“I’d say so, Dreema. After all, wouldn’t you write a love song about your billionaire boyfriend if he’d just landed you the record deal of your dreams?”
Tom made a disgusted noise and gestured for her to turn it off, but Bay shook her head, her expression pinched and angry. “These women live in the 21st Century, right?”
“Ignore it. It’s trash. Those screeching harpies will be all about someone else tomorrow. Pure jealousy.”
Bay gave a humorless laugh. “Jealous because I get the billionaire and the record deal with my magical, yet gold-digging vagina?”
Tom was annoyed then. “No, jealous because you’re talented, Bay. Do you think we’d be together if you were anything like what they’re describing? Would you be with someone who would buy you a career?”
Bay shrugged. “No. But it doesn’t stop other people’s opinions being colored by this crap. Every time we’re interviewed now, I’ll feel as if it’s some sort of trap to get me to admit my dastardly ways.”
Tom went to her. “Which is why we hired Emily, remember? Look, go shower and I’ll call her.”
When he called Emily, the call went straight to voicemail. “Hey, Emily, Tom Meir here. Look, I’ve got a major PR problem and a very skittish girlfriend. Can you call me back when you get this, please?”
The coffee in the hospital cafeteria was surprisingly good. Emily and Dash sat opposite each other at a small table, watching the room fill with staff coming on and off shift.
Dash reached over to loop a strand of blonde hair over her ear. “You’re exhausted.”
“No more than you. You’ve gone above and beyond for us. Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
Their eyes locked then and Emily felt her whole body respond as Dash leaned forward to kiss her. “Mmm,” he said. “Definitely my pleasure.”
She grinned. “You are so cheesy.”
He nodded, resigned. “I know, I know.”
Emily took a deep breath in. “Dash …before anything happens with us …anything more, I mean,” she added, grinning shyly. “I have to tell you. I’m sort of seeing someone. Well, not really, but there has been someone I’ve been …we’re …”
“Fuck buddies?” Dash grinned as she choked on her coffee. Emily wiped her chin, laughing.
“If you like. But he’s a good friend and a good man. Out of respect for him, I want to settle things between us.”
Dash nodded. “Understood.”
He didn’t say anything more and suddenly Emily was nervous. “Not that I’m expecting anything, Dash. You know that ...I’m not presuming that …”
“I want you.” His voice was soft and low, his gaze riveted on her. “I want you in every way, Emily Moore. If you’ll have me.”
She smiled, bashful but delighted, and was about to say something when she heard the voice she’d been dreading, calling her name. Her sister had arrived.
Afterward, Emily swore blind that Paige had flown into the hospital room, scarves trailing behind her, and prostrated herself on Henry’s bed crying, “My son! My darling boy! Mama’s here!”
Dash grinned at her over her breakfast table. “It wasn’t quite like that, but yes, that was the impression.”
Paige, of course, had loved the mother role, especially when suddenly the hospital staff was extra-accommodating to the star in their midst. Emily felt shoved to the side as Paige cooed and fawned over her son. Henry was barely conscious, his eyes, gummy from sleep, opening and closing and looking at Paige in astonishment.
“Mom?”
Paige smiled fondly down at him, smoothing his damp hair away from the child’s face.
“Darling, you’re in a hospital. You’ve had surgery for your tummy ache. Appendicitis. Do you know what that is?”
“He’s eight, Paige. Of course he does.”
Paige ignored her sister. “I was very worried.”
“I want Auntie Emily.”
Paige was quiet and Emily saw her lips tighten. “I’m here now, darling. Auntie Emily is just there. Look.”
Henry reached up to Emily as she bent to kiss him and Paige got between them, pushing him back on the bed.
“Careful, darling. Careful. The doctor had to give you a little cut on the tummy to get the bad part out. It needs to heal. You need to be careful of the stitches.”
Emily ground her teeth, but smiled at Henry. “How do you feel, champ?”
“Sleepy …and thirsty.”
Paige made an almost comical grab at the water beside his bed before Emily could reach it. “Here you go, Henry, baby.”
