I’m through hiding. I’m through being scared.
Most of all, I’m through believing that fate is my enemy. Punish me? How about reward me? I do something bold and scary and wonderful, then maybe the universe should do something nice for me. Or for the people I love.
I look up at Griffin, my eyes wide.
“What?” he demands again.
“Nia was right. My life’s in a box.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“That’s okay. I know the way out myself.” I take a deep breath, and smile. “You’re looking at the featured model for a stunning new art show opening in a couple of weeks.”
“Am I?”
“Daddy will never let me hear the end of this.” I say the words, but this time—for the first time—they’re missing the usual dread.
“Dad’s in Georgia. And you’re here. And the last time I checked, it’s your life.”
I smile at him. “And I’m going to go start living it.”
I’m pacing the studio when he bursts through the alley door. “Sorry, sorry. I got stuck in traffic, and—Kelsey?”
I lift my fingers in a little wave. “Hi.”
He hurries to me, his expression a mix of concern and joy. “Are you okay? Where are Cass and Siobhan?”
“I sent them away.”
He runs his fingers through his hair, and now his expression looks as if he’s trying for patience.
“Baby, I’m thrilled to see you, but I have to get these shots done. I’m down to the wire here, and Cass has a full plate at the tattoo parlor. She’s squeezing me in around clients.”
“No, she’s not.”
He takes a step back, then looks me up and down. “What’s going on?”
“It’s just that you’re not really that slammed. You’ve got at least two-thirds of the images, and the dance is already choreographed.”
I watch as he swallows. “Kelsey—baby. Don’t tease me.”
“I’m doing the show, Wyatt. Me. The pictures. The stage. Nobody’s taking my place.”
He shakes his head slowly. “We’ve been over this. It’s okay. You don’t have to.”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Why?”
“Because I love you, too. Because I’m the girl. The inspiration. I’m your muse, Wyatt. You told me so twelve years ago. And nobody is pulling that out from under me. Not even you.”
I take a step closer. “And I’m doing it because it’s right. Your photos—it’s like you said. They show a progression. And that’s what I need. A path from the old Kelsey to the new. So I’m going to walk the corridor in the exhibit, and I’m going to see my face looking back at me, and I’m going to dance on that stage.
“And the universe won’t fall apart,” I add. “And nothing bad will happen. I know, because your show is amazing and it deserves all the good things. And I know because my father’s theory is bullshit hocus pocus and I’m out from under that spell.”
I lift a shoulder. “I mean, so long as that’s all right with you.”
He bursts out laughing. “Are you through?”
I think about it. “Yeah, I pretty much covered everything.”
“Good.” And he tugs me to him, and I don’t even have time to cry out his name before his mouth is pressed against mine, hot and demanding and so deep it goes on and on, seeping deeper into my body. Keeping me warm. Keeping me safe.
“I love you,” I say, when we break the kiss.
“I should get points for saying it first,” he teases.
“Fine by me,” I say casually. “I don’t want points. I just want you.”
For immediate release:
After fourteen months as a permanent exhibit at the Stark Center for the Visual Arts, the critically acclaimed photographic exhibition, A Woman In Mind, will begin touring the United States and Europe.
The brainchild of W. Royce (aka Wyatt Segel), A Woman In Mind presents a provocative view of sensuality that has both delighted and fascinated members of the general public as well as the critics.
Royce and his fiancée, dancer Kelsey Draper, will tour with the exhibit to limited locations. Though eight of the exhibit’s photos show an “anonymous” woman as a representation of “every woman,” Royce and Draper have made no secret that Draper is the “It Girl” at the center of the show, as well as the performer of the live dance component of the exhibit.
Draper will begin filming The Far Side of Jupiter, an adaptation of the Tony Award Winning musical, in the fall.
The Stark Center is pleased to be hosting Royce’s upcoming untitled exhibit in the spring.
Read on for a sneak preview of Wicked Dirty, the next book in the Stark World series, coming September 2017!
It seemed like the perfect plan. Let a guy into my bed. Let him touch me. Let him fuck me.
Why not?
I was desperate, after all. And you know what they say about desperate times.
Besides, it’s not as if I was going to fall for one of my clients. I’m not one of those prissy girls who loses her heart at a kind word or a soft touch.
I’m not a woman who falls at all. Not for a man. Not for anybody.
I’ve been screwed far too many times. And if I’m going to get screwed anyway, I might as well get something out of it.
That was what I thought, anyway.
Then he walked in, with his beautiful face and his haunted eyes. Eyes that hinted at secrets at least as painful as my own.
He touched me—and despite all my defenses, I fell.
And now . . .
Well, now I can only hope that when I hit the ground, I won’t shatter into a million pieces. And that maybe—just maybe—he’ll be there to catch me.
Chapter 1
The lights of the Hollywood Hills glittered in the distance as nearly naked waitresses glided among the crowd with a rainbow-like array of test tube shots. Or, for the more traditional guests, highball glasses of premium vodka and bourbon.
The liquor flowed, the guests laughed and gossiped, the hottest new band in Los Angeles shook the roof, and entertainment reporters took photographs and videos, all of which they shared on social media.
In other words, the lavish party at Reach, the hip, new rooftop hotspot, was a dead-on perfect publicity event.
The purpose, of course, was to officially announce that Lyle Tarpin, one of Hollywood’s fastest rising stars, had joined the cast of M. Sterious, next year’s installment in the wildly popular Blue Zenith movie franchise.
The script was great, the action pulse-pounding, the characters well-drawn, the romance poignant—and Lyle still couldn’t believe that he’d been cast, much less that he was set to play the eponymous M, an emotionally wounded antihero.
It was a role that could catapult him from the A-list to over-the-moon, transforming him into a Hollywood megastar with his choice of meaty roles and the kind of multimillion dollar paydays that had been only a glimmer of a dream when he was a kid.
In other words, this was an opportunity he didn’t intend to fuck up.