Kink Aware (Kiss of Leather Book 9)
Page 20
Bryan attempted to swallow, his throat uncharacteristically dry. He took a quick sip of water right as Aubrey neared and wished with all his might he could see Aubrey’s expression behind the dark shades. Bryan rose and extended his hand once Aubrey stood before him. Aubrey paused, appearing to consider Bryan’s offer before clasping it with both of his own hands. Aubrey squeezed him gently one time then let go. Bryan’s throat was still as dry as ever and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to croak anything out.
“Mr. King, thank you for the opportunity to meet with you today.”
His voice had only cracked in the slightest, and he was able to sit down without knocking anything over or missing his chair entirely and landing on the ground. He had interviewed some of the biggest names in the industry and had even been invited to attend a special dinner party at the White House. Yet nothing in his travels or experiences compared to the thrill of meeting Aubrey King for lunch at a small café in Hollywood.
Once they were both seated, Aubrey relaxed into the cabana-style wicker chair. He draped his arms loosely over the rests, his legs crossed at the ankles of his leather, pointed-toe boots as he eased back, his body angled slightly toward the aisle.
“Please, Bryan, I feel enough out of touch with the scene as it is. Call me Aubrey. And I appreciate you agreeing to meet with me on such short notice. Your flight in from New York was comfortable?”
Oh, my fucking God. I’m having an actual conversation with Aubrey Fucking King. This is so insane.
It was too bad he didn’t know anyone—not even his agent—who could fully and completely appreciate the enormity of the moment and how it affected him personally.
“Very comfortable, thank you.” He cleared his throat. “Aubrey.”
Aubrey pushed his glasses onto the top of his head and Bryan was met with his intense stare. The one Bryan had been mesmerized by for countless years whether on a CD cover, during a concert or when watching a video. He could picture those sea-green eyes in his sleep and now he was gazing into them in person.
“You look exactly like your photo.” Aubrey raised one eyebrow. “Bryan.”
Bryan blinked a few times. Was that purposeful, is he mocking me? He shifted in his seat. God, don’t fuck this up whatever you do. Don’t be weird.
Bryan did something he never did. Typically, he was relentless and purposeful when it came to an interview. No star could get the best of him. He always made it known by his body language alone he wasn’t intimidated by their status. However, Aubrey wasn’t simply an interview. He was everything, as far as Bryan was concerned.
Bryan shifted in his seat, clearing his throat as he attempted to gather his thoughts. He clasped his hands tightly together and placed them on the table in front of him in a futile effort to keep still. Aubrey’s gaze flitted down at his clasped fingers then darted back up to catch Bryan’s eyes. The slightest quirk at the corner of his mouth indicated to Bryan that Aubrey knew he was nervous.
“This café is a bit too crowded today, don’t you think, Bryan?”
Aubrey tilted his head to one side and propped his chin on the heel of his palm. The simple gesture had Bryan hypnotized.
This is fucking ridiculous. I’ve been instantly transformed into a giddy teenager. What the hell?
“Um, it is a bit noisy. Is there somewhere else you would prefer to take our meeting?”
“Have you eaten yet?”
What? “No. I came straight from the airport. I was concerned I would be late, so I didn’t take the time to get anything.”
“And you didn’t order because you were waiting for me?”
Bryan frowned. “Of course.”
“What if you’d been waiting for someone other than me? For instance, your agent or a girlfriend or one of your buddies?”
Still perplexed, Bryan went with the inquiry as it somehow seemed important to Aubrey. “I still wouldn’t have ordered. That would be incredibly rude, no matter who I was waiting for.”
For the first time ever, it appeared to Bryan that he was the one being interviewed. He needed to snatch back the control.
Aubrey scraped his teeth over one side of his bottom lip. The action was yet another thing Bryan had seen him do over the years. Aubrey continued to eye Bryan, an expression forming across his features that seemed to indicate he was pleased about things between them. He wanted the assignment with Aubrey so badly that he hoped he wasn’t reading satisfaction into their exchange out of sheer hope.
“Let’s get the hell out of here,” Aubrey said as he was standing.
Bryan quickly rose to his feet, reaching into the back pocket of his jeans to pull out his wallet so he could drop a tip on the table. Before he’d had the chance to remove it, Aubrey had tossed down a hundred-dollar bill and was in full stride, leaving the eatery. Bryan picked up his pace to go after him, replaying in his mind all the Aubrey King trivia he’d gathered over the years. Now, he had the extraordinary chance to experience a myriad of private moments with his idol from the mundane to the spectacular.
By the time Bryan reached Aubrey at the valet stand, he’d decided he needed to get his journalist hat firmly back in place. Aubrey whipped his head around and the singer locked his gaze with Bryan’s once more. It was that look. That stare. It penetrated him, laid him bare. He’d rhapsodized to others over the years how it elevated Aubrey above other rock idols. No one could convey their soul the way he did.
“Are you hesitant to come with me, Bryan?”
He attempted to maintain an even, unrevealing tone. Instead, the first part of his response was similar to a strangled squeak.
“Of course not.” He cleared his throat again. “I’m more than happy to come with you.”
Fuck. Walked right into that one.
Aubrey grinned a wicked little grin and Bryan’s journalist hat was missing altogether.
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About the Author
Morticia Knight spends most of her nights writing about men loving men forever after.
If there happens to be some friendly bondage or floggings involved, she doesn’t begrudge her characters whatever their filthy little heart’s desire. Even though she’s been crafting her naughty tales for more years than she’d like to share—her adventures as a published author began in 2011.
Once upon a time she was the lead singer in an indie rock band that toured the West Coast and charted on U.S. college radio. She currently resides on the northern Oregon coast and when she’s not fantasizing about hot men she takes walks along the ocean and annoys the local Karaoke bar patrons.
Morticia loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website details and author profile page at https://www.pride-publishing.com