Claimed by the Alpha Celebrity (Rockstar Romance, Alpha Male Erotic Romance, Billionaire Romance) (The Star Struck Trilogy) (13 page)

I fully believed Christoff when he said I was the first woman who was ever able to
fully satisfy him. We had quite the unique chemistry, but there was no way we could maintain a relationship with the distance. He spent most of his time in Germany, and whenever I wasn’t home in Chicago, I was out in L.A., so no matter how bad we both wanted it to work, it just wasn’t practical. I hadn’t heard from him at all in several weeks. I wondered if he was okay. I figured that maybe he was writing lyrics for a new album. He always withdrew from society when he was heavy into the creative process. He warned me of that when we were getting to know each other. It didn’t matter anyway. At this point, my career takes precedence over my personal life, and it was high time for me to move on. I made a conscious decision not to put any more energy into missing Christoff.

I took the last sip of my martini and excused myself to go to the restroom. I walked inside, and the indoor bar was packed. I snaked through the crowd and toward the bar to ask for a glass of water on my way to the ladies’ room. As I was tryi
ng to get the bartender’s attention I caught a glance of a really handsome guy out of the corner of my eye. I couldn’t see his features that well, but I could see he had dark shaggy hair and clear ivory skin. I tried to get a better look without staring. He was looking down, playing with his smart phone. He must have felt me looking at him, because he suddenly looked up and glanced in my direction. I abruptly turned away and started awkwardly looking behind me. I was never great at being inconspicuous.

My
heart began to race. I was drawn to this guy like a magnet. I could not take my eyes off of him. I didn’t want him to catch me looking at him again, so I took a series of quick glances, rather than staring at him directly.
Was that Trevor Dunaway, the billionaire music mogul from Alpha Deity?
No, it couldn’t be. That would be too unreal.

Trevor Dunaway was a self-made billionaire. He started out playing the drums for a garage band in Cleveland, Ohio, then he went on to take the music industry by storm. Trev
or owned multiple record labels, and a rock music television network as well. To most people who weren’t in the industry, he was most well-known as the face of Alpha Deity. Trevor wasn’t just a billionaire business man, he was also a very talented creative artist. Alpha Deity is an amazing industrial rock band. They only come out with an album once every five years or so, but every album they released went platinum. Trevor was the producer, lyricist and lead vocalist, and the rest of the band members rotated and changed over the years. The band members were known for their turbulent relationships with each other, and they could never keep a steady line-up for more than two years. Despite their interpersonal turmoil, they made good music. I owned a couple of their albums. Their music was perfect when I was in a deep, introspective mood. And I always appreciated Trevor’s lyrics; they were so aggressive yet intelligent. I glanced over at him again. That was totally him! He had gorgeous, distinct, dark brown eyes that mesmerized me. His full dark hair framed his fine features and strong jaw line perfectly. But it wasn’t just his looks that caught my attention, there was a sensual energy radiating from him that made me feel light-headed and tingly inside.

I was try
ing to decide whether I should approach him and if so how. Ever since he became a billionaire, he didn’t do a lot of meet-and-greets or after parties anymore, so being able to talk to him right here and right now could quite possibly be a once in a lifetime opportunity. I tried to slow down my shallow and rapid breathing. I got the bartender’s attention and asked for a glass of water, as I tried to discreetly wander closer to Trevor’s barstool. He had such a strong presence. I’ve mingled with Hollywood and rock star royalty on several occasions, but I had never felt an energy like this before. I wanted to get closer to this god-like aura. I wanted to take in all of him instead of just stealing little mousy glances. I took a big sip of water, flipped my hair back and walked right up to Trevor. My breath caught in my throat and I couldn’t speak. He peered over his phone and made eye contact with me.

“Yes?” he raised his eyebrows.

“Hi, I’m Giavanna.” I extended my hand. He took it and his touch lingered.

“Do I k
now you? I feel like I should,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.

“No, probably not. I’m just a huge fan and I wanted to say hi. And I loved the
Fall From Grace
album, it was genius!” I stammered.

“Thanks.” He shrugged cavalierly.

