Big Bad Handsome Man

She was the typical for him: a fan girl with her big blonde hair, annoying giggle, big chest, and unable to hold her alcohol. She said her name was Shannon, but he kept calling her Sherry.

She didn’t seem to mind, but maybe that was because she could hardly walk straight. Or maybe it was the fact that she was about to have a whole lot of fun in a hotel room with the one and only Adam Gontier.

He was half wasted himself and hardly able to support her, but they somehow stumbled into the room. She attacked him, tugging at his clothes, and he let her. They used each other, and after a wonderful climax for them both, they passed out on the large bed.

When he woke, she was still asleep, softly snoring. He looked at her, and rubbed his eyes, willing his pounding head ache to go away. After a moment, he stumbled to the bathroom, and took a brief shower. It was hot, and he hoped it would burn the sin off of him. He doubted that it did, but it helped wash away the smell of alcohol, sweat, sex, and some exotic perfume she had been wearing.

Adam dried off quickly and wrapped the towel around himself, as though it mattered whether she saw him naked now. He shook his head and looked in the mirror. His eyes were blood shot and his hair mussed. Questions and accusations ran through his head, but his head ache told them off. He had no time for personal demons.

Walking with more sure feet, he skulked into the room, pulling on his clothes, and digging out some money. He put it on the nightstand for her, and looked at her once more. There was no emotion in him for her—not even guilt. Once he stepped out the door, Sherry was out of his mind for good.