by Lexi Blake
“Absolutely not.” Kayla strode in, looking nothing like the sweet submissive she’d been fifteen minutes before. She’d changed into slacks, a light sweater, and a scarf that would be perfect for a relatively breezy night on the beach. Of course, he knew why she’d added the scarf and it wasn’t about the slight chill. “You are not going out there.”
He wanted to be back in the playroom, locked in and cozy.
She’d been fucking gorgeous, naked and waiting for his attention. She’d taken the spanking like a champ, like she’d needed it, and the connection that flowed between them had sparked something inside him. He’d wanted her like nothing he’d wanted in a long time, which was precisely why he’d forced her to her knees and made her take him from behind where he could control the encounter.
Where he didn’t have to look into her eyes and truly feel her. The connection had been too much, overwhelming.
“I think I’ll make the decision about whether or not I leave the house, Kayla.” He was well aware his voice had gone positively arctic.
He wanted to walk over and drag her back into his arms and apologize. He wanted to make sure she was all right. He could call in a doctor to take a look at her throat.
Did she even want him to touch her now? Or had he ruined the nice place they’d found?
It was the very fear of the answer to those questions that sent his voice dark and cold.
If it bothered her, she didn’t show it. She merely glanced his way over the glow of her telephone. “Not when there’s a man out there who wants to hurt you. That’s when I get to step in as the voice of common sense. I know. Boring part to play, and yet you pay me to play it. Have you ever seen this man before?”
She turned her screen toward him as the front bell chimed.
“I’ll go let the cops in.” Dec nodded his way before disappearing down the hallway.
“I don’t like being told what to do.” Josh stared at her instead of the picture.
“You also don’t like being put on your belly,” she replied, her tone completely bland. “Do you react the same way on your back?”
He took the phone and stared at the screen, unwilling to go any further down that road with her. He’d revealed enough of himself for one night. There was a man on the ground, his face up toward the camera, but it was obvious the impromptu photo session hadn’t been his idea. Brown hair, glasses, thin lips. There was nothing at all remarkable about the guy, but something stuck in his memory. “He looks vaguely familiar. I might have seen him on a set.” The memory hit him squarely. “Shit. That’s a screenwriter. I don’t remember his name. Allen something. He sent me his script, but I don’t read things that my agent doesn’t send directly.”
“He said something about you stealing his script, according to Shane,” she said.
“Can’t steal something I’ve never read.” This was what he dealt with constantly. Everyone wanted a favor. Everyone wanted a leg up, and when he couldn’t come through they turned on him. He was the monster who kept them down. He was the asshole who’d taken everything but gave nothing back. He’d fucking heard it all.
“Let’s go down and talk to the police,” she said. “Do you want to press charges?”
He felt his jaw tighten. Pressing charges meant he would have to show up in court. Not pressing charges meant the jerk would go on his merry way. “I don’t know. Let’s see what all he did. He’s not the first asshole to throw something at my house. I can’t imagine he’ll be the last.”
She nodded and started to move. He reached out and it hit him suddenly that he was about to go talk to a bunch of cops and all she would have to do is take off the scarf she’d draped around her neck and he would be the one they were taking in.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
She stopped. “I didn’t say you did.”
“No, but I suspect I should pay for it. How much to keep you from explaining the situation to the cops?”
Confusion clouded her expression. “What?”
“Let’s call it a bonus for putting up with my poor behavior. I’ll write you a check. Ten thousand? Fifteen?”
Her face softened and she moved into his space. It took quite a bit for him not to step back. She seemed to understand that he needed space because she suddenly moved to the door. “It wasn’t poor behavior, Joshua. I scarcely think you end sessions with breath play. Besides, that was one thing you were uninterested in.”
Because he didn’t want to hurt anyone that way. “Still, that is how I ended it.”
“Don’t be so dramatic. I triggered you when I put you on the floor. I didn’t know. I reacted because I wasn’t sure what I heard and I always think gunshots, not rocks. I’m sorry. Is it any time you find yourself restrained or only when you’re facing down?”
He didn’t want to talk about this, but her voice was soft, as though she understood. And really, she deserved an explanation. He’d fucked her silly and then tried to kill her. It wasn’t how he’d seen the night going. “I’m okay on my back. I don’t like not being able to see what’s coming at me.”
She nodded. “Okay. I promise I’ll remember that in the future. And don’t insult me like that again. I get that everyone wants a piece of you, but I merely want to do my job and do it well, and that means not allowing you to be killed. It also means not killing you myself. I’ll have to think about it if you can’t stop accusing me of betraying you before I even have a chance to put in a solid day’s work. Can we agree on that?”
He found himself nodding. “Yes.”
“And Josh, I enjoyed myself before then.” Her lips curled up briefly before she was back to business.
Had she? He knew she’d enjoyed the sex, but there had been that moment right before all hell had broken loose when he’d sensed her pulling away from him.
It didn’t matter because she was accepting him for now. He followed her downstairs, willing to try again.
* * * *
Kayla stepped on the stairs, calling out before she turned down the flight that led to the main floor. “Officers, I’m bringing Mr. Hunt with me. I am armed.”
