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Tabloid Trouble
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Book Details
Dedication
Tabloid Trouble
About the Author
Tabloid Trouble
Kiss Me Quick
Megan Derr
The danger of being a star is that everybody watches, waiting for the star to fall. Cassidy hasn't seen his lover Malcolm in two months, their drastically different schedules conspiring to keep them apart. He's deathly afraid of what will happen when his lover steps off the plane, and the first thing that greets him is the tabloid shots of Cassidy kissing someone else.
Kiss Me Quick is a collection of short and sweet stories from authors familiar and new, celebrating the season of love. Come and enjoy these tales of misunderstandings, lonely singles, pining lovers, and so much more! Because if there is one thing that is never in doubt, it’s that LT3 knows the way to your heart, and these stories are a straight shot.
Book Details
Tabloid Trouble
By Megan Derr
Published by Less Than Three Press LLC
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission of the publisher, except for the purpose of reviews.
Edited by Courtney Davidson
Cover designed by Megan Derr
This book is a work of fiction and as such all characters and situations are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual people, places, or events is coincidental.
First Edition February 2012
Copyright © 2012 by Megan Derr
Printed in the United States of America
ISBN 9781620041215
Dedication
To K-lee,
Because she's awesome and deserves
all the rockstars she wants
Tabloid Trouble
Cassidy punched Beckett as he sauntered into the hotel room looking like he owned the place, clipping him on the jaw and sending him stumbling back. Nowhere near content with that, Cassidy gave him a shove, sending Beckett crashing into the table behind him. When Beckett tried to stand, he only succeeded in falling to his knees, fingers grasping at the tablecloth, pulling the fancy meal arranged on the table down on top of him.
Beckett stood up, too-tight leather pants covered in food, torn and scratched. He had mashed potatoes and gravy in his long, multi-colored hair and pieces of roasted vegetable stuck all over him. He looked so ridiculous Cassidy almost laughed. Beckett hated anything that ruined his 'I'm So Badass' image.
He was still too fucking angry to laugh, however, and any chance of calming down vanished whenever he glimpsed the tabloid papers in the nearby sitting chair. He'd nearly thrown his fucking laptop out the window, he was so fucking pissed. "You son of a bitch!"
"Calm the fuck down," Beckett said, gingerly testing his jaw. He began to pick off the bits of food stuck to him, grimacing at the salad dressing soaked into his hair and fancy silk shirt. "You're overreacting."
Barely resisting an urge to punch him again, Cassidy said, "Overreacting? You kissed me—kissed me like we were lovers or something, at a goddamn charity event, when everyone and his fucking brother knows I'm with Malcolm? It's everywhere, Beckett! The tabloids will run it for days and the internet will run it forever. Malcolm doesn't need to land and immediately be bombarded with rumors and 'evidence' that I'm cheating on him! That the world actually thinks I would dump him for a scumbag like you."
Sneering, Beckett replied, "It's fame, honey. Relationships change on a dime. It'll fade in days but the publicity will work all of us wonders for ages. It's not like you'll actually lose that yuppy pretty boy of yours."
Cassidy did not reply to that. He'd sent half a dozen texts and called three times, and Malcolm hadn't replied to a single one. Not unusual, if he was travelling; more than likely he'd just forgotten to turn his phone back on. Malcolm preferred to muscle through airports and save the talking for later.
But Cassidy's gut roiled anyway, because they hadn't seen each other since a brief two nights together in mid-December. Hadn't even been able to spend Christmas or New Year's Eve together, their schedules had gotten so jacked up.
Malcolm would know Cassidy wasn't fucking around on him, right? Especially not with Beckett. Shit, Cassidy didn't even care for his music much, had not been thrilled they'd be playing the same venue, but he was all about helping kids so he'd sucked it up.
Only to wind up with pictures of Beckett attempting to shove his tongue down Cassidy's throat posted fucking everywhere. Beckett laughed in that snide way of his that set Cassidy's teeth on edge, drawing him from his unhappy thoughts. "Guess things aren't so great with the sugar daddy if you're this worried about one stupid kiss. Wasn't even that much tongue."
