It was official. She was going to kill Steven. What kind of an editor would send a journalist to cover a story as vapid as this one?
Laura smirked to herself, disillusioned. The headline, "Derek Vega God of Sex, Prophet of Rock" was downright top notch for Glitterati, the turd of a tabloid she worked for. Beggars couldn't be choosers, she reminded herself. It was a miracle that she'd even gotten the job. A 25- year old community college graduate with no previous work experience truly was the beggar of the capitalist world.
After the death of her parents, she'd been formed to say goodbye to dreams of serious, journalism in exchange for being able to provide for her brother. Interning for a major mazing wasn't an option to those who needed to find 17- year old stoners.
It was because of this, that Laura Bale found herself waiting in line to see The Immortals play their first major New York gig. At an underground club like The Black Death though, the music simply served as an excuse for finding a hot body to grind up against. She looked down at herself once more, cursing Steven to yet again for sending her on a job that made her feel like Nemo on dry land.
Or Shamu, she thought, as she stared at the anorexic skanks lined up ahead of her. She was dressed in a black pencil skirt and a white, ruffled shirt, completely work- appropriate and reporter chic. She looked cute, at least by her own standards. Only cute wasn't going to get her by in a place that catered only for women dressed in napkins. Laura tugged at her shirt self- consciously and took a few steps forwards with the rest of the line. She looked down at her watch, thanking her lucky stars, that she still had 30 minutes before the band was set the begin their set.
What was the plan again? Oh yes, to spend 2 hours listening to some emo music written by a nail-polish wearing punk, and afterwards beg said punk for an interview. Laura couldn't help the grimace that spread across her face. She didn't even understand why this Derek Vega guy was worthy of her precious time. She hadn't even heard of him before Steven called her up today.
Apparently he and his band were the hottest new band in town, it was her job to see if the man lived up to the myth of a womanizing asshat. As Steven had vaguely told her, this Derek character was quite the ladies' man. Laura had rolled her eyes so hard on the phone at that, she'd been amazed that Steven hadn't heard it from across the city.
Why it was that woman were drawn to men who screams into a mic, while looking like angsty 13- year old boys? What was it about the mysterious bad boy persona that could cause a chain reaction panties dropping? At least you knew what you got when you went with the wholesome guy, she thought. Laura groaned audibly. Why couldn't her brain ever remember that the first and last wholesome guy in her life had also crushed her heart? Matt had left for 6 months ago, telling her that she was too focused on her career.
She'd found it beyond ironic, considering one couldn't be too focused on a career that didn't exist. The bigger shock, however, had come a week later when she'd spotted him making out with a girl consisting of only boobs and legs at a tiny coffee shop. She'd bolted and never looked back.
Men were evil, except for two- Her dear friends. Ben and Jerry. After what felt like eternity, Laura finally reached the door, where she swiftly waved her press pass and entered the stuffed inside of the club. She found herself cursing Alaric once again for not giving her enough time to go home and change her clothes beforehand.
The air inside the blub was hot and humid. She could feel her skin turn slick with sweat. She checked the time again. 15 minutes left before the show. She still had enough time to push her way to the bar and get a bottled water and got to the restroom before the band got there.
After succeeding in both tasks. Laura shoved her way to the center of the floor. Where she had optimal view of the stage. She ignored the catty looks she was getting from the horde of hoes scattered around the dance floor, not wanting to feel even more out of place than she already did. As she focused on the stage, she heard the techno beat in the background fade out and saw the lights dim. The people started taking their places beside her on the floor in anticipation for the band, and Laura found herself genuinely mystified by the ambiance.The people, or girls to be more precise, seemed genuinely entranced by now, as if they were a part of something bigger than themselves.
Laura mentally slapped herself. She couldn't allow herself to be swept up in the fanaticism of teenaged fan girls, she was a grown woman doing her job.
Ten seconds later, she was ready to eat her words as her jaw hit the floor with a loud thud. Oh, she understood it now. As Derek Vega, her story, took the stage, she felt mesmerized by his sheer presence. It went beyond his chiseled face, which came in set with the bluest eyes she'd ever seen. It even went beyond the ridiculously toned body adorned with tattoos and clad in only leather pants.
