“I was just genuinely curious,” I answer his question without actually answering it and shrug. “Okay, that would be great. Thanks for the insight. I’m going to ask Talia how she interpreted the report and if she ever learned what the actual diagnosis was.”
He eyes me for a second, then nods. “Let me know once you talk to her. I’ll be sure to convey what my colleague says.”
My phone buzzes several times in a row with alerts from the new social media app I installed. A couple of big name bloggers have started a live stream from Alana’s event and one of their posts stands out. I narrow my gaze on the picture of Calder standing next to a beaming Alana and the headline below it.
“Calder Blake attends Alana’s event sans fiancée. Are the ‘trouble in paradise’ rumors true?”
Someone immediately comments on the blogger’s post.
Alana’s single. Maybe he’s rekindling an old flame!
Ben looks at my screen and frowns. “Didn’t the paper say that Calder used to date her?”
“Controversy always attracts more followers.” Pressing my lips together, I watch the gossip thread grow like weeds, then look up to see Ben watching me with sympathy in his gaze. “Can you do me one more favor?”
He flashes a grin. “Anything for my ex-fiancée.”
“You can’t ever say that in public or it’ll be taken as actual fact.” I snort and shake my head. “Since you’ll be heading into town to go home, can you drop me off in SoHo?”
His smile darkens with devilish intent. “Let’s confuse the hell out of these media reporting hacks. I’ll escort you into the event.”
My gaze widens at the long line waiting outside the club the moment we turn the corner and walk along the cobblestone street in SoHo. According to the article I read on the way over, Alana’s publishing team rented out the entire club for two hours for a private book signing where celebrities and industry types had been invited to celebrate her InkArt tattoo book hitting the USA Today list. Later the club would open to the general public for a chance to get Alana’s InkArt swag and meet the author herself.
“That’s a hell of a line,” Ben mumbles.
The vibe around The Climb is buzzing with excitement. While navigating the cobblestones in my mile high heels, I feel suddenly self-conscious, so I absently adjust my slinky black dress’s halter style around my neck. With a plunging neckline merging into a v-shaped, silver-beaded appliqué at my waistline, the dress’s soft silk clings to my breasts and flows around my thighs with the perfect softness to keep the look chic, yet classy. Still, maybe I should’ve worn a dress that fell below my knees rather than a couple inches above them.
As I try to smooth down my skirt, I stumble slightly, and Ben instantly clasps my elbow to keep me from face planting on the uneven stonework, concern in his dark gaze. “Are you feeling alright, Cass?”
I nod. “I’m fine, just wondering if this was the best dress for tonight.”
“You look gorgeous.”
I smile my thanks and exhale my relief when we’re almost at the door. “The media must be inside covering the event,” I say under my breath, glad it looks like we’ll be able to slip in undetected. No one is paying us any attention. The crowd is too busy craning their necks with their cell phones at the ready, hoping to capture any famous people who might enter or leave the club.
Just as we reach the area where two bouncers are standing behind a velvet cord, a blonde in line turns her video camera on us, a curious look on her face. “Hey, look. It’s Cass Rockwell.” She tilts her head, eyeing Ben. “Who’s the mystery guy?”
As dozens of cell phones swivel in our direction, flashing rapidly, Ben mumbles, “The media are always everywhere.”
I turn and speak to the tall bouncer with curly dark hair. “I’m Cass Rockwell. I’m on the list.”
He nods and the other bouncer opens the velvet rope, but puts a hand on Ben’s chest as he tries to follow me through. “Her name’s the only one on the list,” he rumbles.
“I’m her security guard. She doesn’t go anywhere without me,” Ben says in a stern tone.
The guy starts to argue, but Ben pulls a BLACK Security business card from his suit pocket and hands it to him. “Let me pass or she can’t enter.”
I nod to the security guy to let Ben follow me in, then whisper to Ben right before we walk inside, “Who knew that Doctor Ben could be so badass?”
“I have many layers you’ve never seen, Cass.” With that cryptic comment, he clasps my elbow and escorts me inside.
