Beauregard and the Beast Read online

  Before Adam could retort with an exaggerated show of offense, Bo shot him one of his patented belly-twisting, heart-stopping grins. Adam huffed out a calming breath to get himself under control before returning the smile. “Whataya say we call it quits a bit early tonight? We’re a month into this miserable shit. Halfway done. I’d say that calls for a celebration.”

  “A celebration?” Bo squinted his eyes. “I need more information before I agree to anything. You’re a man who can’t be trusted with surprises.”

  Adam let his wrist go limp before pointing to his chest. He popped his brows and drew back his chin in faux shock. “Who, me?”

  “Yes, you.” Bo glowered. “If you aren’t ruining my beautiful new clothes with sticky fake blood, you’re assaulting my ears with crappy music, or landing me on the wrong side of a grumpy bouncer. My tailbone is still bruised from that behemoth throwing me out on my backside.”

  Guilt pinched Adam’s stomach. He hadn’t meant for Bo to get tossed out of his favorite club the previous weekend. He was so used to waltzing through the entrance of 1 OAK at the Mirage unchecked—the velvet rope lifted and his path cleared without question—that he hadn’t considered his tagalong would warrant different treatment.

  It had been meant as a surprise, so he hadn’t told Bo where they were going that night. The goal was to show him the glitz and glam of the Vegas Strip, one favorite haunt at a time. But Bo had forgotten his ID. The bouncer didn’t catch up with them until Adam was already at the bar ordering drinks, and because Bo could easily pass for underage in the dim kaleidoscopic lighting, he’d been thrown out on his ass before Adam even knew he was missing.

  “Okay, okay, fine.” Adam harrumphed. “No surprises. How about plain old dinner? We could hit up Giada for old time’s sake.”

  Bo slammed his workbook shut and smirked. “I’m game, but only if there’s no fake blood in my immediate future.”

  Adam held up his trusty three-finger Boy Scout salute. “On my honor.”

  “I should get my head examined for trusting a curmudgeon like you not to tell a lie.” Rolling his eyes, Bo rose to his feet. “Come on, old man. Let’s get some food.”

  AS always, Giada was hopping. The host recognized Adam and made quick work of finding them a table, although the location was less than optimal. It sat smack dab in the middle of five others and held no semblance of privacy.

  “Any chance we could wait for a booth in the back?” Adam side-eyed a group of twentysomethings sharing a meal a few feet from the two-top the host had led them to. One of the young men had narrowed his gaze on Adam and was whispering to the guy beside him. He’d been made. “We don’t mind sitting at the bar for a bit.”

  “Nonsense.” The host pulled out the chair closest to Bo and smiled as he gestured for him to sit. “Ms. De Laurentiis would be upset if I didn’t seat you immediately. This is one of our finest tables, Mr. Littrell. It offers a prime view.”

  Not wishing to make a scene, Adam nodded and thanked the host. Bo joined him at the table when he sat, oblivious to Adam’s concern.

  Bo’s teeth raked over his lip as he scanned the menu. “So are you going to get the same thing you got last time? Or try something new?”

  “I’ve had everything on the menu at least twice. It’s all phenomenal.”

  Adam smiled when Bo’s expression turned serious and contemplative. No doubt he was attempting mental calculations with his overworked brain to assess his financial situation. Adam had learned to be careful when they went out to eat together so as not to hurt Bo’s wallet if he couldn’t convince the man to let him pay. This time, considering the restaurant he’d chosen, Bo would just have to bend. “This was my idea, so I’m footing the bill. You know the rules. Order whatever you want.”

  Bo opened his mouth to argue—an inevitability Adam found as adorable as it was infuriating—but before he could get a word out, the two young men who had recognized Adam appeared at their table. Bo cocked his head in silent question when Adam’s face slipped into the hardened countenance of the Beast.

  “Holy shit. I knew I was right. You’re really him, aren’t you? You’re the Beast.” The towheaded, pimple-faced man who had first spotted Adam bounced on his heels. “I’m a huge fan, man. You’re a fuckin’ legend.”

