Celebrity Dirt: A Fake Relationship Romantic Suspense Standalone

by J. D. Hollyfield

  “Yes, boss,” Logan grits out, wiping a drop of blood from his nostril.

  “Now…” He turns to the rest of his crew. “There’re over one hundred pounds of product headed here on the Odyssey Cruise. I want you all on that boat, ready to distribute it into vehicles and take it across town to the designated warehouses.” He directs his attention to the man from earlier. “Chino, since Justice is incompetent, I want you and Emilio to search the gala for Vaughn. Roster shows she’s checked in. Find her and get rid of her. A nice bullet in the head sounds like the perfect farewell. Make it look like a drug deal gone bad.” Then he turns to me. “And you…pretty little thing, when you get bored of this one, please do pay me a visit.” His smile is nauseating. “MOVE!”

  Everyone steps into line, taking their orders and dispersing. Logan wraps his arm around my waist. “Let’s go.” My legs barely move as he guides me to another door and down a hallway that spits us out a side door of the ballroom. As soon as we get outside, a rush of wind blasts me in the face, practically knocking me over.

  “Wait,” I plead, but Logan doesn’t stop. He pulls me toward the lake, where a large yacht waits. Yacht…boat…water—water.

  “Nooo way.” I cement my heels into the ground, stopping us both.

  “Yes, way. Let’s go.” He yanks me, and I stumble a few steps but manage to relock my feet. “Addy. Fucking move.”

  My head whips back and forth as I begin to panic. “Yeah…or not. I’m not getting on that boat. I’m afraid of water. Or things that pretend to float. I’ve seen Titanic way too many times. Nope.”

  Logan huffs an impressive gust of air, shoving his fingers through his hair. His hands ball into fists, and he curses, looking around for another option. Letting me go home would be the best one. “You have to get on that boat.”

  “Yeah…well, I can’t.” His jaw clenches, and I can hear his teeth grinding over the violent slamming of waves against the pier’s barrier. His eyes are as dark as the night sky. I search the pier, hoping to find a savior in a stranger, anyone I can scream for to help, but it’s deserted. He comes at me, and I jump back. “Best option here is to tell them we got into a fight. Let me go, and you can go do your thing. I’ll just go home and call it a night. In all honesty, that sounds like a fantastic—”

  His arm grasps my bicep, heaving me forward. I yelp, then melt into his warm body. Once I siphon just a little bit more of the enticing feel of him against me, I’m going to fight back.

  “I won’t tell anyone what I saw, I swear. I’m loyal. Ask my mom! She always said I was so loyal to my friends…well, I don’t have any friends, but—”

  He covers my mouth.

  “I don’t think you understand. You’re not going anywhere but with me.”

  That’s too bad.

  “Do you not get the amount of fucking danger you’re in right now? You’re in the lion’s den of Chicago’s biggest drug lord. You think you’re going to just go home and tuck yourself into your pretty little flowered bed with fluffy pink pillows, wake up, and everything will go back to normal? I let you go home, they’ll come after you, and you won’t see tomorrow. They’ll want to know where my girlfriend went. And when you’re not with me, they’ll get suspicious. So, you’re going to get on that goddamn boat and play by my rules until I can figure out what to do with you. You. Got. Me?” I nod slowly, my eyes wide. “Now, I’m going to remove my hand from your mouth, and you’re going to be a good little girl.”

  He pulls his hand away. “I have all gray covers.”

  His brows crease. “What?”

  “My bed. It’s all gray. I actually hate the color—”

  “Jesus Christ!” He lunges toward me, tossing me over his shoulder. I pound furiously on his back. “Please no! I’ll do as you say, but I can’t get on that boat. I’ll have a panic attack and die. It’s a thing. I’ve been this way since I was a kid. Phobias. Long list of them.” His fingers dig into my hips, and a low growl echoes into the night as he flips me back over his shoulder and onto my feet. “I’m serious. I’m super scared of boats.”

  He assesses me for another moment before turning his angry eyes to the boat, then back to me. He takes a step closer, forcefully exhaling through his pursed lips. “I need you to trust me. I won’t let anything happen to you, but I need to be on that boat. Which means so do you.” He’s no longer sporting his bad boy frown or firm jaw. He still looks like he wants to throttle me, but there’s a thin veil of stress in his eyes.

