The Last Love Song (A BWWM BDSM Romance)

by Lyn Rosella

  I swallowed. "Please come sit down," I said, indicating the chair that Pauline had occupied earlier.

  "After you."

  I led him inside the suite's living area and settled into my armchair, crossing my legs and sitting up straight. I didn't want this to appear to be a casual meeting, despite how we were dressed. I was only in a soft t-shirt and jeans myself - something I wouldn't be caught dead in out in the public eye.

  "What did you want to discuss?" he asked, sitting across from me.

  "Your attitude," I said, "has been unacceptable." I saw no reason to sugarcoat it or to dance around the subject.

  "My attitude?" Damn him, why did he seem so amused?

  "Yes." I struggled to keep my cool. "The way that you speak to me is unprofessional and frankly a little appalling. If you don't respect me then how can I trust you?"

  The slight grin left his face. "I respect you." I was a little taken aback at how sincerely he said it. "I respect the hell out of you."

  I coughed. That certainly wasn't the response I was expecting. "Your attitude doesn't reflect that and I can't have it spreading through the rest of my staff. Despite how things appear on the surface, this is a business."

  "I don't recall saying more than two words to you in the presence of anyone else."

  "I..." That was true. Damn. "We're trying to maintain a certain image here," I said, but without the confidence I normally projected.

  "Why was that intern watching me all night at the bar?"

  I gaped. "You noticed?"

  "It's my job to notice things."

  I wondered if he noticed the warmth of my cheeks as they flushed. I liked to think my skin was too dark to visibly blush but if he was watching as closely as he actually seemed to be... I shrugged and tried to seem nonchalant. "I asked him to keep an eye on you. You're still new and I wanted to make sure you weren't going to get drunk and hit on any of my staff." I leaned in and grinned and exaggerated grin. "I was taking responsibility for my own safety. I can't have my security team getting intoxicated on the clock."

  He blinked for a moment, considering my words. "You were trying to prevent me from sleeping with your people," he said. Then his lip quirked in a half-smile. "You couldn't stand the thought of me fucking anyone except maybe... you."

  My heart seized as if I'd been struck in the chest. "Whoa. That is a huge jump in logic, buddy."

  "I call it like I see it." He rose from the chair and turned away.

  "Don't you walk away from me!" I barked. The man was so infuriating! I couldn't let him win this argument; no more last words for him. He was on my turf, in my world - I didn't care who the hell he thought he was. "I'm not done talking to you!"

  Slowly, he turned back to face me. Something about the way he moved made me sit back in my seat, cringing away like a damn wilting flower. I froze there, tense, waiting for him to say something while his blue eyes bore into my soul.

  "You might think you can order me around," he said, "And out there, when I'm on the clock, you can." He gestured towards the door, indicating the outside. "But when we're alone..."

  Moving faster than I could track with my eyes, he jumped forward and grabbed my arms. In a flash of movement, he had my wrists gathered in one large hand and held them tight behind my head, his thick arm resting on my shoulder. I tried to wrench away but he held tight.

  "What are you doing?" I hissed. Why am I not screaming, I asked myself.

  He leaned in close, his face just a hair away from mine. I picked up the scent of his aftershave with my frantic breaths. "When we're alone," he repeated, "You will not do the ordering. And you will not lie."

  I was mesmerized by his eyes. I should have felt fear, but he wasn't hurting me, and he wasn't shouting. Instead, I felt something I hadn't felt in the presence of a man in a very, very long time. Heat. Arousal. I felt like I was melting. So instead of shouting at him to get the hell out of my room and to pack his bags the way I should have, I nodded slowly.

  "Now tell me." His breath brushed my lips with a warm breeze as he spoke. "Why did you ask that intern to watch me?"

  "I wanted him to cockblock you."

  "Tell me why."

  "I didn't want you to sleep with any of my staff." My heart was racing so fast I thought it might jump from my chest. I didn't even feel this much anticipation when I was about to get onstage anymore. His lips were so close... so close...

  "Why."

  "I don't know," I whispered. That was the God's Honest Truth. I wasn't thinking about sleeping with him when I gave the order. At least not consciously. I didn't want to keep him for myself as he had been hinting.

  Did I?

  He seemed to accept that answer. He nodded, and I released a held breath, grateful that he was letting the question go. He shifted and whispered in my ear, his voice like gravel. "Good girl."

  A violent shiver ran through my body.

  I turned towards him. What are you doing?! my mind screamed, but I couldn't stop myself. I turned, lips parted, breathing shakily.

  It was all the invitation he required. His lips devoured mine. It was the only way to describe it. He tilted me even further back in my seat using the arm that held me captive as his lips enveloped me with heat. They were so soft, yet firm, demanding. The fingers of his free hand turned my chin just where he wanted; then he slanted his mouth over mine with a deep and hungry growl.

  His lips slicked over mine, pressing, gently sucking.

