by Jami Alden
However, if she was ever in the mood for phone sex, she knew exactly whom to call. He had one of the most deliciously filthy mouths she’d ever heard on a man.
She eased out from under his arm and leg, freezing when he muttered something. Her breathing resumed when he flopped on his back with an even louder snore.
Thank God he had at least one flaw.
Shivering as her feet hit the cold slate floor of his room, she swore softly when she remembered that all of her clothes were scattered around his kitchen and living room.
She felt her way over to the spiral staircase, praying as she descended that she wouldn’t slip in the dark and break her neck.
Afraid she’d wake him if she turned on a light, she fumbled around for her clothes, distressed when she came up short of her bra.
Of all the things to leave in his apartment, it was among the worst. Knowing Tyler, though, he was probably so used to women flinging their clothes off with abandon, yet another bra would hardly faze him. The painful thought of the many women who had come before—and the many women who would come after—was enough to make her abandon her search for her lingerie before Tyler woke up.
Too, bad. The peach demi-cup edged in French lace matched her thong, and it irked her to break up the set.
Chapter Fourteen
Reggie’s fingers were nerveless around her phone as Natalie told her about the break-in and the demise of Rex.
“But there was nothing, no other note or anything?”
“Here’s the number for the detective who’s handling the case,” Natalie rattled off a number. “He can give you all the details, but right now it doesn’t sound like they know much of anything.”
A lump settled in her throat. Stupid to cry for a dead plant, but still. “I’ll have Gabe call him.” Right now she was afraid she’d fail at any attempt at rational conversation.
They’d wrapped the shoot in Seattle and were packing up their hotel room when Natalie had called. They hadn’t talked any more about Malcolm’s offer, but Reggie knew Gabe’s decision was essentially made.
Now he looked at her with dark, concerned eyes. He swore viciously when she told him the news.
“This shouldn’t affect your decision either way,” she said shortly.
“The hell it won’t! Obviously our guy was just laying low for a little while.” He paced around the room, fingers dragging through his close-cropped hair. “I want to know how the fuck he got into your apartment without the alarm going off.”
“I don’t know,” she said, flinging a handful of underwear into her suitcase. “Maybe he was able to bypass it. No system is foolproof.”
She could tell by the coiled tension in his body that he was struggling mightily to restrain his temper. “Impossible, unless he’s some kind of expert at bypassing sophisticated alarm systems. More likely your sister forgot to reset it when she left.”
She opened her mouth to defend Natalie, but even though Natalie had recently stepped up to the plate with a vengeance, her attention to detail often left much to be desired.
Silently, Reggie handed Gabe the number for the detective at the SFPD.
He fired a rapid series of questions at the officer, obviously not getting any answers he liked.
“No signs of a break-in, no prints that can’t be accounted for.” He sighed angrily and sat down on the edge of the bed. “Looks like you’re gonna be stuck with me for a while.” But his attempt at a smile was a lame one.
Just two days ago she’d wished for another incident so she’d have an excuse to pressure Gabe into staying with her. Now she felt sick at the idea that someone had violated her home and potentially put her sister in danger. What if Natalie had been there when the stalker broke in? Bile burned at the back of Reggie’s throat.
And she felt guilty that Gabe was sacrificing a critical career opportunity when she knew very well she could find a replacement capable of keeping her safe.
If Gabe wouldn’t make the right decision, she’d have to do it for him. He was meeting with Malcolm the day after tomorrow. If he didn’t take the job, she had no choice but to fire him.
“I don’t see why we have to be here so early,” Gabe grumbled as they shuffled onto the set for Reggie’s Men’s Only photo shoot.
“They need to do wardrobe fittings and makeup,” she replied patiently. Someone had woken up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. It wasn’t like she was psyched to be up and about at the ungodly hour of six-thirty A.M.
And as if things between her and Gabe hadn’t been strained enough for the past two days, he’d been quietly simmering since last night when she’d told him her photo shoot was for Men’s Only.
