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It's All About Me	By : justapassenger Category: Reality TV > American Idol/Pop Idol Views: 2408 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the people I am writing about in this fanfiction. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-It's All About Me
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AN: This is my first Saula fic … I usually write for CSI. I don’t know if I’ll be writing a sequel to this … in a way, I like the way it ends … a little vindication, perhaps. But chances are, I will write another chapter. If people seem to want one.

*

He always found the perfect time to do it. The perfect moment when the cameras were pointed somewhere else and no one seemed to be looking. That was when he made his move.

He always mixed it up a little. Sometimes, his fingers would trip lightly up the outside of her thigh, tickling her with feather-soft touches. Sometimes, he would sneak a hand behind her neck and play with her hair, pulling it and tangling it between his fingers. Other times, he would simply drape his hand over the back of her chair, a move that seemed so innocent and casual; but in reality, he would be minutely twisting and pushing the chair around, driving her completely insane as she attempted to sit still and listen to the performances.

But it was the poking and the grabbing that really stirred the ideal reaction from her. When he grasped her knee under the table and squeezed it, she would jump and yelp, turning furiously to swat him. Or, even better, he would poke her mercilessly in the side just as she was attempting to speak, sometimes earning him a giggle, sometimes earning him a bruise.

It was a sport for Simon, and he enjoyed it immensely. Pissing her off was one of his talents, and he would show off whenever he could. And tonight was no exception. As Ryan announced Paula’s name, he reached over stealthily and grabbed her thigh, digging his fingers into her ticklish flesh just as the cameras panned in her direction. A high-pitched squeal resounded, but instead of releasing her, he began to trail his fingers around her sensitive skin, making her giggle through her anger as she swatted at him.

Simon merely smiled as Ryan scolded him, and he could actually feel Paula’s glare, causing his trademark smirk to widen.

“You’re a jerk,” she whispered harshly in his ear, and he simply turned to grin at her. She rolled her eyes and tried not to smile, but he reached over and poked her in the side, and her smile surfaced as she yelped again.

*

The night wore on, and Simon managed to push her buttons every chance he had. He grabbed her knee, poked her side, toyed with her chair, and made rude comments to the performers. She grew more and more agitated, spitting insults back in his direction, which only egged him on.

Eventually, the last contestant took the stage, singing a ballad that didn’t suit her voice at all, and Simon huffed loudly. How boring. He tickled Paula’s side again, and she tried desperately to glower at him as she squirmed and giggled. Teasing Paula was always so much more fun than listening to these performances, anyway.

And, of course, that was the only reason he did it, he justified to himself as he reached over to tickle the back of her neck. It was amusing to get her angry. Pure amusement. It had nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that he loved hearing her laugh, and loved it even more when she got so angry with him that she flew off the deep end, pummeling him with her tiny fists.

“Knock it off, Simon!” Paula hissed at him, trying to shrug his hand off her shoulders.

He chuckled and withdrew long enough to listen to the very end of the song. He barely paid attention to Randy, but his head snapped up at the sound of Paula’s voice. He wasn’t sure why. He always said how much he hated it when she talked. Nevertheless, he listened to her, snorting derisively as she complimented the song choice. Paula turned and hit him again, and his smile widened. God, he loved to wind her up.

“You’re just mean, Simon. Just plain mean!” she stated, hitting him again for good measure.

“I don’t agree with the other judges,” he said to the girl on stage. “I thought the song was boring and frankly, it didn’t suit you. You would be better off singing on a cruise ship somewhere-” He was met with boos from the crowd, and yet another furious glare from Paula. “-and of course, it would be a liability for the cruise line, because they would have people clambering over each other to jump ship,” he finished.

If the crowd had been booing before, it was nothing compared to the noise they were making now. But that wasn’t his goal. His goal had been to get Paula mad.

And she was. The rage sparkled in her dark eyes, and he suddenly wondered why his pants had grown so tight.

She shoved him with all her strength, pushing his chair as far away from her as possible. The crowd laughed, and Ryan launched into his closing spiel. Simon turned to grin at Paula, who shot him a purely evil glare as she stood and stormed off stage.

*

Smirking to himself, Simon made his way back to his dressing room. Another job well done. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it, taking a long slow drag as he sat himself on his couch, propping his feet up.

Suddenly, the door burst open. He looked up and found himself face to face with Paula Abdul and her seething rage.

“Simon, you are such a jackass!” she shouted, slamming the door behind her.

“What did I do, luv?” he asked, feigning innocence.

