Table of Contents
Link
Raven
Epilogue, Three Years Later
More in this series
Thanks for reading!
“Clandestine Affairs” - Free Sample
Also by Alexis Adaire
About the Author
Hollywood Bad Boys Club
Book 4: Link
Alexis Adaire
Twisted Pair Publishing
Contents
1. Link
2. Raven
3. Link
4. Raven
5. Link
6. Raven
7. Link
8. Raven
9. Link
10. Raven
11. Link
12. Raven
13. Link
14. Raven
15. Link
16. Raven
17. Link
18. Raven
19. Link
20. Raven
21. Link
22. Raven
23. Link
24. Raven
25. Link
26. Raven
27. Link
28. Raven
29. Link
30. Raven
31. Epilogue, Three Years Later
More in this series
Thanks for reading!
“Clandestine Affairs” - Free Sample
Also by Alexis Adaire
About the Author
1
Link
“How do I look?”
I know Jackie is just trolling for a compliment.
“Gorgeous,” I tell her.
At least I don’t have to lie. Jackie’s natural gifts are substantial: tall, long legs, great ass, and big tits that seem suspiciously firm for a woman in her mid-forties. Pack all that into a low-cut silver beaded gown with matching heels, then top it with short, stylish black hair and intense blue eyes and you’ve got every man’s attention. Most of the women’s, too. Just to make sure nobody misses her, there’s that gaudy diamond necklace, sparkling like fire in the Los Angeles sunlight, immediately drawing the eye to her exposed cleavage. Jackie Hightower does indeed look gorgeous.
“Thank you, Link. You look quite dapper yourself.”
I’ve been called a lot of things in my life, most of them unsavory, but this is the first time anyone has ever referred to me as “dapper.” It’s got to be the black Calvin Klein tux I’m wearing, tailored to fit my big frame. It’s uncomfortable, but most uniforms are. I’m more of a jeans and T-shirt guy myself.
“Shall we?” Jackie struts toward the sleek black limo waiting in the drive of her Bel-Air mansion. The driver opens the door for her, and I go to the front passenger door to take a seat.
“Don’t be silly, Link, sit back here with me.”
I do as told and join her in the back seat. I steal another glance at those tits as Jackie slips her iPhone out of her small purse and checks the time, then nods to herself.
“Are you nervous?” she asks when we’re rolling.
“About what?”
“About the Oscars, of course. Is this your first time?”
“No, my second. The red carpet will be a first, though. But no, I’m not nervous at all.”
When she smiles, I notice the fire engine red lipstick and immediately think of watching those lips work my cock. I know that fantasizing about your boss can lead to bad places, but I can’t help myself. Jackie is the only female studio head in town right now, with a successful track record going back half a decade. She rarely makes a poor decision when it comes to movies, and she knows it. That arrogance is sexy as hell.
“Good, because there’s nothing to be nervous about. The worst that ever happens at these things is an overzealous fan wanting a picture or autograph, but I’m no movie star, so they won’t give a shit when I walk by. Mostly it’s just the damn reporters and their microphones.”
She catches me looking her over and looks me square in the eye. “You really like this gown, don’t you?”
“Like I said, you look gorgeous.”
The corners of those red lips turn up in a sly smile and I sense she’s about to say something. Maybe something suggestive. But her phone rings in her lap and she presses her thumb to the screen, bringing it to her ear.
“Michael!” He says something and her gaze drops to the large grouping of diamonds sitting between her tits. Of course, my eyes follow. “Yes, Reuben brought them by earlier. They’re spectacular.”
They are, both the diamonds and the tits. Together, they’re quite the combination.
As she talks, I remember our first meeting months ago, when my friend Mason Stark brought me with him to Jackie’s luxury office at Trident Studios for intimidation purposes. Mason is six feet tall himself, but his male model looks scare no one. I, on the other hand, am six-five and weigh three hundred and ten pounds, all of it solid muscle. I fucking scare everyone. Mason had to convince Jackie to agree to play dirty in some showbiz dealings and wanted me around to distract her, to throw her off her game. It worked, because the bitch kept checking me out every few minutes. Hell, she spent as much time looking at me as she did Mason, though I doubt I said ten words while we were there. At the time, it was hard to get a read on her; I thought maybe she was just stunned by my sheer size.
Now I as sit here, looking at that gown tightly clinging to her shapely frame, I’m starting to think she had something else in mind. I tell myself not to get carried away, she might have been sizing me up for a security gig. After all, that’s what I do, provide personal security for rich Hollywood types—actors, directors, producers, and in Jackie’s case, a groundbreaking studio CEO. Still, I definitely wouldn’t pass up the chance with her if I had one. This is one very fuckable older woman.
Jackie had gotten my number from Mason and had her assistant call me about two previous security jobs, but I was already booked for those dates. For the Oscars, she had reserved me four months in advance.
After squeezing into my tux earlier, I arrived at her mansion and was buzzed through the gate. That same assistant greeted me and escorted me to the living room to wait. Every item in the entire massive house looked ridiculously expensive. Moments later, Jackie entered the room in that gown, looking spectacular. She glided up to me and tiptoed to almost-kiss my cheek, then said, “I don’t normally do air kisses, but I don’t want to smudge you with lipstick.”