What it came down to, she noted immediately, was that the man had charisma. After adjusting his mic and briefly conversing with his band (whose arrival Laura had missed, a fact she was too embarrassed to herself.) he looked up at the crowd and gave a tiny smirk, causing the majority of the girls to scream like hyena. Laura covered her ears momentarily while wincing at the decibel level.
Were all the girls' teenagers? "Thank you all for coming," Derek began, with a silky smooth voice that made Elena want to do bad things, "This next song goes out to the pretty brunette in the front row." Lara looked around, bored, searching for the bimbo that caught his eyes.
As she scanned the crowd, she couldn't help but notice people staring at her incredulously. A feeling of dread washed over her. He couldn't possibly be talking about her, could he? She looked up at him, her eyes wide and inquisitive. Derek gave her a lopsided smile and winked, before starting his song. Laura gasped, feeling under his stare. She felt as if she was staring into the barrel of a shotgun, the rest of the room seemed to disappear, and she truly felt as if he was singing directly to her.
As the band started the first notes of the song, Laura was surprised by the mellow sounds coming from their instruments&hellip.She'd been expecting something…less intense. Watch the sunrise Say your goodbyes off we go.
Some conversation No contemplation Hit the road Car overheats, jump out of my seat. On the side of the highway baby, our road is long, your hold is strong. Please don't ever let go, oh no. God, was it possible for someone's voice to sound like sex? Laura mentally chided herself, she couldn't understand why she was reacting to him so strongly.
She was a professional journalist. She wasn't supposed to want to dry hump some tattooed up rocker, just because he was singing straight to her heart. Or to some other place that wouldn't be mentioned, Laura thought, as she shifted in her place, suddenly feeling…feverish.
When he hit the chorus, Laura forgot all her inhibitions and felt herself get swept away in his seductive lyrics. I know I don't know you but I want you so bad. Everyone has a secret, but can they keep it? Oh no, they can't. Her body definitely wanted to get acquainted with his body. Bad Laura, she mentally chastised herself. She needed to keep her composure if she wanted to bring in a decent story. Derek finished singing the song to thunderous applauds, and he took a big, theatrical bow in front of the audience which caused Laura to roll her eyes.
"Thank you." Derek smirked. "This next song goes out to…that hot blonde over there in the corner." And thus the moment was ruined. Laura was livid. She'd never felt more objectified.
How dare he…Well, she wasn't quite sure what his crime was, except that he was a bastard! Laura briskly, walked over to the bar and ordered another water, ignoring the voice inside of her that was telling her she was disappointed. Disappointed that she wasn't unique in any way to him. Not that she could expect that from a complete stranger, the attention however, had felt flattering. He's just like Matt, she thought, a pig looking for an easy lay. Laura stayed by the bar for the rest of the gig, not even bothering to look for his haunting cerulean eyes again.
As the show was about to close, Laura went outside to wait by the backdoor for the band to come out. Despite her personal feelings about the man, she had to admit, he was a scoop indeed. Their female readers would go absolutely crazy over him. The metal door next to her head opened with a loud bang, startling her.
Out walked Derek, the rest of the members of his band, and a flurry of what she assumed were groupies. Damon had his arms wrapped around the 'hot blonde' he'd dedicated his second song to. Laura huffed. She couldn't believe the nerve of this guy, what an asshole! As Derek was saying goodbye to the rest of his band and looking for his car keys, Laura decided to make her move. She didn't spend her whole night in this hellhole for nothing.
"Derek!" She yelled loudly. He turned around, confused, even more so when he spotted her marching briskly towards him. He dropped his arm form the blonde's waist and moved slightly away from her. "Laura Bale, I work for Glitterati magazine." She extended her arm.
He chuckled at her, not lifting his hand to shake hers. Laura felt her skin turn red, but she refused to back down. "Hello, Cutie." He said, leering at her appreciatively. If before she'd wished to have dressed more provocatively, now she wished she'd worn a parka. "I prefer Laura or Ms.
Bale, actually." She frostily replied. Derek grinned at her, looking pleased with an answer. "Okay then Laura, what is it that you want? An autograph? A kiss? A life-size poster of me to sleep next to?" "I want an interview with you, one on one." She said determinedly. Derek started openly laughing at her, "Sorry, the sexy librarian look is very convincing and all, but I don't need to give interviews to shitty tabloids.
