Breaking All the Rules

by Abi Walters

  “What were you talking to Tyler about that is so impressive?” He bit.

  “Tyler works for Monarch Records. We were talking about business.”

  “Yeah, it sounds like business.”

  Mia hated the accusation in his voice, “You don’t own me, Benson.”

  “The hell I do. Is that why you didn’t take my car this morning, Mia? Were you going to meet Tyler?”

  “Jesus Christ, Benson!” Mia hissed. “What is your problem?”

  “You’re my problem, Mia.”

  “Please enlighten me, then,” She gave an exasperated sigh. “How am I your problem when you’re the one who left me alone after fucking me senseless? I think that makes you my problem.”

  Images of him over her, his cock buried deep inside her as she barely clung to life flashed before her eyes. She cursed herself for growing wet at the memory she tried so hard to ward off.

  “Dammit!” The sound of his fist hitting his desk made Mia jump. “Why do you have to be so difficult? You should’ve taken my car this morning, and I don’t like you flirting with Tyler.”

  “You ended whatever was between us when you left Saturday. Goodbye, Benson.”

  Mia ended the call before she could say anything she’d regret. She missed his voice. She imagined him behind his desk with his tie loosened as he fumed over the thought of her flirting with Tyler. Had he been with another woman over the weekend? Had he left her bed and slid into another? Maybe he wasn’t behind his desk with a loosened tie. Maybe he was waiting for a pretty lunch date. Maybe he had moved on from Saturday night like it meant nothing at all to him.

  Then why had he called her? Why did he sound so hurt, so strained, so angry? Why had he sent a car for her that morning? She had only joked about the ride to work, yet he took her concern seriously, making the arrangement. He had made no contact on Sunday, leaving her alone with her thoughts, some sad songs and a bottle of cheap wine. After she had dinner with Lora and her mother, Mia had wanted nothing more than to call Benson, but she had nothing of him but a vivid memory and a fresh scar on her heart.

  Work went by painfully slow from that point of the day. Having skipped lunch, Mia was painfully aware of the grumble from her stomach. A trip to a vending machine in one of the many break rooms and a bag of potato chips didn’t seem to settle the grumble. She’d skipped breakfast and lunch on top of barely eating over the weekend. By five o’clock she felt like she had accomplished nothing but complain about her hunger and wallow in her misery over Benson.

  She avoided eye contact with her coworkers as she fled the building. The streets around her bustled with life. Men and women passed around her buzzing, phones clutched to their ears with a coffee cup teetering in their hands. A roaring sea of cars moved relentlessly just feet away. None of it mattered. All she could see, all she could hear, was Benson Ward just feet away, leaning against his limo with his legs crossed casually.

  At first glance, Mia noticed his previously fresh face was wearing the thin shadow of a day or two gone without shaving. It looked good on him. Too good. Paired with a dark suit tailored to perfection and his disheveled dark chocolate hair, Benson looked like an urban god casually surveying his masses. That is, until he looked at her. There was no hiding the bags under his dull eyes. His mouth was tight. Mia wanted to touch the stubble that he wore so well on his chiseled jaw.

  Instead of turning and walking the other way, Mia gravitated towards him. She was under his spell. Despite two days of swearing off Benson Ward, she would do anything to smell the warm embers and leather that drifted off his body. She was an addict looking for her next fix.

  “What are you doing here?” She questioned, trying to sound as collected and cool as she did over the phone, but failing miserably.

  “Making sure you get a ride home,” His voice was dry, his lips thin.

  She waited a long moment. His eyes were so hot on her she wondered if they bore lasers. She wanted to run; she wanted to find that control she needed. Instead she shifted and said, “Only because the subways will be busy.”

  Benson’s thin grimace broke into a fragmented smile as he grabbed her arm and helped her into the limo. When he sat next to her and closed the door to the outside world, Mia became aware of the intimacy that lingered, the closeness that was now engaged in the confined space.

  He was on her within a second. She couldn’t resist the kiss. She craved his lips, his tongue. His facial hair felt so good against her cheeks. She wondered how it’d feel between her thighs. His hands dug under her blouse aching to feel her skin.

