by D. J. Manly
“Thank you.”
“It’s a very masculine room.”
“It is.”
She met his eyes. “Please tell me about Ramsay and Hunter, what you know.”
“Like I said, Amanda”—he shook his head, taking a generous swallow of his champagne…”I know very little. I can tell you that Ramsay came to me off the streets. He was a mess when I found him, half starved to death.”
Amanda winced. “Poor boy.”
“Yes.”
“And Hunter?”
“Ramsay brought me Hunter.”
Amanda’s eyes widened. “Really?”
“Yes.” He took his time drinking.
“And?” Amanda persisted.
He shrugged. “When I first saw him, I was very pleased. He’s sinfully beautiful.”
“He is.” Sinfully beautiful was the perfect way to describe him.
“But as I got to know him, his personality is”—Jacques held his hand out, palm up, and then wobbled his hand back and forth…”comme-ci, comme ça.”
“Where did Ramsay find him?”
“No idea. He didn’t say. I didn’t ask.”
“How long ago was this?”
“That Ramsay brought Hunter to me?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, let me see.” He entwined his fingers. “Ramsay has been with me over a year now. He brought Hunter to me about eight months ago.”
“And they were friends?”
“It appeared so. They got along all right, and then suddenly, they didn’t.”
Amanda narrowed her eyes. “They had a fight.”
“Not in my presence. They were close for about a week, that’s it, and then this animosity developed. It’s like they can’t even be in the same room together.”
“And you were never told how Ramsay found Hunter?”
“No.” He shook his head. “Hunter is not a talker by nature, and Ramsay has told me nothing. I assumed that Hunter would tell me if he wanted me to know. He does his job. Sometimes the clients love him, and sometimes they don’t. I have to be careful who I send him to.”
Amanda drained her glass.
“You still want them?”
“Definitely.”
He took a folded piece of paper out of his pocket. He leaned across and handed it to her. “If this is acceptable to you, you can make your proposal. I suggest you do it individually.”
She nodded, taking the paper and unfolding it. She winced. “This is … ah … steep.”
“Yes,” he said. “Ramsay will be a big loss to me. He is very appealing, for a variety of reasons, to many of my clients, especially to those who like their boys, ah … soft and sweet.” He laughed.
“And Hunter—are you giving him to me?” There was humor in her voice.
“Not at all. Hunter is rough trade. He appeals to those with more, ah … adventurous appetites … the less sentimental. It’s just that at the moment, my clientele tends to be more … romantic in nature, or not bold enough to express their fiercer desires.”
She thoughtfully refolded the paper.
“You may take some time to consider it, of course,” he said.
“That won’t be necessary. I accept.” She stood.
His eyes widened, then he smiled, standing up with her. “Very well. If Hunter and Ramsay agree, they are yours for three months. They have the option to return to me if after three months you wish for them to leave you. If you send them back before, we can renegotiate, perhaps arrange for a partial refund.”
She shook her head, reaching for his arm and giving it a gentle squeeze. “If that happens, no refund will be necessary.”
“Very well,” he nodded. “You can stay here if you like. I will send—which one would you like to see first?”
“Ramsay, I think,” she said, sitting back down.
“I will send him down shortly,” he replied, leaving the room.
Amanda sucked in a breath. All this now depended on their answers. She grinned to herself, feeling a little giddy. She would have to do like the Godfather and make them an offer they couldn’t refuse.
About ten minutes later just as Amanda was about to finish her second glass of Dom Perignon, the door opened and Ramsay appeared, dressed in sweat pants and an oversized sweatshirt. He looked sleepy but sweet, like a little boy who’d just been awakened. “Hi,” he said. “I’m sorry. I was sleeping, and I would have dressed, but…”
“Come here,” Amanda said, motioning to him. “You look fine.”
Ramsay gave her one of those disarming smiles and stood in front of her.
“Please sit down,” she said. “Do you want some champagne?”
“No,” he replied, taking Jacques’s chair. “I have no head for it.”
