International Guy: Milan, San Francisco, Montreal (International Guy Volumes Book 2)

by Audrey Carlan

  Maybe this client won’t be an issue after all.

  2

  The bar is barely filled with patrons when I pull out a stool and place my tired ass in a seat. We picked a spot right in front of the big screen at the bar so we could catch the Giants playing the Brewers without our view impeded. These days, it feels like I never catch a game as it’s happening. My DVR is practically maxed out. I need to spend a weekend at home burning through nothing but the games I’ve missed. My mind immediately adds a fuckhot blonde curled against my front while we lie on my leather sofa and take in the game.

  I think Skyler would appreciate the serenity of sitting around and loafing on the couch. Eating hot dogs, chips, and nacho cheese followed by some rowdy sex. Yep, I’m certain my girl would be up for it.

  “Hey, man, you know what the end score was for the Red Sox by any chance?” I ask the bartender as he approaches.

  He nods and wipes his hands on a towel. “It was awesome, man. They won eight to five against the Orioles.”

  I lift my hand and high-five the guy. Man code. I could tell by the enthusiasm in his tone he was happy the Red Sox won. “Sweet! Can I have a pint of the Almanac IPA? Gotta drink the local brew while I can.”

  “Same for me.” Royce lifts his chin and maneuvers his big body onto a stool. He’s obviously taking a break from his normal whiskey neat, which isn’t unusual when he’s having a meal. Though I wouldn’t be surprised if he switched after dinner.

  “Two Almanacs coming right up. You want a menu?”

  “Sure do. Thanks,” Royce says.

  When the bartender leaves, Royce doesn’t hesitate before turning toward me and leaning against the bar. Almost the same exact body positioning Bo took in Copenhagen when I was spewing my fears about Sky and me.

  “What?” I frown.

  “Wasn’t Rochelle the shit?”

  I’m pretty sure I look like one of those stress dolls with the bulbous eyes that bug out when you squeeze it really hard. “Dude, seriously? What was with the nickname?”

  Royce rubs at his chin. “Man, what you talkin’ about?”

  “Chellie. When did she become Chellie and not Rochelle, or hell, even Ms. Renner, since she’s a client.” There’s no hiding the irritation in my tone; it’s like a live wire running through me.

  “Says the man who fucked not one, but two clients in the past few months.” He holds up two fingers to emphasize his point.

  I wince and suck in a large breath, planning to let out what I’ve got to say quickly and, I hope, painlessly for us both. Still, he’s nailed me to the wall. He’s got me stuck, at war between needing him to see the truth in this scenario—how it’s going to turn out all kinds of bad—and acknowledging what I did. “I get this is a pot-and-kettle vibe you’re feeling, but man, this woman, she is not for you.”

  He scowls. “Not that I want to go there, but I’d sure as fuck like to know why you think you’ve got a lock on why she’s not the woman for me? Seeing as I met her, have been talking to her for the past three weeks, and got to know her pretty fuckin’ well. What, just because I grew up with a shit-drunk father in a shit-hole two-bedroom house, working at the age of fifteen to help pay bills, does that mean I’m not good enough for a woman who’s living the high life? You don’t think I can play ball with the bigwigs or somethin’?”

  A sledgehammer to the face would have hurt less. My entire body locks down, preparing for battle. “Fuck no! Jesus, Roy. Your upbringing, brother, it’s something to be proud of. Taking care of your sisters and mother when you were only a teenager. Helping make ends meet any way you could while still pulling in the grades? I have more respect for you than any man I know.”

  Royce seems to firm his jaw as he focuses his gaze straight ahead. Him not making eye contact burns like a white-hot poker to the heart.

  “I know what you went through growing up. Father who put you in the hospital, mother who worked till her fingers bled, taking care of four kids.” I shake my head. “Mad respect. Though part of your history is what makes me see that Rochelle is not like you. She has zero interest in settling down for the long haul.” I note the obvious from our conversations with her.

  “So? What does that have to do with anything? Besides, she said she wanted a kid.”