"If you don't get out of my face, I'll break every bone in yours."
Beckett had the temerity to laugh again. "You're such a princess. I can see why Jet and Dai love you so much; they set the bar on princess a long time ago. No one in this business is faithful, honey, you know that. We do better when we're not. Tabloids sell tickets, not talent." He gestured to the papers on the chair. "That right there is fucking awesome publicity."
"It's good publicity for trashy assholes like you," Cassidy snapped, shoving Beckett away when he tried to draw close again. "I don't need your trailer park antics, Beckett. If you've ruined everything with Malcolm—"
He cut off as Beckett suddenly moved, with more speed and force than Cassidy thought he could muster given that he reeked of cheap whiskey. Cassidy grunted in pain as Beckett shoved him into the wall, pinned his wrists beside his head and shoved a thigh between his legs, trapping Cassidy. "Get over yourself, princess. This is how the real world functions, learn to accept it. Stop acting like you live in some special fairytale world. You think someone like your pretty boy doesn't help himself to all the ass that happily falls down at his feet?"
"Malcolm isn't like that," Cassidy replied.
Beckett laughed, nuzzled his cheek, breath reeking of whiskey and an inability to use a tooth brush. It caused Cassidy to remember their kiss, and made him want to retch all over again. "Of course he's like that. They're all like that. You'd be like that if you just got the fuck over the idea of being a Cinderella story. He's young, wealthy, and hot—of course he's fucking everything that offers. Why shouldn't you?"
Cassidy hadn't heard the door open, hadn't heard anyone come in, but he would know the scent of Malcolm's sex on a stick cologne anywhere. They'd been in Paris, and the cologne had been a gift from a friend of Malcolm's from their days at Amberton-Lord. Malcolm had put it on to be silly and Christ, Cassidy had gone wild. It made him hard just smelling it.
Beckett smirked at him. "I see you're getting the idea. Or should I say, getting off on the idea."
"The only thing I'm getting off on is the way my boyfriend is about to kick your ass."
Beckett looked at him in confusion, but whatever he was about to say turned into a pained yelp as a hand grabbed his greasy ponytail and yanked. Cassidy drew a breath, glad to be away from Beckett's stench and free of his hold. He felt like he needed a shower, even though he'd just taken one.
He watched as Malcolm proceeded to kick Beckett's ass, landing more than a few hits before he finally ended the whole affair by breaking Beckett's nose. Beckett toppled, and Malcolm grabbed him, dragged him to the door where two of the hotel staff waited calmly. If anyone gave a damn about the mess Beckett's blood was making, it didn't show. Malcolm stopped in front of the two men, grabbed Beckett's hair, and forced his head up. "Try to mess with my boyfriend again, and I'll break a lot more than your nose." He didn't wait for a reply, simply shoved Beckett at the patiently waiting staff.
They gathered Beckett up and took him qui
etly away, discreetly tucking away the bills Malcolm handed to them, closing the door quietly as they left. Malcolm turned, raked his hands through his hair, then unbuttoned the blazer of his well-tailored, blood-stained suit and threw it aside.
Cassidy huffed out a laugh as he found himself pressed up against the wall again, a leg between his thighs, Malcolm's hands on either side of his head. "Hi," Malcolm greeted.
Still laughing, Cassidy kissed him, wrapping his arms around Malcolm's waist. He moaned as Malcolm took his mouth, fucked his mouth, erasing any and all traces of Beckett from it. Cassidy whimpered when he finally pulled away, needing more of Malcolm after going so long without him. "You smell fuckable," he said.
Malcolm laughed, nipped at his lips. "Sorry I'm late. Airports suck. Not as much as charity events, apparently. How is he still alive?"