And frankly, you and me, one on one? Neither of us would be talking, lover." His band started laughing at her and Laura could once again feel herself grow embarrassed. Don't you fucking cry, she told herself. She hadn't worked this hard in her life to be ridiculed by some womanizer thinking he ruled the world! She smirked to herself as she watched him fumble with his car keys.
"Oh Derek! One more thing How do you like the headline, 'Derek Vega caught doing drugs while doing jail-bait!' I think it has a ring to it, don't you?" She crossed her arms, looking more lethal than ever. He turned back around slowly, his blue eyes dark with anger. "You wouldn't dare, that's a lie!" Laura cocked her eyebrows at him in challenge and shrugged. "Who cares? After all, I work for a shitty tabloid, Princess." He growled and nudged the blonde bimbo away from him, "Find a ride home, Caroline." The blonde huffed, angrily stomping her foot.
"But Derek, we were supposed to…hang out tonight." "I'm sure you can find someone else to scratch that particular itch, Care, because it sure as hell won't be me." He smiled at her cruelly. Laura felt sorry for the blonde as she saw tears gathering in her blue eyes. The blonde stormed off, with one of the band members, a lanky guy with spiky hair, following her.
The rest of his band scattered off, quite obviously wanting to avoid the altercation about to occur. Laura turned back to Derek, "Was that necessary?" "It's your fault I had to do it." He counted her matter of factly. "It's my fault you're a piece of shit?" Laura asked faux-innocently. He rolled his eyes in retort and pointed at his car. "As you can see, I drive a sports car built specifically for two. Now, Caroline could've of course sat in your lap, but I wasn't sure if you swung that way." Laura could've strangled him.
Was he pure evil? He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, "Look, I've been up for 48 hours and I'm about to drop.
Do you want your fucking interview or not?" "Yes, I want my fucking interview." Laura gritted out. Derek hopped into his car and patted the seat next to him, "Hop on in then, baby." Laura rolled her eyes and walked to the other side of the fancy, red car. Why couldn't anything in her life ever go smoothly? (20 minutes later) He opened the door to his apartment and switched on the lights.
Without further fanfare, he walked inside and threw his bag on the floor. To say Laura was underwhelmed would've been an understatement. Empty beers cans and dirty clothes littered the floor of the spacious loft. The windows were dirty and she spotted dirty dishes everywhere. Oh god…that wasn't a used condom, was it? Laura didn't want to step any closer to find out. "I like what you…clearly haven't done with the place." She said, frowning with disdain.
She didn't live in excellent conditions either, but at least she'd made an effort to build a home for Jeremy and herself. Derek popped out from behind a corner, taking off the leather vest he was wearing. Laura could fell herself growing flushed just looking at him. "Jesus, can't you keep your clothes on?" She nearly screamed at him. Derek simply smirked at her and dropped the vest on the floor, leaving his chest and stomach completely exposed.
Laura worked to ignore the tiny sweat droplets on his skin, and the tiny patch of hair on his lower abdomen, that lead to his…Not going there. "Scared you can't keep your hands off me?" He waggled his eyebrows at her. "Ugh, you wish." She shook her head and moved deeper inside the apartment. She kept her heels on, not wanting to cut herself on broken glass or a…hero in needle or something.
Derek shrugged and moved to the mini fridge he had in the corner. "You want a beer, Laura?" "No." She immediately replied. "Suit yourself." He grabbed a bottle, slamming the cork against a counter. He flopped down on a dingy, green couch, once more patting the seat next to him.
Laura sighed, grabbed her purse and went to sit beside him. Derek chugged half of his beer down at once and sighed in appreciation. Laura looked away as she saw him flex his muscles like a cat.
She was a professional, she was in control of her base urges. "Do you mind if I use a recorder?" Laura asked in an attempt to break the silence.
