Hooker (L.A. Liaisons Book 2)

by Brooke Blaine

  With those words, I grabbed a fistful of his dark hair and buried my face in his neck as my orgasm violently burst and shuddered through me. His fingers tightened on my skin when he realized what was happening, but he didn’t stop moving or pull away.

  Where the hell did that come from? Did I really just… On his… Oh my God.

  As I came down from the high and loosened my grip on his arms, he slowed our pace down and moved the hand under my skirt up my back to hold me still while I struggled to get my breathing back to a normal tempo.

  “Holy shit.” He leaned back, his eyes wide on mine. “Hottest fucking thing…” he started, but then his hand went to the back of my neck, and he brought my lips to his.

  He tasted even better than I’d imagined. Not that I’d imagined it…much.

  Okay, maybe somewhere deep in my subconscious I had, and hell…he did not disappoint. As he swayed us to the music, his mouth stayed hungry on mine, his tongue a caress I wanted over my entire body.

  I didn’t care that I was kissing him on the dance floor like other couples I’d made fun of before. I didn’t care—and I should’ve—that I’d just had an earth-shattering orgasm in the middle of a crowded room where anyone could see. And I certainly didn’t care to pull away from him when I heard familiar voices around us.

  I heard Quinn’s wolf whistle and then, “Well, I’ll be damned. Don’t stop on our account.”

  “I think she’s trying to give Paige a run for her money,” Ryleigh said.

  “Who’s giving me a run for my— Holy shit, Shayne. I’m so proud. Someone give her the room key.”

  As Paige’s voice rang out behind me, I pulled away, but even as I turned, Nate’s hands on my hips positioned me directly in front of him.

  Oh…okay, that’s hot.

  The girls broke into slow claps when I faced them, which normally would’ve embarrassed the hell out of me, so what I did next was way out of character.

  I curtsied. Fucking curtsied.

  “Thank you, thank you,” I said.

  “Next showing in an hour,” Nate said from behind me.

  Paige fanned herself. “Hot damn, I’d like to see that, but our girl here is a shy one. So how about you two take the key and get the hell outta here?”

  “What? I’m not leaving you on your birthday,” I said, stepping forward and lowering my voice so Nate couldn’t hear me. But Paige wasn’t having it.

  “Oh yes you are. Your birthday gift to me is to take sexy Mr. Suspenders upstairs before he combusts. In fact, I demand it.” She winked and then handed me the key card Ryleigh pulled out of her clutch. “Just make sure it happens on your bed, not mine.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Well, Aren’t You a Right Bastard

  ONCE WE’D LEFT the heated confines of the club and headed back to my room, it wasn’t reality that set in. Nope, it was the buzz that had my skin tingling and my mind solely focused on Nate and starting round two of what had begun on the dance floor.

  Amazing that alcohol could do a one-eighty on your brain.

  When we reached my room, I ran my hands up and down his suspenders. It was a shame those would have to come off. “So…do you want to come in?”

  Not like he was going to say no, but I figured I’d ask anyway because I wanted to hear him say yes. The girls were heading to another club and we had at least a couple of hours to be alone, so I wasn’t about to waste time getting a repeat of what had happened only a short while ago.

  While I wasn’t big on the one-night stand circuit, especially not lately, I wasn’t one to shy away from enjoying myself. And right now, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d wanted to be with someone so much. Who would’ve thought hours ago that this was the way things would turn out…

  Nate’s lips brushed my throat in a kiss before he gently pushed my shoulders away and looked me in the eye. Through the haze of my alcohol-induced state, it took me a minute to work out what the expression on his face was. There was longing, there was lust, and there was…regret.

  Wait—regret? That can’t be right.

  I squinted at him again and tried to figure out what else that look could mean. Nope…still there. An icy chill spread through my veins at what that look said was coming.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them.

