Because I’m Dominic Fucking Kinkaide….and that’s what I do.
Chapter Five
“Why won’t you f**k me?” Amy asks me, out of the blue.
I look up in surprise.
After Amy slipped out of my hotel room in the middle of the night, we met here on set for breakfast, and have been curled up in my trailer for the past hour. As we wait to be called into makeup, Amy’s got her head buried in a magazine, but she’s staring over the top of it now, her blue eyes accusatory.
“Excuse me?” I ask stiltedly, although I heard exactly what she said.
“Why won’t you f**k me?” Amy demands again. “Everyone on the planet wants to f**k me, and I offer myself to you on a platter and you won’t do it. Not really. You have no problems f**king me up the ass or letting me suck you off….but you won’t actually f**k me. I want to know why. I know you don’t have a problem getting it up. So what is the problem?”
Icy pangs shoot through my heart and I try to ignore them, to push them back down to where they belong. I knew this was coming.
I knew this was coming, I remind myself. A confrontation about what is wrong with me. I knew it.
But knowing it never makes it any easier.
“I don’t have a problem,” I answer icily, staring her down, her blue eyes locking with my own green ones. “Just because I won’t f**k you, you think I have a problem?”
She shrugs with her slender shoulders. “You must. Everyone wants to f**k me.”
She’s tense now, poised stiffly on the edge of her seat, prepared for rejection as she waits for me to answer. I know her. I know what she thinks, how she feels. And like most artists, she’s secretly insecure. She’s afraid that there’s something wrong with her and that’s why I don’t want to f**k her.
I don’t allay that fear. I’m not a good enough person for that. She doesn’t hesitate to cut people down to size simply because she feels like being a bitch. I feel no guilt over not soothing her ego right now.
“Maybe everyone does,” I tell her as nonchalantly as I can. “But I don’t. Not right now.”
She sits up straighter, her shoulders back and her chin stuck out. “Oh, really? And why exactly is that?”
I stare at her coolly. “Because I don’t feel like it. Too much drama. You’d only fall in love with me.”
I play it off like that, like I’m arrogant and cold and like I really believe my own words. Everything’s an act, you see. And this is part of my character. I’m an arrogant a**hole.
Except, of course, I really am. At this point in my life, the act has become my reality.
But regardless of my words, I’m not afraid she’d fall in love with me. That’s not the reason that I haven’t f**ked her… or that I haven’t actually f**ked someone in six years. Six. Fucking Years.
Six years since it happened.
The mere thought of it, of her, constricts my heart tightly in my chest, like a f**king vise grip has its claws wrapped around it.
Emma.
A vision of her wide blue eyes sparkling at me ripples through my memory and I squeeze my eyes shut to close her out. Reaching into my pocket, I grip the necklace, her necklace, allowing my fingers to trace over the cool aquamarine. It’s the only thing that helps, the only thing that calms me down. It reminds me.
And makes me forget.
“Dominic?” Amy snaps, bringing me back to the present, and away from Emma’s glistening eyes.
I open my own.
“What?”
“What’s wrong with you?” she asks curiously, her eyes softening just a bit as she stares at me. I realize that I’m clammy and cold. Anxious. On edge.
This is what Emma does to me even now.
I put her out of my mind and turn my attention to the needy woman in front of me.
I force a grin. “Nothing’s wrong. At all.”
Amy stares at me. “Then prove it. When we’re done here, let’s go on a date. Take me to the Tower of London, then take me back to your hotel room and make me scream your name tonight.”
“You scream my name on a regular basis,” I point out wryly. She rolls her eyes.
“You know what I mean. I want your penis inside my body while I’m screaming it this time. For real.”
I shake my head, then run one finger over the swell of her fully clothed hip.
“Can’t. Not tonight. I can take you to the Tower, but then I’m flying out to Amsterdam to see my brothers. I’ll have to take a raincheck.”
Amy’s interested now. “Sin and Duncan? I want to go. You know I love seeing the Devil’s Own. Maybe you can make me scream your name in Amsterdam, instead. In fact, let’s make a bet. I bet you that I can make you want to f**k me before we leave Amsterdam.”