Guess blackmailing celebrities with slander wasn't the way to go in winning them over, Laura thought sarcastically. "Nope." He said, popping the 'p' obscenely. Laura took out her tape recorder and turned it on. "Okay then Derek, how old are you?" He looked at her and raised a brow, "Seriously, that's what you're starting with?" "Several of his close friends can attest to Mr. Vega's perverse fascination with girl in schoolgirl uniforms, a kink caused by him not being breastfed…" Laura started prattling off, trying to keep herself from giggling.
He raised his arms in surrender, "I'm 26." "And how long has your band been doing music?" "Two years." "What made you want to become an artist?" Derek smirked, "The women." She couldn't even bring herself to roll her eyes this time, it was too predictable. "Sex, drugs, and rock n' roll, huh?" She asked. Derek shrugged seemingly weighing the question.
"Not really. It's not as glamorous as it sounds like." Laura scrunched her nose and looked around his apartment. "I can see that." Derek chuckled humorlessly. "Are you done?" She frowned, "No, not even close." He groaned and shut his eyes, "Woman, you are killing me." "In addition, Vega has been spotted in women's pantyhose and numerous occasions, a habit he learned while dancing with the Chippendales…" Laura trailed off dangerously.
His eyes bugged out comically, much to her pleasure. "Seriously, are you the devil?" Laura shook her head dramatically. "Nope, just determined to write my own story." Derek sat up and turned to face her, his expression sober now. "Look, I get the whole bitchy, assertive, social climber thing. But seriously? None of your readers will give a shit about my age or how long my band's been together. If you ask me, which you shouldn't since I'm drunk, you should dig deeper, go for the juicy stuff." Laura looked at him suspiciously.
Were her questions really that boring? She could feel her old insecurities rising to the surface. Matt had always told her to loosen up. Even Jeremy called her stuck-up from time to time. Could it hurt to go off book just once? There was only one way to find out. She took a deep breath, "Okay, just assuming I'm interested, what are you suggesting?" Derek didn't answer her verbally, instead he walked over to the counter and picked up a full bottle of tequila.
Laura looked him incredulously. He couldn't be serious. "You want me to go on a bender with you?" He chuckled, "How adorable of you to find me that uninspired." Laura frowned, "What then?" He walked over to her languorously, as if he was a predator searching for his prey and bent down to his knees in front of her.
"I want us…" Was he staring at her lips? "To play a drinking game." She raised her eyebrows.
"What! What good could that do? I don't even know any drinking games!" He popped the cork on the bottle and took a deep swig. "All the more reason for you to learn. Look, you want a good story, I'll help you. The rules are simple. You ask me questions. If I answer, you take a shot. If I don't, I take a shot." Laura still felt wary about the idea.
She didn't feel comfortable getting drunk with a complete stranger in his apartment. Was it even ethical? "Why are you doing this?" Her voice didn't sound quite as strong as she'd hoped to her own ears. He looked confused, "Doing what?" "Trying to help me." He gave her a smile that made her heart flutter. "It's a mixture of boredom and pity, unbeatable combo. Also, I wouldn't mind getting you hammered and having a naked slumber party with you." "No way!" Laura let out a very unladylike grown.
Screw uptight Laura. Screw ethics. Screw him. She grabbed the bottle from him and took a deep drink. As she lowered the bottle from her lips, she smiled at him dangerously. "Let's play then." (An hour later) Laura giggled and took another shot.
"Okay then! When did you lose your virginity?" She asked, clutching the bottle between her legs. Derek gave her his trademark smirk, though it lacked effect since his eyes were gazed and droopy. "14!" He yelled out gleefully. Laura took another sip of the tequila before smiling at him playfully. "You were 14?
God, you're such a…such a…manwhore!" He let out a snort, "What did you just call me?" Laura stood up and twirled a bit, "Hey, I'm the one asking the questions, emo boy!" Derek smiled, closed his eyes, and lowered himself on to the mattress he was sitting on. Laura pranced around his apartment, dancing and spinning. Why did she even hate Derek? He was such a nice guy, she thought to herself.
She danced back over to him nearly galloping with joy. Derek was so…Laura didn't have the chance to finish as she tripped over the bottle of tequila and felt her feet leave ground. She finally got to finish her sentence. Derek was so underneath her. Literally. Bye some cosmic joke, she'd landed straight on top of him and was now holding on to his muscled arms for dear life. "Woah, are you alright?" He asked, his eyes scanning her for any visible signs of injury.
