Broken Record

Chapter 20: Benton and Stevie

Benton stared down at Stevie as she pressed her back against the exterior studio wall, the vibrations from the music fusing with her spine. She was wearing a hot pink silk slip dress and black leather combat boots, her thin but shapely bare legs standing out against the dark wall of the hallway. Benton looked tense, on edge, his jaw ticking ominously. Stevie's mind flashed with ideas of what could be bothering him, but she forced herself to remember that it must be something about work. It had to be. This wasn't The Den. She was nothing to Benton outside of those walls. Perhaps Jelena's mother had complained more about Stevie's rudeness in their meeting earlier this week?

"I'm a selfish man, Stevie, you should know that by now." Benton stood two feet away from her, his hands in his pockets, his stance wide and defensive. Stevie blinked up at him, cocking her head with misunderstanding.

"Ohhkayy, and what does that have to do with me?" Her sass was back in action, her internal reminder to act just like the Stevie before last night tipping on autopilot. The Stevie who didn't know Benton's secret. The Stevie who hadn't known her own growing secret intrigue with restrained sex...

"Don't be smart."

"Too bad, not possible." Stevie quirked a smile and something like fire flashed in Benton's deep blue eyes. She couldn't tell if he was aroused or pissed as hell. She braced herself more firmly against the wall in either case.

"You're so...fuck." Benton rapsed out the curse word, running his hands thoughtlessly through his hair before registering his actions and smoothing the brown waves back into place. "Just answer this goddamn question. Have his hands been on you?" Stevie's eyebrows scrunched together in genuine confusion. Had whose hands been where?

"Is this some sort of...role play?" Stevie's voice squeaked with slight embarrassment. Was Benton doing some Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde skit right now? Was he really that into his alternate reality fantasies that he was borderline insane from it? Stevie didn't know if that level of crazy excited or scared her. Typical adrenaline junkie.

"Stevie, fucking Christ." Benton practically spit on the floor, his hand flying up to her throat so quickly she let out a yelp but the sound was dim at best. His hand splayed against the skin at her neck, his thumb pressing into her chin, immobilizing her head. It didn't hurt, but it was certainly...restraining. Stevie felt her heart race, the pounding loud enough to be heard even over the din of the studio music.

"Are you and Aero fucking, Stevie?" Benton's words were dripped with sarcastic cordiality, his professional tone undermined with something far more sinister. Stevie had seen Benton in command, in control. She'd seen him annoyed and vexed even. But never this angry. Not even when he'd whipped off her black wig and realized it was her underneath his hands at The Den. Never on the edge of losing his shit like a feather blowing in the wrong direction might topple him over. She swallowed hard past the lump in her throat.

"Is this...s-some sort of test? To make sure I don't break your rules?" Stevie squeaked out, the area between her thighs growing warm at the proximity and restraint that Benton's body had over hers. Benton scanned Stevie's face, his thumb moving rhythmically against her chin, tugging slightly so that her doll mouth popped open.

"Not a test, Stevie. Answer the question."

"No. Never. Not even interested." Stevie breathed out the words, her body already primed for him. She shifted her legs, trying to get an ounce of relief but her body felt like it belonged to him the way he was holding her. She could barely move.

"Do not lie to me again, Stevie. You already did that once. I never give second chances."

"I'm not lying. But you already gave me a second chance...so I guess what you mean to say is that you never give third chances--" Before Stevie could finish with her taunt, Benton's mouth slammed violently against hers, effectively shutting her up. Stevie moaned as he loosened his grip on her throat, burying his hand into the back of her hair, the other slamming the curve of her hip into the wall. Stevie heard him growl into her mouth, a slight tang of blood dotting her tongue as Benton pulled away, marking her.

"That will not happen again." Benton stepped further back, collecting himself. Stevie couldn't tell if he was talking to her or just to himself out loud. They both glanced up, wide-eyed, when they heard the door of the studio open and Mary emerged into the hallway. Her brown eyes moved from Benton to Stevie and back to Benton, assessing. Benton cleared his throat and nodded his head at Mary.

"I have a meeting with media management in ten, yes?" Benton's face was cool, calm marble. Stevie struggled to find the same sense of ease, her body, her lips, everything screaming for release. Benton had just broken one of his own damn rules. And a big one at that.

"Well, better get back to it. And sorry again about being disrespectful to Jelena's mother, I'll uh...work on that." Stevie ducked her head, notting Benton's squinted eyes and slight smirk at her show for Mary. Why did that approval mean the whole fucking world to Stevie? That he thought she was clever, smart, so irresistible he practically ate her lips in the goddamn hallway. She should be focused on her music. On her promise to get another two songs to mega-viral within the next few months. No matter how attracted or infatuated Benton might be with her right now, Stevie knew at the end of the day that Pacific Records would always be his number one. The only thing a man like Benton could love, could cherish, could dedicate himself to more than anything was a multi-billion dollar business. Stevie was a muse, a phase, a source of intensely satisfying entertainment. Nothing more. And why more anyway? With the feel of Benton's hands at her throat, his teeth pulling at her bottom lip, his erection digging into her stomach...who needed more when you could have that? For however long he was willing to give it.