Bach

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I had to talk to Amina.

That was my sole, all-consuming thought as I surfaced in the pool. But as I swam to the ladder, I noticed someone was here, waiting and ready to slow me down. “Violet,” I said, climbing out of the pool. “I’m guessing you’re here to find out the names of everyone who contacted me last night because of our new star. It’ll take me a bit to send you the list, but what a problem to have, huh?”

She was standing by the towels. I held out my hand, but she didn't pass one to me.

“What the hell were you thinking?” she asked.

I screwed up my face. “About?”

“You swore you'd put this company first, Bach!”

Ah, shit. “Violet, let me explain.”

Her eyes shot to the ceiling, as if looking at me was too difficult. “I knew I shouldn't have let you go off alone with her. You're so predictable! Two days, Bach! That was all you managed before you went and fucked her!”

Heat slid into my guts, then through my muscles. I clenched a fist; water dribbled from it to the floor. “Listen.”

“You're going to tell me that this won't mess up our plans, hmm? Does she think she'll get special treatment because your dick was in her? Or does she know your go-to method is to pump and dump the girls you—”

“Violet!” I roared, burying my fingers in my own hair. “Jesus, fuck! Listen to me for one second! Amina isn't like the other times because... because she just isn't.” My voice became soft and serious. “This isn't what you think.”

“Then what was it?”

I hesitated, not sure I could put my thoughts into words. “I promise this won't interfere with our plans. I can separate business from pleasure.”

Violet crossed her arms tight over her chest. I waited for her to argue, because it's what she would normally do. Instead, she ripped a towel from the rack and threw it at me. “Keep your promise this time. Okay?”

It was a relief to smile again. “Okay.”

“Sleeping with your starlet is not a good look,” she reminded me. “We need new blood at this company, and if they think they're expected to screw you...”

“They'll be even more eager to sign?”

She rolled her eyes. “The other side of the coin is bad, too. They'll see you giving Amina special attention and think that’s why, all while they feel ignored. Your father would never do this. You know that.”

Grimacing, I finished drying off and headed for the door. “We've been over this enough times, Violet. I'm not my father.”

She followed me to my room but didn't come inside. “Did you see it yet?”

I opened my closet and fished out a white tee shirt. “What?”

“The video from the gala. LA Local did a news spot on it this morning.” Her smile was sly. “Watch it when you get a moment. Before that, do some actual work and text me those contacts. I'll reach out to all of them and see if they've got any offers worth entertaining.”

I nodded briskly. Her footsteps faded down the hall. I shut the door, dropping onto my king-sized bed. My heavy head fit perfectly in my hands. Last night wasn't a mistake. It didn't matter how many different ways Violet said it. I knew in my gut that what I'd done with Amina was special.

I'd felt it.

I was sure she had, too.

****

She was sitting in the kitchen when I found her. The red bar stool matched her shirt, and she'd crossed her legs so that one shoe was waving in the air. It moved to a rhythm I couldn't hear; one that was entirely in her head. Her soft lips idly nibbled a pastry in her fingertips.

Sun filtered through the windows. It highlighted the curve of her breasts, drawing my eye hungrily. My cock twitched as it remembered what we'd done in my bed. My mouth watered at the idea of tasting her pretty nipples while she tried to focus on eating breakfast.

“There you are,” I growled, advancing on her. “How'd you like my little swim-show?”

Her attention flew to me. In the depths of her dilated eyes I glimpsed her desire. It made my blood boil. I was right, and Violet was wrong.

“Bach, wait.” She turned away from me.

That simple rejection cut my heart in half. I pulled up short, my hand resting on the back of her bar stool. “What's wrong?”

She set the pastry on the counter then drummed her fingers on her knees. Finally, she pulled in a huge breath. “We can't sleep together and also work together.”

“Why?” I laughed like my heart wasn't freezing over. “We just have to make sure we don't fuck while you're performing... or recording a song in the booth.” I trailed my fingers up her arm, shivering as she began to breathe quicker. “Though,” I said, lowering my voice, “I wonder how amazing a song like that would sound. You, trying so hard to make lyrics while my cock drives into you deeper... and deeper... until—”

“Stop.” The word came out sharp. Amina brushed my hand away, looking me in the eye. “We can't hook-up again.”

