Breaking All the Rules Read online

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Lora admitted flatly. “But I know better than to stand in your way when you want something.”

  “What is it that I want? Enlighten me.”

  Mia was testy, on edge, and ready to sink her claws into something- anything. Lora knew the mood. She’d been on the other side of her fair share of Mia’s pointless fights. She wasn’t going to sit and subject herself to the abuse, so she stood and stifled out a goodbye before slamming the apartment door behind her. Trying to shake the fire from her eyes, Mia opened her refrigerator and popped open a beer, leaning against her counter as she choked down the drink. With bitter alcohol slowly seeping through her veins, Mia left for the venue.

  The Pluto Lounge was aptly named. The walls were lined with thick black velvet; spare a sprawling galaxy scene that spanned the entirety of one wall of the club. Upon entrance, guests are brought right up into the bar of rich woods and flavorful drinks. A few sparse tables were placed near the door. Mia had spent plenty nights nestled into the worn seats. Past the bar was a large open area that funneled into a stage, built up off the concrete floor. The same black velvet that lined the walls was tethered on the stage. On either side of the room were two V.I.P sections featuring tufted benches and large clothe tables, roped off with a bright purple rope.

  When Mia arrived, the venue was already alive with a Saturday night crowd. Though Burnside wasn’t set to play for another half hour, a health buzz of energy floated around the room as it filled with an eclectic bunch. Light music accompanied the chatter. A quick scanned didn’t reveal anyone she knew, so she approached the bar and ordered her Long Island Ice Tea. She slowly drank it, drifting around the room eager for conversation.

  “You didn’t text me when you got here.”

  Mia smiled and turned to look at Tyler. Dressed in a graphic tee and a black blazer that matched his dark jeans with a scowl on his face, he actually looked like a force to be reckoned with. Good thing I know better than that, Mia grinned. His foot tapped anxiously as he awaited a response.

  “I’m here off the clock, Tyler. I’m going to sit back and watch you guys do what you do best.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” His face bunched up. He ran a hand through his messy locks. “Fuck, I didn’t expect this to be so stressful.”

  Mia reached out and placed a hand on his arm, unconsciously stepping closer, “You got into the business for the girls, booze and parties, right?”

  He tried fighting a smile, but it crept onto the corners of his face, “A little.”

  “Work hard and you’ll get that.”

  Tyler’s lips moved as if he was going to speak, but his face fell into a hard mask, “What the hell is he doing here?”

  Mia closed her eyes as the strong hand slipped around her waist possessively. She pulled away from Tyler and leaned into the gesture, her eyes fluttering upwards at Benson. She swallowed hard and glanced back at Tyler, now unable to read the boy’s expression.

  “I invited him.”

  “I see that, but why? Is it a date?” He spoke through gritted teeth.

  Mia was talking to Tyler, but her eyes were tilted up at Benson. “Mr. Ward is not the type of man to dabble in romance.” She looked back at Tyler. “He’s here because he graciously signed you guys on for his opening night without hearing a single song. I thought he might like a sample of what’s to come.”

  Benson’s words were hot on her ear, “I already had my sample. I want my full serving.”

  Tyler ignored the murmur and flush of Mia’s skin. He found Benson’s gaze and with a tight jaw nodded, “We’ll give you the best damn show of your life, sir.”

  “Save that for opening night, Mr. Abbott,” Benson flashed.

  Tyler stared at the two for a hot beat before turning and disappearing into the crowd. Mia slipped out of the hold Benson had on her and turned to look at him, not prepared for what stared back. For as good as the man looked in a suit, he looked absolutely tantalizing in his black tee that curved around the straining muscles in his neck and pulled tight on the muscles of his arm that she didn’t even know existed and relaxed jeans. The dark watch added to his assertion of power, even in a setting where he was wildly out of place. She licked her lips as her gaze drifted back up to his face. Benson returned the hungry gaze with a cocky grin.

  “I called and reserved one of the V.I.P tables for us,” He announced after a moment, his hand attaching to the small of her back.