Emily saw Dash at the door, stifling a grin. When he met her gaze, he rolled her eyes, making her smile. Paige looked up to see the handsome man at the door and Emily watched in amusement as she switched into seduction mode.
“Who’s this?”
Emily introduced them. “Quartet, huh? They wanted to sign me years ago, but I was loyal to Sony, you know? They gave me my first break.”
Dash put his head to the side. “Really? How many years ago?”
Emily choked back a snort of laughter.
“I don’t remember. Ten … twelve …”
Dash looked at Emily and winked.
Paige sniffed and turned away from him. Dash went to the bed grinned at Henry.
“You okay, buddy?”
Henry was dropping again, but he managed a nod and a wave before his head flopped back onto the pillow and his eyes closed.
Paige motioned them out of the room. “Best if I stay with him for a while. You two have been wonderful, but, as I said to the doctor, he’ll need his mother now.”
Emily had vented her spleen about that last comment the entire ride home, and as soon as Dash pulled the car up to the apartment, she suddenly laughed. “God, that felt good.”
Dash poked his ears. “Are they bleeding? I think they’re bleeding.”
They were still laughing when they got into her apartment, but then an awkward silence fell. They were alone.
“Would you like some coffee?”
Dash nodded. “That would be good. After sex, of course.”
Emily looked up, her breath catching, but then she saw he was kidding. “You are a bad man.”
“I hope so.” He followed her into the kitchen. “Look, I completely respect your situation. Just—can I ask—just don’t delay too long.” He caught her as she turned to make the coffee. “And I’m not so understanding that I won’t steal a kiss from you now …”
Her head spun as he kissed her, his fingers knotting in her hair, his eyes closed, and his pleasure obvious. God … she would call Isaiah as soon as she could and get things settled, because, damn, she could feel Dash’s cock harden against her belly and she wanted desperately to finish what they had started.
She gently pushed him away, smiling. “I’m trying to be good, Dashiell. Stop tempting me or I’ll jump you right now and then I shall forever be a fallen woman.”
She moved away from him then, and almost as an afterthought, remembered her phone was switched off. She grabbed her purse and pulled it out. Her voicemail was full.
“Damn,” she said, alerting Dash.
“What is it?”
“Something must have happened. My messages are insane.” She listened to the first one and groaned. “The press is doing a number on Bay and Tom. She’s freaking out. Oh damn, damn …”
Dash sighed, his face grim. “Well, I guess we go back to work.”
“So you’re saying we do nothing?” Bay looked tired and stressed, but was nodding along with what Emily and Dash were saying.
“I think if we make a fuss or react in any way, we’ll make it worse. We need to treat it for what it is: gutter journalism. No one who matters cares what they say. Y our fans, your true fans, really don’t give a crap who you’re screwing.” Dash smiled at her.
Bay considered. “If you’re sure. They will ask about Tom in interviews, though. Even the respectable press.”
Emily pushed her breakfast
plate away. “Just say the truth: Yes, you are in a relationship, but you’d like to keep it private.”
Dash squinted at her. “Yeah, because that’ll shut ‘em up.”
Emily poked her tongue out at him. “Quiet, Dashiell, the mistress is speaking.”
Bay’s eyebrows shot up and she smothered a grin. “You heard her, Dashiell.”
“Women.” But Dash was grinning. Bay smiled to herself. Maybe she had won the bet after all. Emily and Dash were so easy with each other—so relaxed; they reminded her of Tom and herself—always teasing and kidding around.
“So, the plan is to do nothing.”
“Yup.”
“That’s right. What we do have to talk about is the album launch next week.” Emily grinned at Bay’s stricken face. “Relax, this is the good part, I swear. The buzz is already building, Bay. This part’s going to be easy, I promise.”
Bay still looked green. “I’ll trust you, but I don’t really want to discuss the launch without the others. Are you free tomorrow?”
Emily nodded. “Sure thing, but I do need to get back to ‘Frisco today. I’m picking the munchkin up today,” she said to Dash. “And then, afterward, I’ve got to go do that other thing.” They exchanged a look Bay didn’t understand.