We gazed at each other. I watched his eyes roam all over my body then back to my face. I was wearing a form-fitting sleeveless cream-colored dress, and he seemed to greatly approve. His eyes were dark pools that looked like they would suck me in and drown me if I wasn’t careful. There was an awkward silence. I was about to excuse myself and scurry away when he tilted his head and squinted at me.

“Wait, you look familiar. If you’re not on TV you should be. Are you in the industry?”

“Well, sort of. I’ve done some television work and I have some experience covering the rock scene as a reporter.”

“That’s cool. I know I’ve seen your face somewhere. What else do you do? Do you model or something?”

“No, not really.”

“What do you mean not really? Do you or don’t you?” he prodded
confidently.

“I’ve done some shoots with some no-name photographers when I was younger, but it never really got me anywhere.” I looked away, embarrassed.

He grabbed my chin and gently guided my gaze back to his. “Why’d you give up?”

“I didn’t give up. I j
ust changed direction.”

“Did some guy steer you off your path?” He smirked.

“No, not at all.” I furrowed my brow. “Besides I’m too short to model anyway.” I blushed.

“Hmmm... interesting.” His eyes penetrated mine. I could tell he was thinking. I wondered
about what. Another silence came over us but this time it wasn’t awkward; it was pensive.

I felt naked and vulnerable, even though I hadn’t revealed anything out of the ordinary. It just felt like he was looking into my soul with his god-like powers and dr
awing out all of my secrets. His strong masculine hands reached out on either side of me and caressed both my exposed biceps without any prior warning. I was shocked. Each time his hands ran up and down my arms I felt an electric sensation jolt through my entire body. Trevor Dunaway was touching me. I didn’t even know how this was happening. For a moment I wondered if I was hallucinating. I was paralyzed and speechless. I felt my jaw drop slightly open, but my senses were so overloaded I couldn’t give my brain the command to close my mouth.

“It looked like you had a chill. I noticed goose bumps on your arms,” Trevor soothed.

“Oh,” I responded, still dazed.

“You’re not from L.A. are you?”

“I was born in Cleveland just like you were. But I’ve lived all over, including L.A. and now I’m based in Chicago.” At first I was excited to show off my knowledge of Trevor Dunaway trivia but seconds later I wondered if he would think it was creepy that I knew where he was born. I also knew his father was the top surgeon at the world-renowned Cleveland Clinic, and his mother was a partner at a major international law firm. In addition, I recalled that he had turned thirty-three this year, and he celebrated his birthday in the Cayman Islands. I debated if knowing these facts made me a stalker, or just a good journalist. Trevor interrupted my racing thoughts.

“Ah ha! I knew it. I get a Midwest vibe from you. You seem different, kind of innocent.”

“I’m really not all that innocent, but I can pretend to be if you like the Lolita type,” I teased, proud of my own wit.

“Uh, cute.” Trevor raised his eyebrows and looked away sarcastically.

I felt my cheeks turn bright red. I don’t know what he was doing to me. I’m typically really confident and completely in control but Trevor was doing something to disarm me. The guy in front of me was even more divine than the god-like rock star on the Alpha Deity records I listened to. Just like most creative artists, I could sense that Trevor had a complex darkness lurking deep within. But that’s not what was throwing me off my game. He had a super-human warmth and charisma that I did not know how to react to. I wanted to jump into his arms and have him carry me off into the sunset. My mind was racing with girlish fantasies, but my body was pulsing with womanly desires.

“Don’t blush. No need to get flustered. I’ll go easy on you, because I can tell you’re different. You haven’t been jaded and hardened by the industry. But that being said, you’re a total firecracker and you aren’t going to let anything
or anybody get in your way.”

I was stunned by his insight. He read my personality like a book. I wondered what else he could see. Could he sense that I totally wanted him to kiss me even though we had just met? I wondered if he could feel that my knees wer
e weak with desire. Not the purely carnal desire that I’ve felt for other irresistible men in high places, but a warm, bubbly and giddy desire that made me feel like the leading lady in a romantic comedy.

“Who are you, Freud? Do you always run around psych
o-analyzing people?” I smiled, astonished at my own ability to articulate a response.

“Look at you with the one-liners. No, I’m not Freud honey, but I probably need to lie down on the couch and talk to someone like him.”

