Shades of Sexy (13 page)

“Hold it right there,” Josh told her from the staircase, a few yards away. Then he snapped a picture.

Hey! That was his camera, or more accurately, it was the Weekly Tattletale’s. His heart pounded furiously and his mouth was suddenly dry as a sauna. Did neither of them wonder why he had a camera with him? “What are you doing?”

Marin gave him a welcoming smile. “Just playing around. I hope you don’t mind. I sort of pilfered some of your things.”

Shards of pain stabbed at his temples. How could he fault her for going into his room when they’d been living like gypsies since they’d arrived here, sleeping in each other’s rooms, sharing toothpaste and showers and anything else they wanted. His gut tightened as he watched Josh snap more photos of her, pictures that would sell for hundreds of thousands of dollars in the media arena. And she trusted them so much she was just letting him.

Stomach roiling, he marched over to Josh and snatched the camera out of his hands.

“Hey!” Josh complained.

Tony raked his fingers through his hair. “It’s my…mom’s, okay? And it’s really expensive. She’ll murder me if anything happens to it.”

Josh held up his hands in surrender. “Sorry. No harm meant.”

He shrugged off the apology. “No problem.” He couldn’t look at Marin, not now. “I’m going for a walk.” Slinging the camera around his neck, he marched past Josh, took the steps two at a time.

Outside, the sun hung low in the sky. He pulled his cell from his pocket and turned it on as he walked away from the house. When he played his first message, he cringed at the sound of his boss’s voice.

“It’s Les, Tony. Where the hell are you? I hope to God you found Marin and got a story or better yet, some photos. Call me.”

Swallowing hard, he hit the autodial key. Les answered on the first ring. “Tony, I’m on pins and needles here. Give me some good news.”

He glanced toward the house and his chest tightened. “Sorry, Les. I tracked her to Cancun, but she got away from me. I’ve been trying for days to find her, but the trail’s gone cold.”

“Son of a bitch. You told me you had this one in the bag.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. But listen. Since I’m already here, I’m going to take my vacation now. I’ll pay for the flights myself.”

Les started to balk, but Tony refused to listen. “What’s that? Huh? Listen, you’re breaking up. Signal sucks here.” He hung up and turned off the phone, stashed it back in his pocket.

He glanced down at the camera hanging around his neck. Gritting his teeth, he switched it on. One by one, he deleted all the photos.  “I must be a total idiot.” He’d just thrown away a fortune and a chance to jump to the top of the food chain. But he couldn’t do it to Marin. He’d never be able to hurt her like that.

“Screw it.” He headed back to the house. Stepping through the door, he heard voices coming from the kitchen. Swallowing back his apprehension, he entered the room.

“Hey.” Marin sat at the small table eating Italian ice as Josh fixed himself one of those God-awful protein shakes he’d brought with him.

“Hi.” He heaved a breath. “Sorry about my outburst a few minutes ago, guys.”

“No sweat, buddy.” Josh downed the shake in seconds. Setting the now empty glass on the counter, he slapped his chest. “I’m off for a shower.” Heavy footsteps charged up the stairs.

Tony reached across the table and took Marin’s hand in his. “I have to tell you something.”

Her pretty face clouded and her eyes grew bigger. “Something wrong?”

He dropped his gaze to the table. “Something you ought to know about me.”

“Okay.”

His gut swirled with apprehension, but he forced himself to continue. “I’m not really a body guard. I’m a reporter. For the Weekly Tattletale.”

She immediately pulled her hand back and folded her arms over her chest. Tears welled in her eyes.

Tony’s throat clenched with dread and regret. Hurting her cut straight through him. “Before you throw me out of here, I want you to know that I told my editor I never found you. But if you ask me to leave, I will. As if we never met. As if I never had the best time of my life with you.”

She pushed away from the table and stood, paced the small room. “How do I know you won’t sell me out?”

“All I can do is promise. I know my word probably doesn’t mean much to you right now, but it’s all I have. I don’t ever want to cause you pain again, baby. It’s tearing me in half to watch you suffer.”

She stopped pacing and met his stare. “I need some time to think.”

He prayed she’d forgive him. “I’ll abide by whatever you decide.”

* * * * *

One Year Later

Dressed all in white as a private duty nurse, Marin watched the driver open the trunk of the taxicab and lift out a wheelchair for her elderly charge. The large aide who’d traveled with them went around to the other side and helped the old man stand then settle into the wheelchair.

“Thank you,” the old man said with a shaky voice.

She opened her purse, peeled off fifty Belize dollars and handed them to the taxi driver. “Thank you so much.”

