Blackmailed by the Hero

by Julie Particka

  Which meant he should have a message, too. He keyed it up on his phone and put it on speaker. “Tests all came back negative. Let me know if there’s anything else you need.”

  Vicky bit her lip as she looked at him. “So, does this mean we can leave the piercing in while we go cool off in the pool?”

  This wasn’t the conversation he’d expected—it was better. “Yeah.”

  “And does it mean we can leave it in after the pool?”

  “Of course.”

  “And does it mean—”

  “It means last one in the pool cooks dinner.” He started toeing off his sneakers.

  “Suits?”

  “I have a privacy fence, and they wouldn’t stay on long anyway.”

  “In that case…” Vicky had taken her shoes off at the door and now sprinted to the back, jumping in the water fully clothed.

  He was still wearing his boxer briefs when he followed her out. “What was that all about?”

  “I really hate cooking.” Item after item of waterlogged workout wear splashed onto the deck, and he stood there, watching, until she was naked. “Are you coming in or what?”

  “Sorry. Just enjoying the show.” He discarded his underwear and dived into the water, coming up next to her and sweeping her into a kiss. “So, about that piercing…”

  She wrapped her hand around him, stroking him gently under the water. Every time she came to his head, she toyed with the metal, making his toes curl. “I believe you promised me every position.”

  “That I did.” He closed his eyes, savoring the feel of her touch. Reveling in the knowledge that no matter how far she’d run from him five years ago, this time she was staying. And for once, his gut, heart, and head all agreed on something: being with her was right. No, better than right. Being with Vicky was perfect.

  Her lips trailed kisses from his shoulder up his neck. “Which one do we get to try out first?”

  “I was thinking we’d come over here.” Loath as he was to have her stop stroking him, he wanted to be inside her more, and he led her to the steps at the shallow end of the pool, where he sat down. “Then I was thinking you could sit on my lap.”

  …

  “And tell you what I want for Christmas? Isn’t it a little early for that?” Contrary to her words, she straddled him, biting her lip when the balls of his piercing pressed on the front and back of her opening as she sank onto his head. Slowly, ever so slowly, she lowered her body, savoring the feel of the extra points of contact. Her eyes rolled back as the beads rubbed against her insides in ways she’d never felt before. “Oh, Santa, how did you know that was exactly what I wanted?”

  Dante growled against her breast. “I will give you anything you ever want, but I am not a big, fat man with a white beard.”

  She gasped as she sheathed him fully, her fingers digging into his biceps as his piercing rubbed against her walls. “And here I thought you were the new and improved sexy Santa. My mistake.”

  “Woman…”

  “Shh…” She laid a finger over his lips as she lifted her hips, sliding off him. Never in her life had she experienced anything like this. The strange sensations had her muscles clamping down on him with every little movement. “It’s really hard to concentrate on how amazing you feel when you keep talking.”

  He must have realized she was enjoying herself, and he shut up. Hands resting firmly on her hips, he guided her motions as she rocked, which was a good thing since reasonable thought was quickly vanishing as the combination of his dick and those two metal balls worked their magic, every move pushing her closer to the edge. The cold water around them did nothing to quench the heat they were building together.

  Every time he plunged into her, she got tighter and tighter, clenching his length. “God, you feel so good. I didn’t think you could feel better than before, but please don’t ever take the piercing out again.” She moaned loudly into his hair, her fists wrapped tightly in its length as she rode him, struggling to hold back from the rapidly building orgasm.

  “As you wish.” He held her just above the level of the water and shifted his weight so he could thrust into her—hard and steady. Water from her hair streamed over her breasts and down her abs to splash against his skin. If she locked her vision on that, she could almost control…

  Then one of the balls hit her G-spot, and Dante must have noticed some change in her, because he became relentless. Over and over, he thrust to touch her there, and no amount of focus could restrain her any longer. Vicky’s grip tightened, and she flung her head back. There was nothing but the feel of him inside her as wave after wave crashed. Her muscles would contract only to have his piercing rub against them and bring on fresh heat. Her breathing quickened with each new spasm, and Dante increased the speed and depth of his thrusts until they were both crying each other’s names, their voices echoing in the still air.

