King's Pleasure (3 page)

“There’s my boy,” Dylan Freedman shouted, strolling over to Jeremy with his hand held up for a high-five.

“Aw. The man of the hour,” Jeremy proclaimed before slapping palms and engaging in a one-arm shoulder-hug.

“Can you believe this—
me
tying the knot?”

“Hell nah,” Jeremy answered honestly. “But a lot of brothers are dropping like flies into that matrimony trap. I’m starting to think that it’s something in the water.”

“Oh, that’s right. Your brother Eamon just walked the plank, didn’t he?”

“That he did,” Jeremy said, shaking his head. “I don’t know what the hell came over him. But it is what it is, I guess.”

Dylan bobbed his head. “Yeah, yeah. I think I read about it in the paper. He locked down some billionaire heiress or something. She’s quite the dime-piece, too, if I recall.” He laughed. “Talk about a brother upgrading.”

“C’mon, you know Eamon. Money is the last thing that turns his head.”

“True that. True that. Still, your brother won the wife sweepstakes, especially if she’s a dime and got a mint in the bank. A man can’t lock that down every day.”

“Says the man who’s about to marry the daughter of one of the most powerful men in Hollywood,” Jeremy responded. “Something tells me you finally got the financing for your next picture.”

Dylan tapped the side of his temple while his slick grin looked like it was about ready to slide right off his face. “Turns out I got lady luck on my side, too.”

Jeremy frowned. “So are you doing it for love or power?”

Dylan’s shoulders bobbed up and down. “I’m going to plead the fifth on that in case your ass is wearing a wire.”

“Oh, it’s like that.”

His shoulders bounced again.

“A’ight then, bro. You do you,” Jeremy said while his gut twisted in disgust. It wasn’t his place to lecture his friend and—more importantly—his client about how to enter into the sanctity of marriage. If it was one thing he knew, it was how to fall back and play his position, and that position in this drama was on the sidelines.

“Ooooh, Big Daaaaddy.” Twins, Brandi and Candi, flanked his sides and hit him with identical smiles.

“Laaadies,” he drawled, as a memory instantly rewound in his head. He certainly would be up for some two-on-one action tonight. “I didn’t know that you two knew my man Dylan.”

“Who?” They blinked.

Jeremy laughed. “The groom to-be—Dylan Freedman. This is his bachelor party.”

The girls giggled.

“Actually, we didn’t know whose party this was,” Brandi said. Her beauty mole was on the right, Jeremy remembered. “We were just hanging out on the beach when someone shouted that there was a party going on.”

Candi cut in. “You know us. We
love
crashing a good party.”

“Actually, I did know that.” He tossed them a playful wink before his gaze dived to check out the girls’ heavy silicone investments. As far as he was concerned, they were living up to be
damn
good investments.

“So what do you say about hooking up later?” Brandi inquired.

Jeremy hesitated. The girls were fun, but the sibling rivalry tended to get a little out of control. “I’m open. We can all hang loose and whatever happens, happens.”

He got two winks as they slapped him on the ass.

“We’ll be looking for you at the end of the night,” Brandi promised before taking her sister by the hand and leading her away.

Jeremy watched their booties jiggle away in matching sky-blue bikinis.
Good thing I’m up on my B vitamins.

“I don’t know how you do it, man,” Dylan said. “Please tell me that when you die your family is donating your body to science. Your stamina should be bottled and sold on the stock market.”

“Get on with that, man.” Jeremy laughed, even though his ego inflated a few more inches.

The friends moved farther into the expansive house where the entire glass wall at the back of the house showcased an incredible view of the sun setting over the ocean. With summer’s longer days, dusk usually hit late in the evening.

Jeremy stopped for a second to take it all in. “I love this house.”

“You want to buy it?”

“You’re selling it?” he asked, surprised.

“Yeah. Turns out that wives don’t like their husbands keeping bachelor pads.” Dylan shook his head. “Who knew?”

“You don’t say?” Jeremy chuckled, but he was seriously considering the offer. He loved L.A., and he loved Malibu even more. “Let me think on it and I’ll get back at you.”

