by D. J. Manly
He kissed her hand briefly, and escorted her to the limo.
* * * *
Amanda sat back against the seat of the car and closed her eyes. All this mystery surrounding Hunter Reese. She loved it. It made her even more anxious to meet him. Part of her suspected that Jacques just didn’t want to share. She couldn’t blame him, bless his dear hide. However, there was probably more to it than that. There always was. She knew for a fact that Jacques handpicked his boys. He often bragged that he had a boy for every taste, every peculiarity. She couldn’t help but be curious about what Hunter had been chosen for. If his body was anywhere as gorgeous and raunchy as his face was, well … Lord have mercy on poor little Ramsay. That made her smile. “One day, Amanda,” Jacques had told her, “you are going to come up with a concoction that is going to be combustible, the way you put these men together.” Oh God, Amanda thought, smiling to herself, I sure hope so. Jacques might have a knack for picking men, but she had a knack for putting them together and watching the fireworks. She regretted not swiping those two pictures and keeping them with her tonight just so she could study them. You could tell a lot about someone from a picture.
When she got home, there was a message on her answering machine from Jordon. It said simply to call him back. It was weird having a relationship that bordered on normalcy with her brother after all these years. She was glad, really, on the one hand. He was the only family she had left now. But it could be trying. He was a man, after all.
She checked the time. It was almost midnight in New York, but they were probably still up—in more ways than one. She made some tea, then curled up on the sofa, pressing in Jordon’s number. After a few rings, a male voice said hello. She knew that voice. It was Chase’s.
“Well, hello there, beautiful,” she said, smiling into the receiver. “I’m calling too late, aren’t I?”
“Amanda! No. We just finished watching a movie. How’s it going?”
“Okay, I guess. What’s the weather like out there?”
“Cold.”
“Aha. Should have stayed in L.A.”
“That’s okay. I have Jordie to keep me warm.” He laughed.
“Um, that rat,” she mocked. “Well, if he ever cools off…”
“No chance of that,” Chase replied. “I have no intention of allowing that.”
She smiled. “How’s your job?”
“I hate it. The boss is a bore.”
“Poor baby.”
“But,” he sighed, “it’s okay for now. I’m looking around.”
“Let Jordie support you. He’s loaded.”
Chase laughed. “No way. He’s far too good-looking, and far too bossy. He’d make me his slave.”
Amanda heard her brother protesting in the background, and she laughed. “Put the boss on, will ya? I suspect he wants to lecture me again.”
“No doubt. Okay, you asked for it,” Chase said. “’Bye Mandy.”
“’Bye sweetie,” she said.
A second later, her brother’s voice boomed into the receiver. “Why don’t you return my calls?”
“That’s what I’m doing now, aren’t I?”
“Finally. So, what’s going on? Why don’t you come to New York? My birthday is coming up.”
“Yeah, I know. I can’t now, but I will. I promise. How are you doing?”
“Good, busy as hell, trying to keep up with Chase.”
She laughed. “I hope he gives you a hard time.”
“You would, wouldn’t you? So, seeing anyone?”
“Yeah, the caterer. I’m having a party for some friends next week.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I know what you meant, sweet dear brother of mine. And the answer is no, none of your business, and let’s change the subject. I don’t know why you can’t get it through that thick Nash head of yours that I like being on my own.”
There was silence.
“Jordie?”
“Yes, yes, I heard you … Mandy.” He laughed.
She knew he hated it when she called him Jordie, although Chase seemed to be able to get away with it.
“You haven’t been back to that place where you…” He trailed off.
“The place I found your Chase?” she threw back.
“Must you remind me?”
She could picture him rolling his eyes. “Actually if I had been back, I wouldn’t tell you about it, now would I?”
“Probably not,” he grumbled. “So, what do you say, New York at the end of the month? You haven’t even been to the new house.”
“Want to show off, eh?”
“Of course,” he said with a laugh.
“The only thing you’ve got worth showing off is Chase, my friend, and don’t you forget it. And you have your big sister to thank for that.”
