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Bad Boys Teaser: A Sizzling Bad Boys Anthology

Page 21

by Rie Warren


  We broke apart, shock written on both our faces. The room erupted as if the University of South Carolina Gamecocks had scored a last-second touchdown to beat the Clemson Tigers, and I stared into his violet eyes.

  “That was weird.” Nicky juggled his bronzed plaque in one hand.

  “Yeah.” I resisted the urge to scrub my mouth with a napkin.

  He sat down. I grinned beside him. With my lips to his ear, I murmured, “Just so you know, rimming is still off the table.”

  “Frotting too?”

  Douche. I’d have to look that one up.

  What seemed like hours later of fidgeting with my wineglass, fiddling with Nicky’s hair while daydreaming about silky red-gold curls, I startled when Nicky nudged me. “This is Leelee’s award.”

  “Come again?”

  “She’s a shoo-in for this one,” he whispered.

  Bat ears Missy heard him. “Our baby girl’s got this in the bag.”

  I slapped both palms onto the table and half-stood, performing another sweep of the room. No Leelee that I could see. I hated that she was missing this, her big moment, possibly because of me.

  “And the 2013 Award for Breakout New Adult Author, self-published or traditional, goes to . . .”

  Fuckin’ A, get on with it.

  The presenter opened the envelope. She glanced around then coughed. “Um, yes. The five-thousand-dollar award for this prestigious new genre goes to Georgie Saunders!”

  I growled at Nicky, “I thought you said it was a sure thing.”

  The room was alive and buzzing, apparently I wasn’t the only shocked by the outcome. Maybe it was a good thing Leelee wasn’t here after all. I could only think of one reason Leelee could have been passed over and that reason started with L and finished with Forge.

  Jules took the stage amid shouts for a recount—Hens, Widows, and the like sounding the same as they had the night I’d lost the Guys with Whatever contest, but this was more serious. This was Leelee’s career.

  Jules called out, “Let’s not be rude, friends. I believe Ms. Saunders deserves a standing O for her win tonight! Yes?”

  She clapped ferociously, and everyone followed suit. Jules might be a bulldog in a cocktail dress but she had a fair point. Saunders collected her award and the big check, looking a little flummoxed.

  “Now, let’s keep this party going! In the tradition of LitLuv, slideshow time. A faaaantastic presentation of our fave moments from the past four days of writers, readers, romance, and RAWR!” Jesus. If nothing else, Jules could go into UFC announcing after she finished her gig here.

  Lights dimmed. The show proceeded through the craziness of arrivals and registration to some shots of the more popular panels. Then there was a flash of Leelee and me in the bar, dancing before closing time. What the fuck? Jules hurriedly clicked to the next frame. More innocent photos—the book fair, the loco writers and fans at The Golden Banana. Then the goddamn tango-kiss.

  My face hardened. I felt a million eyes pinned on me. Nicky slid down in his seat.

  Jules clicked the PowerPoint. Again and again. And all the photos on the frigging massive screen were of me and Leelee in almost every compromising position possible. Kissing, touching, dancing, kissing, goddamn gazing at each other. Me coming out of her room looking well fucked. Her slipping from mine wearing my shorts and shirt. Every private motherfucking moment had been photographed. Making me out to be a big bad liar in terms of my gay cover story.

  Pretty much the only thing not being big-screen-revealed was me actually making love to her while we burned up the sheets.

  “Gotta be fuckin’ kidding me!” I pounced to my feet.

  “Holy shiznit!” Janice stared at me.

  Jacqueline smirked. “I knew.”

  “You did not!” Janice threw down her glasses and full on glared at me. “You’re gay, right, Stone?”

  Missy stifled a snort and patted my clenched fists.

  On stage, Jules was shutting down the slideshow as quickly as possible. “Well, that was interesting, no? We do pride ourselves on providing the very best in entertainment, people!” She waited for applause, teeth gritted. “However, there seems to have been some tampering with the presentation, and never fear, I will get to the bottom of this. No one messes with my PowerPoint and comes out alive.”

  An almighty scream splintered my ears and shivered down my spine. “You son of a bitch!”

  My head whipped to the left. Leelee was with LaForge, coming down hard with her heel on his instep as she choked him with his own tie. “You said you wouldn’t go after Nicky and Stone.”

