Until We Burn (2 page)

I duck in the
back of my favorite restaurant, Providence, and make my way to my regular
table.  It’s in the back, in the shadows, and that’s just the way I like
it. 

I’m different
from most of the people I know who eat here. Most celebrities like to make an
entrance through the front because they enjoy how the fans rush up to them,
surrounding them with pleas for autographs or pictures.

Not me.

That’s never
been me. 

I’ve barely
slid into my booth before a waitress slinks over to me, her bright green eyes
lighting up as she sees me. 

“Dominic,” she
exclaims, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and squeezing.  I grin up at
her, genuinely pleased to see her.  Since she’s one of the only women who
have ever turned me down, I shouldn’t be so partial to her. 

But that’s not
the case.  I actually like her.   

“Hey
Alex.” 

She glances
around me.  “Where’s Miss Ashby?  Should I watch for her?”

I shake my
head, remembering how I spent most of the night tied up in silk cords and
getting my ass beat by her.  She’d slipped out of my house before nine
a.m. 

“Nope. 
She’s at work today.  I’m here on my own.”

“Just the way
I like it,” Alex announces smirking.  She sits across the table from me,
comfortable now that she knows Amy isn’t coming.  “How are things?  I
haven’t seen you in a couple of weeks.”

I shrug. 
“I’ve been busy.  Just wrapped production, and I have a couple of weeks
before the next film starts.  I’m thinking about going to my brother’s for
a weekend or so.  It’d be nice to go home for a few days.”

Alex shakes
her head.  “You know that your family has been blessed by the Gods,
right?  I mean, you’re gorgeous, sexy as hell and you’ve got the freaking
world on a string, Dominic.  Your brothers are in the most famous band in
the world and so you’ve got a built-in soundtrack to your life if you want it.”

I have to
laugh at that.  “Oh really?  You think that the Devil’s Own will just
stop what they’re doing and write some songs for me?  Not hardly.  I
love my brothers, but Sin and Duncan aren’t going to interrupt a tour schedule
just for me.  But you’re right. I’ve been blessed and I need to remember
that.” 

I pick up my
menu, even though I know exactly what it says.  As I peruse the food
offering, Alex stares at me, her brow furrowed. 

“What’s going on
with you, dude?  You don’t seem like yourself.  You seem…off.”

I laugh again.
“I
am
off.  I’ve been off for a long time, but nothing’s
wrong.  I’m just feeling a bit tired.  I think going home to Chicago
will be good for me. It’ll recharge my batteries, so to speak.”

Alex continues
to examine me, her head cocked.  “Okay. If you say so.  But if you
want anyone to talk to someone who won’t just tell you what you want to hear,
you know you can talk to me.  I’m not concerned with sleeping with you, so
I’ll always be honest with you.”

“You’ve got
that right,” I tell her wryly. “You’ve never been concerned with sleeping with
me.”

She taps her
wedding ring.  “Sorry, dude.  You’re hot and all, but I’m one of the
few out there who believes that marriage is sacred.  Well, there are only
a few here in LA. I’m sure that there are plenty more like me out in the real
world.  But we Angelinos are a different breed.”

“True story,”
I agree.  “I’ll have the fish tacos.” I fold up the menu and hand it to
her.  “Thanks, Alex.”

And by
thanks
, I mean for offering to listen to me.  I do appreciate
it.  She’s one of the few decent people I’ve met out here. 

“Sure thing.”

She trots off
to the kitchen and I’m left alone once again. 

But only for a
few minutes. 

The hostess, a
bleached blonde Barbie-type makes her way over to me a short time later, trying
to act casual but I feel sure that she’d bee-lined her way to me as soon as she
saw that I was here.   She always does.

“Dominic,” she
purrs, snaking her skinny arm around my shoulders.  Unlike when Alex did
it, I’m not enjoying this girl’s touch.  I shrug out of her grasp. 

“Hi,” I answer
coolly. 

I’m not trying
to be rude, but she’s always annoyed me. She’s an opportunist.  She’s
trying to make it in the acting world and I know she’d probably take down her
own grandmother to get a leg up.   Given how poor her acting skills
are when she pretends to be casual around me, I don’t think she should quit her
day job. 

“So, are you
alone?” she asks bluntly, her lips almost grazing my ear.  “Because I’ve
got something important to discuss with you.”

I arch an
eyebrow.  “Oh, really?  And that is?”

She whispers
into my ear.  “I’m not supposed to discuss this kind of thing here, but I
have a question about the industry.”

And by
industry
,
she of course means the acting world.

I sigh.

“Okay, shoot,”
I tell her.

“How can I go
about getting your agent?”  She asks seriously, her eyes burning into mine
with intensity.

“Tally?” I ask
in surprise.  “He’s got a waiting list ten miles long.  He was a
friend of my father’s and that’s the only reason why he took me on a few years
back.”

She stares at
me dubiously. “So there’s no way whatsoever that I could get you to put a good
word in for me?”

