Chapter 10 Rosalie
Rosalie
Boy, when Dolly decided to let loose, she didn’t go by half-measures.
I was happy to let her try on some of my clothes, and the dark green Victorian dress was a little big on her, but she still looked startlingly gothic.
Looking critically at herself in the mirror, Dolly tied back her hair and left two long dramatic pieces in front.
“I feel alive!” she cried. “Let’s go find a haunted hotel and hunt for ghosts.”
“Baby steps,” I said, “let’s walk to the 45th street city graveyard instead.”
She told me practically her whole life story as we walked over, passing by the Chicago Riverwalk and grabbing some chestnut and lemon doughnuts from a street vendor.
It was pretty sad, really. She’d been raised by two domineering parents, who’d put her in harp lessons early and controlled every aspect of her performance style.
“To hell with them,” I said, opening the old lattice-work gate to the graveyard. “Tell them to fuck off and email me if they have a problem with it. You’re a grown, successful adult now. You can do as you please.”
“I will,” she said. “I even,” and her voice dropped as her cheeks turned pink, “had a little bit of Kingsley’s alcohol before we came over.”
And it seemed she was so inspired by her first shot of whiskey that at the sight of Hiram Ebenezer’s gravestone (b 1829- d 1943) she took bold action.
“Devoted father, loving husband, and horse racing enthusiast!” she cried angrily, pointing at the little emblem of a whip. “Mistreat those poor horses? How dare you!”
She began to wrestle off the decorative top of the gravestone.
“I agree with your sentiment, but the security guard might not,” I warned her.
Then I leaned back against the fence and stretched out my legs, sipping my latte while I waited for further developments.
Dolly was really determined, managing to knock the crumbing top over until it shattered into huge chunks on the ground.
It was then that the security guard took notice, and it wasn’t long before several of them, plus a policeman, strongly objected to this treatment of Hiram Ebenezer’s resting place.
“I am Kingsley Ames’ girlfriend,” Dolly slurred indignantly. “He could buy your whole town probably.”
Cornelius was going to absolutely hate this.
Good.
There was already a healthy amount of paparazzi as the police made enquiries, and Cornelius himself appeared just as they brought out cuffs.
“Oh, no, these headlines aren’t going to be very good for your client,” I said as Dolly stalked around the other gravestones, reading the inscriptions aloud. “Disturbing the peace, destruction of city property, general hooliganism.”
“This is all your fault,” Cornelius hissed. “Dolly was a nice sweet girl before she met you! Now two days after meeting you, she’s getting arrested. What’ve you done to her?”
“I did nothing,” I shrugged. “I guess Dolly isn’t interested in being your perfect little PR puppet. This is the end result of trying to domesticate Kingsley Ames.”
And just then, the devil himself appeared.
You could hear the collective intake of breath as Kingsley emerged from his sports car, putting on his sunglasses as he stretched his tall frame to its full height. With Kingsley, every step was sex, power, a magnetic pull toward him.
“What’s going on here?” he called in his deep voice, his eyes zeroing in on where a policeman stood in front of me with cuffs.
“Sir, if you would, this gravestone is over a hundred years old,” one of the security guards said disapprovingly.
Kingsley waved his hand impatiently. “I’ll pay for it. I’ll pay for renovating this whole place. Step away from Rosalie with those cuffs.”
“Try to remember,” Cornelius moaned in agony, “That you are dating Dolly.”
“What are you doing, idiot?” was all he said to her, holding out his hand to help me up.
For a second his broad shoulders blotted out the sun, and I was forced to look up at him.
“Kingsley, she is being a very bad example,” Cornelius hissed. “This doesn’t look good for your reputation!”
“I don’t care,” he said. “Rosalie can do whatever the hell she wants, and I’ll always be there to bail her out.”
Something turned over deep in my belly at the expression on his face, the way his fingers wrapped around mine, but I declined to be charmed.
His charm worked very well on all the security guards though, as well as his promise of a substantial payment for maintenance of the entire property, and free tickets to his upcoming show, and the guards waved off the police.
“Thank you, Mr. Ames. You’re too good to us, sir.”
Then Matt arrived and we all piled into his Range Rover and left Cornelius to deal with the fine print.
“That’s what I pay him for,” Kings said shortly.
