Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 67320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
“And?”
“And he hit me,” I admitted. “He hit me and then told me that if I told my mother that, I’d live to regret it…but she might not. A part of me knew he was bluffing because, hell, people didn’t just kill each other over a stupid modeling job, but another part of me questioned just how far he would go to collect a hefty paycheck and keep his face in the spotlight. It’s always been about fame and fortune for him. Always. My mother, year after year, begged me to quit, but I refused because of what he’d done that one time. I lied and told her I enjoyed it. I lied to Sammie and Eli, too.” Feeling like an idiot now that I’d actually spoken the words out loud, I shrugged and said, “Anyway, it isn’t a horrible job. I make lots of money, get free clothes, and, if I’m lucky, get a hot bodyguard to stay by my side.”
Why? Why had I told him that? The whole father story made me look weak—unable to take care of myself. The minute I’d said it, I wanted to take it back.
For a few minutes, he was deathly quiet, then he said, “You deserve better, Micah; so much better.”
*****
Landon
The remainder of the trip back to the hotel had been quiet, which worried me. Micah was never quiet. Quiet Micah made me sad. Damnit, the young man who’d shared a tiny portion of his childhood made me sad. No, it made me mad. How fucking dare that man raise his hand to his child just because he was a greedy son of a bitch and was afraid his gravy train was about to end? The next time I saw him, I wouldn’t be responsible for what might happen between us.
The driver pulled to the front of the hotel and, just like Micah’s father had wanted when he gave his little interview, there were paparazzi everywhere, flashing their cameras and already screaming at Micah before I even opened the door. I looked over at him and he seemed genuinely unimpressed or worried by the circus going on outside the car. “Are you okay?” I asked, amazed at his calmness. I was ready to kill someone…anyone that touched him.
“I’m fine; sometimes it gets like this. They’ll bother me until some other poor soul does something to get their attention. Then, they’ll be circling them like sharks instead of bothering us. Don’t worry about it. It’ll be fine, Landon. I’ve done this hundreds of times.”
I was worried about it. There was a chance it might not be fine, and I’d only done this once…with somebody I cared about. “Stay as close to me as you can and don’t say a word,” I ordered, as if he didn’t already know the rules.
Fifteen minutes later, we’d endured the gauntlet of media and were safely tucked on an elevator leading to our room. My nerves were shot. Micah was calm, like the professional he was. As the hotel dinged past each floor, I said, “I quit this job last night. You’re no longer my client.”
“Huh? What? You can’t do that! We have a contract, Landon!”
Fuck, I’d handled that wrong. He sounded hurt and I couldn’t have that. “Doesn’t mean I’m going anywhere, I just wanted it to be the two of us, on even ground instead of client and bodyguard—just man to man.” The elevator doors slid open and I stepped outside to check the hallway. After giving him the all-clear, he followed me toward our room.
“Oh…okay,” he answered. “That’s okay. I kind of like that better.”
“Me too.” I let us into the room and checked each and every nook and cranny of the hotel suite. Once it was deemed safe, I let my mind process everything that had happened that day, every touch, every word that passed between us. This morning, after our little bedroom romp, I wanted nothing more in this world than to get him back home after his day and fuck him until he was unconscious with pleasure. Things had changed, though. Serious things. I no longer wanted to fuck him.
I wanted to make love to him.
Shit…it was bad. I knew exactly what it meant. I’d moved from a physical crush to really caring about him. That should scare the shit out of me, but when the tremors started to race through my body, I pushed them down by remembering how brave my boy was. He’d lived a fucked-up life and still turned out to be perfect. He was brave and willing to risk everything, even his heart.
If he was, then so was I.
I sat down on the sofa and motioned for him to come to me. He did, his eyes locked with mine. The beautiful blue was brighter than usual but even more than that, he looked at me with trust to go along with his lust. Right then, I vowed to never do anything to abuse that trust.