“A’ight, but don’t leave me hanging too long. Malibu is still a hot market. It’s one of the main reasons why I wanted to have the party here. It’s a bachelor-and-farewell party all rolled up into one.” Dylan’s eyes grew misty. “I need a drink. Damn, I’m getting
married!
”

“Aah,” said Dave Killion, Dylan’s best man, who popped up like a jack-in-the-box with a tray of tequila shots. “You said the forbidden word.
Drink!
”

Dylan rolled his eyes as he reached for one of the shot glasses.

“What’s the forbidden word?” Jeremy asked.

“Married,”
Dave answered. “Consider that your only warning.”

“Got it.” Jeremy gave him the thumbs-up and then watched as Dylan tossed back his shot.

“I still can’t believe that I’m losing this place,” Dylan moaned.

Jeremy struggled not to laugh. It was usually during the last twenty-four hours of bachelorhood that all the things brothers were truly giving up finally hit them. Losing the crib was one thing. Their only private space was about to be reduced to just a “man cave” in the basement—if they were lucky. He knew plenty of dudes who were still begging or negotiating to have even that. Their wardrobe would decrease to a quarter of the closet where they could own no more than three pairs of shoes—usually, two pairs for work and one pair of sneakers. God forbid if there wasn’t enough space for the entire department-store-size shoe collection that the missus was bringing to the table. Not to mention the guest pass to the feminized bathroom issued by the wife, where a stick of deodorant and one bottle of cologne that she’s selected resides in the medicine cabinet.

“Actually, I’m going to need some more liquor,” Dylan announced after Dave strolled off.

Jeremy followed him. “How’s it going, Robbie?” Jeremy shouted above the music.

The bartender glanced up and smiled. “Never better, Boss Man.”

Jeremy glanced over at the tip jar and saw that it was already full. “Looks like it’s going to be a good night.”

“It’s always a good night at Bachelor Adventures’s parties.” He winked after spouting the company line.

“Heeeeey, now, that’s what I’m talking about.” Jeremy gave Robbie the thumbs-up. “Hit me with a Heineken.”

“You got it.” Robbie turned toward the portable chiller and grabbed one of the green bottles. “Here you go,” he said, popping the top and setting it down on the bar.

“Thanks.” Jeremy stuffed a couple bills into the tip jar and then turned around to take another survey of the growing party. It was just an hour into the bash and already a few of the ladies had done away with their bikini tops, and more than a few of them were tossing smiles and winks his way.

He turned up the bottle to swallow, and began his mental checklist of possibilities for the evening.
What am I in the mood for this evening?

Malibu being Malibu, the selection had more vanilla than his preferred chocolate, but there was enough of an assortment to keep his libido in the game.

When the sun disappeared, the bamboo and seashell Tiki Torches were lit, along with several campfires, to give the partygoers outside on the beach enough light. With beer in hand, Jeremy moved around the crowd, primarily checking on his employees and the groom-to-be.

On deck, his two nude models lay still on buffet tables with an assortment of sushi and sashimi placed strategically over their bodies. Some of the men made their selections by carefully using chopsticks, while others got their jollies off by using their mouths. As a precaution, Jeremy had two security guards posted near the girls to make sure that guests didn’t get too carried away.

As minutes ticked into hours, the drunken games changed from Pin the Condom on the Model to Booby Dodgeball (throwing a ball in the shape of a boob and hitting another player). Jeremy joined in on that one and won.

By the time The Dollhouse Dolls’s glistening bodies did what they did best, working the portable stripper poles, the party was classified as being off the hook. One of his popular dancers, Dime Piece, had one brother fiendin’ so hard that he let her walk him around the room on his hands and knees with a gold leash around his neck.

Still clamoring for more, Dime ordered two of the bouncers to tie him to a coffee table where she then proceeded to climb on top of him in the classic sixty-nine position and simulate a sexual act. The look on dude’s face let everyone know that he was in hog heaven.

By midnight, the Dolls had finished their acts, but the party was far from over. Dylan eventually showed up at the bar, shirtless and with his fly open, demanding another drink—which was the last thing it looked like he needed.

Jeremy greeted him with two potential honeys tucked under each arm, and his own smile stretched across his face. “How you holding up, Dylan?”

His buddy turned toward him, smelling like Mary Jane and looking higher than the satellites orbiting the earth.

“Dr. J, man. You throw the best damn parties,” he slurred.

