Chapter 12

Kali

I can't believe how quickly Wade's mood changed. I knew his fuse was short, but it's shorter than short.

"And Kali was too good for you." He spits venomous words in Michael's face, standing nose to nose with him, drawing a crowd, which causes two bouncers to run over to us.

"I've got this," I reassure them, holding my hands up to stop them from man handling Wade. Then I wedge myself between him and Michael and grab Wade's jaw with both my hands.

"Look at me, Wade." His neck is red, the thick veins pounding uncontrollably. And he's so mad, I can practically feel the heat of his anger radiating off him like wildfire.

"Wade." I try again. "He's not worth it," I shout above the music, desperately trying not to make a scene, praying no one is secretly filming.

Wade lowers his angry glare down to me, his eyes softening instantly.

"Not here. Not now. Please don't do this." My voice pleads with him. The last thing he needs is more bad publicity. It's what the paparazzi love, what Michael would love too.

"For me, please don't. And do this for yourself," I beg.

Nostrils flaring, he looks like he might pounce at any second.

I look back over my shoulder. "For once in your life, do the right thing and fuck off, Michael."

He scoffs. "Your new boyfriend is a liability."

Scuffles from behind me tell me he got the memo, but before he leaves, I yell in his direction while holding eye contact with Wade. "He's a better man than you." I feel the change, a slight shift as Wade slowly comes back to me, as if the red haze is lifting. "And at least he can last all night."

Amused, Wade lifts his brows and I ask, "What did Joe tell you to do when you get angry on the ice?"

"Breathe."

"So, breathe. In, and then out." Resting my hand on his chest while leaving the other clasped around his jaw, we breathe in harmony together as his hands move to cover mine.

His pulse is beating so fast it feels like his entire body is vibrating.

If he felt mine, he'd feel it racing from the thrill of the spat with Michael. I'm also concerned that Wade has a very long way to go with therapy if he can flip that fast.

"Feel better?" I ask after a couple of minutes, although I know he does; I can see and feel it. Shoulders dropped, heart much slower now, he's calm.

The noise of the club comes back to me.

"Much better." His hand snakes around my waist and pulls me into his chest. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Not knowing where to put my hands, I awkwardly rest them on top of his shoulders. Because we're not together together. It was all for show, to piss Michael off.

And I sort of feel sad about that.

It was fun being Wade's fake girlfriend for a few short minutes.

I'm not his girlfriend, but you know, I could if I wanted to, but we can't because we're work associates, and Wade's nearly a decade younger than me, and, yeah, he's my client and all that.

Still would though.

Maybe.

Definitely.

I look over at the two bouncers who have multiplied to five. "Can you make sure no one comes near?" I ask one of them, making his gaze shift to Wade.

Wade lets go of me briefly and digs about in his pocket. Pulling out his wallet, he pulls out five hundred-dollar bills. "Do as the lady asks, please. Thank you." He places the notes into the palm of his hand, and he signals for the bouncers to turn their back on us, shielding us from fans and the crowd.

He slips his arms around me again.

"What a prick. I should have punched your ex," he mutters.

"He's not worth losing your position on the team over." Wade needs to stay out of any trouble if he wants to remain an Eagle, and it's my job to help him not lose sight of that.

"It would make me feel better." He studies the club, then tracks where Michael is.

"Short term, yes. Long term, no. Look at me." I clasp his jaw again, forcing him to focus on me and not my spineless ex. "Don't let what he did to me upset you. It's all in the past and you need to stay out of trouble." Liking touching him, I let my fingers edge along his jaw then rest them on top of his shoulders again. I don't know what's wrong with me, but having touched him once, I can't seem to stop.

"I fucking hate cheaters." He sounds like someone who has experienced it. "Turns them into lying, sneaky fuckers."

"It does, but hey, I'm okay." Every day since the divorce, I feel stronger. "I'm better than okay. I'm great and better off without him. I'm happy, Wade."

"You sure you're, okay?"

"Promise. He did me a favor by cheating on me. Michael has Darcy to manage, so he's living off of her." Knowing him the way I do, I know he won't appreciate Darcy taking time off to have the baby.

