Oreos for Breakfast - Chapter 9
By The Paperbag Princess and The Pumpkin Coach

Corresponding KTBPA Message Board Posts (Fictional!)

Page 1 | Page 2 | Page 3 | Page 4

Was that really us? My little bar band was running across the screen and I barely recognized my boys. Darien was wearing the same shirt now, but on the TV he looked so much more… more… like a rock star? Out of the corner of my eye, I caught James smiling. Not just smiling, damn near giddy. I reached over and took his hand and he squeezed it so hard, I thought I was going to lose all feeling in it.

The screen went blank and we all just stared at the TV, silence surrounding us as the final chords dissipated in the air.

"Damn," I heard someone whisper.

"That was…"

"Fabulous." I whispered back. "Fucking fabulous. I am so gonna name my first born after Em fucking Evesham. She even made you look cute!" I grinned at James and he pretended to try and hit me, but caught me in a huge bear hug instead. I screamed against his chest and stamped my feet against the floor like a four year old.

It was too real. We were about to release a fucking video. We'd been headlining for a couple of weeks, but it was only a small club tour. It was great to get a whole 90 minute set and a rider and shit, but we were used to playing these venues. But a video? Damn, that was something.

"Hey! I looked sexy, Rache!" James whined and I looked up at him and just nodded.

"Whatever you say, gay boy. JC fucking Chasez is not going to come knocking on your door, you circus freak!" Darien yelled, trying not to laugh too hard. "What are you, like 7 feet tall on camera?"

"They say the camera adds ten pounds, but on James, that's converted into feet!" Jeremy joined in, then held his hand up and D slapped it.

Oh, these were so my boys.

I leaned up and planted a kiss on James' cheek, "James, baby, you are always sexy. JC will turn gay just for you, dear."

"Turn? Do you not watch the videos, Rache?" Jeremy joked from his perch on the bed and Darien reached over and slapped his back.

I stole at glance at Jeremy for the first time since the video began and he looked… ecstatic. It had been a while since I'd seen him look this happy. He grinned at me and jumped up from the bed, hitting the rewind button on the VCR and looking up at Lola, rubbing his hands together, full of nervous energy, "What next?"

"Well, Amber will be calling tonight. She'll want your opinion on the video and any reshoots…"

"Which she'll ignore," James interjected and Lola smiled at him.

"Well, record company usually gets the last say in these things, yes."

"Bet Nick gets to demand reshoots," I mumbled under my breath and Darien hit me.

"What's wrong with it, Rache?"

What? Damn. "Nothing, it's fabulous. It's wonderful. I love it."

I looked over at James, "I want to see it again and again, it's better than Cats!" We crowed together, bursting into giggles and making Darien and Jeremy roll their eyes. Even they hated it when we went all James and Rachel on them.

I looked up at Lola, "Well, it's just that… they ask our opinion about everything, right?" She nodded, "And does it really count for anything? I mean, they are just going to do what they want, right?"

Lola nodded, "Probably. But you'll sell a few more records, get out of debt to them… and then you'll have some say, Rache. Pick your battles."

"What battles?" James questioned, "You like the video, Rache!"

"I know," I shrugged. I kind of liked it when EMI just ignored us and we got to do what we wanted and now…

The sound of my own voice from the direction of the TV pulled me out of my thoughts and I looked back to the screen. Jeremy had pressed play again and my face took up the whole shot and then was replaced by a quick shot of Jeremy looking up at the camera from beneath his fringe. My stomach tightened and I looked over at him quickly. He smiled slowly and I had to grin back. Damn, I loved that look and he knew it. Apparently Em liked it, too. She put like 4 shots of him doing it in the video.

But now we got videos and headlining gigs and a tour bus instead of the tiny little van. That was okay. And Lola, she took care of all the little things that I used to do. Maybe I was just bored and missing Nick.

That was it, I knew it. As soon as the video started, I'd reached in my pocket for my phone, wanting to call Nick and tell him about every shot. This was our perfect day caught on film and seeing it again brought it all back to me. I didn't want that day to ever end.

I heard myself singing along with the track as the video ended for the second time and I giggled, "Nicky!"

Darien looked over at me, "Rache, you're losing it, he's not here."

I looked at Darien and then back at the TV, "Rewind that, J."

