6 Chapter 6: PICK OF THE CROP: NOAH

"What's your name, honey?" I asked as I stared intently into her eyes. Her chest heaved for air after she let out a small gasp from my attention and I knew she was all in.

"Samantha." she replied, then flashed me a coy smile. For a couple of seconds, I was confused because the way she stared me down outside was way different from the girl in front of me. Then I realized she hadn't expected to snare me so easily and was having a starstruck moment before she not only regained her confidence, but actually took the lead in the seduction phase.

In less than three minutes from when I rescued her from the foyer of the concert hall, she was on her knees in my dressing room deep throating my dick like she hadn't had a meal in weeks.

Some girls surprised the hell out of me and Samantha had definitely been one of them. I'd expected a little more work to warm her up, yet behind the scenes she wasted no time at all before the sound of my belt buckle, metal on metal rattling, echoed in the sparsely furnished dressing room. She tugged at the leather strap and scraped roughly at my jeans in her frenzied effort to get her hands on my junk.

Samantha was a talker. No strike that comment, she was an informer. From the moment she wrapped her fingers around my thick hard dick every move she made she was preceded by a run-through of what was about to occur. "Let me take that fabulous cock in my mouth," and when she pulled me out again, "Damn, you're so thick my mouth aches."

Rising back to her feet, she rested a hand behind her on a small wooden shelf in front of the dressing room mirror, and carelessly wiped her mouth with the back of her other hand as she stared at me with a naughty look in her eyes. It was like she'd perfected her 'sexy-as-fuck' slut move and was used to performing oral sex on guys like me. I'd have put money on her being used to having sex with random guys.

There wasn't a hint of embarrassment or shame in her actions and my initial thoughts about the innocent looking girl in the lobby bore no relation to the one that had sucked my dick with the level of expertise she demonstrated.

"Do you want to fuck me, Noah?"

"It's what you want, right?" I replied, clarifying why she was with me.

I wasn't in the mood for games. She had my dick as hard as nails and it was more than ready to penetrate someone - anyone. Gripping her by the arm I turned her around and bent her over the dressing table, her head to the side with her cheek pressed hard against the mirror and I threw her dress up over her hips, noting her black lace thong.

I shoved my hand between her legs and heard her breath hitch in shock followed by a soft moan when I touched her warm wet pussy covered in a small strip of sodden lace. Pulling the warm slick material to the side I slid my middle finger down the length of her entrance and pushed two fingers deep inside her. Another loud relieved moan escaped her lips, "Oh," followed by a soft chuckle when her eyes met mine in our reflection in the mirror.

"What do you want? Tell me what you want." I commanded. I always sought clear instruction so that there could be no false accusations following any action.

"Fuck me, rock star."

Her demand was a first for me. No matter how many women I'd boned, I had never had one that had actually said those words, and with so much conviction. I reacted with a belly laugh because even if someone thought it they'd never openly say something so corny. No one except the crazy-assed chick in front of me.

"Damn, you really are nasty, eh?"

"No, just honest. Why don't you try being honest for a change?" I stopped still and stared at her reflection, confused.

"What? You think that veiled attempt at winning me over from your pathetic bodyguard washed with me? Or is this the first time someone has actually called you on that stupid selection process that just went down outside?"

A woman calling me out was fresh, and I was glad for the opportunity to be straight with her. Holding her loosely by the neck I pressed my dick hard against her ass.

"Alright, you saw through that, but you're here now and you've had my dick down your throat. Still want to fuck a rock star?"

Staring up into the mirror she raised an eyebrow, "And if I said no, you'd just shove yourself back in those jeans and let me walk away?" The tone of her challenge pissed me off.

"What d'you think? I'd force myself on you? Honey, you should go take another look outside. There are a few hundred women who would love to be in your shoes right now."

Raising an eyebrow, Samantha's lip curled in a sneer, "You're one arrogant son of a bitch, aren't you?"

"If saying that most of those women on the sidewalk want to fuck me is me being arrogant then yeah, I am... but I thought we were being honest? I was giving it to you. Your opinion is of no consequence to me. Anyway, the same could be said for you. You saw me and wanted me to do you, right? I mean the way you're dressed and how you willed me to pay attention to you. That was the call you made. All I did was use my judgment, and I figured you'd be up for having some fun before I went out on stage and seduced all those girls who I couldn't bring back here before the show."

Samantha lifted her head and turned back to me with an indignant expression on her face, "Get over yourself, Noah."

My dick went limp because the last thing I needed before going out to play in front of twenty thousand people was someone fucking with my mojo. And that's the only kind of fucking she appeared to be interested in.

Stepping back, I shoved my dick back inside my jeans and began buttoning the flies. She stood up straight and turned to look at me. When she saw what I was doing she hurriedly shoved her dress back down, pulling the hem straight.

Her angry face contorted. "So that's it? We're done?"

"Get out." I told her dismissively. Wandering over to a tan leather sofa I threw myself heavily onto it. "We never really got started, sweetheart. You're unreal. I'd rather be hard up than give you anything. Thanks for the blow job. There's the door," I replied and inclined my head toward it for her to leave. I pulled out my phone and texted Eamon to get rid of her before I stood again and headed over to the water jar in the corner of the room.

Eamon opened the door and without saying a word took her arm and began leading her out of the dressing room.

"You're a dick, you know that?" She spat. Eamon shoved her gently out of the door, and it closed behind him. I snickered and threw the water back. "Yeah, so they tell me," I muttered.