I dialled Kelly’s home line, waiting a few seconds before the phone picked up. “Kia ora,” a man answered, saying hello in Maori, something New Zealanders often did.
“Is this Tom Hamlin?” I asked to be sure.
“Yes.”
“This is Eric Firth. I’m calling you because unfortunately your wife had a little too much to drink. She didn’t realise the fruit punch had alcohol in it and took a fancy to it. Are you able to come and collect her? She’s too drunk to put in a taxi.”
“What have you done to her?! No, don’t even fucking answer. I’m on my way, and, Eric, if you so much as touched her, I swear to God, I will fuck you over.”
He hung up, the man’s uncouth overreaction annoying me. My attention moved back to Kelly, who was now sleeping. My gaze lowered down her body, realising I needed to explain to her husband why she was wearing the red dress. It didn’t matter, Natalija could tell him it was hers. They were a similar height and delicious build, though Kelly’s breasts were natural.
I leaned down and gave Kelly a kiss on the lips, then pulled back, wishing I could do more. Although I had every intention of stealing her from her husband, I wasn’t going to take what wasn’t freely offered. So, until she said yes, I would just have to be patient.
I pushed up from the bed and headed out of the room, going downstairs to look for Natalija—my live-in fuck friend. I spotted her across the room, talking to Damian. He was doing what he did best: trying to angle for sex. He had his hand on Natalija’s hip and was talking into her ear, probably whispering all the sleazy things he wanted to do to her. The man was impossible, hitting on anyone attractive whether they were male or female. Yet, although Damian was a sex addict, the moment he realised his advances weren’t welcome, he would back off—unlike me, who pressed until I got whatever I desired.
I headed for my two friends. Natalija welcomed me with a dazzling smile. I knew she wanted more than a friendship, but she also knew we weren’t compatible. Sex was one thing, falling in love was another. She made my cock rise, but my heart didn’t thump the same way it did with Kelly, plus Natalija had a few issues—mainly her temper.
“Hello, darling,” she said, her Russian accent thick. “I saw you leave with that woman. I didn’t think you were coming back.”
“I’m the host, I cannot disappear for long. Plus, I didn’t leave to have sex with her, if that’s what you’re insinuating.”
“Although you want to,” she said, her lips pulling tight, giving me the impression she was upset.
“I hope you’re not jealous, Natalija, because there’s no need to be.”
She placed an arm around Damian’s waist. “Not at all, darling, I have Damian to keep me company. So, why didn’t you have sex with the married woman?”
“She’s passed out,” I answered, ignoring her nasty tone. “Which is your fault.”
“Why is it my fault if she can’t hold her liquor?”
“She was drinking the fruit punch, which I told you to make non-alcoholic.”
A smile pulled at her lips, her eyes sparkling at me mischievously. “I was hoping to get you drunk and have my wicked way with you.”
I glared at her, annoyed she would risk my health. “You know I can’t drink, it was just lucky I didn’t have any.”
She lifted up her glass. “You were much more fun when you drank.”
I kept my temper in check, because I needed her tonight. “I have a favour to ask of you. Kelly’s husband is coming to pick her up. Can you answer the door when he arrives? I want you to work your charms on him.”
She smiled wider. “I’ll be happy to. And really, you were rather selfish not to include me in that little orgy you had with them.”
“A threesome isn’t an orgy.”
“It would’ve turned into one with me there. And I would’ve distracted her husband for you. He was rather delish.”
“Yes, he was,” Damian piped up. “Pity he doesn’t like men.”
Natalija laughed. “I could tell he wasn’t into men with the way he looked at me.” She placed a hand on my arm. “Do you want me to work on getting him to agree to a foursome? Because with the way his wife was looking at you, I’m sure she wouldn’t object to getting together again. That is, as long as I can get her husband interested, which I’m sure I can.”
