Devon Hartford - Reckless

“No,” I corrected, “I’m happy to do a copy of the poolside portrait for her.”

“So what’s the problem?” Brandon asked.

Sensing defeat, Tiffany struggled with herself. Her face contorted angrily. “The pool painting is ruined!” She stomped her feet on the deck of the yacht.

Welcome to Tantrum Town, population one.

“Okay,” Brandon soothed. “Christos already said he’d paint another one.”

“That’s not good enough!” she shouted.

Brandon suddenly looked squeamish, and for a second, slightly sniveling. He was unsure how to proceed.

I stifled a chuckle. Yes, Tiffany could ruffle even Brandon’s unshakable feathers.

“So what would you like, Tiffany?” Brandon asked calmly, having regained his composure.

“I want Christos to pose me for a new poolside painting.”

I’d had it with her manipulations. “Has she paid you yet, Brandon?” I asked. I still didn’t have all of the money from my show, which meant not every buyer had cut a check to the gallery, which was normal.

Brandon chuckled.

“What’s so funny?” Tiffany hissed.

“Why no, Tiffany’s father still hasn’t issued a payment,” Brandon said, a bemused grin stretching over his perfect teeth.

That was news to me. I’d hoped the Kingston-Whitehouse check might be one of the first to come in, considering how long my family had known theirs. Why wasn’t I surprised? Oh yeah, it was the Kingston-Whitehouses.

“Slow pay, huh?” I grunted, looking at Brandon. “It’s been almost two months, Tiffany. You took possession of the painting, and your dad still hasn’t cut a check? Come on. At this point, it’s not even yours. Your dad having money troubles?” I jabbed.

Tiffany frowned.

“No deal,” I said, a tinge of irritation breaking through my voice. “Keep the painting, Tiff. It’s on the house.” I glanced at Brandon.

He nodded, smiling furtively at me. We both knew with all the recent interest in my art, we had far bigger fish to fry than the Kingston-Whitehouses.

“But it’s ruined!” Tiffany shouted.

“Throw it over the side of the boat, for all I care,” I growled. I’d always hated that painting anyway. It was nothing more than hack-work for the all-time, ultimate, pain-in-my-ass client.

I’d already wasted enough time on Tiffany. I turned on my heel and went looking for Samantha.

I just hoped that Tiffany and her family wouldn’t bite me in the ass in the coming weeks, because they were sharks and always struck the second you weren’t looking.

Fucking Tiffany.

My New Year was already looking like a disaster, and I was less than three hours into it.

Could it get any worse?

CHRISTOS

The yacht arrived back in the harbor several hours after midnight.

Everyone on board was tired, buzzed, or completely asleep on one of the yacht’s many cushioned surfaces when the crewmen moored the boat to the docks.

Tiffany hid in her cabin while people disembarked. I think she wanted to avoid me after our discussion.

Samantha and Madison had their arms around Kamiko as they led her along the docks. She was still somewhat hammered. Brandon joined them to help with Kamiko.

Romeo walked over to me and Jake as the seven of us ambled toward the parking lot.

“Christos,” Romeo pleaded earnestly, “I’m so sorry about Tiffany’s painting. None of it was Sam’s idea, it was all mine. I drank too much and Tiffany was being a class-A bitch to Sam. I couldn’t help myself.”

“Dude, no worries.” I clapped him on the shoulder. “You were standing up for my girlfriend. How can I hold that against you?”

“Thanks, C-man,” Romeo said, but he still sounded distraught. “You got all the ink off, right?”

“Yeah. I covered that painting with some old-school Renaissance varnish before I sold it. That shit is bulletproof. It’s as good as new.”

“Are you sure?” Romeo obviously felt terrible.

I didn’t feel like explaining that the painting was now a total write-off because Tiffany was insane and her dad had never paid. I really didn’t care, but it probably would’ve bummed Romeo out to know. “Seriously, dude. It’s fine.”

“Thank you, C-man.” Romeo gave me a fist bump.

“Whoa!” Samantha cried.

Me and Romeo turned around to see what the fuss was.

Kamiko was having difficulty walking, even with Madison and Samantha helping.

I immediately went to help, but before I got there, Brandon swept Kamiko up into his arms and carried her. Compared to him, she looked like a small child.

“Don’t puke on him, Kamiko,” Romeo warned.

“It’s okay,” Brandon said confidently. “I think she’ll be fine.”

“Okay, puke away!” Romeo joked tiredly. It had been a long night for everyone.