“You can’t do this,” he’d shouted across their suite at the Beverly Wilshire.
She’d been shocked at his reaction. “I don’t know why you’re bringing this up now. It’s been on the schedule from the beginning.”
Okay, so it had been listed as “photo shoot, Roderick Publishing group studio,” not under the name of the magazine. He’d only realized it was for the popular men’s magazine known for it’s racy—albeit, fully clothed—photo spreads when Reggie had mentioned the publication by name.
“It’s a great opportunity to get attract more male viewers.”
Exasperated, he’d finished stripping off his clothes and stormed off to shower, muttering, “If you don’t have a problem with guys spanking it all over your pictures, I don’t know why I should.”
They’d traveled in tense silence, Reggie casting anxious and resentful glances at Gabe’s set jaw as he white knuckled the steering wheel.
Within moments of arrival, she had what felt like five hundred people fussing over her, lifting her hair, tilting her chin up to blinding spotlights, standing her up and spinning her around as they commented on every feature and flaw as though she couldn’t hear them.
“We’ll want to minimize the butt.”
“Hair definitely needs help with volume.”
“Make sure her eyes don’t disappear into her face.”
“Can you make her look like she has cheekbones?”
Over the din the creative editor went over the concept for the shoot.
Not surprisingly, they’d designed a set to look like a kitchen, complete with oven, mixing bowls, and several high-grade utensils.
The stylist held up several sample outfits, consisting mainly of frilly aprons and matching G-strings.
Why had she ever let Natalie and Tyler talk her into this?
A ruckus erupted as the door swung open and several crew members, still reeling from Gabe’s military-style briefing on the need for set security, rushed to intercept the intruder.
“I’m supposed to be here,” a female voice protested. Speak of the devil. “Hey, Gabe, can you tell them to let me in?” she heard Natalie call.
Natalie might have been partly to blame for her current predicament, but Reggie was glad to see a familiar and friendly face.
“I thought you wouldn’t be here till later.”
Natalie grabbed her in a quick hug and pulled up a seat next to the makeup chair. “I flew in last night. I thought you might need me.”
The tension knotting her shoulders eased infinitesimally. That was Natalie for you. She could be the biggest flake in the world and carelessly inconsiderate, but when Reggie really needed her, somehow Natalie sensed it without even needing to be told.
“What’s with crabby pants over there?” Natalie pointed her chin in Gabe’s direction. “He looks like he’s about to turn green and bust through his clothes.”
Reggie grinned at big, tough Gabe being described as “crabby pants.” Her expression immediately sobered as she saw him sweep the room with an icy glare. “He’s not happy about this,” she said, blinking to avoid losing an eye to the mascara brush.
“You should make her eyes smokier,” Natalie commented to the makeup artist, ignoring the vicious look she received in return. “Is he concerned about your safety?”
“He thinks I sh
ould reevaluate the kind of publicity I seek.” The makeup Nazi huffed in annoyance as her lip brush went astray. Reggie obediently shut up as what felt like the twentieth coat of lip gloss was applied and blotted on her lips before speaking again. “Especially considering recent events.”
The makeup artist stood back and eyed her critically, whisking on yet another dusting of blush and highlight powder before she was apparently satisfied. “We’ll do your body once we pick out the outfits.”
“Body?”
The makeup artist gave her a look that shouted “Duh!” “With those outfits, you’ll need some touch-ups. And if you need to shave, I have extra razors in my case.”
“I shaved my legs last night,” she said.
Eyebrows raised, Natalie shot a meaningful look at the array of panties hanging from the clothing rack.
“Everything else is well trimmed too,” she muttered, grateful that her regular waxes meant she wouldn’t have to resort to shaving her bikini line in a public bathroom.
As the hairdresser laced her hair liberally with gel and rolled it in hot rollers, the stylist held up several outfits for Reggie’s approval.
Reggie saw the see-through lace bra with strategically placed strawberries and choked on her latte.