  Vicky let herself fall against his chest, settling there in the safety of his arms. This. She finally understood—this was right where she needed to be. Maybe the heroines in all the movies weren’t damsels in distress after all. Maybe they were just women who’d figured out that the hero would, always and forever, do right by them. Even though she’d sworn against it, forever was starting to sound pretty good from where Vicky was sitting.

  Chapter Fifteen

  For almost two weeks, Dante had gone to events solo, but he’d skipped many of them entirely. Vicky wanted to believe Jade was right, but everything about it still felt wrong. It felt like the blackmail had—completely out of sync with Dante’s personality. He was a personable guy. Chatting with people—friends or strangers—was when he seemed most in his element. That was when his stress seemed to melt away.

  So when he brought up the cast dinner, Vicky decided it was time to put her foot down. “How fancy is this thing? Like wear the same dress as I did to the opera fancy? Cocktail dress fancy? Jeans and cowboy boots?”

  “Oh,” he said, avoiding eye contact, “you don’t have to go. It’s going to be mostly shop talk. You’d probably be bored to tears.”

  That was it. “You get that my brother’s an actor, too, right? You understand that I’m not new to this whole scene? I may not be an industry insider, but I’m not an idiot, either. What gives? Are we done, and I just didn’t get the memo?”

  “What? No. Of course not.”

  “Did Saul throw a fit because of me waitressing at his party?”

  “No…”

  “Then what is it? Because while I don’t mind doing the whole just-old-friends thing because of my job, I’m starting to feel like I’m your dirty little secret.” She slapped the party binder on the table. “And if that’s the case, the job’s done. Invites were sent a week ago. Most of the RSVPs are recorded. I can get out of your hair and finish up from my office.”

  “Damn it, Vicks, that’s not it at all.” Dante shoved the binder aside, sat on the edge of the table, and took her hands. “I’m going to come clean to you. Thing is, Reed’s still in the movie. He’s going to be at the dinner.”

  “And?” This was about Reed? She wasn’t with him. Hell, she’d barely thought about him since things with her and Dante had started moving. The guy had been a means to an end, nothing more, and she’d already met that end in a much more pleasurable fashion.

  “And I told you what he does to people. If he remembers you…”

  “Seriously? Saul didn’t remember me, and he caught me after hours with you. It’s been weeks. I’m sure Reed Russell has forgotten all about the waitress-who-didn’t-show by now.”

  “If you’re wrong?”

  Conversations like this made her wonder if people really did think she was helpless. She had made it through life before men started taking care of her. Granted, Mom had done most of the caretaking before that, but still, she was a strong, capable woman, damn it. It was high time people started treating her like one, even if she’d just figured it out herself. “I’m a big girl, Dante. I don’t need you to play hero for me—whether
to keep me away from danger or rescue me from it. If I’m wrong, I’ll deal with Reed Russell and the Ego-that-ate-Frisco.”

  Dante leaned down and kissed her, hard, teasing her lips open with his tongue until she yielded to him. It was totally okay with her if they argued…as long as it always ended like this. He pulled back, planted another soft kiss on her forehead, and said, “In that case, cocktail dress.”

  The food was great—on that basis alone, she was glad she’d insisted on joining him. Otherwise, he hadn’t been lying. Dinner was a giant snoozefest. The cast spoke about filming and motivation and blah, blah, blah while the spouses chatted about spa days, golf outings, and dinner parties. Vicky spent a lot of time toying with her phone.

  Granted, she did listen in on the conversations about parties. If she really wanted to be a full-time planner eventually, any information was good information. By the time dessert came, she’d learned more about menu preferences and stupid expenses than she’d been able to type into the notes on her phone. There were so many ways Elegant Entertainment was wasting money that it almost made her head spin. Mathew probably wouldn’t want to hear any of it, but if Vicky could continue to pay attention to this sort of thing, maybe when she finally had enough saved to break out on her own, she’d be able to set herself apart from the rest of the party planners out there.

