Until We Burn (Beautifully Broken #2.5)

Until We Burn (Beautifully Broken #2.5) Page 7

It’s a win-win situation.

This is how I stay, winning in my little dark corner, drinking glasses of whiskey, until Tally arrives. He knows just where to hunt for me, his gaze scanning the perimeter of the party as he steps inside the suite.

He knows he’ll always find me in the shadows.

“Where’s Amy?” he asks, dropping into the seat across from me and motioning for a waiter to bring him a drink.

“Somewhere with Tara Linwood,” I answer. I glance around, but don’t see her.

Tally shakes his head. “You’re not going to be happy about this. But. The studio doesn’t want you to end things with her. It’s good for the film if people think you’re dating. They want to see an onscreen couple who is actually dating in real life. If you’re still thinking of breaking up with her, don’t.”

I stare at him, my hard gaze icy.

“I do what I want. I don’t let the studio dictate to me who I date and who I don’t. I’ve never been that way and I never will be.”

Tally sighs. “I knew you were going to say that. You and your brothers are the stubbornest sons-of-bitches I know.”

The corner of my mouth tilts up, just a bit.

“Well good. I’m glad you know where I stand.”

“But you’ll still have to pretend that you’re together,” Tally tells me firmly, pressing another drink into my hand. “And if you can’t stomach that, then you’ll have to figure out a way to make her end things with you. Let her be the one to bring the studio’s wrath down on her head. Not you.”

I can’t help but chuckle a little. “I’m sure I could find a few ways to piss her off.”

Tally levels a gaze at me. “But not anything obvious. You can‘t be seen as a dickhead, either. Always, always always…. Keep your public persona forefront in your mind. You are mysterious. You are sexy. You are a gentleman. You are private. All of these things are fine. Maintain that image. Do not appear to be a dickhead. Got it?”

I nod. “I can do that. Besides, she already gave me an ultimatum. Sleep with her tonight, or we’re done.”

Tally raises an incredulous eyebrow. “You haven’t slept with her yet? What the fuck? Are you made of stone?”

Before I answer, we both look up to see Amy and Tara stumbling from the bathroom together. Amy’s nose is red, a sure sign that they were snorting coke. I personally know it’s one of the ways she stays so slim. They’re both stumbling, a sure sign that they’re drunk, as well.

An idea forms, hard and fast.

A brilliant idea.

No one puts Dominic Kinkaide in a corner. No one gives me ultimatums and expects to win.

I am not controlled.

Not now, not ever.

But first things first.

I watch Amy and Tara collapse into one big chair together, giggling and chattering as they furtively glance around the room. I know they’re probably cutting down everyone here. Both women are complete catty bitches.

They bore me.

So I motion to the young waitress, the girl who was starstruck earlier.

“Excuse me,” I say to her smoothly, putting my hand on her arm as she passes. She stares down at me, her green eyes wide.

“Yes?” she stutters.

“Where is the bathroom?” I ask politely, although I know perfectly well where it is.

She points in the direction. “Right there.”

“Could you possibly show me the way?” I ask, my voice as smooth as honey. “I don’t want to get lost.”

Her eyes widen as she realizes what my intentions probably are and then she smiles broadly. “Of course. I’d be happy to show you.”

She puts her tray down on the table in front of me, because she knows she won’t be needing it.

And then I lead her to the bathroom. Amy watches me in amusement from her chair, but she doesn’t get up or react. She knows me. She likes watching me with other women anyway.

In fact, a few minutes later as the waitress is kneeling in front of me, the doorknob jiggles and I hear Amy’s voice.

“Dom? I want to come in.”

Of course she does.

She wants to watch, because she’s as kinky as I am.

But instead of unlocking the door, I grasp the willing waitress’ hair, and guide her into deep-throating me, her lips forming a perfect wet vacuum around me.

“Not now, Amy. I’m a little preoccupied,” I call toward the closed door.

I can hear her bitching as she walks away.

It doesn’t matter. At the moment, all that matters is this blow job.

I’ll deal with Amy later.

But I will deal with her.