  Mia loved the feel of his hand against her as he directed her through the crowd. The pair received stares from men and women alike, some puzzled looks and some laced with envy. Mia was sure Benson was shooting possessive stares at everyone in their path. It was comforting. She’d never been with anyone who exerted so much dominance over her. She had sought it out in partners, enjoying bringing out their deepest darkest fantasies as they had her bound in the bedroom, but they’d never carried it out into the real world. None had cleared paths for her with a possessive glance. In fact, when she was with Aaron, he had tried to lend her to his friends on the week days. He cast no more than a glance over his shoulder as his dirty friends attempted to lure her into their beds.

  “You’re lost again, precious,” Benson said, his voice showing concern as they slid into the booth and nestled into the farthest corner. “Don’t leave me so soon.”

  Mia took a long sip of her drink and set it on the table, “It’s been a weird afternoon.”

  “Oh?” Benson questioned lightly as his arm snaked around her shoulder, bringing her tight against his body. His fingertips were poison. “Let me make your worries disappear, Mia.”

  “Hold on,” She grinned with excitement as Colin Andrews, Burnside’s vocalist, slid onto the stage like it was second nature. His long blonde hair was tied back into a knot and an oversized flannel hung off his body. With one hand firmly grasping a guitar and the other on the microphone, Colin exuded pure rock appeal. That magnetic force is what drew Mia to the band in the first place. Working in the PR department at Monarch Records, she didn’t have much say (if any) in signing bands, but when she saw the band in a tiny venue deep inside the heart of New York while they were touring, she knew they had the magic ‘IT’ factor.

  “Don’t look at him like that,” Benson growled in her ear, his voice silk despite the roar of the band around them.

  “Like what?” She mused, her eyes not leaving the stage as the group played their first song.

  Benson’s strong hand grazed her jaw and directed her eyes to his face, pulled tight with jealousy, “Like you want to fuck him. You haven’t fucked him, have you, Mia?”

  “Business and pleasure,” She reminded him with a cool smile.

  An employee dipped by, dropping off a tall glass full of Jack and Coke. Benson took a drink, and Mia’s eyes watched in amazement as his neck bobbed with a swallow. She wondered how he made her attracted to the simplest things. The man took a drink and she started to get wet. What would she do the next time he touched her?

  She’d soon find out. Benson’s hand moved from her shoulder to her lap. When he rested it on her and felt the heat rising from her throbbing sex, he inhaled sharply, his cock twitching. He pressed through her jeans, welcoming the dampness that seeped through.

  “You look quite handsome tonight,” Mia gasped, her heavy eyes drifting up to catch his gaze. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you frequented these places often.”

  “I told you I own more than suits,” He said, not letting up his deep grind at her clit through her pants.

  “I didn’t know you’d look this good,” She admitted.

  “Would you expect anything less of me, love?”

  Benson Ward was a cocky man, and she was at his will. With his fingers teasing at her she let a simple, “Never” slip through her lips. Mia didn’t flinch as he coyly unbuttoned her jeans and slipped his hand under, expertly finding her slick sex. He inched closer and rested his head against her collarbone, his fingers slowly plunging in a
nd out of her, stopping when he felt her teeter on an orgasm.

  “What do you want from me?” Mia finally managed to ask, her breath hard against him.

  “To touch you like you’ve never been touched. To fuck you like you’ve never been fucked. I want ravage you, and then take you some more. You’re an illness I’m not sure I want to rid myself of, sweet Mia,” Benson admitted honestly.

  “Until you grow tired of me,” She strained.

  His fingers did not stop inside her, “You said yourself earlier, I’m not a man who indulges in romance. I want you, Mia, and I will have you. Over and over again.”

  “What if I want more than an orgasm?”

  “I’ll give you twenty and then we’ll reconsider,” He spoke through his teeth. There was no time like the moment to press against her g-spot, flicking his fingers only a few times before she bit her lip and shuttered into an orgasm. “You know there is something wonderful between us. Don’t think about anything other than letting me please you.”

  She shook with another orgasm, cursing the man for being so skilled with his fingers. Benson nibbled on her ear and continued to speak, his voice hoarse, “We’re in a crowded room, and I’m making you come. Mia, do you know how hard that makes me?”

