Tabloid Trouble

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.

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

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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

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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

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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.

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They gathered Beckett up and took him quietly 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."

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"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."

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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.