Breaking All the Rules (8 page)

Is it okay to cry over spilt noodles? No? You’re going crazy, Mia. Get it together.
She was definitely crying over the leftovers she left in her wake. She cried over her ruined shirt and the way the broth burned her stomach. She cried over Aaron Hart making her feel so insecure and worthless, and then Benson giving her the best night of her sexual life, taking part of her with him as he left. She cried over Grant and all his lousy promises and feeling so ashamed in front of Lora and her mother. She cried over her own mother and her abusive step-father. She cried remembering the way he touched her in the middle of the night and the way Eddie would scream for him to stop, only to get knocked out in a single blow. Mia didn’t stop crying until she fell asleep that night.

Monday morning Mia didn’t want to get out of bed. Her body ached and she was certain she looked like a train wreck. She painted a heavy layer of makeup on, hoping her coworkers bought the fake confidence, and left early for the subway. To her surprise, a black Bentley was waiting by the curb with a familiar driver standing nearby. Her heart stopped.

“Miss Barnes, Mr. Ward requests you allow me to drive you to and from work so you don’t have to go on the subway.”

A startled laugh erupted from her throat, “Did he?” 

“Yes, Miss.”

“Tell Mr. Ward to shove it up his ass,” Mia croaked as she walked away.

“Miss Barnes?” The driver called out. When Mia didn’t turn he shouted again. “Mr. Ward will not be very pleased if you take the subway.”

Her blood was hot with anger and sickening fondness for the man, “Tell Mr. Ward I wasn’t pleased when he left my bed, so he’ll have to suck it up!”

Mia tried to busy herself at work. The concert Saturday night was a success for Burnside. Her daily Internet searches of the bands signed to Monarch Records pulled up a surprising number of new pages and links for the band. They had even scored a tiny paragraph on a popular music blog. Though she knew Tyler was likely still asleep, she forwarded the link to his email. He had been a nervous wreck since they arrived in New York. Burnside wasn’t the first band he had managed, but it was his first signed band. The fact that Tyler was a childhood friend to the four members of the band made things even tenser. Mia had warned him not to mix his work life with his personal life, but he ignored her with a laugh. Months later she was ignoring her own advice, though admittedly, not with a laugh.

She put on a rather depressing playlist and worked through her lunch hour. Shortly after noon, her cell rang flashing Tyler’s name. She rolled her eyes and answered,

“How many times do I have to tell you not to call my cellphone when I’m at work?”

“A thousand,” She could feel his grin through the line. “I can’t believe we got mentioned on The Garage. How cool is that?”

She smiled, “Very cool.”

“I’m sure you deal with a lot of bands that end up there, though,” Tyler wistfully sighed.

“Yes, I do,” Mia admitted. “But you guys are special.”

“Shucks, Mia. I’m sure you tell all your dates that,” Tyler said in a fake Southern accent that brought a well needed laugh into Mia’s life.

“Only the cute ones.”

Tyler groaned, “You’re killin’ me!”

“Bye, Tyler,” Mia taunted, slipping back into the way things used to be. “Stop by my office when you guys are recording this week.”

Mia ended the call with a laugh. A few seconds later, her work phone rang, the red light illuminating alongside an annoying ring. She answered jovially,

“You’re a quick learner, Tyler. I’m impressed.”

“
Mia
.”

Mia snapped upright in her chair, her eyes squinting at the caller display. Why hadn’t she looked at it before she picked up? Ward Industries stared back in bold blocks. Not that she needed to see the buildings name to confirm it was Benson. She’d recognize his deep voice anywhere. He sounded angry and a tad jealous.

“Nice of you to call, Benson,” She was glad he wasn’t in the room so he couldn’t see how she sunk into her chair.

“What were you talking to Tyler about that is so impressive?” He bit.

“Tyler works for Monarch Records. We were talking about business.”

“Yeah, it sounds like business.”

Mia hated the accusation in his voice, “You don’t own me, Benson.”

“The hell I do. Is that why you didn’t take my car this morning, Mia? Were you going to meet Tyler?”

“Jesus Christ, Benson!” Mia hissed. “What is your problem?”

“
You’re
my problem, Mia.”

“Please enlighten me, then,” She gave an exasperated sigh. “How am I your problem when you’re the one who left me alone after fucking me senseless? I think that makes you my problem.”

Images of him over her, his cock buried deep inside her as she barely clung to life flashed before her eyes. She cursed herself for growing wet at the memory she tried so hard to ward off.

“Dammit!” The sound of his fist hitting his desk made Mia jump. “Why do you have to be so difficult? You should’ve taken my car this morning, and I don’t like you flirting with Tyler.”

“You ended whatever was between us when you left Saturday. Goodbye, Benson.”

Mia ended the call before she could say anything she’d regret. She missed his voice. She imagined him behind his desk with his tie loosened as he fumed over the thought of her flirting with Tyler. Had he been with another woman over the weekend? Had he left her bed and slid into another? Maybe he wasn’t behind his desk with a loosened tie. Maybe he was waiting for a pretty lunch date. Maybe he had moved on from Saturday night like it meant nothing at all to him.

Then why had he called her? Why did he sound so hurt, so strained, so angry? Why had he sent a car for her that morning? She had only joked about the ride to work, yet he took her concern seriously, making the arrangement. He had made no contact on Sunday, leaving her alone with her thoughts, some sad songs and a bottle of cheap wine. After she had dinner with Lora and her mother, Mia had wanted nothing more than to call Benson, but she had nothing of him but a vivid memory and a fresh scar on her heart.

Work went by painfully slow from that point of the day. Having skipped lunch, Mia was painfully aware of the grumble from her stomach. A trip to a vending machine in one of the many break rooms and a bag of potato chips didn’t seem to settle the grumble. She’d skipped breakfast and lunch on top of barely eating over the weekend. By five o’clock she felt like she had accomplished nothing but complain about her hunger and wallow in her misery over Benson.

