Chapter 1: First Impressions
The summer of 1990 was a scorcher, and not just because of the blazing sun over the Atlanta amphitheater. Tara Lewis, the newest stylist for New Kids on the Block, felt the heat of a thousand screaming fans as she adjusted Donnie Wahlberg’s leather jacket backstage. At 22, Tara was a vision—tall, with smooth, deep brown skin that glowed under the stage lights, and a sharp tongue that could cut through any ego. Her tight curls bounced as she moved with purpose, her curves unapologetically commanding attention in her fitted jeans and cropped top.
'Yo, Tara, you sure you ain’t gonna make me look like a clown out there?' Donnie teased, flashing his signature smirk as she tugged at his collar.
'Boy, please. I could make you look like a king or a fool, and you’d still thank me for it,' Tara shot back, her full lips curling into a sly grin. 'Now stand still before I pin this jacket to your damn chest.'
The rest of the band laughed, but Jonathan Knight, the quiet one, lingered near the edge of the chaos. His hazel eyes flicked toward Tara, taking in her confident swagger. He was the shy brother, the one who hid behind his bangs and soft smiles, but there was something about Tara that made his pulse quicken. She caught his gaze and arched a brow, her stare piercing right through him.
'What’s your deal, Knight? You gonna stand there gawking all day or come get your fit checked?' Tara called out, her voice dripping with playful challenge.
Jonathan’s cheeks flushed, but he stepped forward, rubbing the back of his neck. 'I, uh, just didn’t wanna interrupt. You’re… kinda intense.'
'Intense?' Tara laughed, a rich, throaty sound that sent a shiver down his spine. She stepped closer, her fingers brushing his shoulder as she adjusted his oversized shirt. 'Baby, you ain’t seen intense yet. Stick around.'
The air between them crackled, charged with an unspoken tension. Tara’s touch lingered just a second too long, her dark eyes locking with his. She could feel the heat radiating off him, the way his breath hitched slightly. Damn, this shy boy was hiding something, and she was determined to find out what.
'Yo, Tara, we’re on in five!' Jordan’s voice broke the moment, but not before Tara leaned in, her lips brushing close to Jonathan’s ear.
'Don’t think I didn’t notice you staring, Jon. After the show, we’re gonna talk about what’s got you so… distracted,' she whispered, her voice low and teasing, leaving a promise hanging in the humid air.
As the band rushed to the stage, Tara watched Jonathan disappear into the roar of the crowd, her mind already racing. She wasn’t just here to style clothes—she was here to unravel him. And later that night, in the quiet of the backstage lounge, with the echoes of the concert still buzzing in their veins, she’d make good on that promise. Their banter would turn to heat, her hands finding his hard frame, his shy demeanor melting under her touch as she’d guide him to a couch, her pussy already wet with anticipation, ready to show him just how intense she could be.
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