“Me too.” Lamont leaned around Jasper, agreement over his face, but despite his words, there was laughter in his eyes.
A second fucker.
“Well, what are you waiting for? Get up here!” The emcee pointed to me.
I had a choice, I could run. I could throw Jasper over my shoulder, and we could run.
I looked at him, and though there was truly only apology and regret in his expression, it only served to remind me how happy he’d seemed only moments before. How much he was loving this thing, and how I’d been willing to come to as many of these as he wanted.
We were in the now. That was all we had. I couldn’t give him a future or more conferences, but I could give him this.
And with that thought, I realized how I was going to get through it.
I stood and looked the emcee smack in the face.
“Good God.” She flinched, and actually gripped the edge of the podium. Then she laughed. “Ladies, and gentlemen, for that matter, it appears this is our lucky night.” She glanced back at the cover of the book simply titled The Bodyguard, that had appeared onscreen, then gestured at it with her thumb. “For once, reality is prettier than fiction.” Then her gaze turned back to me. “Get your hot ass up here, you sexy motherfucker.”
Maybe they were trying to prove my wish true, because the screaming made the chandeliers tremble.
I shook my head and waited. Finally, it was quiet enough that I raised my voice. “On one condition.”
“Honey”—the emcee leaned forward slightly—“if you’re willing to match that nearly naked bodyguard on the cover, you can have anything you damn well want, including my firstborn.”
“I get to pick my partner.”
“Oh no you don’t.” Jasper’s knee bashed into my leg as he whispered violently near the vicinity of my ear.
“You got it, Stud.” She made a sweeping gesture. “I guarantee you there’s not one woman in this room that’ll turn you down.”
That gave me pause, and all those old demons, all those foundational beliefs rose up. I’d been out and as proud as I could be for the past seven years. But this was a whole new level.
I looked down at Jasper, who was shaking his head.
I didn’t have to do this to him. To either of us. I could just go get that blonde who’d been up there moments before. She’d love it.
Suddenly Jasper stopped shaking his head and his brows furrowed. And I swore, somehow, he knew.
He stood beside me and took my hand.
There was a moment of complete silence. Utter and complete silence, as the pieces fell into place for the audience.
And then… those chandeliers shook like never before, the prisms sending rainbow fractals dancing over us.
As the crowd whooped and hollered, Jasper leaned into me. “You sure about this?”
“With you?” All the fear fell away, as did the whispers and the demons. “Hell yeah.”
He kissed me—in front of fucking God and everybody, he threw his arms around my neck and kissed me.
I have no clue how long it took for the noise of the crowd to die down. That kiss was my entire world.
Finally we pulled apart, and I turned back to the stage.
“I’m pretty sure you two have already won.”
Wasn’t that the truth.
But suddenly I didn’t want to let it pass. I didn’t know what the next week held, where I’d be in a month or a year, but wherever it was, I’d have this moment.
I turned to the crowd and raised my voice once more. “I’m not a big reader, so I’ve never read a book about a bodyguard. But I watched that Whitney Houston movie. Any of you see that?”
More screaming, though it ended quickly.
Was I going to do this, was I really going to do this?
“Well, good. I bet you all will remember this scene.”
In a swift movement, I turned back to Jasper, bent so my left arm went behind his knee and my right behind his back, then swept him off his feet. Again more cheering, more yelling.
As I rushed him down the aisle toward the stage, as if we were fleeing the paparazzi, Jasper laughed. So hard, so loud—and he was so beautiful.
We were onstage a good solid minute before the room quieted, and I looked back to check out the book cover on the screen. Sure enough, the bodyguard was shirtless, with a gun pointed straight forward in one hand, and his other arm wrapped protectively around the neck and over the torso of a stunning woman with flowing red hair. Some things were just meant to be.
“All right, Whitney.” I winked at Jasper. “Let’s do this.”
I turned toward the crowd and ripped off my shirt.
