noises he was tempting me to make.

This was torture.

He carried on the circular motions and once I let a small sound escape. The other passengers pretended not to look at me, but I was absolutely mortified and turned an interesting shade of red - I couldn’t believe I’d just done that! I wanted to die.

After what felt like forever, we reached the hotel, and John seemed to be in such a hurry to get to the room. I was too, but I wasn’t going to show him that yet. He’d have to wait and see what I was capable of. He spoke quietly to me about something to do with our luggage, but I really wasn’t listening to that, and was instead focused on the way he spoke to me in low tones, which almost did more for me than him searching up my shirt.

The inevitable crowd of teenage girls was there, although I couldn’t complain since I was only 19 myself. The security crew helped us elbow our way through, and eventually John and I found ourselves in the hotel lift, finally alone.

Almost instantly I was back against the wall of the lift, John’s hips not allowing me to move even slightly. This time, his hands went to my hair as he kissed me harder than the first time, in New York. I melted into his arms, since I’d been needing this for months, even if I hadn’t known it. He was almost violent with his kisses, working his way down my face from the lips, down my neck, and stopping at my shoulder blade. I was wide-eyed as he did it, acutely aware of how he felt pressed against me. I’d never felt this way before, not about anyone.

I kissed him almost as hard back.

When he pulled away just as the lift stopped at our floor, he gave me such a hungry look that I thought I’d faint. Those poor girls downstairs would be passed out on the floor by now!

He set me free, and lead me by the hand out of the lift and into his room, where he closed the door hastily behind him. For a couple of seconds, I forgot all about him to admire the impressive view out of the hotel window, over the city below, until he tugged on my hand and pulled me onto the bed beside him. I thought we was going to kiss me again, but instead he talked to me.

–“After all this, love, I still don’t know your name!”– He laughed quietly.

–“I’m Irene, Irene Shaun,”– I told him, barely able to function. None of my body seemed to obey me.

He gazed at me, shooting me a look that was so suggestive I could’ve jumped into his arms right then.

–“That’s a beautiful name, Irene,”–, he smiled back, which made me feel light-headed.

–“Thank you,”– I blushed, still struggling to get the words out, –“I obviously know that you’re John”–.

He laughed again.

–“I am. But Irene is a beautiful name for a beautiful woman,”– he almost growled. Holy shit, that was hot.

I surprised him by replying with a kiss instead of words. It started out gentle, but quickly became harder as John responded to me, and he joined our lips almost desperately, closing his eyes. It felt amazing, and it felt even better when his hands clasped themselves on my back and started searching for a zipper on my dress. He’d done some amazing things so far just by touching me.

I found myself dreamily saying his name as he quite roughly moved us, so I was held underneath him as he laid us down. He deftly unzipped my dress and helped me out of it before throwing it across the room, still kissing me the entire time.

–“John,”– I breathed, once he broke away.

–“Yes?”– He raises an eyebrow at me suggestively, placing both hands purposefully on my waist