Breaking All the Rules (26 page)

Chapter Twelve

The Dark Room was definitely a Ward Industries venue. It felt effortlessly hip while being meticulously planned. After passing through a solid red exterior door and channeling through a hall draped in black curtains and a glowing red light that housed security and admission, the venue opened up to a jaw dropping scene. Two sets of stairs painted black lined with thick LED lights flanked either side of the room, leading up to a second floor that overlooked the stage.

The walls were a mix of exposed brick and black drapes. The floors were a stunning refurbished wood that flowed seamlessly from one section of the room to the next. On the brick wall near the stage, a red neon sign spanning nearly the entire dance floor displayed the name of the venue. There was a large curvy red sectional in a corner, white lights strung above it. Stainless steel barstools and tables were scattered loosely around the main area surrounding the bar located in the middle of the room. The bar top was plastered with Polaroid pictures. Some were of buildings and attractions around New York. Others were of people dancing or smiling goofily. Two moderately sized flat screens were mounted on the top of the bar.

The dance area was sunken, accessible by two wide sets of three steps. The area was surrounded by a modern black metal railing lit with more bright lights. There was a narrow barrier at the front of the floor where security was positioned. The main floor curved around the sunken in area, providing extra standing room for guests.

The stage itself held the same refurbished wood as the rest of the venue. Black curtains that sparkled were tied back on either side. The wall behind featured The Dark Room logo, though it would be covered with the banner of whatever band was playing. Behind the stage was the wide open area that housed equipment and more red sectionals. There were two soundproof dressing rooms with décor that matched the rest of the venue, including the TV monitors that would display the show. A private bathroom separated the rooms.

Though it was a few minutes shy of five o’clock and the show didn’t start until eight, the building was buzzing with activity. Benson and Mia strolled in to the sound of Burnside practicing on stage, their temporary drummer working hard to mesh with the rest of the band. A few VIP music journalists lingered by the bar chatting idly and eying the stage. Roadies meshed with the designers and executives that were there finalizing every detail.

Benson wore a white shirt with the first few buttons undone under a casual blazer, a pair of black pants, and a pair of dark suede chukka boots. His hair was perfectly disheveled after he spent the entire day running his long fingers thorough it in anticipation. Mia’s chiffon leopard print blouse, tight black jeans, and high stilettos fit perfectly with his attire. A thin gold belt accessorized her waist.

When they strolled in, they took care of the official business they both needed to cater to. Some were joint issues, other were not. When she finished talking with the music journalists, buying them an early round, she went in search of Tyler. She had briefly spoken with him that morning and he was a wreck. Their stand in drummer was an incredibly quick learner and was doing a good job of filling in for Max, but there was a lot of tension off stage. The guys all felt guilty about playing without him, even though Max himself assured them it was what he wanted them to do.

There was a frenzy of bodies backstage, none of which were Tyler. Mia went to grab her cellphone from her back pocket when one of the dressing room doors opened. Charlotte’s Drive filed out, each man more handsome than the last. All devilishly good looking and insanely talented, the group was a force to be reckoned with. She herself had even swooned under a glistening smile, even when she was with Grant.

Grant. He followed them out. She sucked in a breath. He looked good. She had seen him sporadically since they broke up, mostly when she threw her conscious away and let him in her bed when he was in the city. Grant had an edge to his look. He didn’t read as a bad boy. He was more so the untouchable cool kid in high school who had a large brain to match. He had just passed the thirty year mark, yet he looked as good as he had the day they met.

He spotted her and his smile dug a knife in her heart. He strode towards her casually and she took a step backwards. Directly into a hard body. Mia spun on her heel and looked up at Benson. His stern gaze wasn’t aimed at her, though he instinctually held her arms as to comfort her.

“Mia Barnes, you look as lovely as ever.”