He did and pressed play. There he was, in one of the last shots. It was a crowd shot, when we'd taken over Tsar's show for a quick set. Nick was standing off to the side, but Em must have panned over too far and she caught him. Lola, too. He was grinning over at us, his eyes almost completely concealed by the ball cap on his head. But it was him.

"Okay, there's your reshoot," Jeremy announced, pressing the pause button. He looked at me and the smile fell from my face, "Right, Rache?"

"What?"

"Come on. Em knew we didn't want him in the video, she has to take him out!" he whined and I tried to stifle a laugh.

James spoke up before I could catch my breath, "J, you're kidding, right? We're not going to ask Em to edit out of a tenth of a second of film because you can see Nick in the background shot! That's just dumb."

"Yeah, Jeremy. Talk about diva-ing!" I deadpanned, leaning back in my chair.

"Rachel has a sixth sense about Nick Carter, ya know," joked James and I smiled at him.

"Well, so does about every other teenage girl in America."

"Germany, too! I hear Backstreet's big in Germany," Darien chimed in.

"And it's not every other, J. It's like every third, I mean O-Town and N*Sync get some, too. Damn." James laughed.

Jeremy's ears were turning red as James and Darien went on, fighting about the ratio of teenage girls who like Backstreet over N*Sync and of those, how many favored my Nick over the other members. They finally decided that it was more like one in 8 or 9 before Jeremy screamed at them.

"STOP IT! Just fuckin' stop. Damn, you all are freaks!"

"And your point?" James turned around to face him, lifting his head high.

"We can't have a shot of Nick in the video because someone's going to see it and then the videos going to be about our 'special guest star, Nick Carter.'"

"Nicky!" she yelled, and I knew she was excited about something. "We have a video!"

"I know, Rache, I was there when you filmed it, remember?"

"No! I just saw it!"

Oh. That was news.

"You did? Where? Is it awesome?"

"Of course! It's Em, duh, yeah, it's perfect. Jeremy wants her to re-edit it, but he's so full of shit."

"Why? Not enough shots of him? Tell him the wanton sex goddess deserves all the screen time."

She giggled, "Damn straight. I didn't know I could look that good, Nicky! Really, that Em is a genius."

"I doubt that, Rache. You're fucking gorgeous, she just took pictures of you."

She was quiet for half a second. "I love you."

I grinned at the phone. "I love you, too. Now, why does Jeremy want to edit you out?"

"He doesn't want to edit me out. He wants to edit you out."

"Me?" I wasn't in the video. I stood behind the camera every time it was on, didn't I?

"There's one teeny tiny half second shot of you in the audience when we were performing, no one is ever gonna notice it. He's just a fuck."

I had to laugh. "Uh, Rache? If it's so tiny, how did you notice it was there?"

"Um…" she stuttered, and I laughed harder at her embarrassed tone. "James says I have a sixth sense about Nick Carter," she admitted sheepishly.

"Honey… I'm not trying to be conceited here, but there are a lot of girls out there with that sixth sense. You've seen the websites."

She laughed. "We had that discussion, actually. James and Darien figured that the law of averages put it at about one in 9 teenage girls."

"You are in a band with a bunch of freaks, you know that."

"Yeah," she grinned. "I like it that way. Still!" She went back to our conversation. "It is half a second, it is not going to ruin our credibility."

"Am I that much of a liability?" I joked.

"Yeah, Backstreet is like a black hole of credibility," she deadpanned. "You suck the indie cred out of everything you touch."

"Hey!" I whined, laughing as she kept teasing me.

"What?" We could all tell that Amber was trying hard not to laugh at Jeremy's argument. Hell, we'd long since given up trying to reason with him.

I took James' beer and finished it, throwing it into the trashcan across the room. Lola raised an eyebrow at me and I stood and took a little bow before Jeremy pushed me back down into my seat. Damn, why did I spend the afternoon on the phone with Nick and not drinking with the boys? I needed to be tipsy for this, at least. At least then it would be entertaining.

"You heard me, Amber. This video cannot be about Rachel and Nick. It's our first video and it just makes it look like we're trying to ride on his coat tails."

"Have you looked at the tour schedule, Jeremy?" Amber clipped into the phone, "We are. I seem to recall seeing you during the planning meetings for the tour. It's Backstreet that is getting you airplay and we are most definitely trying to capitalize on that."

Jeremy started to say something and Amber rose her voice an octave. Shit. I hated it when she was all businesslike and controlling. I much preferred her just innocuous and annoying.