That’s never going to happen.
But I don’t say that. Instead, I smile.
“And if you win?”
She smiles back. “Then you get to f**k me. That’s your prize.”
“And if I win?”
Amy scowls now, displeased by the mere thought that I might not want her. “If you win, your prize will be not having to hear me bitch about this anymore, because we’ll be done. You’ll go your way and I’ll go mine.”
“Interesting,” I reply calmly. “So basically, if I don’t f**k you by the time we leave Amsterdam tomorrow night, we’re done?”
She nods, pleased by what she thinks is her ultimatum. What she doesn’t understand is that I don’t give a flying f**k if I ever see her again…at least, in a personal capacity. She thinks she’s got all the power and control in this equation, but she’s wrong.
I’m going to see exactly what she’s willing to do to get me to f**k her… and then I’ll leave her without looking back.
I smile. “Okay. Challenge accepted.”
She smiles back and cups my crotch with her thin fingers.
“You’re going to like this.”
“I’m sure,” I answer. Because I know I will, but ultimately, Amy won’t. You don’t try to push me around—or manipulate me.
It will never end well for you.
********
“Dude,” my brother Sin shouts into the phone. “What the hell? You don’t call for weeks, then you call right before I step onstage?”
So that explains the loud screaming and noise in the background. Everyone is waiting for my rockstar brother to appear.
“Sorry, bro,” I answer, unconcerned. “Just calling to tell you that I’ll be there later tonight. I can’t make your show, but Tally figured out a way to fit a visit into my schedule at least.”
That perks up Sin’s attention and he hollers to our other brother Duncan. “Hey, little D. Dom’s coming to the party tonight. Order more hookers.”
He cackles into the phone and I have to laugh….at several things. One, because he called Duncan little. Like Sin and me, Duncan is tall. Really tall. 6’4 or so. Broad-shouldered, slim-hipped. Not little in the slightest. And two, that he’s ordering hookers in Amsterdam. The irony of it, because he’s surrounded by groupies all of the time who would do anything he asks… for free.
“Hookers?” I ask dubiously. Sin snorts into the phone.
“It’s Amsterdam,” he says, by way of explanation. “We can’t come into Amsterdam and not visit the red light district. That would be sacrilege.”
It’s my turn to snort.
“The red light district?” I chuckle. “And how exactly are you and baby brother Duncan going to slip into the red light district unseen by paparazzi?”
I can practically feel Sin shrug through the phone. Because he doesn’t give a flying fuck.
“I don’t care if they see me or not,” he answers flippantly. “I don’t live my life according to what they think is acceptable or not. And speaking of that, I’ve got to go. Are you going to be here for my party or not?”
“Yes.”
He hangs up without another word and I glance over at my manager. “It’s going to be a long night.”
Tally grins without even looking up from his smartphone. “Yep. You might want to drink a few cans of Red Bull, old man.”
I shake my head. “Do you have any?”
Tally glances up. “I had them stock the plane with it, enough for Amy too. She’ll need it if she’s going to keep up with you.” He pauses, then stares at me. “Be careful how you treat her. The public loves to see you starring together. You’ve got to think of your image, first and foremost.”
“I’m very close to being done with her,” I tell him calmly. “I’m not going to stay with her just to satisfy public perception.”
Tally continues his stare-down. “And I would never suggest that. I’m just telling you to let her down with respect. Don’t treat her like a whore. Break up like a normal person.”
I pause, considering that. “But what if she acts like a whore?”
Tally shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. Be a gentleman. The public loves that about you.”
“Is Amy already headed out to the plane?” I ask, grabbing a gulp of Tally’s drink.
“The last I heard, yes,” Tally answers, getting to his feet and straightening his jacket. “Although, she got into an altercation in the lobby with some fans. Some little girl wanted her autograph and Amy went off on her for invading her personal space. For fuck’s sake, Amy needs some lessons in PR. She’s a nightmare. You ready?”