It wasn’t a big deal, mostly because it didn’t affect him. The Guild would still continue, their work would still continue, he would still continue. They thought they were down a man for their next exhibit when their business manager, Morgan Lane, had offered to auction off one of his photographs in Tristan’s place; all was again right with the world.
Sloane took another long sip of the scotch; this was not a good idea.
He hardly ever drank. He’d held out well for most of the night tonight, but about half an hour ago, he’d caved into the need to distance himself from reality. Celebrating with Tristan and hearing the way he talked about his fiancé had Sloane on edge, which was saying a lot because he was the calm one; he was the rational and thoughtful one; he was the one that never let anything or anyone get under his skin.
A lesson he’d learned the hard way.
“Hey, Sloane, you in there, bud?” Tristan asked, playfully punching his arm and pulling him from his somber thoughts.
“Of course,” he replied with a smile. “Just enjoying the show.”
“What’s up with you, Sloane?” Pierce asked, his black eyes uncomfortably staring him down. “You’ve been unusually quiet and distant lately. Worried about the next exhibit? Or do you just need to get laid?” He laughed at his own joke. “I think there are some nice-looking pieces right behind you, if you’re interested. I can make introductions for us.” He winked at what Sloane was sure were some very attractive women sitting at the bar behind him.
Pierce was such an ass.
“Screw you. No, I’m not worried, just busy trying to find a model.”
“Ahh, so you are trying to get laid!” Pierce exclaimed, deciding that he knew what must be going on.
Sloane just let his mouth thin in annoyance before taking another sip of the scotch.
“The Guild’s first exhibit without me,” Tristan sighed, trying to redirect the conversation.
Sloane took one look at his friend and said matter-of-factly, “You’re not upset.”
Because he wasn’t; Tristan was in love – he could give two-shits about the exhibit and it was written all over his face.
“C’mon man,” Tristan replied, annoyed that he’d called him out. “Ah, fuck it. There’s no use denying it. I’m not upset, although I feel like I should be. I started all of this and yeah, I know I’m still part of the gang or whatever, but it’s just weird to see the exhibits continuing on without me.”
“Well, that’s your own fucking fault – falling in love and shit. I told you it was the worst idea. Seriously, why would you want to give this up?” Pierce asked in disbelief as he sent the women sitting behind Sloane a devilish grin and a stare that said he was very interested in whatever they had to offer.
“You’re such an ass,” Tristan said only half-heartedly, knowing that somewhere in the black hole of his chest, Pierce knew why; he knew why which is the reason he’d helped Tristan win Ellie back. But, Tristan wasn’t going to bring that up now.
A giant smile lit up Pierce’s face. “Thanks.” Yes, Pierce always took that as a compliment.
Sloane just sat silently watching their banter back and forth. His eyes carefully noting every look that Pierce sent the women behind them; he was being over the top about it and Sloane hated when he was like that, especially at such a nice bar, like the Roof. Pierce needed to save that skeevy shit for wherever he picked up his women that were willing to do anything.
“Yeah, so it’s you, Morgan, and I now, huh?” Pierce moved on, trying to bring Sloane back into the conversation.
“Looks that way,” Sloane agreed, still partially distracted by the look of utter bliss on Tristan’s face. A mixture of jealousy and fear forming in the pit of his stomach; jealousy because he wanted to feel that way about someone, but more fear at what he might do to hurt that person.
Just like his father had done to his mom.
He chugged the rest of his drink when that thought sprung into his mind; he couldn’t go there.
“Seriously, Sloane, you’re being more lame than usual,” Pierce spat. “So, you need to get laid—I mean you need to find a model. I have an idea…”
Those words were always the beginning of the end.
“No,” was Sloane’s automatic response. He no longer had the luxury to let the responsibility of denying Pierce fall on Tristan’s shoulders; normally, that’s what he would do because Tristan was in charge. With him no longer participating, it looked like he couldn’t pretend to be a pushover anymore.
“Why?” Pierce asked sharply, his black eyes darkening.
“Because your ideas never work out for anyone but you.”
