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“If she’d applied for a job at CB when I was there, I wouldn’t have thrown her application away.” And that’s the only answer Z’s getting out of me on this subject.

He nods. Guess he was dying to have my opinion.

More moans and giggles drift out of the bedroom and Z taps my shoulder. “You care if I take her up on the biker movie?”

“Christ you’re disgusting.” I look him up and down, then poke his VP patch. “I don’t care where you stick your dick, but do not let them film you in this.”

“I’m not stupid.”

My are-you-sure stare doesn’t seem to discourage him from this new career path.

I glance at Stella again. She’s kneeling in the middle of the bed and has an extensive collection of anal toys lined up next to her. The cameraman leans in to get a close-up as Stella dribbles lube over her ass. “Seriously?”

He lifts his shoulders. “What? She’s sexy and smart.” He glances over at her. “And a very dirty girl. Just my type.”

That’s it. I’ve had it. “Fantastic. Enjoy your new career. I’ll be outside.”

I take out my phone, ignoring the three follow-up texts from Sway and call Hope.

“Hey,” she answers. “On a break?”

“I needed to hear your voice before I killed Z.”

“Aw.” Soft laughter flows through the phone instantly calming me. I lean against the wall, closing my eyes for a second. “Don’t be mean to Z.”

“Trust me, he’s earned it today.”

“I doubt that.” That’s my girl. Always defending my brothers, even when I want to choke them.

Already she’s put a smile on my face.

“Definitely gonna kill Sway though.”

“Now that, I’m on board with, Mr. President.” More laughter follows her words.

“How are things at Charlotte’s?” Teller had driven Hope down to Charlotte’s office this morning.

“You should see the pile of papers we’re wading through. Almost none of it relevant. It’s a mess. But,” she says with a cheerful note in her voice, “It’s a lot more fun when it’s not my ass on the line.”

“Hey!” I hear Charlotte yell in the background.

“Good.” I know she’s been bored and feels “lazy” being home all the time—even though from what I can tell pregnancy is a 24/7 job she won’t get a break from for another couple months. “I’ll let you get back to it.”

She hesitates. “I’m glad you called.”

“You don’t know how badly I needed to hear your voice, baby doll.”

Half an hour later, I’m bored as shit and beyond annoyed with my fuckwit degenerate VP. Finally the door opens, and he steps out.

“Make your porn-star debut?”

He gives me a half-shrug. “Eh. I changed my mind. Maybe another time when I’m not getting squeezed in between anal and a three-way.”

The disgusted face I pull makes him laugh. “What the fuck you been doing in there all this time, then?”

He shrugs again and looks away. “Nothing. Just talking.”

I stare at him for a second, but don’t get a chance to question him, because the two wanna-be film stars show up for the afternoon shoot. They’re a baby-faced pair of jacked-up frat bro types.

As we show them into the suite, Z and I do the silent, menacing biker staring thing we were hired for. The dopey grins slide off their smooth, round faces real fast.

Stella emerges from the bedroom in what I guess is supposed to be a “college co-ed” outfit of a tiny pleated skirt and a sweatshirt from Empire U.

“Nice touch,” Z mutters.

I don’t acknowledge his comment. Instead, I keep my eyes trained on dickwad number one, because he has that look about him that says ‘I can do whatever I want to her, because she’s a sex-worker’. Dealt with plenty of assholes just like him at CB. I’ll be more than happy to rearrange his thought process. With my fists.

Stella outlines the script for them several times, making it clear what is and is not acceptable. The two dweebs are only concerned with getting her naked and making her “airtight” as one of them so charmingly puts it.

They sign paperwork and hand over their driver’s licenses. The whole time we stand there, arms crossed over our chests, staring them down.

“Yeah! Let’s do this!” dickwad number one yells, thumping his fist against his chest. The other one keeps mumbling something about being afraid his parents will accidentally find the video and watch it.

Was I that much of an asshole at that age?

Z glances at me and rolls his eyes.

They get down to business, and Z’s thankfully less interested this time.

I keep an eye on things to make sure Stella’s okay, but otherwise couldn’t care less.

The only woman on my mind is my woman.

Maybe going home and recreating something similar to the morning session with her in our basement fun room. The sweep of her dark auburn hair against soft pale skin as I bend her over—

“Rock?” Z snaps his fingers in front of my face. “You okay?”

“Yeah. They almost done?”

“Uh, no.” He tips his head toward the trio. Dickhead number two is staring at Stella’s pussy as if he’s never seen one before and is afraid it might chomp his face off if he gets too close.

I groan and grind my teeth, annoyed as fuck I got roped into this today.

“Think she’ll be offended if I want to take her to dinner later?” Z asks.

“Only if you say it’s because she needs more padding,” I remind him of his earlier remarks.

He nods and wipes his palms on his jeans. “I’d never say that to her.”

This is new. I can’t remember the last time Z asked a woman out or cared so much about her answer.

“I’m not a total asshole.” He glances over again. “She’s worked pretty hard. Poor girl’s probably starving.

“Your consideration is touching.”

We stand there watching for a few minutes while they set up the next shot.

This session lacks everything the first one had. The few minutes I watch are cold, impersonal, and boring as fuck. A whole lot of insert tab A into tab B.

Would I have even noticed or cared about something like that before Hope?

Z creeps closer to me. “This is going to sound weird—

“Weirder than you wanting to star in her next fli

ck?”

He chuckles. “Yeah.” He points to his crotch—something I could really do without. “This is doing nothing for me. The whole thing feels kinda cold.”

“Planning a career as a film critic now?”

“I’m serious. It’s nothing like this morning.”

“No shit.” I rock back on my heels, remembering back to when I was a lowly prospect. “Reminds me of when I finally got to work at Crystal Ball.”

One corner of his mouth slides up. “Grinder let you bounce when you were like sixteen.”

“Outside checking licenses, yeah. He and Ruger didn’t let me inside until I earned my prospect rocker.”

“Sounds about right.”

“When I finally had a peek behind the curtain it was a lot less interesting.”

He smirks. “Because the wizard had no clothes on?”

A chuckle rumbles out of me. “Because the girls were hustlers. Pretending to be so interested in the guys, making them think they had a chance, then laughing at the suckers behind their backs while counting their cash. Not a damn thing sexy about it.”

He traces a circle in the air with his finger. “Not much different than MC vs. Civilian most of the time, bro.”

“True.” I shrug. Hell, Z still runs Crystal Ball. Took over so I could get away from it. Maybe I offended him.

“Besides, all those girls always had a thing for you.”

Before I can comment on the idiocy of that statement, Stella lets out a noise that sounds more like pain than pleasure. I cock my head. “Check on her. Make sure she’s okay.”

I didn’t need to say it. Z’s already on his way. I follow behind.

Stella seems more annoyed than relieved at our intrusion which I take as my cue to step the fuck outside.

Z stops me with a hand on my shoulder. “Stay. Just in case.”

Yeah, he’s right. I need to stop being such a dick and do what I promised to do. I flop down on the couch and pull out my phone, scrolling through my emails while listening for signs of trouble from the next room.

Nothing but fake moans and shrieks of, “Fuck me harder!”

One of my emails is from a jewelry company I’ve ordered stuff for Hope from in the past. I scroll through and find a charm for one of her bracelets and order it. Lord knows she deserves something for not even blinking when I told her where I was headed today.

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