“No argument there,” he replied.
“Finally something we agree on. I trained him good for you.”
“Fuck off, Mandy,” he said, then laughed.
“You just need to keep him in training.”
“Oh, no worries,” he replied. “I am a Nash.”
She laughed.
“If you don’t come to New York, we’re coming out there.”
“Fine. Call first,” she said.
“On my cell from LAX?”
“Yeah, right. Jerk.” After a few seconds, she said, “I wouldn’t miss your birthday, darling. If we don’t see each other, I’ll send you something.”
He laughed again. “Okay, Amanda. I’m almost afraid. I gotta go. I think Chase is in the mood for some training.”
“Rub it in, why don’t you?”
“I love you, sis,” he said suddenly, his voice softer.
That always surprised her. She felt herself smile. “Yeah, yeah, sure. ’Night, Nash. Give Chase a big kiss for me; on second thought, you can give him…”
“I’ll use my imagination.” Jordon chuckled. “’Bye.”
She said goodbye, and hung up.
She would love to go out and see Jordon and Chase, but she wasn’t sure how long she’d be able to stay there, knowing they were making love down the hallway. She still missed Chase. She’d been in love with him for a moment there, and when he’d finally left with Jordon, he had taken a piece of her with him.
Early the next morning, she was awakened by Jacques’s phone call. He apologized for rousing her. “I thought I’d call you before I left. I’m off to France for a few days. I’ve managed to secure the arrangements for this evening.”
“Splendid. Will they arrive together?”
“No. Hunter is engaged elsewhere presently, but he’s been informed of the time. Hopefully he will respect that.”
“Fine. I’ll expect them then.”
“Bonne chance,” he said, and hung up.
* * * *
At six o’clock, Amanda told all the staff to go. She put her driver on alert in case Jacques had not arranged a ride for her guests to go home. They were paid for until ten the next morning, but she probably wouldn’t keep them all night.
First impressions were very important and she spent a lot of time over her toilette. She finally chose a light burgundy dress in silk with a plunging neckline and a ruffled skirt which fell to the knee. Sheer black stockings and six-inch burgundy heels completed the outfit. She left her neck bare and added only a slim diamond bracelet at the wrist by way of accessory. Her shoulder-length reddish blond hair remained loose. She wasn’t really nervous; after all, she had done this plenty of times. She was more impatient than anything.
When one of Jacques’s limos pulled up outside her house around five to nine, she parted the curtain beside the door. Her heart was thudding in her chest as the driver opened the door and a young man stepped out. He glanced around him and his soft fluttery ash blond hair brushed his shoulders. As he walked up the to the house, Amanda could see that he was wearing a pair of tight, faded jeans which hugged his slim hips and a clinging navy sweater with no sleeves which fell just above his navel.
Amanda opened the door before he could reach it, causing him to take a step back. Those eyes, so light, so clear, made his face look like an angel’s. “You must be Ramsay,” she said, holding out her hand.
Ramsay nodded, a faint smile on his delicate features. He took her hand, held it, then let it go. His skin was light, but not pasty; it had a porcelain look, almost like that of a china doll. She had never seen such beautiful skin. He turned slightly to wave at the driver, who shot away from the curb and was gone.
“Come in,” she said, studying him. His jeans seemed especially chosen to emphasize his slender form and the substantial package between his thighs.
Ramsay stepped inside and took in everything around him, then he returned his gaze to her and said, “You have a lovely home, Amanda.”
“Thank you,” she replied, taking his arm and leading him into the living room. “Please, have a seat. Can I get you anything?”
“Ah, no,” he said, shaking his head. He settled down onto the sofa. He didn’t seem nervous or shy. He was relaxed and, as Amanda was soon to discover, talkative. “I never drink before I visit a client because it interferes with my performance.”
“Ah,” she said, turning to the bar and pouring herself some wine. She smiled. He was too sweet. There was a certain innocence about him that was very appealing. “We wouldn’t want that.”