“Come on down,” a deep male voice said. “Mr. Burke explained the situation. Mr. Hunt’s staff already sent over copies of the security teams’ concealed carry licenses. You’re all up to date paperwork wise.”
She stepped down, fairly secure they weren’t going to shoot her. “He’s very organized since I just got in this afternoon. Thank you for coming out, Officers.”
They introduced themselves as Officer Hernandez and Officer Keller, two big, fit men who obviously had a couple of years’ worth of experience under their belts.
“No problem,” Hernandez said. “Mr. Hunt is a valued member of our community. He’s also the most likely member of our community to get harassed. We’ve been telling him to bring in private security for years. Looks like it already paid off. You okay, Josh?”
Josh moved from behind her, gesturing to the big living room. “I’m fine. Please come in. It’s nothing more than another crazy. I’m sorry you had to come out to deal with it.”
“Nah, it’s cool,” Keller said. “We go off shift after this. You want us to take him in? I’m a little worried about this one. When we came in, he was spouting some crazy shit, and you know the press will be all over it. I might be able to put him on a psych hold. No press allowed there. I happen to know all the beds are full here, so we can ship him downtown.”
She glanced over to see what Josh would do. A seventy-two-hour hold would make anyone think, especially when it wouldn’t be somewhere nice and high-end. It would be nasty and dark. It could be a nice punishment for a man interested in such things.
“I would like to talk to him first,” Josh said, his face grim. “Let’s see if we can settle this without wrecking his life.”
The officers shook their heads like they’d known what was going to happen, and then Hernandez nodded toward Declan. “Bring him in.”
Kayla sat down on the couch beside him. �
��Do you think talking to him is a good idea? If he’s a stalker, then you’re rewarding his behavior. You’re giving him attention, and that’s what he wants.”
“I know the psychology behind a stalker,” he replied. He’d relaxed, but she would bet it was all an act for the cops’ sakes. So calm and peaceful when only moments before she would have sworn he’d been on the edge.
“Yeah, you did that film,” Hernandez said, slapping his buddy’s arm. “What was it? The one you liked so much?”
“Deep Midnight,” Keller replied with a nod her way. “Josh there played a psychologist who specialized in serial killers. His character was working with the local PD on a series of murders, but it turns out he actually had a split personality and he was responsible for all the killings himself.”
“Hey, spoilers,” Josh said with a grin.
She waved it off. “I saw that one. I still don’t see how that makes you an expert in stalking.”
“I took three months and sank myself into the profiling world,” he explained. “I actually have enough classroom time to qualify for a BA in psych, if I wanted one. I learn everything I can about a role. It’s important for me to get as much as I can right.”
“He’s a fucking Renaissance man,” Keller said. “I swear, he knows more about police procedure than I do.”
“That’s ’cause you’re lazy as fuck,” Hernandez replied. “But seriously, Josh is a genius.”
And it looked like he wasn’t as much of a recluse as she’d pegged him for. The officers seemed friendly with him.
“I still don’t see how that makes you an expert,” she pointed out as she heard the door open.
“I have been stalked over the years by numerous people, some amateur, but a couple of real pros. This guy…he’s not stalking me. He’s pissed at me and I would like to know what set him off.” Josh relaxed back as though this was an everyday occurrence.
Perhaps it was and that was why she was here.
Shane and Dec came into the house. Shane still had the man by the elbow, but his gun was back in its holster. The man he’d caught shuffled along. The bottom half of his slacks were wet, as though he’d been in the surf, which he likely had at this time of night.
The man’s head came up and he practically snarled Josh’s way. “You fucking cheating bastard.”
And there was the stench of vodka and regret. Or maybe it was whiskey. She wasn’t close enough to tell, but the regret was certainly going to be in there tomorrow. Their suspect was definitely over the legal limit.
“Allen. It’s Allen, right?” Josh stood up, his whole demeanor calm and patient.
That seemed to catch the guy off guard, but he straightened up, his face flushing with anger. “Yeah, I’m Allen. You know exactly who I am. Allen Houston. I’m the man who’s going to sue you. If you think for a second I’ll let you get away with this, you don’t know who you’re dealing with.” He turned his eyes up to the officer to his right. “He’s the thief. I want you to arrest him.”
“Sure, buddy,” Keller said. “What exactly did he steal? Your sobriety?”
That got Hernandez to chuckle.
Allen’s hands made fists at his sides and Kay prepared to take him down if she had to. “My story. He stole my story. I was at a bar earlier tonight in LA and I overheard this guy talking about Joshua Hunt’s brand-new movie. Did you think I wouldn’t find out? I’m going to sue you, you ass. You can’t get away with this. I can’t let you.”
Josh gave Allen his full attention. “Which movie are you talking about? I have three in various stages of pre-production.”
“You know which one I’m talking about because I gave you the script,” Allen ground out. He started to pace, but Shane got in his way and he was forced to stand, fairly vibrating with rage. “I was stupid and handed it over to you. I should have known someone like you would steal it and put his own name on it.”
Josh shook his head. “There’s not a single movie I’m working on where I take script credit.”
