“Yeah, I think there’s some in my bag in the other suite. I’ve got to go get my clothes from over there anyway, so I’ll go grab it.”
As Dylan passed by me, he smacked my ass, and then he reached for the door that separated our two suites. Pulling it open, he said, “Would’ve stung so good if you’d just taken that damn towel off,” and as he went to take a step into his room, he froze. Then I heard him ask, “Who are you?” before the all-too-familiar sound of a camera capturing a shot sounded.
My head jerked up then, panic seizing my chest as the man standing in the middle of Dylan’s room in a bellhop uniform looked me dead in the eye, his finger moving so fast on the camera button that I barely had time to blink.
“Dude, if you got it, let’s go,” someone from somewhere in Dylan’s room said, and when that registered in my brain, I was moving.
It all happened so fast then, the paparazzi running for the door, Dylan chasing after him, me grasping at Dylan to pull him back inside. He ripped out of my hold with a growl and took off toward the front of his suite to hunt the fuckers down, but before he managed to hit the hallway, I grabbed him from behind, yanking him back inside.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he yelled, struggling against me. “They got pictures, Ace.”
“And if you go out there now, you’ll just make it worse.”
“Not if I smash his goddamn camera—”
“What, naked?” I said, and Dylan’s eyes dropped down to see that the towel he’d been wearing had come off somewhere along the way.
“Fuck,” he said, and then he broke out of my arms and punched the door shut. “Fuck!”
As the immediate threat of someone being in the room passed, I slowly backed away, panting like I’d just run a marathon.
Shit. Oh God, fucking
shit.
As the reality of what had just happened pierced my consciousness, I heard myself say, “Get back in my room,” and then louder when he didn’t immediately follow, “Get the
fuck
back in my room.”
Racing across the suite to the hotel phone, I dialed the code for my direct manager. “There’s been a security breach in the presidential and adjoining suites on the forty-fifth floor,” I said when he picked up. “Alert security that a man, about five foot nine, with black hair and wearing one of your bellhop uniforms, broke into room four fifty-two and took photos. He looked like one of the paparazzi I’ve seen following me in L.A.”
The pounding in my head was so loud I could barely hear his assurances that they were on it ASAP, and then he’d be right up, and it wasn’t until Dylan took the phone out of my hand that I realized how badly I was shaking.
Had that really just happened?
My knees threatened to give way, and Dylan sat me down in the desk chair and then came back a few seconds later with my fresh clothes. His voice was low with fear as he clearly struggled with being the one who needed to stay calm as my anxiety rose.
“We need to get you dressed,” he said, putting my legs through a pair of boxer briefs and jeans and then pushing them up my thighs.
“They saw us…” My eyes drifted down Dylan’s naked torso. “They have pictures of you…of me…”
“Who do I need to call? The police? Roger? What’s her name…Martina?”
My eyes shuttered closed as I leaned forward, put my elbows on my knees, and let my head drop. “Fuck,” I said softly, and it was in that moment, in that dead silence, that I knew nothing in my life would be that quiet again. The lid that sealed shut my private life had exploded open like a confetti cannon, and once it was loose, there was no way to find every piece and stuff it back in again.
No, within minutes those pictures would be everywhere. On every news, social media, and entertainment website. They’d be splashed on the cover of every magazine, talked about over water coolers tomorrow morning. Life as I’d always known it—which was to say, deep in the proverbial closet—was over. And Dylan…
My vision blurred as my eyes found his, and I knew the distress I found there had to match my own.
“I’m sorry,” I said, and then dropped my head into my hands again. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
“You don’t have to be sorry to me.”
“I am. Because you have no
clue
what this is about to start. What am I gonna do?”
Dylan bit down on his lip and then said, “The way I see it, you’ve got two choices. You can hide, deny everything. Even with pictures, there’s got to be some way your people can spin it.”
“And what’s behind door number two?”
Dylan lifted my chin and his eyes met mine. “You can say fuck it and walk out of here with your middle fingers held high.”
