by Rae, Rachel
I blushed, embarrassed. “Thank you. I have some work to do but...”
“But nothing, that was perfect.” He looked so yummy standing there that I immediately grabbed him and kissed him. The kiss turned hot really quick and soon after, we were lying naked and sated on the living room rug, breathing heavily. “I don’t know if I'll ever get enough of you, Sweetness. All signs point to no.” He chuckled as he motioned toward his still hard and growing erection.
“I like those odds,” I said as I straddled him, ready for round two, kissing him languidly as I rode him.
I woke up the next morning deliciously sore in Van’s bed, his limbs tangled with mine.
Tatum and I moved into our new apartment on that Saturday morning. When we met up, she was glowing.
“Mmm-hmm. I know what you've been doing for the past few days,” I said nudging her playfully.
“Well, I could say the same thing about you,” she bumped me back.
We walked into the new apartment. The building was huge. I knew Van lied when he said it cost the same amount as our old one. It had to be a lie. This place was insanely beautiful and freaking huge, and I was instantly mad at him. He was not paying for our apartment. No way. He walked in following the movers, which he insisted he pay for… Ass. He was carrying my little reading chair that I had reupholstered. He furrowed his brows as he assessed my mood. He sat the chair down and walked toward me. “What did I do now?”
“I know this apartment costs way more than you said.”
He feigned innocence, looking confused.
“No it doesn’t. Now drop it.”
“No!!” I challenged.
He moved close where our bodies were face to chest.
He looked down at me, his face looking smug as he leaned in close. “Yes. I take care of what's mine. And you, Sweetness, are mine.”
My breath stopped. Mine?
He kissed my forehead reverently, “Yes, Mine. Now, are you going to continue to argue with me, or what?”
“No. I just… I don’t need you to pay my way. I don’t want to be indebted to you.”
“Indebted to me? Seriously?”
“Yes,” I said looking at the floor, my voice small and meek.
“You don’t owe me anything. You don’t have to be with me. I just wanted to take care of you. If you don’t want me to, then I won’t. I'm sorry.” He looked hurt and confused as to why I was being such a bitch, and I instantly felt like an ass, again.
“I'm the sorry one, Van. Thank you.”
He kissed my nose and then my lips sweetly. “You're welcome. Now tell these movers where to put all your crap so you can come to my place, so we can get ready for the Gala tonight.
Oh, shit. The gala. I had taken Tatum with me with Van's urging, and bought a dress from a decently priced store. Some of the stores Tatum tried to drag me into were insane. $80 for a pair of costume earrings? Really?
Trying to be as frugal as I could, I ended up buying a strapless gray bandage dress with a heart neckline, and Tatum made me buy a matching clutch and shoes, as well as jewelry to compliment it all.
Van and I rode to this apartment that afternoon. His hands clasped in mine over my knee as he drew lazy circles with his thumb on the back of my hand. We pulled up to his building and walked in, our hands never breaking contact.
We entered the apartment and he kissed me. “I would say let’s take a shower together, but I'm afraid we don’t have enough time for all the things I'll want to do to you in there,” he said as he nuzzled my neck. “You want to take one in mine first?”
I smiled up at him, “No, thanks. I'll just take on in the guest room.”
I got ready in the guest room. I thought we had about thirty minutes left after I had finished my makeup, so I curled my stick straight hair all around, and it fell down in waves. I put tons of product in to make it stay. I was sure that by the end of the night it will have fallen. After I put on my dress, I painted my fingernails a shiny gray color by O.P.I. I went to put on my adorable peep toe pumps and realized that I was in dire need of a pedicure. My toes had about seven layers of old polish clumped on top and most of that was chipping. I was struggling, with wet fingernails in a very tight dress, to attempt to paint my toes. I was in a very awkward position when Van came into the room. He stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame looking every bit the successful businessman instead of the hot rock star. He wore a black Armani suit that fit him to perfection. His tie was a deep, deep blue and it made his eyes pop. He looked ridiculously sexy. His hair was spiked up just a little, and he was staring at me, intently.
