Rook and Ronin Box Set: The Complete Alpha Billionaire Series (Books 1-5) Read online

  I snort out a laugh at the absurdity of my reasoning.

  "You OK, sweetie?"

  What's with the sweetie stuff around here? Is this how grown women talk to each other? "Yeah," I mumble. "Just thinking of something." I sit quietly after that and just let Josie do her thing. When she's done cutting she starts blow-drying, Elise is busy with another girl on the other side of the salon, but when she's done she comes back and begins to wrap my hair in hot rollers. "Roger wants big bouncy curls, he said. So, that's what you get today."

  "OK." That's pretty much the extent of my vocabulary right now. Just agree, Rook. Just agree and take your money and then you'll have more choices, but right now, you just have to do what you're told.

  When she's done Elise ushers me over to another part of the salon and someone applies makeup while another girl does my nails. "You need toes today, honey?"

  I shrug. That's not a question I can answer with OK. The would-be pedicurist leaves to ask Elise, and I can hear Elise become frustrated and tell her to get busy on my feet.

  I've never had a pedicure, and maybe if I was paying for it and I was somewhere I could relax, I might enjoy it. But right now the last thing I want is this woman touching my toes. I balk a little when she starts rubbing cream on them, but she mistakes that for being ticklish. "Don't worry, hun. I'm not a tickler. You'll be fine."

  I suck in a deep breath and let them do their thing.

  When I'm done my hair is filled with loose bouncy curls, my nails and toes are both cherry red, and my make-up has me looking like I should be walking Colfax with the whores.

  Elise comes back as I sit there, feeling stupid and fake. The other girls are on a break and the place has quieted down considerably since my arrival. For some reason I imagined models and artsy photographers as being afternoon people, but what do I know?

  "OK, Rook. You're up." She thrusts a garment bag at me. "Since you've met the dressing room, go on and get dressed—only put on what's in the bag. When you're done, go find Roger, he's the blond one."

  I don't even get to say OK this time. She walks off, calling for someone else.

  Chapter Twenty-Two - Rook

  The dressing room has a few girls in it, but they ignore me and concentrate on themselves.

  I take the hint and do the same.

  Or I try to, because they are all naked and I'm just not ready to get naked in the middle of the room with these girls.

  A tiny girl, someone who looks like the opposite of the image you have in your head when you say the word model, stops in front of me and smiles. "First day?"

  I try not to notice she's got no shirt on, but I think I fail. "Yeah."

  She nods her head towards the other side of the room. "There's privacy stalls over there if you need one." And then she saunters off, her long blonde hair bouncing along her butt.

  Modest these girls are not. I look down at myself and get a sick feeling. I'm not sure I can get naked in front of them so I opt for the private dressing rooms.

  The outfit was not what I was expecting. In fact, I almost laugh when I take it out of the garment bag. It's a pair of well-worn jeans and a dark red t-shirt. Both of which look like they came from the men's department so they are monumentally too big for me, but I do what I was told, pull on the jeans, and slip the shirt over my head. There's no bra or panties in the bag, so I'm commando on both ends.

  When I study myself in the mirror I can only sigh. Why did Elise get me all made up just to wear some old, half-ripped jeans and a cruddy t-shirt?

  I walk out barefoot, because there were no shoes in the bag either.

  At first I figured finding Roger could not be that hard, but there are no blond guys with cameras, so I just stand there until one of the girls comes out of the dressing room and I grab her attention real quick. "Roger?" I ask, as if that explains everything. She points to a guy who is sitting on a table on the far side of the studio. I turn to say thank you, but the girl is gone.

  I take a deep breath and walk over towards Roger. He spies me coming from a distance and walks to meet me.

  Well, that was nice.

  "Ruth?"

  "Ah, no. I'm Rook."

  "Rook, right. That's what I meant. OK, Antoine just wants the standard portrait shots and then if we have time, I'll take some artistic ones of you and Billy since he has the other half of this outfit on."