  The second guy, nearly half a foot shorter than his lanky fellow, ran a hand through his dark brown locks and shoved his friend aside. He flashed a brilliant white smile as he cocked a hip against the table, blocking both Bo and the blond from Adam’s view. “We’ve met before. At an after-party following one of your title defenses a few years ago. Do you remember me? My name’s Rajesh. We had a hot encounter on the balcony of the L Suite at Mandalay Bay. You were going to take me home with you, but we got separated.”

  Oh, for fuck’s sake. Adam clenched his jaw and glared at the beaming, cocky man leaning way too far into his personal space. No, he didn’t remember the guy. But that wasn’t saying much. How many “hot encounters” had he had on random balconies over the years? More than he could count. Not that he was proud of that fact. Especially not now. Not with Bo sitting two feet away. “Can’t say I do.”

  Rajesh’s grin only grew at that response. “Oh, sure you do. You’re playing coy because you’ve got a date. But I could do you way better than this twink ever could. And I don’t require dinner first. Why don’t you take me back to your place? I can show you what a good time looks like.”

  A month ago, Adam would’ve taken Rajesh up on that offer without thinking twice, but he never would’ve brought him home—that line of his story was utter bullshit. Rajesh was clearly lying. At least partially. Adam never brought sexual partners to his house. That was his sanctuary, and he didn’t do overnights.

  But now? Things had changed. He wasn’t interested in some random one-night stand. His priorities had shifted. He wasn’t sure when, but he damn well knew why.

  Beauregard Wilkins. That’s why.

  Adam slammed his fist on the table. Cutlery and glass clinked as the wooden surface vibrated beneath his attack.

  Rajesh pushed to a full standing position, a smirk tugging at his lips. “There’s my sexy Beast. Come on, honey, blow off this little bitch and let a real man take you to bed.”

  “Fuck off, you—”

  A very deliberate clearing of the throat drew Adam’s fuming gaze to the host, whose eyes glimmered with nervous anxiety. “S-sir? Is there a problem here?”

  “Yeah, there’s a fucking problem.” Adam pointed at Rajesh. “You have ten seconds to get this piece of shit out of my sight before I pound his ass into the ground.”

  Rather than scampering away as any smart human would’ve done, Rajesh blew Adam a kiss. “For your sake, I hope your little twink puts out. If he doesn’t, I’m staying at the Flamingo. Room 416.” He linked arms with the wide-eyed blond, sneered at the host, and sauntered out of the restaurant.

  Bo sat like a statue, his lips curled in and his eyes bugging behind the rims of his glasses.

  If there had ever been a chance Bo might give Adam a shot someday, it was gone now.

  Just. Fuckin’. Great.

  Chapter Twelve

  BO shifted his hips, hoping to make room in the tight-fitting designer jeans for his unexpected response to Adam’s beastly nature. At first he’d found the whole encounter amusing. Adam’s player reputation was hardly top-secret information. It was a wonder they hadn’t run into more of his prior conquests over the past month.

  But when things started to heat up and Rajesh the Stupid kept poking the proverbial bear with his idiotic goading, the humor died. Not because Bo was offended by the insinuation he was after Adam or that he’d fail at pleasing him in bed—in their own way, those were both true, after all—but because he’d gotten his first real look at the man the media feared.

  And the Beast, in all his glory, was sexy as all get-out.

  Adam scrubbed both hands over his face, a low growl rumbling up his throat. “Fuck, Bo, I’m so sorry.”

&nbs
p; “There’s nothing to be sorry about.” Bo tried to offer a smile of reassurance, but Adam wouldn’t meet his eye. “It isn’t your fault—”

  A high-pitched squeal assaulted Bo’s eardrums. He cringed away from the noise. Across the table, Adam’s eyes darkened. “We gotta get outta here. Now.”

  Bo opened his mouth to ask why, but Adam was already on his feet. He grabbed Bo’s bicep and yanked him out of his seat. Bo tripped over his feet as he attempted to make his legs go from a dead standstill to near-running after Adam.

  The squawking and screaming grew louder as they neared the entrance, and bright flashes of light now paired with the auditory attack.

  “Shit.” Adam stopped abruptly. Bo continued blundering forward, but because Adam still gripped his arm, his momentum carried him in a wide, stumbling arc. When he crashed into Adam’s chest, Adam wrapped an arm around Bo’s waist to steady him. The cacophony grew near-deafening.

