Without turning around, I already know who’s responsible. Of course, I recognize his deep rumble of a voice, but also, I’m six-eight and a firm two-hundred and twenty pounds, so I’m not easily pushed around. The shove I receive makes me stumble forward and I’m followed through the door by Link, who’s only six-five but outweighs me by at least seventy or eighty pounds. The dude is simply massive, a walking shaved-head cube of granite, all tattoos and attitude. And unlike the other three Bad Boys, Link is not what anyone would call handsome.
When I do spin to face him, he’s smiling at me. Since Link doesn’t smile all that much, I simply laugh back. We take our seats with the two couples and before long, we’re well into our dinner and everyone is having a great time. I’m surprised at how easily the two girls mesh with the Bad Boys, but they do. They’re smart and funny enough to hold their own, and neither of them takes shit from us dudes. It also doesn’t hurt that they’re both beautiful women.
As always, Drake dominates the conversation, while Link talks about a third as much as anyone at the table. We spend dinner getting caught up in each other’s lives, then after an hour and three bottles of wine, Drake catches the waitress’s attention while our dishes are being cleared.
“We’re going to need a bottle of your best tequila and six shot glasses.”
Uh-oh. Something’s up. I glance at Mason and he quickly looks away. Whatever it is, he’s in on it, too.
The waitress returns with a bottle of Gran Patron Burdeos Anejo. At Drake’s urging, she pours six shots, then leaves.
Drake stands ceremoniously. Allie is visibly nervous and I’m guessing she’s pregnant. Shit is about to get real.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I have an announcement to make.”
I knew it. The room grows quiet, with the only sound coming being the muffled restaurant noises on the other side of the curtains.
Drake reaches down and takes Allie’s hand. “I’ll make this short and sweet…”
“You’re getting married!” Everyone turns to look at Link, surprised that he was the one who blurted it out. Then we all start laughing.
“Yes, we are,” Drake says. “We’re both ecstatic about it.”
I look at Allie and she’s beaming. So’s Drake, for that matter. Mason and Claire also seem thrilled. Link and I are the only two who don’t seem to have bought into the sudden abundance of romance.
We all do our congratulatory shots, then continue to celebrate the happy couple’s big announcement. It’s a very happy little scene, but in the back of my mind I can’t help but see it as the beginning of the end of our little club, and that disappoints me. Bragging about sex to my friends was nearly as much fun as the sex itself.
I’m far from a tequila expert, but the dark golden liquor in that crystal bottle is delicious. After my fourth—or maybe fifth—shot, I start to resent Drake and Mason for fucking things up. What the four of us had was one in a million, the kind of amazing experience that can never really be duplicated. Fuck them both for letting it slip through their fingers.
As I look at Drake and Allie, so obviously enamored with each other, it dawns on me that maybe I’m the one with screwed up priorities. We all couldn’t keep doing this forever. Eventually the pussy train will pull into the station.
Lost in thought, I’m surprised when the waitress taps me on the shoulder and whispers into my ear that I have a visitor outside. I’ve got a good buzz going and can’t imagine who would be asking for me, since I hadn’t told anyone where I would be tonight.
I step through the curtains to find Lana, the tall hostess with the adorable big eyes.
“You said to be sure to find you before I leave. I’m off duty now and was about to go home.”
I grin. “Baby, I’m glad you did. Where are you parked? I’ll walk you to your car.”
Lana says she’s parked behind the restaurant. As I hold the door open for her, I look back at the purple curtain. I don’t plan on going home with this chick, so I’ll be back in a few minutes. I’m just going to flirt her up a bit and get her info to set up something for another time.
When we get to her car, I ask Lana for her number and she calls out the digits as I put them in my contact list.
“Are you really gonna call?”
“Do you want me to call?” I counter.
She smiles. “Of course. I’d love to go out with you, Marcus.”
