by Lyn Rosella
I opened my mouth to speak but Vaughn cut in first. "I think the lady needs another drink."
"Yes," I said without thinking. Somewhere quiet. I wasn't ready to wallow in bed yet. "Hotel Lioness has a lounge in the lobby, do you know where that is?"
"Of course."
We were there in fifteen minutes. Vaughn led the way inside after sending the driver off. He motioned for me once he felt it was safe enough inside.
Sure enough, the dark lounge was quiet, and while not exactly empty, it was dark enough that I could go unrecognized if I was careful.
Vaughn led me to a booth off in a corner. "I'll order from the bar," he said "Wouldn't want a waitress to recognize you and freak out."
"Get something for yourself," I said wearily. "I'll feel so much better about this shitty night if I'm not drinking alone."
A small smile played on his lips when he nodded.
He fetched drinks from the bar -whiskey for me, beer for himself - and settled next to me in the booth.
I had no idea what to say. So I brooded over my drink and tried to calm my jittery nerves.
When he finally spoke, it did nothing to soothe my anxiety. "Why did you request me, Zenaida?"
My mind raced. I needed to see you. I need you to speak to me, to touch me. I didn't answer at all.
He stared at me with those intense blue eyes - the very first thing I had noticed about him.
"Let's play nice," he finally said. "How was your week? What have you been up to?"
I spouted idle chatter about rehearsals. He talked a bit about his assignment for the week - some actor doing a late night talk show tour before heading home to the east coast.
I didn't care about any of it. All the while I waited for the dominant sexual side of him to appear, but he gave no hint of it.
Finally I reached the end my rope. I couldn't stand wondering anymore. I had to know where I stood.
"You never asked about my… assignment," I whispered after a lull in our conversation.
"I didn't ask because I trusted that you did it."
"I'm just surprised. I thought you might want to hear about… how it went." My cheeks burned as the memory.
"That isn't how this works."
"Oh." That's it, then. Likely he'd found someone else to focus all that kinky energy on. Someone less difficult. I sank back in my seat, clutching my drink.
"You can't hire me out and just expect me to say the things you want, or to do the things you want. When it comes to us, Zenaida, I am in control. Not you. Letting go is something you're going to need to learn."
His words were exasperating, and a relief at the same time. He wasn't pulling away, he was teaching me a lesson. A hard one, too - I didn't relinquish control easily.
But I focused on one word in particular. "Us?" I squeaked.
He laughed. "I'm not nearly through with you yet, honey," he said. "Now come here." He pulled me tight against his side, wrapping a thick arm around my shoulders.
"What are you doing?" I asked, though I didn't resist.
"Holding you," he said. "I know tonight was rough. I can be nice, you know. I'm just not dancing to your tune."
I rested my head against his chest. Enveloped in his warmth, I felt something then that was even better than the sexual thrills that I'd anticipated.
I felt comfort.
I was emotionally ragged after that party. Too anxious to face the rest of my commitments. I would do it anyway - I was Zenaida after all. I hadn't become who was by letting my nerves get the better of me.
But I sure wished I could just focus on rehearsals and otherwise stay home.
I treasured that feeling of safety that I’d had in Vaughn’s arms. Short as that time had been, it stuck with me, and I clung to the memory as I navigated the next handful of premiere parties and social events without him. I knew that Camden himself was away so bumping into him wasn’t a concern - but people that he worked with kept showing up and whispering his name to me. He wants to collaborate, to work together, he wants to leave the past behind.
He wanted to launch one of his new artists off of my name, that was what he wanted to do. Regardless of who he was, I wasn’t interested in any new artist that I didn’t discover myself. Like Trakka. Not only had I helped create a hip hop star out of him, I’d made a loyal friend for life.
No one who was close to Camden could ever be my friend.
Lexi was at my side for the late night talk show appearance I had lined up later the next week. I’d mostly given up on seeing Vaughn again before the award show - his company just kept him too busy, kept sending me someone else. And I couldn’t bring it up with Lexi. No way. The girl would lose it.
“You’re unusually quiet,” she said, standing between me and the mirror while my stylist teased my curls higher and higher on my head. “Is everything okay? Anything happen while I was away?”
I straightened the skirt of my dress - red this time, slinky, sexy as hell. “Nope. Showed my face around town a bit, but there’s nothing to report.”
I wanted to keep my encounters with Camden’s people to myself. Nothing had really happened, all they’d done was talk to me. Letting myself get too upset about it was letting him win.
But Lexi, as usual, was on top of things. “I hear you-know-who has been sending out feelers,” she said, “I’ve heard from his camp a couple times myself.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “And? I assume you have an opinion about this if you’re bringing it up.”
