Exposure

by Ember Dante

  Patrons wearing latex, leather, and fishnet were lined up three-deep at the well-appointed bar waiting their turn to order their preferred cocktail of the evening. The antsy ones passed the time making out or mingling with other guests. Regulations dictated that all sex acts were to be confined to the private rooms, but Blaire played fast and loose with the rules, so pretty much anything was allowed. Proving that point, a man set his date on a large ottoman and pushed her backward until her head hung off the other side. Spreading her legs, he knelt and buried his face between her thighs. Another man, I assumed his friend, knelt at her head and drove his cock down her throat.

  When I looked away from the tableau before me, and my gaze landed on Blaire. She stood near the bar, swaying to the soft jazz played by the band in the corner. Never one to be overshadowed, she was dressed in a clingy black dress barely longer than her crotch and a wide black collar covered with metal spikes in various lengths. Her blonde hair was teased into a Dolly Parton-esque halo and pinned in place at the nape. There was probably enough hair spray in it to light up a small country if it caught fire. Sensing my presence, she turned, her smile morphing into a Cheshire cat grin as she sauntered toward me. Not only was her dress short, it only covered half her breasts, and each step bounced them further out of their confinement. I couldn’t deny it—Blaire was hot. Unfortunately, she was also crazy, and that was a combination I didn’t intend to experience again. Ever.

  As soon as she reached me, she wrapped her arms around my waist and tilted her chin for a kiss. Suppressing a shudder, I attempted to disengage myself from her embrace.

  “This is just business, Blaire. That’s the only reason I’m here.”

  She released me and slid her hands up my chest. “Stop being so stiff and learn to have a good time.”

  My fingers closed around her wrists, halting their progress. Lack of sleep made me irritable, and I was even less enthused about being there than I had been when I spoke to her the day before.

  “I know how to have a good time. I just don’t want it to be with you.”

  “You’re an ass.”

  “To you, I am.”

  “That’s a hell of a way to treat your business partner,” she grumbled.

  “We won’t be partners for much longer.”

  “You don’t mean that,” she purred, fluttering her eyelashes. “Besides, you only have two options.”

  I pushed her away, not releasing my hold until she was at arm’s length. The bitch was clinging to me like a fucking barnacle. Blaire the Barnacle—now that was funny. “We’ll see about that.”

  “I wasn’t kidding about going to the police.”

  “I’m not discussing this with you again. I’m here to photograph your clients, so can we just get on with it, please? The sooner we start, the sooner I can get the fuck out of here.”

  “They’re in room six,” she huffed. “To be continued. We aren’t finished, Ian.”

  After a rough night and the day from hell, I was more than ready for a few drinks by the time I arrived at the Flying Saucer. Parker was already at the bar, nursing a tall beer. I slid onto the stool beside him and waved over the bartender.

  “Long day, Ace?” he asked, waiting until after I had my first sip.

  I gave him a sidelong glance and rubbed the side of my face with my middle finger. “Yes, you could say that.”

  “How was the shoot last night?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  Parker chuckled and downed more of his beer.

  I took a long drink before broaching the subject I needed to discuss. Any remaining laughter died when Parker saw the seriousness written across my face.

  “I need your help. And I know what I’m about to ask may put you in a difficult position.”

  Parker set his glass on the bar. “I’m intrigued. What do you need?”

  “To sever all ties with Blaire.”

  “So? Quit.” He shrugged. “Tell her you don’t want to work with her clients anymore. What’s so hard about that?”

  “You remember when I told you about that accident with Mason and his friend?”

  “Yeah. That was what, ten, eleven years ago?”

  “Right.” I leaned closer and lowered my voice. “Somehow Blaire found out about it. I don’t know how, or when, but she knows what really happened. I’m not sure she’s got the balls to go through with it, but she’s threatened to go public.”

  “She’s extorting you?”

  “Pretty much. My only other option is to give in and fuck her, but I’m sure you can figure out which is the lesser of two evils.”