I forced a smile—they don’t come naturally to me.
“It’s so good to see you again, Link,” she said. “Do me a favor?” She spun around and I saw that the gown was unzipped, all the way to the top of her ass. No bra. Her back looked inviting, and this may have indeed been a subtle invitation, or at least a prelude to one. I slowly slid the zipper upward till it reached her neck, wanting the entire time to bend her over and lift that dress up to her waist.
Jackie hangs up the phone. “So, you know the drill, right?” I’m jolted back to the present moment, in the limousine.
I nod. “Stay fifteen or twenty feet behind you, as if we’re not together. And don’t let shit happen.”
Jackie smiles. “’Don’t let shit happen.’ I like that. Are you carrying a gun?”
She hadn’t specifically requested that I arm myself, but I always carry when I’m on the job. I open my tux jacket to show her the Glock 26 nine millimeter strapped to my chest.
She looks at the gun with fascination, then says, “Sexy. But you won’t be needing that today.”
I say nothing, but glance at her legs and the silver heels on her feet. Her toenails are shiny like chrome.
The car pulls onto Hollywood Boulevard and I see the crowds on both sides of the st
reet. Temporary bleachers are filled with people craning their necks to see which stars are arriving. They’ll be disappointed with us; Jackie isn’t a household name and nobody knows who the fuck I am.
Our door swings open and Jackie steps out first because she’s on that side of the limo. Camera flashes go off like crazy, then stop abruptly when the photographers don’t recognize her. When I exit the car, they just shrug and look toward the next arriving limo.
The red carpet extends into the Dolby Theater in the heart of Hollywood, where the Oscars ceremony is held. Lining both sides are fans, clamoring for a better view. Reporters and camera operators are everywhere, and I spot several well-known actors and actresses being interviewed. Jackie and I move along relatively unnoticed. Well, I’m totally unnoticed, and she’s only stopped a couple of times by actors and directors who recognize her. It’s a strange thing about Hollywood: Studio heads wield all the power in this town, yet for the most part retain their anonymity.
I maintain my distance behind Jackie, but really don’t have much to do on this job other than keep an eye out for anything suspicious. The Oscars security people scattered around are doing the heavy lifting here, because nobody can get on the red carpet without proper credentials.
As we move along, I look around for Drake Manning, one of the world’s most famous actors and a close friend, but don’t see him anywhere. Mason, the big shot agent who took me into Jackie’s office that day, is likewise nowhere to be found. The three of us are the founders of the Hollywood Bad Boys Club, our little social group dedicated to pussy and alcohol. Los Angeles Lakers star Marcus Jennings is the fourth and final member of the club. Not so long ago, the four of us would get together, drink heavily, and brag about all the hot ass we got. Drake and Marcus because they’re handsome and famous, Mason because he’s handsome and influential, and me because I’m an ugly asshole who doesn’t give a shit whether a chick likes me or not. Women seem to be attracted to that for some reason. Lately, though, it seems like our little group is less about pussy and more about wedding registries, with Drake and his girl Allie’s big day coming up soon. Mason and Marcus have also entered into serious relationships in the last year, and I remain the lone holdout. That’s not likely to change, because I don’t want a relationship, and no woman would be comfortable around me for longer than the time it takes to fuck.
Logan Kenner, a two-time Best Actor Oscar winner, stops Jackie for a quick word. He introduces his “date,” who’s actually his ten-year-old daughter, all glammed up in a little gown and a hairstyle that probably set her dad back a thousand bucks. The cute kid looks like she’s having the time of her life. As Logan and Jackie chat, I hang back and carefully survey the scene. Nothing looks the slightest bit out of place, though. Like I said, today’s gig is an easy one.
I’m momentarily distracted by one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen, a blonde who walks past in a sheer gown that proves her complete lack of underwear. I can’t quite see her pussy, but there are definitely no panties there, and her nipples are as visible as my hand. She’s stunning, her perfect body gliding along on the arm of some rich old fucker, and all I can do is stare.
Suddenly I hear a scuffle behind me and turn to see Jackie and Logan Kenner facing a scrawny man in jeans and a gray jacket over a T-shirt. This guy obviously doesn’t belong on the red carpet.
“You owe me!” he yells at Kenner. Jackie takes a step back and looks for me. I start to move in her direction when the intruder sees security guards running toward him and reaches into his jacket, pulling out a shiny silver handgun. In a split second, he’s grabbed Kenner’s daughter and has the gun pointed at her temple. The girl screams and gasps are heard all around as the security guards stop in their tracks.
“You ruined me!” the man yells as Kenner’s kid starts bawling. Cameras all turn towards him and everything grows eerily quiet, people frozen to the spot.
Kenner tries to remain calm, even though his daughter’s life hangs in the balance.
“I don’t even know you,” he says in a measured tone. “Let the girl go.”
“That role was mine! My breakthrough fucking role!”