When we first walk in, I scan the crowd and instantly recognize a few of my model clients among the guests. Tonight would’ve been a good night to network if I wasn’t so wound up, but I’m only here for one person. I scan for Calder and instantly notice Alana in a fitted floor length red dress with a thigh-high slit as she steps on a raised stage on the right side of the room with a microphone in her hand.
It’s not like I can miss her with a zoomed in image of her being shown on two massive screens in either corner of the room. Her dark hair almost brushes her shoulders and is parted in the middle, making her kohl-rimmed eyes look massive above bold red pouty lips. The place is packed and many ladies are hooting and whistling as Alana glances around the room, waiting for silence before she says into the mic, “Are you having a good time?”
Apparently we’d arrived well after the original book signing fanfare and were now entering the party stage.
The moment they all yell, “Yes!” she grins and nods. “I know what you’ve been waiting for.”
“Tell us.”
“Dying to know.”
“Yes, please!” a lady calls out.
“Simmer down,” Alana laughs softly. “Ladies and gentlemen, I give you…Calder Blake.”
Right before she says his name, her gaze scans upward, but I don’t follow her line of sight because Calder steps onto the stage. The crowd goes wild while Alana hugs Calder, then hooks her arm with his and turns to present him to the audience. Her fawning over Calder infuriates me. The last thing I want to see is him enjoying it, so instead of watching them, I take in the two-story club.
An ironwork ladder centerpiece twists its way from the bottom floor up to the second story, where current partygoers upstairs lean over wrought iron railings to view the entire bottom floor events below. Both floors are alive with people chatting and drinking and colorful spotlights strobe to the music that has started to thump through the speakers.
Along each wall, every few feet, swaths of rich purple fabric flow down the decorative metal columns to the floor. Different collages of colorful tattooed images from Alana’s book decorate each of the purple columns, but it’s the five foot, black-and-white photo of Calder’s muscular back, with his shoulder to hip MMA “Steel persona” skull and raven tattoo, posted at the top of every single purple column that snags my attention. No matter where I turn in the room, he’s on display.
From an artist’s perspective, Alana was smart to choose a black and white of Calder’s back. The absence of color against the rich royal purple background makes his muscle definition and the black ink really stand out. But from a fiancée’s perspective, I want to grab that flirty bitch by her silky hair and yank it super-fucking hard.
“I thought he was giving a speech, but apparently this evening is just as much about celebrating Calder Blake’s back.”
I snort, appreciating Ben’s sarcasm as a group of ladies near us snap pictures of the closest massive poster and gossip amongst themselves.
“I wondered if it might be Calder Blake. My girlfriend and I placed bets on it, but no one could confirm.”
“He’s hot as fuck underneath that well-tailored suit.”
“I didn’t know it was him. A Blake? I’m truly and pleasantly shocked.”
The more they talk, I wish I hadn’t eavesdropped. I talk to Ben so I don’t have to listen. “Calder told me that Alana included an image of his back in the book, but not his name. He knew people would try to guess who
the model was, but they’d never know for sure, so this reveal baffles me,” I say over the music. It also makes me feel very left out of the loop. How did Alana change his mind?
“At least we know why there’s so much interest about the event,” Ben muses as he steps close to show me a promo flyer he’d picked up from a nearby café table.
Find out who the mystery man is from InkArt’s centerfold tonight!
Calder was the centerfold of her book? Ugh, I’m really not liking this at all.
Ben nods to the group of professional friends, colleagues, and reporters converging on Alana and Calder as they step off the stage and into the crowd. “If the general public didn’t know about Calder’s involvement in that illegal MMA ring takedown, they will once the reporters make the connection between that raven and skull tattoo and his Steel persona. It’ll be all over tomorrow’s newspapers and tabloids.”
Why would Calder risk all this exposure? “I think I need a drink,” I say, sighing.
“I’ll get you something.” Ben leans in, his hand touching my back. “What would you like?”
“Whiskey, neat.”