She sighed, exasperated. “You are so frustrating!”

God, she looked gorgeous, he found himself thinking as she paced in front of him. Her cheeks flushed, her eyes flashing … his pants were again growing tighter, and he shifted uncomfortably.

He tried to act innocent once more, wanting to get her even angrier. “I’m afraid I don’t understand what’s gotten you so incredibly angry, darling.”

She spun on her heal and shot him a positively withering look. “You poke me. You grab at me. You pull my hair. You’re a complete jerk to the contestants. What is your problem? Do you just … get off on other people’s misery?”

Actually, he seemed to be, he thought, shifting again as his pants became more and more of a hindrance. “I just thought that the performances were absolutely dull,” he said, shrugging.

“You’re just plain mean,” she spat.

“No, darling, I’m afraid you’re just too sensitive.”

“It’s all about you, isn’t it?” she shot back.

“Of course, luv,” he replied, raising an eyebrow. “It’s a very good way to live. You get whatever you want. You should take a page out of my book and try it out. It’s all about me. Live with it.”

That hit a nerve. She launched herself at him, slapping his chest. “You’re a bully!” she growled, hitting him harder and harder until her frenzy died down and she suddenly realized that there was something very hard digging into her thigh.

Her eyes snapped to his, an eyebrow raising slowly. “Uh, Simon, what’s that?”

“What’s what?” he asked, trying to shift away from her.

“That,” she said, reaching down to cup his arousal.

“Dear God,” he moaned, his eyes sliding shut. He waited for the inevitable tirade, or for her to simply stand up and storm out.

But instead, he heard her breathing quicken, and her hand stroked him once through his pants. His eyes shot open just in time to see her bending forward, her lips meeting his in a furious kiss.

His mouth opened automatically as her tongue swiped along his bottom lip. Her mouth invaded his, her hands grabbing roughly at the back of his head, tangling in his thick hair. He moaned into the kiss, grasping her hips, pulling her tighter against him.

She backed away suddenly, breathing heavily. “You’re a jerk,” she whispered again. His eyes darkened as she ground herself against him, her head tilting back as a groan forced itself from her throat. “God, Simon …” she whimpered.

His hips bucked up against her, and she gazed down at him through her lashes, licking her lips as she pushed her skirt up and pressed her fingers against herself through her panties. He simply stared at her, unbelieving. This couldn’t be real. There was no way. This was another one of his fantasies.

But when her fingers began to repeatedly brush against his hardened shaft as she pressed deeper against her own arousal, it became shockingly clear that this was reality. “Pawler,” he moaned, his pelvis rocking upwards as she brushed against him again.

Her fingers attacked his belt, removing it with ease, and then tackled his button and fly, fumbling to get the zipper down, aching to touch him. He grunted as her small hand wrapped around his thick shaft and freed him from his pants, pushing her panties aside desperately. There was a look on her face that could only be described as pure desire, her eyes lidded and darkened with need, her mouth open, lips swollen from their ardent kisses.

She cried out as she slid the head of his arousal against her folds, using him to circle her clit. He almost came just watching her use him as her own personal toy, and he had to close his eyes and lean his head back, breathing deeply in order to stay with her.

“Please, Pawler,” he begged.

That was all she needed to hear. She guided him swiftly to her core, plunging down on him, taking him in fully, not even pausing to adjust to his size. Her hands sought his biceps, her fingers tightening and flexing as she rose up and crashed back down.

“Fuck,” he swore as she latched onto his neck, biting harder than necessary before soothing it with her tongue. His own fingers grasped her hips, holding her tightly as he began to thrust up into her, feeling her muscles clamping tighter and tighter around him.

“I’m gonna … Simon … I can’t …” she whimpered, her finger again finding her clit. He watched, fascinated, as she pushed herself over the edge, crying out, his name tumbling repeatedly from her lips. Her muscles clenched wildly around him, and she shuddered in his arms as she began to calm.

She gazed down at him, squeezing his fierce hardness from within. Simon shivered and bucked up into her, desperate for his own release. But suddenly, Paula stood, kissed him once on the forehead, and headed for the door.

“Pawler … what in the bloody hell?” he whined.

“Just taking a page out of your book, Simon. I got mine, and you can deal with yours yourself.”

“What?” he demanded, glancing from her, to his still throbbing arousal poking out of his fly, and back to her again.

She flashed him a smirk over her shoulder before exiting his dressing room. “Remember? It’s all about me. Live with it.”

TBC ... perhaps ...
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It's All About Me