by Dana Delamar
“There are advantages,” I said, and motioned to the book.
“You mean the… threesomes?” she asked, her voice dropping on the last word, as if it were too scandalous to say aloud.
“Amber certainly seemed to be enjoying them, don’t you think?”
She fanned her cheeks and laughed. “That’s one way to put it.” She took a sip from her teacup. “How do we keep ending up talking about sex?”
“You inspire me,” I said. It was true. I’d dreamed of her last night, coming apart under my tongue. I’d had to rub one out in the shower before breakfast just thinking about it. The images I’d conjured up cycled through my mind again. Paige trembling, her thighs quaking, her hands in my hair, her voice hoarse from moaning my name… Fuck. Now I was hard again. I shifted in my seat, trying to subtly adjust myself in my slacks to take the pressure off my burgeoning cock.
Her cell phone rang. She glanced at the display. “It’s my boss. I have to take this. Excuse me,” she said and hurried off to the lobby. I followed her with my eyes. Paige Sutherland had one fine ass under that tight skirt.
Not helping with the inconvenient erection, Kendrick.
The waiter came back with a plate brimming with sausage, bacon, and eggs, with some fried potatoes on the side. He also handed me a copy of the Daily Mail.
“Perfect,” I said.
“Indeed,” the waiter said, looking me up and down. “I’m Gerry, if you need anything.”
“Thanks, Gerry,” I said.
Gerry jotted something on a notepad, then handed it to me. “Just in case.”
I took the paper and saw the number written on it. “I’m flattered.”
“Call me, and I will be too.”
I pocketed the number and unfolded the newspaper. I started in on the food while flicking through the pages. When I hit the entertainment section, the eggs turned to ash on my tongue. There it was—an article about the movie coming out, and the whole scandal surrounding me and Amber and Holden. There was a photo of the three of us in happier times, accompanied by an inset of Amber and Holden, an obscenely large engagement ring flashing on her finger.
The chair across from me scraped on the hardwood floor, and I quickly folded up the paper. Fuck. All I needed was for Paige to put two and two together and give me the pity face. I didn’t want a pity fuck from her either.
“Don’t bother hiding the article,” a man’s voice said. “I already know it’s you, Riley. Saw you yesterday at the afternoon tea. Not that you noticed me.”
Oh shit. Kenji Tamashiro. I’d gone to college with the guy. We’d even fucked a few times. And then I’d blown him off when he’d asked me for help with finding a literary agent after I’d become famous. Ken could wreck things with Paige for me, and I’d fucking deserve it. “Ken, I didn’t know you were at the retreat too.”
Kenji smirked. “Yeah, you only had eyes for pretty Miss Paige. Didn’t give two shits about the rest of us, did you? Typical.”
“It’s not like that. I—”
“Give me one reason, ‘Carter,’ why I shouldn’t tell everyone, starting with Paige, who you really are.”
My partially eaten meal turned to stone in my stomach. “Look, man, I know I was an asshole to you. And I’m sorry I got caught up in all the attention I was getting. It was all fake. And so was I. I realize that now.”
Kenji crossed his arms. “Do you?”
“I am sorry.”
Ken shook his head and let out a breath, his arms relaxing to his sides. “I want to fucking hate you, but”—he gestured to the newspaper—“I guess you got it in the slats, man.”
“I did.”
“So, you and Amber and Holden? That was really a thing?”
I nodded, my gut knotting up again. Emphasis on “was.” Eight months had passed since our relationship had ended, and part of me still hadn’t accepted that fact.
“So what’s the deal? Are you in denial and using the ‘I’m bi’ excuse?”
I barely held back an eye-roll. “Don’t give me that bi-erasure bullshit. I’m not pretending to be bi. I am. Are you pretending to be gay?”
Ken raised an eyebrow. “Methinks thou dost protest too much, Lady MacBeth.”
“Yeah, yeah. And denial ain’t just a river in Egypt. I’ve heard it all.”