I could sense more honesty than humor in his comment. There was so much to him. I wanted to peel away all of his layers and get lost in them. He leaned in close to me as if he was studying me. Pulled by his magnetic energy I took a step forward. He looked me up and down. His eyes seemed to look though my clothes. I involuntarily licked my lips. I felt my cheeks flush with anticipation. We were so close to each other I could feel his breath. My head started to spin as I ached for him to kiss me. He leaned back on his barstool and put some space between us.

“Giavanna, you don’t want to get mixed up with someone like me. Trust me on that one.”

Before I could respond, one of his bandmates approached us. It was Vin Casey, the lead guitarist. He was huge. He stood about six feet five inches, and he had to be close to three hundred pounds. He had an eyebrow piercing, a nose ring and a dark Mohawk. He was just as intimidating up close as he was when he was on stage destroying equipment.

“Hey man! Why are you talking to that TMZ-MTV bitch?” Vin glared
at me. My face turned bright red. I was stunned by his unprovoked aggression.

“Do you two know each other?” Trevor got up from his bar stool and stood between us.

“That’s Giavanna Lacey. She’s one of those shallow, worthless reporters. She’s a part of the media machine that helps all those no-talent pop stars sell records.”

There was a war between the hard rock artists, who considered themselves to be real artists, and the popular commercial artists. The darker, heavier rock artists thought that the pop mus
icians put out garbage just to make money, and that they were ruining the industry because they didn’t know what real music was. In the hard rock world, real art came from pain. In the pop world, your art was whatever your producers and handlers thought would sell. I thought both sides made great music and I always went wherever the story was. Lately, I had been trying to get my foot in the door on the hard rock and metal scene, but I was facing some resistance because I originally made my name covering mainstream pop stars. When I did my story on Christoff and his German industrial rock band, Aus Deutschland, a lot of people said I was a poser and that I shouldn’t have even gotten that story, because I wasn’t hard core enough, whatever that means. But what did they know? Just because I wore pink and didn’t have jet black hair, didn’t mean I wasn’t deep enough to understand heavier music.

“I cover the hard rock scene too,” I said indignantly.

“I think it’s best you get going. Aren’t you missing some Miley Cyrus concert or something?” Vin slurred his words.

“Hey Vin, cool it.” Trevor placed his hand on Vin’s chest to prevent him from getting any closer to me.

I was humiliated by Vin’s comments. I hoped Trevor didn’t share Vin’s negative thoughts about me. I tried not to show any emotion on my face. As if to save me, at that moment Amber stormed in looking for me. Once she made eye contact, instead of walking up to me she hung back and yelled over the crowd. I’m glad she didn’t come over to us. I didn’t want her to have to face Vin’s wrath, considering she is one of the top pop artists in the industry. I’m certain he hates her even though he probably doesn’t know her personally.

“Hey, Gia! We’re headed to the Justin Timberlake and Jay-Z after party. Peyton got
us on the list. Let’s go!” Amber waved her arms wildly, gesturing toward the door.

“Point proven,” Vin scoffed.

I rolled my eyes at Vin before turning to Trevor. “Trevor, it was nice meeting you but I’ve got to run. I love your work. Maybe I’ll see you around sometime?”

“Maybe.” He smirked seductively. I could feel him stare after me as I turned to meet Amber.

I was so attracted to Trevor. Not only was he sexy, but his warm, laid-back energy complimented my fiery intense energy perfectly. I felt drawn to him. I was completely starstruck. I wish Vin hadn’t interrupted us. I could tell that Trevor was attracted to me too. I could see it in the way his gaze lingered. But I could also tell that he was holding something back. For some reason he wasn’t going after me full force. Maybe he was like most billionaires, and he was used to women throwing themselves at him and he had become accustomed to not having to pursue. I don’t know what I was expecting exactly, considering we only spoke for less than ten minutes. I guess I’m just used to guys making bold moves immediately. Trevor seemed like a different breed; a gentleman. I wondered what he meant by his comment when he said I shouldn’t get mixed up with someone like him. I wanted to know more. I didn’t know how and I didn’t know when, but I knew that I would see him again. Man, I love L.A. It truly is the city of dreams. My head was cloudy as I was plotting and planning how I would see Trevor again. When I got to where Amber was standing by the door, she grabbed my hand and dragged me out to where the rest of our friends were waiting.