I smiled, happy that it was so obvious that Kelly was attracted to me. Once we had a few more romps, I knew I could eventually get her to cave into having sex with just me, which I hoped the book tour would help with. I was going to take a break from work and attend it with her, not something I’d ever done for an author, but she wasn’t just business, she was my pleasure.
I chatted with my friends for a few more minutes, then Natalija excused herself, saying she needed to get some fresh air while she waited for Kelly’s husband to arrive. Both Damian and I watched as she sashayed off, her arse a sight to behold in the sparkly red dress she was wearing.
“So,” Damian said, drawing my attention to him. “Am I going to be Kelly’s agent because you want to fuck her, or because you’re genuinely interested in her writing? I’m sure you realise her books won’t have much of a market outside of New Zealand and Australia. Possibly, they might have one in the UK, but the US is another matter entirely.”
“I agree.”
“Then why offer her the million? You could’ve gotten her for considerably less.”
“I have more money than sense.”
Damian laughed. “So, you are trying to buy her, not her books.”
I smiled. “You know me so well.”
“Still, a hundred grand would’ve been sufficient to turn an author’s head in your direction. A million is rather overkill.”
“I know, but as I said, I have more money than sense, and I really don’t care about giving it to her. You should’ve seen her home. It was a tiny, cluttered hole. She deserves much better. She deserves to be spoilt, not to be hidden away in that hovel. If I were her husband I would make sure she had a big house and everything her little heart desired.”
“Not everyone is as rich as you, Eric, and her husband is rather...” he paused, probably trying to think of something that wasn’t lewd, “...lovely,” he finally said.
“Only because you got hard for him. Other than that, I think I can offer her more.”
Damian shook his head. “I think you’re making a mistake with her. She’s got too much bite, and that husband of hers is certainly an eye-turner. Not saying that you aren’t, but if I had him maybe I wouldn’t be looking around so much.”
I laughed. “I highly doubt it. You change lovers more than you change clothes, and if it wasn’t for your wife, I’m sure you’d be dead by now from some sexually transmitted disease.”
“Well, I have to protect the missus, so no fun without a rubber.”
Smiling, I patted his arm. “I’ll leave you to find your next victim then.”
“You mean: lucky fucker.” He grinned wide, then turned and headed for a gorgeous woman in a silver dress. I watched him as he held out his hand, introducing himself, knowing he would be trying to get into her knickers by the end of the night.
I walked in the opposite direction, stopping to talk to some authors who were discussing gay rights in Russia. I partook in the conversation for a short time, then excused myself and moved onto the next group of people: a few agents, one author, and a TV producer, the last one of most interest to me. I chatted with him about one of my author’s books that was going to be turned into a television movie, the idea making me think of Kelly. I steered the discussion to her first novel, telling him it would make a great TV series, or even possibly a movie. He listened to me intently, and by the end of the conversation, I’d gotten him interested enough to read it.
I eventually moved onto another group, glancing at my watch halfway through the conversation. Wondering whether Tom had arrived yet, I excused myself and headed out into the foyer, stopping as my butler opened the front door. A second later, both Nata
lija and Tom entered. Kelly’s husband was wearing jeans and a T-shirt, the man’s tattoo on his right arm circling his muscular bicep. He couldn’t have been more different from me. Although a handsome man, he was rough-looking, or maybe it was the harsh expression he reserved for me that made him appear that way.
He walked up to me. “Where is she?” he asked, his tone unfriendly.
“Sleeping it off upstairs in a guest bedroom. I can take you to her.”
He nodded, then turned to Natalija, saying a farewell, his harsh expression softening, which answered my question: it was for me.
She leaned forward, giving him a peck on both cheeks, her culture allowing her to get away with it, although it brought colour to Tom’s cheeks, the man definitely attracted to her. Regardless, he instantly turned back to me, showing that he was more concerned for his wife than ogling Natalija, which I respected.
“Follow me,” I said, directing him up the staircase.
