Come On And Love Me

Part 11

(Paul POV)

The singer walked into his house just as the sound of his cell phone dinged, notifying him that there was a text message. Paul hung his keys up on the hook and fished the phone out of his pocket, grinning at the name across the screen. It was a good sign that you had received the card and flowers Paul had sent over to the office. He grabbed water out of the fridge and moved to his recliner, reading the text message that you sent.

"I appreciate the flowers but a little confused by why you sent them and what 4 days mean." You asked.

Paul chuckled to himself, debating whether to message you back or keep you guessing until it was time for the KISS team to arrive at the VH1 studio. He took a swig of his water and put the phone down, deciding to keep you guessing for a little. Paul got up from the chair and headed toward the kitchen to prepare dinner for himself. Just as he pulled stuff out of the fridge, the house phone trilled, stopping him in his tracks. Paul shook his head, seeing your number on the caller id. He picked up the device, putting it on speakerphone.

"Hi sweetheart, how is your day going?" Paul asked.

"Oh well, it was great until I learned you guys need approval for the interview, which is nerve-racking. Thank you for that. Then there are the beautiful flowers that I'm sitting here staring at, plus a card mentioning four days. What the hell is going on?" You asked.

"The gig is just happening sooner, and the flowers are just congratulations on landing a second interview," Paul said

"Paul stops fucking with me. What's really going on?" You countered.

"See and correct me if I am wrong, but the last time we were together, you begged me to keep fucking you. Y/N, you're so hot and cold." The singer replied.

"I'm going to stop you right there because I'm still at work," you replied.

"Oh well, this could be fun; you're at your desk right now; what are you wearing?" Paul asked.

"Nope. Mr. Stanley, I'm not doing this with you. I'll talk to you later," you told him.

"Or you could be screaming my name later. You never know," the singer countered.

The sound of you trying to hide your moan at his comment made the singer's dick twitch, and he had to readjust himself as his pants grew tighter around him. Paul ran a hand down his face, trying to regain some type of control again as his old teenage hormones tried to take over. Clicking his tongue to the roof of his mouth, Paul had to have a little more fun with you before he hung up.

"You know, it's just supposed to be my management team coming to the office, but since it seems like we both want to see each other sooner. I think ill just make a trip with Doc, and you can give me a private tour of the place. Keep me entertained while the team discusses our interview. How about that?" He asked.

"You are going to be the death of me or the reason I get fired. I have to go. I have someone at the door, bye," You told him, hanging up.

Paul hung up the phone and leaned against the counter, thinking of making a change of plans. It was unusual for the singer to cancel or make last-minute changes unless it was needed. He rubbed his hand across his five o'clock shadow. Paul grabbed the food he had laid down on the counter and shoved it all back into the fridge. Holding the house phone, he ran up the stairs to the master bedroom, dialing Doc's home phone number, waiting for the man to answer.

"Doc, change of plans. Go call whoever you have to and change the hotel reservations and get them to gas up our plane. No, I don't care what time it is. This is what we pay you to do, so do it. Call me back in twenty minutes." Paul told him.

The singer grabbed his suitcase out of the top of his closet, grabbing clothes, shave kit, and other essentials. He knew he would get an ear full from Doc or one of his bandmates if they found out, but it was his life. As long as he wasn't hurting himself or anyone else who cared.

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(Reader POV)

You ran a hand down your face, trying to control your breathing from the conversation with Paul. Not wanting whoever was at your office door to see how flustered you were. The singer definitely had a talent for getting you all riled up. This time, it was only with words, making you wonder if there would be another hookup while he was here for the concert date. Shaking the thought out of your head and getting up from your desk to answer the door. You rolled your eyes when you saw it was Joey, with a smug look on his face, only meaning he was up to no good.

"What do you want? You're supposed to be working on emails, not coming to harass me." You replied, going back to your desk.

"I heard the Kiss management team was reviewing your interview. Guess your little flirt session with the old man isn't approved. Guess they don't want his wife to find out that he was making out with a girl on camera." Joey told you, coming over to the flowers.

"Would you stop calling him an old man? Paul could outdo you, believe me. Second, he is not married, and we weren't making out on camera. You've tried to do a lot worse on camera, so shove it, Joey." You snapped.

"Who sent you these? He asked, attempting to grab the card.

"If you don't need me for the edits or to talk about the next assignment. Then stop touching my stuff and get the fuck out of my office." You told him.

"God so sensitive, I'm going home now. Do you want to walk down with me? "Joey asked.

"No thanks. I have a few loose ends to tie up here. See you tomorrow." You replied, turning back to your computer.

You felt his eyes on you for a few minutes longer, making your skin crawl, knowing he was debating asking you to go hang out with him. Finally, the sound of the door shutting gave you a sense of relief, thankful that Joey had taken the hint and left you alone. You wondered what would happen if he saw you with Paul after the show or if he knew what you and the singer did after the first interview.

"This situation is only going to get messier," you sighed, returning to your email.