  “Shayne—”

  “No,” I said, pushing away from him. I looked him up and down, trying to find some clue of what I’d missed, what signal I’d misread. His hands stayed by his sides and he didn’t attempt to move toward me to tell me I was wrong. The blood pounded in my head, the alcohol adding fuel to the anger and hurt and embarrassment all fighting for dominance. How the hell did I get this so wrong?

  “It’s not you—”

  I scoffed. “Don’t. Do not give me the rest of that sentence. Was this some kind of game for you?” Then the realization hit me all at once, and I could barely make out my next words. “A dare… Was this a dare?”

  “Christ, Shayne, of course not.” He gripped the back of his neck as his eyes pleaded with mine for understanding. “I like you.”

  Seconds passed by as I waited for the rest of the ball to drop.

  “And…?”

  “And I’m not an idiot. We’ve both been drinking. I know you’d probably wake up tomorrow hating my guts again or picking a fight, and I’m not about to take advantage of the fact that you like me right now just to have one night with you.”

  “Nope, ‘like’ is not a word I’d use to describe how I feel about you.”

  He dropped his hand. “I’d like to see you again.”

  “And I’d like a Mack truck to run your ass over, but we can’t all get what we want.”

  Nate took a step toward me, and I took two steps back.

  “Don’t do this. We had a good night tonight.”

  “‘Had,’ past tense, and now it’s over. Good night, Nate.” I turned and reached into my bra to pull out the key card, but pulled out a Post-it note reminding me of what time to meet Ace instead. Where the hell was the key card…

  I felt around in my bra, but it wasn’t in there. Did it fall out? Still stuck in my dress? Damn B-cups… Ah, screw it. Tugging at the hem of my dress, I wiggle-danced until the dumb card dropped onto the floor.

  Nate laughed. “Wait, can you do that again? I forgot to take a video.” He pulled his cell out of his pocket and a light flashed on my face. “Okay, now again, but in slow motion.”

  “How about I slow-motion-slap you instead?”

  “On the ass? Kinky.”

  “Oh shut up,” I grumbled, and pushed the door open. My heels had me teetering—well, that and tequila—and I grabbed on to the frame before I fell over. After kicking my shoes into the room, I turned to slam the door in his stupid, arrogant face, but then his hand shot out against the handle and stopped me.

  He got a glare for that. A big screw you and your big penis one.

  “Let go,” I said.

  “Not until you agree to go out with me when we get back to L.A.”

  A rumble of hysterical laughter forced its way up my throat. So much so that I had to bend over to catch my breath.

  Everyone check out the balls on this wanker.

  “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. ‘Hey, I know I led you on all night and when it came down to business couldn’t follow through, but would you like to go to the Cheesecake Factory sometime so I can do it again?’” My eyes narrowed to slits. “Do I have ‘gullible dumbass’ written all over my forehead? Because that’s the only way I’d ever say yes to you again.”

  I attempted to shut the door again, and he blocked it.

  “You know,” he said, running his hand through his hair, “I think you like to test my patience. And it’s something of a game to you, so that’s fine, but let’s make things clear. First, you’ve never been a dare. I pursue you because I want to even when you make me crazy by spouting off mouthy shit I know you don’t mean. Call
me crazy, but it turns me on. And I really enjoy the way your forehead wrinkles up like that when you look at me like I’ve grown two heads.” He looked down at the front of his pants and then grinned. “Well, I’m not far off on that one.”

  “Such a comedian. And my forehead doesn’t have wrinkles,” I said, reaching up to check.

  “Shayne.”

  “Yes, asshole?”

  “Can I finish?”

  I raised an eyebrow but kept my mouth shut.

  “Second, I like you enough that I don’t want to be a one-night stand you can’t remember.”

  I opened my mouth to retort, but he put his finger on my lips.

  “You know I’m right about that. And I’ll be honest, I know how much I’ve had to drink, and I’d like to remember the way you look under that dress the first time I get to see.” His eyes trailed down my body, a look of appreciation in his eyes that I had to admit was mildly satisfying. But I kept my expression firmly in the annoyed zone. I think. It was feeling a bit numb, so hopefully it was cooperating.