  “I missed you so much, Mia,” He growled into her mouth.

  “How can you miss something you never had?” Her words were distant.

  Benson drew back, his eyes hard, “You’re mine, Mia. I’ve told you.”

  “And I must fail to see how sleeping with me one night and then not hearing from you makes me yours? When you left me to cry myself to sleep, non-the-less?”

  He winced and rubbed his jaw, “I didn’t want to hurt you.”

  “You did a great job with that,” She shot, sarcastically.

  “You look like you haven’t slept,” He said softly, his hand cradling her jaw. “You look sick.”

  “The aftermath of Benson Ward,” She chuckled bitterly.

  He jerked her head in his direction, waiting until her eyes finally drifted to him to speak, “Then this is the aftermath of Mia Barnes.” He looked a little worse up close. The bags she had notice at a distant were darker, heavier. His eyes appeared irritated. “Every time I close my eyes I think of you beneath me. Every time I try to eat I taste your sweet juices. You’ve driven men mad. I thought if I had you I could breathe again, but dammit, it’s gotten worse. You’re inside me, Mia.”

  And I want you inside me, Benson.

  She looked at the man who was so close to her she could smell his intoxicating breath. His eyes softened under her inspection. The man was undone. He was confused and afraid, his heart aching inside him. He felt sabotaged by his own body. Since their encounter Saturday, Benson had convinced himself he’d gone utterly mad. He had ran through every possible scenario, every possible reason for Mia’s presence inside him. He thought of wooing her into bed again, only to have his heart ache at the thought of leaving here so vulnerable again. He couldn’t possibly tell her how she made him feel. Or could he?

  “Mia, precious, Mia,” He buried his face in her hair and breathed in her scent of ginger and roses, savoring every second of the euphoria. “You make my heart beat. You make me ache for something I can’t describe, something I don’t know.”

  “Why did you leave, Benson?” She was crying.

  He bolted upright, his fingers desperately trying to erase the tears, “I told you.”

  “That’s not enough.”

  He swore and looked out the window, then back at Mia, “I-I was afraid, Mia. When I look at you, I rethink everything.”

  “So you split, screw around and then decide you want me back?” She gave a grim laugh.

  “The thought of anyone but you makes me sick,” He bore through gritted teeth, drawing her attention back at his face. “Why are you fighting me?”

  “You can’t just come and go as you please, Benson,” She strained. “Why are you telling me all of this if you’re just going to leave tomorrow?”

  “I’m trying, okay?” He nearly shouted. “This isn’t something I do every day, Mia. This isn’t something I’ve ever done. But you… you…”

  “Make you forget how to speak?” Mia shifted and sat on her knees so they were eye to eye. “Make you forget that air is necessary to life because the only thing necessary for my life is you?”

  He met her gaze, “You make me wonder how I’ve gone twenty eight years without you.”

  She shivered, and then gasped as his lips pressed against her neck, leaving a hot trail up to her lips. He looked at her with the intensity he had the first time he laid eyes on her. He was enthralled with Mia, captivated by her in ever
y way possible. Their kiss wasn’t hard, nor was it soft. It was seeking, pressing, embedded with the dire passion and raw emotion the two shared. Benson pulled away with a jagged breath, “Let me come home with you.”

  “I can’t have sex with you right now,” When she saw his pained frown, she shifted and smiled. “No- Benson, look at me. I physically cannot have sex with you until I eat something. I haven’t eaten since yesterday at Lora’s. I don’t have the energy.”

  Amusement swept over his face and he leaned over to a panel displayed on the sleek interior of limo, “Change of plans, Victor. We’ll be going to La Bocco this evening.”

  Mia quirked an eyebrow, “You can get in anywhere, can’t you?”

  “I own the place, so I’d hope they have room for me.”

  “What don’t you own?” Mia asked while looking out the window, wondering if the buildings they were passing belonged to Benson.

  “A lot,” He shrugged as she turned back to him. “I’m working on it, though. Give me a few more years.”

