Until We Burn

by Courtney Cole

  The two blondes are topless and Amy is in the middle, dressed only in a red leather corset.

  My dick tightens in pants.

  Tally slams into me from behind, since I’ve stopped dead-still in the aisle and he swivels around me to see what the hold-up is. I hear him suck in his breath.

  “You’re a fucking lucky son-of-a-bitch, Kinkaide,” he mutters. “I’ll just…stay up here.”

  I don’t answer. Instead, I take a step, then another.

  “What’s this?” I ask nonchalantly, staring down at Amy’s upturned face. She reaches out and trails her fingers down my thigh.

  “Oh, this?” she asks innocently, glancing at her two friends. “These are my assistants and I’m going to loan them to you for the evening, as well. Anything you need, just ask. They’ll be happy to oblige. And me? I’m in a rare accommodating mood, too. Whatever you desire, no matter what it is… ask. And it’s yours.”

  And now I’m amused. Amy Ashby is stooping to this? For what? Just to fuck me? I have a growing suspicion that it’s less the driving need to fuck me and more about saving her wounded ego because I don’t seem to want to. Her ego is the biggest thing about her.

  “Well,” I smile. “This could be an interesting evening.”

  Amy smiles back and pats the seat next to her. The blonde to her left moves over, giving me space to sit. When I do, they each loop a leg over one of mine, effectively holding me down.

  “Would you like a drink?” the other blonde whispers to me, her full lips mere centimeters from my ear.

  “Yes,” I answer. “Whiskey. Neat.”

  “Done,” she answers. She slips away and while she’s gone, her blonde friend massages my thigh, then slips her fingers around to my lower back, soothing my tired muscles.

  Within minutes, the other girl comes back with a glass of whiskey on a tray, and a black velvet blindfold.

  “Amy wants you to wear this,” she says softly. “Let me help you with it.” Bending forward, her soft tits envelop my face as she slides the blindfold over my head. I inhale her feminine scent, soft and flowery.

  “Now what?” I ask as I lean back, totally blind.

  “Now, enjoy your flight,” the girl says brightly.

  And I fully intend to.

  But as they softly stroke my back, my thighs, my face, my chest… their soothing touches have the opposite effect on me than they intend. Because I’ve been up and on-set for ten hours today, I’m exhausted.

  Instead of turning me on, their soothing touches put me to sleep.

  When I wake, we’ve landed in Amsterdam and Amy is glaring at me from across the plane.

  “Seriously?” she demands. “I went out of my way to plan the perfect evening for you. I have everything you could possibly want on board this plane… and you went to sleep? What the hell, Dominic?”

  I can’t help but grin at this, just a little. She’s pissed.

  “I’m sorry,” I tell her as soothingly as I can. “I’m exhausted and jet-lagged. It’s not a reflection on you. Or of your sexy assistants.” I glance at them and find that they’re fully clothed now. “I’m sorry,” I tell them. “I didn’t meant offend you.”

  They both smile warmly. “Not a problem,” one says. “We’ll can pick up where we left off later.”

  I glance at Amy and raise an eyebrow. “Later?”

  She nods in satisfaction.

  “I told you… you’ll fuck me by the time this night is over. We’re all going to Sin’s party. And we all know… if something freaky doesn’t happen at one of his parties, then it’s not meant to happen.”

  I have to give her that. My brother’s parties are beyond the normal….so far beyond the norm that they’re off the map.

  I nod, not committing, but not declining, either.

  As we deplane, I have a brief memory, a fleeting vision of one other time, years ago, when I’d been at a party and had gotten the worst phone call of my life. The night that had changed my life forever. The night that had crushed my heart into ash.

  I reach into my pocket, twisting the pendant round and round in my fingers.

  I can’t feel anything, not anymore. So what I have to do is go through the motions. And if that means trying to do crazy, kinky, sexual things just to be able to feel something, I’ll do it.

  Because honestly, I haven’t decided what’s worse: not being able to feel something, or being so stuck in the pain of the past that I’m paralyzed with it. For six years, I’ve held out the hope that I’ll come around. That the pain will stop. That I’ll miraculously become normal.

  But slowly, I’m coming to terms with the fact that it isn’t going to happen.

  I’m not normal.

  There’s no use pretending to be.

  And if I’m going to hell for all the shit that I do, I might as well make the crime fits the punishment.

  Until I burn in hell, I might as well make every single moment worth it.

  Starting tonight.

