Blake's Choice (3 page)

Chapter Three

I just had sex with Blake Hawley.
More to the point, she’d just had mind-blowingly amazing sex with the hottest man she’d ever met. Her pussy clenched just remembering.

“Mmm.” Blake’s moan vibrated through his chest as she contracted around him, his still half-hard dick twitching inside her. “That was nice. Do it again.”

“Are you kidding?” Involuntary spasms were probably the only movements she was capable of right then. Testing that theory, Mandy levered herself upright, and the motion sent his cock deeper inside her. “Oh, God.” Carefully, she manoeuvred herself off him, almost whimpering as he slid out of her, instantly feeling the emptiness. She collapsed onto the tile beside him, panting, and finally looked at his face.

He was smirking again, the bastard, and those incredible teal eyes were lit with devilment. He leaned over and kissed her, not the same hot, I-need-you-naked-and-writhing-right-now kiss that he’d used before, but a simmering kind of kiss, an open-mouthed, we’ve-just-had-smoking-sex-and-I’m-gearing-up-for-round-two kiss. At least, she hoped that was what it was.

He raised his head, and the smirk was gone, his gaze intense. “Bathroom?”

She pointed down the hall. “Second on the left.”

He stood with one graceful movement, something Mandy had never managed, and disappeared in the direction she’d indicated. As soon as he was out of sight, she let her head fall back and closed her eyes. Wow. Beyond wow. Like, were men actually allowed to be that good? Wasn’t there a law that said if a man was hot, rich and successful in his chosen career, he had to be a dud in bed? Maybe he was only good for one round.

“Are you still here?”

She snapped her eyes open. Blake stood in front of her, now naked, his cock semi-aroused as he smiled down at her. “Uh…”

He reached down a hand, and she took it automatically, then stood when he tugged. “Where’s your bedroom?”

Mandy dragged her brain back into gear, and flashed her flirtiest smile. “Right this way.” She started to lead him down the hall, then stopped. “Wait.” She let go of his hand and stripped off what remained of her clothes. Naked, she tugged the clip from her hair and let it fall around her shoulders. “Much better. Come on, tiger, I’ve got plans for you.” He laughed, and the warm masculine sound heated her insides better than any porn ever could. She grabbed hold of his arm and practically dragged him to her bedroom.

* * * *

Blake stretched lazily without opening his eyes, muscles extending and sockets popping. Man, there was nothing like a sex marathon to loosen things up. He smiled, thinking about the amazing, sometimes depraved, and entirely decadent couple of days he’d just had. Hmm, Monday morning had never felt so good.

He rolled over, reaching out for Mandy’s hot little body, but found nothing. He opened his eyes and sat up. The room was dim, but sunlight glowed around the edges of the drawn curtains.

The bed was empty. Blake frowned and slid out of bed, then crossed naked to the en- suite bathroom. Also empty. He took care of business, then wandered out into the rest of the apartment. The air held that still kind of quiet that indicated emptiness. Maybe Mandy had gone to work. It was Monday morning, after all. But why hadn’t she woken him?

He found his answer on the kitchen table. A white paper napkin sat on the wood surface, exactly where Mandy had sat while he’d had his “breakfast” yesterday. Buoyed by the memory, he grabbed the napkin.

Gone to work. This was great—glad I got drunk Friday. See you around.

Mandy

Blake read the note again, then a third time. Was she brushing him off? He hadn’t got a brush off since…maybe it was high school? More to the point, why was she brushing him off? She’d had a good time, he could guaran-damn-tee that, and he’d planned to carry right on. But her note said, pretty damn clearly, that she wanted him gone when she got home.

Fuck.

Well, that was that. He wasn’t going to hang around until she got home from work like some creepy loser. Where the hell were his clothes?

Ten minutes later, his truck idling at a red light, he thought about it again. He was no creepy loser, but there was no reason why he couldn’t call her. Later though. In the meantime…he grabbed his cell and punched speed dial.

“Yeah?”

