by Cara Dee
I stood up and grabbed his bag. I’d checked a bag with all my shit, so I didn’t have a carry-on. Henry was more of a businessman and wouldn’t go anywhere without his laptop.
Next stop, Mexico.
Stepping out onto the balcony, I breathed in the sea air and listened to the waves rolling in fourteen stories below. The night was pitch black, except for the bright turquoise of the illuminated swimming pool on the hotel’s terrace. It was huge and had an island bar in the middle.
It was nice to finally be here, but it wasn’t the smells of pine and snow I’d longed for all fall. It wasn’t Christmas here. It was a tropical paradise.
“Are you standing out here brooding, Zachary?” Henry came up behind me and held me to him, his chin landing on my shoulder.
“No?” I grimaced. “Maybe. I’m sorry.”
“I think perhaps you’re not seeing the possibilities.” He turned his head and kissed my neck. “Come with me.” Threading our fingers together, he led us into the living room of our suite and picked up the remote to the flat screen. “You wanted me to take you dancing.”
“In Seattle,” I said.
He ignored me and found a music station on the TV that played a sultry salsa remix, and the room filled with the sex of music. “So I’ll find us a cantina away from the tourists.” He hauled me close swiftly, a firm hand on my lower back. I sucked in a breath and looked up at him. “I’ll seduce you,” he murmured in my ear, “with the best food and sangria, with a hand on your thigh, and filthy whispers that still make you blush.” Oh Jesus Christ. He brushed the backs of his fingers down my cheek, and I swallowed hard. “There it is.”
I slipped my hands up his biceps, but he only allowed one hand there. He grabbed the other and clasped our fingers.
“When you’re wearing that tipsy grin,” he went on in a low voice, “I’ll show you what foreplay is on the dance floor. We’ll be outside, under the stars and string lights, and you’ll follow me.”
“You’ll lead me.”
“I’ll lead you.” He teased me with a kiss at the corner of my mouth as the heavy, almost lazy beat of the song ramped up the tension. The seductive notes of the guitar made me shiver. My cock responded rapidly, and there was no way he couldn’t feel it. “Move your hips with me, darling boy.” He trapped his thigh between my legs and pulled me closer.
“Fuck.” I couldn’t not grind against his thigh, if only a little.
Henry slid a hand up my throat. “We won’t finish until you’re begging me to come.”
“Okay.” I shuddered. “I guess, um, Mexico won’t be so bad.”
His smirk was full of promise. “It won’t be, no.”
“Time to get up, Zach.”
“Five more minutes,” I grumbled into the pillow.
“You said that ten minutes ago.” He crawled over my legs, shifted down the sheets, and bit my ass.
I yelped. “Prick!”
He smacked the spot. “Is my boy turning into a diva? Get your lazy ass out of bed, Zachary. You’re going to want breakfast before work.”
I lifted my head and looked over my shoulder with a weak glare. “I’m not a fucking diva.”
“Then stop acting like one.” He folded up the sleeves of his white linen shirt that he wore with tan cargo shorts. I wasn’t gonna wear much other than trunks and a beater, so I hoped he could put my stuff in his side pockets. “Come on, up you go.”
I groaned and rolled out of bed, my feet hitting the carpet with a thump. “Why are you such a morning person?”
“Why are you such a brat?” he asked, amused. “You’re far more disciplined when I’m not around. Martin gives me reports, you know.”
“You mean he gossips.” I rolled my eyes and stood up, stretching my arms above my head. At least I got him to eye my morning wood. “Wanna come here and suck me a little?” I gripped the base and gave myself a stroke.
He stared for another few seconds. “I… Well…” He shot me a strict, narrow-eyed look. “Get dressed.”
I grinned.
Then I took a quick shower, jerked off to the thought of him fucking me, and got dressed.
Fifteen minutes later, we were in the elevator down to the buffet area on the terrace, and he called me a slut.
“Fuck you, it’s your fault.” I pushed down my shades from the top of my head. “You didn’t give me cock last night.”
