“You're really cocky, aren't you?” she says against my chest.
“I like to call it confident. I'm really confident.” I laugh at her.
“Call it what you want.” She exhales in resignation, and I know I have her.
“How long do I have to pack?” She looks up at me.
I yank my phone from my pocket to check the time. “You have forty minutes.”
She pulls herself from my embrace and begins frantically running up the stairs of her condo. “Make yourself comfortable,” she hollers as she disappears up the stairs. I smile. If I could pat myself on the back, I would. Kaylee is coming to Europe with me.
My phone vibrates in my hand, and my euphoria is short lived when Kendall's name flashes across my screen.
“Kendall,” I answer quietly and walk to the kitchen, as far away from the stairs as possible in hopes that Kaylee doesn't hear Kendall screaming through the phone.
“What in the ever-loving hell are you doing at that woman's house? Do you know it's on CNN right now? You are on goddamn CNN right now.”
I sigh loudly into the phone. “I needed to make things right.”
“That is not your goddamn job, that's mine,” she screams at me. “Your job is to get your ass on that airplane in two-hours, your butt in the seat, and not talk to anyone. Do not talk to the press. Do not talk to your mother. Do not talk to ANYONE! Leave that goddamn house and that woman, get in your car, and get to the motherfucking airport. Do you understand me?”
“Ten-four.” I end the call and smile to myself. That was one of Kendall's more epic meltdowns. I cannot wait to see what she says when she sees Kaylee's butt in the seat next to mine. I actually laugh out loud and brace myself all at the same time.
Chapter 11
Kaylee
“One…two…three…go!”
Paxton gripped my hand even tighter as he darted out my front door. I clamored down the steps behind him, praying the lock on my townhouse actually caught because we weren’t taking the time to make sure.
He made a beeline for a car parked across the lot. My huge suitcase he wheeled behind him with the opposite hand barely slowed us down.
I’m sure we made quite the sight.
What, with our heads down and our feet pounding across the pavement as if we were making a break for it.
We were.
And it was all caught on tape.
Of course, it was because the vultures had gone nowhere. They’d only gathered. As if they’d smelled blood and were circling overhead, just waiting for the right moment to dive in and take a good bite.
Oh wait, that was actually a helicopter.
Voices shouted, a slew of them vying to be the one to grab our attention. To get that one picture that would completely make their day.
As if this wasn’t enough.
Lights flashed.
Click. Click. Click.
Paxton Myles!
Paxton!
Mr. Myles, can you confirm your relationship with Kaylee Rose Burton?
Kaylee…over here…is it true you’re starring with Paxton in his next film that begins filming next month?
Were they serious right now? That alone was almost enough to make me stop and set things straight, but Paxton had given me strict instructions before we’d made our getaway.
Don’t look up.
Don’t answer.
RUN.
Paxton pressed a button on his key fob, and the trunk to a black car with even darker windows bounced open. He tossed in my suitcase and shut it just as fast. He moved even faster when he ran me around to the passenger side and hurried me in.
I’d barely blinked by the time he was sliding into the front seat and slamming shut his door. Frantic, he pressed a button to click the locks.
The sound of them engaging had us both breathing a sigh of relief, but adrenaline was still pounding through my veins.
Over the console, he looked across at me, his ridiculously handsome face cut in concern. Silence washed over us, his hands kneading on the leather of the steering wheel.
Our eyes met. Intense. Relieved. Searching for an answer for what in the hell we thought we were doing.
Then we both busted out laughing.
“Well, then,” he said as he started the car, threw it in reverse, and backed out. He barely slowed as the paparazzi scattered, cameras pressing close to the windows to try to capture a blurry image.
“So, I’m totally getting the smoked-out windows now.”
He chuckled, shifting into drive, the vantage definitely giving the scavengers the shot they were aiming for. “It’s kind of a requirement for my line of work.”
I seriously didn’t know how any person could tolerate this kind of life. It was bad enough when I attended parties with Elle, the intrusiveness of the lenses. But even Elle was able to go back to her daily life without worrying someone was capturing something private.
I couldn’t imagine dealing with this every single day.
Tires squealed when he hit the street, and he accelerated quickly, the whine of the engine loud as he gunned it, shifting gears faster than I could make sense of it
Clearly, he’d mastered the whole escape artist thing because he was weaving in and out of traffic, leaving no chance we’d been followed.
I sat back in the seat, finally allowing myself to take in my surroundings. My fingertips traced over the red stitching on the red and black leather, all the luxury and flash. “This car is ridiculous.”
Those brown eyes brimmed with mischief when he glanced my way. “What…you don’t like my Maserati? We can stop back at the house and grab a different car if it’s not to your liking.”
“Of course, we can,” I mumbled under my breath.
He laughed. “You are a hard woman to please, Kaylee Rose. Here I was, being nothing but a considerate gentleman when I picked the one car in my garage I thought maybe was as pretty as you.”
I swatted at his shoulder. “Oh, the charmer as always, Mr. Myles, rushing over to the castle of the damsel in distress to rescue her from certain demise.”
A grin split his face. “At your service, ma’am.”