  I nod. “Yeah, to set her legacy in place, to hand over her company one day. I do not see that chick taking time off work or even being a typical working mother. Nannies will be raising any child she has. There’s nothing wrong with that, but it’s not you. You come from a tight-knit family. The loyal, get-in-your-face type, like mine. You gonna tell me that’s not the type of woman you want for the future?”

  He shrugs. “Not sure what I want. All I know is there’s something between us. I can feel it in the air.”

  “It’s lust, Roy. Believe me, I know it when I see it. You’re hot for her. As you should be. Every man in his right mind would be bending over backward to get in there.”

  Royce rubs at his bottom lip with his thumb. “The woman sure is fiiiine.”

  I sigh. “Yeah, she is. She also wants to find the perfect man to play housemate with her so she’s not lonely at night. Wants to look good at events with a trophy on her arm. Roy, she doesn’t want an alpha-male type like yourself, even if you push one another’s hot buttons. She wants a submissive man. Someone who worships her and caters to her every need.”

  “What makes you so sure? Just because you’re in good with Skyler, for the first time in fuckin’ forever, you think you’re the expert on love now?” He scowls. “’Sides, I didn’t get that from her feedback.” He grabs one of the pints the bartender sets down in front of us.

  I try to ignore the jab he threw, and continue undaunted. He needs to see what I see. Open his freakin’ eyes to the obvious. “You weren’t reading between the lines. Part of what I do in my role is figure out what the client really wants, even if they don’t know it, or think they know it, and I have a pretty good track record, as you know.”

  He shrugs.

  “Roy, I’m telling you, she wants a submissive male. Mark my words. You go there with her, not only will we lose a client, which I can handle—risked that myself, as you pointed out—but I don’t want to see you losing your heart in the process.”

  The bartender interrupts by handing us both menus.

  “Do you have a pulled-pork sandwich?” I ask without looking at the menu.

  “Course.”

  “I’ll have that with fries.” I hand back the folded piece of paper.

  “Same for me.” Royce passes his menu too.

  When the bartender leaves, I watch the big screen, allowing Royce a few moments to collect his thoughts. The Giants score a run with a runner on second base.

  Royce sips his beer and then rubs his bald head with his free hand. “Not sure how I can avoid the heat between us, Park. Not sure I even want to,” he admits, concern coating his words.

  I nod. “Feel ya, brother. Still, I think it’s in your best interest to fight it.”

  He purses his lips and nods succinctly. The two of us continue our evening watching baseball, drinking beer, and eating a helluva good pulled-pork sandwich. The silence isn’t as comfortable as it usually is, but it’s my cross to bear. One I will willingly take on for what I believe is the greater outcome.

  Back at the hotel, my cell rings, and I see “Peaches” on the display.

  “Hey, baby, you’re done early tonight.” I grin and flop onto the bed in my underwear.

  “Not really, it’s midnight here, but we did have a good day. With your chemistry tips, we were able to shoot all the sexy scenes the last few days. The director didn’t want to risk waiting.” She chuckles.

  I clench down on my molars, not wanting the jealousy monster to claw its way to the surface, especially since I’m the one who gave her costar the tips he needed. Instead of asking for details, I change the subject. “That’s good. What are you filming next?”

  “My action scenes! I’m super excited about th
em too. I’ve been taking krav maga training, which is helping give me a more realistic approach to my combat scenes.”

  “And probably a killer workout too.” I imagine her body moving across the floor, punching mightily, getting all slicked up with sweat. A flicker of arousal glimmers at the edges of my subconscious as I attempt to focus on the conversation.

  “Well, you’re not here, so I’ve got to burn off the restless energy somehow.” Skyler’s voice lowers to the sultry timbre I recognize as her bedroom voice.

  Well, there goes the hold I had on my arousal. Time to kick it up a notch. I want to see my girl. I smile and click the “FaceTime” button on my phone. She accepts it pretty quick because, in mere seconds, I’m gifted with her pretty face and soulful brown eyes.

  “Peaches, you are so beautiful.”

  She smiles huge, which makes her more magnificent.

  “Have I told you I like you today?” she responds.