Seventeen
Jasper
I’d found my tribe. I’d met other bookworms before—part of the joy of owning a bookshop was being surrounded by people who loved books. But attending the California Romance Convention took it to an entirely new level. It was basically one big freak show filled with people exactly like myself. And after a little while, I realized, I was just like my mom. Her escape had been books. Harrison and I had been her world, but novels had been her escape. A gift she’d given to me.
And if all that wasn’t enough, to experience it with Russell by my side, and not simply as my bodyguard but as… I wasn’t sure. Given our circumstances, there weren’t labels that fit. Being with him felt like a boyfriend situation, or a relationship, the beginning of one at least. But it wasn’t. It didn’t matter. It didn’t require a label to be wonderful.
As terrifying as it had been on that stage in front of all those people, it had also simply been fun and ridiculous. And again, wonderful. Russell clearly had stepped out of his comfort zone for me. But somewhere along the line, between him carrying me to the stage and improvising by ripping off my shirt, though not in accordance with the cover we were trying to emulate, he started enjoying himself. We were having fun together. The overload of endorphin-fueled sex in the king-size afterward had been pretty fun as well.
Yeah, I could get used to the whole romance-conference gig.
After a couple of book panels the following morning, as the convention wrapped up with a farewell lunch, the struggle with labels began in my head once more. Seated at one of the huge round banquet tables with Tyler and Lamont on one side, Russell on the other, and a vast array of other booklovers filling in the rest of the space, the role of bodyguard seemed inconsequential once more. Neal’s name hadn’t been brought up once since arriving in San Francisco. I was certain Russell had thought about him, was constantly checking for him, but somewhere along the line, he’d stopped being a priority. And it didn’t even feel dangerous. Neal wasn’t going to show up, not right there. I didn’t know how I knew; I just did. And it felt as if Russell was under the same impression. In Neal’s absence, Russell was just Russell. The man who unknowingly helped me ring in the new, liberating chapter of my life. A man who’d protected me several nights before. The man who was making me laugh, making me feel important, making me ache for things I’d long set aside.
“Tyler and I were talking about your performance last night. That was quite the show.” Lamont lowered his glass of iced tea and grinned. “We were thinking that it could be fun for you two to do a photo shoot with Tyler. I’d love to have you guys on the cover of a book. What do you think? A novel about a cute ginger bookseller and his bodyguard? Could be good.”
Tyler’s grin was more wicked than his husband’s. “We could even do a whole series. I still have connections to the porn community. You guys can make some videos to go along with Lamont’s novel.”
Russell nearly choked. “I think last night is about as wild—”
“You have to do that. You simply have to!” A twentysomething woman with long blonde hair elbowed the woman next to her. “That would be an instant hit, don’t you think, Mom?”
“Completely.” The smaller woman next to her nodded enthusiastically. “Sign me up.”
The other diners nodded and murmured their agreemen
t.
I patted Russell’s knee under the table. “I think all of our work will be behind the camera. Last night was our one foray into stardom.”
“Excuse me, sorry.” Before more suggestions could be made, an older man the size of a fifth-grader squeezed in between Lamont and myself, and plopped a pile of six books on the table. “My goodness, those are heavy.”
Lamont and I turned as one to stare at the little man.
He didn’t bother looking at me; he only had eyes for Lamont. “I’m so sorry to interrupt your lunch, but my plane was delayed yesterday, and I didn’t get in until late this morning. I was afraid I was going to miss you. I came all the way from Topeka just for you to sign these.”
“You’re not interrupting at all.” Lamont offered that sweet, gentle smile of his. “Sorry you had such a hard time getting here, but I’m so glad I didn’t miss the chance to meet you. What did you say your name was?”
“Charlie. Charlie Moore.” He took Lamont’s outstretched hand in pure reverence. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you. I have all your stuff. I read Ginger Peach before I ever knew you were her, or she was you. Whatever.” With his free hand he patted the stack of books. “But these are my favorite.”