What a tosser.That's what my British model friend, Sophie, would call people she didn't like or found obnoxious. Which was quite a lot. Everyone was a tosser in her eyes.

"I ended up being the only model Michael managed, and he made a lot of money from my contracts."

"But you got rid of the leech."

"It freed me to fully immerse myself in my business. I love it." My new agency makes me shoot out of bed in the morning. I also love not traveling to a different city every week of the month. Or spend months away on the lead up to fashion week; London, Milan, Paris. I walked them all.

Wade steers his gaze back to Michael.

"Ignore him. Pretend, Wade." I encourage him to jump on board with our fake relationship status. "Give him something else to talk about."

Wade's strong arms tighten around my waist, and I lace mine around his neck in response.

"He's got a very punchable face."

"I agree." I should have punched him, then kicked him in the balls the day I caught him and Darcy together in our bed. Didn't though. I stayed as cool as a cucumber as I turned on my heels and announced that I wanted a divorce.

Wade moves in closer, our lips almost touching, pressing his athletic frame up against me, making me feel weak at the knees. My body melts from the heat of his, as goosebumps race over my skin, making every hair on my body stand to attention.

Need pulses between my thighs at the idea of him branding me as his grip tightens around my waist. I've modeled with some of the most beautiful men in the world, but nothing compares to Wade's strong, stacked body. He's solid, sturdy as an oak tree. Built like one too.

Having not been this close to a man in over a year, I can't deny how good it feels. How good he feels. His lips hovering close to mine are almost a temptation too far. My nipples harden, as a rush of arousal soaks the thin lace of my panties. It would be so easy to lean forward and claim his mouth as mine.

His sinful spicy scent invades me and all I want to do is lick him and have a taste.

But I can't, so I turn my attention back to keeping Wade out of trouble.

"Punching him gives him the advantage of filing charges against you. The last thing you need is more bad press," I say as we hold on to each other, not moving in time to the heavy beat of the music. Cupping my hand around the back of his neck, I give it a squeeze. "Okay?"

He nods in agreement as we move back and forth.

I feel a sense of relief at his mellowing mood.

After a few minutes of staring at each other—which doesn't make me feel awkward, not even in the slightest, but it makes me wonder if he feels the same way—he asks, "So, I can last all night?" His brows rise.

My cheeks fill with color. "Well, can you?" I ask cheekily.

Moving his mouth to my ear, his lips brush my skin. "Want to find out?"

"Stop messing with me." I lean out of our closeness and look away. He'd never be interested in a woman my age.

He is twenty-six. I wish I was twenty-six again, then maybe…

My hands edge down his shoulders and rest on his solid biceps.

"Not messing." He bites down on his lip and then licks it. "I could show you I can last all night."

If only he wasn't pretending to protect me from Michael.

He pulls me closer, and I gasp when I feel his long, thick cock pressed against my stomach.

He's hard.

As stone.

And he's big.

I want to see it.

"I'm too old for you." I hide my face in the crook of his neck to disguise my embarrassment.

"You're fucking beautiful. Thought that since the day I met you."

The butterflies in my stomach take on a life of their own, swirling like a tornado. He thinks I'm beautiful.

"I thought you hated me."

I suck in a breath as his mouth grazes the shell of my ear. "Might have been lying about that."

"You're too young for me." Michael was right.

"I'm twenty-six." His hot breath sends shivers down my spine. "You're thirty-four. Our birthdays are days apart. Eight years, that's all there is between us. Eight years."

"You've been looking me up, stalker boy?"

"Man." He growls again, making his chest rumble, and I quite like the thought of him making that same noise, you know, when he's in the throes of— He interrupts my train of sordid thoughts.

His lips move down the slope of my neck, and I tilt it to the side, desperate for him to kiss me, deliberately rubbing my breast against him. I want this. I want him. I curl my toes in my shoes, imagining him kissing and licking me in places I shouldn't be wanting him to, and I squeeze my thighs together, trying to curb the overwhelming need to come. His breath awakening all the filthy thoughts I've been having about him and have been trying to push aside.

