Mister Dick, page 9
I could see Ali shaking her head, more than a little nervous. I’d been known to blow my cool from time to time.
The girl in red held up her press packet. “I’m a reporter.”
“Then you should be reporting on the event and all the good it will do, not worrying yourself about the personal details of the lives of those of us who are here to support.”
“Oh, I am,” she replied quickly. “One more question?”
My smile was like concrete by this point, but there were too many people watching and listening and snapping photos for me to tell her exactly what I felt, which would be to fuck right off.
“Sure.”
“Is it true you and Boyd Appleton are hooking up?”
Here we go. This chick was good. She’d reeled me in with her innocent look and eager-to-please smile. But I was better. I took a few steps toward her, Ali following behind like a nervous mother hen.
“I’m not sure who I’m hooking up with or not hooking up with has anything to do with funding animals shelters so our little furry friends have a safe place to live until they’re adopted out. It’s about raising money, and I’m good at that.” I looked at the other reporters and photographers and smiled. “Am I right, guys?”
They all nodded and murmured among themselves. I knew they were dying to know the answer, but for once were too polite to ask.
“Who are you hooking up with?” I asked.
The look on her face was priceless.
“What? You’re not having sex? You feeling a little left out?”
“Oh no,” Ali moaned behind me.
“I’m not…” Nervous, the reporter stumbled over her words. “I mean, that’s none of your business.”
“Exactly,” I replied, leaning in close enough to whisper and have her hear it. “But just so you know, Boyd Appleton is the best lay I’ve ever had.” I turned away from her, suddenly done with this game, but paused when I heard her voice, sounding a little too satisfied.
“Is that what you’re going to tell him when you see him inside?”
Shit.
And fuck.
This chick was better than me.
I ignored her and headed into the event. As soon as we cleared the doors, I turned to Ali. “Is she right?”
My assistant looked confused. “About what?”
“Boyd,” I hissed under my breath. “I didn’t see him on the list. Is he here?”
“I don’t know. Let me ask Joan.” She looked at her phone and fired off a message while I fiddled with my hair, which didn’t need fiddling, and smoothed out my pants, which didn’t need smoothing.
People shouted my name, and I smiled, an automatic gesture, all the while watching Ali. Her eyes were glued to her phone, and when she looked up, her expression was guarded. Like she was afraid I’d pounce. Or cause a scene.
“Just tell me.”
She nodded. “He’s on the list. Looks like he was a last-minute addition. He and some guy named Malcolm James.”
Are you kidding me? I think my mouth fell open. Or maybe it just felt like it. Why in hell was Boyd here? Was God punishing me for being a selfish pain-in-the-ass human? I wasn’t ready for him. I’d barely processed what had happened at the cabin.
Shit. I turned in a full circle, prepared to run because that was how much the thought of him affected me. Screw the fundraiser. To hell with the poor little fluff balls who’d be euthanized or thrown out in the cold snow. I had my own shit to deal with.
Some guy came up to me. I’m sure he was handsome and hot and successful. He looked the part. I saw his mouth move and knew he was talking to me, but Jesus, my survival instincts kicked in, and he became nothing but white noise.
I needed a plan. Needed some time. A couple of years, at least.
But it was too late. Of course it was too late.
I felt Boyd before I saw him. Like a whisper of air that rolled over my skin and left his imprint behind. When I saw him, I pretty much went down in flames, like I’d been shot out of the sky. Like I was falling and there was no one to catch me. And the whole time, people stared. Taking pictures. I sensed their glee and curiosity at the thought something might happen.
He stood several feet away, a throng of people around him, vying for his attention. Models. Actors. Athletes. Socialites. His pull was that strong.
He was dressed in faded jeans, kick-ass boots, and a leather jacket that had seen better days. With his hair all over the place, a five-o’clock shadow, and dark eyes hooded, he looked like every girl’s fantasy. A slow, dull throb began down below, which was inconvenient.
Boyd Appleton looked dangerous as hell. He looked like a predator.
He looked hungry.
My mouth went dry, and I’m pretty sure I squeaked.
He was looking at me.
14
Boyd
I tried to play it cool and act like the guy who had his shit together. But seeing Echo was like a punch to the gut. My reaction was that physical. It threw me off-balance, and I had to take a moment.
I kept my eyes on her. Some Hollywood wannabe was hanging off her, trying to get her attention, and that pulled at something in me. Something primal. I wanted to pound my chest like fucking Tarzan and drag her off to some dark corner where we could do all the things I’d been thinking of since the cabin.
Someone tugged on my arm and, pissed off, I turned to the woman in question. Angie? Angel? I had no idea who she was other than a model I’d banged last time I’d been to New York. She’d pretty much been glued to my side since I’d arrived. Malcolm said he’d take her off my hands, but he disappeared about fifteen minutes ago, and I had no idea where he was.
Wingman my ass.
By the time I extricated myself from Anita, Echo was gone.
Fuck. Me.
The place was huge, and there had to be at least one thousand bodies packed inside. I spotted Lyric near the bar and headed in her direction, ignoring those who called my name or tried to get my attention.
