by Lyn Rosella
I was shaking when we stopped just outside the women's dressing room. Ignoring the hustle and the bustle around me, I squeezed Vaughn's hand. "Thank you," I said. I spotted Gavin not to far away - he waved impatiently. I was overdue to get back to my seat. Too damn bad, the seat-warmer wouldn't give a shit about the time.
"I can't believe I did that," I said, looking down at my feet. "I haven't faced him in... I don't know how long."
"You did good, sweetheart," he said, his voice low so that no one would overhear. He squeezed my hand back - but then he released me. "Go on and get changed. I'll be right here."
I nodded. I would have rather kept on holding his hand. I would have rather disappeared with him somewhere dark and quiet. But work wasn't over, I wasn't done having cameras pointed in my face, and I wouldn't be done until after the after-party.
But I'd faced the worst. I'd faced Camden. The rest would be easy after that.
The night was as hectic as expected. I'd changed back into my ballgown after the performance - it was the whole version of the torn-up dress I'd worn onstage. A pretty good idea on my art department's part - maybe I'd send them a note later.
I’d rushed to my seat and barely had time to sit for even a minute before the presenters announced the Best Music Video of the Year award.
“Zenaida! Get back up on this stage, lady!” I didn’t recognize the presenter. I thought he must have been some up-and-coming actor or an internet star or something.
“Oh, gosh, thank you so much!” I gushed, accepting the golden statue - a star in a frame that I guessed was supposed to symbolize a computer monitor. “I’m so glad y’all liked my video!” I said from behind the little podium.
The win wasn’t entirely unexpected, so I did have a short speech prepared. I ran down my list of names, “I’d like to thank my manager, my family back home in Philly - hi mom!” I waved at the camera. “And of course my lovely, wonderful, beautiful fans, each and every one of you!” The audience clapped and cheered politely. There weren’t any real fans in the house, there were only music industry and movie folk. Sort of made it less fun if you asked me, but I didn’t plan the thing.
I hugged the award to my chest when I sat back down. This is why I do this. The music, making people happy. Sometimes I needed to remind myself. It was too easy to get all wrapped up in the bullshit of the business.
After that, I counted down the hours. Half an hour on the red carpet, two more interviews, one more interview, half and hour of meet-and-greets, one more drink, one more ass-kiss for the record label execs, and then...
Blessedly, finally, I was back in my hotel suite, kicking off my heels and tearing off the dress. Gavin, Lexi, a handful of the dancers, and Pauline crowded in after me as if I'd invited them in. Pauline had a bottle of champagne in each hand, and Gavin was rummaging in the kitchen cabinets for glasses.
Vaughn and Bryan were in the suite, too, but they were still on duty. No partying for them.
Not that I particularly wanted to party with these people, I'd seen enough of them all day. "Don't you guys have any friends?" I asked, exasperated. I took a glass of champagne from Pauline, anyway.
"Who needs friends when we have you?" Lexi said, grinning broadly. She flipped on the stereo and spun around with the music - Trakka's new album, of all things.
"I heard that Camden found you backstage," Pauline said, suddenly serious. "He wasn't supposed to be there. One of the security guys stupidly let him by just because he flashed a pass. Wasn't paying attention. I'll find out who it was."
"Don't worry about it," I said. Pauline's eyes nearly bugged from her skull, and the rest of the room fell silent.
"Don't worry about it?" she repeated. "Who are you and what have you done with Zenaida?"
I rolled my eyes. "Don't be so dramatic. Let's just say I appreciated the chance to finally tell him off."
"I thought you never wanted to see him again!"
"I didn't and I don't. Can we just leave it alone?" I shook my head. I didn't want to talk about it with them. I threw back my champagne and swallowed it all in one gulp. "Drink faster. I want to kick you out so I can go to sleep." But not until I flip through Lexi's clipboard and sneak a peek at the room assignments.
They weren't too thrilled to be rushed out the door but I was sure they would find other parties to attend if they really wanted to. It was easier for all of them, they wouldn't have cameras constantly in their face or stupid questions repeated at them every minute. They could go be themselves. I was ready to hide away for the night.
Or so I thought, until Vaughn winked at me on his way out the door.
"One of these nights you're going to knock on my door." My memory of him saying it was so clear that I could still feel his breath on my lips. "You need to be restrained. And dominated. And fucked." His words were so rough, so raw with his own need.
Was he waiting for me right then? Would he be sitting up, hoping, watching his door?
Because I was more ready in that moment than I'd ever been. I'd followed his instructions that week. I was feeling high off of our amazing performance, powerful after facing down Camden. I felt like I could do anything.
Even knocking on Vaughn's door. Because despite the scandal it would invite if we were caught, I wanted it. I wanted him. I'll be very, very careful, I assured myself. And I trusted him more than I trusted most people in my life, despite knowing him for a relatively short time. Oh shit, I'm really going to do this.