  Chapter Six

  Sin’s penthouse suite is the entire top floor of a glitzy hotel in the center of the city. Sin never does anything understated. He prefers to be the center of attention at any given time and he always pulls it off with panache.

  Amy, me and her two ‘assistants’ push through the throngs of people lounging, dancing and chattering throughout these rooms. Scantily clad people, half naked people. Drunk people. High people. All kinds of people.

  “Where’s your brother?” Amy calls over her shoulder to me. I look around. I don’t see him anywhere.

  “Let’s check his bedroom. He never lets anyone in there…except for certain women.”

  And by certain, I mean whichever women he chose from the crowd at his show. His bouncers would’ve plucked the girls from the throngs, given them backstage passes and then accompanied them to Sin’s after party. It’s just what he does. And he never gets tired of it.

  When we tap on his door and he answers in only his jeans, I can see two naked women in his bed over his shoulder. And I know I’m right.

  “Dude,” he mutters. “Could you have worse timing?”

  “Did I interrupt something?” I grin innocently. Sin scowls at me.

  “Jesus. First you miss my show, then you cock block me. Nice, bro.”

  I chuckle as Sin throws his door open wide, motioning us inside. “You might as well come inside,” he mutters. Then he glances behind me at Amy and her two friends, and his manner changes. He instantly becomes Sin Kinkaide, charming chick magnet.

  “Hello, ladies,” he drawls. Amy smiles at him, unfazed by his celebrity status and blatant sexual energy. Her friends, however, are not. They blush and become instantly on edge. Sin grins.

  “I’ve got a private party goin’ on in here,” he tells them, still grinning. Still shirtless. “It’s very exclusive. Only the most beautiful women in the city get to attend. Would you like to come in?”

  They’re in awe now, flattered by the invitation, and without a backward glance, they step into his room. As he closes the door, I see the two girls in the bed scoot over to make room for the two new girls.

  I turn to Amy, shaking my head.

  “Well, you lost your accomplices.”

  She rolls her eyes and grabs a glass of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter. Running her tongue along the rim, she stares at me over it.

  “You don’t need them. All you need is me, Dom. By tonight, you’ll realize that.”

  Before I can answer or refute that statement, she gazes past me, intent on something across the room.

  “Hmmm. There’s Tara Linwood. I’ll be back in a minute. Think about me while I’m gone.”

  As she brushes past me to chat with the up-and-coming actress across the room, she pushes something into my hand. Glancing down, I see that it’s her panties, a tiny piece of silk and lace meant to turn to me on.

  It doesn’t. I prefer my women pantiless… or in red silk. I lay the panties on a nearby table, next to a bowl of mints. They should
brighten someone else’s day. Oddly enough, knowing that Amy is pantiless now across the room doesn’t turn me on, either. Which means that it’s probably time to end things.

  It’s just as well that she chose to give me this ultimatum.

  I get bored very easily and apparently, even bitchy A-list actresses don’t hold my attention long.

  As I walk toward the open balcony, a young waitress catches my eye from across the room, her eyes lighting up as she recognizes me. She quickly tries to hide her excitement, to act professional and nonchalant as she offers me a drink from her tray, but it’s too late. I already saw it.

  And I’m filing it away for later.

  I’ll probably be here for several hours. I might get bored later.

  For now, I settle onto a cushioned seat in the corner of the darkened veranda, staring down at the bright lights of the city.

  From this position, I can see everything I want to see. I can observe party guests and their drunken behavior, I can look down upon the city, and I can stay to myself and not interact with anyone.

  It’s a win-win situation.

  This is how I stay, winning in my little dark corner, drinking glasses of whiskey, until Tally arrives. He knows just where to hunt for me, his gaze scanning the perimeter of the party as he steps inside the suite.

  He knows he’ll always find me in the shadows.

  “Where’s Amy?” he asks, dropping into the seat across from me and motioning for a waiter to bring him a drink.

  “Somewhere with Tara Linwood,” I answer. I glance around, but don’t see her.

  Tally shakes his head. “You’re not going to be happy about this. But. The studio doesn’t want you to end things with her. It’s good for the film if people think you’re dating. They want to see an onscreen couple who is actually dating in real life. If you’re still thinking of breaking up with her, don’t.”

  I stare at him, my hard gaze icy.

  “I do what I want. I don’t let the studio dictate to me who I date and who I don’t. I’ve never been that way and I never will be.”

  Tally sighs. “I knew you were going to say that. You and your brothers are the stubbornest sons-of-bitches I know.”

  The corner of my mouth tilts up, just a bit.

  “Well good. I’m glad you know where I stand.”

