Secret Cravings
Chapter One
Luke wanted to tell Christopher to piss off, but this last time would finally pay off his debt. The deal had included four blows—any place, any time. The agreement had landed Luke a sweet contract for a major motion picture and moved him further into position to secure his dominance as a top model and now, an actor. It had left him livid that Christopher had asked for sexual favours. But sex meant little to Luke. Everyone wanted a piece of him—not because of his personality, but because of how he looked and who he was.
People desired to touch, pet, and play with the beauty queen, but no one wanted to take care of him or love him. Ever. Christopher had proven once again that he was just another object, something to be passed around and toyed with. He could have said no to tonight, but Christopher had threatened to withdraw his contract and to spread rumours. It was easier for Luke to just get on his knees and blow.
Luke had ridden the relationship rollercoaster too many times to believe anyone would ever want him. They only wanted his fame. A night with the pretty boy would get them recognition—or they thought it would.
He pushed his private pity party aside as he sought out Christopher in Silver Lace’s main room. This dance club had transpired to be the hottest venue for the up-and-coming starlets in New York. Luke found the lifestyle to be barely tolerable. The music, the sweat-soaked bodies and the smell of spilt alcohol didn’t impress him. Sure, this place had cool décor, but he had totally awesome digs across from Central Park where he could be himself and not somebody’s toy.
A nice, quiet evening at home with some soft music and a fire in the fireplace would get him going, not this fake crap, but the people he hung with thought being seen was more important than substance. He’d grown up and matured over the twenty years he’d been modelling. Soon he would hit thirty, and the reality of his loveless life gnawed at his insides.
He saw Christopher and his dick shrivelled. Hopefully the jerk wouldn’t want to touch him too much because Luke couldn’t get it up for the guy. Not that he didn’t appreciate an occasional anal experience, but Christopher did nothing for him, especially not tonight.
Christopher stalked over and grabbed Luke’s hand. “Bathroom, now.”
Great. Talk about a jerk. Hell, maybe Christopher would be done quickly and Luke could get out of there.
* * * *
Nichole Ansley flipped her pink hair over her shoulder and skipped down the block to the club. Her pixie-like frame and barely there clothes, along with her fuck-me attitude, would get her into Silver Lace for free. She’d found out last week, through friends, that the guy who ran the extreme dance club loved to fill the place with girls like her—fun and sexy, with a devil-may-care boldness. The deep pain she’d been nursing since last month was buried behind a wall of indifference and regret. The regret twisted in her gut whenever thoughts of Charisa and Derek surfaced, so she’d strapped on her pink corset and micro-mini and come out clubbing in the Meatpacking District of New York.
Silver Lace sat off the beaten path and hadn’t been around the last time she’d done the bar scene. Four years ago, when she’d turned nineteen, Charisa had taken her in and made her part of a family. She hadn’t meant to get so involved with the girl, but one thing had led to another. Then Derek had shown up and the twosome had become a threesome.
Nichole pushed thoughts of her old lovers from her mind as she pasted on a megawatt smile, flashing her cleavage at the bouncer as she danced in through the front door. The energy of the wall-to-wall crowd smothered her depression, pounding through her body and thoughts. One word came to mind.
Party.
She moved to the centre of the floor and dancers gyrated around Nichole, touching her back, her butt and her boobs. Men towered over her, their smiles predatory. She wouldn’t fuck any of them tonight, nor would she mess with a woman. The breakup had been too recent and her emotions were still too raw.
A deep sadness filled her when a tall, blonde woman who looked like Charisa slid past and winked at her. Her body wouldn’t move for a few seconds and three different people bumped into her, knocking her against a short man. She brushed off his advances and retreated to the bathroom.
Her tears had dried before she even glanced in the mirror. Crying over her failed relationship with Charisa and Derek wouldn’t soothe her pain. She’d tried that route earlier and nothing good had come from her trouble. She cleaned herself up and headed back out to the dance floor, determined to have a good time.
* * * *
Christopher pulled Luke behind him, still heading towards the bathroom. Luke brushed past a doll of a girl and she caught his eye. A surge of desire shot through him. He looked again and realised the girl was Nichole, the dog-walker he’d been talking to every Monday for a while. He hadn’t seen her for the last month. Perhaps she’d moved. Before the night ended he wanted to speak with her. She’d been the only woman in his life who had talked to him like he was a normal person and not a life-sized Ken doll. He adored her for that.