Carrie Duffy - Idol

Despite her protestations to the contrary, Jenna did care what Zac thought. She couldn’t help it. In spite of his arrogance and his dismissive attitude towards her, she wanted his approval. More than that, she was determined that this collaboration with Phoenix would blow everyone away, and she knew that for that to happen she needed to start working hard and get the band on side.

Ryan was a lovely, sweet guy – quiet, but from a natural shyness, not hostility. Nick was eating out of her hand, she thought with a grin. Now he was a lot of fun. There had been a lot of flirting, a lot of teasing and giggling, but nothing more. Yet. Don was a sweetie, and the best in the business – he worked them mercilessly, but got fantastic results, and Jenna had the utmost respect for him. But Zac … Jenna couldn’t work him out. He was behaving like a total bastard towards her, but that wasn’t what she’d heard about him from everyone else. They all seemed to think he was a great guy. Yeah, so he could be a little absorbed in his work at times, but that was something you accepted when you were working with a genius. So what was his problem with her?

Jenna was mulling the situation over as she lay alone in her super-king-size bed, unable to sleep. Zac’s criticism had hit her harder than she had expected. All of his comments seemed to centre on her work and her attitude. She knew that he could only respect anyone who took their work as seriously as he did, and when she turned up day after day in her little outfits, looking to flirt with Nick and have a laugh with the production staff …

Jenna cringed as she thought of it. Okay, so maybe she could be a little childish at times.

Right, Jenna resolved firmly, tomorrow sees the start of the new, mature me.

And the first thing to change would be her clothes, she decided, jumping out of bed and heading over to her walk-in wardrobe with a growing sense of excitement at the thought of a reinvention. Other artists did it all the time, thought Jenna, picturing herself at high-brow events wearing Audrey Hepburn-style shift dresses, or fitted shirts and tailored trousers. Elegant – but still sexy, of course. Or maybe she could go for grown-up rock chick – thick black opaques and biker boots, teamed with a low-cut vest and fierce blazer.

As Jenna pulled aside the rows of skimpy, bare-all tops, the micro-miniskirts and the tiny hot pants, she felt she could perhaps see the problem. Resolving to throw away all items of clothing she owned in baby pink, Jenna rummaged through rail upon rail of designer labels and located a pair of white, flared Ralph Lauren trousers, a demure, high-necked shift dress from last season’s Victoria Beckham collection, and the bold floral print skirt she’d finally decided on. Just because I want to be refined doesn’t mean I have to look like a Tory wife, she concluded, finding a pair of ultra-feminine Chanel ballet pumps, which lacked the spiked heel and fetishistic appeal of most of her other footwear.

Just you wait Zac Knight, thought Jenna fiercely, climbing back between the luxurious Egyptian cotton sheets and flicking off the light.

Sadie emerged from the grimy Tube, breathing in the fresh air of Green Park. She looked sensational in a deep red wrap dress that fitted perfectly, emphasizing the slim contours of her body, and she’d teamed it with a sleek pair of knee-high boots. Men were checking her out as she walked along, a spring in her step and a swing to her hips.

As she reached the May Fair Hotel a few minutes later, the uniformed porter in his long coat and top hat opened the door, smiling at her as she stepped through. Sadie made a left and headed towards the bar. Her stomach was churning with excitement and nerves, but she knew she looked good.

Paul Austin was already there, seated at the counter. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw him. He looked unbelievably handsome, just as she’d remembered him, and in the stylish bar he seemed completely at home, radiating power and confidence. His suit was expensive and well fitted, his face serious as he swirled his whisky on the rocks. Then he glanced up, his face creasing into a smile as he saw her. He stood up to meet her and his eyes slowly ran over every inch of her body, watching the way her hips rolled, the way her small breasts rose and fell as she walked towards him. Sadie felt a thrill of anticipation run down her spine.

Paul leaned over to kiss her cheek. ‘You smell delicious,’ he murmured, lingering for just a second too long.

Sadie felt her stomach contract, a rush of heat low in her belly. The air was thick with tension.

‘I’ve ordered for you,’ Paul told her, indicating the glass of white wine on the counter beside him.

‘You remembered,’ Sadie said delightedly. She’d been drinking wine in the restaurant where she’d first seen him.

‘I remember everything. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since that afternoon.’

His eyes were trained on her unwaveringly. Sadie felt as though he was mentally undressing her, picturing her in the tiniest scrap of Victoria’s Secret. She took a sip of wine to calm her nerves, but her hands were shaking. A drop spilled over the edge and trickled down the outside of the glass, leaving a trail through the condensation. Instinctively Sadie caught it with her finger, then placed the tip in her mouth and sucked gently.

She heard Paul’s breath catch in his throat and she looked up, her eyes betraying a mix of fear, confusion and pure, undisguised lust.

‘Sadie.’ Just one word. The way he said her name, she felt herself melt. Instantly she knew why she was there. She wanted him badly, and there was no way of hiding it.

‘Let’s go.’ Paul’s voice was low and husky as he threw a note on the counter, grabbed Sadie by the hand and pulled her towards the exit.

‘You know … I don’t usually do this kind of thing …’ Sadie gasped, her breath coming fast as she felt heat flood her body.

‘Well I’m glad to be the exception,’ Paul smirked, pushing his tongue deep into her mouth as his hands roamed frenziedly beneath her clothes.

Sadie moaned in pleasure and staggered backwards, feeling as though her legs wouldn’t hold her up. Her back hit the wall and Paul fell against her, his firm body crushed against hers. She could feel his swollen cock through his trousers and she fumbled with his belt buckle, eager to free him.

‘I should let you know … that I don’t usually do this kind of thing …’ Paul mimicked her words, his mouth hot against her ear so that the skin on the nape of her neck prickled deliciously.

Her hand slid inside his pants and she felt him, hard and thick as she grasped his shaft. Paul closed his eyes and groaned in delight as her fingers slipped down to his balls, stroking and squeezing with just the right amount of pressure.

‘Then I’m glad to be the exception,’ Sadie managed to stammer, biting down on her lip to stop herself from crying out as he roughly pushed up her top and greedily bent his head to her breasts. Her nipples were tight and his tongue flickered expertly over them, circling and sucking.

They were acting on instinct now, slaves to what their bodies were telling them. Sliding a hand down to her pussy, Paul couldn’t believe how wet she was. The thought of her creaming herself for him turned him on even more and he knew he couldn’t wait any longer.

Pulling a condom from his wallet he slipped it on and picked her up, his muscular arms flexing as Sadie wrapped her legs around his waist and he lowered her onto his throbbing cock.

Her back pressed into the wall as she clung to him, her nails digging into his shoulders as he began to move inside her, groaning with every thrust. She could feel him deep inside, his groin rubbing relentlessly against her clit as the pressure began to build.