  “But you’ll still have to pretend that you’re together,” Tally tells me firmly, pressing another drink into my hand. “And if you can’t stomach that, then you’ll have to figure out a way to make her end things with you. Let her be the one to bring the studio’s wrath down on her head. Not you.”

  I can’t help but chuckle a little. “I’m sure I could find a few ways to piss her off.”

  Tally levels a gaze at me. “But not anything obvious. You can‘t be seen as a dickhead, either. Always, always always…. Keep your public persona forefront in your mind. You are mysterious. You are sexy. You are a gentleman. You are private. All of these things are fine. Maintain that image. Do not appear to be a dickhead. Got it?”

  I nod. “I can do that. Besides, she already gave me an ultimatum. Sleep with her tonight, or we’re done.”

  Tally raises an incredulous eyebrow. “You haven’t slept with her yet? What the fuck? Are you made of stone?”

  Before I answer, we both look up to see Amy and Tara stumbling from the bathroom together. Amy’s nose is red, a sure sign that they were snorting coke. I personally know it’s one of the ways she stays so slim. They’re both stumbling, a sure sign that they’re drunk, as well.

  An idea forms, hard and fast.

  A brilliant idea.

  No one puts Dominic Kinkaide in a corner. No one gives me ultimatums and expects to win.

  I am not controlled.

  Not now, not ever.

  But first things first.

  I watch Amy and Tara collapse into one big chair together, giggling and chattering as they furtively glance around the room. I know they’re probably cutting down everyone here. Both women are complete catty bitches.

  They bore me.

  So I motion to the young waitress, the girl who was starstruck earlier.

  “Excuse me,” I say to her smoothly, putting my hand on her arm as she passes. She stares down at me, her green eyes wide.

  “Yes?” she stutters.

  “Where is the bathroom?” I ask politely, although I know perfectly well where it is.

  She points in the direction. “Right there.”

  “Could you possibly show me the way?” I ask, my voice as smooth as honey. “I don’t want to get lost.”

  Her eyes widen as she realizes what my intentions probably are and then she smiles broadly. “Of course. I’d be happy to show you.”

  She puts her tray down on the table in front of me, because she knows she won’t be needing it.

  And then I lead her to the bathroom. Amy watches me in amusement from her chair, but she doesn’t get up or react. She knows me. She likes watching me with other women anyway.

  In fact, a few minutes later as the waitress is kneeling in front of me, the doorknob jiggles and I hear Amy’s voice.

  “Dom? I want to come in.”

  Of course she does.

  She wants to watch, because she’s as kinky as I am.

  But instead of unlocking the door, I grasp the willing waitress’ hair, and guide her into deep-throating me, her lips forming a perfect wet vacuum around me.

  “Not now, Amy. I’m a little preoccupied,” I call toward the closed door.

  I can hear her bitching as she walks away.

  It doesn’t matter. At the moment, all that matters is this blow job.

  I’ll deal with Amy later.

  But I will deal with her.

  Chapter Seven

  “You took long enough,” Amy whines when I finally come out of the bathroom and find her. She’s sitting with Tara on the veranda, in the darkened corner that I had recently vacated.

  Tara looks up at me, her eyes glazed over in a drug-induced haze. I sigh, seeing only the talent that she’s getting ready to waste. I’ve seen it a hundred times. Actresses come into the industry, show so much promise and then self-implode on their way to the top. I can see right now Tara Linwood won’t last.

  “I don’t rush,” I shrug my shoulders. “But I’m ready to go now.”

  Amy lifts an eyebrow. “Oh, really? And where are you ready to go?”

  I grin. “Someplace where the lights are red.”

  Amy’s eyes widen as she realizes what I’m talking about. The infamous Red Light district in Amsterdam, where prostitution is legal and kink of any nature can be bought.

  She grins. “You surprise me, Dom. I wouldn’t think that you’d risk getting seen someplace like that. You know the paparazzi are everywhere.”

  I shake my head. “We’ll be careful. Are you in?”

  She nods. “Of course. I’ll bring Tara.”

  I glance at her friend, who is now leaning on Amy’s shoulder.

  “Can she walk?” I ask dubiously. Amy scowls at Tara, before pushing her off her shoulder.

  “We’ll find out.”

  She yanks Tara to her feet and together, they stumble toward the door. I watch for just a second before shaking my head.

  This is going to be too easy.

  For one split moment, I almost feel guilty, but then I tamp that emotion down. Amy deserves no pity. I’ve seen her verbally lash