23. Ana
23
Ana
I hadn’t expected Charlie to insist I come to his rehearsal, especially when I knew he needed to focus. But, as usual, he got his way. “I can’t be away from you right now,” he said, his voice so sweetly vulnerable that I didn’t have the heart to argue. Not just that, but I didn’t want to be away from him either. So here I was, standing just inside the doors of a huge rehearsal studio.
The room buzzed with energy. Soundproofed walls muted the outside world, while the faint hum of amplifiers and the occasional strum of a guitar filled the air. A sleek, makeshift stage dominated the center of the space, taped-off sections marking where equipment would eventually go. Technicians adjusted cables, bandmates chatted in clusters, and assistants scurried around with tablets and headsets, all seamlessly coordinated like the gears of a finely tuned machine.
This was Charlie’s world.
He was already on the stage, adjusting the mic stand to his height, his inked arms showcased perfectly. His easy confidence drew every eye in the room. His dark T-shirt clung to his back as he moved, the casual way he carried himself so different from one I’d seen so many times before. Unsure of himself. Needing approval. My approval.
I couldn’t stop thinking about last night. I fucked Charlie. Fue asombroso. Mejor de lo que podría haber imaginado . Perfect.
I had to stop thinking about it; heat would rise throughout my body, and watching Charlie in his element made it even harder to ignore.
His team moved like clockwork around him, but he wasn’t watching them—he was watching me.
“Stop staring,” I mouthed at him, unable to stop the smile that crept onto my face.
He grinned, unapologetic, his dimples flashing as he continued to adjust the mic stand. That smile was for me and no one else, and I could feel my cheeks warm under his gaze. He was supposed to be focused, but instead his attention kept drifting towards where I stood.
“Charlie,” a sharp voice called from across the room. “We need to go over the transitions again before the lighting team gets here.”
I turned to see a tall, striking woman walking towards him with a tablet in hand. Her body language and tone screamed authority, and the way she spoke to Charlie, direct and confident, made it clear she was used to running the show. Her name was Kate, the tour manager. Charlie had mentioned her before, but he didn’t talk much about work with me. And now that I was in his element, out of our bubble, it all seemed surreal. I had almost forgotten that he was one of the biggest rockstars in the world.
I watched as Charlie did his thing—testing the mics, singing a certain verse or two—but even as he did, he would keep stealing glances at me, his dimpled grin making my heart flutter each time.
“Charlie,” Kate called him again, this time from the edge of the stage, her voice sharp. “We need to go over the second chorus again. The tempo’s off, and you’re dragging the transition.”
“Got it,” Charlie replied without looking at her. Instead, his eyes drifted towards me and he gave me another one of his disarming grins.
I sighed, the heat rising between thighs as he openly stared at me. I waved him off, mouthing, “Focus!”
Kate frowned, following his gaze. Her expression narrowed as she looked back at her tablet, clearly annoyed. She stepped closer to him, saying something quietly, but even with her standing directly in front of him, Charlie’s attention kept slipping my way.
“You know,” a voice said beside me, cutting through my thoughts. I turned to see Reese standing there, his tablet tucked under his arm and an unmistakable annoyance in his tone. Up close, in this lighting, he was insanely attractive, with dark brown hair and piercing blue eyes, standing at least six inches taller than me. “If you weren’t here, he might actually get something done.”
I blinked, caught off guard. “? Perdón ?” I asked sharply.
“You’re clearly a distraction,” he said dryly. “Kate’s been trying to get him to focus for twenty minutes but he’s too busy vying for your attention.”
I stiffened, anger rising within me. His attractiveness instantly evaporated. “I didn’t exactly ask to come, Reese. You know how Charlie is. I had to be here,” I shot back.
He raised an eyebrow. “ Had to?”
I rolled my eyes, exasperated. “? Lárgate ! I don’t need to explain myself or Charlie, to you—to anyone.”
With that, I turned and walked away, seething. How dare he call me a distraction, as if I were ruining everything. I marched towards the other side of the studio, trying to keep my composure. My presence already felt like too much and Reese’s comments only made it worse.
“Charlie, come on!” Kate’s voice boomed through the studio, but when I turned my head, Charlie wasn’t on the stage. He was heading straight for me, anger radiating off him.
His eyes flicked over my face, softening slightly when he saw my expression. “What happened?”
“Charlie, get back up there,” I said quickly, trying to redirect him. “You need to focus. Maybe I’ll step outside, get some work done—”
“What was that with Reese?” he cut me off, not giving up.
“It was nothing,” I said, trying to wave it off.
“Nothing?” His eyebrows shot up, disbelief and anger flashing in his eyes. “I saw him with his fucking attitude and then you stormed off. What did he say to you?”
I hesitated, glancing around at the growing number of eyes on us. “He just…pointed out that you were distracted,” I said, offering the half-truth. I didn’t want to escalate things further, not when the studio already felt like a pressure cooker.