  “And second,” he said, lifting his eyes to mine.

  “You already said second.”

  He growled. “Fine. Third.”

  I nodded for him to continue, and he shook his head.

  “Okay, third—trust me when I say you won’t get away from me next time.”

  “Awfully presumptuous of you to assume there would be a next time,” I said. “Don’t the dorms close early?”

  His fingers found their way into my hair, and he pulled my face close so I could feel his warm breath whisper across my lips.

  “Please,” I thought I heard him say softly. Unlike my stubborn mind, my body was quick to respond to his touch, and as my eyes closed, my lips parted. He brushed his mouth across mine once, twice, light brush strokes that set me on fire. Damn him.

  “Say yes.”

  I kept quiet instead before moving forward for full contact. His grip on my hair tightened, and my eyes fluttered open.

  “Shayne.” His voice turned stern, demanding.

  “So bossy for a twenty-four-year-old,” I murmured.

  “Almost twenty-five.”

  I sighed in resignation, and a wide grin took over his face.

  “Good…that’s good.” He leaned and crushed his mouth against mine, and the irritation I’d felt at his rebuff seeped out of my pores until I could think of nothing but how perfectly his lips moved with mine.

  Too soon it was over, and he was letting me go before we could build back up to tear all the clothes off mode.

  His thumb brushed gently over my forehead. “Well, would you look at that.”

  “What?”

  “It actually does say ‘gullible dumbass.’” He pressed a quick kiss between my brows and chuckled before moving out of the way of my slap. “I’ll see you soon, beautiful.”

  I stuck my head out the door and scowled at him. “Will that be before or after your trip to hell?”

  He was still laughing as he faced me and walked backward down the hall. When he blew me a kiss, I extended my middle finger, kissed it, and returned his sweet gesture. Then I shut the door before he could see me crack a smile.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Hot Diggity Dog

  “GET IN HERE, ya little cocktease,” was the yell that greeted me from down the hall just as I’d sat down at my desk Monday morning. Everyone’s heads swiveled my way, and I had to hold back an eye roll at the realization they must’ve all heard I had a meeting with Ace during my time off.

  Nothing was sacred in this place.

  As I closed in on Val’s office, the sound of something being thrown to the ground made me jump. Then several somethings.

  Peering through her cracked door, I saw Val flinging large coffee table books off the shelves that lined the left wall of her office. There was a pile in the center of the room that was already littered with books and magazines, and it looked like if she continued on the warpath, the rack of designer shoes that had been sent over was gonna get it next.

  “Leave the books alone and no one gets hurt,” I said, walking into the room cautiously with both hands raised, palms out.

  “So did you seal the deal?” Val asked, not bothering to look my way. Instead, she flipped open the cover of a hardback, eyed it with disgust, and then tossed it onto the floor pile. “Eight inches? Nine?”

  I ignored her assumption that I’d slept with a potential client and focused on the bigger problem. Books. On the floor. “Can I ask why the sudden aversion to reading?”

  “Spring cleaning,” she muttered, and then her eyes zeroed in on mine. “What, only seven inches? Six and a half? Really, why aren’t you bursting to share?”

  Only my boss would think my sex life was any of her business. Well, I thought when Nate sprang to mind, lack thereof, anyway.

  “I didn’t sleep with Ace Locke.”

  “Bah, of course not. I forgot your pussy is closed for business.”

  “It’s not—” I sputtered. “I just don’t sleep with clients or people I work with. That should be a good thing.”

  “You’re a pitiful excuse for a matchmaker, you know that? How can you possibly put people together when you wouldn’t know a cock if it slapped you in the face?”

  Ew. “That’s not…really…my thing.”

  Val’s hands stilled on a copy of Humans of New York, and her eyes narrowed to slits. “Do you mean to tell me I hired a carpet muncher?”

  “What? No.” I rubbed my already throbbing forehead. “Look, Val, I’m not a lesbian, and even if I were, you would’ve still hired me because I am a great matchmaker. Besides, you can’t go around saying that term. It’s offensive.”