His body felt unbearably hot, his long thigh warm against mine, but I ignored the heat that flared in my belly. I was not going to fall into the same patterns again or believe his promises that someday things would be different.
When we arrived at the steakhouse for lunch, Kingsley pulled on my arm to try to slide me into the booth next to him, but I slipped out of his grip and sat down by Matt instead, deliberately resting my hand on his thick thigh.
I could tell Kingsley was trying to play it cool, but I knew this asshole.
And I could tell he was pissed.
Good.
He wasn’t going to get off easily. And not with me.
“So, here we are,” I said, snuggling into Matt’s side. “So let’s hear about your love story again.”
Kingsley had his lips pressed together and was glaring at me.
Dolly didn’t seem to care much, looking at me with eyes shining.
“Is it true you’re banned in France?”
“Yeah—” Kingsley said, cutting in. “That was on our very first tour and I dared her to go past the barrier around the Mona Lisa.”
He cocked his head as if daring me to not talk about our first tour. Or our next tour. The one to Botswana. The one to Italy when we’d taken a boat around Venice. Singing in the Alps. Hiking up the Canadian Rockies. Through the rainforest in Peru. He was daring me to deny our shared history.
And we had a lot of it.
Entwined, entangled, inseparable. Riffing and joking and shit-talking each other from one continent to the next while we fucked like bunnies at night. But I was always in the darkness. I wanted to be the girl who got taken out into the light.
And I was done waiting.
Every time poor Dolly tried to talk about something, even answer Matt’s polite questions about how long she’d played the harp, etc. etc., Kingsley had to break in with some story from when we were in college together.
That first time we’d had a BBQ and set the porch on fire.
Then time we’d been thrown out of a bar because Kingsley took exception to some guy slapping my ass, except he ended up being the bar owner.
Every story was about me. About us.
I was even more sure that Dolly belonged with someone sweet like Matt.
Fans kept breaking in even though Kingsley had security, asking to take a picture, and he was even more of an ass than usual, forgetting to introduce Dolly and instead pointing to me and insisting I get in the picture too.
“Get my collaborator in here, too.”
Collaborator?
Kingsley had never admitted once that he’d had any help rising to superstardom. And that had always been fine with me—we’d always found it funny when people called him “the songwriter of a generation.”
This wasn’t genuine, it must just be an attempt to get me to blow him again, and as such it was not happening.
“Stop trying to piss all over me and mark your territory!” I hissed as Matt pointed out things on the drinks menu for Dolly.
“We have a lot of history together,” Kingsley retorted. “Why shouldn’t I remind people of it?”
“I was in college with Matt, too. We were all friends.”
“It was always Kingsley and Rosalie, though,” he said, his eyes gleaming at me.
“And now it can be Matt and Rosalie.”
He reached under the table and gripped my thigh, dragging me closer so he could trap my leg between his. I could feel him pulsing with passion.
“You think I’ve forgotten about what he did? That he went behind my back and seduced you?”
“Seduced me? Are you the granny in a melodrama? Maybe I seduced him.”
“You did not.”
His fingers spanned my thigh, and I remembered very well what those fingers could do to me, if he chose to exert himself.
“And what is it to you, Kingsley Ames, who I do and don’t have sex with?”
“It’s my business,” he hissed fiercely. “I’m making it only my business. Permanently.”
What was that supposed to mean? I thought, startled.
“So last night must’ve been cool for you,” Kingsley told Matt icily. “You must’ve been pretty pumped, I guess. How long have you had this little crush on her?”
Matt flushed, and I knew Kingsley was taunting him.
But Kingsley’s brown eyes were hard, and I could see his chest rise and fall, that tight T-shirt molded to his chest.
If he didn’t want me to sleep with who I chose, he should’ve done something about it. He was too late.
“Last night was amazing,” I said. “He really worshipped every part of the body, if you know what I mean.”
Kingsley choked on his drink, dribbling a mouthful of beer down the front of his shirt.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he snarled.
I smirked. “I think you know exactly what it means.”
I deliberately crossed my legs and swung my feet up in the air.
“Did you let him suck your goddamn toes?” he hissed, sucking in a furious breath.
“Of course,” I said. “He had my toes in his mouth all night long.”
Kings gripped the table so hard I heard it cracking.
