By @JA Huss
Publication Date: September 10, 2014
Novella (115ish pages)
Adult Contemporary Romance
Vaughn Asher. I’ve stalked him relentlessly. I shaped and formed my lust into the perfect dirty hashtag…day after day… weekend after weekend. He was my prince. My fairy tale. My fantasy.
I gave him the best years of my online life and what did he do for me?
Ruined my social media experience one tweet at a time. That’s what.
And now #TheDickWhoIsVaughnAsher thinks he can weasel his way back into this filthy blue bird’s Twitter account? He’s wrong.
His public fantasy is about to collide… ah, fuck it. He’s hot as hell, bitches. I need more than a free sample. This time I want it all. And I’ll do whatever it takes to get it.
My tablet dings with an incoming third-party Twitter notification.
@FilthyBlueBird has unfollowed you.
I laugh. “Oh, Grace, Grace, Grace. You think you can slip me that easily?”
Grace @FilthyBlueBird – 1s
OMG, I have a stalker! What do I do, #BlueBirds?
You’d think a woman using Twitter this regularly for a few years would understand how it all works. I can still see her tweets when she unfollows me. I have to stop and laugh a little.
MovieStar @VaughnAsher – 30s
@FilthyBlueBird Who is this stalker? I will set him straight.
And then the usual happens. Within minutes, there are dozens of @replies. Mostly from her girlfriends on the Dirty Heaven list, the #BlueBirds. But some random stalkerish fans of my own are in there too.
@VaughnAsher is @FilthyBlueBird your GF?
@VaughnAsher if you’re the stalker, you can stalk me any time!
@VaughnAsher who is @FilthyBlueBird? Can I be your blue bird?
They get worse from there. Invitations to fuck them. Sit on my face. #SOHF is a code word for that on Twitter. @FilthyBlueBird uses that one a lot. And I’ve got to admit, that’s something I’d like to imagine. More than imagine, actually. I’d like to lick that sweet little pussy until she’s dripping down my chin.
Fuck. I’m horny. I reach for my phone and press Grace’s number in my contacts. She picks up on the first ring.
“What the hell are you doing?” she growls at me.
“You left so suddenly, Grace. I didn’t have a chance to—”
“Get off my Twitter feed, Asher. Now!”
I chuckle. It’s one of those full-of-myself chuckles I do when my power is looming over people. “Now whyever would I do that, Miss Kinsella?”
“Because, Vaughn, I’m just a girl from Denver who has absolutely no interest in signing your contract. It was a fun fling, but it’s over now. So leave me alone and stop stalking me on Twitter! My friends are all going to see—” She’s interrupted by a continuous litany of pinging from my tablet and I admit, at this point in the conversation, I’ve got a hand over my mouth to stop the laughing. She screams on the other end of the line.
I can see why. She just got bombarded with tweets asking about me.
“Oh my God. What do I tell them? What the hell am I going to tell them?” She screams again. “Fuck! Bebe just found out, thanks a lot! I never told her about you, now she’s going to know I was with you on the island.”
“So? Jesus, have you no sympathy for me at all? She’s my best friend and I lied to her! I fucked a goddamned movie star and I didn’t tell her! How can you—”
“—be so fucking cold, you jerk!”
“Oh. My. God. Do you hear that? That’s her now! She’s calling on the other line!”
“Answer it, I’ll wait.”
“Answer it? No! I’m—”
“I’ll tell them all it was a lie if…”
“If what?” she growls at me through the phone.
“If you have phone sex with me, right now.”