"Don't interrupt me, Jeremy!" She was quiet for a moment and we all avoided eye contact with Jeremy. Shit. His fist landed against the table and I tried to remember to breathe. "We here at EMI value your input. And I know that you are all used to calling the shots. That's fine. I like that about you. It makes you fun to work with… but let's be clear on this, okay? Marketing decisions are ours. EMI is going to put everything we can into making your little band break. That's going to be good for you and it's going to be good for us. Backstreet is a part of that marketing campaign."

She stopped again and I dared a look at James. He just raised his eyebrows at me and shrugged. Could I start mainlining vodka now to ease the pain?

"I know you don't like that, but it's true. Now, I listened to your arguments against opening for them, Jeremy, and ultimately I think that's going to be a smart decision. But I'll put this as plainly as I can for you, we are not reshooting or re-editing this video. There is a 2 second shot of Nick in it and he's barely visible. TRL wants this video tomorrow, so it's happening."

"Tomorrow?" I questioned. Was it ready? How did these things happen, anyway?

"Tomorrow," Amber's voice softened and I could just see that snarky little grin of hers. "That's what I was calling to tell you before we got sidetracked on mundane issues." Jeremy scowled at the phone, mocking her, and I bit back a giggle. "They saw it this afternoon and Carson is going to make it his 'pick of the week'."

We were all completely silent as we looked at the phone. I had expected it to maybe get played on M2 a few times in the dead of night. Not to fucking premiere on TRL as Carson fucking Daly's pick of the fucking week! I threw my hand over my mouth before I shrieked and just looked at James, who was doing the exact same thing.

"He loves you, ya know. Back when he was a DJ blah blah blah…" Amber went on.

Yeah, he did. Every time I saw TRL, I remembered an interview at K-ROK when we were first starting out, our first tour outside of New York.

"Yeah, he loves Rachel," Darien teased, smiling at me, and I raised my eyebrows at him. I couldn't look at Jeremy, we'd had a huge fight that day about how I was flirting with the DJ… then our single got some airplay and Jeremy decided that was maybe a good career move for us.

"He mentioned that," Amber giggled. "How much does he like you, Rachel?" she asked, that fucking annoying 'let's be pals' tone in her voice.

"He thinks I'm hot," I deadpanned.

"Wanton sex goddess, that's our Rachel," James said, grinning.

"Well, they want you on the show, if the single gets some requests."

"But we're out here for the next month," Jeremy said, glancing down at the schedule book on the table. It was Lola's big book, and she picked it up, snatching it away from him. None of us were allowed to touch it. We might hurt it, she said.

Amber went on before Lola could find us a day off. "It'll be in a couple of weeks. We've got a street team in place, but even they can't force something to hit on TRL," Amber went on, and Darien interrupted her.

"Street team?" he wondered.

"You should look at your website, guys," Amber laughed. "A street team is when we set it up so that kids can get prizes for calling TRL or radio stations. They have to log in their calls and then they get stuff."

"They do?" James asked. "What do they get? How do I join? Are we allowed to call TRL 100 times a day on EMI's dime?"

"They get CDs and show tickets and t-shirts. Crap like that. We've already got about 100 names on the email list."

I calculated quickly in my head. Yeah, that was all our friends. That was about how many flyers I used to send out when we played shows in New York. "Oh, I want to play!" I said. "What do they do, can we start talking about it at shows?"

"Sure," Amber said. "Why don't you put a sign up sheet at the T-shirt stand?"

"We will," Jeremy agreed. "What else can we do? Can we sign stuff to give them?"

"Sure," Amber answered, sounding almost startled. She couldn't get a word in edgewise as we spent the next 15 minutes brainstorming cool things we could do for our street team members. By the end of the conversation, we were giving away VIP passes for 2 team members at each show and we'd start a "tour diary" section of the site so we could answer their questions and keep them "in the know."

"Okay, that was cool." James smiled over at Lola as she disconnected the phone and closed her notebook.

"You guys are great, you know. Most bands - even those just starting out - don't want to do this promo stuff."

"It's part of the business," Darien sighed, playing with his pen, twirling it through his fingers like he did with his drumsticks. "It's actually kind of fun. When do we get to call her?"