She was surprised to see me, no way she could hide that, and I scooped her into a big hug, genuinely happy to see her face. I set her back down and drank her in. Man, she looked a hell of a lot different from the Lyric I was used to. I guess my expression said what I was thinking, because she blushed and shrugged.
“Echo’s glam squad caught me at a weak moment.”
“You look gorgeous as hell.” I gave her one more hug and caught sight of Malcolm a few feet away. I motioned him over and introduced him to Echo’s sister.
Lyric shook his hand and blushed when Malcolm was slow to release it. I gave him a look that said back the hell off, and with a grin, he did just that. She turned to me, and I saw the question before she asked it.
“Echo doesn’t know you’re here.”
“She does now,” I replied. “I just saw her, but she disappeared before I had a chance to speak to her.”
Lyric was silent for all of two seconds. “And what is it that you need to say to her?”
I hid a grin. The youngest Mansfield had always been shy, the kind of kid who liked to hide in the background and wouldn’t speak unless spoken to. But this here version, well, she was all grown up, and though she hadn’t lost that hint of innocence she’d always had, she sure as hell was a lot more confident.
I liked this new version.
“We’ve got some unfinished business.”
“Are you going to hurt her?”
I was annoyed she’d even ask something like that. But based on our history, I got it.
“No.”
She seemed to consider my answer and then, after accepting a tall glass of champagne from a passing waiter, motioned for me to follow.
“You got this?” Malcolm asked. “I think your pal Anita needs some attention. I can’t stand the sight of that there pout. She looks like a goddamn blowfish. I might have to do something about it.”
“Have at it.” Malcolm was a horn dog, and I was pretty sure that blowfish pout would be wrapped around his cock before the night was done.
I followed Lyric through the crowd and up the stairs to the right. We kept going until we reached the upper balcony, where there was another bar but the crowd was significantly lighter. I spotted Echo at about the same time I saw her ex, Aiden, stumble up to her.
“That’s not good,” Lyric said, coming to a full stop. “He’s a bad drunk.”
“Don’t worry, I got this.”
“Just remember, it’s a charity thing, Boyd.” Her voice rang in my ears as I pushed my way through the crowd. When I finally reached Echo, I could see the two of them were already getting into it. Asshole Aiden kept trying to grab her arm, but the guy was so loaded, she easily kept out of his reach. They both looked up when I planted myself inches away.
“Are you okay?” I asked, watching the play of emotion run across her face. This girl had a hard time keeping her stuff inside. It was one of the things I liked about her. She nodded slowly.
“He’s really drunk,” I said quietly.
“I can handle Aiden.”
She smelled as good as she looked, and I took another step forward, but Aiden got in my face.
“Thissa private con…a conversation, asshoe.” His words came out slurred, he hardly made sense, and the glassy eyes told me he was on more than just booze.
“Why don’t you move away from Echo and get your shit together.” I kept my voice light, but I was itching for the bastard to do something—anything—to set me off.
“Why don’t you fuck off?” His face scrunched up, and he tried to chest bump me, but missed by several inches. I caught him, or he would have ended up on his ass.
“I’m doing you a favor by giving you a choice. Leave now on your own, or I’ll kick your ass out.”
“I like ta see ya try.”
The thing about drunk and stoned douchebags is that they have an inflated sense of what they can do. I had about six inches and at least fifty pounds on the guy, and he thought he could go toe to toe?
“Aiden, just leave.” Echo yanked on his arm, and he reacted by taking a swing at her. I caught him before he made contact, which was lucky for him because I would have flattened the asshole if he’d touched her. Security showed up just in time, and I handed him off.
We’d attracted more attention than I wanted, so I grabbed Echo’s hand and led her to the shadows that draped the far corner balcony. It was dark, and no one could see us here.
“Can we talk?” I asked.
“Why?” she asked, watching me intently.
“Do I need to spell it out?”
She looked at the floor. Then over my shoulder. At the ceiling.
She was looking everywhere except at me. I slid my hand along her jaw and gently applied enough pressure so she had no choice but to look up. And there it was again. That punch to the gut.
I smiled. I couldn’t help myself.
After a few moments, she sighed, though her eyes were closed off and her body language was all wrong. “Why are you here, Boyd?”
“I have a soft spot for cats.”
“I would have pegged you as a dog man.”
“Nope. I’m all about the felines.”
“You drove to New York because you like cats.” Her eyes narrowed.
“Flew.”
“What?”
“I was at the farm in Tennessee. I flew.”
“Okay, you flew all the way to New York City because you like cats?”
“I flew all the way to New York City because I can’t stop thinking about you.” Bingo. Her eyes widened, and that delicious tongue of hers slipped out and licked at the corner of her mouth.
“Thought I’d write a big fat check while I was here.”
“Because you like cats.”
“Because I like cats.” I dipped my head, my mouth seeking that sweet spot just below her ear. “Because I like you.”
I heard her breath catch and couldn’t help myself. I sank my hands into all that hair and, before she could say a word, claimed the mouth that had haunted me for the last week. She opened up for me, and I took control, my body hungry for more.