“It… may be worth considering. Wait!” I’d opened my mouth to bite her head off. “There’s rumors that he may be joining the label, soon. The execs have already said that if it happens, they aren’t going to pressure you into anything, but working with him might-”
“Off the table!” I snapped.
“But-”
“Off. The. Table.”
Finally cowed, she cleared her throat and looked down at her clipboard.
I eyed my assigned bodyguard by the door and sighed. He was a familiar face - Bryan, I think - but he wasn’t who was I was hoping to see. I masked my disappointment by scowling.
“Have you double-checked what they plan on asking me?” I asked, more than ready to change the subject. I didn’t look at the script myself - Lexi took care of that, and she prepared my answers for me. I was as prepared as I could be. Still, it never hurt to keep on top of any changes in the plan.
“Yes,” she said, looking down at her clipboard. “They wanted a few different song clips, though. The one we gave them needed too many bleeps, they were censoring more than they could actually play on air.”
“I hope your replacements were just as difficult.”
“Of course,” she grinned.
That was all part of our brand - pushing the envelope, seeing what we could get away with.
Tell you the truth, baby, owning a cock ain’t nothin’ .
No, your cock ain’t nothin’, no,
Pussycentric pussymanic pussymagic.
I sang the lyrics, pouting my lips at myself in the mirror. Real feminist shit right there, I thought, rolling my eyes to myself. No way would a line like that make it onto the television - but people would hear the bleeps and jump onto Youtube to see what the hell they’d missed. Just giving the people what they want!
“All right,” I said, sliding from the chair. “Let’s get this shit over with.”
◦◦◦
I never should have made that stupid claim so many years ago. “I don’t do love songs.” The question continued to chase me no matter how many times I offered the same exact answer. “I am not sentimental and I don’t have time for love.” It never changed. I could say it in my sleep.
“I need a minute,” I said to Lexi as I entered my dressing room. I held the door open and waited, gesturing for her to get out.
She made a face - I know, I know, I’m rude as shit - but she walked out without complaining. I was about to shut the door but someone crowded into the doorway right behind m
e, pressing me forward into the room.
“Hey-” I started to protest, but a heavy hand covered my mouth.
I froze. Time itself froze - I stood trapped in that moment as fear turned my blood cold.
The door slammed behind me. I was alone with a strange man, trapped, overpowered, oh, God…
“Surprise, sweetheart.”
Vaughn! My limbs turned to jelly with relief. I twisted around in his grip and stepped away. Whatever he saw on my face made him chuckle.
“You scared the shit out of me!” I exclaimed. But I wasn’t angry. Not really. I was just happy to see him. “I didn't think you'd be here. You weren't assigned. Where's the other guy?”
"I arranged a little switch-off." He said it like it was no big deal, but what if his coworker suspected something. "Trust me," he said.
I nodded.
"Sit."
I sank to the soft cream-colored couch, and he leaned back against the vanity where half of my hair products still resided. I could see myself in the mirror behind him, surrounded by tiny white bulbs. I looked different than I did only a minute ago. Softer. It was nearly imperceptible, but I saw it.
And I felt it. I relaxed into the couch and waited for him to speak, waited for him to tell me what to do next.
"Show me."
"Show you what?"
"Sir."
My eyes narrowed. "Excuse me?"
"Show me how you performed your assignment. And call me 'sir.'"
My pride made me want to rebel, but my body had other ideas. Already my awareness of the world around me had shrunk to the size of the room. My work, my worries, my responsibilities - mist.
Still, this was escalating a little quickly. He'd barely said hello! "Can't you at least pretend to be civilized for a minute? Try asking me how my day was, maybe?"
He quirked an eyebrow at that, expectancy written all over his face, and waited. His silence alone was enough to make me cringe.
Finally, tentatively, I added, "Sir?"
A wolfish grin spread across his face. "How was your day, honey?"
"Long. Busy." What was I doing? I didn't want to talk about my day. As soon as the words came out of my mouth, I was rolling my eyes at myself. I'd been waiting to meet him like this again for too long, I didn't get Vaughn alone often enough to waste our time on pleasantries - not if I wanted to keep exploring this thing I had with him.
He read me like a book. "Done?" He asked. I nodded. "So show me."
I hitched up the short skirt of my red minidress, revealing my lacy black thong. I can't believe I'm doing this.
"I started like this," I said, tracing my fingers across the soft skin of my inner thighs. I hoped he wasn't planning on just watching me reenact his assignment - it had been a slow, sweet torture, but that wasn't what I wanted right then - not with him finally there, just out of reach. I wanted more than my own slender hands could give me.
"Then what?"