I kiss her, and it’s great that I don’t have to bend down that far to do it. Something triggered me—Lana’s easy smile, that bit of cleavage, or maybe the alcohol in me. It’s a good, long, kiss, and I pin her against her car. Her tongue feels warm against mine and I immediately feel myself starting to get hard.
Leaning away, I look into her eyes and she’s brave enough to look back. I run a finger over her bottom lip, then slowly down over her chin, then her neck. Lower and lower I go until I’m in that cleavage I’ve been looking at. Lana doesn’t stop me, so I pop the top snap of her white shirt and wait for a reaction. None comes, so I slowly pop another snap and slide my finger farther into her cleavage.
When I unsnap a third one, she sucks in a breath.
“Not here,” she whispers.
“I can’t leave. I have to get back to my party soon.”
I think she’s going to say we’ll have to wait until we go out together, but she doesn’t. It occurs to me that Lana thinks this might be her only shot, that if she doesn’t somehow do something memorable to stand out from the crowd, I might not bother to call her. She understands that a man like me gets phone numbers from a dozen women every week.
There’s a nightclub called Cosmos just a few doors down from Dante’s, and the owner is a friend. With one finger still tracing circles between Lana’s tits, I use the other hand to call Russell. He answers on the fifth ring.
“Russell, it’s Marcus. You at the club?”
“I’m here for another couple of hours. You coming by?”
“Is the VIP room available?”
“Nobody in there at the moment. How many people you bringing?
“Just one. Special occasion. I’ll be at the back door in a minute.”
When I hang up, I look at Lana while continuing to her soft skin stroke, up to her collarbone, then her neck, then up to her earlobe. She knows what I meant when I called Russell and didn’t protest, so I assume she’s good to go. She starts to re-snap her shirt, but I stop her, looking hungrily at her exposed bra and cleavage.
“Leave it like that for me,” I say. “It looks so sexy on you.”
She smiles sexily, then looks around the parking lot. After making sure nobody is watching, she undoes one more snap, opening her shirt to the top of her abdomen. Reaching inside at her shoulder, she slips her bra strap all the way down her arm so she can slide out of it. Lana looks me in the eye as she repeats the process on the other side, then rotates the bra around her ribcage until it’s backwards. Never taking her eyes off mine, she unclasps the bra and slips it out of her shirt, then opens her car door and tosses it inside. And she somehow managed to do all this without exposing her tits.
When she turns around again, her shirt is unsnapped below her cleavage and she pulls the sides apart slightly, exposing a substantial amount of flesh.
“How’s this?” she asks with a devilish grin.
Nice. My kind of girl.
Russell is already standing in the doorway when we walk up. I introduce him to Lana and he gives me a knowing look, then holds the door open for the two of us to pass inside, glancing at Lana’s partially open shirt as she walks by. He leads us down the short hallway and opens the door to the private room.
“It’s all yours,” Russell says.
I thank him and close the door, locking it from the inside. I’ve been in the Cosmos VIP room a few times, usually with friends but occasionally with a woman or two. It’s a medium-sized room with two leather couches, a dozen armchairs, a few tables, a wet bar, and a refrigerator stocked with Champagne, beer, juices, and bottled water.
Stepping back, I unzip my pants and Lana takes over, sliding them down over my hips before doing the same with my underwear. When she sees my cock, her mouth opens involuntarily and she looks up. I smile and reach down, lifting the tip and placing it against her lips. Taking a breath, she gets right to work, licking the head all around, then running her tongue down the shaft. I moan softly when she finally brings it into her mouth, holding her long hair to the side so I can watch.
Lana’s good, but not great. She’s really into it, though, obviously trying her best to impress me. Now that I’m fully erect, she can only get about half of me into her mouth. I decide to help, placing my hand behind her head and gently nudging her forward. She gets the hint and attempts to go further, then starts to gag and pulls back completely for a second. I get an apologetic look that is so adorable I’m compelled to fuck her immediately.
