3. Katie-2
945 Words
Of course, the asshole was late. I sat down in a corner chair with my pumpkin spice latte (skim, of course) and waited, staring irritably out at the parking lot. I’d always hated Starbucks, especially in LA – they were always full of college kids, trying to spot someone famous. Or worse, reporters. This one in particular was packed. I glanced around smugly, trying to see if anyone was staring at me. When I saw a group of college-aged boys over by the window, I licked my lips seductively and lifted my latte towards my mouth. They watched, jaws practically grazing the floor.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a gruff voice said.
I swallowed hard and put my coffee down. “What?” And just who the hell do you think you are to give me advice?”
A man lowered himself down into the seat across from me. He was gorgeous – I had to admit. He had long, dark hair that waved around his head and barely grazed his shoulders, perfect tan skin, and gorgeous bone structure that screamed plastic surgery. Dark scruff lined his chiseled jaw and his dark blue eyes almost certainly had to be colored contacts. He was wearing head-to-toe leather, including an expensive jacket that almost looked like last season Armani.
“I’m Deacon,” he said. He winked at me and I swallowed hard. I wasn’t expecting this guy from a motorcycle club to be so gorgeous. I glared.
“And why do you think you can get off telling me what to do?”
Deacon raised his eyebrows and laughed. I saw he was holding a small espresso. “Because,” he snarled in a low voice that sent a shiver down my spine. “You’re being a f*****g i***t, and it’s my job to tell you when you’re doing that.”
I sniffed. “I don’t see how flirting with college boys could hurt me,” I said daintily. “They wouldn’t do anything!”
“Honey,” Deacon said patronizingly. He leaned across the table, and I caught a whiff of cigarette smoke and engine grease. “These are exactly the kind of kids who wouldn’t think twice about sneaking onto your property and taking some pictures to sell to TMZ. You’re worried about a stalker, right? Don’t encourage these little wannabes,” he added. “They’re just kids now, but in a few years, who knows?”
My heart thudded in my chest and I took a small, controlled sip of my latte. “I guess you’re right,” I admitted grudgingly. I stared at him again; those dark blue eyes were the most unnerving I’d seen in weeks. Maybe even months, unless you counted the time last month when I saw Bradley Cooper at the grocery store. Just thinking about the way his blue eyes had flitted over my body was enough to make me wet.
“I knew you’d be hot,” Deacon said, leaning back in his chair and eyeing me sharply. “But I didn’t think you’d be a dead-ringer for Katie Heigl.” He licked his lips and I struggled with the hot feeling that rose through my belly. “I didn’t think I’d actually wanna f**k you.”
When I felt his hand under the table, resting on my thigh, I didn’t push it away. This was typical; men always wanted me, usually within a few seconds of meeting me. Back when I’d first moved to LA, I’d loved the attention. If I was being honest with myself, I still did. But it was so typical, so basic. If a guy wanted me, I wanted him to work for it. I certainly didn’t want him to come onto me in the middle of some trashy coffee chain.
“That’s enough,” I said, sliding my legs to the side. His hand fell off my thigh, and I noted with satisfaction that he didn’t try to touch me again. “I need you to work for me,” I said primly. “That’s all. Just work.”
“Yeah, your assistant told my guy something about that,” Deacon said. He smirked. “You need a bodyguard?”
I nodded. “I think someone’s stalking me,” I said.
“Any idea who that could be?”
I rolled my eyes. “No,” I said, frowning. “How the hell would I know that? It’s not really like I keep up with the millions of fans or anything.”
“You’ve got a real big ego for an ex-beauty queen,” Deacon said lazily. He drained his espresso and set the empty cup down on the table. “You ever think about trying to act?”
“Of course,” I said. “I’ve done cameos before. But acting is so draining,” I added.
“I bet,” Deacon said. It took me a moment to realize he was being sarcastic. “When do I start?”
“Immediately,” I said dryly. “I need you to come home with me now.”
Deacon winked. “s**t,” he said. “I didn’t think you’d be so forward!” He raised his eyebrows and smirked, sending a shiver of lust down my spine. “My pleasure,” he added in a low growl.
I rolled my eyes. “Good luck, asshole,” I said. I smirked right back at him. “Every single guy I’ve ever met has tried to get in my pants, and most of them haven’t succeeded. What makes you think you’ll be any different?” It was true. I was so used to guys coming onto me that I barely trusted any of them. All guys wanted was s*x. In the past, whenever I’d brought up actually going on a date, most guys had refused outright. That hurt, but it had hardened me up enough that after a while, it almost stopped hurting. Men like Deacon were a dime a dozen. Some scruff, messy hair, and cigarettes. They were all the same – they just wanted me to f**k me and run. I knew that, deep down. But as much as I tried to rationalize it away, this time something was stopping me. I knew that Deacon was in my power; he was obviously captivated by the sight of me. But right now, I had much bigger things to worry about.
“Oh, I’m not worried,” Deacon said cockily. He walked towards the door, and I had to trot to keep up with him. “I get what I want,” he added. “Just like you.” He winked at me, then pushed the door open. “Ladies first.”
As we left the Starbucks together, I hate to admit that I blushed.
- Writer