  “Mr. Littrell, sir, there’s a back door off the kitchen.” The host’s quavering voice appeared out of nowhere. “I’ve already got an Uber en route. Should be here momentarily. The gentleman promises to be discreet.”

  Rather than releasing Bo or shoving him away, Adam tucked him against his side. The hard warmth of his body felt like heaven, and the problem in Bo’s pants kicked back to life in earnest. He should be afraid, or at the very least concerned, but with Adam holding him close, he felt nothing but safe.

  Adam led him through the kitchen, but all Bo caught were glimpses of chrome and harsh fluorescent light. Most of his attention focused on the solid security of Adam’s arm around his shoulders and the sinew and muscle moving against his side, separated by only a few thin layers of clothing.

  By the time they exited the building, the Uber driver was waiting for them. Adam hustled Bo inside, then slipped in beside him. He gave the driver his address, then dropped his head against the seat back and blew out a long, low breath. “Well, that was a clusterfuck. Stupid asshole went out and ran his mouth. I could wring his neck.”

  Bo rubbed at the spot on his shoulder where Adam’s strong hand had gripped him only a few moments before. He bit his lip to stop the frustration and loss from pulling his mouth into a pout. He didn’t want to talk about Adam’s ex whatever he was. Not right then. Not when he could still feel Adam’s body surrounding him. Holding him close. Keeping him protected. “What are we going to do about your car? It’s still parked in the garage.”

  Adam chuckled, rolling his head on the seat until he met Bo’s gaze. “We can pick it up tomorrow. Or I’ll pay someone to drive it out to the house. It’s not a big deal.”

  Maybe to Adam it wasn’t. But Bo was responsible for the car, even if Adam did more than half the driving. It was part of his job. He glanced out the window. As per usual, traffic on the Strip crawled by. They’d barely made it half a block. “Why don’t I hop out and go get it now? It’s a short walk, and it wasn’t me that crowd was after.”

  “No fuckin’ way.” Adam sat up straight, his hand landing on Bo’s knee. Another physical touch that would haunt Bo in his bed that night. “They saw you with me. They took your picture. It isn’t safe. You aren’t going anywhere but home with me.”

  A tingle raced under Bo’s skin like the jolt of a live wire, and his insolent dick stirred yet again. He lived with Adam, but it wasn’t his home. He couldn’t think of it that way. He had to keep their professional relationship at the forefront of his mind, even if they had developed a friendship over the past weeks. A friendship so symbiotic and perfect it made keeping his feelings under check much, much more difficult.

  He needed to change the subject.

  “Why do you hide behind the Beast when you’re in public?”

  Adam tipped his chin as he studied Bo. A slow, wry smile crept up his lips, and he huffed out a laugh. His hand disappeared off Bo’s knee as he settled back into the seat. “A clothes diva who loves musicals and cries at sappy romance movies wouldn’t intimidate the badass motherfuckers I gotta face in the octagon. I’ve told you that.”

  “But you aren’t facing any, ah, bad you-know-what’s at restaurants. Or on the street. So why hide your wonderful personality?” Bo stifled a grin when Adam’s cheeks flushed a glorious shade of pink. “It’s got to be lonely pretending to be someone you aren’t all the time. How can you develop relationships with people when they don’t know who you are?”

  Adam was quiet a moment, then a half smile pulled at the corner of his lips. “You know who I am.”

  Holy crap on a cracker. Bo swallowed and shifted his hips. This conversation was doing jack-nothing for his ever-present erection. “I do, and we’re friends because of it. Can you imagine how many other friends you’d have if you let people in more often? And not only friends but, you know, other things too.”

  “Other things?” Adam lifted a brow.

  Bo pressed his lips flat. There was no doubt Adam knew exactly what he was getting at. “Yeah, you know, people you could hang out with who aren’t me. Or Kyle. People who could, ah, do the things with you we can’t.”

  Adam ran his tongue in a slow, deliberate circle around the point of a canine. “And what things can’t you do with me?”

  An exasperated, horny groan escaped Bo’s throat. “You know what I mean.”

  “Clearly, I don’t. Enlighten me.”

  Heat flooded Bo’s cheeks even as it crept into his groin. His dick throbbed, and he clenched his fists. He’d never wanted another man more than he wanted Adam. Sleeping two doors down from the star of every sexual fantasy his brain could conjure was pure torture. As was spending his waking hours in even closer proximity. Especially when Adam was half-naked and covered in sweat 50 percent of the time.