  He points to a shaggy-haired guy across the room who is also wearing an old pair of weathered jeans and a red t-shirt. Only his are much smaller than mine. "Maybe they got the clothes mixed up?" I say out loud before I can stop myself.

  Roger laughs. "Why do you say that?"

  "Well, his clothes look awfully tight and mine are awfully loose. It makes no sense."

  He eyes me cautiously. "You're really new, aren't you?"

  "First day," I reply as the nervousness appears in my stomach as a billion butterflies. "Why? Is there some secret about the clothing sizes that I should know about?"

  He shrugs. "Ready then? Go stand over there and then we'll adjust the lights." I do as I'm told and stand on a little x taped to the floor. He's got four helpers just for us and they bustle around with lighting things and the background image, which is just black.

  And that's pretty much where my thoughts stop. The rest is just turning and looking, and changing position, and closing my eyes, then opening them. I do a whole lot of things—standing, sitting, kneeling.

  But the one thing I never get asked to do is smile.

  Again.

  This is weird to the point of almost being creepy because the last time I was here Antoine never asked me to smile either.

  "OK, Rook, go grab Billy over there and we'll set up for the artistic shots."

  I nod out a yes, but this makes me jitter with nervousness. I walk slowly over towards the Billy guy. His shoot is over and he's just hanging out with a girl.

  A girl who looks pretty pissed off that I just walked up to them and interrupted.

  "Uh, sorry. Excuse me, Billy? Roger asked me to come get you."

  The girl sneers at me then kisses Billy, drags her fingernail down his chest, and whispers, "Call me later," as she saunters off. I watch her for several seconds before turning back.

  Billy is watching me.

  I smile.

  He sighs and walks over towards Roger.

  Shit, these people are not as friendly as I'd hoped. Even Elise was kinda short and testy with me today. I look up at a giant clock on the wall and wonder when the day will end. It's already almost six o'clock and I'm very hungry. I munched on my take-home breakfast from Cookie's the other day, but that was right after I came home from Ronin's and I didn't have any lunch. Maybe this is why models are so skinny—there's no food around!

  I reach Roger a few seconds after Billy and they are already positioning him on a bed that has somehow materialized. My heart beats a little faster and my eyes dart around to try and figure out what we're doing.

  "Relax, Rook. There's a reason for the loose clothing, it's so that when Billy here gropes you the clothes show some skin. So go ahead and sit down next to him and we'll get this started."

  Gropes me? I'm thinking I'm saying that out loud, but I'm not. So no one explains, but Billy does get up and takes my hand and leads me over to the bed.

  "First time?" he asks casually as we stand there.

  "What?"

  "For an artistic shoot? I haven't seen you around before and you look pretty nervous."

  "I am," I confess. "I've never done this before."

  He slips his hand up my shirt and all I hear is the rapid clicking of a camera shutter. I look around and the shoot has started.

  "Don't worry, it'll be quick." He tugs on my shirt, exposing my belly, then pulls it up and leans in to kiss me. I don't know what I'm thinking but I let him. This is work, right? This is what they do? Kiss each other?

  I have no idea, but his hands are all over me, his mouth is traveling down my neck fast, and I'm starting to shake.
/>   "Easy," he whispers. "He won't shoot long. Just listen to me, OK?"

  I nod.

  "Just let me do my thing, pretend you're in love with me and my hands are a gift from God, and he'll get his shots and we can go eat or something."

  Is he asking me out? I am so confused but I do what I'm told. It's not that hard, Billy is doing all the work, really. His hands do the groping, pulling the red shirt this way and that, exposing my skin, my belly here, parts of my breast there. It's OK. This is work.

  "OK, Rook," Roger says, interrupting my thoughts. "Take his shirt off, slowly."

  Oh, shit.

  "Any day now, Rook."

  I nod. OK. I lift up the bottom of his shirt—

  "Slower, Rook."

  Right. Slowly.

  "Now look at him while you do it."

  This gets very personal, very fast. Because Billy here has a hard-on, I can feel it as he presses his leg against my hip, and his eyes look like he's about to throw me down on the bed and make me scream his name right here in front of the whole studio filled with people.