“You wouldn’t be the first guy who liked fucking guys but didn’t want a relationship with one because it was too ‘gay’ for him.”
“That’s not it. I just haven’t found a guy I want to settle down with.” So what is Carter, then? A fuckbuddy?
“I think you’re afraid.”
“I’m attracted to both men and women. I always have been.” I forced a smile. “Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.”
“Sounds complicated.”
“It doesn’t have to be.”
Kenji laughed. “Oh it is. But that’s Riley Kendrick for you. One big complication.”
I nodded. Ken was right about that. I was one big, complicated mess. “So, you’ll keep my secret?”
“For now. We’ll see how long that lasts.” Ken made a show of looking at his watch. “I’m guessing it’ll be a whole ten minutes until you do something shitty.”
I wanted to roll my eyes again, but Ken had a point. I had been a total jerk to the man, too busy getting high and having “fun” to be a decent human being. “I’m not that asshole anymore.”
Kenji held my eyes, his own dark ones reflecting the hurt buried under his attitude. “I hope not. You used to be a great guy, back in the day. When you brushed me off…” He paused, frowning. “I couldn’t believe it.”
Heat flashed up my neck and over my cheeks. “Christ, Ken. I hate thinking about it. You still need help?”
Ken laughed. “You need to pick up Publishers Weekly every now and then. You’re not the only one out there who’s done well. My Victorian gay romance series just got optioned for cable.”
“Wow! That’s fantastic.”
“It is, but no thanks to you.”
I winced. “I deserve that.” I took a sip of my coffee. “It’s probably better that way anyhow.”
“Probably.”
Paige came back to the table. “Sorry I abandoned you,” she said to me, then looked at Kenji. “But it looks like you made a new friend.”
“An old one, actually,” Ken said, standing up and exchanging places with her. “Carter and I did our master’s degrees at the same university.”
“How nice you have this chance to get reacquainted,” Paige said. She sounded like she really meant it. God, I should just leave her alone. She was so… sweet.
I looked at her delicate hand splayed over the cover of Amber’s Conquest.
So sweet and yet, Paige Sutherland had a secret dirty side.
And damn it all, I was going to enjoy every bit of it before our time together was up.
Chapter 3
RILEY
I had to get more time with Paige. I lagged behind as she handed out our tickets to the British Museum as well as virtual tour equipment. There was something about her—maybe it was her take-charge attitude or her apparently genuine interest in ensuring we had a great time—that really attracted me. Of course, she did look pretty spectacular in the fitted sleeveless blouse and narrow flowered skirt she wore with low sandals. It was summery, yet classy. Amber would have gone naked rather than wear something similar. If it didn’t show at least an inch of ass and plunge dangerously low between her oversized tits, she wouldn’t go near it.
A tug on the sleeve of my blazer drew me out of the dark tunnel of my recollections and back into the bright lobby of the British Museum.
“Everything okay?” Paige asked.
I forced a half-smile, one that always worked on my conquests. “Nothing the pleasure of your company wouldn’t cure.”
Her eyes widened and color highlighted her high cheekbones. “Uh... sure.” She cleared her throat and raised her hand, drawing the group’s attention. “Everyone, you’re free to tou
r the museum on your own. Of course, I’m happy to have you join me. Let’s meet back here at four o’clock. Oh, and please call my cell phone if you need me.”
I stuck to Paige’s side as everyone broke off into smaller groups and went inside, leaving me alone with her.
“Looks like it’s just the two of us.” She frowned and adjusted her purse strap over her shoulder. “I guess no one else wanted to hang out with me.”
Or, it might have been the death glare I’d sent to anyone who looked her way. From behind her back, of course. Today, all I wanted was to have pretty Paige to myself.
“Their loss,” I said, taking her arm. “Where do you want to start?”
She unfolded the map of the museum. “What time period are you writing in?”
“Good question.” I rubbed my jaw. I’d only ever written contemporary fiction.
“Why don’t we wander through the second floor first? There might be less people, and it will take us through ancient Egypt, Greece, and Rome, as well as Europe up to present times.”