I bit my lip. Was I really going to reveal myself to him? I was as nervous as a schoolgirl after prom! No one had ever made me feel like this. Do it. You want to. Just go with it. "Then I pulled my panties away a little." I did as I described, pulling the now damp material aside, baring my sex to him.
He inhaled sharply.
I'd been onstage in front of thousands, in videos seen by millions, in every hot and revealing sort of outfit imaginable, and I never felt as sexy as I did in that moment.
I spread my legs even wider, baring all to him. Watching his eyes, I dragged a finger through my soft folds.
"How did you touch yourself?" he asked. "How did you get yourself to the edge?"
"I touched my clit," I said shyly. Another word I could sing on onstage but was sheepish to say to him. "Just in gentle circles at first." I did as I said, teasing my sensitive pearl. The light contact made me ache for more.
"Keep touching yourself for me, honey," he said, pulling out his phone.
I tensed. "What are you doing?"
"I want to remember this when we're apart."
"No." I clamped my legs together tight, hiding myself away.
"No?" He asked, his voice quiet. Dangerous.
But I wasn't playing. "No, Vaughn." I emphasized his name. "I can't have something like that leak. I can't risk it." Something crossed his face. Hurt? "I trust you," I said quickly. "But I don't trust the cloud." I’d only ever taken one, single naked video in all my life. With Camden, of course, young idiot that I was. We’d deleted it, but the thought of it magically reappearing made me break out in a cold sweat.
"Okay," he said, jamming the phone back in his pocket.
"Okay?"
"Yes. I want to push your boundaries, Zenaida, but I don't want to do anything that you're truly uncomfortable with."
"Oh." Thoughtful and considerate on top of everything else. What planet was this man from?
“Where were we?” He asked. “I didn't tell you to put that pussy away.” I smiled and let my legs fall back open. “Panties off,” he said. “No more fooling around. Show me how to really get down to it.”
How I really get down to it is normally in a rush, I thought as I tugged my panties down over my legs. But Vaughn didn't seem like the type to rush - he was a man who liked to take his time. I dropped the damp garment onto the floor next to me, then spread my legs once more to him, baring all this time.
He made a sound of approval low in his throat. I spurred me on - I dragged a finger between the petals of my sex before focusing in on my clit, resuming my slow circling. It felt so hot, so sexy to be doing that in front of him. I moaned a little, beginning to appreciate having an audience. There was something very gratifying about the burning in his eyes.
I was so into it that he startled me when he moved. He leaned over me, placing one hand on the wall just behind my shoulder. Then he placed his other hand over mine, between my legs. His finger curved over my own as I froze.
"Keep going."
I looked up into his eyes as I resumed my circular motions. The added pressure from his own finger, his body heat, his very scent - I was suddenly so much hotter, so much needier - so much closer to the edge.
"This is how you like it?" he asked, his breath hot against my cheek. I nodded, biting my lip. I was afraid if I tried to speak my words would only come out as one long moan. It was such a strange sensation, too. I craved his touch, and I almost had it - but he was really only touching my finger. Shivers of pleasure rolled through me as I continued stroking my sensitive button, but what I needed even more was for him to take over - to take control of my body.
I'd never experienced anything like it before. When had I become so eager to let go?
"What about like this?" he asked. Then he guided my finger with his, downward, between my slick nether lips and to the source of my essence. Then, still guiding, he pressed my finger along with his own inside my aching walls.
My mouth fell open and my head fell back. I could feel myself fluttering and clenching around my intruding digit - and his.
He took my open mouth as an invitation and plunged his tongue inside with a deep and fiery kiss. He swallowed up the moans that flowed from me. My hips rose, dancing against our hands as he pressed us as deeply inside my body as he could.
Our fingers thrust slowly, building a rhythm together. I was drunk on his kiss, on his touch - but was he even actually touching me? He was still only guiding me. He wasn't taking me. And the longer in went on, the more I wanted it. I was spiraling higher, slowly higher, but there was the promise of even greater pleasure in the air, the distant scent of something so much more intense - a hint of his power, and what he could do to me.
His words returned to me from that night at the pool. "You aren't ready for what I want to do to you, yet." Was I, now?
Softly, I moaned his name. "Vaughn." It sounded more like a whine. A plea.
"Do you want to come, sweetheart?" he asked.
"Yes. Yes." I nodded fervently as tremors of excitement wracked my body. Yes.
&n
bsp; "Say it."
I hesitated only a moment. "I want to come."
"Ask me."
Fuck, his voice - that deep gravelly sound was going to drive me wild. Especially when he was so demanding. "Can I come?" I asked. Then I ventured, "Can I come, sir?"
He grunted, and I could see the muscles in his arm tense as he braced himself harder against the wall behind me. I filed that away for later.