by Bella Jewel
“How did you know that wasn’t fake?” I say, turning to him and crossing my legs.
His eyes slide down my dress, over my legs and stop at my shoes.
“You didn’t pause,” he says. “Nice shoes.”
Keep cool, Tiani.
“So, what’s a man like you doing sitting here all alone?”
His eyes finally meet mine again. “Same reason as you’re here, I assume.”
“To get fucked?”
Lusty eyes again.
“Precisely,” he grates out.
“Well you’re not doing a very good job trying, are you?”
He shrugs. “I’ve never been good at picking up.”
“Because?” I probe.
“Because I’ve been with a woman for seven years.”
Whoa, Reign’s a committing type. Interesting.
“And now . . .” I say, dragging the sentence out.
“She’s fucking my personal assistant.”
“She’s a lesbian?” I gasp. “Gross. That bitch.”
He snorts. “My personal assistant was a man.”
Ohhhhh.
Poor dude—his wife ran off with his P.A. That’s low.
“Well that sucks. When you say was, you mean . . .” I trail off, staring at him.
“Meaning he got fired, meaning I stripped him of his manhood.”
My eyes widen and I smile wickedly. “Did you cut his penis off?”
His brows go up. “I’m questioning your mental stability again.”
“Well,” I argue, crossing my arms, “how can you strip him of his manhood then?”
“I beat him within an inch of his life, in front of the press.”
Shit, how did I miss that one? I need to watch more television.
“And then I told them all he screwed my fiancée.”
Ouch.
“Burned,” I mutter.
“Something like that.”
“So . . .” I trail off.
“Hmmmm.”
“You know,” I begin, and then I take a deep breath. “I could help you out right now. I could have a woman for you in, say, ten minutes.”
He gives me the eye. “I’m not fucking you. I’m still not convinced you’re not harboring a strange mental disorder.”
“Hey,” I say, crossing my arms. “I’ll have you know I’m quite sane. And I had no intention of fucking you. You’re not my type.”
“What is your type?” he asks, wrapping those big hands around his glass and staring at it again.
“Well, not a broody, damaged, incapable-of-picking-up-females kind of man.”
“Did you just insult me?” he grunts.
“I did. Deal with it,” I say, staring around the room. Plenty of sexy women here. “Now, do you want me to get you laid, or what?”
He shrugs his shoulders. “Go hard. I can’t imagine how you could pick up someone for me.”
“Is that a challenge?” I say, crossing my arms.
He shrugs again and turns back to his whiskey. Broody asshole. I’ll show him.
I slam my glass down, causing him to jerk and turn my way, then I flick my hair and yell, “Don’t be such an asshole about it. I always told you what would happen if you fell for me! Did you really think your gigantic cock, your money and your flashy car would keep me from stroking my needs elsewhere?” I laugh bitterly. “Seriously, you’re too sweet for your own good. Serves you right for falling in love with a whore.”
There is a group of women watching us—exactly what I wanted. Grinning, I go on.
“It’s not your fault. You did everything right. But I didn’t really want all those roses, necklaces and chocolates. I mean, come on, it’s like you were trying to cheapen me up.”
Did Mr. Broody’s mouth just twitch? It’s not possible. That must mean he knows how to smile.
Gasp.
I pull out my business card, pretending it’s a credit card. “Here, you can take your no-limit credit card back. It bores me.”
Then I flick my hair and turn, strutting off. As I pass, I hear some women murmuring. Winner.
I get back to Autumn and her eyes are wide and confused. “What the hell did you just do over there?”
“Watch and learn, baby.”
I watch with a smile as a tall, leggy blonde approaches Reign. They have a conversation, he buys her a drink and I know he’s won. I turn back to Autumn who is gaping at me, then back at the blonde, then back at me again.
“Did you lose your mind? Did a brain cell drop out on your way over there? Why the hell aren’t you fucking Mr. Rich right now?”
I shrug. “He wasn’t my type.”