His voice. She turned and gazed directly into the chocolate pools that tore her to shreds. Her mouth was suddenly dry, and she blamed her lapse of consciousness and sanity on Benson. She typically handled situations involving Grant with ease. But Benson stirred something magical inside her, and standing between her former lover and current lover was enough to make her forget how to think.

“Grant,” She nodded curtly, unsure of what else to say.

He smiled. It was a grin that could convince someone dirt was gold. His mouth twitched as he looked at Benson.

“You must be Benson Ward, the proprietor of this stunning venue,” Grant stuck his hand out for a shake.

“And Mia’s boyfriend.”

Benson didn’t take Grant’s hand. Grant didn’t falter. He shrugged and shoved the hand in a pocket, casually leaning to the side while he sized the two up.

“Of course. You two make a great couple. Hey, Meez, didn’t you wear a top like that when we were in Mexico? I faintly remember being on the beach and seeing you in some leopard get up. What a crazy few days, right?”

Benson’s fingers curled tightly around Mia’s arms, threatening to cut off circulation. He was two seconds away from lunging at Grant when Mia fumbled to interject. Any lingering emotion towards Grant and his use of her pet name were wiped out when he took a low jab, bringing up their time in Mexico.

“I burned that shirt after seeing you with those other women. Anyway, we have some things to finalize. Good luck.”

It wasn’t the best way to defuse the situation, but was enough so that she could pull Benson away from the situation. His feet were like lead as she tugged him along, and then suddenly he was dead weight. Just as she looked back with curiosity, he tugged her back in the direction they came. Immediately, she began pleading with him to stop. 

“No, Benson. Please don’t fight him. Your face is too pretty to get all bruised, and I promise he’s not bothering me. He shouldn’t bother you, either. He’s insecure and stupid and-”

They passed right by Grant, who was wearing a cocky smile as he talked with his band. Benson growled something as they walked by, but he didn’t even glance in Grant’s direction. He pinned Mia against a black wall a few feet away from the group, draping himself over her with his hands above her head.

“What makes you think I’d lose in a fight?” He muttered with a sly grin.

Mia couldn’t help but let a tense laugh out, “I don’t know if I’d want to risk it. Like I said, you’re too pretty.”

              “He wouldn’t lay one punch,” Benson said smugly. His tone got more serious. “Why didn’t you tell me you went to Mexico with
him
?” When she didn’t answer he dipped lower and smacked the wall. “Did you wear that tonight because you knew you’d see him?”

              “Fuck, Benson!” She hissed, pushing at his chest. “Why the hell would you say that?”

              She knew Grant was watching them, probably sharing a laugh with his bandmates over how he effortlessly got the couple riled up. What neither Grant nor Mia expected is when Benson lifted a small panel in the wall exposing a tiny keypad. After a few strokes the wall beside them popped open revealing a door that had been seamlessly hidden in the smooth black wall. Mia barely had time to look at Benson in surprise before he grabbed her arm roughly and pulled her through the passageway, slamming the door behind them.

              The secret doorway led to a moderately sized office. It was roughly the size of her own office at Monarch Records. All but one wall was exposed brick, the other being a rich red. A small but fully stocked bar was located along one wall, two bookshelves holding various binders and statues along another. A sleek stainless steel desk was positioned in the center of the room. There was nothing on top of the desk except a phone. The chair looked like an expensive leather office chair, and across from the desk sat a red wingback accent chair with white pinstripes.

              “What’s this?” Mia asked with a cocked eyebrow.

              Benson rarely visited his venues and properties. She wondered if they all had a secret mini-office for him to escape to. The room definitely wasn’t intended for managers or other employees.

              He didn’t answer her. Instead, Benson pulled her into a rough kiss, his hands grabbing her bottom to press her further into him. Mia melted in his embrace. She tangled herself in his arms, letting Benson lift her so she could wrap her legs around his body. She couldn’t help but rock herself against him. The pressure of her own jeans against her sensitive parts was enough to hold her over until he touched her. It had to be. She was going insane. His mouth would travel from her mouth to her neck, nipping at the skin, before flicking her earlobe and blowing hot breath straight to her core.