He shook his fair head. “No. Kind of defeats the purpose.” He laughed lightly. “Are we waiting for someone?”
Amanda turned around, surprised. “Didn’t Jacques tell you about me? What I like?”
“No,” he said. “I was with a weekender … that’s what we call regular clients who see us on the weekend.”
Amanda nodded.
“Jacques left me a message this afternoon, with your address. He’s in France. It said to be here at nine. I knew you were a woman.” He smiled. “I’m not used to servicing women. I have no objection, but…”
Amanda put up a hand. “I know you prefer men.”
“Well, it’s…” He wiggled a bit on the sofa. “Yes, I do, but…”
Amanda smiled. “No worries. I’m a special request.”
“Oh?” He looked at her curiously. “That’s okay because I don’t judge that. You know, you pay and so you should get what you want.”
“Don’t you have some things you won’t do?” She was suddenly curious, given his last statement.
“Jacques always informs the client that they’re not to cause any permanent damage, or…”
“Yes, I know the rules, but what about you? What won’t you do?”
He looked thoughtful. “There are things I don’t particularly enjoy doing, but we’re trained to do anything the client requires.”
“May I ask if Jacques trains you personally?” It had always been such a mystery. She’d asked Scott that question once and he had been very vague.
He blinked. “We’re not supposed to discuss our training,” he said, then he lowered his voice. “I guess it doesn’t hurt to tell you that Jacques oversees everything, but there is more than one trainer.”
“Oh, I see.” Amanda had always suspected that. She also suspected that at one time Jacques had been a high-class escort himself. He had the looks and he had the manners, but she’d never dared asked him that personal a question.
“Ramsay, I want you to know that if there is anything you don’t feel comfortable with, you are free to tell me. I don’t want you to do anything that you personally object to.”
“Thank you,” he said politely, “but I’m here to please.” He met her eyes. “I’ve done just about everything. And I have serviced women before in various circumstances, so…”
“Well, Ramsay, actually you won’t be…” She stopped, thinking she heard a car pull up. She checked the clock over the fireplace. It was twenty minutes after nine. Her pulse began to race. “Excuse me. I’ll be right back.”
The doorbell rang just as she approached the door. She took a deep breath, touched her hair, and then opened it.
Chapter Two
Oh yeah, baby, was her first impression of Hunter Reese. God, she had good instincts. That picture didn’t do him justice at all. He was all man, standing about six two with broad shoulders and well-muscled arms. He was big, and as she ran her gaze over the tight black leather pants he wore with the white T-shirt stretched over his taut muscular chest, she couldn’t find an ounce of unnecessary fat on him. His hair was jet black with just the slightest curl to it, and hung almost to his shoulders. The eyes were a beautiful dark hypnotic brown. He looked White standing there under the light but as she stepped aside and told him to come in, the artificial light in the hallway brought out the deeper golden glow to his skin, which was not caused by any sun. Gorgeous. That soft mouth was practically the only vulnerable feature he had. And his hair; those black glossy locks looked as soft as silk. “You must be Hunter,” she said. She was practically breathless.
He didn’t smile. Instead he met her eyes, narrowing his, and said in a deep, accented voice, “What the fuck. You’re a woman.”
Amanda raised an eyebrow. “Yes, that’s right,” she said. “What kind of an accent is that?”
“’Tis Jamaican,” he replied, glancing around him absently.
“You don’t look Jamaican.”
“So I’ve been told. As much as many would have it otherwise, ’tis a fact. And you don’t look like a dude either,” he said, folding his arms across his chest. “What’s the deal here?”
“Please come in, Mr. Reese.” He was just too much. She was feeling giddy. “You’ve been paid for, for the night, so you might as well come into the living room and sit down.”
“I don’t do women, so sitting is all I’ll be a doing, lady,” he replied, following her down the hall.
She stopped, turned around and let her gaze trail down over him. “If you have a big cock, well…” She paused, feeling more and more like her old self. God, she was out of practice, but her instincts … oh Lord, they were still amazing.
