Dominate Showbiz: Media Tycoon Discovered My Talent-Chapter 55: Giving You My Song [M]

[Warning: This Chapter contains Explicit Mature Content]

Kaija pinched the bridge of her nose. Did this world-class superstar really just knock out on her couch so easily, so guiltlessly like that?

She walked over and poked his cheeks. No reaction. She pinched his nose shut. Still no reaction. His mouth just parted slightly and kept gasping for air instead. Now her frustration shot through the roof. She sighed, deciding to just let him be and go to sleep.

As she straightened up and turned away, his hand suddenly shot up, seized her wrist, and yanked her down. The next second, she found herself on the couch, sandwiched in between his arms and legs like a human body pillow.

"What the actual fuck, Karl Hanski?!" she squealed, wiggling frantically to get free, but his limbs weren’t just long, they were a lot heavier than how slender they seemed.

On top of that, it seemed Karl wasn’t even awake at all when he pulled her down so decisively like that. No matter how much she squealed and thrashed, he just kept sleeping soundly, his chest rising and falling steadily against her back to his every breath.

"Karl, wake up," she scowled, "this is not your bed and I am not your pillow. Wake up! Wake up!"

She pinched his thigh, bit his arm, tickled his sensitive spots — still, no use. Fifteen minutes later, she gave up fighting altogether. Turns out Karl Hanski could turn into a full-on corpse when he slept. Even if the entire building were on fire, he probably wouldn’t wake up.

The next morning, when Karl had finally had enough of sleep and rose from his corpse state, the first thing he felt was something soft, long, and featherlike clinging to his arms and brushing faintly against his face. It wasn’t just soft — it also smelled good and sweet, like roses mixed with vanilla. He buried his face deeper into it, nudging his nose further into that softness and inhaling more of it.

If every morning in those cold, lonely five-star hotels during tour season could start like this, he wouldn’t complain. He’d actually endure singing those trashy pop songs and extend the tour without protest.

He squeezed the sweet-smelling pillow closer, his hands started wandering, and that’s when he realized the thing in between his arms wasn’t exactly a pillow.

His body pillow was always puffy and comfy. Why was this pillow so... bony? Only the part pressed against his morning wood and the part his hand was squeezing were soft. Reluctantly, his eyelids lifted slightly. What met his eyes were loose strands of light honey blonde hair and the porcelain skin on the back of that person’s neck.

His eyes widened instantly. The last thing he remembered from the night before was relaxing on that ugly white couch in Kaija Sepala’s tasteless flat, listening to the soft, wistful melody she sang.

Her voice was hauntingly deep and nostalgic, like an alluring pull into the depths of some bottomless ocean. Like a mermaid, she kept dragging him deeper and deeper, her lyrics brushing against his nerves and teasing his heart. Before he knew it, his head had gone light as he sank deeper into that irresistible, melancholic embrace.

Now, Karl found himself squeezing the mermaid’s full, soft breast under his hand, her nipple hard and pointy against his finger through the thin silk of the light blue pajama blouse she wore. Even worse, he could feel all the blood in his body rushing straight to his already hardened morning erection, throbbing faintly and irritably under his two layers of pants. He released her breast immediately and recoiled away from her body, completely flustered from his neck all the way to his face.

"What... what... what... what the actual fuck?" he panted, staring at the girl sleeping so soundly, so obliviously to everything he’d done.

He scrambled off the sofa at once, terrified he might wake her and make the scene even more awkward than it already was.

"Jeez, did she snuggle into my arms, or did I do something?" he muttered, running a hand through his hair and rubbing his face in frustration.

He hadn’t been drunk, so what the hell could he have done last night? Hopefully nothing at all, or else it’d be a professional disaster. Now he had no choice but to wait for her to wake up to confirm he hadn’t done anything and clear all doubts.

Luckily, around 6:15, her alarm went off and Kaija stirred on the couch. She opened her eyes to Karl’s scowling face hovering over her, a cup of coffee in his one hand and her phone in the other.

Taking a sip and switching off the alarm, he muttered lowly, "Wake up, birdie. We need to talk."

Startled, Kaija recoiled into the corner of the couch with a horrified look. The first thought that hit her was, "Hell yes, we need to talk about your manners in my flat and your horrible sleeping behavior, mister."

"You want to talk about—" she muttered, then her brow furrowed at the sight of the red cup in Karl’s hand. "Hey, is that my coffee you’re drinking?"

"Did I do something to you?" he asked, totally ignoring her questions, his expression suddenly serious.

"Oh, you surely did, the great Karl Hanski," she grumbled with a mocking tone, arms crossed tight over her chest. "You were supposed to listen to my song and leave, but instead you slept on my couch, turned me into a human body pillow, almost crushed me to death with your giant body, and now you’re drinking my precious coffee in my most favorite cup. All without my permission! At least have some decency and make me a cup, hello?" 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

Karl finally let out a sharp, relieved breath. So nothing actually happened last night. "Thank God. I thought my taste had dropped that badly," he muttered, clicking his tongue. Then he handed her the cup. "Just drink this. I made it, so it’s good."

She shot him a lethal glare, snatched the cup, and took a sip. Immediately, her brows knitted together. That was the suckiest coffee she’d ever tasted.

"Would you please be gone?" she muttered, shoving the cup back into his hand and getting up from the couch. "I have to leave for my dance session soon, and my instructor doesn’t tolerate late students."

"Hey, wait!" he called after her, tone annoyed. "Aren’t you gonna ask for my opinion on the song?"

"What’s your opinion good for?" she said, heading toward the bathroom without looking back. "It’s already Liisi’s now. I’m done with the festival. I don’t need your opinion. I only let you listen because I was too kind, and you were too good at using that cute face of yours. Now will you please leave?"

Karl’s tongue stiffened. Did she just call him cute? Still, he wasn’t planning on giving up. "Hey, I still think you’ve got what it takes to win."

The seriousness in his tone made her paused mid-step. She threw him a doubtful glance over her shoulder. "Even so, it’s too late. The festival’s less than two weeks away. I can’t write a new one, record it, and prep everything."

His angelic face curved into a confident smile. He lifted the cup again, sipping casually as he said, "What if I give you a song I’ve already written?"