The writer waved him off as though he’d expected an excuse like that. “So you gave it to one of your buddies.”
“Please tell me what the movie’s about,” Josh requested quietly. “I don’t know because I never read your script. I don’t read scripts my agent doesn’t put in my hand. I certainly don’t read unsolicited scripts.”
“Then what do you do with them?”
“I would have thrown it out,” Josh said, not unkindly. “I can’t take the chance that I would read it and have any piece of it show up in something I do down the line and have you come back to sue me. That’s how I’ve worked for a long time. So you’ll have to tell me which of the films I’m working is similar.”
Allen stared at Josh intently. “You’re a liar. I talked to someone who knows you.”
She would hand it to Josh. He could handle scrutiny. She knew a lot of people who would have put some distance between them by this point, but Josh was cool and calm.
“A lot of people claim to know me,” he replied.
Allen pointed his way. “He said you were working on a film about a dad and his son who ride the rails during the Great Depression. That was my film. My film about my father and grandfather.”
There was some actor in the writer. At least some definite dramatic tendencies. He was playing out the scene with theatrical flair while Josh kept everything quiet.
Josh shook his head. “Allen, I don’t have anything historical in the works. I’ve got a big-budget sci-fi thriller, a romantic comedy, and the sequel to The Quick and the Enraged. I have no plans to work on anything like what you’ve described. I haven’t heard anything about a project like that and I know pretty much what’s happening everywhere. Whomever you were talking to lied to you.”
Allen stopped, seeming to deflate all at once. “But why? Why would he lie?”
“He was probably a troll. A real-life troll,” Josh replied. “I bet you were halfway drunk and mentioned something about it to him and he took the pass and played it until you were ready to hurt someone. Hell, maybe he knows me. Maybe he hates me and thought he could use you to hurt me. I don’t know. Did you get his name?”
Allen put a hand on his head like he was trying to wipe away some memory or invisible pain. “Yeah. Bob Black. That’s what he called himself. He bought me a beer. Three really. He said he worked with you.”
“I don’t recall the name,” Josh replied. “But then on a film set I can work with hundreds of people.”
But Kay knew the name. She looked up and Shane was frowning while Dec discreetly rolled his eyes. Was it a coincidence? Black was the name almost all CIA assholes used when they were undercover. The question was which of her CIA assholes had sent a bomb into her midst on her very first night on the job.
Of course if she asked, they would likely lie. The good news was she had skills, and figuring out if her CIA guys were already messing with her would be fairly easy.
“What bar were you at?” Kay asked.
Allen seemed to realize he wasn’t alone with the cops and Josh. He cleared his throat and his eyes wouldn’t meet hers. “I was in Santa Monica. It’s a place called Dirk’s close to my apartment. I go there a couple times a week. I sometimes like to write there.” He looked back at Josh. “You’re really not making my movie?”
There was a tinge of perverse sorrow to the question that Josh seemed to respond to. “I’m not. But you should send the script to my agent. It sounds interesting and I’m always looking for something fresh. If she reads it and thinks it’s good, she’ll either send it on to me or to someone who can give you some tips. I’ll let her know to look for it.”
Tears rolled down the guy’s flushed cheeks. “Why would you do that for me?”
“Because I know what it means to be desperate, too. Because I know how it feels to be used against someone else,” Josh replied.
“Because he’s way too soft,” Keller said with a sigh. “Come on. We’ll get you back to your apartment. You’re so fuck
ing lucky. Pitt would have had your ass thrown in jail.”
“Did this Bob Black person drive you out here?” Kayla asked as the cops were turning the man back toward the door.
Allen nodded, seeming to sober a bit. “Yeah. I didn’t drive myself. That was lucky, I guess. He dropped me off at the public access. Didn’t get out of the car, but he pointed the way. Didn’t tell me how high the tide was already. Asshole.”
“It’s okay, Allen. We’ve all been there.” Joshua held a hand out.
Allen shook it. “You’re an amazing man, Mr. Hunt. I’m sorry I said otherwise.”
“All right, let’s get this show going,” Keller said. “Hernandez, do we have guests?”
Hernandez was already at the front door. “You know the bastards listen in on the radio. I count two news trucks and three indie vultures. Let’s get this over with. What do you want me to say, Josh?”
“There’s press out there?” How had they gotten here so fast?
Josh was staring at the door as though imagining what was behind it. “They’re always close by, always waiting. The word vulture is suitable since they circle overhead constantly.”
Dec sighed. “I’ll take door duty.”
“Say it was all an accident,” Josh told the cops. “Mr. Houston was walking on the beach and didn’t understand the tide was coming in. When he tried to avoid it, he tripped my alarm. Everything is fine and you’re giving him a ride home.”
She saw flashes as the door opened and there were at least ten people standing in the tiny front yard. The cops pushed their way through.
“Hey, move those trucks,” Hernandez yelled. “Move them or I’ll have them moved for you.”
“He’s so nice,” Allen was saying to one of the reporters. “Joshua Hunt is a great guy.”
Shane sighed as the door closed. “Well, that was smart as hell. The man won’t say a word against you now and the reporters won’t have a story beyond Joshua Hunt helps out lost man.”