She avoided eye contact with her coworkers as she fled the building. The streets around her bustled with life. Men and women passed around her buzzing, phones clutched to their ears with a coffee cup teetering in their hands. A roaring sea of cars moved relentlessly just feet away. None of it mattered. All she could see, all she could hear, was Benson Ward just feet away, leaning against his limo with his legs crossed casually.

At first glance, Mia noticed his previously fresh face was wearing the thin shadow of a day or two gone without shaving. It looked good on him. Too good. Paired with a dark suit tailored to perfection and his disheveled dark chocolate hair, Benson looked like an urban god casually surveying his masses. That is, until he looked at her. There was no hiding the bags under his dull eyes. His mouth was tight. Mia wanted to touch the stubble that he wore so well on his chiseled jaw.

Instead of turning and walking the other way, Mia gravitated towards him. She was under his spell. Despite two days of swearing off Benson Ward, she would do anything to smell the warm embers and leather that drifted off his body. She was an addict looking for her next fix.

“What are you doing here?” She questioned, trying to sound as collected and cool as she did over the phone, but failing miserably.

“Making sure you get a ride home,” His voice was dry, his lips thin.

She waited a long moment. His eyes were so hot on her she wondered if they bore lasers. She wanted to run; she wanted to find that control she needed. Instead she shifted and said, “Only because the subways will be busy.”

Benson’s thin grimace broke into a fragmented smile as he grabbed her arm and helped her into the limo. When he sat next to her and closed the door to the outside world, Mia became aware of the intimacy that lingered, the closeness that was now engaged in the confined space.

He was on her within a second. She couldn’t resist the kiss. She craved his lips, his tongue. His facial hair felt
so
good against her cheeks. She wondered how it’d feel between her thighs. His hands dug under her blouse aching to feel her skin.

“I missed you so much, Mia,” He growled into her mouth.

“How can you miss something you never had?” Her words were distant.

Benson drew back, his eyes hard, “You’re mine, Mia. I’ve told you.”

“And I must fail to see how sleeping with me one night and then not hearing from you makes me yours? When you left me to cry myself to sleep, non-the-less?”

He winced and rubbed his jaw, “I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“You did a great job with that,” She shot, sarcastically.

“You look like you haven’t slept,” He said softly, his hand cradling her jaw. “You look sick.”

“The aftermath of Benson Ward,” She chuckled bitterly.

              He jerked her head in his direction, waiting until her eyes finally drifted to him to speak, “Then this is the aftermath of Mia Barnes.” He looked a little worse up close. The bags she had notice at a distant were darker, heavier. His eyes appeared irritated. “Every time I close my eyes I think of you beneath me. Every time I try to eat I taste your sweet juices. You’ve driven men mad. I thought if I had you I could breathe again, but dammit, it’s gotten worse. You’re inside me, Mia.”

             
And I want you inside me, Benson
.

              She looked at the man who was so close to her she could smell his intoxicating breath. His eyes softened under her inspection. The man was undone. He was confused and afraid, his heart aching inside him. He felt sabotaged by his own body. Since their encounter Saturday, Benson had convinced himself he’d gone utterly mad. He had ran through every possible scenario, every possible reason for Mia’s presence inside him. He thought of wooing her into bed again, only to have his heart ache at the thought of leaving here so vulnerable again. He couldn’t possibly tell her how she made him feel. Or could he?

              “Mia,
precious
, Mia,” He buried his face in her hair and breathed in her scent of ginger and roses, savoring every second of the euphoria. “You make my heart beat. You make me ache for something I can’t describe, something I don’t know.”

              “Why did you leave, Benson?” She was crying.

              He bolted upright, his fingers desperately trying to erase the tears, “I told you.”

              “That’s not enough.”

              He swore and looked out the window, then back at Mia, “I-I was
afraid
, Mia. When I look at you, I rethink everything.”

              “So you split, screw around and then decide you want me back?” She gave a grim laugh.

              “The thought of anyone but you makes me sick,” He bore through gritted teeth, drawing her attention back at his face. “Why are you fighting me?”

              “You can’t just come and go as you please, Benson,” She strained. “Why are you telling me all of this if you’re just going to leave tomorrow?”

              “I’m trying, okay?” He nearly shouted. “This isn’t something I do every day, Mia. This isn’t something I’ve ever done. But you… you…”

              “Make you forget how to speak?” Mia shifted and sat on her knees so they were eye to eye. “Make you forget that air is necessary to life because the only thing necessary for my life is you?”

              He met her gaze, “You make me wonder how I’ve gone twenty eight years without you.”

              She shivered, and then gasped as his lips pressed against her neck, leaving a hot trail up to her lips. He looked at her with the intensity he had the first time he laid eyes on her. He was enthralled with Mia, captivated by her in every way possible. Their kiss wasn’t hard, nor was it soft. It was seeking, pressing, embedded with the dire passion and raw emotion the two shared. Benson pulled away with a jagged breath, “Let me come home with you.”

              “I can’t have sex with you right now,” When she saw his pained frown, she shifted and smiled. “No- Benson, look at me. I physically cannot have sex with you until I eat something. I haven’t eaten since yesterday at Lora’s. I don’t have the energy.”

              Amusement swept over his face and he leaned over to a panel displayed on the sleek interior of limo, “Change of plans, Victor. We’ll be going to La Bocco this evening.”

              Mia quirked an eyebrow, “You can get in anywhere, can’t you?”

              “I own the place, so I’d hope they have room for me.”

              “What don’t you own?” Mia asked while looking out the window, wondering if the buildings they were passing belonged to Benson.