First I needed to disguise myself. It would look suspicious as hell if I wandered out in my gown, and even worse if I padded down the hall in my nightshirt wearing a pair of sunglasses. I may as well have held a sign that said, "Don't mind me, just sneaking around!"
I did have a pair of reading glasses - for disguise purposes only of course - and I could scarf back my hair and throw on a pair of jeans. I wouldn't be completely unrecognizable, but you'd have to actually look. If I kept my head down I could pull it off.
Feeling like a silly girl sneaking out to meet her boyfriend on a school night, I peeked out the suite's door into the hallway. It was completely quiet. No hotel staff, no guests. Thank goodness.
I carried an ice bucket just to look busy. It felt silly sneaking down the hall like that, in my half-assed disguise at three in the morning. But I was determined. I took the elevator down to his floor - Lexi had in fact had the room listings on her clipboard and it had been no trouble at all to grab it and taunt her with it while she was drunk.
His floor wasn't quite as quiet as mine had been. I heard someone using the snack machine in a little alcove next to the elevators. Do I wait them out? If I could get my back to them I doubted they'd recognize me at all. Hell, everyone staying in that hotel that night was probably too drunk to see straight, anyway. So I skipped past without looking up and breathed a sigh of relief when I reached Vaughn's room, around the corner at the end of the hall and out of sight.
But once I was there, I could feel the bravery draining out of me. What the hell am I doing, am I crazy?!
I stood outside his door, glued in place. I can't do this. I can't! I shouldn't! But oh, how I wanted to. I wanted him so badly that my whole body vibrated with need at the mere thought of him even just kissing me again. Touching me again. Even just for a moment.
I yelped as the door swung open, and there he was, shirtless, his sweatpants sitting low on his hips. The man was sculpted out of stone. His chest was decorated with tattoos and one old but nasty-looking scar on his side, but none of it could cover up the lines of those thick muscles. I stared - and I stared - and I swallowed once, hard.
"What did I say?" he asked, leaning casually against the doorframe.
My mind was made up. Very deliberately, staring him straight in the eyes, I lifted one fist and knocked on the door.
“I have one, too,” I said softly when he closed the door behind me.
“One what?”
I reached out and traced his scar, gently, with just my fingertips. “Right here,�
�� I said, lifting my shirt and pointing out my own. It was barely visible anymore, and I’d gone through a lot of trouble to make it that way. It still took a lot of makeup to cover up for photo shoots and the like, though.
He traced it with his fingers as I’d done with his. “How?” he asked.
“You really don’t know? The papers still bring it up all the time.”
“I don’t read the tabloids.”
I hadn’t meant to start this off with a conversation about my ex or my past. I hated talking about it. But suddenly, for some reason, I wanted Vaughn to know. “Years ago when I broke up with my ex - Camden, you met him - he was… not happy about my decision.”
Vaughn tensed. “He did this?”
“In a way. We were still working in the same circles so he was giving me a lift to the recording studio. It turned into a shouting match, and it ended with him deliberately crashing the car.”
Vaughn exhaled slowly, cursing under his breath.
“So. Yeah. I’ve been doing my best to avoid him ever since. He seems more stable now but I know that’s only on the surface. I just know.” I blew out a breath. “What about yours?” I asked, touching his side again.
He drew me closer. “Karmic retribution,” he said. When I blinked in confusion, he said, “I was deployed not to long ago. Veteran, remember?” I didn’t remember. Lexi must have told me and it went in one ear and out the other. But I nodded. His grip on my waist tightened so suddenly that I gasped. “Did you come down here to compare battle scars, or did you have something else in mind?”
“Nothing in particular,” I said, playing coy. He nibbled on my ear.
“That’s good,” he said, “Because I’ve got lots of things in mind. More things than we’ll have time for.”
I shivered. “Like what?”
He kissed me instead of answering. It was slow, and tender, like he had all the time in the world. Warmth washed over me as his tongue rubbed against mine. I whined when he broke away and stepped back.
"Take off your clothes." If there's a sentence that causes more instant arousal than that, I don't know it. Especially uttered in his gruff and husky voice. I pulled my jeans down first, tugging them below my ass slowly before kicking them away. Then came my soft t-shirt shirt, all dropped at my feet. Goosebumps rose along my arms, and my nipples hardened beneath my bra. What is he going to do with me now?
He stepped around and stood in front of me. His eyes were dark with heat and lust as he looked me up and down. "Underwear, too."
I felt so exposed already, but I wanted to please him. So I did. With trembling hands, I unclasped my bra. The material teased my sensitive nipples as it fell away. Then finally my panties, now damp with the evidence of what he was doing to me.
"Perfect." He walked a circle around me. "Beautiful. Go lie on the bed, on your back."
“What are you going to do?” I asked, suspicious. After all that talk about tying me up, was it going to happen?
“Just trust me.”
I did. I trusted him. I could feel his eyes watching my ass as I walked over to the bed. My mind whirled with possibilities as I stretched out as he instructed - on my back, facing the ceiling.
