Stone: At Your Service (Carolina Bad Boys #1) (15 page)

“
Work boots.” All-seeing Jules commanded the backstage chaos with one eye on everyone.

It was giving me the fucking heebie-jeebies.

A pair of scuffed up Timberlands were offered. I was prodded to a mirror. Wearing low-riding dark brown leathers and nothing else, the snug fit was downright indecent. They cupped my junk, my ass, and left little to the imagination.

“
He’s perfect!” Fuchsia-streaks shrieked.

Jules stopped beside me long enough to yank the leathers an inch lower so my Jesus
crease showed. “Now he’s purrrrfect.”

“
Ah-mazing.” A lady with a mouthful of pins piped up. She accepted a bottle of oil and handed it to me. “Slick up, Stone.”

I held the offending article up to my face.
“Huh?”

Fuchsia hair called over,
“To show off the cuts of your muscles.”

“
To make you a
cut above
,” Jules confirmed. When I continued to hesitate, she took up a drill sergeant stance, bellowing through the bullhorn, “Do I need to make you drop for twenty?”

“
No, ma’am,” I replied sullenly.

I uncapped the bottle to pour oil into my palm. I rubbed it all over my chest, my abs,
my shoulders. The atmosphere in the small backstage area was electric, filled with big men puffing up even bigger, herded from station to station. Our egos probably sucked all the oxygen from the room. Sweat dripped down the middle of my back as I tried to reach between my shoulder blades.

“
You need help there, braw?” a buff blond dude asked.

“
Nah, I got it.” I stretched a little farther, twisted a little harder.

He snatched the slick from me.
“No need to be proud. I’ll just do your traps and obliques.”

I forced myself to remain still as he massaged my back, hitting all those places I couldn
’t get to on account of not being a contortionist. Thank fuck, Jules hadn’t made this a backstage show; the crowd, Hens, Widows, women would’ve loved a view of this.

“
Pull those pants lower.” Big Blond’s fingertips slipped just above my ass-crack before he smacked my left cheek. “Chicks like to see some of that. Nice bod, by the way. Are you auditioning for cover model?”

I thanked him for basically
grooming and groping me and turned around. “Not really. Miss Gem roped me into this.”

The guy before me had the whole package.
Pretty boy face and dimples. Long blond hair. Shoulders ripped with muscles. If I didn’t possess a healthy ego myself, I’d have gone off and cried in a corner.

“
She’s a right bitch, but she makes the magic happen.” He patted my ribs. “Good luck, man.”

“
Places, people!” Jules single-filed us. I wasn’t the show starter or the showstopper. I was the middle man, story of my life. “Don’t make me regret adding you to the line-up, Stone. Now get that squee-worthy ass ready.”

My nuts journeyed up into my body with her threat. No worries about sporting a woody now.

Several minutes later, from somewhere on the other side of the curtains came Jules’s introduction: “Welcome to the 7
th
Annual Literary Love cover model competition—hosted in conjunction with Fever Romance Publishing—Guys with Balls!”

S
creeches filled the air. It sounded like they came from a bunch of otherworldly banshees. But no, it was just the ladies revved up for the show. The blond Viking boy was up first. He took the house down. Shouts raised the roof, money probably fell into his jeans, and his jeans probably disintegrated down to a vinyl g-string.

“
Good crowd!” My masseur swaggered back through the curtains.

There were a couple more
men before me, and I zeroed in on the hairy-chested, ruffled-shirted rendition up next. It was the guy from the book cover in the elevator. Pirate of the Happy Peen, aka Rafael. He must’ve already had a million fans, and they erupted with bloodthirsty screams while he swashbuckled his way up and down the stage.

I peeked out when the dude before me took his turn. He was built like an army tank. I almost felt inadequate until I watched
him shake his ass and kiss his
guns
. That just made me roll my eyes.

Jules dj
’d, “Say hi to Marko, ladies! The louder you yell the more votes he gets. Marko’s fave place to make love is . . .”

The
ladies beyond the stage went freakin’ nutso.

“
In his bed!”

Boos followed his
sooo
boring answer.

One of Jules
’s minions raced up to me. “This is fail. You have to bring ’em back online.”

The
shouts became rabid.
“Eye candy! Bring on the eye candy!”

Catc
alls and wolf whistles shot through the crowd. “Stone! We want Stone!”

I
parted the curtains.

“
Hard as a Rock” by AC/DC blared through the speakers.

Strobes blinded
me, guitars deafened me, nerves chewed through me. Christ, even my palms were sweaty, not that anyone could tell. They were all greased up like the rest of me. But I sure as hell wasn’t gonna pull some candy-ass move like licking my biceps.

“
Introducing our Hard as Rock, smoking hot amateur. I give you STONE!!! Mr. Stone likes to take it all down low, down-home. Can I get a hell yes, ladies?”

The women positively salivated
, and I hadn’t so much as moved a step. Lifting my arms behind my head to tip my fedora forward, I scanned the feisty crowd. The Widows and Hens were front and center, seemingly competing for who could be the crudest, loudest, and rowdiest. Nicky winked at me. Leelee stood at the forefront, one palm pressed to her chest, her gaze penetrating me. With my arms raised, my muscles bunched and twisted, the leathers slipped even lower down my pelvis, and that was all it took to bring the noise level to an ear-bruising roar.

The song
wailed even louder, the badass beat pumping through my body. One thumb hooked into the pocket of my snug pants, I strutted down the runway.

It was an all-male meatfest. So this was the magic happening.
Magic Mike
maybe. I just needed to rub my crotch on a broomstick handle and Show Over.

