Getting Tricky Read online

  “Uh huh,” she said, stroking his chest.

  Damn.

  She was just so… her, and his dick was having trouble remembering that they were in public. “What time are you meeting Say?”

  “Six,” she said.

  Six to ten, that was four hours. The guys could do a lot of damage in four hours. But he’d take the flak from them about his protectiveness and call every ten minutes if he had to. It wasn’t like he’d never been the butt of their teasing before; they’d all taken their turns being that. Trick was proud of his wife and his desire to keep her safe. “What time is it now?”

  “Almost three,” she said. “I thought I’d get a head start on a couple of things since we don’t know exactly what our schedule will be over the next two months.”

  Yeah, and he was supposed to be meeting his agent, but that wouldn’t be happening. “Yeah,” he said, pulling her up to her feet. “That will wait.”

  He towed her toward the back of the canteen. “Wait for what?” she asked.

  There was a staff door here that the majority of employees didn’t use. He didn’t use it because he didn’t usually use the canteen, but he knew the stairwell it led to because it led somewhere else. “Where are we going, Trick?” she asked when he pulled her through the door and started up the stairs.

  “You said you wanted to see my dressing room, right?”

  Exhaling a laugh, she tried to pull her hand away, but he kept hold of it and kept ascending. “Trick, we can’t, what if we get caught?”

  “Who cares?” he asked. “You think the world doesn’t know we’re together?” Keying in a code at the door to the right level, he pushed into the corridor and wound through the route he knew well. “It’s easier to find when you come at it from the other side.”

  “I won’t ever be coming here by myself,” she said.

  They pushed through a double door and he saw one of the Boys Night crew standing there reading from a clipboard. “Trick?” Cohen said.

  But Trick didn’t slow down. “You didn’t see me, man.”

  He winked and pulled Lyla through the door behind him. Cohen got a goofy smile on his face, either he liked the look of Lyla or he knew exactly where the couple was going.

  Tugging his key from his pocket, Trick rounded the corner to the door that had his last name on it.

  “Trick, this is a bad idea,” Lyla said, but she was smiling when he yanked her between him and the door.

  “Lookit,” he said, pointing to the label on the door. “What does that say?”

  Tipping her head back, she read the word. “Strickland.”

  “Right,” he said, ducking to kiss her jaw because he just couldn’t resist. “And I’m pretty sure that’s your name too. So, this here is our property and… there are no cameras in here, sweetheart. Alone. We’ll be alone… How sweet is that?”

  Kicking the door open, he shoved her inside and rushed forward to close it behind him. Turning the key in the lock again, he trapped them both inside before spinning around to pin his desire on his wife.

  Yeah, they were alone and without the cameras. They were going to take full advantage of the seclusion; he’d make sure of it.

  TWENTY-ONE

  The dressing room was large.

  There was a big desk with a mirror over it against the wall. Although there was a laptop on the desk, it was also covered with a bunch of other stuff, gifts and letters mostly, and food, all kinds of food.

  The door to the full-bathroom was located on that same wall and the bulk of the room was setup like a big living room. But there was a step up to a separate space in the corner that had a curtain open over it. The curtain was tied back against the wall when they arrived in the room, but Trick told her it could be closed.

  She didn’t get why she would want to close the curtain over a couch until he went over and opened it into a bed. Ah, it was a pull out couch! Above was a cabinet and he’d pulled out pillows and a blanket to spread on the bed. When it was made, Trick had sat down and patted the space beside him and she knew exactly what he had on his mind.

  He had a bed in the building!

  It felt so good to take advantage of the space when, for once, no one knew where they were or what they were doing. There was no pressure to be “on” they could just be them. Themselves, together, alone, no expectations.

  Sex without any chance of being interrupted made for an intense experience. Both of them could relax and explore each other, and they had, for she had no idea how long.

  After, they’d laid together for a while, but he’d got up to use the bathroom and left her alone to reflect on how her life had changed, and how his had now that he was a married man.

