Page 11 of Forever Yours

“Misdirection fans are great,” I said diplomatically, “but sometimes they can be overzealous.” I would never forget the first time a stranger had grabbed my ass. I’d been sixteen. In retrospect, it was creepy. The woman had been old enough to be my mother.

“I can imagine.” Suddenly, she grinned. “Sorry, but I’m having a moment. I can’t believe I’m sitting here with Trenton Mazer.”

I shrugged. “I’m just a normal guy.”

She rolled her eyes. “No, you’re not. Don’t even pretend you are.”

I grinned. “Okay, I won’t. I’m a god of a man with a voice like honey.”

She shot me a dry look, making me laugh.

“Too much?”

She wrinkled her nose and held up her thumb and pointer finger, an inch apart. “A little.”

I liked her. Even in the middle of her fan moment, she was grounded enough not to blow smoke up my ass.

After the debacle with Lindsey, I had no interest in dating another celebrity, at least not long-term. That came with too much baggage, too many conflicts. Hats off to those who made it work, but it was a headache I didn’t need. Yet, the flipside of that coin also had challenges. I’d never dated a regular woman who wasn’t intimidated by or in awe of my celebrity status. I was damned either way. Good thing I wasn’t looking for any kind of relationship.

“Fine,” I said. “I’ll stick with a voice like honey and forgo the godliness.”

“How magnanimous of you.”

“I’m a humble guy.”

“You know, I sensed that about you.” She paused. “That’s true, actually. You always seemed humble. Never one to seek attention.”

I shifted uncomfortably. What she’d said was true, but it felt odd to have someone I’d just met point it out. That was the thing about being famous, though. I was one of the more private celebrities, but even still, much of my life was in the public domain. I didn’t have to know a person for them to feel like they knew me.

“Sorry,” she said. “Drawing attention to your unwillingness to draw attention to yourself has obviously made you uncomfortable.”

“Is it that obvious?”

She tilted her head. “Probably about as obvious as the fact that I’m not from around here.”

“Touché.”

She settled back on the couch, seeming pleased with herself. Another Misdirection song came on, and she grinned at me. “You should go to the dance floor. Or it is lame to dance to your own music?”

“Lame.” I took a long drink. “Definitely lame.”

She arched a brow then started doing the hand movements we’d used in the video for the song. It should have been lame and stupid, because those moves were cheesy as hell, but she made them sexy. She should have been the embarrassed one, but I was the one blushing.

She held up her pointer finger. “Can I get one move?”

“Nope. Not doing it. Didn’t you hear? I’m retired from Misdirection.”

Her lower lip stuck out in a pout. “That’s a shame. Your solo music is great, but it doesn’t come with a side of ass shaking like Misdirection’s songs do.”

I laughed. “No one’s ever quite put it like that before.”

“Misdirection’s synchronized ass shaking is legendary.”

“I’mdefinitelyretired from that.”

“That’s a double shame.” She smiled slyly. “But what about solo ass shaking? Or, you know”—she gestured between the two of us—“as part of a duo?”

I set my empty glass on the table. “Are you asking me to dance?”

“That depends.”

“On what?”

She bit her lip. “On if your answer is yes.”

I had no intention of getting anywhere near the dance floor, but I couldn’t resist the opportunity to press my body against hers. “Yes.”

Ali

Trenton stood and held out his hand. Holy shit. I couldn’t believe I’d gotten up the nerve to ask him to dance. Even crazier was the fact that he’d agreed. I downed the last of my mai tai and placed my hand in his. He led me to the dance floor. Just as we got to the edge, the Misdirection song ended, and “Senorita” by Shawn Mendes and Camila Cabello came on.

Trenton didn’t miss a beat. He pulled me tightly against him, clasping my hand in his and holding it against his chest. In that moment, I knew I was outmatched. As an aspiring pop singer, I knew I needed to know how to dance. With my busy schedule, I hadn’t had time for formal training, and it wasn’t as if there were many dance studios that catered to twentysomethings wanting to learn the type of dances that were popular on TikTok. So I’d gone to the source itself—TikTok—to teach myself. I would never be like Britney Spears, but that was fine with me. I would rather have been known for my music than my dancing.

I let Trenton take the lead, and his thighs pressed up against mine, signaling the steps. Forget ass shaking. His hips rolled, sending a thrill through me. He gripped my waist, his gaze meeting mine before he twirled me out. I struck a pose, and then he was pulling me back against him. I lifted my hands above my head and slithered down his body. As I stood, I spun so my back was facing him. His fingertips dug into my hips as we swayed to the rhythm of the music.

I’d been so wrong about Misdirection’s synchronized ass shaking. Because this? This was way better, way more sensual than it had any right to be, considering that we had an audience. But I couldn’t help but wonder… if his moves were that sensual on the dance floor, how would his moves elsewhere compare?

My body suddenly felt warm, and I tried to convince myself that it was caused by the physical exertion from dancing. But that was a bald-faced lie. That particular heat was all Trenton’s doing.

