Billion Dollar Love: Manlove Edition

by 6 Author Anthology

  Mary-Sue laughed, then strutted over to the door. She paused, clicked her nails on the wood, then turned back to Aaron.

  “Tell him, tell him before it’s too late.”

  She closed the door softly, and Aaron released a long, slow sigh. Something caught his eye on the bookcase, and he moved towards it. The words Night Club of the Year were etched into glass. The Junction had won for three consecutive years. Beside it there was another award, Barman of the Year with Jett’s name on. There were awards for best live music, best live performance, most entertaining theme night. Each time Jett showed him an award, Aaron had congratulated him, told him well done, but hadn’t gone any deeper, hadn’t made Jett realize how grateful he was to have him at the helm of his club.

  Aaron dragged his gaze along the photographs. Jett and his team that ran The Junction, all grinning, arms thrown around each other as they posed together on some team-building trip Jett had arranged. He remembered Jett’s disappointed face when Aaron told him he wouldn’t be going, the hint of sadness in his big blue eyes.

  “Shit.”

  Jett’s world was a million miles away from Aaron’s. It was not like he could do a team-building, not like he could pose for photos with the guys that worked for him. Aaron wasn’t even sure if a few of them were even capable of smiling. They worked in the shadows, in the grubby places people preferred not to look. There were no trophies, or awards, or plaques for them, just money, so much money he didn’t even know what to do to with it most of the time. He’d bought a stupidly huge mansion for himself, but only spent time in the bedroom, the bathroom, and the kitchen. Someone else could’ve been living in the house, and he wouldn’t have known it.

  “Marlon Steel,” Aaron whispered. Then he yanked his phone from his inside pocket.

  He pressed it to his ear and tapped his foot on the floor as he waited for it to connect.

  “Boss?”

  “Ethan, I need you to do some digging for me.”

  “Who on?”

  “Marlon Steel.”

  “The movie star?”

  Aaron paused. He heard the wonder and the surprise in Ethan’s voice, and he didn’t like it. Somehow Marlon Steel had penetrated the underworld; somehow, he’d gotten some loyalty from his men.

  “You know him?”

  “He’s in that fantasy series. It’s really good. It’s been voted the best—”

  “TV series of all time, yeah, I heard. I need you to find some dirt on him.”

  “I can try…”

  There was uncertainty in his voice, a nervousness.

  Aaron gritted his teeth. “Problem?”

  “No, there’s no problem, Boss … it’s just he’s supposed to be a nice guy.”

  “Nice guys have dark secrets, you know that.”

  “True. I’ll see what I can find out.”

  “Thank you, Ethan.”

  He disconnected the call, then tucked his phone back into his pocket.

  ****

  Two days later, Aaron lay in his king-size bed, flicking through costumes on his phone. Every single one got him hard when he imagined Jett wearing them, but he couldn’t decide between Heaven and Hell, naughty or nice. The angel outfits would’ve suited Jett’s personality, made his baby-blue eyes pop, his smile look godly, but the red devil outfits, the horns, the tale, the red spandex leaving nothing to the imagination, that was as much of an incentive. He didn’t know whether he wanted Jett to look all innocent and pure, or corrupted and hot.

  Whatever choice he made, he knew Jett would look mouthwatering, not just for him, but for everyone else in the club, too. When he thought of Marlon ogling Jett, the tingling in his crotch faded and he stopped stroking himself under the duvet.

  He’d looked Marlon up, read article after article. As Mary-Sue had told him, he was renowned for being nice, nice to his fans, nice to the press, nice to the cast and crew. He was nice, and Jett was nice. They were suited, much to Aaron’s annoyance.

  Marlon’s social media profile was full of his workout videos. Him looking no less than perfect, with his perfectly tousled blond hair, his perfectly sculptured jaw, nose, chest, all of it, and as soon as Aaron thought of Jett underneath Marlon’s stupidly perfect body, he flung the phone away, not wanting to scroll through anymore outfits.

  He didn’t want to dress Jett up for someone else to enjoy.

  Marlon looked like the kind of guy that would thank you repeatedly after sex, but then again, Jett looked like the kind of guy that would like that. Jett looked like the kind of guy that would smile all sweetly after sex, and whisper it was the best he’d ever had.