Tom stopped as we entered the bedroom, his surprised gaze locked on his wife. “Where the fuck did that dress come from? She didn’t leave home in that.”
I touched my tuxedo. “As you can see, it is formal attire tonight, and since the clothing she arrived in wasn’t appropriate, Natalija kindly loaned her a dress.”
With a frown, Tom walked over to Kelly.
“She’s perfectly fine,” I said. “Just drunk.”
“She shouldn’t be drinking, she’s allergic to tannin, but if she’s sleeping, she should be okay. It’s only when she starts shaking that it becomes a problem.”
“In what way?”
“It hurts her.”
“I’m sorry about this. The punch was meant to be non-alcoholic, since I don’t drink.”
“And, I’m to take your word that you didn’t try to take advantage of my wife?”
I straightened my back, angry with his allegation. “I would do no such thing. I am not that kind of man. My partners are always awake and willing.”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “I hope you’re serious about this contract with my wife and not leading her on so you can fuck her, because if you’re playing her, I don’t care who you are, I will take you down.”
I refrained from snapping back at him, knowing it wasn’t in my best interest. I needed to get him on my side, not alienate him further. “I am thoroughly genuine. I wouldn’t throw away a million dollars just to bed someone. It’s company money, and I have shareholders I must take into consideration.”
Tom nodded, although he still looked weary, which he had every right to be, especially since I wasn’t trustworthy in regards to his wife. He turned to Kelly and ran a hand down her face, making me wish she was mine to touch.
“Kelly,” he said. “Wake up.”
She mumbled something, but kept her eyes closed.
“Kelly, I need to take you home.”
She moaned, “Sleepy.”
He slipped his arms under her and picked her up. The man was a quite a few inches shorter than me, but looked powerful, his muscles and wide shoulders probably from his labouring job. I had investigated him as well as Kelly, finding out about his work through my contacts. He was barely treading water with his construction company, and was in desperate need of landing a large account. I knew exactly the person who could give him that, a friend who was planning on building a hotel in Tauranga, something that could take up a lot of Tom’s time.
I followed him out of the room and down the staircase. Gerard, my butler, opened the front door for us. I walked to Tom’s utility vehicle and opened the door so he could slip Kelly into the backseat.
He closed the door, then turned to me. “Sorry about jumping to conclusions.”
“Don’t worry, I understand.”
He went to turn back to the car. I placed a hand on his arm, stopping him. I removed it immediately as he tensed, the man giving me the impression he wanted to punch me. It was probably because I’d fucked his wife. He may have agreed to the threesome, but I could tell he’d only done it for Kelly. Or maybe he didn’t like me because he knew I could take her from him—which I was going to. But to do that, I needed to make him think I was more interested in group sex than splitting up his marriage.
“I see Natalija likes you,” I said.
His harsh expression dropped. “She’s a nice woman.”
“More like a beautiful one.”
“Yes.”
“Do you want to fuck her?”
His eyebrows shot up. “I’m married.”
“That’s irrelevant, especially after our threesome.”
His jaw tightened, his eyes flashing at me.
I quickly continued, “Of which Natalija was upset over. On our way home from the club, she told me off for not including her. Apparently, she wanted to bed you.”
His eyes widened. “You serious?”
“Yes. Would you have allowed her to join the group if I hadn’t foolishly left her out?”
“As long as Kelly was okay with it.”
I refrained from smiling, knowing I had him hooked. “Are you interested in getting together again, but with the four of us this time?”
“I’m not sure about that.”
“It’s only fair that you get to have a taste of another woman as your wife had a taste of me.”
His frown lines returned, my words obviously annoying him.
“Don’t take what I say the wrong way,” I corrected myself. “Everyone who partakes in group sex should get something out of it, but that night I realised I’d made you feel uncomfortable, which I didn’t mean to. When I get together with couples, everyone should feel secure. So, if Kelly and you are open to the idea, I would love to invite you two over for dinner; and maybe something else afterwards with myself and Natalija.”
