by M. S. Parker
And then there was DeVon Ricci. I sighed as I watched Carrie go through security. There was something about him. The more I thought about it, the more sure I was that he had feelings for me. He was trying to play off the whole George thing as business, but I didn’t think that was the case. I was sure he’d heard about what George had said, and that was why he’d fired him.
Not that it mattered, I reminded myself. He was smoldering hot and sexy as hell, but I couldn’t imagine myself with him. I ignored the voice in the back of my head that reminded me I had, in fact, imagined myself with him. At least in bed with him. I was sure he’d be amazing, but I didn’t want to dwell on it. Those had been flukes, I told myself. DeVon was a womanizer. Then again, I was a self-proclaimed man-eater, so I supposed we were on equal footing there.
There was a difference, though. In the past, even when I’d dated players, I’d been in charge. They all knew going into it that I wasn’t interested in commitment and I was always the one calling the shots. I decided how far things went and when they ended. With DeVon, I knew that things would be different. I couldn’t imagine him letting anyone kick him to the curb. He’d made it clear that everything happened on his terms, and I was sure that carried over to his personal life. What if I wanted more than one night? Not a relationship, of course, but what if I wanted us to be fuck buddies like some of the guys I’d been friends with back in New York, but he didn’t want it? What if we fucked once and that was it because that was all he wanted, to prove that he could have whatever he wanted, including me? As much as I hated to think it, that might actually hurt and I’d promised myself I’d never let a man hurt me again. Pete had done enough damage.
I pushed the thoughts of my asshole ex from my mind as I waved a last goodbye to Carrie, then headed to the parking lot. My red Beamer was waiting. It was similar to the ones Mirage had, but this one was mine. Granted, it was a lease and not an outright buy, but at least I didn’t have to use any of my parents’ money for it.
I let myself think about nothing but the pleasure of driving my car as I headed back to my apartment. I loved the neighborhood, the building and the apartment itself, but it was hard not to feel the emptiness when I went inside. I hadn’t been here alone yet and I didn’t like the feeling. I’d spent my first weekends here trying to get things together and going to parties with Taylor, but now I didn’t have any plans. Back in New York, I never spent weekends alone. I always had company, even if it was just one of the girls and me watching marathons of scary movies while eating popcorn. If I had a guy over instead of a girl, there’d be making out and maybe more. Either way, it was never just me.
I sighed and started unpacking. At least I could get some of that done since my best friend was gone and the only guy I sort of liked was now off-limits because my sadistic and narcissistic employer had made absolutely certain that we couldn’t have anything together by offering Taylor the one thing he wanted more than me. A contract with Mirage.
By the time I showered and crawled into bed – this time with sheets – I was emotionally exhausted and ready to lose myself in sleep. Just before I drifted off, my phone dinged. I groaned and looked over at it.
It was a text from DeVon.
Why would he be texting me so late on a weekend? A thrill of excitement went through me. Maybe I’d gotten my first read for one of my clients. I opened the text and had to read it twice to make sure I was reading it correctly.
“What are you wearing?”
Was he fucking kidding me?
Chapter 7
DEVON
I was only half-listening as my buddy Sandy talked about us heading to Vegas and hooking up with some strippers this weekend.
“Remember that time you called three strippers and...”
My door slammed open, and I lost the rest of whatever story Sandy was starting to tell as Krissy stormed in. Damn, she was sexy when she was pissed.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you want me to file a sexual harassment suit or what?”
I didn’t take my eyes off of her as I spoke into the phone. “I’ll have to call you back.” I hung up before Sandy could say anything, then leaned back in my chair and waited to see what happened next. Krissy was one of the only people whose actions I couldn’t always predict.
“Are you even listening to me?” she snapped.
I raised an eyebrow and tried not to leer at her. There was color high on her cheeks and her eyes were almost black. She was also breathing hard, which meant those firm breasts of hers were heaving and it was all I could do not to look at them. Instead, I played the obvious card.
“Do I have to remind you who you’re talking to right now? I am your boss, not your boyfriend.”
She moved a step closer to my desk. “You sent me a text last night asking me what I was wearing. I repeat, what the hell is wrong with you?”
Both eyebrows went up this time and I put on my best expression of innocent surprise, though I was neither surprised nor innocent. “Oh, was that what I wrote? I was wondering why you didn’t reply. I intended to ask ‘what are you wearing tomorrow?’ Referring, of course, to today since we have an important lunch meeting with Jake Morris.” I kept my voice even, partly because she did need to know this, but also because I got the feeling it made her more mad when I stayed calm. “You remember Jake, the casting direction from Universal? Now is your time to shine.” I stood up and gave her a once over. “We need to present sexy Krissy. And this is exactly why I texted last night. You can’t wear that.” I pointed at the drab dress she was wearing. “It’s boring.” I didn’t add that she could make a potato sack sexy. That wasn’t the point.