  Aaron groaned. He didn’t understand why he wanted to see that smile, why he wanted to hear Jett whisper his amazement. He liked it rough, but he wanted the sweetness from Jett, too. It was something he craved, something that all the men he paid for couldn’t give him. Something he knew he’d only get from Jett.

  Aaron’s phone buzzed, and he snatched it off the bedside table, then sat up against the headboard. “Tell me you’ve got something.”

  Ethan breathed shakily down the line, and Aaron sagged, pinching the bridge of his nose.

  “Nothing of any use. He donated $200,000 to a dog center two weeks ago.”

  “Well that’s suspicious, right?”

  “The center burned down, and they needed funds to rebuild it. He bought a new plot of land for the charity to build on, and the plans look incredible.”

  “But why, why did he pay that, blackmail? Guilty conscience? Maybe he started the fire.”

  “He loves animals, supports loads of different charities.”

  “Of course he does.”

  “I did find out what hotel he’s staying in though. Rupert’s Inn in Camden.”

  “What use is that?”

  “Well we can’t blackmail him, but we can do other things.”

  Aaron eyed the ceiling. “Where are you?”

  “Outside the hotel. What do you want us to do, Boss?”

  “Us?”

  “Yeah, I told the others about it, and we’re at the hotel now. Leon’s more than happy to knock Marlon’s teeth in.”

  Aaron shook his head. “No, I don’t want you to do anything. No intimidating, or threatening, or harming him.”

  “Oh, I just assumed—”

  “Well don’t just assume. You shouldn’t do anything unless I specifically say so.”

  “Why was I looking for dirt on him then?”

  “Because I goddamn told you to,” Aaron said, then hung up.

  He flopped back into the bed, releasing another unhappy sigh. If Ethan dug up a dark secret, he would’ve exposed Marlon in the club, either quietly so Marlon could leave with little fuss, or in front of everyone, so Aaron would be able to see Jett’s desire for Marlon dissolve right in front of his eyes.

  Neither scenario would happen, Aaron was going to walk into the night completely unprepared. He didn’t know how he was going to react to Jett, to Marlon, to any of it, and an emotion reared up in him that he wasn’t used to.

  Aaron was nervous.

  Chapter Three

  The queue for The Junction stretched down the street. Jett had hired extra security on the door, and once Aaron was waved inside, he struggled through the crowd, the box he was holding acting as a ram. The clubbers were all dressed up, either angels or devils, the girls wearing as little as possible, the men, a bit more reserved, some wearing their normal wear, but with added halos or horns.

  Aaron froze in the middle of the club, and just took it all in. Jett had divided the club, half heaven, half hell. One side had thick red drapes hanging from the ceiling, skeletons, smoke machines, and dancers dressed as demons, including scary contact lenses and horns.

  White, glittery material hung on the heaven’s side. A machine sprayed out bubbles, Aaron could even smell something like bubble-gum from that side of the room, too. Angel-dressed dancers were suspended on hoops from the ceiling, holding their bodies in all sorts of difficult, yet gracefu
l positions. The place certainly had a wow effect, and Aaron moved in a haze to the VIP room.

  “He’s done well, hasn’t he?”

  Aaron turned to Mary-Sue, dressed as a devil, dark red lipstick, cat-eye contact lenses, and pointed horns. She wore a black set of underwear, and knee-high boots, and yet more shimmering body-paint.

  “He has,” Aaron agreed.

  She gestured to the box. “Can I take a peek?”

  Aaron lifted the lid and watched Mary-Sue’s reaction. Her red lips popped open, and she scrunched her brow. “Where’s the rest of it?”

  Aaron snorted and closed the lid.

  “Come on, Boss, I’ll get you a drink.”

  Mary-Sue led the way, and he followed. Customers moved out of her way, mainly to stare at her ass as she strutted by, but still, Aaron preferred not to elbow everyone, or glare until they backed away. It was Jett’s night, and he didn’t want to ruin it by starting a fight.

  Aaron stopped at the bar, put the box down, then waited for Mary-Sue to appear on the other side. She hooked something around his neck, and he glanced down at the VIP badge.

  “I get a devil’s VIP badge?”

  “Well there’s no way you’d get the angels’ one.”