His eyebrows shoot up as he straightens. “Are you sure you want something that strong?”
“Yep, it’s that kind of night.”
“Okay, then.” As he walks away, my gaze returns to the crowd that has swallowed up Calder and Alana. I’m annoyed that I can no longer see them, so I step forward and watch with growing irritation once I spy Alana holding court with everyone oohing and aahing over the book and her talented brilliance of Calder’s tattoo.
I want to walk up and smack that book out of her hand. Who the hell does she think she is, exploiting the man I love and his family’s name, all to sell more books? And why did Calder allow this? I dig my nails into my palms to calm myself down, but the longer I stand there, the angrier I get. At both of them. As Alana moves closer, signing people’s InkArt books and swag along the way, I have to get out of the general area or I just might cause a scene.
The music amps higher as I follow along the wall, heading toward the back of the club. The bathroom has to be back there somewhere. At least there I can splash some cold water on my face and talk myself out of doing anything “rash” as Talia would say. I kind of miss our college days, when my best friend’s level head kept me from getting into far more trouble than I could have.
I glance up at the column of purple fabric holding Calder in all his glory just above me. As I pass by it, my annoyed smirk on full display, someone grabs my arm and pulls me behind the heavy cloth so fast that I completely disappear from view.
Chapter Twelve
Cass
Whatever my attacker says is drowned by the booming music, but I don’t give a damn. Swinging my free hand, I cuff him on the ear. This asshole will rue the day he touched me. “Let go!” He grunts in pain and clamps a tight arm around me, then hauls me through a door behind him and shuts us in complete darkness.
My heart thudding, I scream for help and pound my fist on his chest, then kick the hell out of his shin.
Just when I swing my fist for his groin, he blocks my hit and growls, “It’s me, Cass!”
“Calder?” I freeze and blink in the semi-darkness when a low, motion-activated light pops on above our heads. Apparently he’d pulled me into someone’s office. “You scared the crap out of me!” I say, pushing him away. “What is wrong with you?”
“Wrong with me?” He steps back into my personal space, scowling. “Why the hell is Ben all over you? For that matter, why is he even here?”
“All over me?” I run my thumb along his jaw and narrow my gaze at the red lipstick smudge on my skin. “Watch it, Calder. Your hypocrisy is showing.”
He captures my hand before I can lower it and yanks me forward, his voice lethal. “You belong to me!”
I’m so pissed and jealous, I don’t care if I provoke him. “Do I? Because last night you wouldn’t fuc—”
Calder’s mouth cuts me off, his fingers digging into my hair, cupping my head tight for his dominant kiss.
I still hate that he let Alana exploit him, but I can’t help but respond to the possessive thrust of his tongue tangling with mine. I tug against his lapels to keep him close, moaning against his mouth.
“Fucking hell, Cass. You drive me crazy.” He exhales a rumble of frustration and bites the curve of my jaw as he cups my ass and pulls me fully against his erection.
Calder at his rawest is my aphrodisiac. This is the man I fell in love with. The one who doesn’t hold back and who demands the same. When he’s like this, I always feel like I’m the only one for him. I was too panicked to recognize his arousing aftershave when he first pulled me behind the curtain, but now, as he presses a hot kiss on the skin he just bit, I inhale deeply, enjoying his woodsy sandalwood smell. Calder freezes and his nostrils flare when his gaze locks on the diamond raven choker around my neck.
My eyebrows lift. “Who do you think I wore this for?”
His voice deepens. “It looks so fucking hot on you. I wish you’d wear it all the time. The choker, combined with this dress...you’re a walking wet dream.”
He’s seducing me with just words, damn him. “It’s only meant to be worn for special occasions, like…you know, attending an event my fiancé’s ex planned that’s clearly really all about him.” I push up on my toes until our lips are almost touching and wrap my arms around his neck, my tone suddenly serious. “You belong to me! And if I drive you crazy, then you’d better do something about that.”
He presses his forehead against mine, his breath sawing deeply as he palms my hips, locking us together. “I want you so goddamn bad right now.”