“Is that why you hired me?” Her temper was still going. “So you can show me off to your golf buddies and be the price for a contract?”
A muscle in my jaw twitched and I could feel my calm dissolving. “Don’t pretend to be such a saint. It’s not like you didn’t realize what was going to happen, like you weren’t warned. I told you that Hollywood thrives on tits and ass. I don’t make you whore yourself out, but flaunting what you have—that, you knew, was part of the deal.”
She sighed, but it wasn’t an ‘I give up’ sigh, rather more of a ‘why do I bother with you’ sound. “What does it matter anyway? It’s not like I didn’t already know you’re a dickhead and a fucking hedonist.”
I frowned. “You know, Krissy, English isn’t my first language. I don’t like it when I have to look up words in the dictionary.” Sarcasm dripped from my words.
She uttered a short laugh. “I could leave right now.”
Something twisted in my stomach.
“I don’t need this job,” she continued. “I could just walk right out of here and take the next plane back to New York. I–”
I slammed my hands down on my desk to get her to stop saying things I didn’t want to hear. “You wouldn’t walk out of here.” My accent was back but I didn’t even try to get it under control. “You wouldn’t even know what it means to walk out.” I stepped around my desk. “You wouldn’t, because...” I cut the distance between us to less than a foot. I growled the rest of the sentence, “You are just like me!”
Suddenly, her hands were fisting in my shirt and she was yanking me towards her, her mouth rising to meet mine. I had only a second to be surprised and then she was kissing me.
Chapter 8
KRISSY
I didn’t know what came over me. I was just so angry and everything just sort of happened. I didn’t even give myself a moment to second-guess what I was doing. Instead, I tilted my head and opened my mouth, pushing my tongue between his lips. He made a sound that went straight south and his arms wrapped around me, crushing me against his chest. Our mouths battled for dominance, tongues twisting as they fought, teeth scraping and biting until the heat inside me was nearly unbearable. I knew he felt it, too. His cock was hardening against my stomach and my pussy throbbed.
I pulled back, needing the air for my head as much as my lungs. I shook my he
ad. “We can’t do this.” I was practically gasping. “What about the rules?” It was a stupid excuse, I knew, but it was all I had at the moment.
“Fuck the rules.” His voice was low and dark. “They’re there to be broken.”
He pulled me towards him, lowering his mouth to mine before my hormone-altered brain could formulate any sort of response. I expected more bruising force, a show to remind me who was in charge, but that wasn’t what happened. Instead, his lips moved with mine as he slowly explored my mouth. It wasn’t gentle or sweet, but firm in a different kind of way. This was the sort of kiss that promised wonderful things. A kiss that started a fire only he could quench. A promise of all the decadent things he could do to my body while I begged him to never stop.
I was almost trembling as his hands slid down my back to my ass and one started to pull up my skirt. I tensed and the hands that were clutching his shirt now pushed back on that oh-so-firm chest. I wasn’t going to do this.
“I-I have to go change for the meeting.” I barely managed to get the words out. I smoothed down my skirt as I hurried out of the office on legs that almost couldn’t hold me. I knew my face was flushed and I really hoped that anyone who saw me would just think I was still angry.
My head was still spinning as I drove home. What the fuck had just happened? Had I lost my mind, kissing DeVon? And then letting him kiss me a second time?
“Dammit.” I smacked my hand on the steering wheel. Why hadn’t I gone back to New York with Carrie?
I managed to pull myself together by the time I returned to the office in a different outfit. If anyone thought it was strange that I’d come in wearing something stylish but plain, then left and returned in something quite a bit more form-fitting, they didn’t say it. I supposed what DeVon said was true. Tits and ass. Everyone knew how it worked.
I stayed in my office the rest of the morning, buried in a screenplay I wasn’t really reading. I kept waiting for DeVon to come down and say that we needed to talk, but he didn’t come. Then I started wondering if he was just going to wait until I closed his deal with Jake and then fire me. When it was time to leave for the lunch, my stomach was in knots and I didn’t think I’d be able to eat a bite.
I arrived first and was shown to the table. I’d only been there for a few minutes when DeVon showed up. I automatically tensed, but he just gave me a once over like he’d done earlier, except this time he nodded in approval. I followed his lead in not talking about what had happened, figuring he didn’t want Jake to arrive in the middle of what was already going to be an awkward conversation. He ordered wine for the table, then asked about an appetizer. I answered politely, though I doubted I’d even be able to swallow anything.
Just as the waiter was returning with our drinks, DeVon’s phone buzzed. He glanced down at it, then set it aside.
“Jake had to cancel.” He took a sip of the wine and nodded to the waiter. “Since we’re here, we might as well eat.” Without asking what I wanted, he ordered for us both.