  But wanting was a far stretch from being allowed. And he absolutely was not allowed to carry through on his desires. Not with his boss. Not with Lulu’s next tuition payment coming up.

  Bo ordered his fists to loosen, then smoothed his hands over his thighs and cleared his throat. “You know… b-boyfriend stuff.”

  Dang it. Stuttering was exactly opposite of what he needed to be doing. He needed to give off an aura of nonchalance. He needed Adam to believe he didn’t want “boyfriend stuff.”

  “Boyfriend stuff?” Adam’s eyes flashed with delight. At Bo’s obvious discomfort, no doubt.

  Bo folded his arms and narrowed his gaze. “Are you going to parrot everything I say?”

  Adam lifted his hands in innocence. “Hey, sorry, I’m trying to follow what you mean. I’ve never done the boyfriend thing, so I’m gonna need a bit more clarification on what this ‘boyfriend stuff’ entails.”

  “You are such a pain in my butt.” Bo glowered at Adam. “You know exactly what I mean. I’m not going to say it, especially because it is off-limits.”

  Adam sobered. His face slipped into a scowl. “I’m sorry about Rajesh. I’ve done a lot of things I’m not proud of, and he’s one of them. But I’ve changed. I’m not like that anymore. I don’t want the same things I used to want.”

  What was Adam getting at? He couldn’t possibly be trying to say that he, what, wanted “boyfriend stuff” now? No frickin’ way. That wasn’t the Beast’s style. And even if it was, it didn’t matter. Lulu’s well-being came before anything. Even if Bo worked three full-time jobs, he’d never make the kind of money Adam paid.

  “You don’t have to explain yourself to me.” Bo huffed out a breath. “I’m just your PA.”

  “Right. I know. I’m sorry.” Adam shrunk into the corner and cast his gaze to the blurred landscape beyond his window. The look of resignation marring his beautiful features stopped Bo’s heart cold.

  “Your PA… and your friend. I’m your friend too, Adam.”

  Adam nodded, a weak smile ghosting over his lips. But his stare never left the rhythmic pulse of the passing streetlights.

  Bo’s heart kicked sluggishly back to life, but the damage was already done. His chest ached and nausea coiled in his gut.

  Maybe after he had
his GED, he could look for another job. If he found one that paid at least close to what he got working for Adam, he’d take it. And if Adam hadn’t found someone else by then, and if he hadn’t lost interest in Bo, maybe they could give some of that “boyfriend stuff” a try.

  Until then, as much as it broke him to hurt Adam and say no to something they both wanted so badly, friendship was all they could have.

  Chapter Thirteen

  ADAM tossed his bag of sweaty workout clothes onto the sidewalk and ran a hand through his shower-damp hair, grateful for the short-lived cooling effects of evaporation. Even in the dead of autumn, afternoon temperatures in Las Vegas sweltered. If Bo weren’t so predictable and punctual, he would’ve taken advantage of the gym’s air-conditioning a while longer.

  A soft, feminine throat-clearing drew Adam’s gaze to a middle-aged woman with gentle brown eyes and skin the same rich mahogany as Kyle’s. She scrunched her brow and offered a hesitant smile. “I’m so sorry to bother you, but you wouldn’t happen to be the Beast, would you?”

  Instinct had Adam hardening his expression, and the woman took a step back. It wasn’t until she shifted that he spotted the small boy by her side. He couldn’t be more than eight years old. Probably closer to six or seven. The woman tucked the child closer and held up a palm in apology. “I know it must be terrible to have people invade your privacy like this. I’m so sorry. I never would’ve said anything except Trey and his father are big MMA fans. You’re their favorite fighter. He was so excited, and I just… didn’t think.”

  On a normal day, Adam would’ve let the woman apologize and go on her merry way. He rarely, if ever, chatted with his fans. That was part of the persona. Not one he enjoyed, but one Kyle encouraged. He’d said it would make Adam more elusive and keep his name on the public’s lips. People wanted what they couldn’t have, after all.

  Still, Adam often wished things were different. He yearned for a connection with his supporters. Something more emotionally satisfying than being a lumbering oaf that terrified them, at the very least. Something akin to the relationship his father had with his followers.