  My stomach grows tense. “Shoot, okay…shoot! I’ll get on but hit me first.”

  “Say what?”

  “Hit me. Knock me out. I won’t willingly walk on that boat. My feet just know better.” I catch a partial smirk on his face, but as fast as it appears, it’s gone. He runs his tongue over his lower lip, and I lose focus on the issue at hand. I watch the way his dark blue eyes glimmer from the streetlamp above as he casts a sultry glance my way.

  “I’m not going to hit you.” He reaches out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “If anything, I’d like to do something else to distract you.”

  Uh oh.

  “Like what? I actually don’t take pain very well. I’m not sure why I suggested that earlier—”

  He steps forward, and warmth spreads over my skin as one hand curves around my waist while the other cups my cheek. Then, his lips are on mine, slow and tentative. It doesn’t take long before I lean into him, my hands finding their way around his neck. He takes that as my invitation to keep going, kissing me with a degree more of intensity, causing the world around me to sway. His tongue parts my shivering lips, sending a tremor of heat between my legs, evoking sensations unfamiliar to me. Before I know it, I’m kissing him back—truly kissing him.

  His hands cup my butt cheeks, and he lifts me in his arms. My dress hikes up my thighs and I wrap my legs around him. We stay like this, our lips fitting together like two puzzle pieces. I let out a soft whimper of anticipation as he explores my mouth, no longer caring about the slamming of angry waves against the pier, instead focusing on the inferno of passion rolling through me. Just as his kiss becomes more demanding, he withdraws slowly, drops my feet to the ground, and pulls away. “There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

  My sight is still fogged over. My hands shake at the adrenaline running through my veins. The world around me is nonexistent. “What wasn’t?” I ask, my voice hoarse, inhaling a shallow breath.

  Logan adjusts his suit jacket, brushing out the wrinkles. “Getting on the boat.”

  What? We’re not on the—holy crap! We are on the boat! “How…when…?”

  “You just needed a distraction. I gave it to you.” His eyes are transfixed on my swollen lips. There’s a temptation in the way he runs his tongue over his bottom lip. “Don’t think too much into it. We gotta hurry.” His hand clasps around mine, pulling me forward. We weave through clusters of small crowds dancing and drinking, stopping at a set of stairs leading to the lower level. The lower we go, the more the music and sounds of partygoers fade into the distance.

  “Where are we going?” I ask, though I probably don’t want to know.

  “Below deck. It’s sealed off to the public. Vincent has cargo being transported to look like catering for the gala.” He suddenly stops, and I slam into his back. Twisting his body around to face me, he offers me a warning glare. “Don’t say a word. Don’t make eye contact. Stay next to me, and do not wander off.” He starts walking again, and I latch onto his bicep…well, as much of it as I can.

  “What’s in the crates?”

  “No more questions. The less you know, the better.”

  He tries to walk, and I tug at his arm. “Yeah, but maybe a hint? Drugs? Stolen cars? Bodies?” I’ll need to know this for when I make it home—if I make it home—because I’m writing up every single juicy bit of this.

  He eyes me threateningly. “Get that stupid idea out of your head right the fuck now.” There’s that growling again.

  “What idea?”
I ask sweetly. I’d be dumb to pass up the opportunity to write about Chicago’s mob boss wheeling and dealing drugs through Navy Pier’s most elite entertainment yachts— “Ouch!” I yelp when he pushes me into the stairway wall.

  “Don’t. Be. Stupid,” he hisses, his warm breath caressing my face. “I should have left you to the wolves the second I realized you were a fraud.”

  “And why didn’t you? You didn’t have to say I was your girlfriend. Could have said I was no one and walked away.” His angry eyes burn into mine. This may be where I kiss my good fortune goodbye. “Okay, sorry! It’s just…I’m nervous and a little scared. I don’t know what I’m walking into down there. If you could just tell me what to expect and maybe remind me of Vincent’s last name again—”

  “You two fucking up there? Get the hell down here. Vincent’s waiting,” Chino shouts, breaking the moment and my chance at a possible lead. Logan looks ready to jump down my throat and strangle me from the inside out. He pushes off the wall and grabs my wrist, dragging me the rest of the way down. When we reach the bottom level, it’s complete chaos. Men in suits haul large wooden boxes onto catering carts. Once a cart is full, a white sheet is thrown over it, and a food label is slapped on the side. One after another, as if anyone’s going to believe someone ordered this much food.