  I shake my head. “Nah, but I sure as fuck like you. A lot.” I waggle my eyebrows to get her giggling.

  “Me too, honey.” I watch as she enters her kitchen. I can see the cabinets in the background and her movements telling me she’s opening the fridge.

  Boo. I was hoping for some sexy FaceTime. Still, I’ll settle for conversation.

  “What are you doing over there?” I ask, watching her move around her space.

  “Haven’t had dinner yet.”

  I frown. “I thought you usually got something with Rick.”

  She crinkles her nose and pouts. “I spent all day kissing and touching him.”

  Kill. Me. Now.

  It doesn’t matter that Rick presented himself as a brother-type figure to Sky when I met him—I don’t want any man touching what’s mine. And Skyler is mine. I’m going to hold on to her with both hands and never let go.

  Sky crinkles her nose and continues. “The last thing I want to do is have a meal with him. I mean, Rick’s cool, and the things you taught him are definitely helping, especially the chewing gum before a scene.” She runs a hand through her hair and blows on the loose bangs hanging over her forehead. “Thank you, by the way. No more onion breath.” She raises her hand as if she’s fist-bumping me.

  I laugh and watch my girl as she sets about making herself a PB&J, one of her favorites. God, now that I have her in my life, I wouldn’t know what to do if I didn’t have this. Her telling me about her day, looking absolutely tousled and gut-wrenchingly fantastic at the same time.

  “What did you do tonight?” she asks, and this incredible feeling warms my body from the inside out. Being able to share with someone who cares what I was up to, how my day went, and whether I was happy or sad. It’s nice. Not a luxury I’ve ever had before.

  “Visited a pub with Roy. Watched the game.”

  “Oh yeah? Which teams?”

  “Giants versus Brewers. Giants won.”

  Her eyes light up. “Oh, that reminds me. I heard the Red Sox won today. One of the camera guys was talking about it. Bet that made you happy.”

  Even at work she’s thinking of me, as I do about her. It’s amazing how thoughts of your significant other can weave into your day. Lately I find that there’s always something I want to tell her about or think she might find funny or interesting. Then again, knowing I have someone to vent to if I have a rough day or one of the guys pisses me off is a surprising blessing. The only thing better would be coming home each night to a warm bed with her in it.

  “Peaches, do you like baseball?”

  She shrugs and sets the phone down on the counter so I can see her upper body. She opens the peanut butter and slathers on a heaping serving. I’m glad to see she’s eating a bit more lately. In my opinion, she was far too slight. This man likes a little meat on his woman’s bones.

  “I don’t not like baseball, or sports for that matter. My dad used to love baseball, so I know more about that sport than any other. I haven’t been to a live game, though. Maybe you can take me.”

  Exactly what I was thinking. “Oh, baby, it’s a date. I’ll have Wendy check the Sox schedule and book us a couple of seats.”

  “Really?” Her eyes light up at the prospect.

  “Long as you can get away for a couple of nights, hell yeah.”

  “I think I can manage it. The director feels like she owes you. I’ll use her words as my ‘get out of jail free’ card if needed.”

  I chuckle at her savagery. “Good idea.”

  She continues to make her sandwich as I think back to the meeting earlier today with Rochelle and Royce. It’s weighing on my mind, and I can’t shake the bad vibe I have.

  “Honey . . . I can see something is bothering you. Do you want to talk about it?” Her concern is soothing, breaking through the tension nudging at my temples.

  I bring her up to date on the meeting we had today and my concerns about Royce falling for the client.

  “Park, you did exactly what you’re telling him not to do.” She smirks.

  Letting out a deep breath, I nod. “Yeah, I know. Still, I have this gnawing sensation in my gut that if either one of them makes a play for the other, it’s not going to be pretty.”

  Skyler takes a big bite of her sandwich and chews thoughtfully before swallowing and adding her two cents. “Royce is a big boy. He’s got to make his own mistakes. If this is indeed one of them. You have to let him choose his own path, and if it goes to hell, be there for him as his brother in life and partner in business.”