I swatted him again. “You’re not allowed to do that.”
“Do what,” he defended innocently, but there was absolutely nothing innocent about what was playing out in his eyes.
“Oh, don’t do what me, mister. You know exactly what I’m talking about.” I waved an overindulgent hand his way. “The accent…the face…the smile. Don’t act like you don’t use them to your benefit.”
He shrugged, grinned as he changed lanes again and accelerated as he took to the freeway. “What? A smart man uses any resources he has in his arsenal.”
A pout pulled at my mouth. “Which is completely unfair if your opponent has absolutely nothing to stand up against them.”
My mouth dropped open when he reached out and cupped my face. Tingles spread beneath his touch, and my stomach did about fifteen backflips. Of course, it had to settle right into the nausea from earlier, humiliation and defeat rising to the surface.
My voice dropped. “What are we doing, Paxton?”
I’d just been fired from my job that had been my entire life, had been hounded by paparazzi, and had been publicly shamed and ridiculed.
And now I was running off to Europe with the man who was the root of the problem.
A Greek god who owned the screen and commanded every audience. One who was sought after and adored.
My free card.
Funny, considering it’d cost me everything.
There wasn’t anything free about it.
His thumb brushed softly under the hollow of my eye, catching the moisture I hadn’t even realized had gathered there. “We’re stealing you away from all of this.”
I shook myself out of his hold and sat back in my seat. “That doesn’t mean it’s not all going to be waiting for me when I get back.”
“You’re right, Kaylee Rose. I’m not sure even I have the po
wer to erase what happened this morning.” The seriousness in his tone shifted, and a smirk went skating onto his mouth. “But I’m sure as hell going to make sure it’s worth it.”
Bewildered, I stumbled along beside Paxton as he strode through the international terminal at LAX. My suitcase had been checked and his apparently had been handled.
Must be nice.
Okay, I had to admit this was a little bit nice. I’d be nothing but a liar if I said it didn’t feel nice with my hand firmly locked to his as we made our way down the long hall toward our gate.
“Right on time.” He flashed me a grin.
“Doesn’t the flight leave in like fifteen minutes?”
“Exactly. There’s no use getting here and having to sit around for two hours. That’s simply ridiculous.”
“Says the guy who walks into a building packed with people and the waters part for him. I’ve never made it through security that fast…ever…even when I was returning after visiting my aunt in Kentucky and there was one person in front of me. And this is an international flight.”
He lifted our entwined hands and brushed a soft kiss along the back of mine. A shiver tickled down my spine.
How did he manage that?
“Let’s just call them the perks of being famous.” He lifted a brow. Mischief danced in those warm brown eyes. “You witnessed some of the drawbacks back at your place today. What do you say we enjoy some of the advantages”
A short chuckle rolled up my throat. “That I did. I’m really not sure how you handle that part of this life.”
He shrugged. “You get used to it. After a little while, it’s little more than irritating.”
In his pocket, his phone rang again, just like it’d been doing the last hour it’d taken us to get here. And just like then, he merely ignored it and let it go to voicemail.
One second later, it pinged with yet another new message.
“Are you sure you shouldn’t answer that?”
This time both of his brows lifted, and his mouth quirked in a way that was so endearing I had the urge to pop up on my toes and press a kiss to his mouth. So I did.
A lick of fire.
His hand gripped the side of my waist, and he gave me a squeeze.
His phone pinged again.
“That is yet another drawback,” he said with an exasperated sigh. That accent. It slipped out on the last, this time genuine. This time it wasn’t used as a wicked tool to charm off my panties.
I figured the fact I was leaving the country with him pretty much guaranteed I was a sure thing.
God, I hoped so.
It rang again.
“It could be important,” I countered.
He laughed. Almost both incredulous and affectionate. “Oh, I’m sure in her mind she thinks it’s very important.”
It was instant, the bolt of unease that shocked through me.
She?
I wanted to ask. I had the right to, didn’t I? But I really had no clue what this trip really meant or what I was getting myself into.
I hadn’t even called my mother or my sisters. Even Elle didn’t know where I was.
What was I doing?
Paxton suddenly pushed me backward, edging me back two steps and against the wall. My back pressed into it as he pressed into me.
Hard.
All of him.
He buried his nose in my hair and inhaled a deep, sharp breath. A sound of approval rumbled in his chest. I trembled as he ran the tip of his nose down the slope of my neck, shivered as he ran it back up. He left a slow, seductive kiss behind my ear.
The smolder turned molten. Hot and heated. An ache pulsed between my thighs.
His voice was a whisper, “Are you trying to freak out on me right now, Kaylee Rose?”
“I…I…uh…” I stuttered and stammered, trying to regain my senses as his tongue flicked out for a taste.
Oh. God.
That did not help.
“Do you think I can’t see the panic written all over your face?” he murmured.
“I…”
“Are you thinking about bolting?”
“Um…”
I had completely lost the ability to form a coherent thought as he continued to lave kisses along my neck, as if we were on a secluded island rather than right out in the open at the airport.
People were probably taking pictures. Posting them to Instagram. Shaming me on Twitter.