  Oh, no. My woman was not protecting me against that dickhead.

  Total pandemonium ensued. Through the blood pounding in my ears and the rage blinding my vision, I saw Jules leap from the stage, beckoning her cameraman after her. The Widows scrambled in her wake. The LolliPOP Grrrls grinned at the spectacle, one tonguing her gum, the other swirling her fucking sucker in and out of her mouth.

  The Hens tweeted. I heard:

  #LitLuv13 #popcorn

  #AgentTakedown

  I was gonna break their damn smart phones, after I broke LaFuck’s neck.

  “The rules changed, Leelee, after you publicly humiliated me.” LaForge’s voice was tight due to his strangulation by tie.

  Leelee glared at me when I stormed up to them.

  “What the fuck’s goin’ on here?” Every muscle in my body tensed and my jaw pulsed dangerously.

  Leelee yanked hard at the silk in her hands. “Why do you think I blew up at him at the book fair? He showed me the photos, told me he was prepared to take them public if I didn’t agree to sign with him. Ruin me, Nicky, and you.”

  Every single moment of LaForge’s dirty tactics brought me to boiling point. Punching one hand against his chest to keep him back, I got down in Leelee’s face. “And you didn’t think to tell me? You didn’t think I’d want to protect you?”

  “I was trying to keep you, Nicky, and your son off the radar, you jackass!”

  Yeah, enough with the talking. I pulled Leelee behind me to keep her safe.

  Small hands beat at my back and Leelee shouted. “You have no honor, Stone. How do you expect to defend mine?”

  “Like this.” My fist slammed into LaForge’s jaw.

  A low moan clattered between his teeth. Not for long. I shut his trap with a fast uppercut to his chin. Satisfaction came in the echoing snap-crunch connection of my knuckles against his face. It came in his boneless body, crumpling down to the floor.

  I swiveled around to Leelee.

  With her hair down and wild around her face, her green irises absolutely spitting, she hissed, “I saw you kiss Nicky.”

  I nodded. There was no way around that.

  “Remember what you said I get to do if anyone touches you again?”

  You can call me out and kick my ass, babe.

  “Yeah. Do it,” I answered.

  She primed her fist and kept her thumb tucked inside. Her dad had taught her well. One fast snaky jab to my midsection and another to my shoulder made me grunt with surprise at her force.

  Suddenly everything was dead quiet apart from Jules commentating in hushed tones and the tap-tap-tapping of fingers on phones.

  Leelee stepped onto one foot and I knew what was coming next. A kick to the gonads would have me writhing on the floor, hocking up my testes. I placed my palm on her thigh to block that particular blow, but she twisted away from me.

  A thin voice piped up. “Leelee? Is Leelee Childes—I mean Leelee Songchild here?”

  Who the hell else now?

  “Patrick?” Leelee looked around.

  No way has Patrick Pin Prick Waddell turned up on our final night.

  A tall dude, all pink-faced and scrubbed clean with no rough edges what-so-fucking-ever, parted the crowd. He fell to his knees in front of her.

  I pushed off the wall, but Leelee’s hand on my chest stopped me from stomping his face in with my boots. Suddenly, absolute emo
tional terror sliced through me.

  “You came all the way from Shreveport?” Her fingers grazed his face.

  “I was so wrong. I’m not gay.” Patrick glimpsed up.

  Oh, now you’ve gotta be shittin’ me. I was the one who wasn’t gay, goddammit.

  “Tell me this is not happening.” I grabbed Leelee’s hand before she made another pass over his face. “Tell him this is not happening.”

  Camera flashes blinded me. Whispers niggled at me. Leelee glared at my hand.

  “I want you back, Leelee.” He anchored his arms around her legs.

  Screw this. I wanted her back too. I kept my hands off him by clenching my fists at my sides. My knuckles already bruised and bleeding, I hoped my expression was as scary as I felt as I stared down at him. “Okay, you? Shut the fuck up. Your voice is not heard in this conversation.”

