Chapter Five
Wes
Shit.
Wes hadn’t known what to expect when he met
R.D. Smith—Ryker—but it certainly wasn’t the man standing in front
of him. Arousal had coursed through his blood as soon as their eyes
met, and when their hands touched, holy shit, it felt like his palm
had been scorched by fire.
Ryker. He loved that name. It suited this
dark angel.
Angel? What the fuck? Am I a poet all of a
sudden?
But for some reason, those words seemed to
fit. Then again, the incredibly hot and seemingly irritated man
before him could be mistaken for a moody rockstar with long black
hair, facial scruff, and sleek black clothing that clung to his
lean body. The provocative eyeliner was the icing on the cake,
drawing Wes into the most beautiful deep blue eyes he’d ever seen.
Unfortunately, those eyes were swirling with anger. At him. Ryker
was absently rubbing the bracelets on his wrist and glaring at Wes
like he was the devil himself. Well, maybe Wes would need to be if
he wanted this book deal to happen. If Ryker was a dark angel in
this scenario, then Wes was a cheeky devil, light and playful but
determined to get what he wanted. Too bad Wes’s body had reacted so
viscerally to Ryker when they had to stick to being professionals.
For the time being.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you in person at
last, Ryker. I’ve read and enjoyed your books, and I hope we can
have a chat about Mac’s idea and see where it takes us. Why don’t
we join the others and get to know each other?” Wes said smoothly,
gesturing to the living room.
Before Ryker could reply, Wes turned, and
Ryker followed closely behind. Wes slowed his steps deliberately,
allowing him to feel Ryker’s body heat as they walked through the
doorway, and a warm, spicy scent surrounded him. Fuck, Ryker
smelled amazing, like leather and cinnamon.
Stop. Focus on the deal, not your
dick, he reminded himself.
Wes snagged two glasses of champagne from
the bar at the far end of the living room and took a moment to
admire Mac’s spacious, modern home. The room was filled with large,
low furniture in earth tones and sparse wood accents, as well as
colorful art, which resulted in a relaxed, elegant vibe. Twenty or
so guests occupied the space, filling it with conversational
murmurs, occasional laughter, and the clink of glassware. Wes
turned to hand a glass to Ryker and was greeted by that penetrating
blue glare again.
“Ryker, you’re going to age that pretty face
of yours frowning at me like that. Here, sip on this and let’s find
a quiet corner to talk,” he murmured, offering up his best
smile.
“No need for compliments or quiet corners,
Wes. I’ll get right to the point. I work alone. That’s it. I know
Mac means well, but I enjoy my working life the way it is. It’s
nothing personal. I just don’t need a writing partner. I’m sorry if
this has been a waste of your time, but I told Mac it wasn’t a good
idea at the outset. But, like the stubborn man he is, he’s going to
keep trying to convince me. As, I’m sure, will you. Good luck with
that.”
Ryker raised his champagne glass in a mock
toast and headed off to the other side of the room. Wes didn’t have
a difficult time with witty comebacks, but in that moment, he had
nothing.
Wes stared at Ryker as he walked away, his
eyes inevitably straying lower to get a good, long look at his ass,
modeled perfectly in tight denim. He shook his head to get his mind
off his reaction and wake up the rational part of his brain.
Ryker thought he’d had the last word, but
Wes wasn’t going to let a little excuse like “I work alone” deter
him. He had a gut feeling about this book series, and now that he’d
met Ryker and experienced their initial chemistry, it would only
make this project that much more exciting and interesting.
Wes didn’t need luck. He just had to be
patient.
****
Ryker
Twenty minutes later, palms sweating, Ryker
forced a polite smile as he pretended to listen to the conversation
going on around him at the dinner table. Wes kept glancing over
from the opposite end, that dimpled grin on his face. What the
hell is that guy so fucking happy about? Ryker had said no. Did
Wes think he was going to change his mind? The sexy asshole was
just trying to play with his head. His dick twitched in his jeans
at that thought.
No, not that head. Calm down, he told
his dick. Wes is the enemy.
His dick did not agree.
Ryker watched as Wes turned his attention
back to Mac, and suddenly, they bent their heads together and
lowered their voices in what looked like an intense conversation.
Unfortunately, Ryker was too far away to hear what they were
saying. Besides which, Cal was going on about one of his crazy
adventures, and the resulting laughter that filled the room blotted
out any other conversations.
“And then I was buck-ass naked in the middle
of the fucking piazza at two in the morning, being chased by a
really angry husband and a horde of Italian police.” Peals of
laughter echoed in the large dining space.
Shaking out of his internal angst, Ryker
looked across the table and noticed that Grey was paying particular
attention to Cal’s animated face—and flushing every time Cal said
something flirtatious or outrageous. Interesting.