“Only a couple of cabs in Placencia.” He handed her a slip of paper with a handwritten number. “Call me when you want me to come and pick you up.”

“We’ll do that. Thank you.” She watched him get back into his car and waited until he’d driven away.

Beaming at both men, she ripped off the gray wig and flung it toward the beach. Then she opened her purse and reached inside for the leather cat-o-nine tails. “Who’s first?”

Tony threw the blanket off his legs and stood. “You are.” He shot a conspiratorial wink at Josh.

She kicked off her shoes, dropped her bag and started running toward the house. Both men followed. Stripping as she went, she searched the house for the extra-large shower the website had promised. She’d already started the water running before Tony came into the room, naked, just like her. Josh joined them moments later.

Just looking at her two companions, imagining the fun that lay ahead for the next couple weeks, her pussy grew slick with need.

Josh stepped under the water first, pulled her back against his massive chest and reached around her to cup her breasts, rasp calloused fingers over her erect peaks. Tony stood in front of her, his beautiful cock already heavy with need. She pushed her fingers into her folds, separated her lips, already ready to receive Tony’s full length. Desire flared inside her, higher and higher. Her whole body shook with yearning.

A deep growl rumbled in his throat as Tony rolled a condom over his cock. With a randy smile, he came closer, murmured something to Josh. The giant lifted her off the floor and Tony impaled her with his granite cock, filling her deepest recesses with a mighty thrust.

“I’ve missed you two all year.” She let her head lean back, resting against Josh’s muscle-bound chest. A satisfied scream broke from her lips as Josh kneaded her breasts, pushed his huge cock against her back. There was always more to come with these two. The pleasure never ended. For hours they played, teased and touched. When they finally stopped, it was to quench their thirst and feed their hunger, not because they’d run out of steam.

Marin lay back on the bed beside Tony, knowing they’d spend every day soaking up hedonistic pleasures. She glanced around for her other man. “Where’s Josh?”

“He went to open a bottle of champagne,” he told her as he sat up in the king size bed.

“Good.” She wrapped her arms around his waist, glad she’d managed to forgive him for his deception.

He closed her in a strong embrace, kissed her sweetly and she drank in his familiar taste and smell.

Josh came in carrying a tray with three glasses of champagne and set it on the nightstand. He handed them each a flute, raised his for a toast. “To the best damn two weeks of the year.”

Rude, Nude and Socially Unacceptable

Chapter One

“I swear to god, his thing was this freaking big.” The woman with the spiked red hair held up a tall bottle of hairspray to illustrate her point.

“Oh, come on,” someone said from the back of the salon.

“I’m serious,” spiked hair said. “The man is hung like a damn horse.”

April Conway gritted her teeth at the rude conversation. If she were the owner, she’d put an end to such nasty talk, but Devon just sat at her nail table filing her client’s nails.

No, that wasn’t fair. Devon had no control over the caliber of the clientele. In the two months since April had moved to Miami and started working at Salon on the Avenue, she’d seen women and men from all walks of life come through the door. Loads of them.

Each of the four hairdressers and two nail techs were booked solid nearly every day. Well, except her, of course, but she’d only had her barber’s license a few months. Devon kept telling her that building her customer base would take at least a year. But if she didn’t start earning something soon, she wouldn’t be able to pay the rent on her apartment. She couldn’t afford to be picky about whose hair she cut. As long as they paid, she’d have to give them service. No reason she couldn’t tune out the salacious parts of the conversations.

People in Miami were certainly a lot more open about their sex lives than anyone she’d ever dealt with in Oakville. But the only employment available in the tiny North Florida town were low paying, back-breaking farm jobs.

As much as she loved her little hometown, her daddy had been right.

Ain’t nothin’ here for a smart, pretty girl like you. The city is full of opportunity. But it’s also rampant with sin.

Then he’d switched into preacher mode and lectured her about avoiding the devil’s temptations. She always wondered why her three brothers never shared the brunt of his tirades. But being the only girl did have its advantages. She’d had three full time bodyguards at school and never wore a single hand-me-down, as most of her friends did. She always dressed in the latest fashion, as long as it conformed to her father’s conservative standards. Not that she didn’t miss her mother, she did. She’d forgiven Momma long before they learned she’d passed away.

Shoving the painful thought away, she rearranged the products at her station for the third time that morning. When the phone rang, she hurried to the reception desk to answer it. That was how she’d picked up two new clients just last week.

“Salon on the Avenue. How may I help you?”

