Famous

by Marie Force

  So, yeah, a big part of my decision to back off is centered on self-preservation. I love my job. I love my friends. I love my life. Fucking things up with Marlowe, no matter how amazing it might be until it goes bad, endangers all those things. I made the right decision for both of us. I made the courageous decision. Because it sure as hell would’ve been easier in the short term to say fuck it and take what I want so badly, I can still taste the sweetness of her lips and feel the heat of her pressed against my cock.

  Trying not to actually moan from the memory that will haunt me forever, I go into the kitchen, pour a glass of ice water and down it in three big gulps. I have to get out of here. In my bedroom, I use the bathroom, brush my teeth, splash cold water on my face and then change into a tank top and basketball shorts. There’s a gym in the basement of my building where I can expend the energy that has me tied up in knots.

  “I’ll be back in a bit,” I say to Marlowe, who doesn’t reply.

  So now she’s gone silent on me? I hate this shit. I take the elevator down to the basement and put myself through a punishing workout over the next ninety minutes. Sweating profusely and lightheaded from not eating, I stagger outside and walk to the coffee shop on the corner to pick up coffees and breakfast sandwiches for both of us, ignoring the people who give me a wide berth. I’m not sure if it’s because I stink, or they can sense the fury that wasn’t snuffed out in the gym. Whatever. That’s their issue, not mine.

  I return to my place, and the first thing I hear is singing. Marlowe is singing in the shower. Like the fool that I am, I go to the bathroom door, trying to hear what song she’s singing. I listen intently and hear “coming,” “humming,” “moaning” and “nonstop loving.” It takes a minute for me to remember the song, but it’s “Blow” by Beyoncé. Listening to Marlowe’s take on the down-and-dirty song has me once again harder than granite and about to blow.

  “Fuck,” I mutter, turning to walk away while wondering if she chose that song on purpose. I wouldn’t put it past her.

  Ten minutes later, she emerges from the bathroom wearing a thin silk robe that leaves absolutely nothing to my fertile imagination. Her hair is piled in a messy bun, leaving her bruised but flawless face on display. The rest of the world sees her made up like the movie star she is, but when she’s not working, she doesn’t wear any makeup. With makeup, she’s glamorous and every inch a superstar. Without it, she’s simply stunning, and I find myself staring at her as she types on her phone, legs curled under her and the front of her robe gaping open to reveal most of a plump breast.

  I tear my gaze off that tempting sight and put the coffee and sandwich on the table in front of her.

  “Thank you.”

  “Welcome.” Taking my coffee with me, I go into the bathroom to shower, and within seconds of stepping under the water, I’ve got my hand wrapped around my cock as I try to find relief from the nearly painful need for something I’ve convinced myself I can’t have. After hours on the edge of release, it takes almost nothing to make me blow.

  Ugh, there’s that word again.

  I want her so bad that I burn from the need to touch her, to worship her, to protect her. I’d give her everything I have if I thought she’d want or need what I can give her, which isn’t much compared to what she already has.

  After washing my hair and body, I stay in the shower until the water starts to run cold. Anything is better than facing the redheaded temptress in my living room. I’ve never felt like my place was small until she arrived and filled it with her unique brand of magic. I’ll never be able to look at my home again and not see her there.

  Fuck.

  I get out of the shower and take my time getting dressed, trying to get my head together so I can face her without making everything worse than it already is. More than an hour has passed by the time I step out of my room to find that Leah has arrived.

  “Hey, Seb,” she says.

  “How’s it going?”

  “Pretty good. Liza and her crew are dealing with the media, and Emmett is involved, too.”

  “That’s good.”

  “Gordon wants to send a few guys over to keep an eye on things here,” Leah adds.

  Our security director is nothing if not thorough when it comes to protecting the principals. “Is that really necessary? No one knows she’s here.” And then another thought occurs to me. “You weren’t followed, were you?”

  “Nope. I was careful when I left Marlowe’s so I wouldn’t lead them to her.”