#PaxtonMylesSlut
I didn’t even care.
“I really hope you don’t bolt on me, Kaylee Rose. Want to know why?”
“Mmmhmmmmm.” It was all an incoherent mumble beneath my breath.
What was that again?
“Because since the second I woke up and found my bed empty yesterday morning, all I’ve been thinking about is getting you back into it. Of ripping your clothes from this gorgeous body. Kissing you again. Tasting you again.”
A whimper.
“Don’t bolt, Kaylee…because when I get you to London, I’m going to fuck you. Hard then slow. Then I’m going to do it all over again. Don’t make me chase you down this terminal and throw you over my shoulder, because I will. Or maybe I should take you into the executive club and give you a reminder of just what you’d be missing? How’s that sound?”
Oh, yes and please.
“Final boarding call for flight 6816 with direct service to London Heathrow Airport…”
The overhead speaker broke into our little PDA sesh. The wall barely kept me from falling to my weakened knees when Paxton stepped back and gave me one of those earth-shattering smiles. The one that owned the screens and the hearts of the millions of fans who adored him.
I was certain right then it was going to be the one that crushed mine.
“Come on, before we miss our flight.”
We scanned our boarding passes on our phones, and Paxton led me down the jetway. My heart beat erratically, with confusion and need and the internal whiplash this devastating man gave me.
A flight attendant greeted us at the door, and Paxton led me about four steps down the aisle to my seat.
First class.
Which was all kinds of ridiculous and luxurious and looked more like some kind of futuristic space pod than an airplane seat.
I settled down in the cozy space and stretched out my legs, accepted the flute of mimosa I was offered.
I allowed myself to sigh out a happy sigh.
After the insane day I’d had today, I was most definitely not going to complain.
“Is it to your liking, Ms. Burton?” he asked. Letting that southern charm come out to play, he exaggerated the words.
“Why yes, it is, kind, sir.” A giggle escaped, and I was leaning forward to retrieve his kiss. We both froze when a low, enraged voice hit us like daggers.
“What the fuck is she doing here?”
Shocked, I looked up to find a woman glaring at me with the fire of a thousand suns. She was out of breath, as if she’d had to run to make the flight. A long, dark bob bounced around her shoulders when she turned the heat of her anger on Paxton.
He simply laughed and leaned back in his seat. “Nice to see you, too, Kendall.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” she hissed, leaning his direction so only he could hear. Oh, but I could. And maybe that’s what she intended. “I’ve been calling you for the last two hours and Not. A. Word. I drove back to your house in case you’d fallen asleep. I almost missed this flight because you were off picking this up? I’d think picking her up once was enough, don’t you?”
In horror, I looked over at Paxton for help. Who is this woman?
“Kaylee Rose, I’d like you to meet my favorite pain in the ass, the woman who thinks she’s keeper of my life, my publicist, Kendall Stone. He glanced at her. “Kendall, meet Kaylee.”
Kendall sneered at me without saying a word.
Great.
Yet another member of the #KayleeIsASlut fan club.
Apparently, I couldn’t win.
Paxton was fast asleep. He’d had his seat turned into a bed, and for a few moments I allowed myself to just look at him. That beautiful face was almost as peaceful as it’d been when I’d snuck from his room two mornings ago.
Pushing out a breath, I got up and headed toward the small lavatory since I’d given up on getting any rest.
The lights had been dimmed for the redeye, and the narrow aisles were lit up in a path of lights to guide the way, like their own miniature runway. Only a few overhead lamps dotted the first-class cabin, most of the passengers making use of the time to sleep.
Locking the door behind me, I wet my face and gave myself a moment to clear my head.
To make sense of the opposing feelings that tumbled within me.
Excitement.
Heartbreak.
So contrary. But they were there.
Huffing out a cleansing breath, I unlatched the door and stepped out into the dimness of the aisle.
I gasped at the figure standing there waiting for me.
Dark, pin-straight hair. Hardened jaw. Flashing eyes. Arms crossed over her chest.
I guess this #KayleeIsASlut fangirl was stalking me now.
Awesome.
I touched my chest and forced a smile. “You scared me, Kendall.”
Yeah, I called her by name even though I hadn’t shared a word with her before. The only introduction I’d gotten from her was a livid sneer before she’d made her way to her seat three rows behind us.
Red lips stretched in a smile that was pure scorn. “Don’t you dare stand there and give me the innocent act.”
I gulped around the knot that formed in my throat. “I don’t know what I did to you, but I can assure you—”
“What you did to me?” she interrupted. “Do you know what my job is, Kaylee Rose?” Her tone turned placating, as if I was dense and didn’t have the capacity to understand.
I blinked. “You’re Paxton’s publicist.”
“Right…that’s my title. But do you know what I actually do? I’m the trash keeper. The one who comes in behind him to clean up all his messes. Do you have any idea how many people try to get close to him? Take advantage of who he is? All the sluts and gold diggers and aspiring actresses who will do absolutely anything to get close to him? It’s my job to protect him from that. To keep him safe.”
One Wild Night Page 7