  “Go to the fucking police.”

  “I can’t.” My breath left in a frustrated exhale. “I told you what happened. You’re the only other person who knows. Hell, Finn doesn’t even know.”

  His visage was even more stern than normal, and he pointed a finger in my face. “Go to the police and stop protecting your father.”

  “I’m not protecting him. I couldn’t care less what happens to Connor. Do you have any idea what this would do to Mason? Or my mother?” I released an ironic laugh. “What about Brad? That kid almost died.”

  “Mason isn’t a sixteen-year-old kid anymore, you know. He’s a grown ass man. He can handle it. Tell him and your mom the truth, then Blaire won’t have any leverage against you. Problem solved.”

  If it could only be so simple. “You know how Mason is. Fuck, it’s a miracle we were able to put it behind us the first time.”

  “So you’re telling me you’d rather deal with Blaire on your own and let everyone you care about continue to believe you fucked up instead?” There was an edge in Parker’s tone.

  “I’m just trying to protect my family and clean up the mess I’ve made. I need to figure out how to make her back off. Can you help me or not?”

  Parker’s face darkened. “I’m offended. Of course I’ll help. It’ll be easy enough for me to dig around, but it may take a while since I’m not there all the time.” He drained his glass. “She’s been complaining about a few client issues, which is why I was there last night. That’ll give me a reason to be there more often. Just play along for a while longer until I can look around. If she’s into some of the shit I think she is, we shouldn’t have any trouble.”

  It was my turn to be intrigued. “What do you think she’s doing?”

  He shook his head and signaled for another round. “I trust you, man, but I’m not saying shit until I know for sure. Besides, it’s better if you don’t know, trust me.”

  Before I could push him further, the bartender walked up with fresh drinks, and we decided to order food.

  “What else is new?” Parker asked, closing the previous subject.

  “I met someone.”

  Pausing with his beer halfway to his mouth, Parker jerked his head toward me, mouth gaping wide. It was an amusing expression on someone with his military background.

  “What the fuck, Ace? When the hell did that happen?”

  “Friday. I was hanging at the Glass Cactus.”

  “What were you doing way the hell out in Grapevine?”

  “Work. Southern Living is running a feature on the resort.”

  “Trolling, were you?” He grinned.

  He thought he had my number. Truthfully, I hadn’t trolled for pussy in ages. The club scene no longer held the same appeal for me. I guess I’d finally outgrown it.

  “Nah. I just stopped in for a couple beers. Anyway, I was just about to leave when this little hottie bumped into me.” Parker turned toward me, hanging on every word. “She’s beautiful, man. Her eyes are the most incredible color I’ve ever seen. Fuck. They’re teal green—really vibrant teal green—Caribbean green. I thought she was wearing contacts at first, but ... no.”

  Lifting the glass to his lips, Parker leaned away and cocked an eyebrow. “Sounds like my boy is smitten.”

  I rolled my eyes and took another drink.

  Parker motioned for me to continue. “And?” />
  “Are you going to cut the commentary and let me finish?” I waited for his nod. “She’s about five-three, five-four, hourglass figure, perfect skin, and long, thick auburn hair that falls about halfway down her back. When she smiles...fuck me.” I lifted my glass, inclining it toward Parker in a mock toast. “You get the picture. She’s fucking hot as hell.”

  “Well, did you tag her?”

  “Show some fucking respect, asshole.”

  “I know it’s been a while since, uh, what was her name? Melissa? Madeleine? Mad Cow? Something like that.”

  Why the fuck did I bother telling him anything? I half-turned toward him and rested my forearm on the bar. “She was not a cow.”

  “I didn’t say she was. She was hot. I also remember she had a nice pair of tits on her. I meant mad as in crazy.”

  I shook my head and faced forward again. “There is something so wrong with you.”

  “C’mon, man. If I can’t fuck with you, who can?”

