Movie Merger (Bad Boys Billionaire Bachelors Club #2) (2 page)

“Miss Rowland, you’re late,” Marshall said, snapping me back to reality.

“I apologize, Mr. Kent. That’s not something that usually happens to me, but I didn’t plan for an interstate chase today.”

“Call me Marshall. I’m a busy man and don’t like tardiness. Thankfully I was able to give myself a bit of a distraction while I waited for you,” Marshall said.

“I…uh…ah,” I mumbled, not knowing how to respond. “I’m sorry and it won’t happen again.”

“It better not. Tardiness is a lack of respect and I can’t have that, can I, Miss Rowland?” Marshall asked, arching his eyebrows. Even that was sexy. His voice was condescending and bossy, something that would normally irk me greatly, but when he did it, the sound was somehow a turn-on. Plus, I could still feel the intense sexual heat radiating from Marshall. I could not stop staring at his delicious smooth muscles all over his body, and his enormous cock. It was practically staring at me. Why wasn’t I ever turned on as much by my ex? I licked my lips nervously. If I keep looking, I was going to lose this deal. Boy, I had to get focused and do it quickly.

“Good, now come over here, Miss Rowland.”

“Becca please.” I realized that my voice was very low, almost demure as I talked to him.

“Submissive tone…interesting. I wouldn’t think attorneys would have that, or friends of Sophia and Mandi either.”

I walked over to Marshall, fully aware that he was still naked. I was mesmerized when I looked into his beautiful blue eyes, but I was really intrigued when I looked at his gigantic cock. Maybe it was in an effort to be eccentric or to get the upper hand, but I couldn’t help but be amused when Marshall slid on a crisp white linen shirt, but left his pants off.

Without realizing I did it, I stuck out my tongue and licked my lips again, lingering longer at the corners of my lips while I kept staring at his cock. It was like a sculpture at a museum—beautiful and perfect. He was a marble statue come alive. I’ve never seen a more perfect male body.

“Hungry?”

I would have shouted out yes to his bold question if I could talk. What I wanted to do more than anything at that moment was get down on my knees and put that cock into my mouth and see what it felt like as I moved my mouth up and down it, making Marshall Kent groan from the pleasure of my attention. “Yes, I’m hungry,” I finally said, snapping myself out of the highly arousing daydream I’d just lived out.

“Excellent, me too. Let’s go get a bite to eat. I just have to get dressed first.” He slowly buttoned up his shirt, making me groan inwardly. Why couldn’t he keep his shirt open? Better yet, why couldn’t he keep his shirt off?

“Sounds great.” I decided that I’d already been embarrassed enough so there was no need to turn away as Marshall put on his boxers and gray slacks, followed by a matching sports jacket.

A minute later Marshall reached my arm, telling me to come. “We can conduct your interview over lunch. Not in here.”

“Why not?” I asked.
Why did you ask that? If you stay in this room you know what you’ll want and there’ll be no stopping you if he wants it too.

“Because this is my personal space while I’m in California. For this interview I think that it’s best for me to be in a place that’s a bit less intimate.”

“I understand,” I said. I should have been relieved, but that wasn’t the case. My imagination was on overdrive.

Marshall nodded, looking me over from top to bottom. It was so obvious and bold, not that I should be shocked by that. I had always tried dressing flattering; finding clothes that were professional yet showed off my physique that I worked so hard to keep. One look from those intense blue eyes told me that I’d made a great choice when I chose the red lizard skinned pumps, gray pencil skirt, red cami, and short matching jacket that morning.
I wish he’d stop looking at me that way. I’m getting so hot and bothered that I am nearly ready to star in a porno of my own with him as the co-star.

As an afterthought, Marshall said, “If you understand what I want to begin with, Miss Rowland, I believe you’ll find yourself quite satisfied.”

“I think I’ll be able to figure it out,” I said boldly, figuring that I had to up my innuendos and business savvy to keep up with this guy.

We went into Marshall’s car, a black Bentley GT Coupe, and made our way across the street from the studio to a restaurant that looked similar to a steak house. I couldn’t believe how amazing the soft leather felt on the back of my legs as I sat down into the seat.

