Free CRASH & BURN (Rule Breaker) by Susan Arden

printout in which he’d managed to do all he said with her face and hair.
    “I like it. A lot.”
    Clarissa’s phone rang. “We’re about to begin. What?” Clarissa looked sharply over to her. “Fine. No. It’s your decision. I’ll relay. Hold on.” Clarissa stared from Alana to Andy.
    “Jon said absolutely no color change. He wants her hair color to remain the same. Adamant on that issue. As far as I can tell, Andy, you can wash her hair.”
    “What? No highlights? But I like the effect. May I speak with him?” Alana asked, her heartbeat racing as though she’d been running a decathlon.
    “By all means,” Clarissa said.
    “Excuse me,” Alana said before she stepped back into the hallway. “Hello. The hair color is beautiful.”
    “I don’t want your hair color to change. Is that understood?” Jon said. His steely, seductive voice made a tingle begin at the base of her spine.
    “I don’t agree.”
    “We already know there will be times you and I won’t see eye-to-eye, sweetheart. Also, absolutely no tanning salon. I don’t want your skin tone any different from this morning.”
    She stared at the wall, a cloud of heat moving rapidly up her body. She inhaled. “Anything else, Mr. Lansing?”
    “No haircut. Trimming is pushing it. Washed. That’s it.” The sound of his voice had her biting her lip.
    “Why go to the trouble and expense of a screen test if you’re not going to use the results?”
    “This is the process and we go through the steps to stay on track, Alana. Do you need a reminder of how committed I am to your future?”
    Christ, the slight dominating growl in his voice had her gripping the phone. Was he referring to this morning and her splayed over his lap? Holy hell, she imagined his fingers thrusting into her, two at a time. A heat wave blazed over her face, and she didn’t need a mirror to know she was now neck-deep in the blush overtaking her.
    “Maybe,” she said, whispering.
    “I suppose it’s a good thing you’re not here in my office. What I’d like to do to you…has nothing to do with hair color or makeup. You’d better follow my directions or I’ll be round straight away and pick you up. I can spank you in the back of a car just as pretty as you please. Apparently, your earlier lesson didn’t make the impact I’d hoped.”
    “No. I very much remember what happened.”
    “Then act like it. I expect you to make it to your voice lesson, unchanged and on time. You’ve your first press conference later today, and then we need to meet and go over what transpired today in court.”
    “You mean the whole band?”
    “No. Just you, initially. Tomorrow morning we’re meeting together. The band is setting up at a studio right now. I heard you had Christy with you.”
    “Right.” She waited to hear if he was going to fight her on that front.
    “Tonight, then.”
    “What, no special directions for Christy? She can just get a Mohawk if she wants one?”
    “Sweetheart, she could have dreads and it wouldn’t make a difference. You, on the other hand, I want to return to me with no changes from last night.”
    Alana walked down the hall, away from the open doorway with four pairs of eyes staring back. Finally, in the dressing room, she whispered, “And the bruises on my ass?”
    “If you keep opening that door, I will come through it and find you. Is that what you want?”
    Her whole body wanted him, and yet she struggled with the words. Closing her eyes, the image of him naked, moving on top of her, thrusting into her deeply while he kissed her, commanded her, had her hovering. On the brink. She longed to straddle his lap and take him into her, filling her until she cried out his name as his cock stretched her flesh. The pain and pleasure tangling as he drove into her and crafted a glowing climax. A rush like the one he’d delivered them into last night and this morning. “I can’t lie. Of course I do.”
    “We’ll talk later tonight. Figure something out.