  “Oh, good.” I breathe out a sigh of relief. Then I realize Marlowe is taking things out of the bag that Leah brought her—silky things with lace and thin straps and netting. Fuck me to hell and back again. What’s she planning to do with that stuff?

  “You found Big Johnny!” She withdraws a gigantic dildo from the bag and holds it up for closer inspection before planting a kiss on the tip of the huge cock.

  “He was right where you said he would be.” Leah hasn’t got an ounce of shame, which doesn’t surprise me. She’s known for being somewhat shameless.

  “Gotta have Johnny if I’m going to do without for a while.”

  Leah laughs. “A girl has her needs.”

  “Yep. Speaking of needs, how’re things with Emmett?”

  “So, so great. I can’t get enough of him.” Leah sits back on the sofa, a dreamy look overtaking her face. “He’s amazing in every way, especially in the area of stamina.”

  Marlowe unleashes the dirty laugh that helped to make her a superstar, and I have to bite my lip to hold in a moan of frustration. “That’s a very important quality to have in the man you love.”

  “That’s very true. The man can go all night. I have to beg him to let me sleep, even though that’s the last thing I want to do when he’s in bed with me.”

  “Now you’re just bragging, you lucky bitch.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry.” Marlowe pokes Leah’s leg with Johnny’s broad head. “You’re in love. That’s the way it should be.”

  “I’m so in love.”

  Watching Marlowe handle that fucking dildo has me on the verge of losing my shit all over again, like the orgasm in the shower never happened. “I’ll, ah, give you ladies some privacy.” I make a quick exit onto the deck and close the door behind me, before I can do something stupid, like drag her into my bed and give her the real thing.

  We wait until the sliding door closes before Leah and I dissolve into laughter. “Oh my God, you’re so getting a raise.”

  “I deserve a raise after having to dig through your sex-toy drawer to find Big Johnny.”

  “That was above and beyond the call of duty, but it had to be done.”

  “I deserve hazardous duty pay for this mission.”

  “You shall be richly rewarded. I promise.”

  “Actually, watching Sebastian try not to lose his mind while you were stroking Big Johnny was a pretty nice payoff.”

  “I think you missed your calling as an actress.”

  “Really? You thought I was good?”

  “You were perfect.”

  “I just followed directions. I can talk dirty shit about Emmett all day, every day—and all night, too.”

  I smile at her. “I’m so glad you guys are happy.”

  “We’re so happy, but you wanna tell me what the hell is going on here?”

  “Well, it’s like this. Sebastian told me he’s had feelings for me for as long as we’ve known each other.”

  Leah’s mouth falls open. “Isn’t that like ten years?”

  “More like twelve.”

  “Holy shit. What did you say to that?”

  “At first, I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, and then… Then I was kind of thrilled because I’ve thought about what it might be like with him.”

  “So all this time, you’ve both had a crush going on and no one knew, not even each other?”

  “Something like that.”

  “This is so exciting! So you’re gonna, l
ike, go for it while you’re here with him?”

  “Not exactly. He doesn’t think it would be wise to pursue things with me.”

  “Why?”

  “Something about how it wouldn’t work because he’s not good enough for me, and it would be a hot mess for everyone if it doesn’t work out.”

  “That last part is true, but he really said he’s not good enough for you?”

  “Yep, and that’s what led to me bringing you in with some props and an award-winning performance.”

  “You’re going to show him he’s good enough for you.” She rolls her bottom lip between her teeth, which she does when she’s thinking. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but…” She shakes her head. “Never mind. It’s none of my business.”

  “Just say whatever you’re thinking. Aren’t we past the point where you have to worry about what you say to me? You’ve seen my sex toys, for crying out loud.”

  Leah laughs. “True. It’s just that I was thinking about what happened with the piece of shit and whether it’s too soon to be moving on after something like that.”

