Home > First Touch (First and Last #1)(63)

First Touch (First and Last #1)(63)
Author: Laurelin Paige

Also, with each day that passed without looking for Amber, it was getting easier to forget that I meant to be doing that.

“Fuck two days,” Reeve said.

“What exactly does that mean?”

“It means that my ranch manager from Wyoming happens to be in town along with some of his crew.”

I nearly dropped my phone at the mention of Wyoming – the last place Amber had been with Reeve.

“I have meetings with them throughout the day,” Reeve continued. “But I’ve also invited them for dinner at my house. I’ve decided you’ll join us.”

“Really?” I was almost as excited about him showing me off as I was about whom he wanted to show me off to.

“And afterward, if things go well, I’m going to fuck you in the ass. Prepare for that however you see fit.”

I let out a laugh that showed more nervousness than I wanted it to. “Thank you for the warning.”

“My pleasure.” His tone was low and gruff. “And yours, of course.”

After we hung up, I clutched my phone to my chest, heart pounding, trying to process the news. After all the time waiting, time that took me farther and farther away from finding Amber, I’d finally gotten a break. While it was entirely possible that I might not get the chance to ask any of the Wyoming staff anything useful, at least it was an opportunity. An opportunity that I planned to make the best of.

The acceleration in my pulse wasn’t just because I was looking forward to dinner though. The after plans also had me anxious. I wasn’t opposed to them, necessarily. I might even be excited about them. I’d been with men who’d given me the best orgasms of my life with a backdoor entry. I’d also been with men who’d hurt me so bad that I’d blacked out from the pain. It was never a position I agreed to without trepidation.

Honestly, it was never a position I agreed to at all. But since I seemed to have no willpower with men, I didn’t ever refuse either. Sometimes that worked out in my favor. Most of the time… well, most of the time when it came to anal sex, my favor wasn’t part of the equation.

So far, Reeve hadn’t taken me too far, but I believed he could. I believed sometimes he wanted to. The question was did I trust him to be careful with me in this area? And did it even matter if I didn’t? Because I knew damn well not to trust myself to know my limits.

Chris and I had spent the last hour talking about the part on NextGen. I’d advised him on his resume and listened to him read through the audition piece. Now it was time to segue to the topic of Missy.

I just hadn’t figured out how to do that yet, whether I should casually drop her name or plunge straight in.

“Hey, I appreciate all this, by the way,” Chris said. “Let me get you a beer as a thank you.” He scooted out from the banquette and headed to the fridge.

I took a deep breath. “Hey. There’s something I’ve been thinking about since the last time I saw you.” Plunging in it was then.

“Shoot.” Chris shut the door with his foot and started back with two Coronas.

Here I go. “Missy Mataya.” I braced myself, not sure if the subject was a sensitive one or not.

He slowed his steps, his expression suddenly reserved. “What about her?”

A sensitive one, then. I’d have to tread lightly. “Well, she’s the mystery of the century. I’ve never met anyone who actually knew her.” I paused, hoping my curiosity seemed innocent. “And you said you visited the Sallis Resorts with her – does that mean you were around when she was dating him?”

He twisted the cap off a bottle and handed it to me. “Yep. I was.”

“Damn.” I took a swig and let the pause hang, hoping he’d volunteer more. When he didn’t, I pushed. “So?”

“So… what?” Chris studied me. “You want to know if I think he did it?”

His tone said he was annoyed, but there was no backing down now. I lifted my chin. “Yeah. I do.”

He scrutinized me. Then, with a huff, he shook his head and took a swallow of his beer.

I felt like such a scandalmonger, ready to feed on the gossip like every other person you meet in Hollywood. The press hacks, the paparazzi, the starfuckers, the wannabe celebs. I was as disgusted with myself as he was.

All I could do was own it. “That’s really tacky, isn’t it? I’m sorry. I’m too curious for my own good. I really don’t mean to be that asshole.”

The acknowledgment seemed to be all Chris needed. “It’s fine. People used to ask all the time and it was bothersome, but I haven’t thought about it now in a while, so it’s really fine.” He slid into the seat across from me. “It was rough back then, though.”

“I’m sure it was. Losing a friend is never easy. No matter what the circumstances.” At least this part came naturally when improvising, so much of it stolen from my own life script.

Chris took a long pull on his beer. “I was lucky though. I wasn’t working a lot then and I got to spend a lot of time with her those last months.”

“That’s why you were at the resort in the Springs?”

He nodded. “She’d call me and tell me she was lonely so I’d drive down there. Hang out until I had another audition. Drive back. Good times.”

I allowed him a moment for the memory before asking, “Why was she lonely? Wasn’t she dating Reeve Sallis?” It felt strange to say his name in such a detached way, as though I had no connection to him. As though he were someone I knew from infamy rather than someone I knew intimately.

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