  “How many other women have you had sex with in this bed?” Lyla asked, spreading her legs to let one curl around the blanket that was strewn over her body.

  Trick had just come out of the bathroom and was over at the desk, picking through a fruit basket, in full naked glory. “Uh…” He turned around, his mouth full of grapes, and elevated his eyes to the ceiling to begin counting off on his fingers, seeming to go through a mental list.

  One finger, two, three, four. He moved onto the second hand and then back to the first. Still counting. Swallowing, she slowly sat up wishing she hadn’t asked and was about to say that when he set her in his sights.

  “Yeah… none.”

  He returned to his fruit. “Really?” she asked, pulling her knee higher.

  “I know the man whore thing is a great joke,” he said, pulling a bunch of grapes off the main stalk. Bringing them back to the bed, he sat down beside her and pulled one off to pop it into her mouth. “But Kira’s the only woman I’ve been with in like three years.” Her chewing slowed until her jaw stopped altogether. “Well, Kira and you.”

  Uh huh, her… Sitting straighter, Lyla leaned over to put a hand on his chest. “Two women? In three years?”

  He nodded and tossed a grape into the air to catch it in his mouth. “Everyone forgets, I got my first show when I was eighteen. They painted me as the bad boy and back then, I was happy to play to it. No problem. I bounced around networks for a while, each played on the same kind of theme. I was… twenty-three when I first appeared with Green and Tate. Twenty-three, Ly, yeah, I was an idiot, I won’t deny it. We went to the opening of an envelope if there was an open bar and I fucked anything with a pulse. We had cash and we were adored. Anytime we walked in anywhere there was this cheer like the party had arrived, and we played to that. We all did… Everything was free, we ate for free, drank for free, got season tickets to every stadium, people threw stuff at us and the networks went wild trying to get us signed up for shows, so we cashed in, and that meant partying hard.”

  At twenty-three she was working her first job out of college, still getting over Declan, and thinking about getting a cat. Trick was living it large, sleeping around, drinking heavily, and living a life most people would envy at that age.

  “But that changed when you met Kira?” she asked.

  He held up the bunch of grapes to pick off a good one for her. “I was about… twenty-eight when things started to change. Josie was mugged about a block from where I was partying… I was too drunk to take the call.”

  “Josie? Your sister, Josie?” she asked.

  That must have been an awful thing to wake up to hear. His need to follow her after their argument made more sense now. Trick wouldn’t leave her vulnerable in the street because he probably still lived with the guilt over his sister’s mugging, he wouldn’t want more if anything happened to his wife.

  “She was ok, just shaken up, the guy didn’t hurt her. Thank God she just handed over her purse. But my dad called me the next day and ripped into me, I didn’t even remember what had happened. I was in bed with… someone. I didn’t even know where I was or what had happened. I felt like crap, but I thought if I partied harder I’d forget how much of a dick I was…. Then a few months later, I met Tanya…” He circled his lips in an oh; like just the mem
ory of her got him hot.

  “You fell in love with her?”

  He shook his head. “Not love, lust. I was infatuated with her, chased her all over the world. She went to Australia, so did I. She went to Japan, I was right there too. Almost lost everything for her. The guys tried to cover for me, but I was missing deadlines, skipping filming, really falling apart. Looking back, it was all an excuse; I just needed to get away from everything. I was done with the bullshit, shallow stuff and she made me think for a minute that maybe my life had some kind of meaning.”

  Learning about Trick was fascinating and his trust was humbling. “So where is she now? What happened?”

  “Kira happened,” he said. “Tanya was a model too, they moved in kinda the same circles. I only met Kira because of Tan. We all partied together… spent the night… together.”

  “Together? But… oh…” He spent the night with both of them. “A threesome?”

  He nodded. “We were a threesome for a while, everybody knew it. I thought I was it, you know? I mean, come on, I didn’t just have one model, I had two!”

  Sure, that was every guy’s ultimate fantasy. “So, what happened?”