Jeremy held up the piece of paper where he'd scribbled the name and number of what Amber said was our best street team member in the area. She'd posted flyers all around San Diego for us and organized a group of girls at her school to request our single on the station sponsoring the concert. "Now? Who wants to talk?"

"I will!" I called out, leaning over Jeremy to get to the phone. "I'll get her on the phone and then we can put it on speaker, OK?"

They all agreed and Jeremy dialed the number. It rang about 5 times and then I got an answering machine recording. I put it on the speaker, "She's not home. We'll leave her a message?"

They all nodded and we left her a long, rambling, very Sudden Silence message. Thanking her for requesting our song. We then told her she and two friends would have their name on the guest list at tonight's show and we couldn't wait to meet her. This was so cool!

"Rache, whatcha doing?" I could hear the whir of her laptop over the phone when she was quiet. I glanced over at the clock. 1:30am. When we'd gotten on the phone an hour ago, she'd been talking non-stop about the video and the cool stuff they got to do with their fans and street team. She was so adorable, I didn't have the heart to interrupt her. We ended up online together so she could show me their new and improved website. What was she looking up now?

"Nothin'…" her voice trailed off. She was completely distracted, though. I could tell. Whenever she went completely quiet and just mumbled in response to my questions, I knew she was preoccupied with something.

"Rache, you are eminently distractible, you know that?"

"Eminently? Why, Mr. Carter, who taught you that word?" she laughed and I leaned back against the pillows on my bed. I loved having her voice in my ear. I'd love it more if I could reach over and touch her, but I'd have to settle for listening to her breathing on the other end of a phone line. Damn, what did people do before cell phones?

"Shut up. I'm not stupid. Don't believe all my press, OK?"

"Okay. I'll try to… Damn, baby, who told you that Hawaiian shirts were cool?"

"What are you doing?" I tried to sound stern, but I was actually trying hard not to laugh. She was surfing our fan sites again. I knew she was doing something besides talking to me.

"Umm…"

"You're surfing our sites again, aren't you?"

"They have pictures of everything you've ever done! It will take me years to catch up! Oh, baby doll, when you wear the god awful diamond BSB necklace, you really should at least try to dress up."

"Very funny." I groaned, again trying not to laugh. Secretly I loved that she was spending her evenings surfing our websites. At least she wasn't downstairs with the boys in her band picking up cute groupies.

"I'm serious, Nick. The tank top, shorts and million dollar necklace just screams you're trying too hard!"

"No, it doesn't." I reasoned, "It shows that I'm so cool that I don't have to care what other people think of me."

"You keep telling yourself that, bunny. Now you really have to quit believing your own press. Speaking of which!"

I laughed at her again, glancing over to the picture of her that Em had just emailed to me. It was currently the screen saver on my laptop. I was not obsessively surfing the Internet looking for embarrassing pictures of her. OK, there weren't really any. But give them another couple weeks and the web would be overrun with them. Hell, I might be able to make a fortune with this one. An Em Evesham outtake of America's newest sex symbol? That had to be worth something.

"We've got an interview with Rolling Stone! Her voice rose an octave and I smiled.

"I know, Rache. You're too adorable."

She wasn't even listening to me, though, she continued to rattle on about Rolling Stone and how nervous she was about the interview. They'd be sending one of their reporters to meet them in LA and he'd be with them for something like a two days. Did she realize she'd told me this about 10 times? She'd called me when Rolling Stone had confirmed. Her excitement had turned to fear now, though, and she was starting to obsess about it.

She was wondering what to wear when she screamed, "Nick, how many pictures can one woman have of you entering a hotel? The same fucking hotel!"

"I don't know, Rache. Can you stop downloading pictures of me, please?" I whined and she laughed at me.

"OK… ooohhh… when did Howie get so hot?"

"Forget that, continue to look for pictures of me!"

She giggled in my ear and I could hear her mouse clicking again. She was online, right? I logged back on and pulled up my email program.

To: Wanton Sex Goddess (aka Rachel)
From: Nick
RE: Phone sex

Baby, stop downloading pictures and go light your candles…

"Honey…" her voice trailed off and I held my breath. Did she get my email yet? It'd only been three days since I had to leave her and come back to stupid LA. Just thinking of how we spent our last hours together made me hard. Phone sex would be good now. Hearing her moving on her bed and moaning my name as she came. Damn, the imagination was a powerful thing.

"What, Rache?"