Laura started giggling uncontrollably, "I failed!" Derek narrowed his eyes, "What the hell? Did you have a concussion or something?" Laura laughed even harder, burying her face in the crook of his neck.
Finally, she recovered and looked at him. "I couldn't keep my hands off you!" With that, she started laughing again with Derek joining her. "If it makes you feel any better, not many women can." Laura sobered up at that and sat up effectively straddling him. He gasped at her boldness, but she wasn't interested it that. She couldn't help but remember the way he kept dedicating song after song to different women at the club.
She was just that, one among many. She picked up the nearly empty bottle of tequila, "I'm curious…" She definitely had his attention now. "About what?" Laura looked at him with her big, brown doe-eyes. "Why did you dedicate that song to me?" She waved the bottle in front of his face challenging him to not answer her. He was having none of that. "I…honestly, I don't know." He stuttered. It was making her uncomfortable seeing him be this…well, uncomfortable.
"Lame!" She yelled out. "You better finish the rest, because that doesn't count!" Derek glowered at her before sighing deeply. "If I really think about it…You were just so beautiful that I couldn't bear the idea of not getting to communicate with you somehow." Laura chuckled mirthlessly. "I bet you say that to all the bimbos dumb enough to fall for it." "Would it make you feel better if I told you I did?" Derek raised an eyebrow at her.
Laura matched his movement, moving ever so slightly closer to him. "Would you be telling the truth?" Derek licked his lips, drawing her attention to his plump lower lip. "Nope. But…" She didn't know where this new-found boldness was coming from. On the record, she blamed it on the booze. Off the record, she knew she was only doing what she'd wanted to do ever since she first saw him. Laura lowered her face only inches away from his, enjoying the way she could feel his warm breath tickle her skin.
He brought his hands to her waist, where they strategically started moving south, before landing on her round, firm ass. Laura couldn't help the shudder that passed through her body. "But what?" She whispered. God, why did he have to be so devastatingly beautiful?
He grasped her ass and pulled her down further, allowing her to feel the bulge in his pants. "But somehow, I don't think you care." He said. Laura grasped the bottle in her hands, uncorked it, and swiftly finished it. She looked at him through hooded eyes. "You're right. I don't care." With that, she threw logic to the wind and kissed him with all she had.
After a second of uncharacteristic hesitation, he responded with equal favor. Laura could taste the cigarettes, the booze, and something indescribably him on his tongue. She could feel a fire starting to crackle in the pit of her stomach, a fire that wouldn't be extinguished by anyone but him. God, she really did belong to a trashy tabloid!
Derek tangled his fingers in her curls, and she moaned at the feel of his hands roaming her skin. He brought his hands to cup her breasts as she grinded herself against him, wanting the friction, no, needing it. He tore off the buttons of her shirt, effectively exposing her to him. "Hey, that was my favorite shirt!" Laura yelled at him and slapped his bare chest. He laughed heartily, "I could tell you I'll buy you a new one, but really, who are we kidding here?" "Ugh…you're so…Ugh!" Laura kissed him again and tangled her fingers violently into his raven black hair.
Derek smiled against her lips, "Right back at ya, baby." As her hands freely roamed the planes of his hard muscles, she finally reached her destination. Laura pulled down the fly of his pants and grasped his cock in her hand. "Don't call me that," she said, her voice low and dangerous.
Derek closed his eyes, allowing himself to get immersed in the feel of her hand wrapped around him. "Yes, Ms. Bale." He managed to breathe out. As she continued to work him to oblivion, he slowly started maneuvering her skirt up to her waist. His hands grasped firmly around her inner thighs, only inches away from where she wanted him, and he hooked his thumbs through her panties.
"No, no, no!" Laura managed to gasp out. "You are not ripping those, they were expensive." He started pulling them down her legs gently, thrusting into her hand playfully at the same time, "Looks like someone learns fast." Laura giggled and tugged at his cock a little harder than was necessarily pleasurable. His breath hitched and his eyes appeared almost black with lust. "You were saying?" Laura asked, attempting to sound collected.
