11 Cutter
WHEN I FIRST GOT SOBER, I used to congratulate myself every night for having gotten through another day without a drink. I still do that, but now I’ve added another bullet point to my daily affirmations.
Today I didn’t interact with Aubie Gauthier.
It’s been a week since he blew me in the parking lot and I’ve gone out of my way to ensure we aren’t alone again. I should be okay with just saying no. I am an adult. I know the meaning of the word.
Apparently my stupid dick doesn’t.
And that’s why I’m removing the temptation.
So far it’s working better than expected. As long as I avoid the backstage area between 9:00 and 10:30, I’m golden. If anything comes up that needs my attention during that time, I send Javi to take care of it. But it’s been quiet. So quiet that I’ve started to let down my guard.
Which is why, when my phone buzzes with a text, I continue walking through the building on autopilot as I pull it out to check.
EVIE:
Just got back into town and would love to see you. Are you free for lunch tomorrow?
I forgot Evie told me she was going out of town; something to do with her business.
She runs her own agency specializing in entertainment representation, including her sister, who according to her is a nightmare client.
She’d only taken her on as a last resort after Selena had blown through every other agency in the city.
Evie regretted every minute of signing her, but her parents insisted she had a family obligation to help her sister’s career.
I get the feeling Mr. and Mrs. Carrick don’t care too much about Evie’s own career choice.
Or maybe they’re just playing favorites. I can relate to that.
Despite her professional drama, our brunch last Sunday was one of the most relaxing afternoons I’d spent in years. Even the ride to the restaurant was enjoyable. Evie is the first person I’ve ever allowed on my bike and she loved it, especially when I opened it up on the drive into town.
We talked about anything and everything. In fact, I couldn’t remember the last time I talked so much, though I stopped short of telling her about Callum and Amber. That’s a scab I’m not ready to pick at yet.
But lunch tomorrow sounds great.
ME:
Yes. What time should I pick you up?
I’ll be at my office. I’ll text you the address. 1:00?
Sounds good. See you then.
I’m not paying attention. That’s the only explanation I can come up with for what happens when I round the corner of the back hallway. What the hell am I doing here is my last coherent thought before my brain short circuits and I feel my control slipping.
He’s completely naked.
Smooth flawless skin. Clothes thrown over his arm, straight from the stage. That damn dragon tattoo on his side wrapped around his lean torso.
And his dick.
Gulp.
He’s hard as a fucking rock.
Our eyes meet and I feel something inside shift. Before I can come to terms with that, Aubie opens his smirking mouth.
“Well this is awkward.”
I swallow and try not to look at his cock. I mean, I really try.
Fuck.
Why is he hard?
I don’t realize he’s still talking to me until I blink and he’s right in my face. Eyes hooded. Tongue gliding over glistening lips.
An unbidden image of that tongue wrapped around my cock causes my pulse to stutter.
“You know,” he murmurs, completely invading my personal space. “I haven’t gotten the taste of your cum out of my mouth. Would you like a repeat performance?”
Who talks like that in real life? “You have a filthy mouth,” I say before I can stop myself. Great, now I sound like my mother.
His lips curl up in a slow grin. “Oh, baby, you have no idea.”
He leans close to me and raises his face to mine. At first I think he’s going to kiss me, and I don’t know how I feel about that. Part of me is terrified, while the other part is…hopeful?
It isn’t a kiss. He flicks his tongue out and traces the inside of my earlobe, sending an electrical charge rippling up my spine.
“Fight it all you want, baby,” he breathes into my ear, “but you will eventually come crawling to me.”
He pulls back and our eyes lock. What does he see in mine? Is the turmoil his words cause written there? Can he see how close I am to unraveling?
I can’t do this with him. Not now.
Not ever.
I suck in a deep breath and harden my stare. “Fuck off, Aubie.”
His voice is barely above a whisper, but I hear it as I walk away. “We’ll see, Cutter.”
The way he says my name sends a tremor of desire through me.
I don’t know where I’m going. I end up outside Daryl’s office when my phone rings. I look down at it and see it’s the front reception area.
“Claire?”
“Yeah, hey Cutter,” she says, her voice pitched low like she’s trying not to be overheard. “There’s a guy here who insists on coming in. Said he knows Daryl.”
“What does he look like?”
“Maybe a little older than you. Dark suit.” She lowers her voice, barely whispering. “He looks like a bad man.”
A bad man? “Okay, keep him there. I’m on my way.”
Someone in a suit who looks like a bad man?
The first thought that comes to mind is Scarponi.
