Page 43 of Insatiable Park Avenue Prince

“That Preston keeps selfishly all to himself.” East shot him a glare, and Preston shook his head.

“Because with East on his client list, I’ll never get a damn appointment again.”

“How come I’ve never heard of this guy?” I said. “I could use a massage.”

My entire body—especially the more private areas—was still a bit sore from the outdoor scene with Kelly a couple days ago, though really, I would preferhishands rubbing me down.

“I bet you could.” East’s gaze fell to my hands. “What’d you do, bust your ass on the pavement?”

Nope, Kelly busted my ass. In two.

I turned my palms up and gently traced over the scrapes that still decorated my skin. I hadn’t even noticed until I’d gotten home Thursday night that bracing myself on the rough brick while Kelly pounded into me from behind had cut up my hands. The high that had followed me back to my apartment lasted until the heat of my shower stung the shit out of the raw wounds.

It had been worth it, though. I didn’t even care that my agent would bitch me out when she saw them.

“Uh…yeah,” I said, dropping my hands. “Something like that.”

Was I still hiding Kelly—or Sin, as they still knew him—from my friends? Damn right I was. If they knew we were fucking they’d want details, and they had the resources to pry until they found out what I’d been doing in my spare time.

And my fellow Park Avenue Princes knowing my secret?

Not happening.

Changing the subject, I bullshitted with the guys for the next half-hour, grateful that Scotty had managed to get me to the shoot location on time. The early hour meant traffic hadn’t been too bad, but I had a feeling Preston and East would run into a few standstills on their way back in.

Not my problem.

As Scotty drove off, I shrugged my bag over my shoulder and headed down the Hudson Riverfront Walkway. I could see the huge white sculpture from here, the one I’d be shooting in front of calledWater’s Soul. It faced the New York City skyline and depicted the head of a woman holding her finger up to her lips.

Several white tents were set up nearby for catering, wardrobe, hair, and makeup, and also to keep the models out of the sun during breaks. As I stepped under one and pushed my sunglasses on top of my head, I immediately spotted my agent, Mira. She didn’t usually accompany me to shoots, but she’d wanted to see the sculpture up close and had never made the time to do so before.

“Good morning,” she said, giving me a double air kiss that I returned, bending over to reach her barely five-foot frame. She took a step back and ran her eyes over me, scrutinizing every detail. “Hmm. What’s different?”

I looked down at myself, didn’t see anything out of place, and shrugged. “You realize I’m now an eleven on a scale of one to ten?”

She shook her head even as amusement played on her dark, berry-colored lips. “Smartass. Something’s different, though. I don’t know what it is. Did you go on vacation?”

“Not since summer.” I didn’t want to explain that maybe all the orgasms Kelly had been giving me had probably given me a nice, healthy glow. Sex could do that. At least, I thought it could.

“Well, anyway. They’re not quite ready for you in hair and makeup. Want a coffee?”

When I nodded, she headed to the makeshift beverage station under the catering tent. When she handed me a paper cup and I reached for it, I saw her eyes widen, and she grabbed my wrist, tugging me forward. The cup fell to the ground.

“Van, what the hell is this?”

Well, shit. Of course she’d noticed the scrapes on my hands. I knew she would, because nothing got by her, and it was just my luck she’d shown up here today.

“I fell,” I said, starting to pull my hands away, but her grasp on me was tight for such a tiny woman.

Her dark eyes narrowed as they met mine. “You did not fall.”

“Were you there?”

“Where?”

“When I fell.”

“Wheredid you fall?”

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