“Need a hand?” he asked, his eyes laughing.
I huffed. “Just trying to paint my toes.”
“Here, let me.” He reached and grabbed the bottle of nail polish, closed the lid tightly and shook it, slapping it against the palm of his hand.
I raised my eyebrows at him as he got down on his knees, raising one up and patting it, motioning for me to place my foot on it.
“What?” he asked. “I have a sister, remember?”
I propped my foot on his knee, and he started slowly painting each toe. Every brush precise and confident. He looked incredibly adorable, and my heart sped up. I was seriously falling for this man. He grinned up at me and closed the bottle once he was done. He caressed my smooth leg and lifted his hand higher under my dress to where my stockings met my garter belt. Tatum insisted that, to use her words, ‘If I were fucking a rock star, I needed to dress like a fucking knockout.’ So she made me buy them, and I had to admit, the way he was staring at me like he was about to devour me, I was instantly grateful for Tatum's sluttiness.
He groaned once his hands reached my lacy panties and the garter belt. “Fuck, Sweetness. What are you trying to do to me?” He rubbed his hands all over my ass and squeezed. “God, I wish I could just skip this thing and stay in bed with you all night. Yep, that’s what I'm going to do,” he said as he stood up and started undoing his tie.
I grabbed his hand to stop him.
“Uh, uh, uh,” I admonished. “We have all night after the Gala. Let's go, Casanova.”
I picked up my shoes and my little clutch and walked past him making sure not to mess up my toes. I turned when I got to the doorway. “Oh, and by the way, I may or may not have a surprise for you when we get back.”
“God, Woman! You're killin’ me!” He laughed as he chased after me. I didn’t get far, wet toes and all. He caught up to me and ran his nose along the crook of my neck, licking my ear. He leaned back and looked me up and down, slowly licking his lips. “You, Sweetness, look fucking unbelievable.”
“You're not so bad yourself, Vance.” I smirked and pecked him on the lips.
“Oh, I like it when you talk all seductive. You're so hot.” He teased.
I slapped his ass. “Ok, hornball, let’s go. We've got a party to attend.”
He kissed me long and hard and then helped me slip into my shoes. I dragged him out of the apartment before he could get carried away again.
We got into a BMW where an older gentleman opened the doors for us. Van scooted in close to me and lifted my legs so they rested comfortably on his lap.
“Thank you, James,” he said. My heart immediately stuttered. I hadn’t really thought about James in a while. I missed him still, a little, but being with Van had kind of made me forget all about that bastard.
Van, sensing my tensed expression, rubbed my legs trying to relax me. “You all right?” he asked as the car pulled away from the building.
I smiled over at him, my reverie forgotten. “I'm perfect.”
We pulled up to the Waldorf Astoria on Park Avenue. The line was huge with Limos and town cars to the max. Lights were flashing, and there were passersby watching from all sides. We pulled up to the entrance to the red carpet, and Van turned to me. “Ok, baby. We're here. Don't look directly at the flashing lights. I'm going to have to stop and talk to a lot, and I mean a lot, of people. Are you sure you're up for this?�
� He asked, concerned.
I looked at the huge crowd blocked off by security and the enormous red carpet full of celebrities and reporters and paparazzi, and my stomach was in knots.
James still fresh on my mind, I started to reevaluate us.
What was I doing? What? Was I just going to be his arm candy until he found some groupie or hottie? He was going on tour soon… and then what? I had a career to think about.
But when I looked over at a worried Van, my fears vanished. I wanted to believe him. I wanted to see where this went. I wanted to be his.
I nodded and swallowed hard. I could do this. I liked being under the radar, but if I wanted to see where this would go with this beautiful man, I would have to be pushed into the spotlight.
“I'm ready.”
He kissed me on my forehead and grabbed my chin, looking me in the eyes attentively.