“That is so fucking not true!” Pierce exclaimed in mock offense even though he had a smile on his face. “Just look at Tristan here, happily in love. Auctioning off his mom’s portrait? My idea. Signing up for the Met competition? My idea. Look how well those ideas turned out.”
Tristan began to choke on his drink at the ridiculousness of Pierce’s assertions. While true, technically, ‘his ideas’ had also almost cost Tristan not only the portrait he did of his mother before she died, but also the love of his life.
“What do you want, Pierce?” Sloane asked in exasperation. Sometimes, it was just easier to hear the asshole’s idea than fight for hours refusing it.
“How about,” he began, winking at the women behind Sloane, “you let me help you find a model.” A sly smile crept over his face, still staring at the women instead of the person he was actually talking to.
“No,” Sloane refused again.
God only knows what type of woman Pierce would choose.
Sloane watched in disbelief as Pierce nodded his head back, a signal for the women he’d been eyeing up to come over to their table.
“C’mon, it’ll be fun. I always find the good ones,” Pierce replied, extending his hand to the approaching women as if to prove his point.
Sloane tried to keep his focus on the empty whiskey glass in front of him as the women approached; there were two of them. He hadn’t been able to see them before since they’d been sitting directly behind him, which was fine with him; he had no interest in seeing them or their interaction with Pierce.
Sloane’s breath caught as the first woman entered his view, causing him to choke and cough on the air he’d been trying to calmly breathe.
She was stunning.
Her incredibly long, black hair falling in soft curls down to her lower back. Her body was the type that most men dream about – large breasts, slender waist, generous hips, and incredibly long legs; and she what she was wearing emphasized all of those things. Her low-cut dress laced up the front to reveal her generous cleavage, while the rest molded to her hips and thighs, leaving nothing to the imagination.
He shifted in his seat, trying to regain his breath and alleviate the uncomfortable erection she’d caused.
Fuck, he was usually so much better at controlling his reactions than this.
“You alright there, hun?” the vixen turned her head to ask him, her incredibly full, red lip moving enticingly over the words. Her smile faltered for just a second as she caught his gaze, most likely struck by his unbelievably clear blue eyes – a shade that matched her own. She quickly tore her stare from his, eyeing him up and down instead, as if she knew that his cough wasn’t the only thing choking him. Her warm, seductive voice flowing over him like molasses, luring him into her sweetness.
Sloane watched as a devious smile returned to Pierce’s face, seeing his reaction to this woman.
Shit.
“Oh, he’s perfectly fine,” Pierce assured the woman, his own eyes feasting on the sight before them. Sloane shot his friend a deadly look; he was capable of answering her himself. “What’s your name?” Pierce asked, completely ignoring Sloane at this point.
“Cynthia,” she answered, a vibrant smile spreading over her face, “but you can call me Cyn.” She reached up and placed her hand on Pierce’s shoulder, welcoming his attentions.
&nbs
p; Sloane felt like he’d been lit on fire. Anger and jealous burned through him. He didn’t want this woman, Cyn, touching Pierce, but he had no idea why.
“And this,” Cyn continued, motioning to the other woman who was with her, “is my friend Tash.”
The other woman was a very buxom blond. Her short curls framing her heart-shaped face, her low-cut top accentuating her very generous breasts, and her very short skirt showing off her shapely legs. She extended her hand over the table, in front of Cyn, and waited for Pierce to take it.
Not one to pass up the opportunity, Sloane watched as Pierce took the woman’s hand and kissed the back of it. The look Tash sent Pierce was one of pure lust.
She was Pierce’s type.
Not physically. Sloane didn’t think the man had a type physically; no, his type was the ‘I’m down for anything’ woman, and this blond fit the bill.
“Hey there, sugar,” Tash said seductively.
The whole interaction would have made Sloane nauseous except for the fact that his body was overwhelmed with his inexplicable desire for the dark vixen who was still watching him intently.
“Ladies, these are my very good friends, Tristan and Sloane,” Pierce finally paused to introduce them.
“It’s lovely meeting you,” Tristan began, not even extending his hand, “but, I think I’m due to get back to my fiancée. Enjoy your evening.” And with a cordial smile, Tristan left Sloane to fend for himself.
Dick.