  This woman blows me away. Her logic, compassionate soul—it all comes so effortlessly with her. “You’re so wise. Must be why I’m falling for you.” And I realize what I’ve admitted.

  My girl licks her lips and sets down her sandwich before picking up the phone, bringing it closer so I can see more details of her face. “Now why did you have to go and say something so freakin’ sweet when I can’t be there to show you my response properly?” She pouts.

  I laugh, so damn thankful she didn’t backtrack or slow down where this is moving. Not wanting to make too much of it, yet eager to hear what she’d do if I were there, I smile and ask, “Oh, and what would your response be?”

  Her face lights up with joy, and the sensation of relief turns into a simmering excitement, anticipation of all this woman could bring to my future settling nicely in my heart.

  “To tell you I feel the same, and I’m falling for you too.” She cocks an eyebrow.

  “Oh yeah?” I grin ear to ear. This is a major step for me, for us. Not a scenario I ever thought I’d be in after the shit show with Kayla back in college. Skyler and I may have jumped into the sack lightning fast, but we’ve taken our time getting to know each other these past months. It feels good to admit she’s more to me than any other woman from my past.

  “Yeah,” she murmurs sweetly, and I wish with my whole being I could be there to kiss her lips and make slow, passionate love to her, sealing this new phase in our relationship.

  “What would you do afterward?” I prompt, trying to get her to play along.

  She taps at her lips. “After? Hmm . . . I’d likely jump your bones.”

  I bite down on my bottom lip, trying to hold back the wide grin her words bring. “Let’s speed forward to the part where you jump my bones. How exactly would you go about doing such a thing?”

  Skyler glances off to the side, taps at her beautiful pink lips again as if she’s deep in thought about the best way to achieve her desired outcome. “I’d start by straddling your lap.”

  “Mmm. Good start. And . . .”

  “I’d get really close to your face, hands on your shoulders.”

  My dick perks up at the visual she presents in my mind. Having her soft naked body in my lap, rubbing against my hardening erection. I’d run my hands up her back and down the silky skin of her arms. That simple touch would have her nipples hardening, and she would arch forward to offer me a succulent pink tip.

  I suck in a harsh breath and run my hand down the bricks of my abdomen toward my dic
k. “Would I have clothes on or off?”

  She shrugs nonchalantly. “Could be either. I’d take you how you came.”

  “How I come . . . this gets better and better,” I snicker, even though my boxer briefs suddenly feel an entire size too small over my rapidly growing erection.

  Sky rolls her eyes.

  “Then what? Baby, don’t leave me hanging.” I run a hand over the stiff ridge of my shaft and give it a firm squeeze.

  She crinkles her nose in the cute way I’ve come to adore. “No, you’re going to make fun of me.”

  I shake my head avidly. “No, Peaches, baby, I won’t make fun of you. Tell me,” I urge, lust filling my tone, the heat of my arousal suffusing my skin.

  Skyler licks her lips and sets the phone down and away so I can see her body. She’s wearing one of her tanks, but I can see the erect tips through the thin cotton.

  In a second flat, she reaches down for the hem of her tank and whips it over her head, leaving her upper body completely bared to me.

  “Fuck!”

  I grip my dick harder than before, pleasure spiking from my pelvis and out.

  Skyler runs her hands up her belly to her pillowy mounds. Her breasts are perfection. I could look at a hundred Playboy bunny photos and not find a more fantastic pair of tits. They are a full C cup, and the right size for my hands. Her nipples and areolae are the palest pink. Sky cups her breasts as I stare at the magic before me.

  Her wicked grin proves she knows what she’s doing to me. I jerk my length once in response and let a groan slip past my lips.

  “Do you have a hand wrapped around your cock yet?” she teases.

  “You know I do.” My voice is rough, like I swallowed a box of jagged rocks.

  One of her eyebrows rises. “Show me yours. I showed you mine.”

  “Oh, you want to play that game, huh?”

  Instead of speaking, she nods. I shimmy my hips and, with one hand, rid myself of my underwear. Then I wrap one hand around my eager length once more. With the other hand, I point the phone down my body, so she can see my dick standing at attention. All for her.