| "I don't kiss." The model pulled back, her aqualine features contorted with confusion. She pulled her long, blonde hair away from her neck and studied the singer in front of her. "Excuse me?" she asked, her cheeks turning blush. JC laughed, a short, easy going chuckle. "I don't kiss," he repeated, wrapping his fingers in her hair and tugging her back to her knees. She returned to the job at hand, pleasuring him with her mouth. Still, she couldn't help but wonder just what he meant. Curiosity gained the better of her and she stopped what she was doing, her pale, grey eyes gazing up at him. "Ever?" He sighed, his patience wearing. Why did they always want to kiss. This wasn't love, it wasn't even really like. It was just a random sexual act, one he did not believe in wasting kisses on. Kisses were sacred, for the one you loved, the one who was true. Not some girl who dropped to her knees just to say she had him. Hell, she'd be blabbing it all over in the morning. No, he'd learned the hard way. No kissing. "No, not ever," he said, pushing her head back down. Why he even bothered was beyond him. Sometimes it just wasn't worth it. "Do you want to talk or fuck?" he asked roughly, reaching for his half empty beer bottle. Taking a healthy swig, he wondered idilly how much longer it would be before someone noticed he was gone. They didn't care, really, just as long as he was reachable. The back room of this stadium was reachable, wasn't it? The model stood up, a pout crossing her full lips. She was unused to being talked to like this, celebrity or not. "I'm not doing anything if you won't kiss me," she explained, bending down to pick up her discarded halter top. "I don't have cooties for fuck's sake." See? That's just what he was talking about. How could he be expected to kiss a girl who threw around curse words like that. He had his rules. Just like Joey wouldn't go down on a girl, not unless he was in really big like with her, or Lance holding hands. He'd screw the girl, but only held hands with a woman he cared about. They all had their "things". With him, it was kissing. JC groaned, sitting up straighter and placing his beer back down on the table. "It's nothing personal," he explained, not quite apologetically, but nicely all the same. Grabbing her hand, he tossed her halter back to the floor. "Come on. I still have almost 20 minutes." He smiled sweetly, hoping his charm would get this chick back on her knees, or better yet, on her back. She was totally desirable, not just a groupie, but a model. That was something, well, to him at least. He rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb and tilted his head. "Please?" he asked, not ready to call it yet. She squinted at him from underneath her long eyelashes. "I don't know," she started. JC pulled her down on his lap. "I know you want to, kissing or not. I see it in your eyes." She touched his chin with her fingertips, tracing a line up to his lower lip. "What's so great about these lips anyway?" she murmered lowly. JC bit the tip of her finger lightly before tipping her back onto the soft leather couch. "Nothing. Now this," he commented, placing her hand between his legs. "This is what I'm known for. This won't disappoint you." He heard the small sigh of resignation, and was pleased that she was giving up on the kissing thing. The moment was his, and he climbed on top of her, glancing at the ugly clock on the wall. It was nearing show time. Only 20 minutes to go. Quickly, he pulled his pants down, preparing to get to work. Kissing not included. "JC? You in there?" JC ignored the voice. Just a few more minutes and he'd be there. He prayed Justin's voice would go away. "JC?" Fuck, just a little longer. He just needed another minute or two of quiet. This girl was whimpering slightly, a sign he didn't care to read. But Justin, his voice was throwing him off. Shut up, he wanted to shout. He lifted the model's legs to gain deeper access and help him along. That combined with thoughts of the porno movie of Chris' they'd watched earlier on the bus sent him sailing, and he let out a satifacory grunt, collapsing back. "JC!" "What!" he yelled, pulling his pants up and climbing off. "What the hell do you want?" "Just checking to see where you were. You're supposed to be reachable before showtime. You're gonna be late again." JC took a big breath, wiping the beads of sweat from his lip. "I'll be right there." He stood up and searched for his shirt, which had been the first article of clothing discarded. "Will you be okay?" he asked, tossing her clothes to her. She stared at him, annoyed to say the least. Not only had the entire thing taken only 9 minutes, but she hadn't even come close to orgasm. So much for pop star love. "Fucking fine," she snapped, dressing quickly. She threw her backstage pass at him. "I won't be needing this. I'm outta here." JC threw his hands up as she stormed from the room, knocking Justin to the side. He exited the room and shook his head, buckling his belt. "Shit, what's her deal?" Justin asked, checking out her ass as she flew down the hallway. "I wouldn't kiss her," JC stated simply. WIth that, he looked at his friend, and they both laughed. "Come on, let's go." JC followed Justin back up to the dressing room area, and pondered the idea of ever kissing again. He hoped he'd find someone worthy of his lips. Soon. |
| NO KISSING by destiny |