There’s a
light in her eyes now, a particular sexual light that I’ve seen in a thousand
women’s eyes.  I stare back, unfazed.

“Probably
not.”

“Nothing I can
do?” she asks again, her hands trailing from my shoulders down my back and
wrapping around to my lap, lightly tracing my crotch.  “Can I try?”

I roll my
eyes.  “Go for it.”

The hostess
glances around, sees that no one is near, and immediately drops to her knees
and crawls under the table.  I’m startled for a mere second, then as her
deft hands unfasten my pants and stroke at me, I allow all cognitive thought to
leave my mind.  When her mouth replaces her hands, logical thought
disappears and I close my eyes.

Her hands are
cold as she cups my balls, but her lips are warm. 

Her breath is
hot. 

And her tongue
teases the tip of my dick. 

I fight back
the urge to moan.  She’s hidden by the tablecloth, so it would look odd if
anyone happened to notice me moaning to myself in the middle of a
restaurant. 

Christ. 
I despise women like this, but at the same time, I can’t dismiss their
merit.  It’s nice to get blown in the middle of the day, in the middle of
Providence.

Sometimes, it
pays to be Dominic Kinkaide.

“Hey, Melanie
hasn’t bothered you yet, has she?” Alex demands, appearing out of
nowhere.  My eyes snap open and I fight to act normal, which is hard since
a very key part of me is buried in Melanie’s throat at this very minute.

Melanie
tightens her grasp on my balls, as she’s perfectly able to hear every word that
Alex says.

“Yeah. 
Stupid chick keeps wanting to assault you… get you to help her out.  Just
ignore her, Dominic. She’s ridiculous.  I have better acting skills than
she does. And I’m not an actor.”

Melanie’s
claws grip me tighter and I grimace. 

“No, I haven’t
seen her,” I lie to Alex, praying that Alex doesn’t decide to sit down and chat
again. 

“Good,” she
says in satisfaction. “I told her to leave you alone.  I guess she
listened to me for once.  If she bothers you, let me know.”

“She’s not a
bother,” I assure Alex.  Because she’s not…right now.  Alex nods.

“Your food
will be up in a second,” she tells me before walking away. 

After she
leaves, Melanie finishes sucking me off in record time and climbs back out from
under the table, wiping her mouth daintily. 

“That chick is
a bitch,” Melanie growls to me.  “She has no idea what kind of talent I
have.  But you do.  Now.  Can you please put in a word with
Tally for me?”

She stares at
me, her hard eyes turning soft for just a brief minute, long enough to give me
a glimpse into her life.  She’s vulnerable and insecure beneath her hard
surface.  Just another reason why she shouldn’t be in my world. 

Girls like her
get eaten up and spit out. 

“Sure,” I tell
her.  “I’ll say something to him.”

Lie.

But Melanie
takes me at my word and bends to squeeze my shoulders once again.  She
walks away and I watch her hips swish as she goes. 

She’s barely
out of my sight when Alex returns with my lunch, switching one service
(Melanie’s blow job) for another: my lunch.

It’s how my
life works. 

Everything is
easy.  Everyone strives to please me.  Everything is just so fucking
smooth.
 Now.
  It wasn’t always that way, of course, but the
past is the past.  I don’t dwell on it.  In fact, I do everything I
can to forget it. 

For a second,
I wrap my fingers around the necklace in my pocket, the one thing I allow
myself to have from my previous life.  It serves as a constant reminder
for me. 

To never trust
anyone again. 

I release the pendant
and grip my fork instead, chewing each bite of food efficiently and quickly,
returning to the Dominic Kinkaide that the world knows and loves.

Mysterious,
detached, sexy. 

Those are
words that have often been used to describe me.  But the one word that
suits me most of all has never been uttered, never even been hinted at… because
no one knows.

That word is
broken
.

“No fucking
way, “I mutter to Tally.  “I’m not going to London.  I only have a
month until the new production begins.  I want to relax.”

“Well, you can
relax in London while they take your pictures for the promos.  I also set
up a day of shooting for a Tag Heuer commercial while you’re there.  You
love their watches.”

“I don’t even
wear a watch,” I grumble into the phone, pouring a cup of coffee with one hand
as I stand completely nude in the middle of my kitchen.

“You will for
a million dollars,” Tally says cheerfully.  “It’s an easy day’s work for
you.  Their VP of marketing is a good friend of mine and I owed him a
favor.  Just do this for me, please.”

“Fine. 
But you know I hate endorsing shit,” I growl.  “Unless Porsche needs a
spokesman, no more endorsements.  I mean it.”

“Deal,” Tally
replies.  “Your plane will be wheels up tonight at seven pm.  Amy
can’t make the flight with you, but she’ll meet you there.  They’re going
to work her into the promos at the same time so they can wrap it all up in two
days.”

I glance at
the clock.  Eleven am.  I’ve got to be on a flight in eight
hours.  Sighing, I gulp at my coffee.

“So much for a
vacation,” I sigh again in resignation. 