But the caller wanted an appointment with Cassie. Dropping her shoulders, she wrote the name on the book. As she replaced the phone on the hook, the door chime sounded. She glanced up and gasped at the scruffy biker guy coming through.

Like the man Momma ran off with.

Her gut roiled. She pasted on a smile as he approached the desk. His brown hair hung past his shoulders and his scraggly beard made him look like a member of that eighties band with those three scary looking members—ZZ something.

He carried a helmet under his arm and wore a T-shirt that might have been black in a former life. His jeans were ripped at the knees and his leather boots had definitely seen better days. “G’morning.”

She couldn’t even tell if he was smiling or frowning under all that facial hair. Either way, his presence alone gave her a headache. “Good morning. What can I do for you?”

“Fix me up.”

She narrowed her gaze. What exactly did he mean by that? “Have you been here before?” She seriously doubted he had. The man didn’t look like he’d been anywhere near a pair of shears or a razor for many years.

“No, ma’am. But I need a haircut. And a shave.” His gaze slid over her and his eyes narrowed to slits. “Can you do it?”

She gulped. Why couldn’t he be something other than a biker? Anything else. Beside, where would she begin on a hairy mess like him? One of the more experienced hairdressers should handle this. Most of the other operators had been at this for years. She was the only one who was fresh out of school. She checked the appointment book, but everyone else was booked the rest of the day. “Well, I…I…” How could she get out of this?

Devon came over and glanced down at the schedule. “When my next client gets here, tell her I’ll be right back, would you? I have to grab a bite or I’ll pass out.”

“Um, sure.”

“Everything okay?” Devon said.

“Yeah. This gentleman would like a haircut and a shave.”

Devon gave her a blank stare. “You can handle that.” She grinned at the biker. “April’s the only barber in the place. She’s just the woman for the job.” She patted April’s shoulder then nudged her away. “Time is money,” she murmured under her breath.

Right—money. April had to deal with the man. Didn’t matter that he was a biker. She didn’t have the option to refuse any clients. She could handle it. For heaven’s sake, she’d run a house full of men and boys from the time she was ten. Certainly she could give one scruffy biker a cut and shave. Wasn’t like he was the man Momma had run off with. “Right this way, sir.”

He set his helmet on the counter. “Ready when you are.”

Forcing a smile, she led him to the sinks and draped a cape over his shoulders.

She had to admit, he smelled good, like pine trees. Not at all what she’d expected. He sat on the chair and she went to work, wetting and scrubbing his hair. “How much are we taking off?”

“Usually I know a lady’s name before I answer such a personal question.”

Her cheeks heated. “I’m April.”

“Pleasure to meet you, April. My name’s Nick.”

He sure had nice eyes, as blue as the ocean at South Beach.

Maybe the man who’d seduced Momma away from us had nice eyes too.

She toweled off his hair then led him to her station. “So, just a trim?”

“Hell no.”

She winced at his language. “I’d appreciate if you’d watch your mouth here. I don’t care for cursing.”

His brow lifted for a moment, then he grinned. “Excuse me, April. That was rude and no way to speak around a lady.” He cleared his throat. “I want all of it cut off. I need it short and professional. And I’d like you to get rid of the beard and moustache. Please.”

She eyed him. Were all bikers this polite? She’d never actually had a conversation with one before. She’d always assumed they’d be rude and mean. But since he wanted to look professional, perhaps he was giving up his biker lifestyle. “I think you’ll look a million times better without all this hair.”

He let out a chuckle and she feared he might get up and leave. And that was the last thing she wanted. Not only would the day be a total loss, but Devon would probably be angry if the man walked out now. “I didn’t mean to offend you,” she said.

“Takes more than that to offend me. In fact, I suspect I heard a compliment in there somewhere.”

She felt her face flush again. Grabbing a comb, she started removing the tangles from his hair. She glanced in the mirror and caught him staring at her reflection.

With those piercing eyes.

I am not attracted to a biker.

But she couldn’t condemn him just because he rode a motorcycle. That wouldn’t be fair. But she sure as heck didn’t want to feel that heat blooming in her belly.

Her pulse quickened. Tearing her gaze from the mirror, she traded the comb for her scissors and went to work, trimming and shaping. He had great hair, soft and shiny with loads of body. When she’d finished the haircut, she turned him to face her then started on his beard and moustache.

“So what do you do, Nick?” She used her shears to trim his facial hair short enough so she could shave the rest.

“Besides search for pretty hairdressers to make a respectable man of me?”

Did he just call me pretty? No one but Daddy’s ever said anything like that before.