  Mary-Sue laughed, then handed Aaron a menu.

  “You’re looking hot by the way,” she said.

  Aaron glanced down at himself. He was wearing his normal black pants, white shirt, black jacket. The price tag would’ve made most people’s eyes water, but it was nothing to Aaron. He knew he looked good, knew the outfit screamed out expense.

  “Thank you,” Aaron said. “The same to you.”

  “The knee-high boots not too much?”

  “Hell no.”

  “And the body paint?”

  “I’m a big fan of the body paint.”

  Mary-Sue smiled. “I’m liking this,” she said, gesturing to Aaron’s jaw. The truth was, he’d not had time to shave, too busy rushing around the city for an outfit, but the shadow suited him, making him look even more dark and alluring, or so he hoped.

  “Jett likes facial hair.”

  “Does he?”

  That was one thing he had over Marlon Steel.

  “Yep, tall, dark and handsome, that’s his type.”

  Aaron puffed out his chest. He had more than one thing over Marlon Steel.

  “So about that drink?” Aaron said, lifting his eyebrow, scanning through all the cocktails, trying not to make it too obvious he was changing the subject.

  Mary-Sue snorted, then pointed down at the list. “There’s some good ones.”

  “Angel dust, forbidden fruits, hotter than hell?”

  “My personal favorite is The Devil’s Phlegm.”

  “I’d like to say that sounds like a delight, but I’d be lying.”

  “Give it a go.”

  Aaron handed the drinks menu back. “Go on then.”

  “Coming right up, Boss.”

  He craned his neck forward, looking at the other end of the bar, the busier end, with the huge crowd gathered around. He could see Jett, but he was busy, shaking cocktails and chatting away. He hadn’t even noticed Aaron had come in, too engrossed in his work.

  Aaron watched him from a distance. Jett in his element. Jett smiling, laughing, serving drinks, chatting, posing for pictures. He was the top guy, the undisputed king of the barmen, and he even had the trophy in the office to prove it.

  Aaron was the top of the underworld, shady, working in the shadows, the bad side of the human psyche, but there was Jett. He shone in the light, there to see. He worked to make others happy, to ensure they had a good time. Aaron tore people down and made their lives a misery, but Jett, he lifted them up. He dedicated his life to giving people a fun night, a sprinkle of happiness in their otherwise droning lives. They were at opposite ends of the scale.

  Heaven and Hell.

  “Here’ ya go,” Mary-Sue said with a smile.

  Aaron didn’t pick up the glass. He didn’t even look down at it. “Something’s come up, and I’ve got to go.”

  “What, right now?”

  “Yeah.”

  Aaron put his hand on the box and pushed it towards her. “Can you give Jett this? He doesn’t have to wear it if he doesn’t want to.”

  Mary-Sue put her hand on top of Aaron’s, pinning him to the box. “Go over there, give it to him, and tell him he’s done good.”

  Aaron shook his head. She didn’t understand. How could she? He was a bad person, and Jett was a good one. He had to ignore his heart, his lust, and distance himself from Jett. He and Jett weren’t suited. Jett was meant for someone good, meant for someone like Marlon Steel. He had to do the selfless thing, and let Jett go. He cared about him too much to drag him down to his level.

  “Just once, just tell him he’s done good once, Jesus, Aaron, he deserves it.”

  He looked back down the bar at Jett. Jett with his head tipped back, laughing. He didn’t need Aaron’s praise or amazement. Everyone else in the club was giving it to him.

  “Please,” Mary-Sue said, squeezing his hand.

  Aaron breathed heavily out of his nose. “Fine.”

  Mary-Sue removed her hand from Aaron’s then shooed him away. He tucked the box under his arm, and started making his way across the bar, glaring at anyone that dared to stay in his path for too long.

  As he got closer, his eyes locked on the man in front of the bar. Perched on a stool, in an expensive suit to rival Aaron’s, sat Marlon Steel.

  Marlon Steel was gazing up at Jett, grinning like a smug cat. A semi-circle of people surrounded him, hanging on his every word. Jett was grinning, too. His eyes were taking in Marlon. Those traitorous blue eyes were looking at someone else with amazement, with joy, with brightness, and Aaron hated it.