"Why do you let them take your picture at every club you go to?"

"Where are you now, Rache?" I teased, pulling up my web browser as she rattled off an address to me. The page loaded slowly.

"Hey! This when you were in Tampa with Aaron, isn't it? Oh, she's adorable Nick. Do women always get to pose on your lap? Are you like Santa Claus?" Her voice was teasing, right? Who the hell had pictures of me out in Tampa? I didn't do anything…

Fuck.

The pictures started to load and I couldn't breathe. No, Anna said Rachel wasn't allowed to be mad at me. Besides, we'd talked about this. Well, not talked, exactly, it was that day in the street when she told me Jeremy kissed her.

Besides, this was before we said we loved each other. Before we'd had any talks about where we were going or whether we'd date other people. Well, we hadn't really had those talks yet, had we? I kept trying to and she kept telling me that she didn't want me to make those promises.

"Rache, don't be mad. That's the girl I told you about. We already had this fight," I reminded her.

"Oh, here's another one! Damn, baby, how much does it cost to have a private party?"

"I don't know, Rache. Couple hundred for the VIP room probably."

"Hundred? Do you at least get sex with that? A hand job… something?"

She was a freak, my girlfriend. That had to be a James-ism, it sounded like one of their inside jokes.

"Oooh… looks like you get a girl's tongue down your throat!" she deadpanned. The line was quiet and my image finally loaded. Fuck. Why did I let people take my pictures at clubs? I had to stop that.

"Rache?"

"What?" her voice was curt and I could hear her clicking again.

"Are you mad?"

She didn't answer. I could hear her lighter and then she inhaled on her cigarette. She was mad. She only smoked when she was nervous or upset. Shit. I didn't want to have this conversation again.

Was I mad? I didn't have a right to be, did I? I mean, it's not like I was an angel. I flirted with guys during our shows. How was that different than what Nick did? Is this how he felt when he saw Jeremy and I together that day at the hotel? My stomach churned at the memory of us standing in the middle of the street screaming at each other. He'd been so hurt and angry… but then we'd talked about Jeremy and it had been OK. Right?

"Rache?" his voice squeaked and I smiled, checking my email quickly.

Phone sex? Could I distract him with phone sex? Probably.

"I'm here. Phone sex, baby? Are you sure you don't want to call up blondie and see if she's available? Did you get her number? No, you gave her yours, didn't you?"

Damn, where'd the attitude come from?

He was mine. I was missing him so hard those days we were apart and he was out clubbing in the VIP lounge letting some girl sit on his lap and stick her tongue down his throat… confirming all my fears. But when I called him, he'd come to surprise me, hadn't he? And then he'd used the "L" word. He used it a lot, actually.

I couldn't hear him on the other end. Was he holding his breath, waiting for me to yell at him? I looked away from the screen, taking a long drag on my cigarette and staring at a spot on the wall in front of me. I was jealous. I hated being jealous. I wanted to trust him… but why should I? We were apart for a couple days and he was groping some bottle blonde in a club.

Maybe he had some girl in LA now. That's what all the fans thought. I heard a couple of them in the bar tonight. They didn't know that James and I were in the next booth, winding down after the show. They were laughing, speculating about whether Nick was capable of being faithful and sharing stories about him and girls while he was on tour. After a few minutes, James made me move and reminded me how sweet my Nick was. He wasn't the boy that the fans thought they knew. Right?

No, he was mine now. I wanted him all to myself. After Damon and Jeremy… didn't I deserve a guy that loved just me? Wanted just me and not 10 other women or one other woman who'd give him a baby? How can I be this young and this fucked up already?

"Rache, nothing happened… I told you." His voice was low and I heard him sigh on the other end. I could just see him, biting his bottom lip as he waited for me to say something, that scared look in his eye. Just like that night on the beach when he told me he liked me too much to just be friends. It was like time stopped for a moment and he stared at me, holding his breath, waiting for me to decide our fate.

Would our fate be petty jealousy over every picture and Internet rumor? Was this going to be our life together for however long his infatuation lasted?

"Looks like more than nothing to me, baby." I teased, stubbing out my cigarette and turning off the laptop.

She called me "baby." She can't be too mad, right?

"I was just… Tony hooked up with her friend and I thought I'd flirt a little. You know, take my mind off how much I missed you and just have a little fun. It was supposed to be innocent."

"But it all went wrong, did it?"