She managed a laugh. “Um, yeah.”

“I’m in the motorcycle business.”

Could he be involved in one of those outlaw gangs that cruised the highways looking for trouble?

A shiver rolled over her skin. She snipped at the whiskers growing from his upper lip. “You must get to travel a lot, hmm?”

“Nope. Not anymore. I stick pretty close to home. Do you like to travel?”

“Me?” She couldn’t hold back a snicker. Her father had only taken the family to neighboring towns with churches that had needed a fill-in preacher. “I’d love it. The furthest I’ve ever been is Georgia. Hold still now.” She spread shaving cream over his face. Did he know by time she was finished there was no way he’d look the part of a biker? Why did he want to suddenly clean up? She took her straight razor out of her drawer and carefully checked the blade.

His eyebrows shot higher. “You do know how to use that thing, right?”

“Of course.” In truth, she hadn’t done many shaves, but her barber teacher said she had a great technique.

His Adam’s apple slid up and down his throat. “Okay.” He leaned his head back and shut his eyes.

“The shop carries insurance anyway. Just in case I slice open a vein or something. No worries.” She couldn’t resist teasing him.

His eyes flew open. When he saw her smile, he laughed. “Not funny.”

As she removed the remnants of his beard and moustache, a surprisingly handsome man emerged.

Holy cow. He’s gorgeous.

Too bad the man didn’t have a lucrative job or he’d be almost irresistible.

To other women. She could never go for a biker. Daddy would ring her neck. She placed a hot towel over his face for a minute, then used a soft brush to clean away stray pieces of hair. After dusting his neck with powder, she removed the cape and turned him toward the mirror.

He stared at his reflection a long moment. “Hey, I remember him. Haven’t seen him for years.”

“You like it?”

He threw her a wink that heated her insides.

Behave. He’s all wrong for me.

“Now all I need is to figure out what kind of clothes to buy and I’ll be all set.”

She grabbed a broom and started sweeping away the hair from the floor. “For what?”

He drew a deep breath. “I have some important meetings coming up. I’m trying to raise the capital to expand my business. My stockbroker put me in touch with a group of investors but before they’ll agree to sink money into my company, I have to wow them.”

His stockbroker? Okay, so he had an actual business. And he was apparently smarter—and probably richer—than she’d guessed. Smart enough to know that a bunch of stuffed shirts would look at his old biker self and move on to a different deal. “Good luck. You look much more the part of the savvy businessman now.”

He stood up out of the chair and immediately found the dustpan. Crouching low, he held it for her.

“Thanks. We don’t expect our clients to help with the cleanup, though.”

He grinned up at her and her heart pounded double time. “But it’s my pleasure. This way I get to look at you a little longer.”

Her breath caught. She swept the rest of the hair into the pan and waited as he emptied it into the trash. “Th-that’ll be eighteen dollars, please.”

He took a silver money clip from his back pocket and peeled off a bill. “I enjoyed talking to you, April. You did a great job.” He handed her a fifty. “Keep the change.”

She didn’t want him to leave. Something about him captivated her.

Daddy would never approve of me dating a biker.

He stared deep into her eyes for several seconds and desire heated her blood. Then he turned and strode out of the salon. Out of her life forever. Her heart sank.

Hoping for a final glimpse of him, she crossed the salon to the reception desk and watched through the glass door as he climbed onto his motorcycle and rode away.

Devon joined her behind the counter. “Talk about Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.”

April crumpled into the desk chair and sighed. “Who knew such a handsome guy was hiding behind all that scruffiness?”

“There’s something really sexy about bikers. Don’t you think? They have that bad-boy thing going on.”

April whipped her head toward Devon. “I would never go out with someone like him. My father would kill me.” The few men she’d dated were straight-laced, upstanding members of the community. Her ex-fiancé Johnny was the son of the mayor of Oakville. Lot of good that strategy had done her. He’d turned out to be nothing but a lying, cheating jerk.

“Oh, come on.” Devon rolled her eyes. “Do you always do what your daddy would approve?”

Nearly always. “He raised me to do what’s right.”

“You’re hopeless, April.” She shook her head.

A sharply dressed Hispanic woman came in and Devon hurried to her and pulled her into a hug. “Hey, Marisol. How have you been?” She ushered the woman to her nail table.

Left alone at the desk, April thought about Nick. She shouldn’t even entertain the notion of dating a biker.

But she couldn’t get his amazing eyes and his polite, down-to-earth demeanor off her mind. Despite herself, she said a silent prayer that he’d return to the salon, soon.