“Do you know what a safeword is, honey?” he asked. Gently, he took one of my ankles in his hand and massaged it.
“I do,” I said hesitantly. Suddenly I was a little unsure. I liked the idea of being bound - or at least, I was eager to try it and see how much I liked it - but if he was planning on hurting me…
He chuckled. “Don’t worry. I’m not a whips-and-chains dungeon sort of guy.”
“Good,” I said, releasing the breath I held. Soft cloth touched my bare ankle. He wrapped the material around it twice, then secured it to the bed frame. My heart pounded in my ears.
“This can still be really intense, though, so we’ll use a safeword anyway. ‘Red,’ to keep it simple.”
“Red,” I said, “I can remember that.”
“Good.” He tied my other ankle, tugging it towards the other corner of the bed. I was wide open, now. As exposed as could be. He could see every blessed inch of my pussy if he were so inclined.
He was silent and still for a moment. I leaned up and saw him watching me, rapt. “You’re so sexy onstage,” he said, “And you know it. But this… bound like this…” His eyes roamed by body and he groaned. “You’re perfect.”
I tugged at my restraints. There was very little give. “What next?” I whispered.
He bound my arms next, similarly spread out and above my head. At least whatever material he was using was soft - I tugged and twisted, and though it pulled tight, it didn’t chafe.
“Okay so far?” he asked. I nodded.
Then he blindfolded me. “Is this really necessary?” I asked.
“Mmhmm,” he said, “I think you’ll really like it.”
“You’ll take it off if I say the safeword?”
“Instantly,” he assured me.
Goosebumps rose on my arms and my breasts as he circled the bed. Every inch of my skin was on high alert, waiting for his touch, both yearning for it and a little bit afraid. I tugged against the restraints again.
His knuckles brushed my cheek. I smiled. “I’m glad you decided to try this out,” he said. “A lot of people are too afraid, or have too many hangups.”
“I liked what you did to me before,” I said, “A lot. All of it.”
His hands moved lower, tracing down my sternum, down to the underside of my breasts. His fingers caressed me in soft circles, pressing gently into my flesh as they made their way to my nipples. I felt them tighten as he trailed his warm touch closer and closer, and when he brushed them, a sharp spike of arousal made me gasp.
He gave a low, sexy chuckle. “So sensitive,” he said.
His mouth was on mine suddenly, and the effect was electric. The unexpected contact made me yelp - being blindfolded, I was guessing every second at what he might do, and it had me tingling all over.
I sank into his kiss right away as I was enveloped by his heat. Pure animal instinct made the moan rise in my throat, made me want to wrap my arms around him. But I couldn’t. I was caught, bound, at his mercy. It was driving me wild.
One of his hands snaked up and cupped my chin. Slowly, he angled my head and deepened his kiss. I whined, feeling overwhelmed, but he showed no sign of stopping. His lips parted and his tongue slicked across my bottom lip. He grunted hungrily and tasted me again, as if I was something delicious he couldn’t get enough of; as if I were a drug that he craved with his whole being.
It felt so good, I could barely stand it. I writhed against the mattress, and he thrust his tongue inside my mouth and slid it against mine. Desire raged through my veins, stormed at my center.
I moaned his name out loud when he broke away, the sound of it filling the air around us, “Vaughn, ah-” He kissed his way across the tops of my breasts, leaving a hot trail behind. He brushed my nipples with his thumbs gently as he kissed and sucked his way around. He took his time, moving with a deliberate slowness, continuing to stoke the firestorm inside me. I’d never felt anything quite like it. Never had I been with someone who kissed with such intent and such focus.
When he reached one of my nipples, when his tongue swirled around it before he sucked it into the heat of his mouth, I couldn’t hold back the moan that rose to my throat. I wasn’t sure I liked this version of myself - so wanton, teetering just on the edge of losing control - but it sure as hell felt amazing.
He worshiped my breasts with his mouth and his hands. I never knew what was coming, where he’d touch, or with what. He bit down on one nipple until I yelped, then soothed it with his tongue. He brushed the other with a feather-light touch. His soft touches combined with the rough treatment of his mouth created a sizzling burn of sexual desire inside of me. Not that I hadn’t been turned on already - I was aroused before I even knocked on his door. But now I was on fire.
Never had I felt such a hunger. My inner walls throbbed insist
ently, desperate to be filled; if he didn’t fuck me soon I was going to lose my mind.
“Please, sir…”
“Not yet,” Vaughn whispered as if he read my mind and what I was gearing up to beg for. “Not until I say.”
I’m completely in his power, I realized. I couldn’t do a damn thing - he controlled my pleasure, how much he gave and what he took from me. I got it - I finally got it. Why this was so heady and so hot. Trembling, relaxing in my restraints, I gave myself to him and sank into a state of lightheaded bliss.
“Good girl,” he grated, noting the change. Noting my total submission. He drew a finger through my wetness, making me jump at the surprise contact. He teased my entrance, circling, just touching, and I bit my lip against the begging that threatened to pour out.