I can
practically hear my manager smile through the phone.  “Your brothers have
a show in Amsterdam.  I’m going to arrange for you to swing through there
on your way home.  You might not catch the show, but you can visit your
brothers for a day or two. I know you haven’t seen them in a while.”

True
story.  Because of their world tour, I haven’t seen them in months. 
I had actually been looking forward to their show in Chicago next month just so
I can have the chance to see them.  We’ve always been close, but our
hectic schedules prevent us from getting together as much as we’d like.

“Good,” I
answer.  “I’ll be on the plane at seven.  Are you coming?”

“Yep.  I
can’t trust you to stay out of trouble over there.”

He laughs and
I’m not sure if he’s kidding or not. 

“Oh, by the
way,” he adds.  “I sent you a gift.  It should be there any
minute.  I figured your house needs cleaned before you leave.”

“I’ve got a
housekeeper,” I remind him. 

“Not like
this, you don’t,” he answer cryptically, and then hangs up.

I barely have
time to finish my cup of coffee before my doorbell rings. 

I pad over the
marble floors to answer it, only bothering to pull on a pair of pants before I
do. 

I’m still
shirtless when I open the door and find two gorgeous college-aged girls
standing in front of me.  Blonde, pert, big tits.

Just the way I
like them.

I grin, a slow
grin that the public knows and loves.

Both girls
grin back.

“And you are?”
I lift my eyebrow.  They both giggle. 

“We’re from
Naked Maids,” one of them tells me.  “We’re here to clean your
house….naked.”

I can’t help
but grin again at the mere thought.  Tally.  Leave it to him to find
something like this.  He always looks out for me…on every level.

“Good,” I tell
them, ushering them in.  “The only problem is… my house is already
clean.  Can we find something else for you to do?”

They look at
each other slyly as I lead them through the house to my living room. 

“We’re not supposed
to do anything else,” the taller one says.  “But you’re Dominic
Kinkaide.  We’ll break the rules for you.”

My grin
widens. 

“That’s
perfect
,“
I tell them.  “Because I’m a rule
breaker.  I have a great idea.  Brilliant, really.  I’d like for
you to clean her,” and I point at the other girl.  “With your tongue.”

They aren’t
even fazed.  She nods with a mischievous look in her eye and they move to
the center of the room and drop onto the plush rug. 

I situate
myself on a sofa, my legs sprawled out as I watch.

God, I love to
watch. 

Hands, lips,
tongues and fingers move together, rubbing, stroking,
sucking
. 
My dick hardens and I pull it out, stroking it with my fingers.

The girls look
up. 

“Want some
help?” the shorter one asks, her lips glistening. 

I shake my
head.  “No.  I want to watch you.  Keep going.”

They turn back
to each other, burying their tongues in each other’s mouth as their hands move
everywhere.  Their fingers slip in, out, wet.  They moan softly as
they suckle each other, constantly glancing over their shoulders to see if I
like the show.

I do.

I finish up
within a few minutes and lay sated on my couch as they finish each other off.

They look up
at me as I get to my feet. 

“Anything else
you want us to do?” one of them purrs. 

I shake my
head.

“Maybe clean
up the kitchen?”

Their faces
are astonished as I walk away and don’t look back, headed for my shower. I
guess they don’t get that request very often. 

As I let the
water wash over my face and stream down my body, I think about my life. 
It’s filled with women, in and out of my days and nights like clouds passing in
the sky.  None of them mean anything to me.  None of them will ever
mean anything to me.
 Nothing does.
 

I take a very
long shower, breathing in the steam, before I finally step out and get
dressed.  When I make my way back downstairs, the nude maids are
gone.  The kitchen has been cleared of my coffee cup, the coffee maker
wiped clean. So they actually knew how to clean, after all. I’m mildly surprised.

I grab a book
and head out to the pool, soaking in the sun while I read.  I should enjoy
it while I can.  London is notoriously gray and rainy. 

The afternoon
passes quickly and before I know it, I only have an hour before I need to depart
for the airport.  I put the book away and pack a bag. 

I’m just
opening the door to my Porsche when a large black car glides to a stop in front
of me. 

A curvy blonde
bombshell in a chauffeur’s hat steps out of the driver’s seat, dressed in short
boy shorts, high heels and thick stripper’s makeup.

“Your car,
sir,” she tells me, her eyes sweeping me up and down. 

I’m surprised
for a minute, but then I grin. 

Tally. 

“I suppose you
drive topless?” I ask wryly as I put my bag in the open trunk.  She smiles
flirtatiously. 

“No.  But
Abbi, your flight attendant, can.  If you want.”

I glance over
her shoulder to find another girl, a slender brunette in a skimpy flight
attendant uniform, already seated in the back of the limo, pouring a glass of
champagne.  She holds out the drink to me with a smile. 

“Abbi?” I ask,
my fingers brushing hers as I take the glass.  She nods, then allows her
fingers to rest at the top of my thigh when I settle into the seat next to
her. 

“I’ll take
good care of you during your flight,” she assures me softly. 

It’s good to
be Dominic Kinkaide.