  She leaned into him, “How do you do it?”

  “It’s in my blood…. my dad is an investment banker.”

  Mia tilted up, surprised by the mention of his father- a tiny glimpse into his personal life. When she was around Benson he was in work mode or sex mode, there was no mention of the little things in between. Though he was cautious about it, he had opened up, just a little.

  She hoped he wouldn’t ask her about her father. He knew better. In a Mia induced high, Benson had gathered all the information he could on her. He knew where she grew up, where she attended college and all about her father’s fatal motorcycle accident. He had taken a curve too widely, too quickly. Mia was too young. It was hard to find information on her from that point until she arrived in New York, even with the help from a Ward Industry tech. It was like she had disappeared for four years, only to appear in the Big Apple shortly after her eighteenth birthday.

  “I don’t think I’m dressed for La Bocco,” She mused, glancing down at herself. She hadn’t wanted to get out of bed that morning, let alone wear anything but sweats and a baggy shirt. She settled for the most low maintenance outfit she could find in her closet, a pair of black slacks paired with a lightweight red blouse featuring big white polka dots she’d found at a vintage shop. She didn’t even wear heels, just a plain pair of black flats. It definitely didn’t seem like the correct attire for a swanky Italian restaurant.

  Benson seemed to think otherwise, “You look so good I don’t know if I’ll have an appetite.”

  “Think of how terrible it’ll look if you don’t eat the food at your own restaurant.”

  “I can’t help the fact that I’ll be distracted.”

  His eyes twinkled with amusement as he grinned at her. How did a man so beautiful even exist? Baggy eyes and all, Benson was a model of perfection. She was contemplating telling him how good he looked with facial hair when the door to the limo opened. Victor was waiting as Benson climbed out, and then helped Mia, clutching her tight as they strolled into the stunning building with ease.

  La Bocco was the definition of fine dining. As Benson exchanged brief words with an attendant, Mia drunk in the beauty and elegance of the restaurant. The shiny marble floors were a piece of art in themselves, the boxy mosaic highlighting shades of brown, black, and cream. Those colors flourished around them. The walls were the delicious cream color from the floor, accented with ornate sconces that mocked the light fixtures that hung from the ceiling with breathless grace. A display of stunning fresh flowers were nestled near the entrance, and Mia could smell their sweet nectar wafting over her. A majestic staircase was just feet away, wrought iron railing curving around it as it led to a second floor. The stairs were a solid cream stone. On either side of them were two half walls carved from heavy oak. The wood bore a delicate wood carving. Further than the walls were tables, all full of men in suits and women in expensive designer dresses. Mia tried to wear her business casual outfit proudly alongside the swanky bankers and their trophy wives.

  “Don’t get lost in your head tonight, precious,” Benson muttered in her ear, his tongue flicked her earlobe with nonchalance.

  She was silent but strong as he led her up the castle-like staircase to the second floor. It mocked the ground floor is design and layout, though there were far less tables and those that were there were spread apart as if to ensure privacy. Knowing exactly where he was going, Benson led Mia to their table, politely nodding at his acquaintances as they passed by.

  With Benson across from her, Mia eased into her chair. He looked like he was in his element. He was pure power, radiating confidence and sex from his seat. He watched her watch him, keeping his smile to himself as he tried to analyze what exactly she was looking for. They were interrupted by the server who was exceptionally nervous around Benson. They ordered their wine and Benson let Mia look over the menu, offering brief suggestions and descriptions of the food until she had decided on a grilled Branzino with roasted cauliflower and nuts. He stuck with his normal venison with stuffed apples and cranberry sauce.

  They talked over their wine and then their food, sharing details of their work days. Benson was working on finalizing the venue set to open the next weekend, and he tried not to mention how displeased he was going to be to see Grant Bell. She talked about the wild life of a band manager. She left out all the parts where she was the one partying, drinking, and flirting with every guy she could get her hands on. Instead she talked about trashed hotel rooms and flat tires on the sides of highways. She told him about how she’s visited every state but Hawaii and Alaska, and she’d spent a weekend in Mexico on vacation. They talked about Lora and her job at the university. Neither could gauge what was so interesting about Colonial American History. Benson’s foot rubbed up and down Mia’s leg the entire time under the cloak of the draped table cloth.