              “I’m going to have to punish you for trying to pleasure yourself,” He muttered hoarsely into her ear.

              He set her down and lifted her shirt, grunting at the sight of her lacy pink demi bra. He popped her breasts out, flicking his tongue over each taunt nipple. Mia moaned and writhed in his arms. His mouth was so hot on her skin she thought he’d turn her into a pile of ashes.

              “I’m going to shred this fucking shirt,” He growled, his fists clenching the thin material. “I should do it now and send you out there wearing nothing but the marks I give you so everyone knows your mine. Say you’re mine, precious.”

              “Yours, Benson. I’m yours,” Mia didn’t hesitate.

              The words were enough to satisfy his primal need for possession. He jerked her pants down to her ankles and turned her, pressing her over the desk in one swift motion. The steel was cold against Mia’s bare skin. She let out a startled cry as her nipples perked at the temperature. Benson lowered his stance and lined himself up with her wet folds. Heat radiated from her core in waves.

              The veins in Benson’s neck strained as he grabbed onto her and buried himself inside her until his balls slapped against her. She let out a heavy sigh of pleasure and gripped the desk, bracing for impact. One thrust and she could tell he was in a rough mood. And he was. Benson tore into her violently. He would thrust and pull her body back at the same time make sure each stroke was hard and deep. Her sweet moans tangled with the sound of his hand against her ass. His hand stung, but he kept going, desperate to mark what was his.

              Mia’s sex squeezed around him as she shook through an orgasm. Knowing she was satisfied, he thrust faster. Like an animal, he pushed deep inside her and called out her name as he came. Not allowing himself but a few seconds to pant and regain his composure, Benson smacked her rear a final time before slipping out and tucking himself away.

              Mia shimmied off the desk and pulled her bottoms up; cursing herself for wearing bikini cut underwear instead of a thong. The material of the undergarment on her red cheeks only made the flesh sting more. The two readjusted their outfits in silence. Knowing his scent was all over Mia, Benson wore a satisfied smile as they exited the office to an all-knowing backstage area. His vixen didn’t dare blush. She kept her chin high and a twinkle in her eye, knowing that every woman now knew Benson Ward was hers.

              The pair spotted a familiar group in one of the dressing rooms. When they passed through the open door, Tyler shot up and frowned in disgust.

              “The next time you two go at it like rabbits in a supply closet, try not to pocket dial me.”

              “Wasn’t a supply closet, champ,” Mia rolled her eyes.

              “He listened a little too long, if you ask me,” Cap chuckled, raising his hands defensively when Tyler punched his shoulder.

Beside her, Benson beamed. He had noticed on their first meeting how into Mia the band manager was. Now he could really see that Mia wasn’t for him to take. She didn’t dare tell Benson how Tyler kissed her in her office. If she did, she was sure Tyler wouldn’t be alive.

              “So I take it you two got to meet everyone? Charlotte’s Drive, too?” Mia asked, directing her gaze to Lora and Zach.

              Lora had met Burnside, or at least various members, before. She loved Charlotte’s Drive, however, and nearly choked Mia in excitement when she handed her best friend two VIP passes for the event. When Mia was dating Grant, Lora never had the chance to meet the band she loved so much. Grant’s dismissal of her friend was a constant slap in the face. Zach was new to the entire scene. The pair sat with stars in their eyes, obviously still processing the entire evening.

              “This place looks amazing, Benson,” Lora smiled in his direction. “It’s probably the nicest venue I’ve ever been to. Not that I go to a lot of shows or anything, but it’s really nice. And now I’m talking myself in circles again. Dammit Zach, I told you to stop me if I started blabbing on and on.”

              “You weren’t blabbing!” Zach exclaimed, making a grand hand motion. The man was an active speaker, and Mia wondered what his lectures were like. “Honest, sweetheart.”