“I’ll take you to the airport.”
Emily smiled at Dash. “Thanks, that would be great. Excuse me, I need to use the restroom.”
Bay watched Dash watching Emily as she walked across the diner to the bathrooms, then nudged him.
“You are smitten, Hamilton.”
Dash grinned back, unabashed. “Like you wouldn’t believe. Is this how you felt when you and Tom met?”
Bay smiled remembering. “I couldn’t think of anything else but him. All this really exciting stuff was happening with the band and all I could think of was Tom. Is it like that for you?”
Dash smiled. “Exactly.”
Bay leaned over the table and grabbed his hand, her eyes shining. “I’m so happy for you, Dash. Although, obviously …”
“…if I hurt her, you’ll kick my ass.”
“Damn straight.”
Dash laughed. “I’d like to see you try, shorty.”
Emily made her way back to the hospital almost in a daze. She’d gone straight to Isaiah’s gym straight from the airport, expecting to be there for a couple of hours, at least, explaining herself.
It hadn’t worked out like that at all. Isaiah had greeted her with a wide smile and when she had stammered out that she thought they should part ways, he had put a hand on her shaking one.
“Girl, chill. I kind of figured when you hadn’t called for a month. We never said we were serious or exclusive. We friend-zoned each other way before we even started, if we’re honest.”
Emily felt a weight lift. “Really?”
Isaiah laughed. “Really. Listen, I have to get back to work, but, look, if nothing else, I’d like to stay friends, so check in from time to time. You up for that?”
“Definitely.” She threw her arms around him, the sheer relief of his generosity making her tearful. He hugged her and whispered in her ear. “Whoever he is, he’s a lucky guy.”
Now, as she made her way up to Henry’s hospital room, she shook her head. How did she get so lucky with the men in her life? Isaiah, Henry, Dash …she felt blessed. She smiled at the nurse who had been assigned to Henry.
“How is he today? I’m hoping you’ll let me take him home soon …” She stopped when she saw the look on the nurse’s face. He glanced over at the doctor who was talking to a colleague. “Miss Moore, the doctor will be over to talk to you in a second.”
A cold spike of fear drilled through her. “Why …is Henry okay? Is he okay?” She heard her voice climb a few decibels. The nurse held his hands up.
“Henry is absolutely fine, I’m sorry to worry you. It’s just …god …look …” He motioned for her to come closer. “I shouldn’t be saying this. It wasn’t my decision and I argued against it, but the doctor let her take him.”
Emily’s heart stopped. “Let who take him?” But she knew. Without waiting for an answer, she brushed past him, ignored the doctor who reached out to stop her, and threw open the door to Henry’s room. He was gone.
Paige had reclaimed her child.
Dash got there a couple of hours later, by which time she’d talked herself into an icy calm. She filled him in on what had happened, boiling it down to the basics. Paige had worked her charms on the doctor and he’d allowed her to take Henry home—to wherever home was. She’d called Paige, who had calmly explained that Henry was okay and was going to stay with her in her penthouse suite for a while.
“After all, Em, you’re working all hours at the moment and Henry needs full time care. This is the best solution.”
Emily reigned in her temper. “I want to see him.”
“You’re welcome at any time, Emily, of course. Henry’s not a prisoner. He’s allowed visitors.” Her sister’s high tinkling laugh made Emily want to smash the phone to pieces.
“Visitors,” she repeated now to Dash, “I’m a visitor. Not the person who’s raised him for the last four years. A visitor. That fucking bitch knows exactly what she’s doing.”
Dash moved to her side. “You okay?”
She shook her head. “No, Dash, I’m not. I’m mad. I’m pissed as hell. And I’m going to fight her for full custody of Henry.”
Dash nodded. “I think …that’s a good move, but can I sound a word of caution?”
Emily drew in a couple of deep breaths. “Okay …but carefully.”