Lamont ended the handshake and looked at the pile of books, and his eyebrows popped as if they hadn’t been what he’d expected. “Really? The TBD series is your favorite?”
“Oh, yeah, they’re just so hot. There’s nothing wild like that in Topeka.”
The mother across the table lifted her hand as if she was testifying in church. “I’m with you there, Charlie. I love me some Back Door action.”
Russell nearly choked again and snagged the top book off the stack to look at the cover image of a man, wrapped only in a towel, standing in front of what looked like a Grecian pool. “What are these exactly?”
Even though he’d written them, Lamont blushed as he explained. “The Back Door is a bathhouse I made up. I set the series in Key West. Each book follows a different employee of the bathhouse. They’re just fun reads. Nothing serious.”
Russell cast a quizzical glance at the mom and daughter, who were nodding. “You both read these too?”
The blonde answered, gesturing toward her mom. “She read them first, but knew I’d love them.”
It was all I could do to keep from laughing. In any other environment, such a conversation would feel utterly awkward, and possibly obscene. Somehow, there, it felt completely normal. Although I had a feeling Russell wouldn’t agree with that assessment.
Charlie plucked the book out of Russell’s hands and thrust it toward Lamont. “Would you sign them for me?”
“Of course I will.” Lamont took the book and scooted over, causing a ripple effect around the table. “Here, pull up a chair and join us. Especially considering how hard you had to fight to get here.”
Once more, Tyler leaned around his husband and gave another wicked grin. “You know, Charlie, if you like The Back Door series so much, there’s a bathhouse here in San Francisco called Merman’s Cove. Maybe you should reenact some of your favorite scenes from the books, you know, while you’re away from Topeka.”
Charlie had just gotten situated at the table and flinched so violently that he nearly knocked over my glass. “Goodness no. I love the books, but I just enjoy reading about it. I don’t want to actually do it.” He shuddered.
“Trust me, Charlie.” Tyler winked. “If it’s fun on the page, it’s going to be just as much fun in real life.”
“Maybe for you.” Charlie’s lip curled slightly in clear repulsion. “I don’t know why I’d want to go to a bathhouse. I’m not gay.” He winked over at the blonde. “Not even a little bit.”
The entire table went silent.
Charlie didn’t notice. He pulled another book from the stack and began flipping through it. “In this one, I have a favorite scene. I’d like you to sign that page specifically.”
Russell and I speculated about Charlie as we packed our luggage, checked out, and got into the truck. We’d just pulled out of the hotel parking lot when Russell got oddly silent, then pulled over to the side of the street. “Are you in a hurry to get back to Lavender Shores?”
An instant shot of happiness went through me, hearing the sound of an upcoming adventure in Russell’s tone. “Not at all. What do you have in mind? I can tell you’re thinking something.”
“I am. Been thinking since Charlie showed up at lunch.” He hesitated, seeming oddly nervous. “I have an idea, but I’m not sure how you’ll feel about it.”
If it was with him, I couldn’t imagine not being game. “Okay, let me have it. I bet whatever it is will be fun.”
“Well… I don’t want you to be insulted.”
I couldn’t imagine where he was about to go. “I doubt I will be, but why don’t you just spit it out.”
“Personally, I think it could be really hot.” He licked his lips and leaned a little closer, his left arm resting on the steering wheel. “Have you…” He met my gaze. “Have you ever been to that place Tyler mentioned… Merman’s Cove?”
I laughed. How had I not seen that coming at the mention of Charlie? “I have. It’s been a little while. But yeah, I’ve been there.”
He relaxed a little bit and his voice grew husky. “So that time with me wasn’t your only experience at a bathhouse, just your first?”
“No. It wasn’t my only experience. I’ve been a few times since.” My heart began to race, knowing where he was headed. “Was that your only time at a bathhouse?”
He nodded.
