Disclaimer: Richelle Mead owns VA. I only own the plot of this story… and well, makeshift Enrique.
"Oh yes I like it, screamin' like never before…" I sang into the microphone, a wide grin spreading across my face as our voices blended perfectly. I swayed my hips and jammed out to the music, reveling in the feel of the wind blowing against my face.
Secretly, I was thanking God that I had decided to dress up for this concert.
.
.
"Girl please excuse me if I'm misbehavin' oh, I'm trying to keep my hands off but you're beggin' me for more…"
Enrique's hands slid down to my waist, eliciting even louder screams from the female population as I shook my hips to the music, closing my eyes and laughing.
I hadn't had so much fun in a while.
In a blissful daze, my eyes slid open, my gaze falling straight on a couple in the crowd.
.
.
.
Like any normal loving couple, the man and the woman were kissing.
Like any normal loving couple, they were not paid any attention by the crazed crowd.
Like any normal loving couple, they were groping each other, sucking faces affectionately.
Immediately, I felt my stomach turn, my earlier doughnuts threatening reappearance.
Dimitri and Tasha.
The dark brown waves were unmistakable-as was her black chopstick-straight hair. His hands were all over her. The two of them seemed to be lost in their own private little world as they kissed in the middle of the crowd.
I felt my heart clench, blood draining out of my face.
Swallowing hard, I decided I really didn't want to be on the stage any longer.
.
.
I hopped backstage, trying and failing to get rid of the horrid images replaying before my eyes. I had no idea why it bothered me so much. He was a fucking hot foreign hunk, she was a statuesque internationally-known model.
It only made sense that they'd be together.
Distracting me, Enrique kissed my hand gently before releasing it. "Hey… Enrique, why did you pick me of all people?"
"I've seen you in the papers and at your concert," Enrique smiled, adjusting his black biker jacket. "You sing really well, Rose."
"Right… Thanks." I laughed.
"You don't have to be so shy… I won't bite. Well, not unless you want me to… …" Enrique chucked me the standard pick-up line, complete with a flirty wink.
"Very original, Iglesias." I snorted un-girlishly, guffawing lightly as he slung an arm around my shoulders.
As we headed down the stairs, cameras clicked everywhere, sending blinding flashes of light that made me cringe and shield my eyes. I felt something hard being pushed into my hand and I put it on, after identifying it as a pair of sunglasses. Enrique's arm tight around me, we quickly hightailed it out of the concert venue, dodging along dark alleyways and finally coming to a stop in one.
I panted, sinking against the brick wall as Enrique checked the corner for more paparazzi. "Have we lost them?"
"I think so." Enrique murmured, leaning against whatever was behind him.
Which happened to be me.
"Oh-I'm sorry-" I gasped, lying on the ground, as he pushed himself off me. "I'm sorry," He said sheepishly.
Right then, I noticed the position we were in-a very compromising one at that.
Enrique's legs were currently straddling my hips, his hands holding my shoulders in a firm grip, making his biceps pop out. His jeans hung low on his hips, his torso tensed. His eyes had gone dark and hooded with lust as he stared at my eyes, gaze travelling down to my lips.
He, apparently, had also noticed our proximity.
Without further thought, he leaned forward and pressed his full lips against mine, his hands snaking into my hair. Ruled by my hormones, I sighed, melting into his hot kiss and the way his hands massaged my scalp. I let my hands run down his back, creating gathers in his shirt as they landed on his bare back.
He hissed into my mouth, deepening the kiss, sliding his tongue across my bottom lip, begging for entrance. I complied, reciprocating to his touch and the way it left me breathless. I kissed him back feverishly, with an almost crazed passion.
However, something about my intentions felt wrong.
.
.
"Wh-" The voice trailed off, the footsteps coming to a stop.
Enrique immediately jerked off me in shock, trying subtly to adjust his jeans to hide his excitement as he stood up. I flushed, pushing myself up and off the ground. "Tasha?" I asked coolly, eyeing the woman who was now standing a few metres away from us.
"Tash?" To my horror, Dimitri skidded to a stop behind her, one hand clutching her arm. I flinched away from his piercing gaze, feeling somehow dirty.
Like I'd done something wrong.
I was sure of what he saw-my sexed-up hair, swollen lips, Enrique's crumpled shirt and his glittering eyes.
I swallowed back a lump in my throat, inhaling deeply, uncomfortable. It was rather obvious that Dimitri and Tasha had come here to do what Enrique and I were just doing. "What're you guys doing here?" I asked, trying to diffuse the tension, which was thick in the air.
Dimitri's eyes hardened, glittering in fury as he stared at Enrique, who was making direct eye contact with him, unafraid.
I, however, was scared for Enrique's life.
Dimitri's posture was tense, his fists clenched by his sides. His dark brown hair hung partly over his face and fell onto his shoulders, casting a shadow across his features and making him look all the more menacing.
Slowly, Dimitri bit out, "I could ask you the same thing."
The coldness and steel like tone of his voice caused a wave of anger to surge up in me. Irritation pumping through my veins, I replied, sounding equally cold. "Avoiding paparazzi, of course. Some of us don't like shoving our faces into popularity."
Saying that, I was actually trying to insult Dimitri based on when he was kissing Tasha in public. Apparently, he realized that too, his eyes flashing dangerously.
"It certainly didn't look like you were avoiding paparazzi."
"You bastard," I stepped forward, my fist coming up, ready to plant itself into the hot-but-annoying-as-hell ass's face. "You are my teacher. You have no right to control my love life. It's none of your business."
Behind me, I noticed Enrique shuffling his feet uncomfortably. Dimitri's jaws clenched tight as he glowered at me. I tensed too, staring right back at him, daring him to fight back.
Somehow, I wasn't surprised when he grabbed Tasha's shoulder and steered her away.
"He seems… rather protective of you," Enrique looked at me carefully, his dark eyes probing mine. I chuckled nervously at his statement. "He's really… …" I thought over my words carefully, not wanting to say something that could land me in trouble. "Difficult."
"Difficult." Enrique repeated softly, seeming like he didn't believe me at all. After seeing me stubbornly press my lips together in a hard line, he gave up and nodded, looking away.
Fuck Tasha, I thought, sick of the confusion. Fuck Dimitri. Fuck it all.
"Ready to go for a second round, Iglesias?" Seductively, I trailed my fingertips up his chest, eliciting a hiss from him as his arms encircled my waist as his lips smashed themselves to mine.
Enrique was a fantastic kisser, I'd give him that.
But something, that same something I'd felt earlier, was telling me that I shouldn't have been doing that.
.
.
.
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A/N: I'm kinda sad right now, cause of reasons which I'm sure you guys know (**cough** reviews **cough**)
Anyway, I'm speeding up the story and beginning to bring in the drama.
Please review for the next chapter!