  “Hmph.”

  We sat in silence a few minutes before he finally leaned closer and nudged me with his elbow. “Are you going to answer my question?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Did you say something?” I grinned. I could fuck with him, too.

  He released a heavy sigh. “Did you tag her?”

  I took another drink to stall. Let him stew. “Three times, to be exact,” I muttered.

  “That’s what I’m talking ‘bout!” He slapped me on the back. “The force is strong with this one.” He waved at the bartender. “We need another round, got something to celebrate. Ace got laid last week.”

  Fucking smart-ass. The bartender brought another round and delivered our food. After taking a healthy bite of his sandwich, Parker turned his head, mouth full, mumbling what sounded like, “When are you seeing her again?”

  “Well, that’s the kicker. Remember when I told you I had to give an interview to promote my show?” I stuck a few fries in my mouth. “Guess who showed up to do the interview?”

  Parker paused before taking his next bite and stared at me, dumbfounded. “Who?”

  “Oh, my God. Have you not been listening? It was her.”

  “No shit? The redhead?”

  “It’s not red, dude. It’s auburn. You know, reddish-brown?”

  “You’ve got it bad, my friend,” Parker laughed, “if you know the difference between red and auburn hair.” He picked up his beer and laughed again. “So, how was it?”

  My lips parted in a broad smile, and I ignored his question, taking another bite of my sandwich instead.

  “That good, huh?”

  “Yeah. That good. She’s fucking perfect.”

  “So what’s the problem?”

  “I asked her out, and she said she’d have to think about it. Something about not being professional to fraternize with someone she interviewed, or some shit.”

  “You’ve already fraternized.”

  I threw my hands in the air. “That’s what I said.”

  “Then let’s try to look at it from her perspective. This is her job, right? Chicks are pretty serious about that shit. Her job could be a legitimate concern if anything were to go wrong between you, but maybe there’s something else in her past you don’t know about.” He finished off his beer with a quick chug and motioned for another. “Besides, don’t you have things in your past she doesn’t know?”

  Damn. I hated when Parker made sense. “Okay. Maybe you have a point,” I grudgingly admitted. “What the hell am I supposed to do if she says no?”

  “Then maybe it wasn’t meant to be.”

  6

  Emmy

  “Have you made a decision yet?”

  Jules was persistent, I’d give her that. She’d been trying to convince me to accept Ian’s invitation since Monday. I never considered her a romantic, but she saw our second meeting as a sign. Maybe she was right.

  We slid onto barstools, and the bartender delivered our usual drink order without so much as a question—a sure sign we went there far too often. My fingers worried at the cocktail napkin under the glass sitting before me, knowing it wouldn’t be long before Jules pressed me for an answer.

  “It’s not that I don’t want to see him again, but I have reservations. I told you what he does, right? The type of photography he does?”

  Jules nodded, encouraging me to continue.

  “He works closely with female models—mostly naked models. I don’t think I could handle it if we got involved and he cheated on me.”

  “Not every guy is like Fucktard,” Jules exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. “I’ve known you a long time, Em. This isn’t like you. You’ve always given people the benefit of the doubt. We talked about this the other day.” She paused to take a drink and held up a finger, a warning to remain silent. “I’m just saying you make every guy you meet pay the price for Brett’s crimes. You used to give people the chance to prove whether they could be trusted, now everyone is guilty until proven innocent. Only you haven’t found anyone innocent.”

  “So, what are you saying?”

  “I think you should keep an open mind. You can’t keep using Brett as the measuring stick for every guy who shows an interest in you.”

  “I know,” I whined, and the fact I was whining about it pissed me off. “I’m just afraid of being hurt again.”

  “I get it. I would be, too.” Jules poked my arm. “But maybe you could get to know him a little better before lumping him in the same category as what’s-his-name. I mean, just because he works around hot, naked models doesn’t mean he wants to fuck them. It’s kind of like a gynecologist.” She took another drink. “Would you automatically accuse a doctor of screwing his patients just because he gives breast and pelvic exams all day?”