“You goddamn shithead!” he snarled to Matt.
“Bo, what? What? I’m sure she does that with every—"
I felt a whoosh of air under my feet as Kingsley pulled me from my chair, and down the hallway into the shadows, with a strong arm around my waist, pinning me against the cool marble walls.
He was breathing hard, his eyes flaring as he boxed me in.
“What all did he do to you? Whatever he did, I’ll do it better and longer.”
His body was pressed down on mine, his belt buckle digging into my belly. I felt the heated flush of his bare skin on mine as he pulled my shirt up, gripping me hard around the waist.
But fuck this guy.
For years he had run the show and now that he hadn’t had sex with me for like two days he was going to go crazy and act like he wanted more? Nah.
“I don’t even want to tell you what he did. You can’t handle it.”
“What? You mean the toe thing? Just let me. Let me at your toes. You know I’ve always had a thing for your toes, and you’ve never let me at them.”
“The toe thing was a warm-up for him, Kings.”
“What? Did he tie you up? Spank you?”
I snorted, rolling my eyes. “You’re such a fucking amateur.”
His hard cock was digging into my belly.
“What? Took you in the ass?”
He looked so jealous, his eyes dark with arousal, but I only crossed my arms, jabbing my elbows in his gut and attempting to create some space between our bodies.
“As if he could have fit in my asshole.”
“Oh, now you’re going to tell me he’s bigger?”
As a matter of fact, Kingsley was definitely bigger, but I wasn’t about to tell him that.
“Man was fucking hung like a dragon shifter.”
“I think you’re lying to make me jealous.”
I shrugged. “Think what you want.”
“Come on,” he said, his voice low and gravelly, and his arms were around my waist, gripping my hair now, “you and I are the best together. You know that.”
“That’s a nice thing to say when you have a whole girlfriend.”
“Come on, you know that’s just for show.”
“Liar.”
“Yeah, I needed someone like wholesome and sweet for my image. That’s what Cornelius said.”
“You went public with her. You chose her. Now leave me alone.”
“No, it’s you I want!”
Kingsley’s fingers curled in my hair, but I kept my arms crossed and my hands to myself.
“You aren’t fucking charming me with your dick this time. Not happening.”
“I’ve never told you this, but you’ve always been number 1 on the roster, baby. Like I only even called someone else when you weren’t around.”
I rolled my eyes.
“What a compliment.”
“Well?” he said irritably. “That is a compliment. You know I can have anyone I want. And a girl from St. Josephine’s College For the Liberal Arts is still the top contact on my roster.”
I ran my hand down his belly to his cock, gripping the hefty base.
“Why? Because you like the way I suck your dick?”
His pupils were blown and I saw his eyelids flicker as he bit down hard on his lip.
“Yes. I like the way you do everything.”
He moved down to kiss me, but I put one hand up to block him.
“Why can’t you go down to the next girl on the roster? I’m not available.”
“There is no replacement for you,” Kingsley groaned as I tightened my grip on his cock. “No one strokes me like you, baby. No one touches me like you, gets me like you. I’m fucking going crazy without you.”
He bit my fingers, flicking his tongue between them, and I felt something pull again, low in my belly, dirty and wrong between my thighs, and I turned away.
“Not buying it. And take me off your roster. I’m not interested in being on it. Either the 1st or the 501st spot. I’m moving on to men wearing their big boy pants. And guess what? Since we’re sharing, I’m going to steal your girlfriend.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? Stop being a fucking brat and come forgive me, and then fuck me, in that order.”
“I think it’s pretty clear what it means. I’m done here.”
He made a low grunt of pain before I tore myself from his arms.
Paparazzi lights flashed through the windows at me as Kingsley chased me back to my seat.
“We aren’t done here,” he growled. “I’m not stopping.”
“Boss, I think you better go,” Jacob advised, and Roberto came up on the other side.
“Next time we’ll have to rent out the whole restaurant. The chefs can’t even cook in there with all that pounding on the window to get to you.”
I saw Dolly cowering at the table blinking her eyes against the flashes while Matt tried to hold up the menus to shield her.
But when he saw me, he leaped up to take my arm.
“Come on, let’s go back to the hotel.”
Kingsley growled low in his throat to see Matt’s hands on me, but I was done waiting for him.
I was off his roster.