"I may have happened to stumble upon a few articles about you. You're one of the top ten supermodels of all time. It wasn't difficult information to find." He pulls me closer to him, so close there isn't even a millimeter between us. "And I'm a man, not a boy. I fuck like a man, too." He presses his hips more firmly into mine and a gasp leaves my lips.

"Only human, Kali, and you are fucking hot in this little black dress." Squeezing my waist, he splays his hand at the base of my spine, like he did earlier.

There is so much chemistry between us, it's electric.

Oh dear, lord, what am I doing? I need to shut this down.

"I've been hired to raise your profile."

"I know. You're being paid to do a job, and that's why we can't." Flatter than usual, his voice sounds sad, although I'm grateful at least one of us has some self-control and awareness.

Phew.

I think if I had it my way, I might jump his bones right here on the dance floor.

"Doesn't stop me from wanting to kiss you though." He says, moving his lips closer again, and I silently beg him to do it. I wonder how he might taste, whether his mouth would be soft or if he'll dominate the moment. My body coils so tight at the thought, I almost explode… but then reality hits like a bucket of ice water.

I snap out of my fantasies, lean out of our closeness. "If anything was to happen between us, it would ruin our working relationship."

"I agree, Kali."

"Leon did say there was lots of sexual tension between us, though. Maybe we should just bang like he said we should." I try lightening the mood, injecting some humor, but keen to find out what his reply would be. The gentle buzz from the alcohol I've consumed combined with the thumping bassy music through the floor makes my body feel like it's humming with excitement. It's making me giddy and saying things I shouldn't. "Sorry. Forget I said that. Completely off the table."

"Never going to happen." Hearts beating in time with one another, he bites his bottom lip suggestively, then smiles. "Want another drink?" he asks.

"Yeah." I need to get away from him and put an end to this. Trying to pull myself out of his arms, he keeps them locked around my waist, preventing me from breaking contact.

"Just give me a minute." He presses himself firmly against me to make his point.

I make an O shape with my mouth. He's still hard.

"Say mundane things to me." He groans as if in pain.

"Did you know over one hundred people choke to death on pens every year?"

"W-what?" he splutters.

"Sloths can hold their breath longer than a whale, or maybe it's a shark, or was it a dolphin? Now I'm confusing myself. Australia is wider than the moon."

"No way?"

"That's true. Actual fact. You can check online if you want. However, don't believe everything you read online. It might be a lie."

He laughs at my stupidity.

I dust my fingers over his cheek. "You should laugh more. It suits you."

Shaking his head, he admits, "Hasn't been much to laugh about lately."

"Until you met me."

"Oh yeah, you're hilarious." He rolls his eyes dramatically. "Mrs. Send Your AHL Contract to Scare You."

"I always get my way. And it worked." I shrug, lifting my shoulders to my ears. I still feel pretty smug about that. "Look at us now. Anyone would think we are friends."

"Shall we make friendship bracelets?"

"That's a great idea. My niece loves making them. She'll make them for us."

"Can't wait. A black one for me, please."

I think I'm finally seeing a touch of the real Wade; one he's been hiding away for too long.

He's actually kind of fun once you crack the surface of his thick as ice exterior.

"You can't have a black friendship bracelet," I say in fake shock.

"Why not?"

"Because that's the color I want."

"We'll match then."

"Okay." I play along as we continue to stare at each other.

"I'm sorry I was a complete dick to you when we first met." His apology feels genuine.

"We have months of work to do. You could still be a dick at any point."

"You know me so well."

"I do." Catching him unawares, I leap out of his arms.

"Shit." He hisses, covering his crotch with his hands, looking around the crowded dancefloor.

I throw my head back, laughing as he readjusts himself and walks the short distance toward me like a cowboy.

"Will it not go down?" I question as we weave our way through the crowd and head to the bar.

"I last all night, remember?" he mutters as we walk, making my breath catch in my throat.

Oh God.

What did I start?

I need another drink.

Lots of them.