  He kept walking, expression darkening the closer he got to Jett. His fury transmitted to the surrounding crowd, and they parted, tripped, and struggled out of his path to be free of the intimidating waves he was giving off. Aaron caught some of the conversation. Marlon’s adoring crowd awed at his every word as he described the dog shelter being built.

  That was his power, being a good guy, but Aaron, a self-confessed asshole, could see through it. No genuine nice guy sought awes, and applause. They didn’t brag about what they did under a guise of being “nice”. Marlon was an asshole, just a different kind of one.

  Jett looked at Aaron, and the anger seeped away. The smile on Jett’s face stretched wider, rounding his cheeks into ripe apples. Aaron was struck dumb. He couldn’t believe minutes ago he was planning on walking away, severing his reliance on Jett, handing him over to Marlon. He’d had a second of contemplating doing the “right thing”, and he was never going to do it again. He was a selfish bastard, took anything he wanted with no apology, and there was no way on earth he was letting Jett go.

  Marlon stopped mid-sentence, then turned to see what had stolen Jett’s attention. He looked Aaron up and down, taking him in. He grinned at Aaron, waving him closer, but Aaron still caught it, the scrunch of annoyance on his face.

  The semi-circle entourage made way for Aaron, and he stepped up to the bar.

  “You came,” Jett said.

  “I wasn’t gonna miss your night.” Aaron said, and then he placed the box on the bar. Jett went to open it, but Aaron held the lid down. “Not yet.”

  Jett gestured to Marlon, and Aaron resisted the urge to ignore the man beside him and shot him a smile.

  “Marlon Steel,” he said, before Jett could introduce them. “I’m Aaron. This is my nightclub, and Jett is the guy that runs it for me.”

  Marlon held out his hand, and Aaron took hold, tried his hardest not to crunch Marlon’s fingers in his grip, but some voice in the back of his head, thought it would be good to break them all. Then Marlin would go to hospital and wouldn’t get a chance of using them on Jett.

  Marlon’s face tightened, and Aaron released him, laughing softly.

  “Sorry, I don’t know my own strength.”


  He straightened, pushing his chest out, just to show he was stacked with muscle. He was posturing, making sure Marlon knew if they ever came to blows, Aaron would win hands down.

  “Are you enjoying your night?” Aaron asked.

  “I always enjoy myself when I come here. My schedule’s free, and I can finally unwind.”

  “Free? No series five in the works then, I did think the last season wasn’t as engaging as the first. Maybe it’s best to stop at four.”

  Marlon’s lips bobbed open and closed. The mask slipped, for a fraction of a second, so fast Aaron was convinced he was the only one that had seen it. Marlon’s sea of supporters started to hiss, and shuffle.

  “That’s just my opinion,” Aaron said with his hand on his heart. “I’m sorry, maybe I’ve got more complex tastes.”

  Marlon frowned. “You’re entitled to an opinion, but can I ask what you didn’t like about it?”

  Shit.

  Aaron didn’t even know what happened in the series, hadn’t seen one episode, and everyone was waiting for him to say something, including Jett. He remembered what Ethan had said, that Marlon was in some fantasy series.

  He took a gamble.

  “All the fantasy stuff isn’t for me, too much CGI and special effects, not enough personal drama and character development.”

  Marlon licked his lips, then turned away. “Fair enough, it’s not for you.”

  “That’s what I said.”

  “Anyway,” Jett cut in. “Drink?”

  As if on cue, Mary-Sue appeared and placed Aaron’s glass on the bar. “Devil’s Phlegm.”

  Aaron winked at her. “Thanks.”

  He took a sip, then frowned at the flavors dancing on his tongue. “Is there chili in it?”

  Jett smiled. “Yeah.”

  “It’s good.”

  “I made that one up myself.”

  “You should add cocktail maker to your CV.”

  Jett full on-beamed a smile at Aaron, and he relaxed into the look, grinning back, all until Marlon opened his mouth.

  “I was telling Jett about the new dog shelter I’m building.”

  Jett’s eyes lit up, his attention locked back on to Marlon, and Aaron inwardly sighed. He never backed down from a fight, and although a physical alteration was out of the question, he could still win the war of words. One thing “bad” people had over “good” ones, lying was second nature.