When we got to my car, Samantha offered to sit in the back so Kamiko could have easy access to the window in an emergency.

“You don’t have a barf-bag in the glove box, do you?” Samantha asked.

“No,” I smiled.

After we all climbed in, Brandon gently lowered Kamiko into the front seat.

“Look at her love eyes,” Romeo snickered.

Brandon looked slightly embarrassed. I couldn’t tell if he was into Kamiko or not. He was usually inscrutable when it came to the ladies, with the exception of Samantha, where he’d made himself crystal clear from the start. Who knows, maybe Kamiko would grow on him. She was pretty damn cute.

“Good night, everybody,” Brandon said. “And happy New Year!” He slapped the roof of my Camaro as we drove off.

I smirked to myself.

If this year was going to be a happy one, I was going to need all the help I could get.

SAMANTHA

We made it back to my apartment shortly before sunrise. Kamiko was passed out. Christos picked her up out of the car.

“Where do you want her?” he asked.

“Oh, I don’t know,” I said. “Romeo? Are you okay to drive?”

“Uhh,” Romeo said nervously.

“You guys better sleep here,” I said.

“Okay,” Romeo said reluctantly as we all walked up the stairs to my apartment. “But only if I get to sleep with Christos.”

“As if,” I said while unlocking my door. “He’s sleeping in my bed.”

“Perfect!” Romeo said, “you can share the couch with Kamiko while Christos shares your bed with me!”

“Down, Romeo!” I said. “It’s my apartment, and I decide who sleeps where.”

Romeo rolled his eyes. “Fine. Party pooper.”

While Romeo and Christos took turns in the bathroom, I changed into a t-shirt and boxers.

“Christos,” I asked, “can you pull out the bed in my sofa while I help Kamiko use the bathroom? I’ve got extra sheets in my closet.”

“Sure,” he answered warmly.

“Gaaaah,” Kamiko moaned as I walked her into the bathroom.

Kamiko managed to pee on her own, but I stood watch in case she accidentally slipped into the bowl while flushing and we never heard from her again.

The sofa bed was all made up when I led her out of the bathroom. I sat her on the end of the mattress. Romeo took her shoes off while I pulled her dress over her head. Since it was Romeo, I never thought twice about him seeing her in her underwear. Christos, on the other hand, waited in my bedroom, I think out of politeness.

I removed Kamiko’s bra and slid one of my t-shirts over her head before putting her to bed.

“Nnnnn,” she said when her head landed on the pillow.

I put the wastebasket I kept beside my desk for paper trash next to Kamiko’s side of the bed.

“You’re on puke patrol,” I said to Romeo. “If Kamiko needs to hurl, you need to help.”

“It would be my honor,” he said, tucking in one arm while bowing in a courtly manner. He hung his jacket and pants over the back of my desk chair. While standing and bouncing on one leg, he pulled his skinny jeans off one leg at a time, turning each one inside out. “I forgot how tight these are.” He rolled his eyes. “The things I do for fashion.”

As he lifted up the corner of the covers, he gave me a serious look. “Are you sure it’s okay for me to sleep with Kamiko?”

“What do you mean?”

“I might try to take advantage of her in the middle of the night. Maybe it’s safer if the boys sleep with the boys, and the girls sleep with the girls.”

I folded my arms. “No, Romeo,” I smiled.

He crawled into bed and I shut out the lights.

“Fine, Sam. But don’t blame me if you’re torn from your slumber by Kamiko’s plaintive cries for help.”

“I think Kamiko will be fine,” I said. “But I better lock my bedroom door, for Christos’ sake. You better not try anything,” I warned.

“How about a three-way?” he whispered hopefully. “You won’t even know I’m there. I’ll be in the back, if you know what I mean.”

“No, Romeo! You’re crazy! Now go to sleep,” I pleaded before closing the bedroom door behind me.

Christos was already lying on my bed, stripped to his boxers. His tattooed arms were folded casually behind his head. My bedside lamp shone on him invitingly, casting dramatic shadows over his ripped muscles in the near-darkness of my bedroom. His abs suggested that now was a good time to lick them, no matter how late it was.

“Hello,” I purred.

He chuckled. “Don’t you think you’re being a little hard on Romeo? I mean, can you blame him for lusting after me?”

I smirked. “I’m going to be hard on you, if you don’t stop talking about Romeo.” Seized by newfound confidence, I crawled onto the bed on all fours and dipped my head, licking my way around his abs, loitering around his navel for awhile, which made him moan. I licked my way up his chest, then stopped at a nipple and nipped it with my teeth.