“Daniel, Blake. How’s it going?”

“Aw, man, I’m not going to gossip like a little girl.”

Blake laughed. “And yet you seem to know exactly what’s going on.” The light changed, and he accelerated smoothly through the intersection.

“Mandy’s Karen’s best friend. I probably knew you were going to get some before you did.”

“So I can trust her?”

“Yes.” Daniel spoke absolutely, conviction solid in his voice. “She won’t sell you out.”

“Great.” Although he hadn’t really been worried about it, he still felt better for the reassurance. “She got any major hang-ups I should know about?”

“Mandy? Nah. Just the usual woman crap.” Daniel paused. “Why?” He suddenly sounded wary.

“No reason.” Daniel might be a good friend, but Blake wasn’t going to pour out his troubles like a little girl. “Thanks, man. See you later.”

Daniel mumbled something in response, probably already thinking about his latest project, and Blake disconnected the call.

* * * *

Mandy closed her front door and flipped the lock. It had surprised her how disappointed she’d been when she’d seen Blake’s truck had gone. It was silly. Why would he still have been there, especially after her barely-polite note?

And that was another thing. What had possessed her to write that note? ‘See you around’? Could she have been any more dismissive? She hadn’t even given him her phone number. What kind of idiot had sex with Blake Hawley and forgot to give him her phone number?

“My kind of idiot, that’s who.” She dumped her purse on the hall table and kicked off her heels. She’d put them away later. Padding into the kitchen in stockinged feet, she went straight to the freezer for ice cream. Not dinner food, but…

The phone rang as she dug in the cutlery drawer for a spoon, and Mandy made a face. That would be Karen, whose calls she’d been avoiding all day.

“As much as I want to re-hash the good bits,” Mandy told the ringing phone, “I don’t want to hear your verdict on the finish. So, leave a message.” As if on cue, the ringing stopped and the answering machine kicked in. Mandy scooped up a spoonful of ice cream and waited for the beep.

“Mandy, Blake here.” She dropped the spoon. “I hope you don’t mind, I got your number from Karen. We didn’t get to say goodbye this morning, and I just wanted you to know it was a really great weekend. Call me back”—
oh, my God
—“you have my number. Talk soo—”

“Blake? Hi. Sorry, I was…”
Think, Mandy!
“…in the other room.” She cringed. Talk about lame.

“No problem.” There was the ghost of a laugh in his voice. “Busy day?”

“Uh”—she bent and picked up the spoon—“not outrageously so. Lots of crappy little things that needed to be done. You?”

He laughed, and her insides melted. “Nah, nothing exciting going on here. So, have you eaten?”

Mandy grabbed some paper towels and mopped ice cream from the floor. “No, I only got in a minute ago.”

“Let’s go out for dinner. Chinese?”

She paused.
Did Blake Hawley just ask me on a date?
“Uh, sure. I love Chinese.”

“Great. I’ll swing through and pick you up in about thirty minutes. See you then.”

Mandy murmured something vague and set the receiver back in the cradle. She stared at it for a long moment, then sighed and picked it up, punching speed dial. “Karen?”

* * * *

Mandy sat across the table from Blake and turned her water glass around and around.
Crap
. She was never a shy person.
What the hell is wrong with me?

“Mandy?” She jumped, and heat climbed into her cheeks. Blake was smiling, not mockingly, but with an amused edge. She smiled in response, feeling a little sheepish.

“Yeah. It’s weird, huh?”

“Not weird, exactly.” He leant back to allow the waiter to set their food down. “Maybe a little awkward.”

Mandy picked up her chopsticks. She had a precarious ability to use them, although she did occasionally revert to stabbing them into food. Blake, on the other hand, looked completely at ease.

She managed a few rather neat bites before deciding to distract him. “Can I ask a semi-personal question? You can reserve the right to refuse to answer.”

He gave a little half-shrug. “Ask.”

“What do you do now?” She scooped up some noodles.