The song ended, and Trenton’s hands stayed on my waist even as the beat became more up-tempo, making the kind of dancing we had been doing no longer fitting for the song. I didn’t want him to break contact, which was a sure sign that I needed to put some distance between us. I took his hand and pulled him off the dance floor.

“I need to go to the ladies!” I had to yell to be heard over the music.

His mouth stretched into a lazy grin. “Right, because you didn’t actually make it there before.”

I nodded, not having the sense to feel embarrassed anymore.

He pointed at the bar. “Another mai tai?”

I nodded again, then set off to find the actual ladies’ room. I had only just dampened a paper towel and pressed it against the back of my neck when Georgia burst in.

“Oh… my… God.” Georgia gaped at me. “I’d thought someone abducted you and dragged you out back to the dumpsters in the back alley. Instead, you’re canoodling with Trenton Mazer!”

I frowned. “First, I’m not canoodling, not that I even understand what that is. And second, why would someone take me out to the dumpsters?”

“I don’t know. Nothing good happens in the back alley near the dumpsters. Don’t you watch TV?”

“Not if I can help it.”

She stared at me. “I did not know that about you. You’re missing out.”

“You burst in here like the place is on fire to talk about TV shows?”

“What?” She shook her head. “No. I’m being a proper wing woman and making sure everything is okay.”

“Everything is fine.”

“Just fine? Because things looked a little… er… hotter than fine.”

My cheeks heated, making me wish I’d been pressing the damp paper towel to my face instead of my neck, but I didn’t want to mess up my makeup. I smiled coyly. “Why do you think I’m cooling off?”

“Oh my God!” Georgia fanned herself. “He is so freaking hot.”

“I mean… yes.” I couldn’t deny it, not that I wanted to. He’d claimed to be just a regular guy, but he was anything but that. Still, he seemed like he was genuinely nice and down-to-earth, something I’d heard was rare among celebrities.

“As your wing woman, I just want you to know that I’m perfectly capable of finding my own way home. You don’t have to worry about me if you want to—”

“Georgia,” I hissed, glancing over my shoulder as a toilet flushed in one of the stalls. I kept my voice down, not wanting to air my business. “It’s Trenton Mazer. He’s taking pity on me by hanging out with me.”

Georgia pursed her lips. “Pity? Have you seen yourself? No man’s reason for hanging out with you involves pity.”

I cleaned up well, but there was no way I could compete with the Hollywood starlets he was probably used to dating. I rarely followed celebrity gossip, but I couldn’t recall him being linked with anyone. That made sense, considering that he didn’t seem to like attention, which was odd for a celebrity. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, but still, he’s… well… him… and I’m just me.” Right now, a voice in the back of my head reminded me. That was about to change. “Besides,” I went on, “I don’t need any distractions right now.”

“Uh… I don’t think you’re going to get this chance again, so it’s now or never.” Georgia looked over her shoulder at the door with a longing look, as if she had X-ray vision and could see right through it to Trenton. “If you’re not gonna bite, can I?”

I gasped. “Georgia!”

She looked all wide-eyed and innocent. “What? That man is too delicious not to partake.”

“Oh… my… God. He is not a piece of meat!”

“Isn’t he, though?” Georgia laughed. “Did you ever watch Sex and the City? Oh, wait, never mind. You don’t watch TV. Anyway, there’s this whole episode about having sex like a man. You know—wham, bam, thank you, ma’am. All I’m saying is it’s worth a try.”

“You’re horrible,” I told her.

She shrugged, clearly unbothered by my assessment. “Not horrible. Just newly single after many, many years of monogamy with a man I wasn’t too keen on in the first place. I’m totally striking out. Now get back out there so I can live vicariously through you.” She reached around and slapped my ass like we were baseball players.

I yelped and jumped, putting my hands on my bum. “That hurt!”

“Wimp.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” she sassed back.

I wasn’t sure I liked that new side of Georgia. Remind me to keep her away from champagne in the future.

I shook my head and tossed my paper towel in the trash on the way to the door.

“Text me if you’re not coming home!” Georgia called after me.

I took a moment just outside the ladies’ room to straighten my dress, something I’d planned to do in front of the mirror, but I’d wanted to escape my friend and her well-meaning suggestions. The crowd in front of me parted, giving me a view of Trenton at the bar. He sipped on his drink. A mai tai sat in front of him.

I watched him, and with every second that passed, my body heated. It was time to stop lying to myself—I didn’t want the damn mai tai. I wanted him. Being in LA was about escaping the confines of my boring life, about living the life I wanted. I’d never had a one-night stand, but I’d also never had lavender hair or been a contestant on Sing Battle. My life was full of firsts, so why not add another to the list?

I approached Trenton with trepidation and harboring the secret fear that he could read my thoughts. I’d dated plenty, but I’d always let myself be pursued. I’d never been the pursuer, much less come onto a man for the sole purpose of seeking sex. I’d chosen a hell of a man to try it out on. Even if he hadn’t been famous, Trenton appealed to me on a carnal level. Maybe it was the euphoria of making it onto Sing Battle, or maybe it was the champagne, but I didn’t think so. For once, I was letting my desires call the shots.