As we walked up the stairs to the second floor, I rested my palm at the base of her spine, thoroughly enjoying the little catch of breath in her throat when I touched her. She’d made the same noise yesterday, when I’d done it in the lounge.
So responsive. She had no idea how much I loved that.
We entered the first exhibit. “What do you write, Carter? I’m afraid I’m not familiar with your work.”
Christ. She’d gone for the jugular without even realizing it. “A little of this and a little of that.” Hopefully she’d drop the subject.
“Come on,” she said, a teasing note in her voice. “It can’t be ‘a little’ of anything if you’re on this tour. I’d never be able to afford this trip if I wasn’t working it.”
“Total Indulgence doesn’t pay its tour guides well? I might have to complain to the boss.”
“I’m not really a tour guide. I’m actually the marketing director. But…” She glanced at me, then quickly looked away. “This is miles beyond my means.”
I chuckled. “It’s miles beyond mine too. My publisher’s footing the bill.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. Until more money from my books and the movie rolled in, I was as poor as a church mouse.
“They must think you’re very promising then.”
I smirked. “Something like that.”
“You still haven’t told me what you write.” She turned away from the Egyptian mummies on display. Her head tilted to the side and several long strands of sandy-blonde hair fell forward.
Before she could push them back, I caught the strands and let them slide between my fingers as I curled them behind her ear. Pure silk. Shit. Now I wanted to grab a handful and tug her head back so I could lick the pulse in the notch at the base of her throat. I could almost hear her heart pounding in the near-empty room.
I brought my lips to the curve of her ear, inhaling the fruity, floral scent of her perfume. “I write erotic romance,” I whispered, ending with a quick flick of my tongue before pulling back.
Paige pressed a hand to her chest. “You must be very good at it.” The huskiness of her voice and the haze in her eyes went straight to my cock.
Wow. This woman was lethal. Good thing I’d worn tight-fitting briefs, or the tenting in my dress pants would be all too visible. I took off the blazer and folded it over my arm, using it to shield my rebellious dick from her view. I needed to get a handle on my libido before things got out of control and I ended up scaring the crap out of Paige. I had a feeling she was just what I needed to get my writing mojo back.
“Ready to check out the next exhibit?” I asked.
She blinked as though I’d woken her from a dream—or fantasy. Yeah, I’d been having a few of those myself. Me... her… no clothes… a big bed… and… Carter.
Fuck.
What the hell was wrong with me? This woman was ripe for the picking, so why was Carter intruding into my mind? We were taking a break. Nothing that happened on this trip had anything to do with Carter. It was all about me and my muse.
Entering the next exhibit, I spotted some primitive manuscripts that reminded me of what Paige had been reading that morning. “What’s your favorite scene in Amber’s Conquest?” I asked.
“Well, I haven’t finished it yet, but in Amber’s Fall, I really liked that Riley took Amber to the museum on one of their dates. It’s so much more original than going to see a movie.”
I had to laugh at that. Jesus. What Amber and I had done had been so much worse than necking in a movie theater.
“What’s so funny?” Paige frowned.
“Didn’t you figure out what they did at the museum?” The publisher hadn’t let me be too explicit for fear it would get me or Amber arrested.
Stopping, she put her hands on the curves of her shapely hips and stared me down like an errant schoolboy. “They toured the exhibits, like we’re doing now.”
Shit. She was going to have me creaming my pants.
“Ah... no. They had sex.” I looked around the room, suddenly realizing where we were. “In a Greek gallery, much like this one.”
Her eyes rounded. “No!”
“Yes. They got so turned on looking at the erotic etchings, they couldn’t help themselves.”
Her brows furrowed. “How would you know?”
I gulped as my mind raced. Had I included those details in the book, or at least enough to lead the reader to that conclusion? Fuck, I hoped so. “It’s all there in chapter ten.”