The guttural AC/DC lyrics punched through me. It was all about sex. Fucking. Leelee. I saw her below me, thought about her beneath me. When I reached the end of the
mile-long runway, I rubbed a hand down my chest to my waist, tapping on a single silver button while I stared at her.

“
DO IT, STONE!” Jacqueline crammed four fingers into her mouth and blew out a screeching whistle.

Felicity jumped up and down, her glasses
knocking around on her nose. “Don’t be a pussy tease!”

Pulling the button open, I slipped one hand inside the skintight leathers and touched the
base of my cock. The shit was so tight I could hardly form an erection, but blood pounded to my groin nevertheless. Leelee unblinkingly watched every motion as I thrust my pelvis against my hand in time to the music. Dragging my palm up, I made sure the zipper pulled open, a thatch of pubic hair visible.

Swaying on her feet, Leelee skimmed her hands down her sides, swiveling her hips.

I’m gonna have that.

I doffed my fedora to the foaming-at-the-mouth melee, bowing deeply in Leelee
’s direction.

Hot spots shined on her cheeks.

Pretty damn pleased with myself, I made my retreat, catching a glimpse of Jules up and off to the left, urging the crowd on with her hands raised in the air.

I received a mess of back slaps backstage
. Handed a bottle of water and a towel, I stood aside to watch the rest of the men do their thing. I had to hand it to them, it took some kind of balls to get their kit off on book covers for everyone in the world to see, mingle with the man-hungry mobs, and still stand around to cheer one another on. I clinked—or rather, smushed—my bottle of water to the blond’s.

Things didn
’t go so happy for the next guy. He pushed through the curtains to a round of boos.

Army-tank gave him a burly hug.
“You and me both.”

“
Bitches be fickle. One year it’s blonds, the next it’s brunets. No one can predict the trends, but you did great out there.” My Viking mate soothed the man’s busted ego.

He was almost in tears.

“Tough crowd, man.” I patted his back.

“
Got that right.” He attempted a smile and glugged his water.

F
our models later, the competition was over. I couldn’t wait to get to Leelee so I rubbed as much sweat and oil off my body as I could and hurried to the front. The Hens and Widows had teamed up and taken over a couple tables where two pitchers of beer sat. As I approached, they all jumped up for a standing ovation and more whistles that made my footsteps stutter. My face got hot and I remembered I was wearing the bare essentials,
and
I’d forgotten to button back up. I hastily remedied my almost-flasher moment. Leelee followed the motion of my hands, making me even hotter as testosterone fueled every single cell in my body.

The b
ad news was there was nowhere to hide a boner in these pants, and the length, curve, and head of my cock were clearly visible.
Shit.
Nicky splashed some beer into a cup and cruised up to me. His eyes bright, his smile loose, he was halfway to drunk already.

I
accepted the drink with an arched eyebrow. “Forgive me for earlier, lover?”

He
slid his cheek against mine. “Maybe if you stop making hot sex eyes at Leelee,
babe.
”

I needed to get him trashed to get him off my back.

My song came on again causing the entire throng of models, oglers, and me to dance. I pushed against Leelee’s back, slipped my hand over her waist to the curve of her hip, my breath spilling against her ear. All my good intentions went right out the window.

She
pressed her ass into me with a gasped, “Stone.”

Jules
’s shrill voice jolted us apart. “And the winner of the Guys with Balls Contest and a twelve-month contract with Fever Romance is . . . RAFAEL!”

The porny pirate
—that figured. I bet my sword was bigger than his. I cheered him on while he accepted hugs, kisses, and prize shit on stage from Jules and the Editor-in-Chief of Fever.

My friends weren
’t into cheering though, they started jeering:

“
It was rigged.”

“
We demand a recount!”

Like I gave a fuck, honestly. The real win of the night was the unmistakable fact Leelee definitely saw me as a man, and the sexual interest sparking between
us burned brighter than ever before.

Fawn opened her mouth to complain
, but I clamped my hand over it before the Widows and Hens combined created a full-scale riot. “Don’t worry about it, y’all. I mean, I appreciate your loyalty, but Captain Cock deserved to win. Besides, I’m too busy with the . . . car dealership anyway. I just did it as a favor to Jules.”

Jacqueline
’s skin gleamed and her teeth glistened in a grin. “Always stay on her good side, ’cause she will
cut
you.”

Leelee
’s coy smile slid over me to land on Nicky. “
Mm hmm
. And besides, you seemed to think Captain Cock was kind of hot on the poster in the elevator, didn’t you, Stone?”

Not.
Nicky’s eyes danced, mine flattened to a glare.

“
I thought nothin’ of the sort.” I sniffed.

Before I could
defend my honor
any more, we were swarmed by groupies all looking to get my autograph.
Mine?
This is some wild stuff.
I happily obliged as I’d seen Nicky and Leelee do, even when one buxom broad all but bared her tits for me to John Hancock.

As soon as the lusty ladies departed, Fawn sidled up to one side of me, Missy on the other. I didn
’t like the two of them in cahoots together.

Fawn
slapped my ass hard enough to earn a feral grin of approval from Missy. “Next time, lose the leathers and just wear chaps.”

The crew busted out laughing
, and I backed into a corner so no one else could tap my shit. We continued to guzzle beer, the Hens kept peck-peck-pecking, and the Widows held their own in wit and one-liners.

The back of my neck
prickled as I stood at the high top table mashed between Nicky and Leelee. Glancing aside, I saw two babes staring at me. They each crooked a come-hither finger at me.

“
Uh, I think I have to go talk to some people,” I whispered to Nicky.