  “Justice,” Vincent calls out. “Head to the back. Make sure everything looks clear.” He nods, grabbing my hand, but Vincent’s words stop me. “Leave her here.” Logan freezes, his eyes shooting to mine. “I’ll take good care of her while you’re doing your job.” His acrid tone doesn’t go unnoticed. Logan takes one last look at me, his expression blank, and turns on his heel, heading toward a back door.

  The air in the room shifts as my safety net disappears. The moment the door shuts behind him, my nerves spike, anxiously begging for him to come back. My eyes stay trained on the men maneuvering boxes while I begin fidgeting with my hands.

  “Finding all this interesting?”

  I jerk at the sound of his voice, bringing my attention away from the worker bees to Vincent. The way he eyes me with such hunger makes me uncomfortable, as if he already has me naked and bound in his mind. I clear my throat. “Yeah, looks like a well-run catering company. Must have great Yelp reviews to haul this much food at once.”

  Vincent’s laugh is loud at first, then dissolves into a low, mocking chuckle. He brings his hard eyes back to mine. “Such the personality you have. I see why Logan has kept you to himself this whole time.”

  My shoulders lift, hoping to hide my nerves with a carefree shrug. “We’re private about our relationship.” Please don’t ask anything else. Please—

  “Must be since he’s worked for me for two years and I’ve never once heard about you. Not even a little slip. Someone as beautiful as you, I can’t imagine he wouldn’t want to brag just a little.” He leans into me, inhaling the scent of my hair. “Ah yes…impossible. You smell heavenly. If you were mine, I’d take good care of you. All your needs.” His eyes crudely roam down my face to my breasts. His tongue protrudes as he licks his bottom lip, still trailing down until his heated stare threatens to burn my dress right off. “Tell me, does Logan satisfy your needs?”

  My cheeks heat with embarrassment. His hand groping himself has me on the verge of sprinting to the nearest exit. Before I can, his arm shoots forward, capturing my arm. His hold is rough, and I wince in pain. “Answer me.”

  I fail at hiding my fear, worried my shaky, shallow breaths are giving me away. Since I don’t want to die tonight, I rein in my emotions. Calming my nerves, I slap a confident smile on my face. “Logan knows exactly how to rev my engine, if that’s what you’re asking. Knows every inch of my body. If you’re wondering if I think someone else could please me the way he does, I doubt it. Only Logan Justice knows how to make me scream.” I hold my breath, fighting not to hyperventilate. Because where in the hell did that come from? I thank my lucky stars above for dirty romance books. They may have just saved my life.

  A door slamming and shoes hitting the floor have us turning to see Logan returning. “Everything’s clear. Last crate’s been disassembled. We’re good to head out.”

  The second he’s within arm’s reach, I jump up into his arms. He’s a bit startled but pulls me into his chest, not fighting me when I bring my lips to his. I kiss him hard, my mouth opening his, my tongue slipping in for an erotic dance. His hands grab my butt, squeezing and pressing himself into me. Our kiss turns bruising and possessive as a hungry growl travels up his throat. He sucks in my bottom lip and bites. We stay locked together, neither showing any signs of letting up. The deeper our kiss, the more invisible the world around us becomes. I could go on like this forever.

  “All right. I get it. Not for the taking.” Vincent’s low voice slices through our moment, and Logan breaks away, his eyes carnal, taking in my swollen lips.

  He lets go of me, and I slide down his chest, still gripping his suitcoat. “Miss me, baby?” His voice is light, unrestrained, unlike mine, sounding deep with desire.

  I make an attempt at clearing away the impulsive thoughts of ripping his shirt open and feathering his hard chest with kisses. Because since this isn’t a damn fairytale, and I’m fighting to stay alive and make headlines, I hold back, forcing out a standard response. “I’m horny, babe. Let’s hurry up and get out of here. I need you to do all the things you know I love.” Or I’m going to stick my foot farther into my mouth.