Charlie’s jaw clenched and without another word, he turned and stormed towards Reese, fury all over his face.
“Reese!” he barked, his voice cutting through the chatter of the room. Everyone froze, the studio falling into silence.
Reese turned, pulling off the headset he had on one ear, his expression a mix of annoyance and confusion. “What now?”
“You’re fired,” Charlie growled, his voice low and seething with anger. “Get the fuck out.”
Reese’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re fucking kidding me,” he said, disbelief turning to anger. “Over what? Over talking to Ana?”
“You upset her, so you’re done,” Charlie snapped. His voice rose as he turned to address the room. “In fact, let me make this clear: if anyone else has anything to say about me and Ana, you can get the fuck out and not come back. Ana is here with me from now on. She’s part of me . So I suggest everyone get the fuck over it and do your jobs.”
The room stayed silent and tense. Reese, however, wasn’t finished.
“You should do your fucking job, Charlie,” he shot back. “Not a single thing has been done since you walked in here. You’ve wasted hours, days, weeks, because you’re too busy obsessing over her to get ready for this tour.”
Charlie took a step closer but Reese wasn’t backing down. “You know what? I’m happy to go,” Reese spat. “Clean this fucking mess up yourself.”
Without waiting for a response, Reese threw his headset onto a table and stormed out, the slam of the studio door echoing through the room.
Charlie stood there, his chest heaving, his face a mask of fury. Slowly, he came back to me, his eyes softening as his shoulders dropped. “You okay?” he asked quietly.
I nodded, though my stomach churned. The room was still silent, everyone pretending to busy themselves, their eyes flicking our way when they thought we wouldn’t notice.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have come,” I whispered.
Charlie shook his head firmly, his gaze intense. “No. You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.”
His words should have reassured me, but as the silence stretched on, Reese’s accusations echoed in my mind. Am I too much of a distraction? Am I dragging Charlie down, hurting his career? The doubt lingered, clawing at me as I tried to push it away.
We stayed for another few hours, the rehearsals resuming as before, as if nothing happened. I found a quiet corner and opened my laptop, determined to take up as little space as possible. I didn’t want to give anyone a reason to whisper about me.
But he didn’t make it easy. Charlie checked on me more often than necessary, his strides purposeful as he crossed the room to where I sat. Each time, I felt the weight of every pair of eyes following him. Yet, instead of feeling annoyed or embarrassed by the attention, an unexpected swell of pride filled my chest.
He wasn’t hiding me, like I was trying to hide myself. If anything, his actions were a declaration. I wasn’t just someone tagging along; I was someone who mattered to him. I mattered to him more than anything: his career, his friends, his staff.
That should have worried me, troubled me…but instead, I let myself bask in the satisfaction it gave me. No one had ever felt this way about me before, and it was intoxicating and thrilling, in the way that only Charlie could make me feel.
It was thrilling and absolutely, completely destructive.
* * *
The next few days were almost identical: hours at the studio where I’d melt every time I heard Charlie’s voice, followed by his constant check-ins, as if I might disappear the moment he looked away. We’d return to the apartment only to obsess over one another, as though we hadn’t just spent the entire day together.
Even after all of this time, my love for him wasn’t waning. If anything, it was growing stronger with each passing day, consuming me in ways I hadn’t known were possible.
But being outside of our bubble every day brought something new into focus. I had to watch Charlie interact with more people—beautiful people, women who smiled too easily or laughed too loudly at his jokes. He paid no attention to them. And yet, the jealousy ignited in me like a spark every time.
I hated the way it made me feel, hated the tightness in my chest, the irrational anger that flared inside of me. I hated who I was in those moments. But at the same time, I couldn’t imagine living any other way.
Loving Charlie was all-consuming, thrilling, and maddening in equal measure.
And I was losing myself. I was acting in ways I didn’t know I was capable of.
We were finally in Madison Square Garden, everything coming into place for the tour. The venue was buzzing with technicians, crew, people scattered about, putting everything into place. Charlie stood near the stage, talking to a woman I didn’t recognize, but the earpiece she had on hinted that she worked for the crew. And she was stunning. She leaned towards him, brushing her hand over his arm as she spoke. He wasn’t flirting but he wasn’t shutting it down either. He looked over at me, oblivious as he gave me a warm smile.
If he’s going to act oblivious, I’ll remind him what he has to lose.
I turned, scanning around until my eyes landed on Trevor. He stood near the other side of the stage, guitar slung over his shoulder, concentrating on tuning it. Charlie hated Trevor for some reason.
Perfect .
I marched over, letting my feet hit the ground hard, knowing what this kind of walk did to men. My breasts bounced, my hips swayed, and I instantly drew Trevor’s attention. He looked up, a grin widening when he saw me. “Ana,” he said with a hint of smugness. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
I smiled, tilting my head. “Just checking in with everyone who’s important.”