“Let me watch you take those pants off,” I say as I remove my shirt.
Lana is fully committed at this point and doesn’t hesitate, unzipping her black slacks and sliding them down along with her panties. She’s got just the faintest wisp of a landing strip and I can see her lips underneath. I quickly take off my shoes and socks and step out of my pants, then walk her over to the couch, both of us now naked. It’s nice to be with a woman this tall for a change, and when I turn her toward me, my cock impatiently pokes at her pussy.
I push Lana back and she falls on the couch in a seated position, then I drop to my knees and lick that pussy for a while until I’m sure we’re both ready for more. When I stand back up, though, I realize we may have a problem. I almost always have a condom on me, just in case. Not tonight, though. I think quickly, then retrieve my phone and send Russell a text.
When I hang up, I look down at this hot young woman and smile. “We’re good.” She’s reclining against the back of the couch, her legs still spread as I stand between them. I notice her looking at my cock and see there’s a drop of pre-cum on the tip. Lana collects it on her index finger, then casually licks it off.
My moment of ecstasy is interrupted by a knock on the door. I walk towards it and see a condom wrapper sliding into the room through the small gap at the bottom. Then another, then a third. I grab them and take a look. All regular size. I frown, then return to Lana. Standing in front of her, I remove a condom and place it over me, unrolling it to its full length.
It’s almost comical how tight it is, and it comes up an inch short in length as well. I look at Lana and she just shrugs and wraps both hands around my shaft, so I know she’s good to go regardless. It’s not like I’m going to get the entire thing in her anyway.
I’m hard as a rock as I lay this hottie down onto the couch and slide in between her legs. Seconds later, I’m inside and fucking her slowly and steadily. At least I am at first. Lana becomes very enthusiastic, wrapping her legs around me and trying to get me to push in further.
“You like that?” I ask.
Lana answers with a long moan.
I push in further. “How about this?”
“Oh, my god, yes,” she says.
Before long, we’re fucking aggressively. I roll her over onto her stomach and enter her from behind, my hand between her shoulder blades, pushing her against the couch as I pound her tight little pussy. She’s moaning like crazy, but it’s hard to tell whether she’s really getting close to coming or just putting on a show for me. We change again, with me lying on my back and Lana climbing on top, holding my cock as she lowers herself onto it. She rides me for a while as I play with her tits, and when she starts grinding down on me and moaning loudly, I assume she’s coming. I really can’t tell for sure, but it’s fine by me if she’s faking it.
By the time she finally removes the condom and blows me to a satisfying orgasm, we’ve been in the room about forty-five minutes. As my orgasm wanes, I suddenly remember the party at Dante’s. I’m sure everyone will wonder where I ran off to.
“I’ve got to get back to my friends,” I tell Lana.
She looks disappointed but says she understands. We quickly get dressed and leave the club through the back door. As we walk to her car, I notice she’s left her blouse open again for me. Nice.
I give Lana a final kiss and promise to call her, though I doubt I ever will. There was nothing special about our interaction, though—just a fun, quick fuck.
After I leave Lana, I re-enter Dante’s and see only one person there, sweeping the hardwood floor of the restaurant. I get to the purple curtain and push inside to find an empty room, our mess already removed from the table.
A quick check of my phone shows texts from both Link and Mason.
Fuck.
Mason welcomes me into his office. It’s the first time I’ve seen the new place. When he and Claire merged agencies to form Leviathan Talent, they moved into a gleaming eight-story building on Melrose in West Hollywood, taking the top two floors. It’s an impressive space, both inside and out. Mason’s office is much like his previous one, a large corner suite with glass walls looking out over the nearby conference room, which is also glass-walled.
He greets me with a half-scowl and I know I’m about to get twenty-questioned. Sure enough, he starts right in.
“You disappeared last night. Without even saying goodbye, at that.”
I try my best to look sheepish.
“Something came up.”