“As if!” she cries. “He’s everyone’s type.”
I laugh and turn to watch Reign stand, the blonde right by his side. They turn and head towards the exit of the bar. He looks over his shoulder at me before he goes, and I blow him a kiss.
Score one for me.
~*~*~*~
I didn’t get laid.
Nope, instead I got drunk, came home and passed out, and now I’m nursing an aching head and a seedy stomach.
That’ll teach me for handing the good ones over to Barbie look-a-likes. I slide out of my bed, groaning as my head pounds. Why do people drink? I mean seriously, what’s the catch? It makes us crazy, we do stupid things and then we wake up the next day with a headache, a sore stomach and quite possibly, an STD.
I step into my small, but modern kitchen. I wonder if Autumn had any luck last night? After she dropped me home, she went to a bar down the street with a male friend of hers. She’s been hung up on him for two years now, but he doesn’t even notice. Jerk. He doesn’t understand or even want to understand her.
Autumn had a difficult upbringing, and it takes a lot to get her out of her shell. I met her about three years ago, and in that time she’s moved about four times. She’s like a cat on hot bricks all the time. She’s been back here now for the past seven months and so far, she seems to be holding strong. She tells me she just gets bored, but I’m so sure there’s more to it.
Ohhhh, maybe Autumn has a sexy stalker.
I flick on my coffee machine and set it to the strongest setting. I need a serious shot to wake me up. While I wait for it, I shove through the papers on my countertop, trying to find my phone. Frowning when I come up empty, I look around the room trying to locate it. I find it sitting upside-down on my couch.
It can stay there.
I lift my coffee up when it’s finished, and bring it to my lips. Oh God, heaven. Pure heaven. The warm liquid eases the burn in my throat as it slides down, and I let out a content, overly-loud sigh. Then the high-pitched sound of my phone ringing fills the room. Why did I ever set the tone to a bad rip-off of the Crazy Frog?
I rush to the sofa, lifting it into my hand and flipping it over. Unknown number. It might be Autumn using her male friends phone. She always forgets to charge hers. I answer it and press it to my ear, holding my coffee in my free hand.
“Yeah?”
“Tiani?”
Sexy male voice. Definitely not Autumn.
I’m sure I didn’t get lucky last night. Frantically, I search through my already hazy memories. Oh God, did I get lucky and not know about it? There was that super hairy dude that cracked onto me . . . surely I wouldn’t have been that desperate. Ugh.
“Hello?”
Shit, the phone. “Ah, hello.”
“It’s Reign.”
Reign. Golden eyes Reign?
With a relieved smile, I say, “I’ll admit it, Reign. It frightens me that you have my number and I didn’t give it to you. Should I be worried?” I ask, flopping down onto the couch and taking another sip of my coffee.
“You handed me your business card during your little . . . show.”
Right, I did.
“Oh, right. So,” I encourage, “how’d it go?”
“Did I get fucked last night, you mean?”
“Well of course that’s what I mean,” I say, rolling my eye
s. “I wasn’t interested in hearing about you two talking all night and her leaving with a soft kiss to the head.”
He snorts. “It went fine. She was a good lay.”
“Ugh, such a pig thing to say.”
He chuckles.
Oh, wow. That sound.
“I never claimed to be anything but.”
“You make a valid point. So, why are you calling me? Oh, I know. You’re calling to say thank you. No problem, Reign, it was my pleasure.”
He grunts. “Do you always talk so much? It’s giving me a headache.”
“You rang me, buddy,” I point out.
“I rang you because I was impressed with what you did last night and it got me thinking about things. I decided I would like to offer you a job.”
“I was kidding about being a whore,” I say quickly.
“I’m not offering you sex, Tiani.”
“Tia,” I say. “And what are you offering? I run a business. I don’t really need a job.”
“You’re an accountant, and your boss allows you to do all your work from home. You don’t run a business, and this won’t stop you from working.”
“How did you know that?” I mutter. “Are you a stalker, Reign?”
