Bradley's Whistle (P.ornstars of Romance #2) (5 page)

He grabbed his phone from his back pocket and aimed it in my direction. I struck a pose, arms wide, big grin on my face, and when Bradley’s face morphed into one of panic, I followed his gaze over my shoulder. A huge black swan was approaching and his eyes almost glowed red with territorial anger.

“Oh, crap, nice swan.” I tried to scurry off the rock, and my foot slipped again, but I caught my footing. “Good swan. Swans are vegetarians, right?” I blabbed as I stepped to another rock, still too far to leap to safety. This rock was also slippery, and I easily lost my balance rushing. My foot went one way, my body the other. I was going down; I knew it, the swan knew it. I was bird meat. I landed heavily, my arm reaching out to try and catch my fall on a neighboring rock. I heard the snap more than felt it. It was only a few seconds later before the hurt filled my body with agonizing pain, though. While Bradley flapped his arms in an attempt to scare off the swan from hell, I staggered out of the freezing water, cradling my wrist.

“Holy shit!” gasped Bradley. “I told you they were nasty fuckers.” Once the swan had moved back out into deeper water, he turned away from the lake and smiled, his grin quickly turning to laughter when he took in my sopping wet appearance. “Please, let me take another photo,” he spluttered.

I pinned him with a glare that should have made him shiver in his Nikes; instead, it just made him laugh harder. I grimaced as I tried to move my hand.

“Fuck, did you hurt yourself?” All laughter stopped as he took three determined strides towards me. He reached out to touch my arm, and I pulled away.

“Don’t touch it,” I snapped.

“Let me see,” he brushed off my snippy attitude.

“No, it hurts.”

Bradley raised a brow. “Is this a good time to say, ‘I told you so’?”

“Yeah, while I’m freezing cold and in pain. Go ahead, mock me.”

Bradley’s eyes softened, and he shook his head. “I promise I won’t hurt you. I grew up with Decker and his two brothers. I’m used to broken limbs and stitches.” After only a moment’s hesitation, I allowed him to pull my injured hand away from my body as he carefully examined it with warm, gentle fingers. “Can you move it?”

I tried and let out a small yelp when pain speared through my hand and arm.

“Pussycat, I think you might have broken something,” he whispered.

The thought of a broken bone made me woozy. I’d never broken anything before. I was clumsy, so bruises and cuts were normal. I had even endured a concussion once, but broken limbs . . . I felt ill. The world in front of me began to spin, little black dots floated in my vision, and suddenly, Bradley and the nasty ass swan were gone as I fell into unconsciousness.

Bradley

“You could have killed her,” Casey said matter-of-factly.

“Don’t be so melodramatic,” I snapped back. “And I’m not at fault here. I told her the swans were shitheads, and she ignored me.”

The nurse smiled and Wiska started giggling hysterically . . . again. Well, she had warned them she’d had a previous adverse reaction to morphine, but they were determined to get some decent pain relief into her when they reset the broken bone.

“I can’t believe I was attacked by a swan. This must be new for you.” She giggled as the nurse diligently ignored my and Casey’s argument.

“Actually, it’s quite common; they are very territorial, especially if there are young around,” the nurse calmly replied. “Also, swans mate for life. If one dies, the other dies of a broken heart, so they are very territorial of their mates, too.”

“That is so romantic.” Wiska swayed as she swooned. “Wow, you have really pretty eyes,” she continued, staring at the male nurse who simply smiled.

I, on the other hand, scoffed, loudly. I hadn’t meant to. I didn’t even know what a fucking scoff was until that moment. When Casey and Lionel both gave me a ‘what the’ look, I might have even blushed.

“Hush, Bradley, yours are prettier,” Wiska chastised.

At least that removed Casey’s and Lionel’s gaze from me. They were now both staring at her—Lionel a little worried, Casey highly amused.

“What about me, poppet? Do I have pretty eyes?” Casey asked, batting his lashes.

“You know you do. You blink those gorgeous, not so innocent eyes at Lionel, and he literally bends over for you.” Wiska gave the nurse a pointed look. “I mean that. They’re gay.”

“Thank you, Wiska,” Lionel said, though there was no admonishment in his tone.

“She is properly stonkered,” I murmured.

“What the hell does stonkered mean?” Wiska demanded.

