❝Sadist,❞ I accused. ❝You only brought me to New York so you could torture me.❞
❝Masochist.❞ Grinning, he pressed his forehead to mine. ❝You stay because you like it.❞ His charming green eyes promised me more. ❝Enjoy it; I want you to. When your m...
The plane landed; we traded the tunnel for the inner terminal, greeted by a glass-shattering uproar.
The cries came in a deafening blast. Paralyzed, I gazed at a sea of frantic teenagers who flopped like inflamed salmon on the run. The only thing shinier than their streaming eyes were the braces, and the glitter on their homemade posters. Airport security and a few flimsy velvet ropes seemed hardly enough barrier to prevent death by fangirl.
Sandwiched to my left was Tyler and on my right was a suit with an ear piece, speaking in his cuff: the first line of defense between us and the hungry crowd. Somewhere in the madness, my name was chanted between the shouts.
"They already love you." Tyler spoke close to my ear in an effort to be heard over the racket. "You're gonna be huge one day."
ओह! यह छवि हमारे सामग्री दिशानिर्देशों का पालन नहीं करती है। प्रकाशन जारी रखने के लिए, कृपया इसे हटा दें या कोई भिन्न छवि अपलोड करें।
Tyler had a Polyform apartment in Manhattan - a gorgeous four bedroom overlooking Central Park. The first two days I saw nothing but the vaulted ceilings. But when the world turned right-side up, he gifted me the biggest guest bedroom - a formality, because every night was spent shaking his king-sized fourposter. He still had a few days before the label would come calling, so our our move became a vacation.
Mornings we jogged in Central Park and had breakfast in Rockefeller Center. Some days we climbed to the top of the Empire State Building and took selfies at the Statue of Liberty. Others we spent goofing off at the Metropolitan Museum of Art or having dance-offs on the Brooklyn Bridge.
One night we visited the Radio City Music Hall, where Tyler spent the night ducking a trio of Rockettes he never called back. Later, to make it up, he took me backstage in Madison Square Garden and introduced me to Lady Gaga, who asked me to be in her next music video.
Tyler and I snapped pics of the lights in Times Square, watched shows on Broadway, and had candlelight dinners at Daniel, The Water Club, and Il Buco. For a little extra on the tip, we also had the finest wines, and went home with a buzz several nights, tasting them on each other's lips. Dessert was always later, in the sheets.
There were shopping sprees and clothes fittings, invitations to sponsor jewelry, and for Tyler to perform at charity galas and fashion shows. He could've made his excuses and left me at home but I was always his plus one, there to share the limelight. When we posed at the logo board, standing cheek to cheek, and the paparazzo hurled questions about our relationship, we never missed a beat. Still, they were relentless. The vacation was nearing its closing but run-ins with the paparazzo continued in waves. From the moment we arrived in New York they were everywhere, in more numbers than the pigeons.
When we went out to eat they tapped on the windows and flashed their camera lights, accosting us in giant hordes outside clubs and the opera. One paparazzo was relentless, waiting in bushes and popping around corners. They all had the same ridiculous, invasive questions, making it a mission to expose every facet of our lives. Tyler relished chances to strike back: smashing cameras, busting selfie sticks, and squirting water bottles. Smart paparazzi never got too close.
One night, in an up-and-coming club club in Red Hook, I let loose under the black and blue strobe lights, dancing as Tyler performed on stage. I was shortly joined by a trio of pretty girls, one of whom seemed to have eyes only for me, despite the pop-star straight ahead. She moved like a boy, her face covered by shadows from the snap-back and the hoodie that covered it. She kept me company while Tyler was away, and was disappointed to see me go. She slipped her digits in my pocket; once she was out of sight I handed it to Tyler and he chucked it in the bin.
Tyler caught up to me after his set; we finished the evening in V.I.P, sharing free drinks with the wild cast of some new reality show. I had never been the possessive type, and in any case Tyler's career wouldn't allow it; he danced with all the girls he pleased. If anything it was a turn-on, locking eyes with him as he did our favorite thing with someone else.
Later, as I stood off to the side, waiting for Tyler to flag down a taxi, a man approached from the club's entrance - young and handsome, dressed like a businessman enjoying himself after hours. In fact, before he even said a word he handed me his card with a wolfish grin.
"You're a dancer. I've seen your videos on YouTube--you're incredible. If you're ever looking for a stage, call me." Hands in his pockets, he strode away down the semi-crowded walk.
Tyler reappeared; I threw my head back, laughing at his goofy dance moves and the stares they earned.
"Who was that?" Tyler took my hand, walking backwards as he lead me to the cab.
"Just a fan," I replied, lips zipped as I slipped the card in my pocket. I had recognized the name on front - a famous strip joint. But the only stripping I did that night was for Tyler.
Climbing the steps to his pool-sized jacuzzi tub, I took my time un-doing the sheer silk robe as Tyler waited patiently below. Both arms draped along the tub's rim, one hand gripping a bottle of Krug Vintage he reclined, nodding to the music as he enjoyed the show. Vanilla tealights kept the darkness at bay, flickering all around as Tyga's voice filled the bathroom.
The robe hanging off my shoulder, I stepped into warm, bubbling water the color of emerald eyes, fabric trailing behind as I sank lower. Like a harem girl, I crawled to him on hands and knees, settling delicately in his lap. Swaying to the music, I ran my fingers through his hair, pulling him in but never getting too close, teasing like a stripper.
Tyler trailed his finger softly up, between my breasts, hooking the tiny bomb sitting with the other chains. "See? You look good in diamonds."
"It's too much."
"Blaspheme. One day, you'll have everything..." Tyler shifted with purpose and I stifled a cry a he pushed through the only wall between us. Hands on his smooth, defined chest, I caught my breath, reeling from the sweet explosion. "You were there for me--when my parents split, when my dad was pushing me around, when I won Epic and everything changed..." He pushed, all the way - and froze. My jaw dropped as I gasped, my entire body trembling in his hands. "I only wanna share this with you, Ali."
Tyler's needs were silver-tongued and honey-sweet. How could I say no? I leaned for a taste and he dodged my attempts, drawing out the inevitable in delicious agony.
"Sadist," I accused. "You only brought me to New York so you could torture me."
"Masochist." Grinning, he pressed his forehead to mine. "You stay because you like it." His charming green eyes promised me more. "Enjoy it; I want you to. When your mom died, you lost everything; I want the rest of your life to be beautiful. And shiny." Hooking the gold chains at my neck, Tyler pulled me in for a kiss sweet like the bubbly, urging my hips back and forth with his hands.
"Tell me again," I said, holding his perfectly unshaven face, falling for the portrait of his utmost concentration. Foamy water sloshed the sides of the tub, Tyler gripping the rail as we kept the rhythm. "That part, when you said I can have it, that it's not too much." I needed to hear it, as badly as I needed to feel him inside me.
"It's yours, Aaliyah." Tyler's upturned gaze never wavered as he promised me the world. "Everything."
ओह! यह छवि हमारे सामग्री दिशानिर्देशों का पालन नहीं करती है। प्रकाशन जारी रखने के लिए, कृपया इसे हटा दें या कोई भिन्न छवि अपलोड करें।
Thank you so much for the VOTES!!! More WZAP ahead! <3