  His tongue plunged inside my mouth with deep, possessive swipes.

  And I sank. My body trembled with little tremors of pleasure as I melted beneath his sensual assault. I'd never been kissed like that - with such assurance and such aggression. There was absolutely no doubt that he was in control.

  I whimpered as he shifted even closer, his body towering over mine. Having my arms restrained, having him kiss me like that - like he was going to consume me - it was turning me on in a big way. I crossed my legs tight, and my whimper became a whine. Too much. I can't.

  He pulled back just enough to speak. "One of these nights," he said, planting another slow kiss on my swollen lips between words, "You're going to knock on my door. And I'm going to give you exactly what you need."

  "And what exactly do I need?" I whispered, barely opening my eyes.

  "You need to restrained. And dominated. And fucked."

  I gasped as he withdrew and released me. I held a hand to my chest as I struggled to catch my breath; my racing heart pounded beneath my palm.

  "Shh," he said, placing his hand over mine. His voice was softer now - almost like he was a different man. "You're okay." He tucked a loose curl of hair back beneath my headband.

  "I have work to do," I said breathily. I couldn't take my eyes off his lips. Somehow I didn't think I'd be able to stop thinking about what they'd done to me. He had to get out of there before I did something stupid.

  "And I should prepare for my shift," he said, backing away. A smile played across his lips, and I watched it, frozen, until he finally turned and left the room.

  Only then did I take the deep breath I so badly needed. I actually felt a little dizzy. The room itself felt so much colder without him, so much emptier. Too empty.

  What the hell was this man doing to me?

  I never said a thing about our encounter to anybody. I tried my best to forget about it. There's no way in hell I'll ever go to that man's room, I assured myself, though my eyes trailed after him as he led my crew's way through the lobby the next morning. No way.

  If I couldn't fire him and I couldn't get through to him, I'd just have to ignore him.

  So that's exactly what I tried to do. I refused to look at him as we were driven over to the airport. I was dressed in travel-casual, which still meant a skirt and heels because people snapped pictures no matter where I went. At least my white blouse was loose and comfortable and I could sit barefoot for the flight. Vaughn sat in the front of the towncar and I sat in the back with Lexi and Gavin riding the backwards-faci
ng seat, facing me. They busily made phone calls to the venue and the hotel and double-checked our itinerary for our short time in Chicago while I stared out the window and gave them unenthused answers to their questions. Pauline would not be joining us for this leg of the trip, so I would have to rely on the two of them to get everything done. They were competent, though, they could handle it.

  I continued ignoring Vaughn as he led us through the airport to one of our record label's jets. We hadn't flown with the general public in ages. The security lines alone were too much of a risk, our schedules were tight and we couldn't afford to miss a flight. I deliberately wore sunglasses and stared straight ahead as we were ushered into the plane.

  And I managed to ignore him for the entire flight - a real accomplishment, as he kept shooting unreadable looks in my direction once we were allowed to wander the cabin. I instead focused on my laptop - I was working on a new song. This one was meant to be all about getting stronger through the power of dance. Totally cheesy? Maybe. Danceable and catchy? Absolutely.

  But unwanted words kept sticking in my head and finding their way onto my page. Lips. Breath. Hold me down. Luckily this was one part of the job where I didn't have to rush. If the words wouldn't come out right I could work on them later. Apparently it would have to be after I managed to shed Vaughn from my little entourage. After the Relevance Awards. But it'll have to be before the next official tour. I didn't think I could tolerate four straight months traveling with him without totally flipping shit.

  My intention was to keep ignoring him - but then we were mobbed outside our hotel.

  Just perfect.

  I didn’t see anything amiss right away. I stepped out of the car as soon as it pulled to a stop, eager to get out of the confined space and further away from Vaughn.

  It was a mistake. I was a few feet ahead of him and my assistants when I first heard the screaming. I stopped in my tracks but it was too late - the hoard, wherever it was coming from, had spotted me.

  Screaming fans, waving albums and posters and paraphernalia in the air as they ran towards me from around the corner of the lobby. They'd hidden there on purpose.

  "Who fucking leaked?" I heard Gavin shout. These people had known I was coming - somebody on my crew had let my location slip somewhere.

  Then they were on me. They swarmed around me, cutting me off from the car and my crew. I heard Vaughn curse somewhere over their excited screams. One person shoved a pen and an album under my nose - I grabbed it and tried to sign it, but someone else was waving their poster in my face and another fan was touching my hair.

  As one mass, they pushed into me, backing me away from the car. It wasn't deliberate - everyone just wanted to get as close as they could. They weren't dangerous individuals, they were just fans. But so many of them crowding me all together at once was dangerous. I nearly stumbled. "People, if you can't be orderly I'm not going to sign another damn thing."

  That seemed to quiet them. At least they stopped shoving each other and formed a sort of line that still managed to snake all the way around me.