“Oh.” Blake sat back. “I thought… I don’t mind answering that. I have enough money to not do anything. But mostly I write. I’m published under the name Benjamin Horley.”

Mandy dropped her chopsticks. “I’ve read you! I mean, your books.” She looked down at the mess she’d made and grimaced. At least she hadn’t dirtied her clothes, just the tablecloth. She used her napkin to blot the worst of it. “You’re a great writer. A couple of months ago, Karen and I were talking about how you never tour. Oh.”

“Yeah. My publisher wanted to use my real name for publicity, but it’s written into my contracts that I’m to be kept strictly anonymous.”

Mandy shifted, uncomfortable and not sure what to say. He was clearly protective of his privacy, and although she wanted to ask about the circumstances behind his retirement, she didn’t want to ruin whatever it was between them.

“Mandy.” He was smiling again, so clearly she hadn’t offended him. The tightness in her chest, that she hadn’t even realised had been there, slowly released. “I don’t like to talk about it. But if I don’t want to answer a question, I’ll just say so. No hard feelings.”

Relieved, she grinned. “Okay then.” Emboldened by his encouragement, she slid her foot forward under the table and brushed her ankle against his. Their gazes met, and the blazing heat in his teal eyes was rewarded by a definite flutter in her pussy.

She cleared her throat. “So…”

Blake laughed. “So. Tell me, what do you do for a living?”

She left her foot where it was, gently brushing it against his whenever either of them moved, but relaxed back in her seat. “I’m an events planner. I work for Cardigan Toys.”

“Ah. The toy parties.”

“Yep. It’s really cool, planning the parties. I love thinking like a kid. But I have this great charity event on the go right now. We started the planning about six weeks ago, and I’m so excited. It’s going to be a picnic, because we want families there, and we’ll have games and prizes, live music, appearances by cartoon characters. The works.” Mandy sucked in a breath and stopped herself. “Sorry. I’m rambling.”

Blake shook his head. “No, it’s great to see someone so enthusiastic about their job. Most people these days are just phoning it in.” He rubbed his foot up her calf, and tingles followed.

She swallowed. “Um. Are you finished?”

“Yes. Unless you want dessert? Fried ice-cream?”

Mandy shook her head. “No.”

Blake’s smile was wickedly sensual. “Let’s go, then.”

* * * *

Mandy rummaged through her purse, pretending to look for something, but really just trying to hide the fact that she was fighting tears.

Don’t be such a baby.
So what if the almost four weeks since their first weekend together had been amazing? So what if she’d started to think she and Blake might have something going for them? Clearly he didn’t agree. The last three times they’d been together, it had been like he hadn’t really been there.

Still, when he’d asked her, when she was on her way out the door this morning, if she’d meet him for lunch, she’d thought maybe he’d snapped out of it. That maybe it had just been a funk.

If he wanted to stop seeing her, she wished he’d just say so.

“Mandy?”

Oh, God, this is it. Why does he have to do this in a public place?
She drew in a deep breath and lifted her head, forcing a smile. “Yes?” She met his gorgeous teal gaze. The muscles in his jaw tightened.

“I’ve been thinking, the last couple days… Things have been going pretty fast with us.”

Her fake smile made her cheeks ache, so she let it go and nodded. “Yeah.” Her grip on her purse tightened. As soon as he said the words, she was outta here.

“And it’s been a while since I was in a relationship.”

Just say it, already!

“But I’m not freaked out. That’s how I know what we have is pretty special.”

It took a moment for the words to sink in, then hope soared. “Uh…yeah. I think so, too.”

Blake took a deep breath. “Sorry, I’m a bit nervous. I’ve never done this before.” He held his hand out to her, palm up. She stared at the key resting there, her brain not processing.

“It’s to my condo.”

Chapter Four

After two months, Mandy still couldn’t quite believe she was in a relationship with Blake Hawley. Although, most of the time she forgot that he was Blake Hawley, the rock star, and just thought of him as her boyfriend Blake.