  “That’s enough,” Vincent barks, and I jump out of my skin. When I turn to face him, his eyes flame with rage. I’d put money on some envy lingering in there too. Logan catches it as well and wraps me in his arms. His lips find my ear, his voice barely a whisper. “I’m gonna get you out of here. Just keep it together a little bit longer.”

  “What was that?” Vincent catches our whispered exchange and takes a menacing step toward us. “I don’t like secrets, you know that.” Brushing his suitcoat to the side, he reveals a gun. I jerk backwards, my eyes fixated on it, and accidentally knock the back of my head into Logan’s chin.

  “Shit,” Logan grunts.

  Vincent pulls it out and waves it in the air. So much for returning this dress. I may have just peed myself.

  Logan throws up his hands in surrender. “Hey, now…just telling my girl we’re almost done, so she gets that dance I promised her. Relax, Boss. No harm done.”

  Vincent doesn’t believe him. His cold stare holds him captive. I’ve stopped breathing. We’re all in a standoff, waiting for Vincent to make a move. What feels like an eternity later, he lowers his gun. “Finish the job. I want no sign we were here.”

  I push my heart that’s now lodged in my throat back down where it belongs. Having your life flash before your eyes is an intense thing. Your mind works in strange ways, like having strange thoughts of pee stains and blood splatter ruining my chances of returning this dress. I breathe a sigh of relief, ready to get the hell off this boat and go home, where I can write down everything that happened while it’s still fresh in my head. Vincent—last name to be determined. Drug mob. Odyssey Cruise coverup. Super attractive employee whose kissing skills should be as illegal as his profession.

  “You’re mumbling, stop.”

  I look up at Logan. “I’m not. Just trying to keep my facts in order.”

  He tugs me forward, walking us toward the stairwell where we came in. “Don’t even think about it. This isn’t a game.”

  “No, it’s my job, and there’s no way I’m not writing—”

  “Lookie what we found!” The menacing voice of one of Vincent’s men has us turning toward the voice. At his barbaric scowl, I reach for Logan’s hand. I catch movement by Emilio’s feet, and my eyes protrude out of their sockets. By the grip of his fist, he’s holding a girl by her hair. “She’s a runner. A biter, too. Boss, what do you want me to do with her?”

  We all stare at the girl, wild with fright. Her glittery dress is ripped, her eyes smeared black from crying. “Who the fuck is that?” Vince
nt barks.

  Emilio throws her forward. She tries to get her feet under her, but trips, scraping her knees on the floor. “Francesca Vaughn. She had the invitation in her purse.” I gasp. Even Logan makes an unsettling sound. “Want me to take her out back, shoot her in the head, and dump her overboard?”

  “Wait, that’s not Francesca!” I blurt out.

  Logan clutches me too tight to him. His warm breath fans over my ear as he whispers threateningly, “Shut the fuck up.” He steps forward, not easing his grip. “No, you dumb motherfucker. That sure ain’t her.”

  “Help! Please!” the girl cries. “I found the invitation at the door. I just wanted to get into the party and meet a celebrity. I heard Lady Gaga was here. Please, I’m sorry!” She breaks into sobs. The goon kicks her, and she howls in pain.

  Vincent walks up to her, bending down and grabbing her by the hair. “Do you know what happens to little whores who try to steal from me?”

  She sobs again, shaking her head. “I didn’t steal. I found it! Please don’t hurt me.”

  Vincent continues, ignoring her plea. “It’s a shame I’m not in the mood to be forgiving.” He stands, addressing his guy. “Take her out back and shoot her.” I jump forward to come to her defense, but Logan stops me. “Or maybe…” He spins around, his eyes landing on Logan. “You should do the honors.” He brings his hand back to his gun, giving Logan a silent message. Do it or else.

  Time stands still. I stare at the sobbing, terrified, and confused girl. Her panic-stricken eyes find mine, and like a coward, I look away. She continues to scream for help, and I move closer to Logan for comfort. Don’t freak out. No one’s actually going to shoot an innocent girl. I bring my eyes back to her, silently telling her everything’s going to be okay.

  Logan suddenly releases me.

  “Wait, where are you going?” I rush out, panicked. He doesn’t answer me, which doesn’t sit well. He isn’t really going to shoot this girl, is he? He may be a bit arrogant, but he hasn’t given off killer vibes. Oh god…