Page 11 of Dark Seduction

I glanced down at the stains on my pants. How was I going to explain to Daniel his drooling stains on my zipper?

This time I held him with one hand when I aligned him against the black leather seat. His shoulders slumped, his head shot forward, and he almost tumbled over.What the fuck?I decided another tactic, wake his drunken ass up.

I shook him several times. “Wake up, Charles. You’re almost home and I’m not up to this tonight,” I barked. He never stirred as if he were dead.

I asked myself how I was going to explain this to Daniel.He would understand, was my first thought as I exited the limo into a barrage of cameras clicking, reporters stirring around looking for someone. It never occurred to me who they were looking for. The driver stepped out to help me maneuver the dead weight.

“How can anyone that slim and lean weigh so much,” the driver said. I stood waiting as the driver mumbled, and then hoisted him over my shoulder. I should have slapped him on his ass, and I bet he would have awakened then.

Standing a few seconds, I asked the driver, “Are you going to help me bring him inside?”

“It’s not in my contract, and the company could get sued. You’re a lawyer.” He hunched his shoulders and left it at that.

I hadn’t thought about what the driver had said. I could drop him, but once he was on my shoulder it wasn’t bad, because I could handle him now.

I was proud that I could carry him, because of the time I’d spent in my home gym because of the restrictions during Covid. And as my father said, ‘everything has worth’ few things were wasted. ‘You never will know when you’ll be able to use what you’ve learned.’ and because of spending time getting my body in shape, I could now pick up a hundred and forty or fifty pounds of dead weight. That’s what I spent all those years in Entertainment law for? To babysit an out-of-control actor. Good job if you could get it, and I got it. Somehow I knew it wasn’t going to be as easy as I thought.

When I headed for the upscale apartment building I was wondering what all the commotion was, until a news reporter shoved a mic into my face.

“How long have you known Charles St. John? Is he as out of control as the media say he is?”

That reporter didn’t wait for an answer, he continued with a barrage of questions as I marched to the entrance of the building with Charles’s lean firm ass across my shoulder, and some cameras focused on his butt, and the others aimed at his drooling mouth covered by his shoulder-length hair. I hoped they didn’t pay attention to me as I tried to hide my face. At this point it was a waste of time, because the only face that was visible was mine along with Charles’s covered ass.

However, the reporters did get a peek at his face, and his distressed jeans with torn material conveniently across both ass cheeks. I tried to place my palms over one to cover the fact that he didn’t have on underwear.

The tight distressed jeans I could relate to, but someone with his money, why would he wear that torn shirt and jeans which invited the publicity surrounding all the things I thought Max had warned him to avoid, or maybe that was my job too.

Finally, I reached the inside of the lobby, and the doorman stopped the flurry of people from entering the building—a building I’d never be able to get into because I couldn’t afford it, even on my salary.This kid has to be making serious money,I thought.And look what he does with it. Drinks until he passes out before he faces the reporters.

I got an eyeful of the private elevator when someone stepped out, and I could guess the square footage of one of the apartments in the building, and he lived in one where there had to be a few penthouses.

Turning around, looking at security, I said, “Can anyone give me some help?”

“You look as if you’re doing fine. I have a bad back. Why do you think I’m sitting here? Besides it’s not my job,” the guy said sitting at the security desk. I turned to the doorman who had punched the button and was holding the elevator. And he shook his head. I wondered what his excuse was when I stepped into the elevator.

The elevator zoomed up, and that’s when I gave a hard swat and let Charles down on his feet. “You will have to walk into your apartment on your own, because I’m going home.” To my surprise he stood straight up.

“Are they gone?”

“I thought you were drunk?”

“No one gets drunk on four shots. I’m young and fit. Maybe your boyfriend, but not a young man like me. I could fuck all night, if that’s your thing, or if it isn’t, then I’m not opposed to talking.” He shot me a sly grin and a wink as he put in his code to enter his apartment.

“So, that was all a ruse, and you got me here when you knew I was going home to my fiancé.”

“He’ll still be home when you get there. If not, more for me. I could use a Daddy.”

“I’m no one’s Daddy.” I narrowed my eyes at the brazen audacity of this young shit.” I should—”

“What? Paddle my ass, tie me up, and fuck me. Bring it on, the night’s still young, baby.”

“I wouldn’t because you might enjoy that too much,” I said as he opened the door to a fabulous apartment, marbled floors and white and off-white furnishings, and not to forget the chandeliers.

“Of course, I would love for you to do that and more, and you’re so mean. I like that about you. Whip me, Daddy, for being naughty.” He sucked his thumb. “You want to deny my young ass of all that excitement and pleasure. I bet that old guy—”

“He’s not old. He’s in his thirties.”

“Well in my world he’s considered old.”

---