The look I get in return tells me I’ll need to provide a better excuse.
“More specifically, my dick came up,” I say. “When I locked eyes with that hostess at Dante’s.”
“The tall one with the long hair?”
“Yeah. I only intended on walking her to her car and getting her number, but one thing led to another until I had to fuck her. We walked over to Cosmos and used Russell’s VIP room. I kind of lost track of time once I got her naked.”
“Man, this was Drake and Allie’s wedding announcement. You couldn’t postpone your hookup for a day, or even a couple of hours?”
His disappointment is obvious, and I don’t know what to tell him. There was a time not too long ago when Mason would have fist-bumped me for banging that hostess. I start to argue about him and Drake dropping the ball on the Hollywood Bad Boys Club, but I decide not to go there.
“Yeah, like I said, time got away from me. I’ll call Drake today.”
Mason nods, then says, “Anyway, what do you think of the place?”
“This is the shit. Very impressive. You two are busting out, going big-time.”
He looks pleased with himself. More importantly, he’s moved on from the topic of last night.
“Let me get Claire in here. She’s got something big to talk over with you.”
He punches the intercom and says, “Baby, get in here. We have a visitor.”
Less than a minute later, the door opens and Claire breezes in, looking spectacular. The new relationship and the merger have created a palpable aura of happiness around them.
“Marcus!”
She gives me a big hug. I’ve learned that Claire is really into hugs.
“Where’d you run off to last night?” she demands.
“I’ve already covered that,” Mason says. “I’ll fill you in later.”
I smile at the two of them and the subject is officially dropped. Mason sits behind his desk and Claire and I sit across from him. He reaches into the nearby mini-fridge and throws me a Snapple. I open the bottle and say, “So I’m hoping this big deal is something about my endorsement contract.”
I’m looking at Mason, but he turns to Claire, so I turn as well.
“About that endorsement deal, Marcus… I h
ave good news and bad news.”
This is not a promising start. I take a sip of Snapple and wait for her to continue.
“I’ve been talking to Nike for the last two weeks. I’m good friends with Chance Gainey, their Executive VP of Global Marketing—basically, the guy who gives the thumbs up or down to their A-list celebrity endorsement contracts. As far as the three of us are concerned, Gainey is Nike.”
I nod. “And…?”
“And they’re interested. Kind of.”
I sigh and try to suppress a frown.
She continues. “Here’s the thing: They’re willing to do a mid-size deal right now. One hundred million over ten years.”
I look over at Mason. “That’s it?”
“Hear her out, Marcus.”
I turn back to Claire, my blood pressure starting to rise. These two have the hottest new agency in the country and she knows this Nike VP personally, yet that’s the best deal they can get?
“Gainey says you’re too big a risk. He said you’re well-liked, but he needs well-loved to give you a truly big deal.”
“My fans love me,” I counter. I know I sound defensive, but fuck it.
“According to your Q-Rating, many other fans don’t. And the Q score is the only thing Nike cares about. As of today, you have a rating of three. That’s the same as Ron Koenig.”
“Who the fuck is Ron Koenig?”
“Exactly,” Claire says. “That’s my point. He’s the goalie for the Hartford Whalers NHL team. I hate to say it, Marcus, but right now you’re exactly as marketable as a second-rate hockey player. Too many people dislike you.”
My lips tightly together, I take a big breath through my nose and look out the window at the Hollywood Hills in the distance.
“But I thought of an angle we can play.”
I turn to her again and raise an eyebrow. This could be interesting.
“So here’s my idea: a heavily incentivized endorsement deal.”
“I’ve never heard of an endorsement deal based on incentives,” I say.
“That’s because it’s never been done before.” Claire leans forward, her excitement showing. “As you know, incentivized contracts are common in player contracts between athletes and their teams. Bonuses are paid for making All-Star teams, hitting a certain number of homers, etc.”
Hollywood Bad Boys Club: Book 3: Marcus Page 6