Once at the restaurant, it was clear that everyone at the restaurant recognized Marshall and was willing to bend over backwards to serve him. It started with the maître de and ended with the waitress who didn’t bother to hide the lust in her eyes as she asked what Marshall wanted. I smiled as I thought that it was very easy to see what she wanted.

Watching the people walk by Marshall was almost comical to me at first, just before we started to talk business. It was clear everyone wanted something from him and you could see it in their eyes. Men and women both seemed enamored with him sexually and as a means in using the Marshall Kent avenue to become the next big thing on the silver screen. He was hot and in demand…not only because of his intense sexual presence, but because of the power he radiated from being one of the most powerful men in front of the screen and behind.

As far as I was concerned, even if I didn’t see him in his full-blown glory, giving one of the sexiest actresses an earth-shattering orgasm, I would be intoxicated by his beautiful face, his blue eyes, and full sensual lips itself. This man was sex on legs, and if I’m not careful, I would not be able to stay professional with him, which I could not afford, as a new attorney.

Chapter 3

I’ve always been a master interviewer, considering it one of my best skills ever since I had landed my first job when I was sixteen. I was confident, ready to share my experiences, and give the pitch of a lifetime as to why Marshall Kent should do business with Rowland Law Practice. I looked at him and he was staring back at me, relaxed and content, with those intense blue eyes looking like he was in the middle of some practical joke. What was going on? Finally after some intense scrutiny he talked. “So, why are you here?”

“I’m here to tell you more about the services that my firm offers. I’m sure you’ll gain confidence that we are best equipped to handle the services you require,” I said, taking my pause at just the right moment. Marshall stared at me, not responding immediately. I began to get uncomfortable as I waited for a reply…anything to show that I hadn’t lost him on the first question.

Marshall cocked his head to one side. “What kind of services, Ms. Rowland?”

“Whatever services you may need,” I replied. I instantly blushed, realizing the innuendo that came with that reply and added, “Legal services that is. You see, Mr. Kent, my father has many years of legal expertise in contract laws, negotiations, and tax structure, plus an associate who is highly skilled in entertainment law. We have the ability to fit all your needs…legal needs.”

I paused, waiting for a reply like a normal person would. There was no reply again. Instead Mr. Kent reached over to grab his glass of iced tea, swirling it around incessantly as if to mix it up, and then taking a drink.
Okay fine, he’s thirsty.
With a wetted whistle there were still no words that came from his utterly sexy plump lips. He kept staring at me the entire time and honestly, it began to unnerve me on more levels than I wanted to show. If I could have walked away from him at that moment or excused myself I would have.

Feelings of self-consciousness flooded me as I tried to assess what was going on. Part of me wanted to please him greatly and the other part of me wanted to wipe that smarmy look off his face. What was wrong with me? I’m a pretty smart, intelligent woman and I’m certainly used to having men look at me a certain way, but nothing in my frame of reference could have prepared me for the intensity of this brief moment. I didn’t get it.

As we sat there in silence my mind drifted off into a mini movie of what I’d seen earlier. I could see Marshall having sex with that woman and I knew it was the kind of sex I wished I could have at that moment. If Brandon would have been able to deliver like that it would have been amazing.
And even more heart breaking when he left you. You can’t just replace sex like that, can you?
Sometimes I really despised that argumentative side of my inner attorney.

Marshall licked his lips softly, making me wonder if he had read my mind just before. I sure hoped that wasn’t the case. I seemed to be like an open book with this guy and he somehow had an eerie way of tapping into what I was feeling. In an instant I knew that my form of small talk to break the silence would be utterly ineffective so I just chose to stare back at him for a bit. I felt like a kid in a staring contest and if this was like when I was a kid I’d likely lose. Marshall put his right hand up to his lips, rubbing his knuckle across that soft and sensual looking lower lip. I wanted to bite it so badly and in an instant I was backed into the emotion of horniness. I could safely say that I’d never experienced so many emotions with one guy in such a short amount of time.