Another satisfied customer.
“Thanks, bro. I’m glad to see that you’re having a good time.”

Dylan looked at the two ebony beauties next to Jeremy and struggled to straighten up. “You don’t look like you’re having too bad a time yourself.”

Jeremy laughed. “You know me. I get in where I fit in—most of the time.”

“Awww…that’s my dawg!” Dylan held up his fist for a bump, while Robbie set the next drink down for the groom-to-be.

When Dylan’s gaze lingered on the ladies, Jeremy leaned down and whispered, “Why don’t you two be nice to my friend here?”

They shared a brief disappointed look, but then slid over to either side of the man of the evening and poured on the charm.

“Damn,” Dylan said. “Nobody can say you’re not a generous man.”

“My momma always taught me to share.” Jeremy laughed, but while he was laughing, he caught sight of the most unbelievable hourglass figure out of the corner of his eye.

“Whoo, girl. Shake it!”

Jeremy’s head twisted all the way around as his gaze zoomed toward a stunningly beautiful cinnamon-brown beauty in a white bikini top and matching wraparound sarong. “Who is that?”

Despite being a man who was accustomed to seeing beautiful bodies, Jeremy was positive that he had never seen curves that lush and dangerous in his entire adult life. Baby Girl was so fine that he personally wanted to call and thank her momma for doing one
hell
of a job.

And man, could this chick move. Rock, rock, dip and back it on up.
Baby Girl.
He shook his head. She had just the right bounce and jiggle to set it off.

It was hard to look at her without a brother twisting up his face because she was putting a hurting on everyone watching her. Before he knew it he was rocking his own hips as if he was already partnered up with her on the dance floor.

She’s the one,
he decided as his erection stretched down one side of his leg.

Jeremy didn’t immediately bounce up out of his chair. Instead, he spent a good deal of time itemizing a mental list of all the things he wanted to do to her—some were illegal in twelve states.

His gaze finally inched upward, but she was moving and grooving so much that it actually took a moment before she finally turned so that he could see her face. When she turned, Jeremy’s heart stopped.

At least, that’s what it felt like—because there was suddenly an unbelievable pain in his chest. Baby Girl had the face of an angel, with round, doll-like eyes, big-apple cheeks and a pair of incredibly shapely, full lips that reminded him of the singer Angie Stone. He loved a nice set of lips.

Suddenly, a brother pulled up all onto her bumper, and jealousy stabbed him so hard that it was a good thing he didn’t pack heat or CSI would have been all up in there tonight. With an inner strength that he didn’t know he had, he forced himself to hang back and watch Baby Girl’s reaction. Hell, for all he knew, the brother could be her man. No sense in looking crazy until he had a few more facts.

His mysterious angel-slash-sex kitten turned and smiled over her shoulder at her new dance partner. Though she dipped and rolled her hips, he quickly concluded that the two-step-challenged brother wasn’t her man. And when it became clear that dude couldn’t keep up with what she was working with, Baby Girl gave homey the cold shoulder.

“Damn, he went down in flames,” Dylan said, watching the same scene.

Hell, Jeremy had forgotten all about Dylan and the two honeys still holding up the bar. Jeremy’s singular focus was on the woman that could clearly give his dancers a good run for their money.

Jeremy watched brother after brother step up. But one by one, she shot them down with either a roll of her eyes or a sudden twist of her back. Baby Girl wasn’t playing on the dance floor.

“Cold,” he mumbled, but what still impressed him was Baby Girl’s skills.

“Why don’t you get up there?” Dylan said, elbowing him. “Show us how it’s done, dawg.”

Tempting.
However, something else coursed down the center of Jeremy’s back.
Nervousness.
The emotion was so new to him that for a couple of minutes, he didn’t know what to do. Rejection was never something he’d even considered before.

“A body like that,” Dylan slurred, “was made for one thing, and one thing only—sin.”

Jeremy bobbed his head in agreement. It had been a minute since he’d been up in somebody’s church and he certainly wasn’t interested in being saved tonight. He glanced around, and with a quick eyeball check he was pretty sure that the laughing beauty was drawing nearly every man’s attention. Playing the odds, he knew that if he didn’t bust a move soon, a worthwhile competitor would surely knock him out of the game before he even got up to bat.