  Still, she would have been bored out of her mind if not for the way Dante kept his hand on her thigh all through the meal. At first she’d worried someone would notice, but everyone seemed to have their attention locked in on conversation. Everyone but Dante.

  “I think it’s important that we really drive home the fact that Andrew is a man first and a superhero a distant second. His identity is as a father, not a masked man—that’s the guy the audience will relate to.” Dante never hesitated as he spoke, but all the while, his fingers were tracing patterns on her skin until it was all Vicky could do not to jump him right then and there.

  Until Reed spoke, and her entire body went on high alert. “I think you’re overestimating our target audience. People come to these movies for muscles and explosions. No one gives a rat’s ass about the hero’s relationship with his twelve-year-old kid.”

  As much as she didn’t want to draw Reed’s attention, considering she’d avoided it so far, Vicky couldn’t keep her mouth shut. She’d been a movie star’s sibling too long. “And if you continually target nothing but the lowest common denominator of moviegoer, the franchise will die a slow, comedic death. Character depth keeps people coming back—explosions don’t.”

  Reed glanced her way, but there was no recognition in his gaze. “Maybe you should leave the commentary to the professionals. Your job is just to sit there and look pretty.”

  The comment made Vicky bristle, but the patterns on her thigh had stopped being random. Over and over, Dante was drawing a heart on her skin until she finally turned her attention to him. “Don’t let him get to you, Vicks,” he whispered. “You’re right, and most people here know it. And even if they don’t, I do.”

  Smiling, she let him get back to his industry talk while she reveled in the way he made her feel. As out of her element as she felt during the meal, his touch let her know they were still together. And with the way he’d kept inching her skirt higher and higher, she had no doubt he’d show her just how close together they could get once they were back at his place.

  For now, though, they were done, and without any additional attitude from Reed. The cast was still chatting as everyone stood, but people were polite enough to include her in their good-byes, so she didn’t feel totally left out.

  As she was headed toward the coat check with Dante, Saul called out, “Dante, one more thing before we leave.”

  Smiling at him, Vicky said, “I’ll get my wrap. Go. Work.”

  He squeezed her fingers. “You’re the best. Be right back.”

  Around the corner, she handed over the claim tags and waited.

  “So, it’s Vicky Stone. Why didn’t you tell me who you were at Saul’s party?”

  Vicky’s shoulders went tight under the black lace. Reed. Damn it. So much for a clean getaway. She plastered on a smile and turned to him as she took her silk shawl and wrapped it around her body. “It didn’t really seem important.”

  “Of course it’s important. Everything about a woman I plan to have in my bed is important.” Reed reached out a hand and brushed a thumb over her cheek.

  Ew. Vicky took a step back, putting a nice layer of distance between them. “I appreciate the offer, but I value my job. It would have been a really bad idea. Besides, I heard a rumor Saul caught some people in the house after the party and wasn’t very happy about it.” True enough, even if Jade’s rumor mill wasn’t grinding right. After all, Saul had caught her sneaking out.

  “He might not have caught anyone if the other ladies hadn’t been waiting for you to join us.”

  Double ew. He was exactly the kind of disgusting creep both Dante and Jade had said. Dinner threatened to come back up for a second showing—all over his designer suit.

  …

  “So, you don’t think that’ll be a problem?” Saul asked.

  “Not at all,” Dante said. Saul was way too stressed about a movie they hadn’t even started filming yet. “If there’s nothing else…?”

  “No. Go. Have a great night. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Thank goodness. He was about to turn toward the coat check when he heard Reed’s voice. “He might not have caught anyone if the other ladies hadn’t been waiting for you to join us.”