I back up a few steps, then begin taking a slow, wide arc around him. I’m thirty feet away and he’s fixed on those in his immediate vicinity.
“Buddy, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kenner says. “Put the gun down and we can discuss this. I promise I’ll make it right.”
The guy is trembling and has a manic look. I wonder if he’s on meth.
“This is my life you ruined!” he screams. “That role was mine, and you had me replaced with your friend!”
Jackie looks at me, petrified, and I nod at her as I continue my arc around the gunman.
“Let go of my daughter and I’ll make sure you get a part in my next film, I swear to you.”
The dude shakes his head.
“I’m not a fucking moron,” he says. “It’s too late. You ruined my career and I lost my fucking apartment!”
I’m directly behind him now.
“You left me with nothing and you’re going to pay!”
Anyone who holds a gun to a kid’s head is psycho, but this guy is seriously unhinged. I’ve seen a few crazy people in my life and can recognize when someone’s completely lost it. I know if I don’t act now he might very well pull that trigger. I’m close enough to make a move.
It takes me only a split second and three big steps to close the gap. With my left hand, I grab the wrist of his gun hand and swing it downward, away from the girl and pointed at the carpet. A single shot rings out just before my right fist lands hard on his elbow. Since I’m still holding his wrist, the elbow gives and bends inward to a ninety-degree angle as he shrieks in pain, dropping the gun. He can’t help but let the girl go as his forearm dangles at a weird angle. Gasps and screams come from all around. In one motion, I scoop up the gun and pull his feet out from under him, then watch as he falls backward, his head slamming against the carpet with a thud.
Just like that, it’s over. This poor dude is lying there with his arm in an unnatural position. At first, the only sound is his wailing, then things get noisy as security comes flying in and keeps him pinned against the ground. Jackie throws her arms around my waist and Kenner kneels to hug and comfort his screaming daughter. He looks up at me and says, “Thank you,” over and over. Four LAPD officers arrive, and two of them begin talking to me. I’m acutely aware that every camera within a hundred feet is trained on the aftermath.
Half an hour later, the cops have taken their reports, Jackie has planted at least a dozen kisses on my cheek then wiped off the lipstick, and Logan Kenner appears to be my new best friend. His daughter—Haley is her name—agrees to continue to the ceremony only if I sit next to her. Oscars officials hurriedly shuffle the seating arrangements to accommodate her wish, and Haley and I take our seats in the theater between Logan and Jackie.
Throughout it all, I didn’t break a sweat. The guy was so wired, I knew his reflexes would be compromised. There was no way he could point that gun at me or anyone else and pull the trigger before I broke his arm. My only concern was that his finger would close on the trigger the second I grabbed his wrist, which it in fact did, but I was forceful—and his reactions slow—and the shot fired a second too late. The slug ricocheted off the carpet and fortunately didn’t hit anyone.
The Oscars ceremony goes off without a hitch, though during the first commercial break, Robert Downey Jr. points me out from the stage and asks for a round of applause for “a real hero, unlike those of us who get millions for pretending to be one.” Apparently, word has spread about what took place outside because I get a standing ovation from the crowd in the Dolby Theater. It’s surreal to see all these famous actors turning to look at me and applauding.
I hate every second of it. I have an aversion to attention, so I just give an annoyed smile in return.
During a break, Drake and Mason find me, with their girlfriends Allie and Claire i
n tow. They’d heard about what happened and knew it was me just from the description. The only one of the four who doesn’t already know Kenner and Jackie is Allie, and Drake rolls his eyes when Kenner introduces himself and flashes his charm in her direction.
All this buzz centering around me is beginning to make me uncomfortable. I try to remain unaffected until the ceremony is finally over. As people pour out of the theater, Jackie suggests we take a different route out to avoid the reporters we’d doubtlessly be subjected to on the red carpet. A security guard leads us to an exit in the parking garage, where our limo driver has been told to pick us up.
Once we’re in the car, Jackie slips over to my side of the seat and wraps her arm around mine.
“My god, you were amazing. You saved that girl’s life.”
I can’t respond to that. She’s right, but I was just doing my job.
“Change of plans,” Jackie says to the driver. “Take us home.”
I was supposed to escort Jackie to at least two after-parties, so this new development is a surprise. I look at her quizzically.
“I’m not in a party mood anymore,” she says. “Besides, it’s obvious you don’t care for all this attention, and that’s what the rest of your night would have been like.” Then she leans in and whispers in my ear, “I’m going to fuck you, Link. Don’t even try to resist.”
She states it as only a woman in a powerful position could get away with. Jackie has been telling everyone what to do for so long, she doesn’t know any other way.
I have no intention of telling her no, though. Pussy is pussy, and this woman is hot. Besides, it’ll be interesting to fuck someone fifteen years older than me.
Jackie and I exit the limo in the circular drive in front of her huge house, and she takes me by the hand to lead me inside. Her grip is forceful enough that I know she means business.
Once inside, she heads to a bar just off the kitchen.
“This place is huge,” I say.
Hollywood Bad Boys Club, Book 4: Link Page 1