“Wasted, drunk, stoned,” I explained.

“I’m not drunk,” she said, waving her hand in the air. Obviously, she caught sight of something fascinating with her hand, because she waved it around in front of her face for a good minute after.

“Poppet, you are as baked as a pie.” Casey murmured with a click of his tongue.

“Hey, is it okay if I write a check for this? Funds in my bank are kinda low right now.” The nurse hesitated for a moment before resuming to wrap Wiska’s arm and wrist.

“You’ll have to speak to billing about that.”

“What do you mean funds are a bit light? Ryder asked if you needed an advance for this trip, and you said you had it covered.” Lionel stood from the bed and crossed his arms, standing over Wiska like an angry parent.

Wiska rolled her eyes, a habit I found slightly adorable. If I could have come up with a more manly word than adorable, I would have used it. As it was, adorable was all I had.

“I did have it covered, silly! I paid for my flight.”

“What about living expenses?” Casey asked, flustered.

“I’ve got that covered, too. I just didn’t have swan attack in my budget.”

“I’ll cover it.” I sighed, knowing very well I could more than afford it.

“You will not,” huffed Wiska, trying hard for indignation, but looking more like a drunken sailor.

“Yeah, I will.”

“No, you won’t,” she said, trying to mimic my tone and voice.

When the nurse finished wrapping her arm and moved aside, I leaned forward and placed one hand on either side of her legs, effectively trapping her.

“Yes, you will,” I said with a little more force.

She tried to focus on me, but I was obviously too close, and she ended up looking a little cross-eyed and a whole lot darn cute. Cute, that was as fucking bad as adorable.

“I’m going to pay for your medical expenses, Wiska, since I should have thrown you over my shoulder and walked you away from the tempting evil swans. You are obviously tempted by sparkles and pretty things, so I know for next time. For my error though, I will pay your hospital bill.”

Wiska’s head tilted, and she moved back a little so she could see me properly.

“If I say no, will you promise to spank me later?”

My mouth opened to come back with a witty retort; instead, I came up with nothing. The thought of Wiska’s naked backside in my lap turned my brain to mush and my cock to steel.

“Okaayyyyy, she’s really going to regret she said that later,” murmured Casey.

“Why? Bradley’s not going to spank her. She’s not ten!” Lionel snapped.

The mood in the room had chilled slightly, only Wiska seemed impervious to the three grumpy men standing around her.

“Firstly, you like to be spanked and you’re over thirty, and secondly, she’s high as a kite right now. She’ll be embarrassed later.”

“Well, I’m not a child, and I like to be spanked, too,” whispered Wiska. “So, tell me, Bradley . . . are you up for the job?”

She spoke with a seductive purr that drove me crazy, then she smiled. Her beautiful blue eyes were shining with warmth, her sexy lips begging for attention. When her gaze dropped to my rock hard dick, I seriously thought about pressing her to the hospital bed and kissing all the sass right from her mouth. Instead, I stood back, quickly.

“I’ll go talk to billing,” I said, backing away from the room.

Casey watched me with a raised brow, Lionel swung around to help Wiska, and I ran. Well, not physically, but metaphorically. I moved down the hall and into another that was currently empty. I stopped and leaned against the wall, taking a moment to get my raging hard-on under control.

“I told you we’re not going there. She’s a porn star for Christ’s sake.” I gently banged the back of my fucked-up head on the wall behind me.

Leah once told me that Decker had erectile issues; it had been a psychological problem brought on by years of meaningless sex. I found myself wondering if I had the opposite problem—maybe my cock was begging for attention because I had been ignoring it? Maybe I needed to get laid. Maybe I could take a pill to make the fucking thing soften. Maybe I just needed to screw Wiska and get her out of my system.