“I think I'm falling for you, Sweetness. You're unlike anyone I've ever met.” He kissed me sweetly and then opened the door. He stepped out and held a hand out to me. I took it and then the real craziness began. It was so loud and the lights were blinding. We walked along the red carpet, and Van stopped to take photos as we did. I tried to step out of the way when they asked Van to pose alone. He grabbed me around the waist and politely told them, “I'm here with my breathtaking date. She goes where I go.” He winked and smiled, and the women and even some men, swooned.
We followed the carpet until we were ushered inside. The Waldorf Astoria was the place of my dreams. It was so exquisite and fine.
We entered the grand ballroom and into a land of wonder. The theme for the night was Storybook Dreams for Van's charity, Whitaker's Whimsical Wishes. I was in awe as caterers and waiters alike were all dressed in the finest costumes. There were giants, ogres, fairies, witches and princesses, all milling about talking to tons of children dressed to the nines who were the guests of honor.
Van introduced me to several prestigious people, some of whom I had seen in gossip magazines and on television. It was very surreal. As I appraised the room, Van guy-hugged someone I couldn’t see on the other side of him. When Van turned to me, I saw a familiar Mohawk and that sexy face from Sloan's party that Tatum had been shamelessly flirting with. Van introduced me to Jensen. With all his piercings and tattoos and that foot high Mohawk, he looked out of place, but then I looked at his outfit and realized that only a guy this hot could pull off all that and a red suit with satin black lapels. He looked extremely Rock n Roll, but he had the kindest face I had ever seen. I instantly liked him. “Jensen, this is Tinley Michaels.”
“It's nice to meet you, Jensen,” I said and stuck out my hand in offering. He pulled me into a tight and family kind of hug, and whispered in my ear, “I don’t know what you're doing to him, but keep it up. I haven’t seen him this happy in a very long time.” He pulled away smiling at me, and I stood there shocked.
I couldn’t do anything, but give him a small smile. Was Van happier because of me? This was all happening much too fast. I mean, I met the guy a week ago and here we were… and shit was getting all kinds of serious.
I tried to quiet my mind and just enjoy the party. Van walked us over to an older man. When he turned around, he was Van twenty years from now. He was gorgeous. He had Van’s dark hair, although, his was graying a bit at the temples. He had the same mesmerizing gray eyes, and I could see under his designer suit that he had a very nice body.
Well, if this was any indication, Van should age extremely well.
“Dad,” Van said as his father ended his conversation with Donald Trump.
Really? The Donald? This was too unreal.
“Dad, this is Tinley Michaels. My girlfriend.”
Shit! Girlfriend. Ok this was not going to slow down. We were just going full steam ahead until we hit an iceberg. I was sure I would end up the Jack Dawson, floating at the bottom of the ocean in this situation.
Van’s father looked at me and then back at his son. He plastered on a fake smile and then extended his hand to me. I took it and shook it gently. “Sam Whitaker. Pleased to meet you, Miss Michaels.”
“You, too, sir.” I smiled.
I could feel the tension radiating off the two men standing before me, and I knew I was not the cause of it.
They had some deep shit that went way back.
Van shook hands with his father and walked with us to sit down for dinner. I almost couldn’t contain my fan-girling when we were seated directly across from The Toni Braxton.
She came over and gave Van a huge hug, and then he turned to me and smiled that sexy grin. “Toni, this is Tinley. She is a big fan of yours.”
I couldn’t move. I was sure I’d stopped breathing. Toni smiled, and her kind big brown eyes met mine. “Tinley. It is so wonderful to meet you.” Her voice was smooth, and I instantly wanted to pull out my iPod and jam to her music. I could barely form a coherent thought let alone speak to one of my favorite artists of all time. She excused herself, and we sat down to eat.
I was overwhelmed by the eclectic group of celebrities, musicians, and New York elite that milled about. I was too nervous to really say much, so I just ate as Van rubbed small comforting circles on my knee under the table. He leaned in smelling like chicken, beer, and just him. “You alright, Sweetness? Are you uncomfortable?”
I shook my head as he kissed below my ear and slowly licked it. I moved my head shyly away from him. He cocked a grin. “I can’t wait until we get home. I’ve got to go on stage in a few, but once I’m done, we can leave.”