“Oh,” she said, smiling. She couldn’t help smiling when she saw him. He had such a gentle spirit. “Ramsay, I’ll get right to the point. How would you like to come and stay with me for a little while?”
“Stay with you?”
“Yes. You could live at my house. I’d give you whatever you wanted, whatever you needed.”
“Why?” He narrowed his eyes.
“Because as you know,” she said, meeting his eyes, “I enjoy watching men together and I like to keep my boys close.”
“Boys?”
“Yes.”
“Plural?”
“Yes,” she laughed. “I would like Hunter to join us.”
Ramsay practically jumped out of the chair. “Ah … well then, count me out. I’m not living with Hunter.”
“But you live with him now,” Amanda said, titling her head.
“Yeah, but I hardly have to see him. This place is big and…”
“Ramsay, do you mind if I ask you why you’re reacting this way? I mean, has Hunter hurt you in some way? Is he cruel to you?”
He opened his mouth, then closed it. “I prefer not to be with him, that’s all.”
“Ramsay,” Amanda said. “Do you realize what you’d be passing up? I’m a very wealthy woman. I would only expect that once in awhile, maybe a few times a week, you indulge me with Hunter. That’s all. You could do what you wanted on your down time. Maybe we’d travel some. I’d buy you a car, a new wardrobe, get you a personal trainer. You could take courses if you wanted. You’d always have money. I’m offering you the chance of a lifetime. You could leave whenever you wanted, although I’m asking you to stick it out for three months. After that, if you hate it, you’re free to leave, to come back here if you like.”
“What did Hunter say?”
“I haven’t talked to him yet. Ramsay, I won’t let Hunter hurt you in any way. You have nothing to be afraid of. If he does something inappropriate, I’ll ask him to leave.”
Ramsay looked down at the floor. “Will I always be with Hunter?”
“Mostly, but sometimes I might find another to join you, or … depends on my mood.” She smiled. “Please, think about it.”
“I will,” he said. “Can I give you my answer tomorrow?”
“Of course.” She watched him leave after saying a quiet goodbye. She was deep in thought when Hunter walked in. Why was Ramsay so afraid of him?
“Hello,” he said, walking over to the chair opposite and placing a hand on it. He didn’t sit down. Dressed in jeans and a studded black leather jacket, he looked like he was on his way out.
“Hello, Hunter,” she said, giving him the once-over. “Are you going somewhere?”
“Actually, yes,” he said. “I have a client waiting, but Jacques told me to stop here first. I’m surprised to see you.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “Just am. What’s all the mystery?”
“Hunter, why is Ramsay so afraid of you?”
His dark eyes narrowed. “Afraid?”
“Yes, he seems terrified of you. Did you ever … hurt him in some way?”
He laughed harshly. “I tied him up and raped his ass once, if that’s what you mean.”
She was speechless for a m
oment.
“Woman,” he said, the accent more pronounced suddenly, “I’m bullshitting you.”
Amanda took a breath. “Nothing to bullshit about.”
He shrugged, looking dark and dangerous suddenly. “Happens all the time.”
“I want to propose something to you.”
“You want to marry me?” He grinned. “I won’t be much use to you in the bedroom.”
She had to laugh. He was teasing her. “No, I don’t want to marry you. I want you to come live with me for three months. I’ll give you everything you want.”
“What in hell for?”
“To amuse me … you and Ramsay. After three months, if you’re not happy, you can leave, come back here and…” She was tense. Her voice had taken on a pleading tone as she did her best to sell him on the idea. She didn’t want to stop talking, because she was sure she’d hear him say no.
When his deep voice said, “Sure,” Amanda’s jaw fell open. She had expected an argument, a flat-out refusal.
“Sure?” she echoed. “Meaning yes?”
“Why not? It sounds easy, more secure, financially profitable. Say when?”
“Well.” She smiled, sitting back. “We have to talk Ramsay into it.”
“He’ll come. It’s right up his alley,” he said. “Now if you’ll excuse me,” he said as he checked his watch, “I got to go. I’m late. See you.” He lifted a hand and sauntered out.