Blake, her boyfriend. And really, he was everything a woman could want in a boyfriend—considerate, affectionate, hot, wealthy and a demon in the sack. Just thinking about it made her wet.

Concentrate, Mandy!
The sooner she finished what she was doing, the sooner she could go to Blake’s place. He’d promised to cook for her—he was a really good cook—and when she’d called to tell him she’d be late, he’d said something about a bubble bath.

Thinking of wet, slippery Blake was not conducive to work. She pushed it out of her mind and focused on the press release she was putting together. She’d managed to book The Shit Kickers, an up-and-coming local band, for the charity picnic, and for the past months had been arranging different forms of media exposure with the hope of boosting ticket sales.

 
A few minutes later, she pushed her chair back from the desk and stretched. Two more weeks and it would be over, and she could return to regular working hours. No more late nights, and lots more time to spend with Blake.

Speaking of… She picked up her cell and hit the speed dial then shut down the computer while the phone rang.

“Hey, babe. You on your way home?” As usual, she tingled all over at the sound of his mellow voice.

“I’m just about to leave. I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Do you need me to pick anything up?”

“Nah, we’re good. I’ll see you soon.”

Mandy disconnected and picked up her purse. It hadn’t escaped her that she and Blake were becoming the epitome of domesticity.

She was only a few blocks from Blake’s place when her cell rang, Karen’s name flashing up on the display.

“Yo,” she said, riding a wave of buoyancy. Karen laughed.

“Yo to you too. In a good mood, are we?”

“Yeah. Work done for the day and on my way to a home-cooked meal and some hot lovin’.”

“Hot lovin’? Really?” Amusement rang in Karen’s voice as Mandy pulled up in front of Blake’s condo.

“Yep. And don’t you laugh at me, when we both know you have some hot lovin’ on the cards for tonight too.” She turned off the engine and grabbed her purse, but stayed in her seat.

“Touché,” Karen conceded. “Anyway, the reason I called was to make sure you got me and Daniel tickets to your fundraiser. Daniel promised to write a big cheque, but we want to come to the picnic too. He likes scoping crowds for inspiration.” Daniel was the internationally renowned sculptor Crogan.

“Yep, I’ve got tickets for you both. I thought you could come with me and Blake, share a picnic.”

Silence.

“Karen? You there?”

“I’m here.” Karen’s tone was even, and she spoke slowly. “So, Blake said he’d come to the picnic?”

Mandy blinked. “Well…not in so many words, but he knows I have to go. I guess I just assumed he’d come too. He’s my boyfriend after all, and he’s pretty big on togetherness.”

“Yeah.” Karen sounded distracted. “Listen, you might want to talk to him about it. He generally doesn’t like to be out in crowds.”

“I know.” Mandy frowned as she opened the car door. She hadn’t considered that Blake might not come with her to the picnic. It was one of the highlights of her career, an event that would draw thousands and hopefully raise a buttload of money for a children’s charity. “Listen, Karen, I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

She slammed the car door, shoved her phone into a pocket and hurried to the front door. She unlocked it with her key. That was a big deal, right? A guy didn’t give you a key to his house unless he was pretty serious about you. And if you were serious about someone, you supported them in their career.

Right?

“That you, babe?”

Her knees weakened at the sound of Blake’s mellow voice.
I wonder if that will ever go away?

“Yeah.” She shut the door and kicked off her shoes before padding down the hallway to the kitchen. As expected, Blake was there, the table set and something that smelt delicious was simmering on the stove.

“Hey.” Blake put down his beer and crossed the room. His kiss warmed her from the inside out, and she relaxed into his arms. He was so loving…of course he’d come to the picnic and support her.

She pulled back and smiled at him. “Hey.”

“Come and eat.” He took her hand and led her to her seat, then went to dish up dinner. By the time he’d settled into his chair across from her and she’d dug into her stir-fry, she was back to secure and confident.

“So”—she scooped up some noodles—“I was just talking to Karen. She and Daniel are going to share a picnic with us at the fundraiser. This is amazing, by the way.”