Trevor chuckled, clearly eating it up. “You’re too kind,” he said, leaning against the wall. “What can I do for you?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I said, running my fingers lightly over the strap of his guitar. “Maybe you can tell me how you make it all look so effortless, playing this. It’s impressive, really.”
Trevor’s grin widened and he leaned closer, lowering his voice. “Maybe I’ll show you sometime.”
I laughed softly, but before I could respond, I felt it—Charlie’s gaze from across the room. I glanced over, meeting his eyes. His jaw was clenched, his smile gone, replaced by a look that was dark and unmistakably jealous.
It didn’t take long. He strode towards us, his energy radiating pure anger and frustration. Without a word, he grabbed my arm—rough, firm, enough to make a point.
“Excuse us,” Charlie said coldly to Trevor.
Charlie guided us into the backstage area, down the hall, and into his dressing room. The door slammed shut behind us, the energy from the venue fading into the background.
“What the hell was that?” Charlie demanded sharply.
I put my hand on my hip, glaring at him. “What was what ?”
“Don’t fucking do that, Ana,” he snapped. “Flirting with Trevor? Really?”
I scoffed. “Oh, you mean the way you were flirting with that woman? Laughing at everything she said, letting her touch you like she had any right to?”
His brows furrowed, confusion crossing his face before he slightly raised his voice. “I wasn’t flirting, and you know it.”
“And I wasn’t either.” I shot back, my tone mocking.
His jaw clenched and he stepped closer, his eyes narrowing. “What are you doing ?”
I closed the distance between us. “What am I doing? What are you doing? Standing there like some clueless idiota while another woman throws herself at you. Did you even notice me watching? Or were you too busy enjoying the attention?”
He swallowed hard, his gaze flickering with frustration. “I didn’t enjoy it,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I only care about you, mi diosa .” He was turning into the needy, desperate Charlie that I knew so well.
“Do you?” I whispered, stepping even closer until our bodies nearly touched. “Because right now, it doesn’t feel like it.”
I grabbed the front of his shirt, shoving him back against the wall. He let out a small gasp, his hands instinctively gripping my hips, but I slapped them away. “No,” I said firmly. “You don’t get to touch me. Not until I say so.”
His eyes widened, his breathing uneven. “Ana—”
“ Cállate ,” I snapped, my hand sliding down his chest to the waist of his jeans. “You need to remember your place. Do you know what that is, Charlie?”
He shook his head slightly, his lips parting as he struggled for words.
I smirked, my fingers grazing his hard cock beneath his jeans. “Your place is wherever I tell you to be. And right now, it’s beneath me. ? Entiendes ? Do you understand?”
“Yes, mi diosa ” he whispered, his eyes blazing with desire.
I tugged his jeans open. “Good boy. You’re so eager, aren’t you? So desperate to prove yourself.”
His groan was low and rough, his head falling back against the wall as I gripped his cock firmly. “You’re pathetic,” I murmured, my lips brushing his ear. “But at least you know who you belong to.”
“I belong to you,” he rasped, his body trembling beneath my touch.
“ Es cierto ,” I said, pushing him down onto the couch beside the wall. “And I’m going to make sure you never forget it.”
His desperation fueled my control. I peeled off my jeans and underwear and straddled him, sliding onto his hard cock with a sharp gasp as goosebumps pricked my skin. His hands instinctively reached for my thighs but I grabbed his wrists, pulling them away and pressing his arms firmly to his sides.
“You don’t get to touch me,” I said, my voice commanding. “I’m taking what’s mine, Charlie. I’m going to fuck you until I come, and if you’re a good boy for the rest of the day, maybe I’ll let you come tonight.”
Charlie gasped my name, his body trembling beneath me as he surrendered completely. I rolled my hips, chasing my own pleasure, teasing my breasts just inches from his face, knowing it was driving him insane.
Every sound he made, every shudder, only pushed me further. I didn’t know what exactly I was doing. I wanted to test him—test his loyalty, his devotion. I wanted to see how far he’d go for me, to know what he’d endure just to please me. It was reckless, maybe even cruel, and I knew it. But I couldn’t stop myself.
I wasn’t Ana Del Rosario anymore. I was Ana, Charlie’s diosa , the queen of his world.
And I knew neither of us wanted it any other way.
* * *
After Charlie reluctantly returned to the main floor without me, I took a moment to clean up, assuring him I’d only be a few minutes. The room felt quieter without him, but the hum of activity outside still lingered faintly in the background.
My phone vibrated on the end table and I assumed it was Charlie already checking in, asking where I was. But when I picked it up, the screen displayed an unknown number. Beneath it, a text message appeared:
You’re too smart to let this go on. He’s going to ruin you.