“Nope, she fucks other men for a living; she is trouble; she’s just like Leah . . .” I sighed, remembering her vibrant glow as she had tried to get closer to the swans—the playfulness in her eyes, the sweet laughter from her lips. “She’s nothing like Leah,” I confessed quietly. I drew a deep breath and gritted my teeth against the sweet smell of her perfume that clung to my shirt after carrying her when she fainted. “Come on, womb whistle. You really need to back the fuck off. I can’t walk around the goddamn hospital with you trying to break out of your package.” I took a few more deep breaths and tried to ignore Wiska’s scent. I tried to think of anything
but
Wiska, anything to tame the beast in my shorts. I thought of baseball, football, my mom . . . yeah, that did it, my mom, and nanna! “I swear to god, if you do that to me again I will . . .” I glanced down at my groin and laughed. “Who am I kidding? We’re good, buddy. Just try to control yourself next time.” I pushed off the wall and stepped around the corner only to come face to face with Casey, Lionel, and Wiska, all of them staring at me with curious looks on their faces.

“Who were you talking to?” asked Wiska, glancing around, clearly seeing an empty corridor behind me.

“I was on the phone,” I spluttered.

“Sure you were,” said Casey, grinning.

Wiska snorted and slapped him across the chest with the back of her uninjured hand, and then she gifted me another of her stunning smiles. My cock twitched again, and I panicked.

“Come on. I’m late for work,” I growled, moving around them.

I needed to get out of here; I needed space between me and Wiska, like nothing short of a football field. I could still smell her, and damn, she smelled good. Maybe a golf course between us would do the trick. I glanced over my shoulder when she giggled at something Casey said. She was so beautiful when she laughed. Fuck, maybe I’d need to leave the country for a while.

*

Two days later, I sat at my desk, drumming away to the beat of “Counting Stars” which played from my phone, straight into my earbuds. I was on the tenth floor of a thirty floor office building owned by the Willie Bianco estate. He had hundreds of other business interests in the UK, many of which ran out of this building. The other offices were leased by other companies, which made sure Willie got the return he needed on this prime piece of real estate in the middle of London. I was holding a sticky note in my fingers.

Her handwriting was loopy and soft, feminine, just like her. She had drawn a heart around it, and for some reason, probably courtesy of my incessantly ignorant dick, I had grabbed the note off the kitchen counter this morning and stuffed it in my pocket. Now I was mooning over it. Dammit! I scrunched it up and threw it in the trash can at my feet.

With the music flooding my ears, I obviously didn’t hear the knock at my door, so Davina let herself in. She was my sixth secretary in three years, and I couldn’t figure out why I couldn’t keep one. They were easy enough to catch, but I’d be damned if I could figure out how to keep them. The last one, Jackie . . . well, I had screwed that up spectacularly by screwing her. Willie didn’t give a fuck who I fucked or where, but working with a woman you accidentally slept with in a moment of weakness was total insanity, especially when the woman wanted something I couldn’t give her. I wasn’t looking for a commitment, and I felt like pond scum for not making that clearer to Jackie.

I didn’t normally behave that way with women. I was always up front when I was looking to scratch an itch. But, I’d been pissed off at the monumental failure my relationship with Leah had been, and I’d turned to a very willing secretary.

I liked women—hell, I fucking loved women—and I loved to show them just how much I love them. But I had rules:

1.              I treated them with respect, even if it was only a one-time tumble between the sheets.

2.              I didn’t do employees, friends, friend’s sisters or relatives, and just recently, I’d added porn stars to the list.

3.              I didn’t sleep over, and I sure as shit didn’t cuddle.

4.              I made sure women knew what they were getting into before I got into them. It was always casual, no strings attached, mind blowing sex.

Jackie had hoped for more, and for that I paid dearly; I lost a great secretary and was still sorting through some very angry hate mail with some very explicit plans for my genitals.

I glanced at another sticky note sitting on my desk. It was far from hate mail and was one I had saved from yesterday.

She had done my laundry! While I had been rudely ignoring her in an attempt to battle the raging lust burning under my skin, she had been nothing but completely sweet. SHE DID MY FUCKING LAUNDRY! Her tiny hands had been on my underwear. I groaned and glanced up as Davina paused in front of my desk, one hand on her hip, a wad of files in her other.

She was stunning, and I was appalled that I had hired someone so fucking stunning. I was not going to break my rules again, but as Davina stood there in a tight grey skirt, which hugged her ass in a way that made my fingers twitch, and a sleeveless white silk top, which gave an impressive view of her cleavage. I really wanted to slap myself for tempting fate on rule number two. I should have specified to the employment agency that my secretary needed to be over fifty. Over fifty, married, kids . . . fuck, even grandkids. That would be a safe secretary. Davina was not safe!