“Oh, they will,” Pierce yelled after Tristan, taking the opportunity to put his hand around Cyn’s waist and pull her to him.
Sloane’s grip on his empty glass tightened, every cell in his body raging to yank her away from him; he didn’t want Pierce touching her.
“So, ladies, my friend here is looking for a model for an upcoming project. Any chance either of you would be interested?” Pierce asked slyly.
“Pierce,” he bit out, not liking where this was going.
“Hmm, that could be fun,” Cyn began, biting her lip as her eyes darted to him. Her seductive mask broken for a split second before she returned to Pierce. “We don’t come cheap though.”
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.
“I think he can afford it,” Pierce laughed, “can’t you, Sloane?”
“Can and will are two very different things,” he ground out. He was not going to let Pierce swindle or bully him into doing this, into using either one of them. He tried to pretend he didn’t see the imperceptible flash of hurt cross Cyn’s face at his callous response.
He was not going to use a professional escort as a model. No. Fucking. Way.
“Are they not up to your standards?” Pierce taunted, his eyebrows raising. “Don’t worry, ladies, you are drop-dead gorgeous; this one,” he motioned to Sloane, “can be a little stiff.”
Yeah, if Pierce knew how fucking ‘stiff’ he was right now just from meeting Cyn, he’d eat his fucking words.
Sloane didn’t answer him, his crystal-blue eyes shooting daggers at his friend for finding this whole situation entertaining.
“Alright, alright,” Pierce continued, throwing up his hands in defeat. “Well, if you’re sure that you don’t want to use either of them for your piece, then it looks like I’ll be twice as lucky.” His tone insinuating just what darkly sexual plans he had for the three of them. “C’mon ladies, let’s get out of here.”
Sloane’s jaw clenched as he watched Pierce stand, putting one arm around Tash and the other snaking around the Cyn’s back to grab her ass as they began to head for the door.
He was unprepared for his attraction to her. He was unprepared for his jealousy over Pierce’s every interaction with her. And he was unprepared for the electric shock of possessiveness that charged through him seeing Pierce touch her like that and lead her away from him.
She was his.
“Fine.” His voice boomed across the room, halting Pierce in his tracks. He didn’t know where it had come from, the need to stop them, the need to keep her. The shock had left his mind blank and the word had left his mouth before his brain had started functioning again.
Sloane watched as Pierce dropped both of his arms, turning, along with both women, to face him with the most successfully, sly smile stamped on his darkly devilish face. “Wonderful,” his asshole of a friend responded. “Who would you like?”
Sloane didn’t even look at Pierce. Not only would he not give him that satisfaction, he couldn’t. His gaze was locked with hers, as though his stare could brand her soul that she was his.
“Cynthia.” Her full name rolled off his tongue like it was the only language he spoke. Her gaze flickered in response; she seemed just as startled as he that he’d called after her. With Pierce, her responses had been fluid, trained – a habit. With him, she seemed to be thrown off-guard, no sultry, ready-to-go response.
Cyn turned to Pierce, gave her a soft smile and said, “Have a good night,” and then a “I’ll talk to you later,” to her friend.
“Show him a good time, doll – he’s been far too frumpy lately,” Pierce added, smirking at her.
As Cyn walked towards him, Pierce winked at him and said, “I knew you were looking for a model. Don’t say my ideas are never good ones,” and with that he turned, placing his hand on the blonde’s large ass and left to enjoy the rest of his night.
Sloane fumed; he was livid at Pierce for putting him in this situation.
Now he knew what Tristan felt like a few months ago. Pierce was an asshole.
Sloane heard the insinuation in his voice, reminding him that Pierce ‘knew’ he was just looking to get laid.
He was an asshole and he was completely wrong.
He wasn’t looking for someone to sleep with, he never was. Even though Pierce and Tristan, before Ellie, had taken advantage of their infamous and seductive status by sleeping with all of their models, Sloane never did.
His partners didn’t know that though.
He’d let Tristan and Pierce believe that he was just like them, taking what was freely offered, because it was easier than telling them the truth.
The truth was that he’d never slept with a woman before.
Thanks again for reading!
The Sculptor’s Seduction is set to be released Fall/Winter 2017.
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