  “Tanya left,” he said. “I was devastated. I’d only got with Kira because Tanya said she wanted it, least that’s what I said… but what guy would say no? Not a dumb idiot like me anyway. I followed Tan to Milan, told her she was it, told her we’d ditch Kira… I almost asked her to marry me… Almost, but I didn’t.”

  “Why not?”

  Inhaling, Trick tossed the grapes to the nightstand and turned around to lie on his back and lock his fingers behind his head as he focused on the ceiling. “She laughed at me. Told me I was a joke. I’d been dropped from every show, I was writing a column back then and that was my only source of income, my travels with my models across the world; that was all I had… The sad part? I didn’t even write most of it, I got one of the girls to do it for me. Tanya told it to me straight, I’d lost everything, ruined everything. I was sad, pathetic, washed up… And damnit… she was right.”

  “I’m sorry, honey,” Lyla said, spreading her hand on his stomach.

  He picked it up and when he pulled it to his mouth, she was forced to lie against him. But she didn’t mind giving him comfort if he needed it. With her breasts crushed against him, she kissed his chest and stroked her free hand up and down his torso.

  “No, she did me a favor. I came back home and buckled down. Made it up to the guys, begged the networks to take me back, and picked up the radio show. It was gradual, but I got it all back. It could’ve been worse, I’d been off the reservation for about a year, but I had to really prove my dedication to everyone, I had to work harder, and I did. I knew I couldn’t mess it up.”

  “And Kira?”

  “Showed up on my doorstep a while after I was home,” he said. “We talked, agreed to give it a shot.” And that lasted a couple of years before he found out she was cheating on him. “Since Milan, I’ve… I’ve just been going through the motions, I guess. I know what people expect, and I do it… But think about it, how many women have you seen me hit on…? Other than you?”

  None. Now that she thought about it. No, he didn’t make moves on women. Yes, he could make a correlation between any subject and sex. He said outrageous things and had no shame when it came to using sexual language and innuendo, but he didn’t sleaze on strangers.

  “Other than the kissing on our wedding night, I—” He exhaled a short, disgusted laugh and she brought her eyes to him to see he was glaring straight up at the ceiling. “Trick?”

  His eyes dropped to hers. “You didn’t think it was weird that they showed a montage? They didn’t show me moving in on any of those girls.”

  “They set the girls up?” she asked, but he shook his head as he smiled.

  “It was all old footage,” he said, “stuff from through the years or tabloid shots. If I’d been making out with women, I wouldn’t have waited for the camera to line up the perfectly angled shot, would I? Most clubs aren’t lit for picking up shots like that in the corners or in booths. It wasn’t tough for them to set it up. All they needed to do was make sure I was wearing the right kind of shirt in the footage, or no shirt, that my hair style wasn’t obviously different. They’ve got whole libraries of me and the guys doing stupid things.”

  “Oh my God,” she said, sitting up to gape down at him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “We did go to the club, for about an hour; some of the partying footage was real.”

  “But most of it…?”

  Shaking his head, he reached for her hand, but she took it away and moved off the end of the bed to crouch and pick up her panties. “Babe?” he asked, sitting up. “What’s wrong? I knew if I stayed at the reception, if I stayed with you, that they’d expect us to, you know… be together on our wedding night. We were strangers, I didn’t want to put you in that kind of position. I sure didn’t want to force myself on you. I didn’t know anything about you or if you’d have the confidence to say no even if you were against the idea of us sleeping together. Going to the club was a way of getting us both out of that situation. Baby? I didn’t kiss those women. I didn’t kiss anyone that night. The only person I’ve kissed since our wedding day, since we met, is you… Shouldn’t you be pleased?”

  “I am,” she said, but the burn of tears was making her sinuses sting. Her bra was down the stair, so she crawled forward and picked it up to pull it on. But her hands were shaking and tears were blurring her vision. Oh, she had to get out of here, fast. Where was her dress? And her stupid hair, why did it keep getting in her face? Why the hell had she worn it down? Sniffing, Lyla managed to hook her bra, but as soon as she let go of the strap, she knew that it was twisted. “Damnit.”