  It was almost normal. Almost domestic. His fingertips would graze hers, sending tingling bolts of heat to rest between her legs. When their eyes met, she conveyed her complete and utter infatuation with the man as delicately as she possibly could. He’d give her looks that conveyed his thirst for her body, his desire to throw her down and slide in and out of her until the sun came up. She didn’t blush, but instead shot the look right back.

  They were nearly done with their meal. They’d spent more time talking and exchanging sweet glances than focusing on the scrumptious delicacies on their plates. Benson had been right about being distracted.

  “Mia Barnes, what an absolute pleasure.”

  The voice was laced with sarcasm. The two turned to see a middle aged man approaching their table. She recognized him instantly. Nathan Barker was think and lanky. Even his tailored suits couldn’t hide the lack of definition in his body. His gray hair was slicked to the side. A long face riddled with arrogance, he was a display of everything Mia hated.

  “The pleasure’s all mine, Nathan.” Her eyes flashed at Benson, whose face lacked any trace of emotion. “Benson Ward, Nathan Barker of Barker Records.”

  Benson and Nathan shook and Nathan eyed the pair, “What a spectacle seeing the two of you together.”

  “How so?” Benson pressed, an eyebrow cocked and his lips thin. He reeked of Alpha Male. The intimidation barely affected Nathan who was always too wrapped up in himself to take to any sort of threat.

  “Mia, I’ve heard you’re doing quite well over at Monarch. I see sleeping your way to the top is doing wonders for your career.”

  Benson’s hands balled tightly at his side and his jaw hardened. Mia gave him a reassuring smile and looked at Nathan. She’d encountered him before. She’d encountered a dozen people accusing her of sleeping her way to the top, especially when Charlotte’s Drive decided to sign with Monarch and not Barker. Her relationship with Grant was big news in the music industry- an even bigger story when the two split. The rumors flew about who her next conquest would be.

  “It’s great to see you’re still insecure about a woman being successful in
a male dominated industry, Barker. Or could it be that you’re worried about your own failing libido and you’re projecting your lack of a sex life on me?”

  Nathan turned sharply and walked out with slumped shoulders. Mia smiled at her victory. She let the nasty comments get to her at first. She had worked her way through the industry just as everyone else had. She’d booked bands and bartended through college, and when she graduated with her degree in Public Relations with a minor in Marketing, she was a perfect candidate for Monarch Records. Grant had helped her land an interview, but he had no other influence on her career other than the nasty comments their relationship generated.

  Flashing her eyes over at Benson, Mia could see he was still deep in thought. He hadn’t even cracked a smile when she insulted Nathan. Had she embarrassed him? She wasn’t too versed on the etiquettes of the wealthy. She attended Monarch’s masquerade balls for Halloween and launch parties every year, but she was sure that was a far cry from charity events and swanky balls. Yup, she had definitely offended Benson is some way. They finished shortly after Nathan left, leaving the restaurant without saying but a few words to one another. They slide coolly into the awaiting limo.

  Benson was present, but he was not there. His eyes looked everywhere but hers. They would focus out the window then in his hands. His mouth had been pulled tight since Nathan approached them, the veins in his neck strained. His hands were still a tight white ball at his side. Mia watched the ticking time bomb next to her wondering when he’d blow.

  “Are you embarrassed to have been seen with me?” She finally asked meekly, afraid of the answer.

  “Mia.”

  “I didn’t sleep my way to the top. I’ve worked hard for what I have-”

  “Be quiet,” He hissed, closing the distance between the two. He hovered over her, his body sending out waves of heat that flushed her skin. “Do you think that I believe that, Mia?”

  “I don’t know what to think, Benson,” She tried to slip from his grasp but it was an impossible battle. “We were having a wonderful night until Barker came over. You have barely said three words to me since.”