Dash grinned, stroking her cheek. “You can beat my ass afterward if you like …but listen. Fight as hard as you can. I will back you up all the way. So will all your friends. But don’t put Henry in the middle. She will try to do that and every time she does, however hard it is, you back off. Let her win the little battles so you can win the war. In the meantime, we keep a record of every time she tries to pull a trick, play dirty, or tries to use Henry as a pawn. Then, when you get your day in court, we’ll have the upper hand. When you’re with Henry, forget everything else but being with him in the moment. Listen to him and ask him about his life. Be his best friend without trying too hard.”
Emily was staring at him in amazement and suddenly her eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry.”
Dash looked confused. “What for?”
“For misjudging you so entirely when we met. God, Dash, what you just said to me …the arrogant little douche that came to my office is a million miles away from who you really are.”
“Thanks,” he said dryly and then laughed with her. She kissed him softly.
“I mean it. Who was that? Because that’s not the man I’m falling for.” She wrapped her arms around his neck as they kissed and Dash tightened his arms around her. “I’m falling so hard for you, Dashiell …”
He picked her up and carried her to her bedroom, then they were tearing each other’s clothes off, desperately to be connect their bodies skin-on-skin as they fell naked onto her bed. Dash slid his hand between her legs to find her already wet, and as he stroked her, she wrapped her legs around him.
“Don’t wait,” she panted. “I need you inside me …please.”
Dash grinned, his cock already so hard and ready for her, and as he kissed her, she guided him inside. With one hard thrust, he plunged deep inside her, the relief of finally being able to lose themselves in each other spurring them on. Emily’s legs tightened around him as she moved to meet every thrust of his hips, willing him deeper. Her fingernails dug deeply into his buttocks. His mouth was rough on hers, his tongue exploring. Tasting.
As they neared climax, he grabbed her hands and pinned them on either side of her head, his eyes locked on hers as his hips slammed into hers.
“Emily …” he said breathlessly, and she moaned at the desire in his voice. She was almost delirious as she came, her sex swollen and raw from being fucked so expertly, and she cried out his name again and again as she
felt his body stiffen, then jerk as he ejaculated deep inside of her.
Dash buried his face in her neck, breathing hard. She kissed the firm shoulders and the biceps that cradled her face.
Neither of them spoke. There was no need for words.
“I should really learn to cook,” Bay said idly as she drove Tom and herself home. “We spend too much money on take-out and restaurants. My aunt would murder me if she knew I wasn’t making you roti or biryani. Maybe I should learn to cook challah for you.”
Tom looked at her bemused. “My mom would be pleased. But you don’t have to.”
She grinned at him. “I’d like to blend our traditions. I love that idea.”
“I love you,” he said, leaning to kiss her. He sat back and fidgeted with the glove box. Bay rolled her eyes. It had been her idea to drive for once but Tom was a terrible passenger. She told him that.
“I’m hurt,” he said, clutching his chest in mock outrage and she giggled. A few minutes later, she was pulling into the car port of their houseboat.
When he got out, Tom made a big show of checking the car for damage and Bay was play-fighting and giggling when they both heard the clang of a trash can being tipped over in their yard. They stopped and stared into the gloom of the yard. Something flashed and Tom was running. “Get in the house, Bay. Do it!”
Bay hesitated, wanting to go after him and help him, but she knew Tom would be angry if she didn’t do as he said. He was paranoid about her safety. She went into the house, but hovered by the door, ready to help Tom if he needed it. A few seconds later, he appeared, looking pissed.
“It’s okay. Just some damn pap going through our trash.”
Bay gaped at him. “That’s gross …what the hell?”
Tom shut the door behind and locked it. “Gutter rats,” he muttered, going into the kitchen and washing his hands. Bay stood behind him, rubbing his back and trying to calm him.
“Tom …would you feel better if we lived in one of those penthouse suites, surrounded by security? I mean, I always thought it was odd, you being, you know, who you are, and …”
Tom suddenly smiled. “Not living the stereotypical life of a billionaire?”
His Beautiful Revenge: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance Page 75