“What?” Blake put down his fork, frowning.

Mandy looked up. “I said, this is amazing. You’re such a great cook.”

“Thanks.” He waved the compliment away. “But what I meant was, what do you mean about Daniel and Karen sharing a picnic with us?”

“Well…” A lump settled in Mandy’s stomach. “Well, I just thought since we’re all going to be there, we might as well eat together. And I’ll be on call helping with details all day, so at least this way you’ll have friends to hang out with.”

“That would make sense, except I’m not going to the picnic.”

Mandy’s stomach dropped, lump and all. “You’re not going?” Her chest was tight, and she swallowed hard.

“No. You know I don’t go anywhere with big crowds.” His teal gaze held hers, steady and sure, even though she knew her distress must be written all over her face.

“Yeah, but I was hoping… I mean, this is so important to me. I thought maybe you could wear a hat and sunglasses or something. It’s a picnic, everyone will be, so you wouldn’t stand out.”

Blake shook his head. “Babe, I’m sorry, but I’m not going to risk it. The press will be there, and if The Shit Kickers are performing, there’ll be a whole lot of rock fans. I’ve stayed out of the spotlight this long, there’s no way I’m taking the chance that that will change.”

Mandy bit her lip and glanced away, blinking back tears. “Blake…” She paused and cleared her throat. “Blake, this is really important to me.”

He sighed, leant back in his chair and ran a hand through his hair. “Mandy, I wish it could be different, but I’m sorry.”

Mandy swallowed, her throat suddenly dry, and pushed away her plate. “Okay. Okay. Um.” She stared fixedly at the table and wished she could pretend it didn’t matter.

“Come on, finish your dinner.” Blake’s voice was gentle, but that just made it worse.

“I-I’m not hungry. I think I’ll go have a shower.” She scraped back her chair and stood, still unable to meet his gaze.

“Mandy? You’re not going to sulk over this, are you?”

She sucked in a deep breath and forced herself to look at him. “No, of course not. I’m…disappointed, but I understand.” She stretched her mouth into a smile. “I’m just tired. I can’t wait until this is over.”

Blake smiled. “All right. Have a bath instead of a shower, it’ll help you relax.”

She murmured an agreement and hustled out of the kitchen and upstairs to the bathroom. She closed the door and started the water running, then fished her phone out of her pocket and speed-dialled Karen.

“Hey.” Her best friend sounded sympathetic. “You talked to Blake, didn’t you?”

* * * *

Mandy was already curled up in bed when Blake entered the bedroom. The lights were off, the only illumination following him in from the hall. She’d pulled the quilt up around her neck, and his stomach sank. She may have said she was all right with him not going to the picnic, but clearly she was upset.

He went into the bathroom and closed the door before he switched on the light. He wasn’t sure if she was actually asleep, but he didn’t want to disturb her if she was.

What the hell was he going to do? He hated that he’d upset Mandy, but he couldn’t go to the picnic. If someone recognised him… He shuddered. Maybe he could make it up to her some other way. He rushed through his usual bathroom routine. The first—and least—thing he could do was cuddle her.

He flipped off the light—again, just in case—and opened the door. She was still huddled under the quilt. He turned off the light in the hall, then paused to let his eyes adjust to the sudden darkness before he crossed to the bed.

As soon as he crawled into bed, he knew she was still awake. She was tenser than a bowstring. “Mandy?”

There was a long, stiff silence. “Yeah?”

“Are you okay?” Another long silence, then she rolled over.

“I’m upset,” she said bluntly, and he thanked God that she hadn’t just said, ‘
I’m fine’
.

“About the picnic.”

“Yes!” The mattress bounced, and a second later the lamp went on. Blake squinted at Mandy, sitting up and glaring at him. “Of course about the picnic! What else could I be upset about?”

Blake didn’t think ‘how should I know’ would be a good answer. “Baby, I know this is really important to you. But you have to understand that it’s important to me too.” He sat up and tentatively put his arms around her.

