Final Call (The Call #2) (15 page)

He takes my mouth in a
raw and heartfelt kiss I feel right down to my toes. They curl in
my shoes, and the tears sneak from my eyes and down my cheeks.

Aaron pulls back and
wipes them from my face. “Every time I kiss you, I taste the rest
of my life. I won’t stop fighting for you until you taste yours,
too.”

I wrap my arms around
his waist and bury my face into his chest. He envelopes me in his
arms, holding me against him in a desperate way. He lets out a
long, shuddery breath that snakes across my neck and leaves goose
bumps in its wake.

I taste it,
I
want to say. I’ve tasted it since the moment he first kissed me.
Every brush, every tease, every deep, probing kiss and sweep of his
tongue through my mouth has been filled with the taste of forever.
I feel it in his touch and see it in his eyes.

In the same way I wish
he could tell me that he loves me, I wish I could tell him
everything.

Chapter
Thirteen

“Dayton? Are you ready
to go?” Tyler’s voice echoes through the house, and I grab my
coffee mug.

“Hold on.” I down the
rest of the mug in one gulp and leave it on the counter. I’ll clean
it up later. I grab my purse from the table and meet him in the
hallway. “Ready.”

“Come on. I’m already
late.”

“Hot date last
night?”

“More like animalistic.
She was a dream.” Tyler leads to me an Audi R8 and presses a button
on the keys. “In you get.”

“This is your car?”

“Nah. I stopped by the
dealership this morning and stole it.” He opens his door and stares
at me. My lips twitch up on one corner, and I get in the
passenger’s side.

“It’s gorgeous.”

“It gets me laid.”

“I have no doubt.”

I sit almost stiffly.
I’ve never been in a car so expensive or…pretty.

“She won’t blow up if
you sit back or actually touch the seat, you know.” Tyler smirks.
“I guess you haven’t seen Aaron’s baby.”

“I didn’t even know he
had a car in his possession. He’s driven everywhere.”

He laughs. “That’s
because my cousin is a particular bastard who won’t let anyone
touch his Ferrari. I could count on one hand the amount of times
he’s driven that.”

What?
“He has a
fucking Ferrari?”

“A 458 Italia. Boyhood
dream car.”

“Even I know what car
that is.”

“His apartment block
has an underground garage. There’s a private section for his
apartment, and it’s under lock and key. Make him show you when you
get back. Then, for the love of bloody God, please drag your finger
across it.”

“Why?”

He sighs. “Because
getting it dirty is my fucking dream, and you’re the only person
that could touch it and get away with it. He’d kick my ass.”

“He’d kick mine too, no
doubt.”

“He wouldn’t.”

“How are you so sure?”
I twist and look at him.

Tyler flashes a card to
a security guard and drives into an underground parking lot. “I see
how he looks at you. He never looked at Trouty that way.”

“Trouty?”

We pull up, and Tyler
cuts the engine. “Yeah. Naomi. You know, those lips? It’s a trout
pout.”

I think back to the
last time I saw her. Anger builds in me again, but I somehow fight
it down along with the sliver of fear tingeing the edges.

“I suppose you’re
right. She does rock the fish face a little.”

Tyler winks and places
his hand on my upper back, leading me into an elevator. “I’m pretty
sure there’s an Anti-Trout group in this building. I’m even more
certain Aaron is the president.”

I cover my mouth with
my hand. “No, that would be his mom.”

Tyler laughs loudly.
“Oh, Aunt Carly. Yes, she’d be the founder.” He sobers when he sees
the receptionist looking at him pointedly. “Don’t laugh. Don’t
speak. Don’t do fucking anything remotely human while she’s
around,” he whispers.

I frown but stay silent
as he leads me to the desk.

“Mr. Stone. I trust you
know where you’re going.”

“I do. Thank you,
Darla. Is Jenna here?”

“She’s waiting for
you.”

Tyler turns and takes
me to another elevator without responding. I feel the
receptionist’s eyes following both of us and burning into my back.
I turn, and her eyes are filled with annoyance and hatred.

“You fucked her, didn’t
you?”

Another laugh leaves
him. “How did you know that?”

“The sharp voice and
eyes that could kill might have given it away.”

“Damn. She was a clingy
bitch. I’m not into that shit.”