Thankfully, Natalie stepped in. “No, no way. Reggie has great abs, so you should have her in something like this.” Natalie snatched up a little half shirt in a stretchy gingham fabric, like something a slutty farm girl would wear. She pulled out a pair of Daisy Duke–style cutoffs to match.
The stylist nodded in agreement. Reggie sighed. At least it wasn’t a thong.
Gabe paced the set like a caged animal. He knew he was bothering the crew, at turns pissing them off and scaring them, but he didn’t give a shit.
For four torturous hours he’d been forced to watch his girlfriend dress up in a series of progressively sexier outfits.
A fantasy come true under most circumstances, but not with an audience of twenty. And not when she was being photographed so millions of readers could ogle her lusciously curved ass, currently showcased in a pair of bikini panties with lace ruffles on the butt.
The last time he’d seen panties like that, they’d been on his three-year-old niece. Now he felt like some kind of pervert for getting turned on by seeing Reggie in them.
“You gonna be okay, buddy?”
He barely restrained himself from turning and slamming Tyler in the face. It was partly his fault Reggie was putting herself on display for the enjoyment of sex-starved males everywhere.
Tyler had arrived about an hour and a half ago and had spent the first few moments exchanging vicious whispers with Natalie. Something about not calling to let him know she’d changed her travel plans.
Gabe had been too distracted by Reggie in the Daisy Dukes to listen carefully.
He clenched and unclenched his fists, rotated his neck, and took several deep breaths, trying yet again to clamp down on his unreasonable jealousy.
This was why he didn’t get involved. He got too possessive, too territorial, to the point where the thought of another guy even looking at his woman made him want to put his fist through a wall. “If the photographer tells her to make love to the camera one more time, I’m gonna kill him.”
Tyler chuckled. “Whatever he said, it worked with that strawberry. I wouldn’t have thought Reggie had it in her.”
Gabe’s ruff started to prickle until he realized it was friendly admiration, not lasciviousness in Tyler’s voice.
He let out a shaky sigh as he recalled the shot. The photographer had had her dip a strawberry in fudge sauce and suck it off, little by little. As her ripe, glossy lips closed over the berry, she’d looked right at Gabe, her eyes telling him she was remembering all the fun they’d had with chocolate strawberries in Santa Fe.
He’d had to sit down and cross his legs to avoid embarrassing himself.
The creative director called for a break. Natalie brought Reggie some water, and the two conversed quietly for several minutes.
Natalie turned, an angry gleam in her eyes as she made a beeline for the two men, and Tyler immediately stiffened. But apparently Tyler wasn’t Natalie’s target.
“How can you leave my sister?” she demanded with a sharp poke to the center of Gabe’s chest.
Gabe shook his head, in no mood to explain the situation right now. “I’m not going anywhere. That’s all you need to know.”
“Then why did Reggie tell me to get someone named Malcolm’s number from you so I could hire a new security person?”
Without another word, Gabe stormed over to where Reggie stood, sipping her water as she waited for the crew to set up the next shot. This was too damned much. He knew exactly what she was trying to do: Take the decision out of his hands.
As if he could leave her now.
Ignoring her protests, he grabbed her by the arm and propelled her out the door.
Natalie stared wide-eyed as Gabe hauled her sister out of the studio with all the finesse of a Neanderthal on steroids. “I’ll go see what’s wrong,” she said to the room in general, grateful for the excuse to get away from Tyler.
Tyler’s hand shot out and gripped her arm before she could slip away. Jesus, what was up with all the manhandling? Even though she had to admit that it was totally hot.
“She’s fine. They need to talk.” He pulled her farther in to a shadowy corner. “And so do we.”
“What about?” she asked, striving for nonchalant but sounding more like Minnie Mouse.
He backed her against the wall and put his hands on either side of her head, effectively boxing her in. “Why did you leave without saying anything the other night?”