Our food came and there was still silence. No word had been exchanged between us and the waitress who clearly desired Marshall was even silent, like she understood that’s what he wanted. It was so bizarre. I realized that I hadn’t even ordered the steak and veggies, but that’s what I’d gotten. The nerve…not asking me what I wanted or choosing my own food. Was he some sort of control freak? It wouldn’t have mattered anyway I determined. I was not hungry in the least. It was all too distracting for me to think about having an appetite. As for Marshall, that was a different case.

I watched Marshall begin to cut through his rare stake and devour big pieces of it like he was a carnivore eating in the wild. It barely took him a minute to eat and he still didn’t talk. I was beginning to think he had been starving and that’s why he’d stopped talking. Some people didn’t function well at all when they were hungry. I certainly knew he’d worked up a plenty big appetite that morning.

After the steak was devoured, the glass of red wine was drunk down in about three swallows. Did he even enjoy the taste of it? I had no idea. I knew it was an expensive bottle despite not being overly knowledgeable in wine.

I just kept staring at Marshall, completely ticked off by his mannerisms, and starting to think he was a real asshole. Just because you were rich and sexy didn’t mean you could act the way he was. It was uncivilized, almost barbaric. I could sense my eyes darkening as I stared at him, anger rising within me.
Keep your cool. You can beat him at his own game.

Marshall hadn’t really taken his eyes off me and he finally asked, “Is there something wrong with the steak?”

Was he kidding me? Something wrong with the steak? The only thing wrong with me was the whole bogus interview.

“My steak is fine.”

“Then why haven’t you eaten anything?” he continued.

“This is an interview so I’m waiting for you to ask me questions. It wouldn’t do very well for me to shove a piece of steak in my mouth and then have you ask me a question, would it?”

“Oh, I see. I really only had that one question.” Marshall shrugged his shoulders like our conversation was normal. It was far from normal in any sense of the word.

“What about what I’ve done previously and what I’m capable of…”

Marshall cut me off. “I can see those things from your resume and your resume speaks quite well for you. Why waste my time asking what I’ve already read? I just need to know why.”

“So now you know,” I said, starting to lose my cool. I was irked beyond anything I would have thought possible at the start of my day, including the interstate chase that had made me late.

“Now I know,” Marshall agreed, void of all expression or emotion in his tone.

“Do you have anything else you’d like to know about me?” I asked, hoping to get this interview back on track.

Marshall paused briefly, assessing if he did indeed have anything else to ask me and eventually crinkled his eyes. “Yes I do have one more question.” I nodded, showing that I was listening. “I’d like to know if you work weekends and evenings.”

“Yes I do. It’s a priority to get the job done, of course, and many times that involves working outside the usual office hours.”

“Don’t you have anything other than work to keep those nights and weekends occupied?” he asked.

Rude and inappropriate were the first two words that came to my mind. It shouldn’t have been a surprise though because this entire interview had been off the charts crazy. “I don’t. I am very devoted to my career at this moment.”

“Good. I expected as much, but wanted to make sure. It would certainly put a kink in my plans if you didn’t have the same kind of work ethic as me. That’s good information to know should I choose to bring you on.”

“That won’t be a problem, Mr. Kent.”

He smiled at me widely. We’re talking that megawatt smile that can take a person’s breath away when least expected. It was a transformation from the silent quirky man I’d just witnessed and most welcome. He actually looked civilized and sweet. “That’s good to hear, Ms. Rowland.”

Then, as fast as it had showed up, the megawatt smile disappeared and I was looking at the brooding and contemplative man again.
He has more mood swings than any girl I’ve ever met
, I thought. That’s really saying something considering I had thirty sorority sisters that I lived with in college.

The server came over with a plate of apple pie and that was the end of the brief, yet awkward exchange between Marshall and me. He dug into that pie and devoured it like he was starving, ignoring me completely. Why was he acting so…so…dismissive? That was the word I was looking for.

I apparently was dismissed because not another word was muttered as Marshall continued to eat plate after plate of food. He had desserts, fruit, nuts, and wine. He didn’t pay any attention to me the entire time. I might as well have been a bum on the street corner at that moment. I have had enough.