  "Keep working, Rook."

  I tug the shirt up again and Billy lets out a moan. "Shit, Rook," he says. "You're sexy. I don't even have to try."

  I do try… and ignore him, that is. But it's pretty hard when Roger is constantly telling me to look Billy in the eyes. Finally, finally I get the shirt over his head and then he starts on mine.

  "Am I supposed to take my shirt off?"

  "Just go with it, Rook, or we'll be here all fucking night."

  Billy leans in to kiss me and the shutter goes wild again.

  "Slower this time, Billy. I need lips for stock art."

  Billy slows down and takes his time coming at me.

  "Rook, either respond or we'll have to do it again."

  I do my best, but I'm not that great of a kisser and Billy here is doing enough for both of us. His hands slip around my waist, pulling me close. "Touch me, Rook, let the man get his photos."

  I allow my hands to travel up his torso and feel a shiver burst from his skin. My body responds the same way as his hand slips under my shirt and then he spins me around, lifting the loose fabric up as his hand explores my breast. He's kissing my neck and tugging on the jeans. They are so loose, they almost fall down my hips. This makes Roger call out a "Nice, Billy! Do that some more," to which Billy responds by slipping his hand right between my legs.

  I let out a giant gasp and Billy is about to swipe my shirt clean off when Ronin is up in his face screaming. "What the fuck are you doing?"

  I'm discarded by Billy, instantly forgotten as the two of them push each other.

  Roger is trying to run interference and then Ronin pushes Billy so hard he comes hurtling towards me, knocking against my shoulder, and sends me crashing to the ground.

  Everything stops.

  Everyone looks.

  And then Elise is pulling me up and shoving me towards the stairs as Antoine and several other people pull Billy and Ronin apart.

  "I fucking told you portraits, Antoine! What the fuck is going on here?"

  "Go upstairs and wait for Ronin, Rook," Elise says sternly, like this is somehow my fault.

  I start walking, watching them fight.

  What just happened?

  I get to Ronin's apartment but the door is locked, so I go back and sit on the top step because I can't even remember my birthday right now, let alone his security code. I just sit there and listen to them all argue inside Antoine's office. The door is closed, I can tell by the muffled voices, but it's not sound-proof.

  The yelling gets louder and then the door opens because the voices are like right there, echoing off the massive walls of the studio. Almost everyone has cleared out now, and then I watch Ronin as he takes the stairs three at a time. When he gets to me he stops.

  Just stops. There are no hurried words or fast actions. He is just still.

  "I'm sorry, I told Antoine what I wanted, but he forgot to tell Roger. It was a mistake. I'm sorry."

  "What was a mistake?"

  "That shoot with fucking Billy!"

  He says it like he can't believe I had to ask, so I just nod. "Right, OK."

  He takes my hand and leads me towards his apartment, then he must spy my bare feet. "Where're your shoes?"

  "The dressing room, with my clothes."

  "OK," he says, pushing me through the apartment door, "I'll get them, you stay here."

  I stand in the middle of the room, watching the empty space where he just was.

  This whole thing is getting weird. I might need to go back to the shelter. This thought makes me swallow down a giant lump in my throat because I really do not want to go back there.

  Ronin takes forever, so I just take a seat on the couch and wait. Still, he does not come back. I lie down and close my eyes. I have to admit, even after all I've been through in the past few months, this has been one of the longest and most confusing days of my entire life.

  Chapter Twenty-Three - Rook

  I wake abruptly as Ronin adjusts my body so my head is resting in his lap. "What?"

  "Sorry," he says. "You fell asleep and I just wanted to sit with you. Rook, I am so sorry about earlier. Antoine said he was going to do the shoot himself, I asked him to keep an eye on you. It shouldn't have happened."

  I sit up, the make-up from earlier making my face feel caked with filth, and I'm almost positive that it's totally streaked all over my face. I have like a ton of goop in my eyes and it's taking every ounce of self-control not to rub them red. "What was supposed to happen?"