Her lips were soft, and she tasted like strawberries. With a groan, I went deep, my tongue seeking out the secrets she kept, my teeth nipping at her bottom lip. She gave as good as she got, her hands on me, her body pressed as close as two people could be, and that tongue dancing with mine. The kiss was hot and passionate and wild.
When we finally broke away from each other, both of us were breathing heavily. I held on, though, my hands still buried in the silky hair that floated around her shoulders.
“Let’s get out of here,” I said, sounding a little bit rough and a whole lot horny.
“I can’t.” She licked her lips and shook her head. “We can’t…”
I looked her in the eye, not in the mood for games. I knew she felt exactly the same as I did, and I knew this fire was only going to burn brighter and hotter the longer we did this dance.
“This is going to happen. You and me.” I pushed her up against the wall, and my hand sought out the softness between her legs. I felt the heat through her pants and pressed my palm against her, rubbing in a slow circular motion, smiling at the sight of the fever that crept over her face.
“We can have sex here in the dark or back at your place.” I nipped along her neck, loving the way she arched into me. “Your choice.”
I applied more pressure, my hand cupping all of her as she opened her legs just enough to give me the access I needed. “That feel good?” I whispered in her ear, pressing into her, creating the kind of friction she needed.
“You know it does.” Her voice was soft, barely audible. “But you have to stop.” She inhaled a deep, ragged breath before whispering, “Please.”
Something about her tone got to me, and the sexual haze that had clouded my brain began to fade. She wanted me. But she wasn’t into it.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, taking a step back. “I know you feel this.”
She was silent for a few moments, and just when she opened her mouth to respond, someone behind us cleared their throat. I angled my head for a look and spied a tiny brunette with two phones, one in each hand. She couldn’t see Echo, not all of her anyway, and I arched a brow, more than a little pissed off at being interrupted.
“This is a private conversation.”
“Um, I’m uh…Ali, and I need Echo to come with me.” She stumbled over her words, but I didn’t give a fuck.
“Shit,” Echo whispered, straightening her clothes before she stepped away. “Ali. Hey.”
The little brunette darted a look my way before pointing below. “They need you on the stage.”
“Okay. I’m good. We were just…discussing…something.”
“We’re not done yet,” I ground out.
Ali looked at Echo and then back to me. “Okay. Well, um…” She pointed toward the main level. “They need you in like, five.”
“Okay. Give me one second.”
The girl, Ali, stepped back and turned around, clearly not leaving until she had Echo where she wanted her.
“Who the fuck is that?” I asked, annoyed at the little cock blocker.
Now Echo looked pissed. “Ali is my assistant, and you need to back the hell off and grow some goddamn manners.”
“What does she need you for?” I wasn’t giving in. In fact, the angrier Echo got, the hotter she became. And the more worked up I got.
“There’s a thing I agreed to do. I have to…” She swore and nailed me with hard look. “It’s none of your business, and this right here?” she hissed. “It’s not going to happen.”
She didn’t give me a chance to answer. She turned tail and left, and I had to fight with myself not to follow.
They headed downstairs, and after a few moments, I did the same. I watched from the edge of the crowd as Echo moved to the big stage, and after grabbing a drink, I headed in the same direction. There was a live auction underway, and I leaned against a table, legs crossed as folks with money to burn bid boatloads of the green stuff on stupid shit. Boats and vacations, I could understand, but one guy spent twenty grand on a new set of tits for his wife.
When Echo walked across the stage, the crowd cheered. She waved, did a cute little curtsey, and then looked at the auctioneer. The old guy began his spiel, reading off the card in his hands.
“And now, folks, we’ve got quite the treat. The lovely Echo Mansfield has agreed to let one lucky person out there spend the entire weekend with her at her family’s beautiful plantation home, Live Oaks, in Louisiana. She will be at your beck and call. It’s a one-of-a-kind getaway, and we’ll start the bidding at fifty thousand.
I stood straighter, watching as the bidding evolved into a battle between Nick Greenfield, a quarterback with the Jets, and some creepy old dude I didn’t know. They got as high as four hundred grand, which was Greenfield’s bid, and when the auctioneer did his thing, looking to the old dude to pony up more dough, I raised my hand, and the place went quiet.
“And what is your bid, young man?” the auctioneer asked, his voice giving the right amount of drama to the whole thing.
I looked up at the stage and found Echo’s eyes on me. Her chest rose and fell slowly, and her eyes glittered under the lights.
“One million.”
The crowd gasped. The quarterback swore. And Echo shot a look my way that would have driven a knife through me if she could have.
Malcolm appeared from out of nowhere. He slapped me on the back and handed me a shot of tequila. He winked and shook his head.
“Dude, that’s one way to get a woman alone.”
No shit, I thought, glancing back toward the stage. Echo wasn’t happy. That much was clear.
Too bad we weren’t on the same page.
15
Echo
“I’m not doing it. No way in hell.”
I was so angry, I wanted to throw something. I reached for my phone and swore when I realized I didn’t have it. Then I eyed up Lyric’s but was pretty sure she would wrestle me for it, and even on her worst day, she could take me.