“You seem very familiar with Mr. Kendrick’s work.” Her eyes lingered over a rather detailed drawing of a naked man and woman engaged in an intriguing sexual act. Sweat began to gather at the back of my neck.
“He’s one of my favorite authors.” Jesus. Talking about the book had been a really bad idea. Unfortunately, all I knew about Paige was that she liked my writing.
“You must really be looking forward to the release of the movie next month then.”
“More than I can say.”
She smiled at me over her shoulder. “Maybe it will inspire you.”
And keep a roof over my head. Unless I wasn’t able to write again. Then I’d have to use my earnings to repay my advance from Exotica.
As though sensing my change in mood, Paige lightly touched my shoulder. “Are you having writer’s block? Is that why you don’t want to talk about your work?”
I let out a huge sigh, surprising myself at the depth of my feelings about this. I’d told Carter I was fucked up, but could it be more than that? Was I depressed?
I clenched my fists and blew out again. There was no way I’d let Amber and Holden affect me that much. I was Riley fucking Kendrick, and I didn’t fucking do depression.
Writer’s block? Yes.
Depression? Not happening.
“I’m having a little trouble figuring out my next book. My editor suggested this trip to see if a change in direction might work.”
“So you’re hoping to find your muse?”
I winked at Paige. “I think I may have found her.”
Her cheeks reddened again. Could she be any more perfect? I couldn’t remember a single conversation with Amber where she’d taken even the slightest interest in my writing beyond how much money I’d make from it.
When Paige excused herself to use the restroom, I pulled out my phone to check my messages. There was an email from Nora. Nothing from Carter.
Why was I even expecting one? The break had been my idea. I was the one putting the moves on a woman. I was the one getting hard at the thought of taking Paige to my bed. So why did Carter keep entering my thoughts? Was I actually feeling guilty about leaving him behind? That was ridiculous. He understood that I needed this trip. And the need was both personal and professional.
Right now, what I needed most was to know that Carter was all right. Navigating to the messaging app, I sent him a selfie of me with my arm around a bronze sculpture of a rather poorly endowed Greek male.
A few seconds
later my phone pinged.
Carter: Where are you?
Me: At the British Museum. What are you doing? Have you started the books?
Carter: I have.
Me: What part are you at?
Carter: Where Amber is giving you a blow job in your office at the college and there’s another student waiting right outside.
Me: What do you think so far?
Carter: I’d have been hot for teacher too if you’d been my sociology prof (devil emoji)
My cock went from a semi to a hard-on at the image Carter’s words formed in my mind.
Me: Would you have gotten down on your knees for me?
Carter: In a heartbeat.
Jesus. My cock was rock hard now. My balls pulsed with the need to come, and I was stuck in the fucking British Museum for the rest of the afternoon. I was going to die of blue balls. How embarrassing. A couple years ago, nothing would’ve stopped me from rubbing one out in some dark alcove. What had happened to me? Where had that carefree bastard gone?
An idea popped into my head. Looked like the bastard was still around after all. After a quick glance around the room to confirm no one would see me, I went behind the statue and undid the button on my slacks, and pulled my briefs out to snap a photo of my crotch. With a flick of my thumb, I sent it to Carter. That would teach the fucker to turn me on like that.
“They’ve got some really great manuscripts in here.”
Paige. Startled, I jumped and fumbled my phone. It went flying out of my hand and landed face up at Paige’s feet.
“Shit. Fuck.”
Trying to cover my open fly with my jacket at the same time that I lunged for the phone, I failed at both, tripping and sprawling on the floor.
Smirking, Paige gracefully retrieved the phone and stared down at it in her hand, the dick pic clearly visible.
She arched a brow, turning the phone to the left, then the right. Her gaze met mine. “Is this you?”
“No.” Heat blazed up my neck, and I thought for sure my entire head would go up in flames. Angling my back to her, I did up my pants as I got to my feet. With all the things I’d done in my life, the good, the bad, and the oh-so-very ugly, this slip of a woman was making me feel more ashamed than I’d ever felt before.