He hummed. “I was more tempted to give you ass, to be honest.”
“Why didn’t you?” I complained. God, if he was getting into one of those moods, I wasn’t sure I’d get much work done while we were here. “I love topping you.”
“I know,” he sighed. “You were just so sweet and obedient, and the desire to bottom catches me off guard sometimes. I don’t want to throw you.”
Screw that bullshit. Stepping closer, I grasped his chin. “You’re overthinking this, Henry. You’re also forgetting that I get off on being thrown. It turns me on when the switch surprises me.” I leaned forward and kissed him, the doors opening behind me.
“You’re right,” he whispered.
I nodded and linked my fingers with his.
Walking through the expansive lobby of the hotel, we spotted a few from Joseph’s makeup crew, and I saw Akira talking to her girlfriend near the revolving doors leading to the street. I gave her a wave, then nodded toward the beach. She gestured she’d be right there.
“Noah and Julian are here,” Henry said, surprised.
Hell, I was surprised too. I followed his gaze, spotting the couple having breakfast with Maliah on the terrace. They’d scored a table close to the pool, so we made our way between all the other tables to reach them.
“Fancy seeing you handsome devils here.” I grinned when Julian looked up, and he smiled widely. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”
“Last-minute thing, and we thought we’d surprise you.” He stood up, and hugs were exchanged between the four of us. Maliah was on the phone, so that would have to wait. Julian flashed me a teasing grin. “Of course, we didn’t expect you to be two days late.”
“Yeah, guess who’s firing his agent,” I chuckled. “We’ll be right back, just gonna get food.”
“Try the shrimp omelet. It’s goddamn amazing,” Noah said with his mouth full.
“You’re the worst vegetarian ever,” I told him.
He waved me off. “Never claimed otherwise, kid.”
Henry and I went inside again to where the buffet was set up, and we filled our plates, plus one bowl of fresh fruit we could share, and he got a cappuccino while I got juice.
On the way back to the table, Henry spoke up for only me to hear. “What are the chances of them being here to babysit Maliah as a favor to her father?”
Oh, I’d say it was almost a certainty now that I thought about it. Brooklyn was chill about her daughter being a model. Maliah was responsible and had graduated high school with honors, not to mention sweet as hell. But Asher could never unclench.
“I wouldn’t bet against it, that’s for sure.” I assumed Brooklyn and Asher had their hands full with work and their younger daughter at home. Asher did otherwise take time off to travel with Maliah.
Henry and I sat down next to each other at the round table just as Maliah resurfaced from a phone call that made her sigh heavily.
She was on my other side, so I reached over and kissed her cheek.
“How’s Daddy?” I asked her.
“Don’t get me started.” Apparently, she took my greeting as an invitation to use my shoulder as a pillow. “In his eyes, I’ll always be the gangly preteen I was when he met me. Mom keeps telling him to calm down, which, for some reason, is his cue to be overbearing behind her back.”
I chuckled and tucked into my omelet, and Noah had been right. This shit was golden.
“I can’t wait till you meet the man you’re gonna marry,” I said around my food. “I wanna be there when you introduce him to Asher.”
“Ay, oh, whoa.” Noah reverted b
ack to his East Coast origin, although I was pretty sure there wasn’t an Italian fiber in him. “She’s way too young for that. Christ, Zach.”
“So you are here to babysit Maliah,” I laughed.
“How did you figure?” Julian’s mouth quirked in amusement. “I’m on her side, for the record. Uncle Noah can do all the babysitting. I’m here for the free vacation.”
I pointed to my man. “He guessed it. Makes total sense.”
“I don’t want to quote Brooklyn or anything,” Henry started saying.
“But the macho men in my family need Jesus?” Maliah drawled.
Noah and I barked out a laugh, and Julian groaned and facepalmed.
She had a point. It’d taken me months to establish a friendship with Maliah ’cause Asher was always there, and I was fucking gay and not a threat whatsoever. Didn’t matter to him.
“I was going to say chill out, but that works,” Henry chuckled. “If anyone can handle Noah and your father, it’s you, dear.”
