Chapter 6 #2
He calls out to the singers. They file out, leaving only Rose.
Travis goes in and stands next to her. She’s beautiful, with long black hair and perfect white skin.
She looks like a doll, with her sparkling blue eyes.
It’s clear that she is nervous, she seems less into it than the other singers and scared to let herself come right out of her shell.
“You want to be a singer?” Travis asks her.
She nods, swallowing.
“Are you nervous?”
She exhales. “I feel like I get drowned out by the others and so I make my voice small, because they’re just so good...”
“Can I tell you something?”
“Yes.”
“You outshine them. I say that not to bring them down, they are incredible, but you, Rose, are the star. I know it, you just have to let yourself go. So, we’re going to sing together, and you’re going to pretend nobody else is here and show me what you’ve really got.”
She flushes as he cues the music. He starts singing, light and compelling, and my heart does backflips.
Rose joins him, her voice pure. It takes her a moment to let go, but when she does, her voice brings the whole room to a complete pause.
She is incredible. Together, they blend perfectly. When they finish, everyone is silent.
“Wow,” I whisper.
Then everyone erupts into applause. Rose flushes and hugs Travis, and when he comes back, he is grinning. “See that, that’s why I do it.”
“She is incredible,” I breathe. “Oh, wow.”
After half an hour of getting her singing with the other girls, Travis steals me away and leads me to his office. We walk in, and I look around at the sleek black desk dominating the center of the room. Platinum records line the walls between framed vintage concert posters.
A worn leather jacket hangs on a stand in the corner, and a collection of guitar picks in a glass bowl catches the light from the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city.
Everything speaks of power and success, yet the small touches—a dog-eared paperback on the side table, a faded baseball cap on the coat rack—reveal glimpses of the boy I once knew.
“Ready for your surprise?” he asks, and I turn to face him.
“I don’t know, am I?”
He grins, closing the distance between us. His lips find mine, slow at first, then deep and insistent until my pulse throbs in my ears. I pull back, breathless.
“Now that that’s out of the way,” he murmurs, “the surprise.”
“Oh, that wasn’t it?”
He chuckles and takes my hand, leading me over to the desk and pulling me down onto his lap.
My heart skips a beat. He opens his computer and types my name into Google—nothing.
I’m quite sure if someone went digging, they could find it, but for now my name is no longer plastered all over the internet. “How?” I gasp.
“I’m a rich man with a lot of connections, I can make almost anything go away.”
“You did that for me?”
“Yeah, I know what your privacy means to you, kid.”
He spins me around so I’m straddling him, our eyes locked.
“Now, about the other thing...”
“The other thing?” I whisper, my heart pounding against my ribs.
“Yeah, leaving you all hot and bothered.”
“Oh...”
His hands find the buttons of my blouse, and he works them open one by one. Our eyes lock—his dark with desire, mine wide with anticipation. When the last button gives way, he traces a finger down my exposed skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.
"I've thought about this for so long," he growls, voice rough with emotion. "About you."
My back meets the cool surface of his desk, papers scattering. His mouth finds my neck, my collarbone, the swell of my breast. Each kiss burns hotter than the last. I arch into him, fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer.
"Travis," I breathe, my voice hardly recognizable.
His hands slide up my thighs, bunching my skirt at my waist. The heat between us builds as his fingers hook into my panties, dragging them down with agonizing slowness. When they finally drop to the floor, he looks at me like I'm everything he's ever wanted.
"Spread your legs for me," he growls, but there's vulnerability beneath the command.
I comply, heart hammering against my ribs.
He kneels before me, pressing his lips to my inner thigh.
The first touch of his tongue against my center sends electricity coursing through me.
I cry out, clutching the edge of the desk as he explores me with devastating precision.
His tongue flicks over my clit, tracing little circles, sucking it between his lips, and completely destroying me.
"Please," I gasp when he pulls back slightly, my body aching for release.
“Fuck, you taste so fuckin’ sweet.”
When he returns to me, it's with renewed hunger.
His fingers join his mouth, stroking inside me until I'm writhing beneath him.
The tension builds, coils tighter, until finally it shatters.
I call his name as waves of pleasure crash through me, leaving me trembling in their wake.
He rises, cradling my face in his hands, kissing me deeply.
I taste myself on his lips and when he growls with hunger, it is almost my undoing.
His phone rings, shattering the moment. With a frustrated sigh, he takes it, pacing the room for a minute, clearly wound up, his cock hard in his pants.
He drops into his office chair and continues the call, his eyes on me as I sit on the desk, still bare.
He looks desperate, like he might take me at any moment.
As he speaks in clipped, professional tones, our eyes lock.
A wicked impulse seizes me. I slide from the desk, my legs still trembling, and kneel between his parted thighs.
His eyes widen as my fingers work his belt open.
I have never been so bold, but the desire running through my veins is so intense I just know I have to have him.
"Yes, I understand the timeline," he says, voice suddenly strained as I free him, taking his cock into my hand.
The thick, long length is as beautiful as he is, and my heart skips a beat as I lower my mouth, closing it over the tip.
His free hand tangles in my hair, not stopping me but holding on like I'm his anchor in a storm.
"I—I’ll need to circle back on that point," he manages, struggling to maintain composure as I take him deeper, my head bobbing up and down as I suck him with everything I have.
His voice grows increasingly ragged with each question he answers, each involuntary twitch betraying his pleasure.
When I glance up, his eyes are dark with a hunger that makes my own desire flare anew.
"We'll continue this Monday," he finally rasps, ending the call just as a groan escapes him. "Violet," he breathes, both warning and worship in my name as he surrenders completely.
He finds his release, his body shuddering as he cums in my mouth.
I take it all, my skin prickling with the thrill of it all.
When I’m done, I look up at him through my lashes, smiling.
“You bad, bad girl,” he growls. “You’ll be the death of me.”
I get to my feet, straightening my skirt. “Maybe that’s the entire point.”
He laughs. “Come on, there is more I want to show you.”
And I am more than happy to oblige.
It might be dangerous, risky even, but this is the happiest I have felt in so long, I’m afraid it might just be real.