“It isn’t hard to find out. Now that’s beside the point. I have a proposition for you.”
“Does it involve sex?” I question.
He sighs. “Shut up, and I’ll tell you.”
“Fine.”
“I’m offering to pay you to . . . well . . . basically, pick up for me. That, amongst other things.”
“You want me to be your . . . wingman?”
He’s silent for a minute. “I wouldn’t have put it so bluntly.”
“Well,” I laugh, “how would you put it?”
He sighs. “It wouldn’t just be getting women for me, it would also be accompanying me to charities, dinners, and other such formidable events. I don’t like going, but I go because Selena is there.”
“Selena is . . .”
“My ex.”
“Ohhhh,” I drag out. “I get it. You want me to make your ex jealous.”
“I’m not asking you to pretend to be my girlfriend. I’m simply asking you to accompany me.”
“And to get your dick wet on every other day.”
Another snort. “Something like that.”
“You know what my next question will be,” I say, crossing my legs. “Why the hell does someone who looks like you, need someone like me to pick up for you?”
He grunts. “I don’t like to talk, I don’t like to be charming. I’m not a man that can walk into a bar and melt the panties off someone with conversation. I fuck, it’s that simple. You got me an easy lay last night, I didn’t have to think and I certainly didn’t have to charm. I want it to be that easy again.”
“Interesting. Next question. If you’re so keen on getting your ex back, tell me why you’re fucking around?”
He makes a grumbling sound and mutters, “I’m a man. I’m single. It’s not like I’m cheating so I don’t see why it matters. I like to fuck, I have somewhat of an appetite.”
“Are you sure it was your ex that screwed your P.A and not you, with that appetite of yours?”
He growls. “Yes.”
“All right, don’t blow a load. I was only asking. Final question,” I take a deep breath. “Won’t she be, like, super pissed when she finds out you’re sleeping around?”
“She fucked around behind my back and as I said, I’m single for now. It’s not her business. When we work it out, I won’t be doing it anymore.”
“Why do you want her back, if she cheated on you?”
“Clearly you’ve never been in love.”
I snort. “Love is for wimps.”
“Are you finished now?” he sighs.
“Last question, how much?” I say, crossing my legs and leaning back.
“Five thousand a month.”
That has me jerking upright. “Repeat yourself.”
“Five thousand a month. For that amount, you will come whenever I need you—I will take into consideration that you have your own job too. The rest of the time you need to make yourself available. I will purchase any dresses, shoes and accessories you need for events. I will also drive you to and from locations, as well as providing you food and other such luxuries while you are in my presence. On the days I don’t need you and you’re not working, I have a heap of paperwork for the bars that I could use your skills to help with. You know how to do that?”
I huff. “Of course I know how to do that.”
“So, five thousand a month, what do you say?”
My body is screaming yes, yes, yes, but calmly I say, “And how long will this little arrangement last?”
“Until she comes back to me, and when she does, if I like your work, I’m more than happy to keep you doing my books.”
Oh dear.
“And if she doesn’t come back to you . . .”
“She will,” he says, his voice hard.
“Okay, keep your shirt on. Do I have time to think about it?”
“No.”
“Are you always so bossy?”
“Yes.”
“Fine.” I sigh. “I’ll do it, but if I don’t like it, I’m stopping. No contracts.”
“Fine,” he grunts. “It’s a deal.”
It’s a deal.
Shit.
I just became a rich dude’s wingman.
Epic.
CHAPTER TWO
Six months later
The club is pounding when I enter, looking for Reign. He called me here tonight in a less-than-charming mood. He’s having trouble with security in this particular club lately, and he’s all wound up. He needs to get laid, so here I am. I shove through the crowds of people and grinding bodies until I get to the bar. I curl my fingers around the edge of it, sighing. Sheesh, that was an effort.
“Rough night, lady?” Benny the bar attendant says, grinning at me.
“You can say that again, Benny,” I puff. “Where’s Reign?”