I could hear her voice softening and I let myself breathe a little. It was okay, right? It was going to be fine.

"Yeah. No… I don't know, Rache." I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to remember what happened that night. It was like there was this long blur between talking to Rachel in the men's room and Anna yelling at me when the blond was on my lap. "Tony was handing me shots and the next thing I knew she was on my lap and her tongue was down my throat. Then Anna came over for her phone and threatened to call and tell you…"

"She what?"

"Anna was pissed at me. I spent all night pining for you. You were the subject of every other sentence that night, Rache. I called you like 10 times, remember?"

I smiled at the memory of hearing her voice when I finally got her on the phone. She said they'd had a crap show, but she was still high from it. Even a bad show for her was amazing. And this tour was huge for them. I shifted on the bed, trying to get comfortable as I remembered watching her on stage.

"When we finally talked, you told me that you'd had a bad show, but I didn't believe you. You're amazing on stage, you know that, right? By the third song, your hair is soaking wet, falling in your eyes as you look down at your guitar. Damn. I love it when you toss your head back to flip it off your face and shoot me that sexy glance. Licking your lips slowly… do you do that just to torture me, baby?" Those lips. I could practically feel them on my skin.

"I remember. Our first show. God, I wanted to fuck you so bad when I came off stage, but you weren't there."

"You get so horny on stage, Rache. I can't wait until I get to be there again. I'm going to fuck you senseless behind a gig box next." She moaned in response, making me smile.

"Damn, I'm holding you to that one. So did you like the bottle blond, Nick?"

"I don't know, Rache." I whined. I didn't want to talk about her. I didn't even know her name.

"I think you did. She had huge breasts. Did you touch them, baby?"

I heard something on her end. Was she sitting on the bed? Did she give up downloading pictures for the night?

"Rache…"

"Come on, Nick. You can tell me. Were they real?"

"I don't know." I heard her lighter again. Was she chain smoking? "What are you doing, Rache?"

"Just lighting my candle." She inhaled deeply and then sighed. "Remember the bath we took the night before we left the Point?"

"Rachel, I will be a hundred years old and remember that bath. You were so amazing."

"Me? I remember you doing some pretty amazing things. Including almost making me drown."

"You're the one who wouldn't keep you hands on the side of the tub. I'd warned you not to let go."

She groaned and I heard the mattress squeak underneath her. Are we done talking about nameless girl now? I laid back on the bed and closed my eyes, waiting for her to respond. But she was quiet.

"Nick…?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"I don't want to be a jealous freak."

Her voice was barely a whisper. I wished she was in front of me so I could pull her close and show her how much I loved her. Why was she jealous? I hadn't looked at another girl since I met her. Not seriously.

"You're not. I was a shit, Rache." Besides, I was the jealous one. Every time she mentioned Jeremy, I felt my blood boil. I hated that he was part of her life. I hated that she still shared secrets with him and he got to see her every fucking day. It was unfair. But she didn't need to know that. How many times could I ask her to reassure me that there were no feelings left there?

"If we hadn't had that fight at the hotel, Nick, would you have told me about her? Did you think I'd freak out on you?"

"Honestly, Rache?"

"Of course. Don't tell me what you think I want to hear, bunny."

Why not? I told everyone what they wanted to hear, why should Rachel be any different? Because she wasn't everyone else, was she?

"I was so excited to see you, Rache. I didn't think about it again. Anna yelled at me and I freaked out. I was the one who freaked, Rache. And she convinced me that you wouldn't dump me because I kissed one girl. So I put it out of my mind. And then we were together and… all I wanted to do was be with you and be happy again."

I took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, Rache. Truly."

I could hear her breathing on the other end as I bit my lip, waiting for her to say something. Was that good enough? It was the truth. It had to be good enough, right?

"It's OK, bunny. Just… tell me next time."

"Rache, there so isn't gonna be a next time." She laughed and I finally felt like I could breathe again. "Does that mean we can stop talking about the bottle blond?"

"Sure. What do you wanna talk about, baby?"

"Whatcha' wearing, baby doll?" I flirted and closed my eyes again as her voice filled my head

Chapter 9:
Page 1 | Page 2 | Page 3 | Page 4

Disclaimer | Sudden Silence Website
Feedback to Authors | Tragical Fiction (home)

(c) 2001-2007
Some content not suitable for children. You have been warned.