A short bitter laugh passes her lips.“As long as it’s dressed well, has balls, and clean fingernails.Yes, I’ve heard that about you.”
She grabs my dinner jacket off a chair back and holds it up for me to slip on, then buttons it for me, and sweeps some microscopic particle of dust from the lapel.
“Tonight will run far more smoothly if you can find it in yourself to comply with the various security measures it’s been necessary to put in place to ensure your safety.”
“Yeah,” I drawl.“’Cause I’m so-o at risk.”
“I’m just here to do my job, Mr.Drake.If Howard Falchard says you’re a high risk target, then you’re a high risk target.”
Whatever!“As you say.So, instruct me.”
“The car is already waiting.We go straight along the corridor to the elevators, then down to sub-level two.Johns will be our driver for the night.I’ll be your official escort.I’ll brief you with regards to the venue during the drive.Anything you require clarifying before we proceed?”
Yeah, why the fuck she’s still staring me like I’m the yummiest morsel that ever stuck on the sole of her shoe.Oh, make no mistake, she’s fighting to hide what she’s feeling, and her veneer of professionalism is impressive, but I’m an actor.I know a mask when I see one.
She heads towards the busted door, and I put a foot forward to follow, when it occurs to me that maybe I ought to check out her credentials.Could be she’s the crazy person behind the tacky little notes I’ve been getting and my official escort is yet to arrive.
“Do you have a name?”
It’s only her head that she turns back to face me.“Carter-Wells,” she says.“Kira Carter-Wells.And yes, you can take a few seconds to dial Howard and check my legitimacy.”
-3-
-Kira Carter-Wells-
I wait by the door while Dylan Drake checks me out.The conversation over the phone line is terse on both ends from what I hear of the exchange.The interesting part is that his gaze keeps straying over to me as he speaks, then being snatched back as if he suddenly remembers he’s not supposed to be interested.
Not that I think he is interested… More’s the pity, even if he is a tart.He’s still drop dead gorgeous.And gay, of course.You’d think actually witnessing him getting off might finally rid me of my desire for his squeezable buns, dimpled chin and playboy smile.But no, apparently first hand evidence that he enjoys a nice hard dick has achieved the opposite.My obsession has reawakened and I’m literally fighting the urge to squee as I usher him out of the door.
I over compensate when we hit the lift, standing so straight I look like I have a stick up my arse.The thing is, being alone with him feels dangerous, and not due to any potential threat from would-be love assassins or homophobic twats.Nah, I just don’t trust myself not to do something utterly foolish, like falling at his feet and offering to give him a far better blowjob than the one I just watched him enjoy.
Heat floods into my cheeks at the thought.Instantly, I’m hyper aware of his every movement, the scent of his aftershave and the heat of his body as he stands beside me.For every floor we descend, my feet move me an inch or so closer to him.
It’s for his protection, obviously.You never know who might be on the other side of those big metal doors when they open, and I’d never forgive myself if he were to wind up getting hurt because I was focussed on blowjobs and not the dangers lurking around us.
“What?”
“Oscar.The guy I was with.”
I dry the sweat from my palms on my thighs.“His name isn’t Oscar, it’s Ethan, but yes, while you were in the bathroom.No issues.Howard had already cleared and vetted him.”He’ll have a tail on him tonight, regardless.We’re all taking the threats on Dylan’s life seriously, even if he seems dismissive of them.
“He didn’t turn out to be the lunatic fan you’re hunting for?What a pity.That would have made things simple.You could have gone home early and put your feet up.”
“Then I’d have missed an evening of your scintillating company.”
His lips squash into a narrow line.His expression is guarded while he looks me over again “You realise the studio are blowing this whole thing out of proportion?”
“Providing you with a close protection officer post threats to end your life would seem to be a sensible move.”
“I live in the public eye.I get unsolicited fan-mail all the time, Miss Carter-Wells…Wells.It’s a bit of a mouthful, isn’t it?I don’t see why my reaction on this occasion should be any different to normal.The notes that have the studio in a tizzy aren’t any more extreme or fanciful than the stuff that arrives every other day of the week.This is simply an excuse to keep tabs on me.”
“You get death threats all the time?”
His eyes narrow to slits, making his expression seem far more guarded.“Not exactly, but I’m no stranger to receiving bizarre, and toe-curling notes.”
“But they aren’t threatening to put you six feet under.”
“Not directly.But nor were the notes that have Hyde & Le Strange Studios up in arms either.The writer simply elaborated on how they’d like to cut me up and spill my blood.”