I slide my hands into his hair and when I tug on the short strands, his fingers flex against my body. The barely-leashed tension in his hold sends chills of excitement scattering along my skin. I hate that he’s holding back. I need him to lose it. To show as much emotion as I feel every time he touches me. My lips shift close to his ear. “I’m not wearing anything underneath this silk dress.”
Calder’s hands suddenly cinch around my waist and a low, feral snarl vibrates against my chest. “You came with Hemming like this?”
I grip his shoulders, my fingers digging into his muscles and crushing his suit jacket. “There’s only one person I came for.”
Heated emotion smolders in his gaze, then his thumbs move to hook the deep vee neckline at my waist and slowly begins to slide upward. With each tantalizing inch of his fingers moving along my ribs, the soft fabric pulls apart. The erotic rub of the silk sliding over my nipples jacks my heart rate and curls my toes in my shoes, but it’s the primal desire in Calder’s gaze as he exposes my breasts that robs my ability to breathe and turns my legs to jelly. If he weren’t holding me, I most certainly wouldn’t be standing right now. Swallowing to remain calm, I’m surprised by the huskiness in my voice. “You’re still holding back and that’s the last thing either of us wants.”
I gasp when he suddenly lifts me off the ground like I weigh nothing and his warm mouth latches onto my breast. Tucking my body against his, he nips at my nipple and grabs my bare ass with a savage hold. I’ll probably have handprint bruises on my rear, but I’m so turned on I fist my fingers in his hair, wrap my legs around his trim waist, and yank him closer, mewling my pleasure.
Calder walks us deeper into the room and we fall together onto the leather couch. I kick my shoes off as his hands move all over me, scalding my skin with feverish intensity. “Fuck, I can’t stop,” he growls and slides me fully under him, his tongue plundering my mouth with deep, aggressive I’m-going-to-drill-you-into-this-couch intent.
I kiss him back with just as much fervor, not giving a damn that I’m begging. “Please, Calder.” I’m aching to feel him inside me. I tear at his belt buckle and free the button, my movements frantic.
He freezes and puts his hand on the couch, pushing slightly off of me. “Cass, we’re supposed to—”
Yanking his zipper down, I grasp h
is erection jutting against his boxers. “Don’t you dare stop!”
He shudders and groans as I slide his cock free, but he grabs my wrist before I can touch him, his voice harsh. “No—” Cutting himself off, he closes his eyes for a second. When they open, the look of dark lust glittering in his gaze makes my stomach clench. “I’m so jacked right now, I might hurt you.”
“I’m fine,” I say, taking his hand and pressing his fingers against me.
He exhales harshly as he dips two fingers inside me, then buries them deep. “I love everything about you.” Withdrawing his hand, he sucks his fingers clean, carnal hunger shining in his eyes. “Every wet, sweet, tasty drop.”
Meeting his gaze with equal desire, I roll my hips. “No more waiting.”
“Be still, Raven mine.” His hand slips into my hair as he lowers himself against me.
I pant hard and tilt my pelvis, giving him better access. Anything to stop the throbbing torture.
Calder rumbles his satisfaction as we connect, then thrusts deep with a low guttural roar of sheer pleasure.
I bite back the pinch of discomfort and instantly move my hips to allow my body to adjust to his girth. Calder counters my movements, his warm lips pressing against my throat. “Fuck, this never gets old, angel. You feel so damn good. I wish I could stay here all night.”
“Promise?” I whisper and press even closer, lifting us both off the couch.
He moans and grips my ass cheek even tighter. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
Rocking against him, my breathing ramps. “Only if you can’t keep up.”
His hold on my hair tightens and an arrogant purr sounds in my ear. “Let’s just see who can keep up.”
I get lost in the moment when he pushes his hips forward and rocks hard against me, hitting my g-spot with masterful precision. My orgasm explodes and shudders cascade throughout my body, making my eyes flutter and my toes dig into the sofa.
Blood Rose Page 10