  I look down at Big Johnny, which Addie gave me as a joke gift for my thirtieth birthday, and try to find the words to explain how I’m feeling. “I don’t want to ever again think about him or what happened.”

  “I totally understand. I never want to think about him again either. I can’t begin to know how you must feel.”

  “I’d rather stay focused on exacting revenge than gnashing my teeth about another failed relationship, you know?”

  “What’re you going to do?”

  “We’ve already made sure he lost his job. Kristian told his boss that it was either him or us, and being the smart businessman that he is, the boss chose us.”

  “He’d be insane not to. Quantum makes his company a shit-ton of money every year.”

  “Yep, so he’s out of a job, and I’m planning to return some of the texts I got from his exes when I first started seeing him. They tried to tell me to watch out. I was too busy ignoring the warnings because I was determined to get my happily ever after, too.”

  Leah’s brows knit with confusion. “Too?”

  “Look at what’s happened to my friends in the last year. I started to feel desperate about being alone while everyone else was happily in love, which, in hindsight, makes me a little crazy. What’s wrong with me to be thinking that way? That stupidity led me to think Rafe was the one for me. I didn’t want to entertain the possibility that I was making yet another big mistake when it came to men.”

  “Give yourself a break, Mo. You liked the guy. Of course you didn’t want to think it was possible he wasn’t what he seemed. If someone told me Emmett isn’t a good guy, I would ignore it, too, because I’ve seen proof to the contrary. You must’ve, too, or you never would’ve stayed with him for months.”

  “There were good things but also not-so-good things that I ignored because I so wanted to get my happy ending. Stupid, right?”

  She takes hold of my hand. “It’s never stupid to be hopeful, Marlowe. And it’s never stupid to put your faith in someone you care about.”

  “You’re very sweet and maybe just a little naïve about how shitty people can be.”

  “I’m not as naïve as you think. My mom was an alcoholic. My junior year of high school, she fell down the stairs and broke her neck. I was the one who found her.”

  “Oh no. Leah… I’m so sorry.”

  “It was a long time ago, as was the bullying I endured in school, but you know about that.”

  I do know. One of the girls who’d treated her so viciously released compromising photos of Leah after she came to work for me. “I’m sorry I called you naïve. You’re not.”

  “I am about some things, but shitty people isn’t one of them.” She glances over her shoulder, presumably to check that Sebastian is still outside. “What’s your plan?”

  “I was thinking I’d give him a little taste of what he’d be missing if he decides to stick to his ridiculous decision to keep his distance from me.”

  “Oh, I like it,” Leah says on a low, dirty laugh. “He won’t stand a chance against you and Big Johnny.”

  “That’s the idea.”

  “Like you asked, I brought you the sluttiest lingerie I could find in your drawer.”

  “You did good, kid.”

  “Aww, thanks! I’ll tell you one thing, when I was teaching, my boss never asked me to go get slutty lingerie and sex toys from her house.”

  I lose it laughing. “I should hope not.”

  “Tell me something… Have you ever actually used Big Johnny for his intended purpose?”

  “Dear God, no. He’s freakishly large.”

  “Oh, thank you, Jesus. I was hoping you’d say that.”

  “That being said, Sebastian doesn’t need to know that Big Johnny and I have never done the deed.”

  “No, he doesn’t.”

  We’re still cracking up when the slider opens to admit Seb. We try to curb our laughter, but Leah is one of the funniest people I’ve ever met, and the face she makes at me when she hears him coming has me losing it all over again.

  “I’m going to go,” Leah whispers. “Let me know if you need any other props for your performance.”

  “You’ll be the first to know.” I give her a quick hug and send her on her way, thankful as I am every day for Natalie, who suggested I hire Leah as my assistant. Best decision I ever made. That she’s become my friend, too, is an added bonus.

  Taking Big Johnny and the bag she brought me into my room, I close the door and change into an electric-blue bodysuit that takes some effort to put on properly. There are cutouts that leave more skin showing than covered, with thin strips of fabric slashing across my breasts, concealing only my nipples. I’ve never worn this before, but I bought it for a trip I was supposed to take with Rafe.