Did he send one of his thugs over here? I really need to talk to Daryl about beefing up security.
First the redneck in the parking lot trying to assault Aubie, now this.
Javi and I can’t cover this whole property.
It’s too big and it’s gotten too popular.
Turns out the man who looks bad is, in fact, bad.
“Devers,” I greet when I spot him.
He faces me, his lips curling into a smarmy smile that doesn’t reach his beady eyes. “Cutter. Where’s your boss?”
“Doing what bosses do. What do you want? I thought Daryl was clear.”
He glances over at Claire. “You sure you want to do this here?”
Fuck. As much as I don’t want him in here, I can’t exactly kick him out of the lobby. Not without causing a scene I don’t want the staff to witness.
“Follow me,” I say, heading for my office.
He looks around with a greedy grin as we walk. “You got a nice place here.”
“And?” I prompt as I show him into the office I share with Javi and close the door. Luckily Javi isn’t here right now. He doesn’t need to know about this. I round my desk and take a seat.
“Whatever do you mean?” Devers asks as he slips into one of the chairs in front of the desk, his eyes roving over the room. It’s not as nice as Daryl’s office, but we’re comfortable here.
“I’m sure there’s an ‘and’ or a ‘but’ in there somewhere.”
“My boss wants you to reconsider his offer.”
So much for the small talk. “Sorry. We’ve already moved on.”
We hadn’t, as far as I know, but Daryl was sure he would when he kicked Scarponi to the curb.
“Are you speaking for your boss?”
“In this matter, yes. Now if there’s nothing else, I have a club to watch over.”
He doesn’t make a move. “I want to talk to Daryl.”
I’m already losing my patience with him. “What part of we’re not interested do you not understand? I can use visual aids if that will make it easier.”
He shrugs, nonplussed. “My boss wants an answer from your boss.”
“Well that’s too fucking bad, because your boss doesn’t tell me what to do. Now this is me telling you to leave before I call the cops to drag your trespassing ass out.”
“Is it trespassing if you invited me here?”
“As I recall, you tried to bully your way in here without permission. This is a members only club, and you’re not a member.”
He stands and buttons his jacket. “You sure you want to play it this way?”
I meet his eyes without flinching. I may not be the most socially adept person, but I was a pitcher in college before I blew up my life.
I know what it means to stare down a hitter.
“Nobody’s playing anything, Devers. It’s simple.
We don’t want to do business with you. If that hurts your feelings, that’s your problem. Now leave.”
I walk him to the door without a word, standing out front to make sure his car leaves the property before going back inside to talk to Daryl.
“Is everything all right?” Claire asks when I pass her.
“Yeah, just a misunderstanding. I’m glad you called me.”
She smiles. “Of course. I’m the gatekeeper.”
“That you are,” I agree, my mind already going over what I’m going to say to Daryl. He’s not going to like it, but I hope it doesn’t mean he’ll cave. I don’t think he wants to, but this is his livelihood. I know how much of himself he’s put into this business. How far will he go to keep it safe?
Turns out Daryl already knows about the visit. “Was that Devers I saw on camera?” he asks when I enter the office and take a seat on the couch. Damn, I could use a drink.
No. I did not just think that.
“Yeah. He wanted to convince you to give them a second chance.”
Not entirely accurate, but I’m trying to keep Daryl from panicking. Or maybe it’s just me.
“I hope you told him to go to hell.”
“I did, but…”
“What?”
I sigh. “He implied that wouldn’t be the end of it.”
He rubs his hands over his face. “Shit. What have I done?”
Now’s as good a time as any. “I think we need to hire extra security.”
“You think he’ll come back?”
I shrug. “Him or one of his flunkies. I’d rather not leave it to chance. He tried to bully his way past Claire.”
“You’re right. We can’t jeopardize the staff. How long will it take to hire someone?”
I’ve thought about this. Between the posting, interviews, and hiring process it could be weeks before we get the right people in here. And I know Daryl will settle for nothing but the best. By that time, it may be too late.
There is another option. Something I’ve been looking into.
“I know a security company,” I say. “They employ only professionals. These are the kind of people who guard rockstars and politicians.”
Daryl rolls his eyes. “How much is that going to cost me?”
“They have different plans. I figure we’d only need a couple more well-trained guys around here to keep things safe.”
“For how long?”
“That I don’t know. We could start with a month and see what happens. Maybe Scarponi will forget about us.”
“Really?” he scoffs. “Does Scarponi strike you as the kind of guy who forgets things?”