  Without asking permission, Mia extended a hand and stroked his pulsating cock through his jeans. Benson strained against her, a rough groan tumbling out of his mouth and into the depths of her soul. She couldn’t deny the wonderful whirl of electric sex that coated them. She couldn’t deny the fact that she thought about Benson Ward nearly every second of every day. She couldn’t deny how he gave her orgasms that made her head explode into a thousand colorful pieces of confetti.

  “I need to have you, Mia,” He confessed. “I need to have you, now.”

  She shook her head and sunk into another orgasm, “I’m not leaving until they’re done with their set.”

  Benson shot a look at the stage, then back at Mia. She was flush with passion. Her plump lips were beckoning for his kiss, “I don’t think you understand. I need you now.”

  Defiant, she squeezed his member through his pants, “It’ll be better later. Delayed gratification.”

  Benson’s muscles tightened, “You don’t give the orders.”

  “If you want to have a chance of fucking me, Benson, you’ll wait thirty goddamn minutes. Don’t you see that this is important to me?”

  He’d made her angry. If her furrowed brows and huffs of irritation weren’t enough indication of that, he’d definitely be able to gauge her frustration as she pulled his hand from her pants. He was stronger than her and could’ve fought it. He could’ve held her down and finger fucked her pussy until it was raw. But if she wasn’t fully in the moment, if she didn’t fully enjoy each thrust, it wouldn’t be worth it. His greatest pleasure, he’d recently discovered, was making Mia Barnes convulse under his touch.

  “I’m going to go to the bathroom,” She said abruptly, sitting her now empty glass on the table.

  Benson didn’t say anything. He turned his attention to the stage, his attention on Burnside as she slipped past the purple rope. She saw the thick vein in his neck tense as she left, but he made no movement to follow her or resolve the issue. Mia scowled as she weaved in and out of the crowd. Benson Ward was dense. He was arrogant and self-centered. He was bad news. She thought she’d grown out of her desire for men who were no good for her. You can’t deny there isn’t more between you two. There was something beneath their hot touches and panting breaths. His touch brought more than pleasure. It brought an ache for an embrace. She wanted Benson in more ways than he could eve provide.

  Mia was on her way back to their table when she came face to face with someone she never thought she’d see again- someone who brought her to a skidding halt. Standing in front of her in all his glory was Aaron Hart. His dark hair had grown since she’d last seen him nearly five years prior in a silent hospital room. It now lie in a greasy mess around his face, sculpting his devilishly handsome features. Aaron’s eyes were black. Mia wondered if it was from a lethal mix of booze and drugs or if they were naturally that color. She’d never seen him clean. He was toxic, so very toxic. His presence made her skin crawl and her heart slow.

  “Fancy meeting you here,” He grinned, as if he hadn’t bruised her like fruit. “Been a while, huh?”

  “A couple years,” Mia strained, her voice not her own.

  Aaron chugged his drink and dropped it on the tray of a waitress passing by, and then wrapped his fingers around her arm. They felt like slime against her skin. Mia was frozen. She couldn’t move from him. She couldn’t stop staring at the man who had simultaneously introduced her to the music industry and carved deep cracks into her heart.

  “You’ve gotten sexier,” Aaron mused, licking his lips.

  “You’d be amazed at what happens when you stop associating with toxic people.”

  “Was I toxic, Mia?” His voice was rough. Too rough. She didn’t want to feel his breath, heavy with the scent of cheap beer and even cheaper weed.

  “You are toxic, Aaron,” Mia struggled against him, pushing him back. She pushed him directly into the brooding chest of Benson Ward.

  Benson’s jaw was clenched as his eyes darted from Mia to the dirty sac wobbling to regain his composure between them. The man reached out for Mia, who slinked away. Normally cool and composed, Mia was now a mouse. Her arms were crossed tightly in front of her and her eyes pleaded with Benson for something. He grabbed the extended arm of the stranger, whirling him around to face Benson. Benson stood inches taller, wider, than the scrawny man clad in leather who reeked of bad intentions.

  “Is something wrong, Mia?” His nostrils flared with each syllable.