She didn’t pull away, instead laid her head against his shoulder. “I know.”

Guilt welled. She sounded so forlorn. He bent his head and kissed her hair, then sighed.

“You know what happened, right? Why I stopped performing?”

He felt her nod against his collarbone. “The thing about being a musician is that there are always people around who want photos, autographs—” he paused—“sex, or even just to talk to you. It got annoying at times, but mostly I loved it, because I loved performing, and those people all wanted to be part of the music.”

Mandy pulled back from him, straightening, and pushed her hair back from her face. “So you genuinely liked your fans.”

He reached out and took her hand. “Yeah. Mostly. There’s always the occasional dickhead, you know? But overall they were fun, and I did like them. And I liked encouraging them. That radio competition? They ran the idea past my publicist first. The winner got tickets, backstage passes and dinner with me and the band. It was just going to be takeout, but still. I thought it was a great idea—I loved the idea of fans competing over who loved me more.” The familiar guilt rose, choking him. He swallowed hard. “How egotistical is that?”

Mandy squeezed his hand. “You’re a rock star, Blake. You’re supposed to be egotistical. Obviously, the radio station thought this was all normal. They do ticket giveaway competitions all the time. I’m sure their legal people have to approve them, or something.” Her tone was earnest, and he knew she wanted him to feel better.

He sighed. “I know. But when Dale—that was his name, by the way, Dale Grange—when he was standing there, looking at me… His face, I’ll never forget the look on his face. He seemed happy. He was holding a gun, and at first I thought he was going to shoot me and I was terrified. And then he pointed it at himself, and he was shouting…” He was shaking, he realised distantly. Mandy climbed into his lap and wrapped her arms around him, and he breathed in the scent of her shampoo.

“Stop.” Her voice was muffled against his chest. “You don’t need to explain this to me.”

He squeezed to show her how much he appreciated her faith. “Yeah, I do. You’re so important to me, Mandy. I want you to understand that—it’s not a little thing that stops me from being there for you. I saw a shrink for more than a year after that night. For a long time, I couldn’t close my eyes without seeing Dale shoot himself, and hear him shouting… ‘I’m your biggest fan, and I’ll die to prove it’.” Even after so long, thinking about it brought him out in a cold sweat. “After that, I was so afraid to encourage fans. What if they felt they needed to prove themselves? Or what if someone decided to copy Dale? I told my manager and publicist no more backstage passes. Then I decided no more autographs, then no more interviews… In the end, my performances were shit, because I was afraid of the fans. And so I stopped.”

They sat in silence for a long time. Mandy snuggled in Blake’s arms, holding him tight. She was warm and soft and smelt good, and despite the pain of retelling his personal nightmare, he felt more relaxed than he had in ages.

 
She tipped her head back, meeting his gaze, and he kissed her lips. For a moment she sat passively, then she opened her mouth and kissed him back. She slid her hands up to rest on his chest, and she lightly scratched her nails over his nipples.

Blake growled and fell back against the mattress, dragging her on top of him. She was wearing one of his T-shirts, the cotton wrapping her in soft folds. He stripped it off her swiftly, only slightly hampered by Mandy’s attempt to help. Finally she was naked, straddling him, and he pulled her down and nuzzled her neck, loving the now-familiar way her body trembled under his touch.

 
“Blake…” He didn’t know if it was a protest or encouragement. He took it as the latter.

He was already so hard his dick throbbed, and as he nibbled and licked his way down her torso she made the mewling noises he loved to hear, her body shifting beneath his mouth. Her skin was so sensitive, it was as if every time he touched her, he was branding her, and the involuntary reactions were the sexiest things he’d ever seen. He paused in his exploration to play with her breasts, circling his tongue over the creamy flesh but carefully avoiding her nipples, and she made a sound of pure frustration. She clenched her hands in his hair and yanked, and he obediently clamped his teeth down. She cried out, her hips lifting, and his dick rubbed against the soft skin of her thigh, his balls tightening.
Keep it together.