“I’m learning from the best,” Maliah replied with a smirk.
“Your mom and Sophie?” I guessed.
“Hell yes.”
Maliah, Akira, and I were taken to three separate locations around the city after breakfast, and I was relieved Joseph opted to work with Maliah. It was possible he’d heard I was here with Henry and had a feeling we were gonna tell him enough was enough.
Henry included, I found myself with a team of six people, and we headed out in a van to some underwater caves. The shore here was rocky and full of basins, caves, and…well, death traps. Henry found a shaded spot to read the paper and chat with Martin, and I was ushered to a sliver of the beach that had sand.
I studied the interview questions while Meredith made my face look blemish-free and flawless. One of the running campaign’s background models—Tyrese—was gonna be in charge of asking me the questions.
Since I was a shit actor and had told Brooklyn I didn’t wanna lie and make up some fake persona, the questions had been adapted for my sake. They involved less makeup, considering I didn’t actually wear any in my everyday life, and were more about acceptance and breaking free from stereotypes.
“You look dismayed,” Meredith noted. “Close your eyes, please.”
I closed my eyes. “It would be too high-maintenance for me to change the questions again, right?”
“Probably,” she chuckled.
Rob, one of Brooklyn’s assistants, came over and asked if there was a problem.
Tyrese was close behind.
“Last time I did an interview, it was awkward as fuck,” I said with a shrug. “None of this comes very naturally for me.”
“Yeah, me either.” Tyrese lifted a shoulder and folded his arms. He and I were the only two who hadn’t gone through the same audition process as the others. Even Maliah had started from scratch.
Tyrese had modeling experience but mainly for sports catalogues. Neither of us knew how to act.
“Wanna defy Brooklyn with me?” I raised a brow at Tyrese.
“Oh God,” Rob muttered. “This is going to get me fired, isn’t it? You know, Joseph was very specific—”
“Fuck what Joseph says,” I said.
“I’m in,” Tyrese replied with a slow grin.
It was settled. After some re-planning and discussing what to say, Tyrese and I headed down the rocks, dressed in regular black board shorts, him showing a hell of a lot more bulk than me. We had our cameraman in tow, a few-worded man named Paulie.
I took a swig from my water bottle, and we found a couple rocks that weren’t sharper than heartbreak to sit on. We had the turquoise water behind us.
“Don’t sit too close to me, man,” I said. “I already look like a friendly ghost.”
Tyrese let out a rich laugh and chose to share my rock just to be a dick. Dick. At least I was a little taller than him. I had to have something working to my advantage.
He unfolded the piece of paper with the questions, and I dug out my instructions—and the reason I hated interviews. I wasn’t sure, but “Remember to smile naturally” wasn’t natural for me.
“Ready when you are,” Paulie said. He pushed play on his phone too, my “signature” playlist playing in the background. It would be edited before posting, but I always had an MKTO song playing in my videos. Brooklyn’s choice for me.
Henry trailed down the rocks with a moping Rob.
“We’re not doing any retakes,” I said. “Brooklyn wants to highlight me and let the customers get to know me? Then they’ll get me, blunders and bullshit included.”
I was nervous, yet I liked my idea. It was real. And hopefully funny.
“All right, then,” Paulie said, holding up the camera. “Rolling. And by rolling, I mean I pushed record.”
I grinned and tilted my head to Tyrese.
“That’s my cue,” Tyrese said and fanned out the questionnaire. “Hey, guys. I’m Tyrese, and it’s another get-to-know-Zach day at ShadowLight. Our boss handed us this form with questions from fans.”
“I’m pretty sure they’ve been properly vetted and approved by the marketing team,” I commented. “For instance…” I drew a finger down the list of questions, pausing at the most obvious one. “I don’t think any of the viewers are asking me what the best part is about the new ShadowLight primer.” Because I’d learned the sales pitch by heart, and I wasn’t going there. “Hold on, I’m forgetting something.” I pretended to check my own list, and I nodded to myself. “Remember to smile naturally… Right.” I sent a megawatt smile to the camera. “There. Moving on.”