I would’ve been annoyed if I hadn’t been so nervous. If he hadn’t been my boss, this would’ve been so much easier, but he’d made the rules clear and I’d initiated the kiss. If he was going to forget it and I brought it back up, I could get fired. But I wasn’t sure that I wanted him to forget it. I didn’t like the idea that a kiss that amazing – two kisses that amazing – could be so easily forgotten. Unless, of course, they hadn’t been good for him. It wasn’t like he didn’t have a lot to compare them to.
Neither one of us spoke beyond the occasional comment about the food or the weather, and then when our food came, we focused on that. I forced myself to eat even though I didn’t really taste anything. I wasn’t going to make DeVon mad by ignoring the meal he was paying for. I didn’t have a problem getting in his face when he did something wrong, but I wasn’t going to be intentionally rude.
Finally, as the waiter brought the check, I couldn’t stand the tension anymore. I had to say something. “Shouldn’t we talk abo–”
“There’s nothing to talk about.” He cut me off. “What happened, happened. We can’t take it back.” He stood up and pulled a hundred dollar bill from his pocket. He tucked it into the slender check holder and gave me a stern look, his eyes cold. “Just don’t ever do it again. I never just kiss.”
I blinked at his final statement and watched as he turned and walked away.
What the hell did that mean?
Chapter 9
DEVON
“So how can I improve my chances of being represented by Mirage Talent?”
The woman asking the question sat across from me, one long leg crossed over the other. She was one of three prospective new clients I was meeting with today, but the only woman.
I raised an eyebrow. “What do you have in mind?”
She smiled at me and I wondered what those ruby-kissed lips would look like stretched around my cock.
“Oh, I think you know, Mr. Ricci. I’d do anything to get my career going.”
Not exactly a surprising response. I stood up and slowly walked around the desk, letting my gaze run over her. Monique was probably one of the hottest women I’d seen in a long time. Legs that went on for years. Breasts that were a little too perfect to be natural, but had been so well done that only someone like myself would’ve noticed. She had glossy black hair that framed a model-perfect face and fell just past her shoulders. The perfect length to hold onto while fucking her from behind. Pouting red lips and skin that amazing shade of tan that only Latinas can get without a salon. She had that exotic look that was all the rage now and I could see the heat in her eyes as she enjoyed my perusal. She wanted me to take her and I could already picture all the ways I could. Bent over my desk. Her riding me in my chair. Up against the wall, her hands pinned above her head. The last Latina I’d been with had given me that same look and I’d needed a three day hiatus from sex for my dick to recover. Compared to Monique, that last one looked like a five-dollar hooker.
I half-sat, half-leaned on the edge of the desk right in front of her and rested my hands on the expensive wood. “I’m pretty sure we can figure something out. I already have several roles that I can think of off the top of my head that you’ll be perfect for.”
She leaned forward, giving me an even better view of those magnificent breasts and put her hand on my leg, just above my knee, and gently squeezed. “That’s exactly what I need, an agent like you who can give me everything I’m looking for.” She ran the tip of her tongue along her bottom lip. “And I do mean everything.”
Fuck, she was hot.
Her hand slid higher up my leg and it didn’t take a genius to know where she was heading. My cock twitched and I knew I’d be hard the moment she touched me. Just before she reached her destination, I wrapped my fingers around her wrist.
“As much as I want you to continue – I can’t.” I didn’t recognize the words that were coming out of my mouth.
“Oh.” She blinked, confusion clearly showing on her face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were involved with someone.”
I stood up and lifted my hands, palms out in the universal gesture of surrender. “I’m not.” The words came out sharper than I’d intended. What the hell was I doing? “But, if we’re going to work together, it would be inappropriate for us to be intimate. That’s one of the rules I have in this company.” I couldn’t believe I’d just said that. I’d never said that to a female client, especially one like Monique.
“Really?” The corners of her mouth curved up into a puzzled smile. “That’s so not what I heard.” She ran her finger across her collarbone to draw attention to her impressive cleavage. “But if you don’t think I’m hot enough, you should know that I have a few very naughty tricks that might change your mind. But, if you don’t want to find out...”
I cleared my throat and made a point of looking at my watch rather than those long legs that I could picture wrapping around my waist. “I have another meeting to attend to, but Bruce will be in tou
ch with you about the paperwork.” I gestured towards the door. “I’m looking forward to seeing you again.”
“Oh, um, well, thank you,” she stammered as I ushered her to the elevator. Her eyes were wide and startled, but I didn’t try to offer an explanation. How could I when I didn’t understand it myself?
I kept a professional smile on my face until the elevator doors closed, then stalked back to my office and used most of my self-control not to slam the door. I leaned back against it and closed my eyes.
What the fuck was wrong with me?
Monique was exactly my type. Hot, willing and with a self-proclaimed ‘naughty’ side. She was the kind of woman who, just a few weeks ago, I would already be balls-deep in, making her scream, but as attractive as I thought she was, something inside me had told me to stop. Now that I stopped to analyze it, it felt a lot like guilt, and that made absolutely no sense. Why would I feel guilty about wanting to bang Monique when I’d been through the same scenario dozens of times before?