I still don’t understand why we had to come here tonight. Why Keith, Henry and I are here, I correct since Gus is home with Naomi and Jasper is home with Viola and his little ones. And now I just insulted our host.
“How about instead of you crawling into a hole you agree to have dinner with me tomorrow evening.”
I blink, slightly stunned.
“I. Um.”
“Cannot accept,” Keith finishes for me, waltzing up to us with a cocky smirk aimed at the man as he slips his hand possessively around my waist.
I’m still kinda PO’d with Keith. He came into my bed the other night, held me while I slept, but was gone before I woke up. Already doing laps in his pool though it was so early the sun was hardly a thought in the pre-dawn sky.
I know why he did it.
Part of me is even grateful he had the foresight.
But you don’t hold someone all night and then duck out on them.
I haven’t said much to him since as a result. Not even when I got my cast off or when he took me out for lunch. We’re leaving for ten days and getting into a big fight about something that should not happen seems ill-timed and futile. We’re tormented with each other, and that can never lead anywhere good.
Going on tour will help.
He’ll be preoccupied with shows and I’ll be running around doing my job and we’ll be in a hotel, separated from each other. And when we come home, I’m moving out.
If I wasn’t sure about that before, I’m positive about it now.
“Yes,” I tell the man, ignoring Keith. “I’m sorry, but I’ll be traveling for work for the next ten days.”
The man does not seem fazed by Keith’s sudden appearance or his hand on my hip. “When you return, perhaps? That is if the band will allow their beautiful assistant out of their sight.”
I blink, slightly stunned. “You knew who I was?”
“Of course.” He laughs. “I make it a point to know all my guests. I’m Jonathan Albright.”
Now my jaw becomes unhinged and I step forward, but I don’t get far as Keith tightens his grip on me. “You’re a director. I love your work. You have such a unique style with scene lighting and camera angles.”
“Thank you,” he says, impressed, his arrogant smile growing. His gaze swiftly shifts to Keith and then back to me with a gleam. “So is that a yes to dinner when you return?”
This guy cannot want to date me. He’s at least twenty-five years older than me. Then again, this is Hollywood. “I—”
“It’s a hard no, Johnny,” Keith cuts in. “Now if you’ll excuse us, I need a word with my assistant.”
Keith drags me away in the rudest manner possible. “It was nice meeting you,” I call out, only I can’t even turn to catch the man’s eyes because Keith is shoving me along at light speed. Some of the champagne in my hand sloshes, spilling over the side, and he takes the glass from my hand, setting it down on a side table. “Quit it,” I bark, smacking at him with my good hand. “That was a seriously shitty thing to do.”
“The hell it was. That man is more than twice your age.”
Keith looks left and then right down a massive hallway and leads me to a closed door. He opens it, peeks inside and practically shoves me in. It’s a bathroom, but it’s easily the size of my old apartment. Before I can continue my yelling, Keith picks me up by my hips and sets me down on the spacious marble counter before stepping back and creating space between us.
I fold my arms over my chest and cross my legs, the silky fabric of my borrowed dress slipping up my thighs a bit.
“What do you think you’re doing? You had no right barging in like that and dragging me out like I’m some kind of child. I know how to handle myself, Keith.”
“I didn’t like him talking to you. He goes through women like you wouldn’t believe.”
“And you don’t?”
I get a hard glare for that comment and shrug my shoulder, still pissed off and wanting him to be equally as pissed.
“So what?” I continue. “Even if he does, that’s my business.”
“You can’t go out with him,” he growls, pinning me with his cold stare as he takes a large step in my direction, crowding me just a bit.
“I can do whatever I want. Go out with whoever I want.”
“No, dammit. You can’t.”
“Says who?” I snap, shoving at his brick wall of a chest so he’ll give me space. Newsflash: it doesn’t work. He just comes in closer. Invading my space because clearly he has zero respect for situational boundaries when it comes to me. “You are the most stubborn, bullheaded, pain in my ass—”
“I think you’re talking about yourself there, darlin’—”
“—Stupid bastard I’ve ever met. Tell me why I can’t date that man,” I demand, so fucking tired of dancing around this.
“Because you belong to me!” he yells, startling me. I frown deep and hard. Even as a warm flutter fills my belly.
“I don’t belong to anyone. No one owns me.” A warning note creeps into my hoarse voice as I say it. Those are the exact words Carvalo said to me when my father essentially sold me to him. No. Not fuckin’ happening.
“That’s not how I meant it. Fuck,” he barks, running his hands through his hair. “You’re the only woman I can’t have and fuck me if that doesn’t make me want you more than anything or anyone else.”
That should be hot to me, but instead it rubs me all kinds of wrong. “I’m not interested in you wanting me simply because you think you can’t have me.”
“That’s not why I want you, Maia. You know that all too well.”
“But you won’t do anything about it.” Isn’t that what he’s telling me? “Maybe I should just fuck Henry then,” I say, my voice sharp like a razor, hoping I cut into him the way he’s cutting into me. Keith growls like a madman, so I must have hit my mark.
“The fuck you should.”
“Why not?” I throw back, ready to shake the man. I’m the one risking everything. How does he not see that? My heart, my job, my financial freedom. Everything. What does he have to lose? Nothing. He wants me. I know he does. And not just because I’m forbidden to him. I refuse to believe that bullshit.
“Because you work for him.”
I roll my eyes at that. Like hard. “Same as I do for you?”
“Yes.” Only he yells it. Screams it. It’s an expletive. A four-letter word.
“You can’t have it both ways. Either you want me, or you don’t. Make up your fucking mind already. I’m sick of you fucking with my head! You slept holding me. You put your fingers inside of me until I came on them. And you haven’t said a word about any of it.”
He runs a hand through his hair again. Across his stubbled jaw. He even kicks the cabinet I’m sitting on. None of that helps. He’s unglued and I think I like him like this. Burning with fury. Desperate with passion. Exploding with barely contained rage.
He’s a jealous, possessive man.
And though I may not want to be owned, I sure as hell want to be consumed.
“What do you want me to say, Maia?”