"Murder would have meant I wouldn't be getting laid tonight," Cassidy said. "I'm sorry. You shouldn't have had to see that. I tried to text and call—"
He was cut off by a quick, hard kiss. "Sorry, my phone died. I forgot to charge it, and I was mired in meetings all goddamn day. I thought being a playboy was supposed to be easy." He sighed, just buried his face in Cassidy's hair a moment. "It was like a punch to the gut, seeing that picture of you two."
"I'm sorry."
"S'okay," Malcolm said quietly. "I didn't think you were actually doing anything, I was just pissed off someone was trying to play it that way. We've come too far, you and me, to fuck up now."
All the knots in Cassidy eased at that, and for the first time in a long time he was able to relax—well, relax except for the part where he really wanted to be naked, in bed, with Malcolm fucking him senseless. "Still, I'm sorry. I wanted to kill him, and probably would have if you hadn't shown. If I find out our agent had anything to do with it, I'll kill him too."
"I'm just glad you're okay," Malcolm said. "I saw he had you against the wall and just saw red. I wanted to fucking kill him. Beckett's a weasel; I wouldn't have put it past him to do something slimy." He pushed away from the wall, tugged Cassidy with him, pulled him into another kiss, hands sliding down Cassidy's body to grab his ass.
Wrapping his arms around Malcolm's neck, Cassidy held tightly, moaning again at the scent, the taste, the feel of his sorely missed lover. "Long time no see."
"Tell me about it," Malcolm muttered, nibbling at his jaw, his neck, hands shoving into Cassidy's clothes to get at skin. "Been dying to see you. I'll fucking murder him if he comes near you again."
Cassidy laughed as Malcolm yanked off his shirt, pushed him into the wall again, and slowly sank to his knees, tasting as he want, lingering over each of the tats on Cassidy's chest—especially the intricate C and M twined together on his abdomen.
Then Cassidy's pants were down, Malcolm grunting in approval at the lack of underwear—and Christ it really had been too long if he had forgotten exactly how goddamn good Malcolm was at sucking cock. Cassidy tried to make it last, enjoy the wet, the heat, the way Malcolm used his tongue, but it had been too fucking long. He fisted his hands in Malcolm's hair and fucked his mouth, came too soon and shouted Malcolm's name way too loud and he just didn't fucking care.
Malcolm pulled off his cock, licked him clean, then surged up to kiss him again, hard and deep. "Mm, love you," Cassidy said, holding him tightly, closing his eyes and just enjoying the warmth, the feel, the scent of his lover. "You need to stop wearing that cologne, it drives me fucking crazy."
"I like you crazy. I'm happy just to finally have you, even if I had to break that asshole's nose first. Why the fuck he thought he'd get away with that shit, I don't know, but he'd better have learned his lesson."
Cassidy just held him tightly, trembling with relief. "I was afraid you'd think the worst," he admitted, the words muffled against Malcolm's shoulder.
"No way," Malcolm said softly. "I admit you could probably do better than me, but you wouldn't do it this way if you found someone else, and I like to think it's pretty goddamn hard to compete with me."
In reply, Cassidy just kissed him again, then repeated, "I love you. No one else. Especially not Beckett, to hell with him."
Malcolm grinned, combed Cassidy's hair out of his face, and kissed him again softly, fondly. "Love you, too."
Cassidy grinned. "So let's get crazy, if that's the way you like me. It's Valentine's Day and I haven't seen you in two months—that's definitely a call for crazy."
Laughing, Malcolm helped Cassidy out of his pants, and shed his own clothes as he followed Cassidy through the hotel suite to the bedroom.
Fin
About the Author
Megan grew up a military brat and traveled extensively with her family. She is now firmly settled in Ohio, with two roommates and their four cats. She has always been book obsessed, and writing obsessed since she first gave it a whirl in college. Romance and fantasy are her primary obsessions, but she’s game to write just about anything and enjoys a challenge. She is a sucker for stories of enemies becoming lovers. When not writing, Megan is drinking too much coffee, reading still more books, and harassing family and friends, or otherwise doing whatever possible to avoid editing.
Megan Derr, Tabloid Trouble
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