  Leelee extricated herself from Patrick. “You ditched me for the guy in the china shop when we were picking out wedding patterns. You left me with a mortgage on the home we lived in. I’ve heard the gossip—you got laid off, you’re in deep trouble. You think you can just weasel your way back now that I’ve finally found success with the writing you called a self-absorbed pastime? You destroyed my confidence! But you know what, Patrick? I’m a phoenix. “ Her voice was honey all over, poison underneath. “I hope you choke on my flames. Get the hell outta my sight.”

  She turned her wrath on me before he even wriggled away. “You said you and Nicky were over.”

  I grabbed her hand and planted it on my chest, over my pounding heart. “Goddammit, woman. You’ve got a stubborn streak a mile long.” Her gaze dove between my lips and my hand that held hers in an unbroken grip. I wanted to kiss her so badly. I stepped closer. “I like it. No, I love it. I love—”

  “Stone?” Nicky’s smooth voice rolled over me.

  Shit-fuck.

  Everyone gawking, squawking, Christly tweeting every single second of my public stoning, and I didn’t give a flying fuck as the words flew from my mouth. “I’m not a foreign car dealer. I’m a mechanic. And I’m not gay!”

  “Oh my God. Not you too.” Leelee peeled away from me.

  “I’m not gay and I never was. I’m not Patrick. I’m nothing like him. You know that.” Darting in front of her, I wouldn’t let her escape.

  “I let you in.”

  “I know you did, and I honor that. I have no excuse, Leelee. I did it because, because . . .”

  “Because I asked him to,” Nicky said.

  Her head whipped between the two of us. “Bullshit.”

  “It’s not bullshit. Never with you, darlin’. I’ve never felt like this about anyone else before.”

  “You’re a liar, Stone. Just like him.” She screeched like bald wheels on blacktop, pointing toward Patrick’s exit.

  “I’m in love with you, Leelee. Every sweet and sassy thing about you.” Tipping down toward her ear, I whispered, “No woman has ever gotten inside my heart like you have.”

  When she backed away, her bottom lip quivered, and I silently begged her not to cry. Leave me in a fire of flames as well.

  Leelee jabbed at me. “Let’s get this straight. I’m not a damsel in distress, and you’re not a knight in shining armor.”

  I begged to differ about that. LaForge was still a skin-sack on the floor.

  “We aren’t living in a romance novel. I don’t care if you’re bi-straight-gay. Because I don’t care about you,” she spat. “You, Stone, are a liar and a scoundrel. You probably don’t even have a son.”

  From one of the onlookers, I heard a quiet, “This is an epic black moment.”

  I clasped my hands behind my neck. “Fuck.” She couldn’t have hurt me more about the kid. “He was never a lie. Neither were you.” My voice rasped.

  “I didn’t mean that,” Leelee whispered. She was pale and shivering.

  “Yeah, you did. It’s okay.” My smile was wintry. “JJ’s mine. He’s real. No one messes with my kid.” A blanket of regret spread across her face. “About everything else, maybe you’re right.” I angled my fedora over my eyes.

  This was done.

  I watched her walk out, her head held high. At least that was something to be thankful for. She hadn’t been defeated, at least not in public.

  “Show’s over, folks.” I slumped against the wall.

  Nicky appeared beside me. I couldn’t meet his eyes, couldn’t meet anyone’s. “I’m sorry, bro,” I said.

  “Yeah, me too.” He ran a hand through his hair then over his face. “Are you coming up to bed? Long drive tomorrow.”

  I glanced around the emptying room, never at him. “Nah. I’m goin’ nowhere.”

  I never had. I’d been content with my life. My garage. The kid. My Friday night tits-and-ass. I hadn’t ever wanted anything else until Leelee hit me like a fucking hurricane. I laughed darkly, shrugging away from Nicky.

  So raw my emotions were bleeding out, I staked out the lobby. I sat unmoving, oblivious to the commotion around me. The giant undertaking of the convention being cleaned up and cleared out. I wasn’t leaving until I saw Leelee one last time.

  A couple hours later, the lobby finally silent, I caught a streak of red all the way across the room. Leelee was sneaking out the far doors. Clever. I jogged across the lobby, stumbling through the merry-go-round doors. I stopped behind her as she struggled with the cobbled-together luggage cart. A car idled next to her.

  “Leave me alone.” She kept her face angled away from me.