“Is Natalija your wife?”
“She’s my girlfriend,” I lied. “We live together,” which was true, but not in the same room. I smiled inwardly as Tom relaxed, the man obviously not feeling as threatened since I had a ‘girlfriend’. Natalija was definitely useful.
I indicated to my house. “I should get back to the party. I’ll send Kelly an email about possible times. You two can discuss it if you’re interested, and if not, we can still get together for a dinner, just without the fun afterwards.” I raised my eyebrows at him and smiled.
Tom smiled back, getting what I was saying, the man obviously not feeling as threatened now.
I held out my hand for him to shake, his grip strong. Then he let go and got into his vehicle. Smiling, I headed back to the party, knowing that I would soon have Kelly again—naked and underneath me.
18
KELLY
I opened my eyes to a blinding headache. What the hell happened? I groaned, not even bothering to pull out my laptop from under the bed. I closed my eyes and yanked the duvet back over my head. Yelling came from another part of the house, probably the kids fighting. I rolled over, finding Tom not in bed. Good. He could deal with them. Next thing the door banged open, making me wince. It almost felt like it had whacked my head, the noise splintering my skull.
“Muuuuumm! Nicky stole the TV off me,” Remy yelled.
“Tell her to give it back,” I mumbled, just wishing he would get out. Why did they always have to come to me when their father was probably in the next room, wide awake and without the headache of the century?
Remy ran out of the room, allowing my headache to turn down a notch, although I knew he would be back to tell me that his sister STILL wouldn’t give him the TV. For some reason I started imagining Nicky holding the TV and running around the sitting room, teasing Remy with it. I snorted out a laugh, then regretted it as a shot of pain speared my head.
As predicted, Remy came rushing back in, yelling that his sister wouldn’t listen.
“Tell your father,” I muttered, my mouth feeling dry.
Remy ran off again, yelling for his dad. I leaned over and pulled my computer out, resigned to checking my emails now. Once done, I would roll over and hopefully go
back to sleep again. After all, it was Sunday, so I shouldn’t be working—although I often did.
I placed the laptop on Tom’s side of the bed and opened up my hotmail, groaning at all the emails I’d received. I deleted the first seven, half of them spam or mentions of birthdays for people I barely knew on Facebook. I stopped at an email from Eric... Oh shit! I had gotten drunk at his party. I swallowed, the dryness now making sense. So, this was what a hangover felt like. I’d never been drunk in my life. I frowned, wondering why I’d gotten drunk, because I’d only had fruit punch. My frown deepened. What the fuck did he give me? Had he taken advantage of me? And how did I get home? I quickly swung my feet over the side of the bed, scared that I’d driven. I peeked through the blinds, relieved to find that my car wasn’t in the driveway.
I turned back to the computer and clicked open his email:
Dear, Kelly,
I would like to apologise for what occurred at the party. Natalija mistakenly put alcohol in the fruit punch, which is why I didn’t know. Once I discovered what had happened, I helped you to a guest room and phoned your husband immediately. He came and took you home. I hope you don’t have too much of a hangover, and when you’re ready, please contact me so we can arrange a time for you to collect your car.
On another note: I spoke to your husband last night and also apologised to him, but for a different reason. I think I was unfair to him and Natalija for not including her in our ménage à trois. So, I asked him if you both would like to have dinner with myself and my girlfriend, Natalija, and...
Surprised, I stopped reading. The Russian woman was his girlfriend? But he said... then why did he... I rubbed my head, totally confused. I was sure he’d said she was just a friend—or maybe I had heard him wrong, only wanting her to be one. Was I jealous? But why would I be? I didn’t want him in my life—other than to publish my books, so I had no right to be jealous, especially since I’d turned him down. I breathed out, wishing the headache would stop pounding so I could think properly. I looked back at his email.
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