She stiffened and pressed into the wall, but unfortunately couldn’t disappear into it. “We were done. I wanted to go home.” Which wasn’t precisely true. Actually, she’d wanted to stay snuggled in Tyler’s big California king with him snoring beside her and have him wake up with a big, sleepy smile in the morning at the sight of her.
But she’d indulged in that unrealistic hope far too many times and been burned in the past, thank you very much. The cab ride home may have been dark and lonely, but it was far more dignified than the walk of shame illuminated by morning’s harsh glare.
“You should have said something. I would have given you a ride home.”
She rolled her eyes. “Please, you would have given me cab fare and told me not to let the door smack me on the ass on my way out.” He looked so offended that she laughed. “Like that’s never happened.”
She’d hit a bull’s-eye, judging from the red slashes that appeared on his high cheekbones. Smiling gently, she gave him a condescending pat on the cheek. “It’s okay, Tyler, Reggie won’t fire you for fucking her flaky little sister.”
He grabbed her hand and wouldn’t let go even when she tugged. Instead, he laced his fingers through hers and drew their clasped hands down his chest. “You think I’m mad because I’m afraid of getting fired?” He looked so confused, hurt even, that for a moment she believed he was actually upset.
But she knew better than to fall for his concerned façade. She knew Tyler’s type all too well and wouldn’t be doing herself any favors by holding out any hope that he wanted anything more than a quick lay.
Swallowing hard, she whispered, “You’re a PR guy. You need to spin this. You think you have to act all gentlemanly and let me down easy. You don’t have to act all offended that I left. I know you don’t have any real interest in me.” She struggled to keep her composure as she voiced the truths she’d spent the past two days drilling into her psyche. Deliberately hardening her voice, she said, “We fucked. It was fun. It’s finished.”
He leaned in and kissed her, oblivious to anyone who might see him. Immediately Natalie felt her knees turn to water and her center turn into liquid magma.
When he pulled away, his lips were swollen and smeared with her lip gloss as his eyes shot blue flames. “I wish it were that simple. Most of the time you piss
me off, and I really wish I could just fuck you and not give it another thought. But I think about you all the time.” He ran a frustrated hand through his thick blond hair. “The truth is, I like you, Natalie, more than I ever expected to. You’re funny and smart—not to mention beautiful. When you’re not around I find myself wishing you were there to argue with.” His voice dropped to a husky whisper. “And for the past two days, I can’t think of anything but how good you tasted, how it felt to have you tight and wet around my cock.”
She gasped, on fire with lust and embarrassment even though no one else could hear. He kissed her again, tongue stroking hotly against hers. Was it possible to orgasm from making out?
Sadly, he pulled away before she could find out.
He pushed away, discreetly adjusting the fly of his trousers. “After we’re done here, you’re going to come back to my hotel and we’re going to have a long talk. Among other things.” Reaching for the catering tray, he shoved half a turkey sandwich toward her mouth. “Eat this. You’ll need the energy.”
Reeling from his words and the warm way he was looking at her, Natalie obediently chewed and swallowed, not even bothering to pick off the cheese.
“Why did you tell Natalie I’m quitting?”
Reggie didn’t back down from Gabe’s glower, even though he was using every body language trick in the book to intimidate her. She glared back at him, hands on hips and feet braced wide, forgetting for a moment that she was clad in a white and pink lace-trimmed bra, pink skirt that barely covered her butt, and pink panties with white lace ruffles across the back. Chin tilted up pugnaciously, she cried, “Because you are. And I don’t appreciate you pushing me around.”
A vein began to pulse in his broad forehead. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it when one of the editorial assistants walked by with an alarmed look. Gabe quickly scanned the hallway and pulled her by the forearm into the unisex bathroom located two doors down.
“I’m not quitting,” he yelled, his voice echoing off the tiled floor and ceiling.
“Then I’m firing you,” she yelled back. “I won’t let you make a decision you regret, then turn around and blame me for ruining your career.”