“Oh.” That wasn’t what I’d expected him to say. “You’re probably thinking I’m a big, dirty whore right about now, aren’t you?”
His eyes widened. “No!” Then he laughed. “Just because I haven’t been to another bathhouse doesn’t mean I haven’t done my share of whoring. Like I told you. Over the past seven years, I’ve made up for lost time. I can’t say I quite made up for the first forty, but I’ve given it a good go.”
“Okay. Good.” My little moment of panic passed and let the excitement build again. “That’s good.”
“I was actually wondering”—though his voice was still husky and the desire was clear in his eyes, he suddenly seemed unsure of himself—“do you wanna… I mean, it might be fun… well, shit….”
The man was always hot as hell, but his nervousness was rather adorable. “Do you want to go to the bathhouse together, Russell?”
He shrugged, lips curving. “Thought it might be kinda fun… hot… to relive our first time.”
“I’m betting it’s gonna be more than kinda hot.” I glanced down at the growing bulge in my jeans. “Is that answer enough for you?”
He glanced out the passenger window toward the sidewalk, which was thankfully empty, then reached over and stroked over my stiffness, and gave it a gentle squeeze before leaning back in the driver’s seat so his own bulge was shoved toward the steering wheel. “Looks unanimous to me.”
I pulled out my cell and started getting directions to the bathhouse. “I can promise you this one’s a completely different experience than the Male Box. That place was a little scary.”
He chuckled. “You’re telling me. Turned out pretty great, though.” After checking the side mirror, Russell pulled back out onto the street. I reached over to give him an answering squeeze, and he swatted me away with a dark laugh. “No touching. I’m so revved up at the thought of having you in a place like that again, it’s gonna be a miracle if I don’t shoot my load on the way there.” He cast a playful wink my way. “And I promise, this time I won’t run away after.”
It was a marvel to observe Russell as we walked around the bathhouse, giving ourselves the tour while holding hands. Even that, holding hands, was a rather marvelous experience in and of itself. A surreal, rather innocent, act in a place surrounded by sex.
We stripped, as expected, leaving everything in the lockers except the towels wrapped around our waists and the keys on elastic bands wrapped
around our ankles, the condoms and lube packets tucked into the waist of our towels. Though I’d seen every millimeter of Russell’s naked body multiple times by that point, watching how he moved as we walked highlighted just how sexually primal he was. Just by his pure size, he carried an intimidating aura, but the air around him practically buzzed from his heightened sexual state.
There were many whispered comments and fleeting grasps and strokes as we walked. And while I was aware plenty of people had a ginger kink, I’d never felt overly sexy or attractive. But just for a little bit, I could see the two of us from someone else’s perspective. And I couldn’t blame them for their desire.
We walked through the entire place, so Russell could see it all and we could decide together where to start.
“It really is a completely different kind of thing than the one in Tennessee. It felt so dirty.” Russell paused as we reentered the large center room.
Like the cover of Lamont’s book, it was Grecian in design. A huge marble pool lay at the center, with columns reaching the fifteen-foot ceilings on every corner. The walls were solid frescoed murals of gods, and all forms of male mythical creatures cavorting—fauns, water sprites, centaurs, giants, and fairies, all captured in various forms of copulation. In the center of the pool was a massive golden statue of three mermen, with a fountain shooting out of the large trident in the center and raining down over them. As if inspired by the murals, live human men fornicated in different locations around the room in a wide variety of combinations.
Russell readjusted himself under the towel, which did absolutely nothing to hide his arousal. “This place still feels dirty, obviously.” Those glittering brown eyes made me twitch under my towel when combined with the growing lust in his voice. “But in such a good way.”
“They did a good job with the place. It’s like entering a different world when you walk in here. And even the dark rooms, with their glowing crystals embedded on the wall, feel pretty rather than skeezy.” I motioned toward the pool. “What do you think? You want to get in?”
The Alcove (Lavender Shores Book 7) Page 20