  "Just some portrait pics, that's all. I told him."

  "Well, that Roger guy did take a bunch of those. I know that for sure. Then he said I was dressed for an artistic shoot with Billy and—"

  "Yeah, fucking Roger knows better. We don't stick new girls with Billy."

  I take a deep breath and turn to look at him. "Ronin, why don't you tell me exactly what you guys do here? Is it porn, or what?"

  "No," he says quickly. "It's not porn, it's… erotic art."

  "Uh-huh. Erotic art. So what exactly do you guys want me for? Just so we're clear."

  "Pictures."

  "Of me naked?"

  "No… I mean… well, somewhat naked, yes. We're not doing cock shots or shit like that, Rook. It's tasteful nudes and stuff."

  I laugh as I stand up. "OK, I'm probably gonna have to leave. I mean, I'm not against doing some pictures, even some racy ones, but I need to think about it and see how much money it pays and I'm not comfortable doing that here. So I'm gonna go back to the shelter for a while and you guys call me if—"

  "Absolutely not, Rook! You're not going to a fucking homeless shelter. We're having dinner with Antoine and Elise in an hour to sort it all out, you can't leave before you at least get all the details."

  I hesitate because I don't want to go back to the shelter, I mean, I would almost rather sleep anywhere else but there, so I hesitate.

  "Just go take a shower, put on your own clothes, and let's have dinner, OK?"

  I am seriously starving and my rumbling stomach wins the night. I can at least hear them out. "OK." He sighs with relief. "I would like to take a shower, actually."

  His eyes light up. "That's the best news I've heard all day. Follow me, I'll introduce you to the beast."

  I follow him into the bathroom off the hallway and he's not kidding. The shower is a beast. It's a massive work of tiled art with more knobs and shower heads than I can even imagine are necessary.

  He sees me eyeing them suspiciously. "Don't even ask, Rook. I have no idea what they all do. But if you press this button here"—he points to something that looks like a security system control panel—"then they all come on at once and I'll just warn you now, that shit is better than sex."

  "Oh," I moan, "that's too bad. I totally thought the only way I'd feel better tonight was if I could just get me some sex, but now that I have this here shower, I guess I'm good."

  "You're OK, then?"
He takes my joking as a good sign, but honestly, it's my default setting. When I get nervous and I'm not in danger of getting my face punched in, I tend to turn into a smart-ass.

  "I'm really not, but I'm trying real hard, Ronin."

  He walks over to me, doesn't touch me, but gets close enough so that we don't need to touch to understand what's going on. I can feel his presence, like his body has an electric field around it and I've suddenly found myself inside. I have to look up at him because now that we're standing right up next to each other I realize how tall he is. At least five inches taller than me and I'm five nine.

  "Just give us a chance, OK? If you don't want the job I'll understand. But this day should not have happened this way."

  He watches me intently but I'm not capable of talking about this right now. I need some space. "Can you go get me some clothes from the apartment? I'll even let you pick them."

  "Yeah, sure. I'll just turn on the shower for you." He messes with the control panel and water starts spraying out in all directions. I smile a thank you and he leaves, closing the door behind him.

  When I look in the bathroom mirror I was right about the make-up—it is totally smeared under my eyes. The beastly shower feels better than ever right now. My body is tired and not eating right is not helping. I hope they are having something good for dinner because if it's some French shit, I might scream and throw a fit until they feed me a burger or take me to the baseball stadium for a hot dog.

  When I'm done I wrap the towel around me and open the door cautiously, I can hear Ronin talking on the phone. I listen for a few seconds, but it's all in French and I only catch the name Clare. There's a small pile of clothes on the floor in front of the bathroom and I grab them and disappear back inside. He picked me out a very sweet white bra and panty set, some pink capris, a pink tank top, and a white cotton button-up sweater. I slip on my beat-up old Converse because they're all I have. When I look in the mirror my long black hair contrasts with the cute outfit and I suddenly feel like biker Gidget.

  He was so right last night—I'm no Gidget. I'm definitely a tragic if ever there was one.