Swallowing thickly, I leaned on the bar next to him. I didn’t even know how to go about doing something like this.

He gestured to my drink and grinned. “Another mai tai. My treat.”

I attempted a laugh, but it sounded forced. Too bad. I liked that he inserted humor into situations. As awkward as the whole men’s room debacle had been, it could have been a million times worse.

In a way, I wished we were different people. I was about to launch a singing career, and I couldn’t afford any distractions. Some might have argued that Trenton could be a useful connection in the industry, but I didn’t want that. I’d learned after the fact that my mother and stepfather had pulled strings to get me into my prestigious music program. I hadn’t asked them to, and while I didn’t actually want an opera career, it stung, because for years, I’d thought I’d made it on my own merit. Never again. The next time I found success, it would be because I’d made it one hundred percent on my own.

Steeling my nerves, I leaned close to his ear, once again relishing how good he smelled. “Do you want to go somewhere? Get out of here?”

His eyebrows spiked as he shot me a quizzical look.

Shit. Had I messed it up already? I was so out of my element. I leaned forward again. “It’s just really loud in here.” So lame.

To my surprise, he merely nodded and downed the rest of his drink. Following his lead, I did the same. He gestured for me to walk ahead of him toward the door. On the way, I caught sight of Georgia, and she grinned obnoxiously and flashed two thumbs up. Stop, I mouthed. Luckily, Trenton didn’t seem to notice her.

Once outside, he put his hand on the small of my back, and my skin heated at the feeling of his touch through the fabric. “I have a room in a hotel a few blocks over. We can go to the bar there. It’s probably quiet.”

“It’s bound to be quieter than the club,” I said. “What did you think of Alexis’s song?” Since he’d been in the business a decade, I figured I might as well get his opinion. Also, the small talk helped calm my nerves.

“She has potential.”

I waited for him to elaborate. “What does that mean?”

He paused, seeming to consider his words, which I appreciated. After all, he’d only just met me, and I respected that he might not want to throw shade on another singer. “With the right publicity team, she could do well.”

“That wasn’t what I asked, though. What did you think of the music?”

Again, he hesitated. “It’s in line with what a lot of new female artists are doing.”

Another nonanswer. I could have kept pressing, but we’d arrived at the hotel, and I had other matters on my mind.

He led me toward the bar, but that wasn’t where I wanted to go. I’d just been too chickenshit to ask for what I really wanted—him. Time to pull up my big-girl panties. Because like Georgia had said, it was now or never.

I put a hand on his arm. “Actually, do you want to go to your room?”

His gaze raked over my face, and his tongue ran along his lower lip. “Sure.”

We changed direction, heading to the elevator. He pulled a key card out of his pocket and looked at the number written on the cardboard sleeve before pressing the elevator button.

In the elevator, I wrung my hands for the first few floors then thought fuck it. He was leaning against the wall of the elevator, so it was easy enough to push his back against it. Then I kissed him.

It only took him a second to get up to speed with what I was after. He kissed me back, his tongue slipping between my lips. He wrapped one arm around my waist. His other hand skimmed my thigh, gliding up and taking the fabric of my dress with it.

Heat shot through me, and by the time the elevator doors opened, I was panting. We stumbled out into the hallway, and he pulled the card out of his pocket to look at the room number again. At my puzzled expression, he explained. “I haven’t actually been to the room yet.”

I nodded, not really caring why he didn’t know exactly where the room was. He took my hand, and we hurried down the hallway. He opened the door and tossed the card on the table just inside the entryway. Holy shit. It was a massive hotel room, bigger and much nicer than my apartment back home.

He undid the buttons at the wrists of his sleeves and rolled them up. “So do you want another drink or…”

He let the question go unasked, and suddenly, I realized that this wasn’t the norm for him either. He was also out of his comfort zone. The knowledge emboldened me. “Option two.”

Before I could overthink my decision, he snaked his hand around my waist and pulled me against him. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and he gripped my ass, lifting me. I wrapped my legs around him. He took a few steps, guiding me onto the table. Gripping my thighs, he pressed them even farther apart. He hooked a finger around my panties and yanked them down.

Then he was on his knees and licking me. Sweet God… yes. I fisted my hands in his hair and tilted my head back, enjoying the sensation. His focus shifted, and he sucked on my clit. One finger slipped inside me. I was wet, hot, and ready. I gasped as my head lolled to the side and my thighs quivered. He slipped another finger inside and increased the pressure on my clit. My whole body tightened, begging for the release that was coming.

All at once, I lost control. I might have cried out—I honestly couldn’t say if the sound was only in my mind. All the pent-up tension left my body, and my muscles turned lax. “Oh my God,” I said in a breathy whisper.

Trenton got to his feet and smirked at me. “You just wait. We’re just getting started.”

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