I raise my eyebrows at
his back, following him down a long corridor. “What are you, a sex
addict?”

He doesn’t answer, just
pushes open a door and hits me with a shit-eating grin that answers
my question. I don’t believe he and Aaron could be any more
different if they tried.

“Sit over here on the
sofa,” Tyler directs me. “This is a boudoir and lingerie shoot, so
we’ll be using the bed and the window.” He points to the large
window that overlooks London. I peek out as I walk past, noticing
Big Ben standing tall across the river, and take my seat on the
bright red sofa.

Tyler runs back and
forth across the room, adjusting lights and setting up his camera.
Other people run around as much as he does, and a girl with a
clipboard offers me a coffee. I accept and sit back in the plush
cushions, enjoying the anonymity. None of these people have any
idea who I am.

That stops the second a
tall, raven-haired girl walks into the room wrapped in a thick
robe.

“Who is that?” she
asks, pointing at me.

“Jenna, it’s lovely to
see you again.” Tyler kisses her cheek.

“Keep your charm in
your trousers, Tyler Stone. Who is the girl on the sofa?”

“That would be the
boss’s girlfriend.”

Jenna looks at me, and
I smile.

“Does that mean he’s
finally divorced from Naomi?”

Tyler nods.

Jenna sighs. “Thank god
for that. I couldn’t stand her. Coming into shoots and acting like
she was in charge because she was hot in America for, like, six
months. She thought she was Naomi
Campbell
or something.”
She snorts.

“See?” Tyler turns to
me. “She has her own little fan club.”

Jenna approaches me and
holds out her hand. “Jenna Kelly.”

I stand and shake her
hand. “Dayton Black.”

“You’re not here to
direct my shoot, are you?”

“No.” I laugh. “I’m
just watching. I won’t say a word.”

She nods and smiles
with nude lips. “Perfect.” She turns to Tyler. “Tyler Stone, stop
looking at my arse. You’re only entitled to do that through a
camera, you lecherous git.”

Something tells me that
Tyler Stone has a much, much bigger reputation than either he or
Aaron has let on.

***

Modeling is a funny
business, and it’s easy to see where the incessant bitchiness comes
from. Unless you’re someone familiar with the jealous flicking of
eyes and thinning of lips, you wouldn’t notice the way the girls
tending to Jenna were looking at her.

I spent the majority of
the shoot watching and wondering why they were looking at her that
way—until I realized. She’s beautiful, she’s confident, and she’s
not afraid to show it. It’s a lethal combination. A recipe for
jealousy and hatred.

“Dayton?” Tyler calls
through to me from the front room in a pained whine.

“What?” I reply,
strolling into the room. “What’s up?”

He sits back on his
heels and looks at me. “I have no fucking idea what I’m choosing
here.”

I look at the vast
spread of photos in front of him. “Why aren’t you doing this on the
computer? There’s what, one hundred photos here?”

“Hundred and
fourteen.”

“I thought you guys
only printed when you had them narrowed down.”

He sighs and leans
back. He winces when his ass hits the floor. “These are the
narrowed-down images.”

“Well, shit.”

“Mhmm. Be a love and
get me a beer.”

I raise my
eyebrows.

“Please.”

“That’s better.” I walk
into the kitchen and uncap a bottle for him. Damn, I might as well
get myself a glass of wine. I know I’m going to be kneeling on that
floor for fuck knows how long.

I pour mine and stroll
back into the front room. Tyler has his laptop open on the sofa
now, music pouring softly from the speakers. I hand him the beer
and sit next to him, adjusting my sweatpants as I do.

“Jenna is the best and
worst kind of model to work with. It’s impossible to pick her final
images because they’re so fucking good.”

“And you have a crush
on her.”

“I’m not denying I’d
love to rip these blue panties off her. Fuck me.” He shoves a
picture in my face. “Seen this, Day? She’s sexy as shit.”

I snatch the photo and
throw it onto the floor. “Focus, you douche. Thinking about having
sex with your model isn’t going to help you in this situation.”

Tyler shifts. “You’re
right. Help me.”

“Fine.” I sift through
the photos with him.

