So Trashy (Bad Boy Next Door Book 2)(24)
“Met her on set, the movie before last. Didn’t really know who she was when we first…”—fucked—“went out. But it didn’t take long to figure out she was the producer’s daughter. He’d brought her along because she’d never been to Italy.”
“And you two didn’t hit it off?” He quirks an eyebrow.
“She thinks we did. Now, I’m fucked, because there’s a leading role I’m trying to land with Razor Wire Productions, who her daddy now works for—correction, her daddy now runs. Hazards of working in a small industry.”
He tucks the stack of messages into my hand, folding my fingers over them. “Well, good luck with that, Son.”
I nod. “Thanks, Pops.”
Good luck. I need more than luck to get rid of this particular boil on my ass.
The phone vibrates in the seat next to me. I pull into the parking space and pick it up.
I slide my finger across the screen. “Stephens. What the hell are you up to?”
“Hiya, Fontaine. I haven’t heard from you since you left. Thought I’d see what my favorite Marine’s been up to.”
“Shit. I was never your favorite, just the one you never bagged.”
He chuckles. “All right, you got me. But I always liked you, even though you never sucked my cock.”
“You have to have a cock to get sucked, Stephens.”
“Man! Still busting balls.” I can hear his grin through the phone.
“Some things will never change. Hey, I’ve got to go. What did you need?”
“Well, my buddy Russell and I are taking a road trip. We both took two weeks leave, and we’re going to Florida. You’re in Louisiana, right?”
“You stopping in to see me?”
“Fuck yeah, we are!”
“Text me the deets. I’ll try to make sure I’m off work for a day or two.”
“So, you don’t mind my friend crashing at your place too?”
“I’ll have to check with my Aunt. It’s really her place, but I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
“Oohrah. Let me know if there’s any problem. Otherwise, I’ll see you then.”
“Sounds good.” I hang up, smiling.
It’ll be good to hang with Stephens again, and this Russell guy—I don’t know him, but he’s a Marine. Marines are my people. I’ve missed my people.
Why the fuck did I get out? Maybe I should re-enlist.
Doesn’t matter right this second though. That’s a decision for another time. Today, I have to do what needs to be done to help Aunt Delores right now. No matter how much I hate the thought.
I suck in a deep breath, knowing this is stepping backward, right into the role that everyone I grew up around expected me to play all along. My stomach turns inside out.
Well, fuck them. They can just kiss my ass. I’ll take care of those I love, no matter what. That’s the thing that separates me from my mother.
I watch the mirror. Fucking Thugs. You’d think they were the ones stalking me and not the paparazzi.
Fuck it. They’ll just have to keep up. I white knuckle the hand grips, pushing my old bike to its limits. Next time I go somewhere, we’re pulling the fucking bike on a trailer—my new bike, the one with all the power.
Damn her. My gut simmers as I burn up the road toward Slidell. When she said she was starting her new job, I thought she meant a different job. What the fuck is she thinking? And working for that douche, Lonnie Fisher?
I hit the parking lot, skidding to a stop. I jump from my bike, pulling my helmet from my head as I yank open the door to the club. It takes my eyes a moment to adjust to the dark penetrated by beams of flashing lights. It’s enough to give someone a fucking seizure.
The place is packed. Good, maybe they won’t notice me. I doubt very much Lonnie’s going to welcome me, especially after last time.
A blonde approaches, running her fingers along my arm. “Can I get you a drink?”
I give a slight shake of my head. “No, thanks. Maybe you can help me though.”
“Sure, Sugar.” She shimmies a bit closer. “Hey, do I know you? You look like someone I know.”
Well, if she was here a couple of days ago, she might remember me. But, maybe she’s seen one of my movies. Time to put this fame thing to good use for a change.
I grin. “You might recognize me. I’m an actor.”
Her eyes narrow. “Yeah, sure. Slidell, Louisiana’s a hot spot for celebrities to get a little R&R.”
“No, really. I’m Buck Wylder.”
She looks at my offered hand, and her eyes grow wide. Her jaw drops just before she throws her hands over her mouth and jumps up and down, squealing. Her tits bounce; the sheer top she wears does nothing to conceal them. But that’s good, it draws my eye to her nametag.