When Jacques walked back in, she was standing at the window, looking outside onto the huge well-lit tennis court without really seeing it. She turned around when she heard him say her name.
“Did it go all right?” he asked.
“Not exactly as I expected.”
“I see.”
“Ramsay will tell me tomorrow. Oddly enough, Hunter jumped at it.”
Jacques threw up his hands. “I’ve given up trying to predict what Hunter will do. I am surprised at Ramsay. I’ll talk to him.”
“Thank you.”
“We can settle the money situation when the arrangements are final,” Jacques said.
That was it. Amanda called her driver and left the Agency. She was wondering what she would do if Ramsay turned her down. Did she want Hunter without Ramsay? Yes. It wouldn’t be so easy to find a replacement for Ramsay, but maybe Jacques would have a suggestion. She hadn’t even seen his boys in Europe yet.
When the phone rang the next evening, she picked it up with anticipation. It was Jacques. “Amanda,” he said. “When shall I send them?”
Amanda smiled, her heart fluttering. “Tonight. Send them tonight. I’ll have your check delivered by courier tomorrow.”
“D’accord. Enjoy,” he said, and hung up.
Chapter Four
Amanda found herself wishing she had had Jacques send the boys to her the next night. She was still scrambling around directing the maids to prepare this and that when they both arrived on the doorstep.
When the maid fluttered upstairs announcing them, Amanda was just finishing her makeup. “Are the rooms prepared?” she asked, carefully applying the last coat of mascara.
“Yes, madame.”
“Show them to their rooms and let them settle in. Then you can go, Clarissa.” Clarissa was new, and she was just too curious.
Amanda patted her hair, which she had swept up and pinned with a diamond clip. She changed her blouse a second time. A red silk blouse replaced the mauve one, and topped off a pair of expensive designer jeans with six-inch sling-back pumps. She was ready.
She stopped first at Hunter’s room. He had thrown his battered duffel bag in the corner, and was sprawled on the bed when she knocked on his open door. “Yeah, come in,” he invited.
“Hey,” she smiled. “How do you like your room?”
“It’s great,” he told her. “The shower is wow!”
“Yes. Feel free. You can come downstairs if you like. Are you hungry?”
“No, Jacques had a big dinner for us. I’d like a drink, though.”
“Can do that,” she said. “I’m going to see Ramsay. Have a look around.”
“All right,” he said with a grunt, getting off the bed.
Amanda walked down the hall. Ramsay’s door was closed. She knocked. “It’s me,” she said.
Ramsay opened it. “Hi,” he said, stepping aside. A designer suitcase sat on the bed. He had started to hang up his clothes.
“Is your room all right?”
“It’s fine. Thanks.”
“Are you all right?”
“Fine.” He gave her a smile. “What are we doing tonight?”
“We’ll have a drink together downstairs. See where the night leads us. No pressure.”
“Okay,” he said. “I’ll be down in a minute.”
“I want to give you the grand tour,” Amanda said. She reached over and hugged him. “I’m glad you’re here.”
He smiled again, and Amanda left him.
Hunter was downstairs with a drink in his hand when Amanda arrived. The new girl Clarissa was just standing around, obviously enjoying the view, and with those black spandex pants he was wearing with the open white shirt, there was a lot of view to enjoy. His black hair curled loosely over his forehead tonight, and with those dark eyes, he looked like a pirate. “Clarissa”—Amanda spoke gently; she couldn’t blame the girl for being spellbound…”you can leave now.”
“Y-yes.” She bobbed her head then, looking at Hunter again, she said, “Good night, Hunter.”
“Good night, lovely lady.” He winked at her, and she practically swooned as she danced from the room.
Amanda smirked. “So you can be charming.”
“I can be anything you want me to be,” he replied, lifting an eyebrow.
“That’s good to know,” Amanda said, running her gaze over him.
He winked at her. She laughed. “You like to play the wicked boy.”
“I am the wicked boy,” he growled, then threw the liquor to the back of his throat.