  No sense letting it go to waste if it can be put toward a good cause. And Sebastian is definitely a worthwhile cause.

  Chapter 11

  My throat feels weird, like I’ve got a tie on, and it’s tied way too tight around my neck. My skin is hot, the same way it got when I broke out in hives after eating shellfish for the first time when I was nineteen, which is how I found out I’m allergic. Now I’m wondering if there was something in that breakfast sandwich I ate that’s giving me similar symptoms.

  Or is it Marlowe and Big Johnny and the bag of frilly bits that Leah brought her that has me wondering what the hell she’s thinking asking her assistant to bring such things here when I told her earlier that nothing is going to happen.

  Why does it seem that she’s working five steps ahead of where I am on this thing? Probably because she is. Marlowe is one of the sharpest, smartest women I’ve ever known, and I’ve long admired her ability to slice through the bullshit to get to the heart of a matter. Except when she’s using those superpowers on me, as I’m sure she’s planning to do.

  I’m on edge waiting to see what will happen next, and that’s so not like me. My anxiety issues don’t usually extend to women. At least they never have before. I’m all about having a good time, making sure my partner leaves happy and going on with my life without ever looking back.

  With Marlowe, not looking back wouldn’t be an option, which is one of many reasons why I told her this shouldn’t happen. Not to mention, we’re both Doms, which isn’t ideal. I can’t picture myself with someone like her—or anyone, for that matter—long-term. I’m a lone wolf. Always have been, even when I was running with gangbangers. I preferred to work alone so I wouldn’t have to count on anyone but myself. In my entire life, I’ve truly trusted a half-dozen people: my mother, Hayden, Flynn, Jasper, Kristian and Marlowe. Emmett too, I suppose.

  Period. End of story.

  My thoughts are interrupted by loud music coming from my guestroom. “Why Don’t We Get Drunk (And Screw)” by Jimmy Buffett. I huff out a laugh. “Subtle.” Then my phone chimes with a text from her.

  I could use your help.
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br />   I’ve never understood the expression “gallows humor” before now. I feel like a condemned man going to my doom, having no doubt that whatever she needs my help with will be the end of me. I fear that confessing my longtime crush on her will turn out to be the biggest mistake I’ve ever made—and I’ve made some doozies.

  When I knock on the closed door, she calls out for me to come in.

  Hand on the doorknob, I take a deep breath and summon the fortitude I’ll need to contend with whatever she’s got planned for me. When I open the door, the sight that greets me is one I’ll remember in the final moments of my life. It’s all I can do not to laugh out loud at her shamelessness, but I don’t laugh because with one quick glance at her face, I see vulnerability just beneath the surface of her bravado.

  She’s wearing an electric-blue… thing. Calling it a bodysuit would be giving it too much credit, especially since it leaves most of her body uncovered. Strips of blue crisscross her chest, covering her nipples but leaving the rest of her full breasts visible to my hungry gaze. Miles of creamy white skin, marred only by bruises here and there, are on full display, and then she turns down the music on her phone and shifts ever so slightly to show me her back.

  “I can’t reach the snaps. Can you help?”

  I can’t move or breathe or do anything other than stare at her. I’ve seen her in the skimpiest of bikinis and managed to control myself, but this… This is for me, and knowing that shatters any semblance of control I normally would have around her.

  “Sebastian? Are you all right?”

  No, I’m not all right. I’m completely and totally fucked. And the best part? She knows it, judging by the smug little smile she sends my way.

  She turns fully onto her belly, showing me her sweet ass. Then she spreads her legs, ever so slightly, but just enough to make me want to howl, and glances at me over her shoulder. “Can you help?”

  Three thin strips of fabric hang from each side of her back. The angry-looking lacerations are what finally snap me out of my stupor. “We should tend to those wounds.”