  I grabbed the cart in one hand and steadied the sliding suitcase formation with the other. “You’re not getting away that easily.”

  “You think this is easy? My heart is breaking, Josh.” Turning to me, she hugged herself tight, looking so small and so hurt.

  I staggered back on my heels, breathless from pain. “Then don’t do this.”

  The downward crescent of her mouth tugged at my heart like a goddamn hook had ripped through it. “I can’t do anything else. This is—you, me . . . Nicky, my writing—it’s a mess! And your son . . .”

  My vision got watery. I swallowed, the lump in my throat immoveable. “So you’re just gonna run away?”

  “Don’t you dare judge me.” She popped open the trunk and yanked her belongings into it, any which way they landed.

  “At least let me help you with your stuff.” Anything to buy a few more minutes with her.

  Leelee nodded, moving out of the way.

  I jigsawed it all into the tight space of her compact sedan, making sure nothing would jostle during the ride. Too soon, everything was organized. I closed the trunk. The finality of the sound banged inside my head.

  Gathering her hands, I pulled them toward my chest. “Tell me you’re not drivin’ through the night.” The idea of her driving in the dark on her own just about threw me into a tailspin of worry.

  “Just a few hours. I need to get away. I’m so overwhelmed.” She lifted up until her face pressed against my neck.

  Oh Christ, she felt good, so right. I wrapped my arms around her, caressing up and down her back. What if I never felt her again?

  I choked out, “Are you calling someone to check in on the way home?”

  Call me, please call me.

  “My folks. I’ll be safe.”

  I cupped her face. My fingertips grazed her cheeks to her bow-shaped mouth. I kissed her forehead, her temples. Brushing my lips over hers, I waited a heartbeat. She returned that simple kiss, winding her arms around me. Her moan was all the surrender I needed.

  Dragging my hand through her hair, I held her the way I wanted to, needed to. In full possession, slanting her face and sliding my lips more deeply against hers. The touch of our tongues was the perfect invitation to groan in pleasure. To hold on before the pain of goodbye. It was a kiss I hoped she wouldn’t forget, couldn’t walk away from.

  Breath rushed from me when Leelee stepped back. I held my hand out to her for more. So much more.

  She’d melted during the kiss—b
ut not enough. The hurt in her eyes was worse than straight-up hate. And with it was anguish, desire. One hand pressed to her mouth, she stumbled to the car door. I was there in an instant. I hung over it, hungry for every last sight of her.

  Reaching to stroke my face, Leelee leaned up for what I expected to be another kiss, but she turned away at the last second. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry!”

  The car door slammed as soon as I stepped away.

  There on the walkway I crouched down, bracing my hands on my knees. Pain punched me in the gut. But I wouldn’t look away, wouldn’t blink. Not until she was out of sight.

  Leelee left in a May haze of heat, exhaust fumes, red taillights. She left me with a hard stone taking center place in my heart.

  My woman got away.

  Sixteen

  Not Romancing the Stone

  AFTER UMPTEEN HOURS ON the road, driving on autopilot, Nicky and I arrived in Mt. Pleasant. Sitting in my ma’s drive, I prepared to rip the door handle off the rented Volvo to get to the kid when Nicky placed a hand on my knee. My stabbing glare made him remove it.

  “Next time, we’re flying,” he said.

  “Next time?” I turned in my seat. “Dude, I pretty much just wrecked your reputation and screwed my love life. Or did you miss that tweet?”

  “I’ve been checking all day long, in fact.” A wicked grin slid across his mouth. “That stunt gave me more hits than a whore spreadin’ her legs for a two-for-one-fuck.”

  Crude, but effective. Aaaaand, that goddamn fucker. At least he’d forgiven me. I didn’t even have to send flowers. Asshole always came up smelling like roses.

  I shouldered through the doors of the house ahead of Nicky. Ma sat on the sofa with her cross stitch, which she used to camouflage her current book-smut-of-the-month from the Sunday clutch of church ladies who called at all hours of the day.

  She took one look at my face and slapped both book and fake old lady’s craft project aside. “Uh oh, trouble in paradise?”

  “It was ’Lanta. I wouldn’t exactly call that paradise.” I dropped my head. “Fell in love, fucked it all up.”

 

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