I couldn’t just sit there anymore, there had to be something, anything…
Pushing off the chair, I stood and pulled the pants up over my hips before walking over to the windows. As I looked out over the Strip, still quiet and unassuming this early in the day, I wondered where I would go from here. Where
we
would go from here…
LOCKED
Coming August 2016
Thank you for reading ACED. We hope you enjoyed our sexy guys!
* Reviews are vital to authors. All reviews, even just a couple of quick sentences, can help a reader decide whether to pick up our books. If you enjoyed this book, please consider leaving a review on the site you purchased from.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
It was like a bolt of lightning struck us one night a few months ago when we were Skyping and trying to decide what project we wanted to collaborate on next. We tossed around several ideas, but the more we talked, the more we kept coming back to our current projects: the Sunset Cove Series & the L.A. Liaisons Series. And after Ace threatened to take over
Hooker,
and many of you asked for more of him, we thought…
What if?
Let us just tell you now—keeping this book a secret for so long was not an easy feat. You’re amazing readers, and we get way too excited to tell you about the projects we’re working on, so thank you for trusting us and being patient.
But really, you know we just love to torture you guys, right? ~wink~
We would like to thank Jay Aheer at Simply Defined Art for our gorgeous cover and teasers. You continually surprise us with your talent and your ability to create magic from the few unintelligible sentences we give you. You’re a true artist and an awesome lady to boot!
To Ellie over at Love N. Books - what can we say other than THANK YOU for this kickass cover photo of Ashley Gibson. We had to sit on the cover for months (TORTURE), but Ella is super grateful for that because it gave her a clear image of Dylan as she brought him to life. Keeping him under wraps had nothing at all to do with the fact that we wanted to keep his hotness to ourselves. Really.
A huge thank you to Jenn Watson at Social Butterfly PR. We are so thrilled to be working with you and so thankful you have taken us under your wing as we go forth and send ACED out into the world. You have made this process stress-free and enjoyable, and that is a mighty big accomplishment in this adrenaline-filled industry we work in.
Thank you to Arran, our editor. We have a feeling this book was the most fun you’ve ever had editing before. We’d like to say: YOU’RE WELCOME. Your Frank Zappa record is coming.
And to all of the bloggers and all of our readers who took a chance on ACED: Thank you for your support and for being so vocal in your love for Ace and Dylan. Without that, we might not have ever played around with this idea, which turned out to be one of the most rewarding and fun writing experiences we’ve ever had.
Xx Ella & Brooke
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
If you’d like to get to know Ella and Brooke better, you can find them getting up to all kinds of shenanigans at:
About Brooke
You could say Brooke Blaine was a book-a-holic from the time she knew how to read; she used to tell her mother that curling up with one at 4 a.m. before elementary school was her ‘quiet time.’ Not much has changed except for the espresso I.V. pump she now carries around and the size of her onesie pajamas.
Brooke is a
USA Today
Bestselling Author and enjoys writing sassy contemporary romance, whether in the form of comedy, suspense, or erotica. The latter has scarred her conservative Southern family for life, bless their hearts.
If you’d like to get in touch with her, she’s easy to find - just keep an ear out for the Rick Astley ringtone that’s dominated her cell phone for years.
Brooke’s Links
https://www.facebook.com/BrookeBlaine.Writer
https://www.facebook.com/BrookeBlaineAuthor
https://twitter.com/BrookeBlaine1
https://instagram.com/brookeblaine1
About Ella
Ella Frank is the
USA Today
Bestselling author of the Temptation series, including Try, Take, and Trust and is the co-author of the fan-favorite contemporary romance, Sex Addict. Her Exquisite series has been praised as “scorching hot!” and “enticingly sexy!”
A life-long fan of the romance genre, Ella writes contemporary and erotic fiction and lives with her husband in Portland, OR. You can reach her on the web at
www.ellafrank.com
and on Facebook at
www.facebook.com/ella.frank.autho
r
Some of her favorite authors include Tiffany Reisz, Kresley Cole, Riley Hart, J.R. Ward, Erika Wilde, Gena Showalter, and Carly Philips.
Ella’s Links
https://www.facebook.com/ella.frank.31
https://www.facebook.com/ella.frank.author