  “Get yourself an All-American?” The stranger smirked at Mia. “I never did peg you as the rock and roll type, Mia.”

  She knew this guy? Of course she did. It was obvious from the way she sunk away, her eyes shifting under his watch as if she was crawling in her own skin. This man had done more than approach her in a bar. He had hurt her, and Benson didn’t take well to his things being damaged. He caught Mia’s eye as his fist formed and raised. She shook her head from side to side, “Benson, don’t!”

  “He even sounds like an Ivy League trust fund piece of shit,” The stranger snarled. “Seriously, Mia. I’ve told you before; you’ll never be more than a glorified groupie. Save yourself the trouble, dude. She’s used.”

  Benson was going to knock the teeth out of the man. Nobody talked about him like that. Nobody talked about Mia like that. But her eyes, God, her eyes. They pleaded with him to stop.

  “Let’s go home, Benson,” She begged, her voice finally loud enough for him to hear her. She sounded broken, on the verge of tears. Benson wasn’t sure if he’d ever been so angry in his life. His blood boiled and he saw white. Suddenly everything became a little too real. Mia wasn’t a sultry temptress. He had tried for nearly a week to pretend like she wasn’t a real person. But her hands tugging him desperately, her short words laced with fear and embarrassment, he could see that she was very real. “Please, Benson. Please.”

  He released his fists, directing his eyes at the woman next to him with smudged makeup. It took everything in him not to kill the scum next to them. He pulled her out of the lounge, trying hard not to be too rough with her delicate skin. The cool fall night was refreshing, a nice escape from the breathless heat trapped inside the tiny club. Mia clung to his side like she’d just run into the Grim Reaper himself. A quick tap on the screen of his phone and his limo was in front of them. Before he could step forward to open the door for them, his driver was upon them doing the task himself.

  “We’ll be going to Mia’s,” Benson nodded at the man. When she began to tell him her address, Benson cut her off. “He already knows.”

  “Why does he already know where I live?” She questioned, her voice trying to be hard and demanding. She pressed her hands into the leather beneath her, scooting far away from Benson.

/>   “I was just making sure you got home safely this week,” Benson admitted as he mocked her motions. “I’m glad I did. What if you would’ve seen that guy on the street?”

  “I’m capable of handling myself,” She stated, regaining her strength.

  “It didn’t look that way,” Benson gruffly crossed his arms, not wanting to know but dying for answers. “Who was that?”

  “Bad news,” Mia said simply.

  “Obviously.”

  “I don’t want to talk about my past, Benson. I was barely alive when I got to New York, and Aaron took advantage of that. It’s done and over with.”

  In a swift motion, she was on top of him, her legs pressed on either side of his big frame as he straddled him. Benson let out a tense sigh under her touch. She was warm and soft, a deadly combination. His cock grew in his pants as she nestled into him, her locked around him with her lips on the bare skin of his neck. She left a soft kiss and drew back, looking at him with water filled eyes.

  “I can still feel his eyes on me.”

  Benson’s jaw tightened, “He hurt you.”

  “Make me forget him, Benson, please,” Her voice cracked. “I need you.”

  Just as swiftly as he groaned, his hands were in her pants. Mia didn’t want him, she needed him. She was vulnerable. He felt if he touched her too hard she might shatter into a thousand pieces, but if he didn’t touch her hard enough she’d seek pleasure elsewhere. He was desperate to keep her, even if just for the night. He was going to make her feel better the only way he knew how- with mind blowing sex.

  She leaned back as his spare hand pulled her shirt up exposing a dark purple lacy bralette. Her ample breasts were tender, aching for his touch, her nipples already hard awaiting his touch. Quickly, he pulled down the lacy material, freeing one plump breast. Her skin was milky white, her areola a delicious pink that made him want to throw her down and drive his cock deep inside her. Benson twirled the hard nub in his finger for just a moment before he took it in his mouth. Mia moaned as she looked down at him. She was a vixen. Her hair had been expertly placed on the top of her head moments ago, but was in a limp ball near her neck. Her face was a mix of sadness and pleasure, and Benson couldn’t put a finger on how he felt seeing her makeup smudged while her lips were full from arousal.