Page 226 of Wicked Angel
“Danica will be in the editorial images, as planned,” I went on, “but Ash and Matt are now going to be in them with her. The idea is we have the guys on either side of her, both of them with their shirts off, and wearing her jewelry. It’s going to be so fucking hot.”
“You think the world’s ready for that?” Johnny said thoughtfully, as he opened the door for me and we stepped out into the evening light of the back alley, but I knew he was kinda teasing.
“Hey, the world is changing. My client can be photographed with both of her men and speak freely about her relationship with them. The magazines we’ve pitched to are loving it. Honestly, they’re probablyallgonna run a feature on her. You throw a couple of hot rock stars into the bargain and go figure…” I teased him right back, “people are all salivating to snap up the story.”
“I’m sure,” he said mildly. We’d stopped walking and he’d encircled me with his arms.
“I love my job,” I gushed. “I have no idea why I didn’t realize earlier in life that I’d be a fabulous publicist. I love talking up my clients to the world and cheering them on.”
“You are good at tooting horns,” he said darkly, and I felt the heat in his body pressed against mine.
“If that was a blowjob reference,” I said smartly, “I thank you.”
He kissed me in answer, deeply and thoroughly. But just as I was really getting into it, my hands roaming down to his tight ass, he stopped.
“You know,” he mused, “one day, you’ll be the queenmaker in this town.” He smirked at me and I grinned, smacking his chest lightly, because he was teasing me. I’d told him long ago about the whole conversation I’d had with Danielle Duke when she dismissed me. And the result? He’d never let me forget it. Until I’d dethroned Danielle in that regard, he wouldn’t let it rest. To say he detested the woman because of how she’d treated me would be an understatement.
But he was also super proud of me. Because I was making it there, bit by bit. I was nowhere near Danielle Duke’s level in my career. But I’d get there.
“One day,” I agreed, smiling up at him. “I’ll get there. One queen at a time.”
“I know you will.”
I took a deep breath, absorbing his words. His belief in me was so… empowering. It was intoxicating, like a super drug. A triple shot of caffeine. Pure gasoline beneath my wings.
But his belief in me had also helped me to see that I probably had what it took to make it all along; I just didn’t recognize it. I was no longer living in my sister’s shadow. It was a long shadow, but I was the one who chose to keep myself tucked safely under it.
Maybe I just had to find the right person to help bring out the best in me. Someone to believe in me. Someone to believe in. I needed that collaboration; someone to cheer on.
I wasn’t like Johnny. I wasn’t a solo artist.
“But you know,” I told him, “along the way, working with a king isn’t bad.”
“Ah, you say the sweetest things,” he teased me, but I knew how it floored him when I praised him. His eyes flared with desire. Because he knew I really meant it. My love was an aphrodisiac for him, a healing balm and a powerful turn-on. Just like his love was a power source for me, an electric charge. It lit me up and sustained me, and it helped me to grow.
He kissed me again, deep and slow, until my toes curled. My fingers curled into his waist, just like that night he’d first kissed me. When he drew back and smiled at me, a wry and raw kind of smile, I knew he was probably remembering that, too. How I’d clung to him that night, for just a few moments.
“Thank you for kissing me,” I whispered.
He chuckled softly. “You really don’t have to thank me. It’s my pleasure.”
“I meant… back then. That very first time.”
He kissed me again. Then he slid an arm around my shoulders, steering me away from the studio. And that’s when I saw the freaking limo.
It was a black stretch limo, parked along the alley. Lamar was leaning casually against it, on the far side, obviously trying not to eavesdrop. His head was tilted down, like he was reading.
“Johnny! What’s with the limo?” We were heading over to North Vancouver tonight, to a party at Brody Mason’s house. It was Zane Traynor’s birthday, and since Dirty and the Players were home from the road, there was a big birthday party. But I’d expected Lamar to pick us up in his SUV.
Johnny shrugged. “Why not ride in style?” We walked over to the limo and Lamar mobilized to open the door for us.
“You first,” I told my boyfriend sweetly.
He gave me a suspicious look, then slid into the limo.
“Do you take song requests?” I asked Lamar quietly.
“From you, Angie,” he said, “anytime.”