  Dante flashed back to the party, to the three women Reed had had in his room, to Vicky half naked and planning to crawl in bed with the asshole. Something inside him that he hadn’t felt since the night the knife had gone into the muscle of his shoulder roared to life. He was done playing nice with this piece of shit. Rounding the corner, Dante grabbed Reed and yanked him away from Vicky. “You stay the fuck away from her, Russell. She’s with me.”

  “Or you’ll what? Go all Inferno on me?” Reed held up his hands, mock-shaking them as if trying to ward Dante off. “Look at me, I’m terrified. You can’t touch me, Palladino.”

  Fury boiled up inside him, and he was ready to threaten his own career by knocking Reed’s head through a wall when Vicky said, “Back off, Dante.”

  “What?”

  “I don’t need a hero. It’s under control.”

  Was she kidding? Reed had been moving toward her when Dante saw him. The guy was a predator. He knew it. She knew it. How the hell could she act like this was no big deal?

  She laid a hand on his arm and met his eyes. “Please, Dante. Let’s just go.”

  He was ready to do as she asked—they’d even turned around and headed toward the door—when Reed laughed. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  Every muscle in Dante’s body tightened, ready to spring on his costar. “Go home, Russell.”

  “Just tell me I’m wrong. Tell me you aren’t boning the waitress.”

  Dante spun on his heel and backed Russell against the wall outside the coat check. “You little piece of shit. You don’t talk about her like that.”

  “My God, you are. Saul’s going to love this.”

  Vicky was tugging at his arm, but Dante didn’t care. He wasn’t leaving until the jerk got a piece of his mind, and preferably a piece of his fist to go with it. “She’s my best friend’s sister, and Saul knows perfectly well why she’s here. You’re the one who likes to make trouble. What was the one chick? Seventeen? Sixteen?”

  “Doesn’t matter. Saul kicked her out.”

  “You filthy son of a bitch.”

  Vicky ducked under Dante’s arm to stand between them. “Stop it. Let’s just go. He isn’t worth this.”

  “Fine.” His fist flew past her face and slammed into the wall less than an inch from Reed’s ear. “But you stay the hell away from Vicky if you know what’s good for you.”

  It didn’t quite register why, but Vicky’s face went tight
as he said the words, her eyes narrowed in what looked like anger. Lips pressed in a hard line, she shoved him toward the door.

  Reed, on the other hand, seemed to find the whole thing funny. Another laugh burst from his lips. “At least my jailbait was only looking to bang one actor. Seems your little whore will take whichever movie star dick comes along.”

  Before Dante could move, Vicky twisted around and smacked Reed. “You know, I used to believe tabloids had to exaggerate to sell papers. Then I met you. There isn’t a level of hell deep enough for you to burn in, you disgusting piece of shit.”

  She was out the door a second later, Dante trailing behind her. “I told you. I warned you about the type of person he was, Vicky. If you’d only listened—”

  They hadn’t even reached his car when she spun on him, her hands flat on his chest as she shoved. “Screw you, Dante. I told you that I didn’t need a fucking hero. I had everything under control until you decided to storm in, guns blazing, and blow everything out of proportion. Yes, he’s an ass—a colossal ass—but I was dealing with him fine without you deciding blows needed to be exchanged. Without you making it obvious to him and anyone in hearing distance that not only am I sleeping with you, but I was stupid enough to think about fucking him, too. God!”

  The heat leaked out of him. She didn’t understand. She still didn’t see how awful Reed was. “Vicky, he never would have let you walk out of there.”

  “Then I would have asked for help. But there was a whole world of possibilities of how that could have gone down that didn’t involve him publicly calling me a whore, you punching a damn wall, or me slapping him—all in front of your boss and your costars. Damn it.” She raked her hands through her hair, yanking on the golden strands in frustration. “I’m starting to think you really were looking for a way out of whatever we have going on, because you sure as hell ruined any chance of the people you work with taking me seriously.”

  “Don’t you throw me under that bus. If you hadn’t planned to fuck Reed in the first place, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”