Tyrese didn’t miss a beat. “In the last video, ShadowLight got some criticism because you’re a spokesmodel for a makeup brand, but you mentioned you only wear makeup sometimes. Any comments?”
I rubbed my neck, phrasing myself carefully. As much as I wanted to be myself, I was selling something here. And when I couldn’t sell a product, I had to be able to sell the brand and the concept.
“I can’t speak for Brooklyn Wright, but I don’t think she hired me for the makeup,” I started by saying. “In this day and age, it’s about normalizing diversity and being proud of who you are. I think that’s what she’s doing—and has been doing since she expanded ShadowLight. So, no, I don’t wear makeup in my everyday life, but I’m all over accepting the idea of it and pointing out it’s okay if you do.” I paused, thinking back on my first time in a gay bar. “When I came to LA, my boyfriend and a buddy of his took me to my first gay bar, and… Let’s just say I had one drink too many, and I ended up crashing a bachelorette party. An hour later, I was taking a bathroom selfie with one of the ladies—right after she brushed a streak of glitter on my cheek. It was…a wild moment for me. In a way, I broke up with myself and who I used to be. I started exploring what else I could do that wasn’t the norm.”
I caught Henry standing a few feet behind Paulie, and he smiled softly at me.
Tyrese stared at me. “I think we do a better job with these interviews when we don’t listen to the boss.”
I laughed.
“So do you own any of the ShadowLight products?” he asked next.
I nodded. “Oh yeah. The primer I mentioned earlier is actually awesome. I go between LA and Washington so much, and it’s two completely different climates. Like most people, changes in temperature, food, lifestyle in general will appear on my face.” I shrugged. “It’s a great product.” I held up my note. “With an alluring smile, I’m now supposed to tell you what’s in the primer, but I’m gonna say you can read about it in the description below the video.”
“You’re a great salesperson,” Tyrese told me.
“I appreciate that, man.” I smirked. “I’m ignoring the fact that I can see my boyfriend shaking his head at me. Next question?”
Chapter 4
Let’s Dance, Joseph
We went on until we’d gone through all questions and had three hours of footage. For a few questions, we sat on that rock. For the next set, we moved to a s
haded location so we didn’t get burned to a crisp. The last questions, Tyrese fired off while we were having a late lunch on the beach.
For the rest of the week, we were gonna shoot more commercial-style footage where I’d have a lot less freedom. Luckily, I wouldn’t have lines there.
“You seemed to have more fun in front of the camera today,” Henry mentioned as we got into the van.
Tyrese and Meredith had gone their own way, wanting to sight-see.
“It’s the whole script thing that trips me up, I think.” I buckled in and leaned back. “How mad do you think Brooklyn will be?”
“Hmm. There will undoubtedly be more editing to do, but I wouldn’t be upset if I were her.” He clasped our hands on his leg. “You were funny and cracked jokes. That sort of thing will be appreciated by the viewers.”
I hoped so.
“What’re we doing tonight?” I yawned.
“I checked your schedule, which someone must’ve updated,” he replied. “There’s a big dinner with everyone now that you’re here.”
I should’ve known. It was almost a ritual of Brooklyn’s, to make sure there was a dinner the first night of a new shoot. The longer shoots, anyway.
I assumed it meant Joseph would be there.
The restaurant was off the beaten path about an hour away from the resort and looked suspiciously like the cantina Henry had said he was gonna take me to. We were led through the standalone villa where guests dined on seafood and listened to live music, and the patio in the back had been reserved for us. The lights were there, several strings of them attached to the building and poles on the other side of the patio.
Henry explained many places looked like this.
Either way, it was romantic as hell, and I reached up to kiss his cheek.
A long table had been set for all nineteen of us, and as we sat down, wait staff came out with trays upon trays of seafood platters, quesadillas, guacamole, salad bowls, and more drinks than we could possibly consume. Pitchers of sangria glowed red, and bottles of domestic beer sparkled in gold.