THE SCOTTISH FETISH: Chapter 6

Be home in 10. Hope dinner’s ready. Am famished! – The text from her husband read. She slipped out of the asleep rock star’s cuddlesome embrace. He stirred, but didn’t wake up. She scurried about for her clothes, putting them on hurriedly and almost tripping on her stilettos as  she hurried back to her apartment, hoping not to be noticed by her bodyguards who tended to grow suspicious whenever she returned home late.
                           ********
He woke up, rolling over to the empty space beside him, frowning as he noticed her absence. “Morning! ” a blaring, female voice greeted, taking him by surprise. The drowsy rock star turned around, tangling in the sheets as he did, caught unaware as fangirl Ina clicked a pic on her  phone! “That’s a keeper! ” he rolled his eyes on hearing her mutter, watching as a grin spread across the bright-eyed girl’s face as she stared at the phone screen  “Aww…geez! Who let er in?! ” he grumbled, staring accusingly at Mick who stood behind her at the doorway. “Sorry. She barged in.” he apologized. “My mind might be fuzzy from all the drugs I take….but, remind me….isn’t that why yer ere? To keep maniacs like er from barging in?! ” he asked Mick, sarcastically. The offended manager left the room, mumbling cusses under his breath. “Oi! Don’t be hard on poor Mickey! ” she scolded. “Why’re ya ere, anyway?” he asked, grumpily. “Ya asked me to come back tomorrow or somethin, remember? ” she reminded, attempting to mimic the devil-may-care tone in his voice. “So…shall we begin the interview? ” she asked purringly, pulling out her notepad as she settled onto the bed, quite close to him. “Ya do realize…I’m not fully clothed right now…Right? ” the uncomfortable rock star asked, covering himself up with the sheets. “Yup! I’ve got a pretty good pic o’ ya to remind me! ” she replied cheekily, waving the phone in front of his face. “Gimme that! ” he cried out angrily, snatching away the phone, before tossing it aside. The flimsy, cheap-looking phone broke into two halves as it hit the wall. “Oops! ” he muttered, mockingly. Mick, who’d just brought his coffee (which was really a mixture of instant coffee and bourbon, his usual morning drink) tsk-tsked at the doorway on seeing the remains of the phone. “I never caught yer name.” the Scottish Fetish asked. “Ina Parker.” she replied with a wide grin, surprisingly not bothered by the loss of the phone. “Right…Ina. Do me a favor, wontcha, Ina? Get out! ” he ordered, growlingly. “Not really a morning person, is he? ” the unfazed girl whispered to Mick who led her out.

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