  “Well, I suppose with the invention of laser hair removal, the carpet part of that statement is a bit outdated.” Val’s lips pursed as she perused the hardback before slamming it shut and dropping it on the floor.

  Cringing at the abuse going on, I knelt down and gathered the books into a neat pile. I didn’t know what had set her off this morning, but it was clear I needed to rescue the victims of her wrath.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “Since you don’t want them, I’ll find a good home—”

  “Don’t bother. It’s trash. Trash, trash, trash, trash, trash,” she said, rounding her desk and then flopping on the white-cushioned monstrosity behind it. After taking out a prescription bottle from the top drawer, she shook a few pills into her hand and tossed them back with a diet soda chaser.

  At least I thought it was diet soda. No telling with her.

  “Are you going to stand there and stare at me, or do you plan on telling me some time this century how the date went with Ace?”

  “The meeting went well… He’s a nice guy, and I think he really does want to meet someone to settle do—”

  Snoring from behind the desk cut me off. Then Val shook herself awake.

  “All I heard was blah blah nice guy blah. Ace is not a nice guy. He’s a multimillionaire box-office action star who fucks anything blond and on two legs, and he’ll do wonders for getting our name out there. So tell me you’ve got a list of women who fit the bill.”

  “I don’t think that’s what he’s after exactly…”

  Val’s heavily mascara’d eyes blinked at me. “And just what the hell does that mean, Shayne?”

  “It means I don’t think one of his usual model types is what he wants.”

  “Fuck me, this sounds like gibberish.” Val swallowed another couple of pills, without a chaser this time. “Why do I have a feeling you’re gonna tell me he wants a nice, sensible girl like yourself? Hmm? Do you have a golden pussy I don’t know about after all?”

  “Why does everyone keep saying that?” I said, throwing my hands up. “There’s nothing golden down there, only cobwebs, like you said.”

  “That’s an easily remedied problem. Remind me to get you an appointment with Raphael.”

  The woman’s attention span was all over the place.


  “I don’t need your masseuse, Val.”

  “He’s a helluva lot more than that. He always gives a happy—”

  “Oh my God.” With my hands on my hips, I craned my neck back and forced myself to remember why I’d come in here in the first place. Oh right. Ace. “The thing is…Ace is definitely interested in working with us, but it’s a bit more complicated than he made it out to be.”

  “Complicated how?”

  “Obviously this stays here, but I think he’s looking for something of the…male variety. In private.”

  “Did you say male?”

  “I did.”

  The only show of surprise on her Botoxed face was the slight arch of a perfectly drawn eyebrow. Then her chair rocked back and her red nails drummed across her desk. She stared me down for so long that I felt a bead of sweat fall down my back. I was used to mouthy Val yelling obscenities, so this mute version had me squirming.

  When she finally stopped rocking in her chair, she spoke. “You’re telling me Ace Locke prefers hot dogs to tuna.”

  My nose wrinkled, but I didn’t bother correcting her or we’d be off on another tangent. “Yes, that’s what I’m saying.”

  “And he wants it in private, you say. As in no publicity? That’s not part of the arrangement.”

  “There’s a bit more to it than that. We weren’t able to get into specifics, but my guess is he’s looking for…um…a cover of sorts.”

  “A beard, Shayne, you can say it.”

  On an exhale, I nodded. “Yes, a beard.”

  After another swig of her drink, she leaned back in her chair again, crossing and uncrossing her legs. Her gaze moved behind me to the mess she’d created. When I cleared my throat after what felt like several long minutes, she held up a finger.

  Not that finger.

  “Here’s what we do,” she said slowly. “You’ll start going through the database and pulling potentials. I’m thinking at least high C-list. It worked for Katie Holmes, so let’s get someone on one of those Netflix shows. What’s hot right now?” She didn’t pause for an answer before picking up her phone. “I’ll call and set up a meeting with him this week—”