“My cock is staying put. I told you, madame, I don’t do women.”
She grinned at him, and kept walking. When she got to the living room, Ramsay glanced up from where he’d been waiting patiently on the sofa. “Mr. Reese,” she said, standing aside so that he could see Ramsay, “meet Ramsay. Ramsay, this is…”
Ramsay was on his feet. “What’s he doing here?”
Amanda heard Hunter Reese snarl behind her. She glanced at Hunter, then at Ramsay. “Is there a problem?”
“He’s afraid of me,” Hunter said, then laughed.
The sudden, unexpected laugh startled Amanda.
“I’m not afraid of him,” Ramsay protested. “I just don’t … like … him.”
Well, this was interesting.
“You did say I wouldn’t have to do anything I…” Ramsay began, then broke off.
Hunter Reese walked further into the room. He strutted over to the fireplace, glanced at the bar, then at Amanda. “Going to offer me a drink, woman?”
“Help yourself,” Amanda said, her eyes on Ramsay. “Ramsay, could we talk in private?”
He nodded.
“Take the little girl and put her to bed,” he said. “Past your bedtime isn’t it, Ramsay?” He glanced over at him, picking up a bottle of whiskey.
Ramsay walked past Amanda and out of the room.
Amanda excused herself and followed him. In the hallway, she placed a hand on his arm. “Sweetheart,” she said softly. “Do you and Hunter have a history?”
“History? God damn his hide. We don’t have any history, and we aren’t going to have any history, either. I can’t stand him. You don’t expect me to … with him, do you?”
Amanda folded her arms across her chest. “Ramsay. You are making this very difficult. I have paid for…”
Ramsay touched her arm. “I’m sorry. I’m behaving badly. Of course, I shall do whatever pleases you. Just let me, ah … have a minute, okay? And maybe that drink.”
Amanda nodded.
“Of course, but maybe if you explained to me what…”
“I’d rather not, if you don’t mind.”
“As you wish,” Amanda said. “Please take your time. I’ll go and talk to Hunter.”
“Good luck,” he said.
Amanda smiled and came back into the living room. “You like playing the big bad wolf, Mr. Reese?”
He was sprawled in one of the chairs, a glass of whiskey in his hand. He looked up at her with those sultry eyes. She felt the juices begin to flow between her legs. Damn. With only one look. He was good. “You think me a wolf now, do you?”
“What’s between you and Ramsay?”
“Between us? Hah,” he said, taking a swig of the whiskey, “nothing, little girl. Nothing at all. He’s got a big imagination, that one. Now, what exactly are we suppose to be doing here tonight? I don’t do women and Larose knows that, so obviously, I’m doing that whiner’s ass. You like to watch, baby?” He stood up.
How much of it was real and how much of it was for show, she didn’t know. But his arrogance was clear in every move of his muscles, every inflection in his voice. She liked him. She liked him a lot, although he clearly didn’t want people to.
Amanda actually took a step back, that’s how imposing he was. She couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to him to make him that defensive. She wanted to know. She wanted to know everything about him. “You will do as I tell you with Ramsay. I call the shots. Is that clear?”
“Oooh,” he said mockingly. “A woman who knows what she wants.” He held out his arms. “Bring it on.”
She swallowed, then took a breath. Oh, she’d bring it on, all right. “Upstairs,” she said, turning around to see Ramsay enter the room hesitantly.
“Didn’t run away?” Hunter threw the words at Ramsay.
Ramsay sighed. “I’m a professional.”
“Ah, that explains it then, man,” he returned, eyeing Amanda. “Let’s get this show going. Lead the way, woman.”
Amanda walked out of the room with Ramsay on her heels. Hunter took his time coming up the stairs, glancing around him, pausing to sip his drink once in awhile. When Amanda entered her bedroom, Hunter set his glass down and ran and jumped in the middle of her bed, spreading out his arms and legs. Amanda paused. “Not there,” she said. “Come with me.”