His husky voiced laced with promise made my insides flutter.
I nodded, and he kissed my forehead.
“Are you okay here? I have to go warm up with the guys.”
“I’m fine.” I smiled.
Sloan came bounding up with a very tall and lanky nerdy looking guy in a brown suit. Really? A brown suit? I assumed this was her boyfriend.
“Tin!” she shrieked and hugged me. “I’ve missed you! How is the new place?”
“It’s great. We moved in today so I haven’t really gotten to spend time in it.”
“Oh, sorry, Tinley, this is Josh, my boyfriend. Josh, Tinley.”
Josh was looking me up and down from behind Sloan salaciously. He gave me the creeps.
He extended his hand to me, and I obliged by shaking it. He caressed it, and I pulled away slightly so that I didn’t seem too rude.
Creepy Creeper! Sloan was way too good for this dude.
The children were ushered to a special room for only them with an exclusive child pop star who was putting on a private show just for their entertainment, while Van and his band performed for the adults.
I sat back down and played on my phone a bit when I heard the sounds of microphones and footsteps walking onto the stage directly in front of the table where I was sitting.
Van strolled up to the mic and grabbed it as if it were second nature. He had taken off his suit jacket and vest, and his blue tie sat across his shoulders untied. He looked outrageously sexy, like he was ready to head to the bedroom. My tummy flipped thinking about how incredible the past few days had been.
He grinned and looked straight at me. His smile turned seductive as he stared at me.
Then he looked out toward the audience.
“Hey, everyone. Thank you all for being here. I started this charity because it’s very close to my heart. I thank you for all of your support and your donations. The children deserve so much more, but if we can make a tiny piece of their lives happy, then we’ve done our job. Most of you know these guys, but in case you don’t, let me introduce my boys. Over here on Drums we have Chase.” Chase was a very tall, very thin blonde surfer looking guy. His hair was shoulder length and looked way healthier than mine. I immediately wanted to know what kind of products he used to make it so shiny. He had tattoos peeking out of the collar of his dress shirt, and piercings in his eyebrows, lips and ears. He was seriously striking.
After Chase’s little solo, Van’s voice boome
d through the speakers again. “Here on Bass is my boy, Beckett.” Beckett was a whole other breed of man. He had dark olive skin, and his hair was black and it was spiked up like a Jersey shore cast member, but for some reason, it didn’t make him look ridiculous like you would think. His dark eyes were kind and seductive, and his face was flawless. No tattoos anywhere from what I could see. All that made him look like a member of a famous rock band was the ring that went through his impeccably full lips. Beckett did a riff on the bass, and he was amazing.
Once he was finished and the girls stopped screaming, Van introduced Jensen. “And everyone’s favorite, Jensen.” Jensen, still in his red suit jacket with his twelve-inch Mohawk played a riff on his guitar, and then they all joined in on a pretty upbeat song.
The minute Van’s voice carried through the speakers and into my ears, I melted. I watched him interact with the crowd, and every few seconds, he would look over at me and sing it even more sensually than I’m sure it was intended. He sang about a girl moving her body and how she was the hottest thing ever and he licked his lips as he sang it to me. I was suddenly very hot in my strapless dress. They sang a few more songs, and I was glued to my seat, my eyes never leaving his perfect form.
He thanked everyone, and he and his dad did a little mingling while Van signed some autographs and posed for some photos with fans as I stood off to the side. It was very strange to see Van in his element. He was so confident and suave. It was amazing to know both sides to him. I liked the Van without all the glitz and glamour more, though. He was so genuine, and in that moment, I couldn’t wait to get back to his place. I wanted nothing more than to lie in bed for the next day and just be with this man that was making me swoon every time he was near me. Goodness, I sounded like the girls in those romance novels that I read constantly.
But this was no novel, this shit was real and the hard, hunk of sexy man that was Van Whitaker wasn’t a fictional boyfriend, he was actually living and breathing, and seemingly, all mine.