Having tucked Erica into the enormous bed, with a glass of water and some Advil in easy reach, Sara had time to truly take in her surroundings. The suite was huge, twice the size of her and Erica's college apartment, and boasted three separate bedrooms, two bathrooms and two reception areas. The crowning glory was the floor to ceiling window in the lounge, from which she could see the sparkling lights of the city stretching into the distance. As she stood soaking up the view, Jack emerged from his bedroom. He had shed his stage clothes, and was wearing black sweat pants and a dark grey t-shirt. Dressed down, he looked like the boy next door, albeit a very handsome one.
“I don't know about you,” he said, “but I could do with a nightcap. Anything from the mini-bar catch your eye?”
“Whatever you're having,” Sara replied. The stress of looking after Erica had sobered her up completely, and she felt like a drink might take the edge off her nerves. Being alone with Jack Carter was something she'd been dreaming about since she was a teenager. She still couldn't believe it was actually happening. Despite all the conversations she'd imagined having with her idol, at that moment she couldn't think of a single intelligent thing to say.
“Scotch on the rocks, with a twist,” Jack declared, handing her a drink. Even the glass felt expensive, Sara thought ruefully. Jack stood beside her, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. It was so quiet, she could hear the ice cubes clink.
“I don't know how to thank you for tonight,” she said at last. “If you hadn't helped me, god know what could have happened.”
“Honestly, it was nothing. I'm just sorry that Michael acted the way he did. He's…man, he's not a bad guy. At least he never used to be. The whole fame thing just went to his head. We used to be friends, now I feel like I don't even know him any more.”
“Seems like a creep to me,” Sara said, taking a sip from her glass. She wouldn't forget the look on Michael's face when they opened the door, the way it twisted with spite. No shame at all.
“After tonight, it's hard to disagree with you. But I don't think he would have hurt her.”
“He was taking advantage, that's bad enough.”
“Sorry. You're completely right. I just…it's hard to think that someone can change that much. Can act like that. But the way he's been lately, I don't even know why I'm surprised.”
He looked genuinely upset at the thought, and Sara stifled the urge to throw her arms around him.
Instead she touched him gently on the arm.
“Hey, no harm done. Erica will have a headache and a good story to tell.”
“And now I'm here with you. That counts as a happy ending in my book.”
Sara looked up at him, her eyes wide with surprise.
“Sorry,” Jack said, “I shouldn't have said that. I meant what I said earlier, I just wanted to help you out.”
“I know you did,” Sara said softly. “You really are full of surprises Jack Carter. I came here tonight just hoping to see you up close. Maybe get an autograph. And now here I am, in this crazy hotel room, sipping scotch with a rock star.”
“The rock star's the guy you see on stage. Right now, I'm just plain old me. A little tired, a little stressed and a little nervous about talking to a beautiful woman.”
It was a cheesy line, but Sara couldn't help but blush. She wanted to pinch herself.
“Is it really all it's cracked up to be, this life? Fame and fortune?”
Jack considered for a moment.
“I can't complain, Sara. I've got all the money I need, I get to travel. I get to make music, which is all I ever wanted. The fame part gets boring after a while, I'll tell you that. Never having a moment to yourself, never being in one place for any length of time. It's fun, sure, but it does get lonely. It can be hard to get close to people.”
“That must be difficult.”
“Sometimes. But still, I know I'm lucky.”
“I'm sure you're sick of hearing this question, but…Back Track. What is it about that song, Jack? When you were playing it tonight, it seemed really difficult for you. Or was I imagining it?”
Jack exhaled and took another long swig of his scotch.
“You weren't imagining it. That song…it's very personal to me. I wrote it about someone I loved. Someone who isn't in my life any more.” Jack trailed off, unsure how to continue.
“You don't have to tell me about it if you don't want to. I just wondered…you seemed so sad.”
Jack looked into Sara's eyes, brimming with compassion. For whatever reason, he felt he could trust her, and he had an urge to tell her everything. About Laura, about the song, about the bridge. Somehow he felt like she might understand. Might care. But he couldn't. He didn't even know her.
“It's not that I don't want to…I just don't know how to. I'm sorry.”
With uncharacteristic boldness, Sara reached up and stroked his hair.
“Don't be sorry,” she whispered, “there's nothing to be sorry for.”
Jack took in her beautiful face, felt the softness of her touch, and despite himself he couldn't hold back any longer. He leaned forward and kissed her on the mouth, softly at first, growing more intense as he felt her respond. He pulled her closer, the curves of her body pressing against him as they relaxed into each other. His hands roamed over her body, stroking their way down her back to cup her tight backside. Reluctantly, Jack pulled back from their kiss and looked her in the eye.
“Are you sure?” He said, not wanting her to feel pressured.
“Yes. Oh yes.”
“Thank God.”
Sara let out an involuntary moan as Jack's tongue invaded her mouth, his hands continuing their exploration. She had idolised the swaggering rock star for so many years, but it was the real, vulnerable man who now fascinated her. She slid her hands under his shirt, her fingers tracing his solid abs, stroking the coarse hair that formed a trail down his belly. The thought of what lay at the end of that trail filled her with lust, and she returned his kisses with even greater fervour. Jack kissed his way down the soft skin of her neck and along her delicate collarbone, while his hands found her full breasts. Sara moaned as he massaged them, teasing her erect nipples through her clothing. He reached around to unhook her bra, and deftly removed her shirt, so she stood in only her leather pants in front of the enormous window. Instinctively her arms moved to cover herself.
“Relax,” Jack said softly, “ nobody can see us up here.” He took her hands and gently moved them away from her breasts, replacing them with his mouth. He kissed the soft skin, toying with her nipples with his tongue until she gasped. Sara was overflowing with desire, desperate to be taken by this beautiful, complicated man.
Without moving his mouth from her breasts, Jack's fingers found the zip of her pants, and he slid them off her slim hips to fall in a heap on the carpet. Now she stood before him, clad only in a white lace thong which grew more transparent by the minute as her juices flowed. Jack groaned, part of him wanting to push her up against the glass and fuck her there and then. But she was so stunning, and he wanted to make it last. Trailing kisses down her flat stomach, he pushed his face between her legs, tracing his tongue over the flimsy fabric of her underwear. God, she smelled incredible. He grasped her panties with his teeth, meaning to pull them aside, but as he tugged the fabric tore clean in two. Beyond caring, Jack thrust his tongue between her legs, finding her swollen clitoris and circling it until she cried out with pleasure. He slipped two fingers into her wet opening, slowly pumping them in and out while he continued to lick her in increasingly frantic strokes. Sara had her hands on his head, urging him on, lost in the incredible sensations coursing through her body. She could feel the pressure building inside her as he licked and sucked, his fingers threatening to send her over the edge. But he wasn't finished with her yet. Suddenly Jack stood and swept her up in his arms, planting a kiss on her lips as she did so. The musky scent of herself on his mouth only heightened her arousal. He carried her into the bedroom, and threw her down on the emperor sized bed.