“What do you think is going to happen?”

Her fists formed on top of her thighs. “Please, listen to my request. I want to make music with you. That's all I want.”

Liar. I itched to accuse her out loud. I was shaking with desperation to get her to admit she wanted more from me than a music contract. My hand fell from her chair. “You expect me to just turn off everything I'm feeling for you, just like that?” When I snapped my fingers, she winced.

“What do you mean everything you feel? Bach, we hooked up.”

“It was more than that,” I said with a scowl. “You know it, too. Even if you're trying to convince yourself otherwise.” She squirmed but didn't interrupt me. “Here's the deal. I won't force you to do anything with me. If you never give me a passing glance, it won't affect your music career. But if you expect me to stop lusting for you... to stop trying to lure you back into my bed so I can make you writhe, and squeal, and moan... you're insane.”

Amina gawked at me. I didn't break eye contact. She needed to know how serious I was. Because I meant it—I wasn't going to quit pursuing her. Not for a second.

My phone vibrated in my pocket, ending the moment. Cursing, I lifted it in front of me. “Violet already left?”

“Yeah, she power walked by me ten minutes ago.”

“Farrah needs me to get to the office. But Violet also wants me to relay a message to you about the schedule. I hate playing middleman.”

“Sorry,” she said with a sheepish smile. “I still don't have a phone.”

Violet was texting me again. Message after message about potential new talent, agent meetings, and positive buzz from the gala. It was overwhelming. How was I supposed to do all this, and play babysitter with Amina?

You can't, I realized with a start. And you don't have to. “Come with me,” I said.

Amina hopped down, following me into the foyer. As we walked through she froze in mid-step. I was confused by what had stopped her, until I glanced down. Her shoe was poised over the first row of silver tiles that formed the giant music note.

The exact spot we'd fallen last night.

The place I'd run my tongue over her throat while cupping her perfect tits.

Her eyes met mine. Was she able to read the lust in my face? Was she remembering last night with the same fervor as me? She wants to keep our relationship professional. Gritting my teeth, I spun for the double doors. My heels stomped on the smooth floors, echoing as I strolled outside. I didn’t check to make sure she was following me. My body language said I assumed she was, and if she didn’t, it was her loss, not mine.

The sky burned blue, not a cloud in sight. A quintessentially beautiful SoCal day. I didn’t waste a second enjoying it. I moved until I came to the large garage, tapping a button in my pocket to make it open. As the metal rolled up with a gentle rumble, I glanced sideways at Amina. “I don’t have time to drive you around, neither does Violet. You’ll have to take care of yourself for now.”

“Okay,” she said warily. “What does that mean—hey!” She fumbled to catch the keys I’d tossed at her.

“It means you need a car.” I bent my head towards a fire-red Tesla that glowed among my array of luxury vehicles. I delighted at how her eyes widened... how her lips parted. And I agonized over remembering what she’d told me minutes ago about how we couldn't sleep together.

I’ll kiss her again, I reminded myself. I wasn’t letting this woman go. To hell with that.

“You’re giving this to me?” she whispered.

“And this.” I drew out a silver credit card, pinching it between two fingers—the same ones that I’d curled so delightfully inside of her tight cunt. I trembled as she took the card from me. She held up the two rectangles of paper beneath it; my business card, and Violet's. “Buy yourself a phone, you can’t exist in LA without one. Text us your number when you've got one.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“‘Thanks’ will do.”

Her smile was playful. “Right. Thanks, boss.”

I didn’t want to be boss. I wanted to be fuck me harder, and more, god, more! Running fingers through my thick hair, I turned away. “I’ll see you later. Drive carefully, I don’t want to lose my new star to some tragic accident on the 405.”

She was saying something behind me. Some lighthearted joke, probably, but I was hurrying away, playing it aloof because it was the only armor I had. My moods existed on two planes—obsessed with Amina or acting like she meant nothing to me but dollar signs.

Days ago, I’d been sure my biggest desire was keeping my company afloat.

Now I had something... someone... I wanted even more.