Ashley Ladd American Beauty (EC) (pdf)

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their boss. "And him to seduce him? Doesn't this sound a little kinky to you?"
"Kinky s good." Marshall looked up from his email. "You may be cute
Kirstykins, even candy to a straight guy, but you won't even turn my Bradley's
head. Don't embarrass yourself trying."
Fury engulfed Kirsty. Fuming she stomped across the room. Squaring off in
front of him, she stuck out her hand. "I'll take the bet. Chicken?" Steel tones
challenged him, yet she wobbled as if on a precipice. What morass was she about
to dive into?
Marshall narrowed his eyes and stroked his mustache thoughtfully. Then he
scraped his chair back and took her hand. He squeezed so hard it was a wonder
her poor fingers didn't break. "You're on. May the best girl win." He sashayed to
the refrigerator, extracted two-dozen of their best roses, and sent her a piercing
gaze. "This is war. Anything goes, sweetie." He called the delivery boy and
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whispered into the phone, cupping his hand in front of his mouth so they
couldn't read his lips.
* * * * *
The doorbell peeled the National Anthem which he had begun to hum
without realizing it, as Brad stepped out of the shower. "Hold on!" he yelled,
knotting the towel around his waist. He slipped on water and banged his knee
against the wall. Swearing, he hopped on one foot as he clutched his aching
appendage.
"Yeah? What d'you want?" Brad wrenched the door open, ready to rip off the
unfortunate soul's head if they didn't have an excellent reason for disturbing
him. If he couldn t play ball because of this, he d be madder than a hornet.
A red haired, pimple-faced, lanky young man with ears too large for his
head, smiled shyly, and held out an eloquent box with a huge red bow to him.
"Bradley Miller?
When Brad narrowed his eyes and nodded his head, the kid thrust the box
against his chest. Roses from a special admirer."
"Who sent roses to Kirsty?" Jealousy tripped through him, making him
surlier. Could it be that scum Frank? Was this his way of apologizing for being a
total jerk? Or maybe the guy had been jealous of him?
Crimson crept up the boy's neck to his cheeks and he cleared his throat.
"They're - uh - not for Kirsten." He read the gold embossed card, breathing
heavily. "To Bradley with all my love. Marshall." The kid squinted at him
through his long, scraggly bangs "You Bradley?"
Brad had to bite back a humorless chuckle. Marshall was courting him? Was
he really surprised? He d been set up for this all along. Crowe and his cronies
must be laughing it up right about now. "Guilty."
"Sir?" The kid held the box out to him and a receipt to sign. "Please sign for
me."
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American Beauty
Brad scribbled his name and took the box. It wasn't the kid's fault he was
Marshall s messenger. Opening it, d�j� vu assailed him when he spotted two
dozen roses - American Beauties if he wasn't mistaken. A note topped the cards
that threatened, "Tonight, Dearest, I'll make you mine. Hadn t he used similar
words for one or more of his many girlfriends when he sent them roses? Was this
Marshall guy stealing his best lines?
The kid hung around, shuffling his feet, staring him boldly in the eye.
"What d'ya want? A tip?" He didn't have his wallet on him obviously. He'd
give him the tip of his life - don't become an undercover cop. With his almost
neon carrot top that was highly unlikely, however, so he settled for a scowl.
Emotions shifted over the boy's ruddy face. "Did you have a message to send
back to my boss?"
A million retorts popped into Brad s mind, but none he could say aloud to
anyone under thirty and this kid looked as if he had virgin ears. He wrinkled his
nose and shook his head. "I'll give it to him in person." Feeling bad, he said,
"Wait," and ran upstairs to get a couple of bucks out of his pants pocket to give
the kid. "Here you go," he mumbled. "Thanks."
"They match your complexion perfectly," the little wise acre threw behind
him as he loped down the path jauntily. He stuffed the wadded up greenbacks in
his torn jeans pocket and whistled as he climbed into a car held together
haphazardly.
Brad slammed the door wishing he'd given the smart aleck the first tip that
came to mind instead of cold cash. As soon as the freckle-faced messenger left, he
flung on the first wrap he found one of Kirsty s frilly robes hanging on the back
of the bathroom door and trudged outside. He buried the roses deep in the
garbage so his landlady wouldn t see them. He was supposed to give roses, not
receive them.
You re looking lovely this morning. His neighbor burst into heavy
laughter as he weeded his flower bed on hands and knees. He snipped a blade of
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Ashley Ladd
grass off with a pair of scissors, and then lay down on the grass to check the
height of the rest of his yard.
The only grass Brad cared about was the Astroturf on the Mills Pond
baseball fields. As long as they stayed properly maintained, he had no gripes
not in that arena at least. He paid a lawn service to do his grass. Life was too
short to waste when he could be at the ball fields.
Your grass is a quarter inch too high, you know. You need to maintain it
better.
Brad regarded the grass cross-eyed. Nightmares of military housing
regulations taunted him and he felt like spitting at the guy s feet. I m just
renting. I ll be sure to pass your message on to the landlady.
The man scrambled to his feet and started pruning his bushes, Don t let her
forget. We should have an association here to monitor these things. He pointed
at the cars and car parts in the next yard. An association wouldn t stand for that
eyesore de-escalating our property values.
Brad backed away, hoping the man s insanity wasn t catching. Last time he
checked, this was America and people could use their yards as they wanted
within reason. If he didn t have inside information, he wouldn t give a second
thought to that yard. He liked a nice looking neighborhood as much as the next
normal guy but he wasn t anal like this dude either.
Kirsty called and asked him what his favorite food and color was, sounding
very secretive. Then she made him promise to be there when she got home.
Visions of a sexy, diaphanous teddy tortured him as he showered, shaved,
and cleansed his face of all the hated make-up in preparation for her mysterious
arrival. Then he cleaned house and waited for his blonde sprite of a landlady to
show.
He must ve dozed off, for he awoke with a start when silky hair caressed his
cheek and a lace-covered breast grazed his arm. Wake up, Sleeping Beauty, a
very sultry, husky voice crooned. I brought home your favorite Prime Rib and
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American Beauty
chocolate covered strawberries. She perched on the couch beside him, leaning
over him, her creamy breasts almost falling out of a slinky, frilly creation he was
sure was illegal throughout the First World.
Had he thought of her as a sprite? Temptress was more like it. No, siren was
the apt description. Those dusky aureoles peaked out at him again and his blood
pressure shot sky high.
He swallowed hard, his pulse hammering and his breathing uneven. His
cock sprung to full attention. He knew he should move away, make a joke, or do [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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