A large hand suddenly landed on Ryker’s left
thigh and squeezed tight. Oh, no. Harrison Ruehl.
Harrison was a successful fashion
entrepreneur, a very wealthy businessman, and a regular at these
parties. An admitted sugar daddy, Harrison kept trying to convince
Ryker to “play” with him and be his boy, despite Ryker’s insistence
that he was not interested in that role. Ryker put on his fake
smile, which was more like a grimace, and quietly removed the
offending hand. Harrison didn’t get the hint and gently touched
Ryker’s shoulder and hair. Guess I’m not the only one who can’t
read social cues.
“I was hoping to sit near you tonight and I
lucked out. I figured I would finally be able to convince you to go
out with me,” Harrison purred as he leaned in. “I love your quiet
nature. It’s mysterious, and it intrigues me.”
Rolling his eyes at Harrison’s horrible
attempt at a pick-up line, Ryker leaned away as far as he could.
“Please don’t touch my hair or any part of me. I’ve already told
you that you and I are never going on a date. We want different
things. You have a room full of other options,” Ryker grumbled. He
did his best to keep his voice low to avoid the attention of other
guests, but he wasn’t above making a scene if push came to shove.
Some people needed to learn their lessons the hard way.
“But surely you need someone to help guide
you and unleash your inner fire. I’d be happy to teach you,” he
said and slipped a business card into Ryker’s jacket pocket.
Ryker took a deep breath and gave his best
glare. “If you don’t stop touching me in the next ten seconds, I
will make a very loud comment about your inability to perform
sexually.”
“You wouldn’t,” Harrison scoffed.
“Try me,” Ryker replied angrily. Harrison
slowly withdrew his hand and shrugged.
Ryker breathed a big sigh of relief until a
few minutes later, when Harrison once again placed his hand on
Ryker’s leg under the table.
It was going to be a long-ass night.
****
Wes
Who is that man practically sitting in
Ryker’s lap? Wes grumbled to himself as his mood took a
distinct nosedive.
The large man to Ryker’s left was probably
in his fifties, with a shaved head and several visible tattoos. He
was talking loudly and kept leaning into Ryker’s personal space,
touching his hair and shoulder. Ryker looked uncomfortable and
pissed, even more so than when he was introduced to Wes, if that
were possible. Or maybe that was his permanent expression. Words
were exchanged and Wes observed the older man back off, and then
his left hand moved under the table again. Wes felt the sudden urge
to walk over and physically remove the man from his chair. If
that guy touches Ryker one more time… White-hot anger burst
through his blood, and it was all kinds of strange, because Wes was
never possessive about anyone, let alone someone he had just met.
Control yourself, Wes, and focus.
“How did your conversation with Ryker go?”
Mac asked quietly, interrupting Wes’s primal thoughts.
Wes turned his attention back to Mac and
gave a small grin, trying to regain his calm. “He gave me the ‘I
work alone’ speech and walked off. But I’m not that easy to get rid
of. And I want answers. So, that being said, I need you to tell me
a bit more about Ryker. Why’s he refusing this collaboration before
we even get a chance to talk it out? There must be a reason, and
I’m not leaving New York before I know why.” He paused and crossed
his arms. “I mean it. I’m pigheaded that way. Ask my best friend.”
He pointed his thumb in Grey’s direction.
Mac laughed softly, causing a dramatic
change in his face. The savvy dealmaker was normally intense and
almost grim-faced when he was in work mode, but when he relaxed, he
was rather striking. Too bad Wes didn’t feel a thing for Mac. Nope,
it seemed his body and mind would rather focus on the hot, moody
writer at the other end of the table.
“Ryker has his reasons for being hesitant,”
Mac said. “He was a journalist before becoming an author, and he
left that job for a very good reason.” Mac paused, steepling his
hands, his expression once again intense. “I’ll let him tell you
his story in his own words. For now, let’s just say that some scars
run deep. Aside from that, Ryker is quiet, thoughtful, extremely
smart. You’ll notice that he prefers to have a few meaningful
conversations rather than talk with everyone in a room. He hates
publicity and attention. Expects and respects honesty and hard
work. But he prefers to work on his own—be on his own, for the most
part. I thought this collaboration would be good for him, push him
out of his comfort zone a bit. Even great writers can get stuck in
a rut, and he’s headed into one. He has so much talent, but he
needs a change. Anyway, despite his attitude toward you, he is a
good-hearted guy. Always supportive of his friends, me and Cal
especially, no matter what crazy ideas we come up with,” Mac
finished and looked at Wes.
“Good information to know,” Wes replied
thoughtfully, contemplating his next move.
Mac’s comment about meaningful conversations
gave Wes an idea about how he might change Ryker’s mind. In the
meantime, he had other, more basic priorities.
He smiled at Mac. “So, any new clubs worth
visiting while I’m in town? I’m ready to let loose.”