Page 31 of Trick
My phone chimed with a reminder that my booth session was about to start.
“I’d better be going,” I said, gesturing down the hall where the individual sound booths were located.
“Have a good session. I’ll see you around,” he replied, his usual wide smile dimmed a little with regret and disappointment. I felt like I’d kicked a puppy, but as handsome and sweet as Dustin was, I knew it wouldn’t take long for him to find someone new – someone who would give him the attention he deserved.
I spent the next few hours recording some particularly steamy passages. I’d become immune to the effect they had on me, for the most part, but today they stirred a restless feeling inside.
“I need to get laid,” I thought as I exited the studio late in the afternoon. My mind immediately flashed to a certain tall, sexy-as-hell biker, and I heaved a frustrated sigh.
Elvis greeted me when I walked through my front door, winding himself around my feet as I tried to shuffle into the kitchen without tripping over him.
“If you want to eat, I’d suggest you quit trying to kill me before I get to your food bowl,” I scolded him.
He meowed loudly in return, then abruptly turned and trotted into the kitchen with his tail stuck in the air, making it clear that he was the king of the house, and I was the lowly peasant meant to serve him – and failing quite miserably at the job as far as he was concerned.
After feeding my demanding feline, I wasn’t hungry for dinner yet, so I sat down on the couch to relax for a bit. I pulled out my phone and scrolled through one of the news sites, getting depressed over the state of the world after just a few minutes. There was only so much murder, mayhem, and threats of doom I could take.
I logged into my email accounts, clicking on my personal account first. I waded through the usual digital coupons to sites I’d never visited, advertisements for stores I had no interest in, and offers to extend my car’s warranty, aggravated as always about the spam that continually found its way into my inbox, despite my filter settings.
My finger paused as another email fromYour Soulmatecaught my eye, and I noticed it had only been sent twenty minutes ago. The subject line this time read “You should have listened.” Like before, there was no attachment, so I only hesitated for a second before clicking on it.
“I warned you to stop trying to make me jealous! You’re mine, and you’ll be sorry when someone gets hurt.”
Fucking Beau! What the hell was wrong with him? He’d pestered me since the day I had broken up with him, but this was taking things too damned far. Maybe I should take Uncle Bill up on his offer to go to Pittsburgh and kick his ass.
My phone rang, the sudden sound startling me so much I almost dropped it.Unknown Callerflashed on the screen.
“That sonofabitch…” I seethed, stabbing the button to answer it, ready to rip Beau a new asshole for sending that email.
“You have some kind of nerve threatening me, you goddamned-”
“Who the fuck is threatening you, Lauren?” The low, growly voice demanding an answer was definitelynotBeau.
“Uh, who is this?” I asked hesitantly, even though I had a feeling I knew exactly who it was.
“It’s Trick. Now, what the fuck is going on? Are you OK?”
“I’m fine,” I assured him, touched by the concern in his tone. “Sorry, I thought it was my ex calling again”
“That motherfucker threatened you?” His voice rose, and I could almostfeelhis anger vibrating through the phone.
“It’s nothing. He sent me an email, and I got it right before you called. I just overreacted.”
“Are you home now?”
“Yes, why?”
“Lock the doors and set your alarm. I’m on my way.”
“You don’t need…” My voice trailed off as I realized the call had ended.
“Well, shit,” I muttered to myself, dropping my head in defeat.
Ten minutes later I heard the unmistakable rumble of a Harley pulling into the driveway. I sighed as I got up and opened the door, watching as Trick jumped off his bike and yanked off his helmet, slinging it onto the handlebars before he charged up to the house.
He stalked across the threshold without waiting for an invitation, slamming the door behind him. The noise must have scared Elvis, because he abandoned his food bowl and darted out of the kitchen, then disappeared down the hall leading to the bedrooms.
Trick reached for me, cupping my chin as he tipped my head up to see my face. His gaze roved over me, as if making sure I hadn’t been harmed. He was apparently satisfied with what he saw, because he released my chin, then took my hand and led me to the couch.