He’s right. Jenna is
beautiful, although not in a classical way. Her nose is a little on
the large side, her eyes may be too wide for her face, and her
forehead is a little small, but combined with her porcelain skin,
naturally pouty lips, and black hair, it works.

She also oozes sex and
temptation. Sultry looks beneath her lashes, lips parted just the
right amount, her back arched perfectly.

No wonder Tyler wants
to fuck her.

“How do you do this
job? In front of girls like this, dressed like this, and stay
sane?” My eyes find his brown ones.

He looks at me
seriously. “I wank a lot.”

“Wank?”

“I spend an unhealthy
amount of time in my room getting myself off.”

I stop and stare at
him.
Shit. Is he serious?

He is. He fucking
is.

“Way too much
information, Ty.”

“You asked.” He
shrugs.

“I’m sorry, how old are
you again? Was it twenty-six or sixteen?”

“Twenty-six with the
sexual temperament of a sixteen-year-old.”

I asked for that,
really. I shake my head and filter through the last of the
pictures, handing a small stack to him. He takes them and flicks
through him.

“Thanks. You’re amazing
at this. Ever thought of working in Stone?”

I push up onto the
sofa, wine glass in hand, and sit back with a groan. “Not you,
too.”

Tyler holds up a finger
and packs the photos away. He puts his laptop on the floor between
us, grabs his beer, and sits at the other end of the sofa. “Aaron
being a pushy knob again?”

“If by ‘knob’ you mean
‘asshole,’ then kind of. He wants me to model for them.”

He looks at me like I’m
crazy. “What’s the problem? I saw your pictures. You have it,
Dayton.”

I shake my head and
tell him what I explained to Aaron last night. I won’t ride his
coattails. I won’t be somebody just because I have the easy road
in.

Tyler stares at me for
a long moment. “Would you let me shoot you?”

“What?”

“Hear me out.” He holds
up a hand. “And fuck, don’t tell Aaron. You want to do it by
yourself—let me shoot you. I’ll compile your portfolio and send it
to some agencies in Seattle.” He shrugs like it’s so simple. And it
is. If you’re not dating the CEO of Stone Advertising and
Modeling.

“He’d kill both of us.
I don’t know if I could.”

“Think about it, all
right? You’re here for another week, so don’t dismiss it just yet.
One of the upstairs rooms is a studio.”

I can’t help the way my
lips tug to one side. “I don’t think I want to ask.”

“I’ll clean through
before you use it.” He winks and takes a drink. “Will you think
about it?”

Because it wouldn’t be
awkward or anything. For some reason, though, I find myself nodding
in agreement. I find myself promising that I will.

“Great. Now you can
tell me what had you spacing out last night at dinner.”

I look away. “I have no
idea what you’re talking about.”

“And why you freeze
every time someone says Naomi’s name.”

I say nothing.

“I’m a photographer,
Dayton.
Body
is my second language.”

“I don’t like her.
Would you?” I turn back to him, a Mia-mask on my face. Unaffected.
Not caring. “She’s Aaron’s ex-wife and, by all accounts, a total
bitch. That’s all there is to it.”

“You’re a bloody awful
liar.”

“I’m not lying.”

Tyler shrugs a shoulder
and grabs the remote. “Suit yourself, love. Don’t forget I know
her. She’s more than just a bitch on steroids. She’s a bitch on
crack.”

He flicks the top of
his laptop down with his foot and turns on the TV. Some English
drama I don’t know blares out, and I stare blankly at the
screen.

I can’t tell him. I
could ignore him now, watch this stupid show where they drop half
of their letters when they speak, and let the evening pass by until
Aaron returns from a late meeting.

But I don’t want to.
It’s barely been a week and already it’s eating me from the inside
out. My conversation with Naomi is burning away at me. The guilt is
going to coil tighter and tighter in my stomach until I’m sure
it’ll unwind, taking everything else I have with it, and I won’t
just admit the secret. I’m afraid it’ll go so far that the only way
I’ll be able to get it out will be by screaming it until my throat
is raw.

“She came to my house
last week.” I rub my thumb across my top lip harshly, looking
everywhere but at Tyler. “She knows…something about me not many
people do. I don’t know how she does, but she does. She’s not happy
with the divorce settlement, and she’s using that against me.”

“She’s blackmailing
you?”