Free The Last Love Song (A BWWM BDSM Romance) by Lyn Rosella

collaborate. No more bullshit."
     
    "Time to go." Vaughn lifted the smaller man by his arms, squeezing him so he couldn't take a swing. Jet kicked and cursed but Vaughn was fast, and soon he'd planted the poor guy on the other end of the room.
     
    I didn't hear what he said to him - I could only watch from my spot near the exit - but Jet's angry expression quickly melted into fear. In fact, he looked a little sick.
     
    Then Vaughn was back at my side. "I called the car," he said, "Let's roll."

 
    What an awful night . I felt so foolish. First I'd made an utter idiot out of myself with Vaughn, and then I'd gone and panicked at the mere mention of Camden's name.
     
    I had to get over it. We were so much younger back when we were together, when he pulled what he pulled. We were in the public eye, now. He wouldn’t try anything because he could never hope to get away with anything. Touching me would kill his career.
     
    Of course, he was crazy enough to do it if it meant dragging me down with him. That was the problem - everyone thought I should just move on, get over it, but they didn't know just how crazy he was. But I did.
     
    "Home, Ma'am?" The driver asked.
     
    I didn't have the energy to get angry at his "Ma'am." At twenty-eight, I was ancient in pop culture's eyes already.
     
    I opened my mouth to speak but Vaughn cut in first. "I think the lady needs another drink."
     
    "Yes," I said without thinking. Somewhere quiet. I wasn't ready to wallow in bed yet. "Hotel Lioness has a lounge in the lobby, do you know where that is?"
     
    "Of course."
     
    We were there in fifteen minutes. Vaughn led the way inside after sending the driver off. He motioned for me once he felt it was safe enough inside.
     
    Sure enough, the dark lounge was quiet, and while not exactly empty, it was dark enough that I could go unrecognized if I was careful.
     
    Vaughn led me to a booth off in a corner. "I'll order from the bar," he said "Wouldn't want a waitress to recognize you and freak out."
     
    "Get something for yourself," I said wearily. "I'll feel so much better about this shitty night if I'm not drinking alone."
     
    A small smile played on his lips when he nodded.
     
    He fetched drinks from the bar -whiskey for me, beer for himself - and settled next to me in the booth.
     
    I had no idea what to say. So I brooded over my drink and tried to calm my jittery nerves.
     
    When he finally spoke, it did nothing to soothe my anxiety. "Why did you request me, Zenaida?"
     
    My mind raced. I needed to see you. I need you to speak to me, to touch me . I didn't answer at all.
     
    He stared at me with those intense blue eyes - the very first thing I had noticed about him.
     
    "Let's play nice," he finally said. "How was your week? What have you been up to?"
     
    I spouted idle chatter about rehearsals. He talked a bit about his assignment for the week - some actor doing a late night talk show tour before heading home to the east coast.
     
    I didn't care about any of it. All the while I waited for the dominant sexual side of him to appear, but he gave no hint of it.
     
    Finally I reached the end my rope. I couldn't stand wondering anymore. I had to know where I stood.
     
    "You never asked about my… assignment," I whispered after a lull in our conversation.
     
    "I didn't ask because I trusted that you did it."
     
    "I'm just surprised. I thought you might want to hear about… how it went." My cheeks burned as the memory.
     
    "That isn't how this works."
     
    "Oh." That's it, then . Likely he'd found someone else to focus all that kinky energy on. Someone less difficult. I sank back in my seat, clutching my drink.
     
    "You can't hire me out and just expect me to say the things you want, or to do the things you want. When it comes to us, Zenaida, I am in control. Not you. Letting go is something you're going to need to learn."
     
    His words were exasperating, and a relief at the same time. He wasn't pulling away, he was teaching