  Trick crouched beside her and when he tried to hook her hair away from her face, she curved away from him. “Baby?”

  “I’m fine,” she said, and unhooked her bra. Her fingers wouldn’t work and she couldn’t get the stupid thing untwisted. His fingers covered hers and she let her hands drop when he took over the task. Trick untwisted it and hooked the clasp again. “Thank you.” Her quiet words were almost a whisper.

  “Look at me, Malloy,” he murmured, his fingers combing through her hair, he tried to be subtler about turning her head.

  His touch was so soothing that she let her legs curl out from under her so she could sit on the stair. Lifting her head, her wet eyes rose to his. “Nairn,” she whispered.

  His expression became so pained that she lost her fight to contain the tears. “Oh, baby,” he said and put his arms around her to pull her to his chest.

  Her tears fell for more than a minute before she pushed back. Being in his arms felt so good that she could’ve stayed there all day, but the last thing he wanted was a crazy emotional person sitting on the floor of his dressing room.

  “I’m sorry,” she said and tried to brush the dampness from her face.

  “It’s ok,” he said, cupping her jaw to rub his thumbs back and forth on her cheeks. “I’m sorry I made you cry, baby. God, I’m a fucking idiot.”

  Gritting his teeth, he swore at himself with such hatred that she was infused with a need to console him. “No,” she said, moving up onto her knees. “It’s not…” Her chin wobbled and he exhaled another pant of pain. “I don’t know how you do it… How you let them do it to you… You’re just so… You’re this amazing guy, but you let the world think you’re this selfish, cocky, player, and you’re just not like that…”

  It took a minute, but his brows came slowly down over his eyes. “You’re… you’re crying for me? For me?”

  Pulling away, she began to stand up. “I’m stupid, I—”

  He yanked her so hard that she fell against his body, but he caught her in his arms. “I love you, Lyla Strickland,” he murmured and drove his hand into her hair behind her ear to pull her mouth to his.

  Every kiss they’d ever shared was intense, but this was something else. This was like an
exchange of souls. He kissed her so deeply as he lay down on the floor, taking her down on top of him before turning her onto her back where he continued his worship of her mouth.

  When her body was pulsing with the strength of her need and her tears were long forgotten, she let her head relax on the floor and spoke before he could kiss her again. “We’re out of condoms.”

  Grinning, he kissed her fast and hard before he leapt into a crouch and darted over to the desk to pick up a large tin. He brought it over and tossed it onto the bed before bending to scoop her up. He laid her on the bed so gently and kissed her again before reaching over her for the tin and popping open the lid.

  Inside there had to be five hundred condoms, and she gasped.

  Trick stayed on his side, his arm crooked over her shoulder to support his head, while she was on her back beneath him. “They’re something people like to send me,” he said, raking through the hoard. “We have just about every brand known to man in here, ribbed for your pleasure.” Picking up one, he put it on her stomach and then went back to the box to pull out another. “Glow in the dark.” He put that one beside the other and she laughed. “Blueberry flavor.” He picked that one out, scowled at it, and tossed it away over his shoulder. “Won’t ever need that one.”

  “Why would they need flavors?” she asked, putting her hand in the tin to rummage around.

  “Well,” he said and cleared his throat. “Sometimes a girl might like to—”

  “Oral,” she said and turned her head to smile at him. Lyla was surprised to see how heavy and happy his eyes were. Taking her hand from the tin, she touched his chest. “Would you like me to…”

  “Blow me?” he asked and she was sure her cheeks reddened as she rolled toward him to bury her face against him for a brief second.

  But she inhaled and relaxed to her back again. This was her man, and he didn’t have an ounce of shame… and she loved it. “I was never any good at… that.”

  “Who says?” he asked, dropping his fist from his temple to rub his thumb on her forehead. “I think if you so much as breathed on my dick I’d go off.”