  “I’m not sure that makes me feel better, but I get your point, as out of left field as it is.” I laughed. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll call him tomorrow and tell him I’ll go. Besides, he is hot as shit.”

  “Hell, I haven’t even seen the guy yet, and I’m ready to bang him.”

  Apparently satisfied with my noncommittal answer, Jules let me off the hook, and we slipped into our normal, easy banter and other topics. It was a pleasant change from her badgering me about Ian. By our third round we were laughing and engaged in a silly game of guessing what other people did for a living. Jules gradually grew quiet, and I noticed she was focused on a man at the other end of the bar. I strained to see around her and past the other patrons crammed around us. It was difficult to see much, but he looked big and hot as hell with short, dark hair, dark eyes, and olive skin—very Mediterranean. Wow. A short goatee accompanied by what appeared to be several days’ worth of stubble graced his handsome face. A vertical scar ran through his right eyebrow, giving him a dangerous, bad boy appeal—definitely Jules’ type.

  I looked at Jules again, who had flipped the switch to flirt mode. I’d seen it enough times during our friendship that I could narrate it better than a sports commentator. First, she batted her lashes, then twisted a few strands of hair around her finger. The coy smile came next, followed by biting her bottom lip. She turned further away from me and tilted her head. If I had to guess, she’d just mouthed a silent “hi” and gave him a wider smile, displaying her pearly whites.

  “If you’re going to stare, why don’t you just ask him to join us?” I muttered.

  “You wouldn’t mind?”

  I shrugged. “You may as well if you’re going to eye fuck him like that.”

  “Okay.”

  Without hesitation, she turned and made a ‘come here’ gesture with her finger, calling him over. He stood, and it became obvious he was with a friend. My eyes widened when I saw who it was—Ian. No way in hell. I slapped Jules’ leg to get her attention.

  “Ow. That hurts. What?”

  “That’s him.”

  “Who? The big guy?”

  “No. His friend.”

  Rolling her eyes, Jules sighed in exasperation. “What are you talking about?
”

  “Ian. You know—the guy we were just discussing?”

  “Holy shit! What are the fucking odds?” Her eyebrows lifted as she flicked the tips of her fingers against my leg. “It must be fate.”

  Fate. There was a time I would have scoffed at the idea, but that was before I met Ian. I’d seen him three times in one week—the Universe had to be telling me something. Conflicting emotions raged within me as the two men grabbed their drinks and ambled over. I was right about Ian’s friend—he was huge, kind of like that Khal Drogo guy from Game of Thrones. I couldn’t help but wonder if that held true everywhere. Damn. Maybe I was as big a perv as Jules.

  He settled against the bar, one corner of his mouth lifting as his eyes raked over Jules. Ian moved closer to me and winked, his lips curving into a secretive smile. The man was entirely too sexy for his own good. Well, two could play that game. Without breaking eye contact, I swiped my tongue across my bottom lip and pulled it between my teeth. It was a simple action, not even that flirty, but he sucked in a breath, and his eyes never left my mouth as he lifted his glass to his lips. Jules focused on her new friend and adopted the same flirty demeanor I’d witnessed numerous times. Whenever she met a hot guy, her voice dropped two octaves, and she spoke in a breathy, husky tone. It made me want to gag.

  “Hi, I’m Jules. Glad you decided to join us.”

  “I’m Parker.” He jerked his thumb toward Ian. “Ace bet me that I wouldn’t be able to start a conversation with the most beautiful girl in the bar.” He lifted his eyebrows. “Want to buy some drinks with his money?”

  Ian glared at him askance, but otherwise didn’t react.

  “That’s got to be the dumbest pickup line I’ve ever heard, but I’ll give you points for creativity.” Jules laughed, then nodded toward me. “This is my friend, Emmy.”