Chapter Seven

“You took long enough,” Amy whines when I finally come out of the bathroom and find her. She’s sitting with Tara on the veranda, in the darkened corner that I had recently vacated.

Tara looks up at me, her eyes glazed over in a drug-induced haze. I sigh, seeing only the talent that she’s getting ready to waste. I’ve seen it a hundred times. Actresses come into the industry, show so much promise and then self-implode on their way to the top. I can see right now Tara Linwood won’t last.

“I don’t rush,” I shrug my shoulders. “But I’m ready to go now.”

Amy lifts an eyebrow. “Oh, really? And where are you ready to go?”

I grin. “Someplace where the lights are red.”

Amy’s eyes widen as she realizes what I’m talking about. The infamous Red Light district in Amsterdam, where prostitution is legal and kink of any nature can be bought.

She grins. “You surprise me, Dom. I wouldn’t think that you’d risk getting seen someplace like that. You know the paparazzi are everywhere.”

I shake my head. “We’ll be careful. Are you in?”

She nods. “Of course. I’ll bring Tara.”

I glance at her friend, who is now leaning on Amy’s shoulder.

“Can she walk?” I ask dubiously. Amy scowls at Tara, before pushing her off her shoulder.

“We’ll find out.”

She yanks Tara to her feet and together, they stumble toward the door. I watch for just a second before shaking my head.

This is going to be too easy.

For one split moment, I almost feel guilty, but then I tamp that emotion down. Amy deserves no pity. I’ve seen her verbally lash stagehands into tears for such small offenses as not making sure her water was cold enough. Her heart is black and she deserves anything I give her….particularly since she thought she could control me.

Not gonna happen.

I follow them to a car and within minutes, we have arrived in the Red Light district of Amsterdam.

The streets are wet and dark as we walk down them, glancing into the windows that line the street. Women sit in rooms, waiting for customers, as the red lights flicker over their heads.

I meet the gaze of one woman, a pretty dark haired woman. Her eyes light up as she sees me and she grins, revealing yellowed teeth. I cringe.

Not gonna happen.

“Gross,” Amy scowls. “It looks like the city’s leftovers are here. Let’s go someplace else.”

She starts to turn around, but I catch a glimpse of another window down the street, one that houses two women. I put my hand on Amy’s arm.

“Wait.”

We walk a bit closer, then closer still, all the while, Amy is practically holding up Tara.

The two girls look like sisters, identical shoulder-length blonde hair, large green eyes, slip hips. They’re dressed in identical lingerie and are sitting in the same identical pose, perched atop two tall stools.

“Twins,” Amy breathes, turning to stare at me, her eyes widened. “Yes.”

I have to grin at the possibilities.

“Where are we?” Tara mumbles, her head rolling around on her neck like a broken bobble-head doll. I raise an eyebrow at Amy.

She scowls and slaps Tara’s face lightly, then harder. “Wake the fuck up, Tara,” she snaps. “You’ve got to grow up and learn how to handle your liquor better.”

I gaze at her. “I doubt that the liquor is her problem.”

Amy ignores my meaning and shakes Tara’s arm as we ring the bell next to the window. One of the girls comes forward and speaks through the speaker.

“Yes?”

“We want to hire you,” Amy says firmly. “Let us in.”

“Payment first,” the girl answers, just as firmly, holding Amy’s gaze. Amy frowns, but we do as requested, pushing our payment through a little window. After the transaction is complete, we’re buzzed in. I glance around the dingy hallway as we make our way to the door.

It opens immediately.

“Welcome,” the blond girl purrs now, motioning for us to come inside. Her sister is on the bed and the shades have been drawn.

“I’m Anika,” the standing girl says. “And that is Anna. We’re here to please you. What would you like?”

Amy shoves Tara onto the bed and then pulls at me, but I stand fast.

“I’m going to watch,” I tell Anika. “So I’d like the four of you to give me something interesting to see.”

Anika eyes Tara skeptically. “Well, three of us can do that,” she finally answers. But Tara is scowling again.

“What the fuck, Dom?” she demands. “You’re not going to watch. You’re here to participate.”