Ramsay entered, glancing once at Hunter, then dismissing him. He took Amanda’s arm, hopping a little like an excited boy. “I’m ready for my tour.”
“I was going to ask you, Amanda,” Hunter interjected, “am I to be expected to have the same, ah … menu for three months, or will there be some variety?”
Ramsay released Amanda’s arm. “Yes, I know what he means.” He glanced at Hunter. “There’s only so much of that type I can stomach.”
Hunter turned his back.
“Okay boys, you just got here. Play nice,” Amanda scolded. “I won’t let you get bored, don’t worry. Come on. Let’s see the house.”
They ended up out by the pool. The stars were shining bright in the night sky, and there was a warm breeze. “I asked Clarissa to make up a pitcher of margaritas. How about it, boys?”
“You know I can’t drink,” Ramsay said, looking at the pool.
Hunter stripped off his shirt. “Oh, come on, Ramsay, when you drink, you’re almost human. Almost. Is it heated?” He looked at Amanda.
“Of course,” she said absently, her eyes on the rippling muscles of Hunter’s back and chest. He began to pull his pants down over his hips and Ramsay moved over to one of the chairs, passing some comment to Hunter she didn’t quite hear.
Amanda didn’t move. She stood perfectly still holding her breath until Hunter stood there completely naked. When he went to jump into the pool, she suddenly said, “Don’t.”
“Oh,” he said. “I can’t swim in it?”
“Yes, you can,” she said, “but not yet. I want to look at you for a minute if you don’t mind.”
He grinned at her, moving slowly around in a circle. “Knock yourself out, woman.”
“Jesus Christ,” she breathed. The way the moonlight bathed his body, he was just about perfect.
Smiling, she said suddenly, “Go ahead. Take a swim.” She walked over and sat near Ramsay as Hunter dived in the pool. “He’s got an incredible body.”
“Yes,” Ramsay said, h
is head back, eyes closed. “He does.”
“Whatever it is about Hunter you can’t stand, I want you to … well, objectify him. Can you do that?”
He opened his eyes. “I would if I knew what it meant.”
She laughed, pouring herself some of the ice-cold drink. “Think of him only as a body. Just as a sexual object. A toy. Not real.”
He smiled at her. “Okay.” That’s all he said, and Amanda wasn’t sure what he was thinking. He’d accepted her suggestion a little too easily.
Amanda handed Hunter a towel as he crawled up out of the pool, water running deliciously over his chest, water from his shiny black hair dripping down his muscular biceps. He was almost too irresistible at the moment. She handed him a drink as he wrapped the towel around his waist and sat down beside her. As he swallowed, he let his thighs drape open and it was obvious that his cock was hard, because she could see the tantalizing rise in the towel. She cleared her throat. Oh, she wanted. She needed to see Ramsay take care of that erection right now. Actually, she would have liked to see Hunter spread out right there beside the pool with Ramsay licking every inch of his succulent hard body.
“Would you mind”—she cleared her throat…”getting rid of that towel, Hunter?” She licked her lips as she finished her second margarita.
He lifted an eyebrow, then stood. “Whatever the lady’s pleasure,” he replied, hooking a finger in the towel and letting it fall to the ground with one tug. His erection was inches from her face, hard, standing straight up between muscular thighs. Her gaze caressed it. She glanced over at Ramsay, whose eyes were suddenly focused on the same place.
“I instructed Ramsay earlier to objectify you.” Amanda looked up and met Hunter’s eyes. His expression was unreadable as he stood there waiting. “Ramsay,” she said, “he’s yours. Your sexual plaything; do what you want.”
Ramsay cleared his throat. “Can I call him by another name?”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Hunter muttered.
“It’s only a game, Hunter.” Amanda grinned. “What should we name him?”
“Hazard,” Ramsay said.
Amanda quirked an eyebrow. “Interesting choice. And what do you want to do to Hazard?”
“Here?”
“Yes, no one can see. We’re surrounded by trees. Tell me,” she urged, undoing the buttons on her blouse.