Derek grabbed her waist and suddenly flipped them over on the floor, causing her to squeal. "I really don't give a fuck right now, I just need to be inside you right now." Laura shrugged out of her panties for good and hooked one of her legs around his waist, causing their heated centers collide for the first time.
She moaned and bit her lip. It was as if Reporter Laura and Slut Laura were battling it out inside her head, and she didn't know which one to listen to. On one hand, there was sex with hunk of a man on top of her.
One the other, was professional credibility and the chance to stick it to Derek, once and for all. "Well, aren't you romantic." She dryly remarked as she looped her arms around his neck.
"Thought you didn't care." He countered and slipped a finger inside of her. "God, you're so wet for me." She was. Laura stifled a moan. If that was what he could do with a finger…He was right. This wasn't about love or about connecting, this was about sex. Laura pushed at his shoulders and looked at him with feverish eyes, "I want you now." Derek stopped to look at her, his eyes searching hers, "Are you sure?" Laura growled in frustration and used her legs to flip them over once more.
With the momentum she hand build and spurred on by the tequila in her veins, she quickly impaled herself on his hard, thick member. They moaned in unison as her walls tightened around him. She looked at him and smiled. They were a perfect fit. It was quite said. "Please Derek, don't act like you care." She whispered. She didn't give him time to form a response, instead opting to ride him hard and fast. She was encouraged by the tiny moans and gasps he let out. Over and over, she slammed herself down on him, enjoying him, using him.
He pulled himself up to meet her, rocking her body against his. She let out a tiny mewl as he teased her breasts. "Fuck, Laura, you feel so good!" He gasped against her heated skin. She rested her slick forehead against his, enjoying the rhythm of their movements. She spared a glance at his face and noticed his eyes staring at her, with something akin to amazement.
"So do you." She whispered. It was as if she was back at that club listening to him sing to her. She was just…lost in a tidal wave of emotion. It felt as if a damn had broken and there was no way to hold in the inevitable. "Derek…" That was all she could say before her mind exploded into a supernova.
He followed her over the edge, falling backwards on to the dirty mattress with her on top of him. As they fought to catch their breaths, reality caught up with her.
What was wrong with her? She just slept with a complete stranger, a stranger she was writing a story on! Good job, Laura that Pulitzer's already on the horizon. Reporter Laura chided her. Well, he was pretty hot, Slut Laura chimed in. "Oh my God…" She breathed against his neck. As she felt his taut skin vibrate, she knew he was laughing at her.
She pouted and looked at him. He grinned, "I didn't you know you had it in you!" And they were right back to where they'd started off. Laura stood up and started gathering her clothes. "Well, this has been awkward enough." She lowered her skirt down her thighs and looked for her shirt. "Don't worry, you'll never see me after this.
I can promise you that." Laura picked up her shirt and frowned. It looked like it had been on a date with a mountain lion.
She showed it tom Derek who simply gave her his trademark smirk. "T-shirt, on the floor, in the corner." He pointed. Laura put the oversized shirt on, knowing full well she looked like she'd just been fucked. Finally, Laura picked up the discarded tape recorder and placed it into the safety of her bag. That tape had picked up some things she wasn't proud of. As she walked over to the door, she turned around. She couldn't leave without saying something, could she? "Listen…" She began, searching for the right words, "I just wanted to thank you for helping me with my story.
I know we got off on the wrong foot, but I really appreciate it. So, yeah." She held her breath, waiting for his reply. He remained completely silent. She was puzzled. Didn't he feel like gloating over her expressing her gratitude to him?
Her thoughts were interrupted when a loud snore pierced the silence. Laura gasped in shock and disgust, slamming his door shut loudly on her way out. Asshole! Author's Note: This chapter is completely written from the girl's POV because I just wanted you guys to know what she was going through that night. And I hope someone liked this story. And even one positive vote could motivate me to write another chapter for this. So…yeah, that's all.
Oh and a huge thanks to a friend of mine who helped writing from the girl's perspective. Unfortunately, she doesn't have an account here. So, I'll just thank you Liv, you're awesome. And to you guys who read this story till the end, you have no idea how much it means to me.
Have a great day or night! Oh and the song used in this chapter is Maroon 5's "Secrets".