  Vaughn finally reached us. He had to physically lift and turn fans out of his way to get to my side. "All right people, back off!" he barked. A few stepped back - just one step - but not all.

  "It's fine," I said, resting a hand on his arm. "I'll just sign a few things for these nice fans. Are you all coming to the benefit concert tonight?"

  They answered in shrieks. "We love you, Zenaida!" was shouted from somewhere in the back of the mob, and someone else screamed, "You're my favorite!" from behind me. The woman in front of me asked, "Can you give us tickets?"

  "Sorry, I'm sold out," I said with a tight smile. I didn't know if that was true - I only knew that I had no tickets in my pockets.

  I signed a few posters and tickets and CDs but the crowd showed no sign of thinning. If anything else, it was getting bigger. The word was out and people were gathering. "We should get you out of here, soon," Vaughn warned.

  I nodded in agreement. Time to quietly try to extract myself. "Okay, folks," I said, "I've got to rehearse for tonight. Thank you all for coming to see me."

  Sounds of disappointment rose from the crowd. Others muttered angrily. There was another hard push from the back. Vaughn grasped my arm, all business now. "Let's move."

  But the crowd had gone from orderly to restless and aggressive. Someone made a grab for my hand. Another got a handful of my hair and tugged. I shrieked and tried to wrench away from both of them. "Get the fuck off me!"

  Hair ripped free from my scalp. I stumbled a step and took a sharp elbow to the ribs. Fuck, they were going to tear me apart in their frenzy to get close.

  But then my feet were off the ground. Strong arms lifted me up and spun me away. Vaughn held me upright but off the sidewalk, my hips against his shoulder. I grasped his thick bicep and held on as he strode away from the crowd - not running, but not wasting any time.

  "We've got this," Lexi said, giving me a worried look before she and Gavin rushed towards the crowd. "Who wants tickets?" she asked in a sing-song voice. "Line up! Come on, people, I've got a limited amount!"

  Then Vaughn was packing me into the backseat of the car, crawling in after me, blocking my view of the mob. "Go!" he shouted at the driver. I nearly tumbled from the seat as he stepped on the gas.

  "Shit, your fans are insane," he said, "Are they always like that?"

  I touched the sore spot on my scalp. They hadn't gotten a clump of hair as I'd feared, but it still hurt. "They get too excited," I said, "They don't really mean much harm."

  "No, but it would be easy for someone who did to get too close in all of that," he said.

  It was true. Every celebrity I knew had a story about a stalker that got too close. "Well, that's why you're here," I said. I pulled a mirror from my purse and checked my makeup. Still intact. "And thank you. You acted quickly. The last time I was mobbed like that, I lost a watch and a shoe before I was fished out."

  He laughed out loud - a deep rumble that I could feel in my bones. I spared him a short glance before returning my mirror to my purse.

  We circled around to the back of the hotel. Luckily all seemed quiet. Vaughn jumped out first. "Wait here, let me find the entrance." I watched him jog up to the building and test the closest door. Locked. He tested the next and yanked it open. He exchanged words with someone inside before coming back to the car.

  "Okay," he said, "It's an employee entrance. The girl doesn't know if the suite's ready but she'll take you to another room until they can straighten all this out."

  "Great," I muttered, getting out of the car. He moved to take my hand and help me step down but I shook him off and strode ahead.

  The employee - a young woman in a housekeeping uniform - began to sputter as I approached. "Where can I wait?" I asked. "My assistants will be checking me in momentarily."

  "F-follow me, Miss Zenaida." She led us down a short hallway, then unlocked one of the rooms and let us past. "I just cleaned it myself," she said, "I'll find out what's happening and let you know when the real room is ready."

  "Thank you, Monica," Vaughn said. He shook the girl's hand - and my eyes narrowed. "We appreciate your help."

  "Oh, it's no trouble at all!"

  Then, Vaughn and I were alone. The very man I had been trying to ignore all day stood in the tiny, single-room hotel room with me, with the door shut, with no one else around and no idea how long we'd be waiting.

  I was used to mobs of fans. I was used to this sort of chaos. I'd been around the world many times, stayed in many different types of hotels and hovels, traveled by bus, plane, train, you name it. I was a worldly woman, a pop culture icon, a millionaire many times over.

  But there, with him, I suddenly felt shy.

  "Sit down," he said. I was still hovering near the door, watching him warily like I was afraid he was going to pounce. "We may be here for a while."

  I didn't want to sit on the bed. Not with him there. So I pulled out the single chair from
the tiny desk and lowered myself onto it, never daring turn my back on him.

  He chuckled. "Shit, Zenaida, I'm not a wolf, I'm not going to attack you. Stop looking at me like that."

  "I'm glad you think this is funny," I mumbled.

  "I don't," he sat. He sat on the edge of the bed, facing me, and rested his elbows on his knees. "Thrilled as I am to have you alone in a hotel room, I don't think you're ready. But we'll get there."

  "What do you mean?"