“In the back office.”
I nod and step around the bar to find the back halls. Reign’s office is at the back, and the door is shut. Maybe he already got lucky? That would make my night easier. My heels click as I walk down the hall, swishing my hair as I go—I was far too lazy to tie it up tonight.
When I reach Reign’s door, I swing it open without knocking.
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
My eyes widen and drool builds in my mouth. Holy fucking smokin’ biker alert. There are two bikers sitting in the chairs near Reign’s desk. I catch the backs of their leather jackets. They’re obviously from two different clubs. One has Hell’s Knights on the back and the other has Heaven’s Sinners. They both turn and stare over at me, and my legs go weak.
Whoa.
Rawr.
One has blond hair, but it’s that sexy, messy kind. He’s got a chiseled jaw, and these killer brown eyes. He’s to die for. The other has that tall, dark, and handsome look about him. He’s got long, dark hair and stunning blue eyes. He’s older than the blond one, but shit, his age does not change how gorgeous he is.
“Holy biker hotness,” I mumble.
Both men raise their brows and Reign snorts.
“Boys, this is my . . . employee, Tiani,” Reign says, his voice tight. “Tiani, this is my new security team. Meet Spike and Jackson.”
“You hired bikers,” I breathe. “Epic.”
The blond biker, Spike, grins at me. “She belong to you, Braxton?”
Reign’s eyes travel over me, and his jaw tics. “Nope.”
I pout at him and then turn to Spike. “I pick up for him. I’m his wingman.”
Spike laughs, throwing his head back and clutching his belly. Jackson, smokin’ hot Jackson, grins and shakes his perfect biker head.
“You’re fuckin’ shittin’ me, right?” Spike chuckles.
“Excuse me, biker,” I say, putting my hands on my hips, “but
I will have you know that Reign here keeps his dick nice and wet because of my work.”
“You’re fuckin’ serious, aren’t you?” Jackson says, looking a little shocked.
“I’m deadly serious.” I smile, crossing my arms.
“She up for hire? I got a few boys that need a good lay.” Spike grins, winking at me.
“No, she ain’t,” Reign says, giving me a warning look.
“You ever need a job, darlin’,” Jackson says, “you give us a call.”
“Aw, and here I was thinking bikers were pricks.”
Both men flash me panty-melting grins.
“Oh we are, precious,” Spike says. “Don’t you doubt it.”
I smile and turn to Reign, who is giving me one hell of a ‘let’s fuck’ look. Wow. Seriously, the man is so damned good looking. Maybe not in the biker way, but in the dominant-businessman kind of way.
“I’ll wait outside.”
Jackson stands, reaching over the bar and shaking Reign’s hand. “We’re done here. I’ll send two boys in tomorrow. We got ourselves a deal?”
Reign nods, shaking his hand. “Yeah.”
“Later, winglady.” Spike grins as he passes me.
“Oh, later all right.”
When they’re gone, I turn to Reign. “You seriously hired bikers to do your security?”
He leans back in his chair. “Those bikers are fucking good at what they do. They’re tough and they know what they’re doing. I’ve known Jackson for a long time. I trust him and his club.”
“But, aren’t they, like . . . criminals?”
“They’re running my club security.” He smirks. “Not growing drugs.”
I wiggle my finger at him. “That you know of.”
“Trust me, they’re worth the price I paid for them.”
“I bet. I’ll be sure to make sure the majority of our wingman activities are held here.”
“They’ve all got old ladies,” he points out. “Sorry, babe.”
“Talk about killing my buzz,” I mutter, dropping my ass onto Reign’s desk. “So, give me tonight’s rundown. What do you want?”
“Get me a crazy one,” he says, leaning back in his chair. “I need a hard fuck.”
I grin. “Oh, I’ll get you a crazy one. Don’t you worry about that.”
He glares at me. “Make her a normal, yet crazy one. Don’t get me a fucking psycho like you did last time.”