Marry Me Read online

  MARRY ME

  G.A.HAUSER

  MARRY ME

  Copyright © G.A. Hauser, 2013

  Cover design by Mark Antonious Richfield

  Photograph by Dennis Dean

  Edited by Stacey Rhodes

  ISBN Trade paperback: 978-1482-7433-7-1

  The G.A. Hauser Collection LLC

  This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons,

  living or dead, or business establishments, events or

  locales is coincidental.

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this may be used or

  reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written

  permission, except in the case of brief quotations

  embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  WARNING

  This book contains material that maybe offensive to some:

  graphic language, homosexual relations, adult situations.

  Please store your books carefully where they cannot be

  accessed by underage readers.

  First The G.A. Hauser Collection LLC publication:

  March 2013

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  Dennis Dean Images

  Award-winning photographer Dennis Dean continues to

  make his mark as an internationally known photographer. He is

  credited for his creative abilities, strong composition, and

  dramatic lighting. Dennis specializes in state of the art digital

  photography for fitness, fashion, and fine art.

  Dennis published his first art book, "Within Reach" to rave reviews, which led to his work being showcased in a plethora of

  art publications, fitness magazines, calendars, greeting cards, as

  well as countless exhibitions, including two in London at the

  Adonis Art Gallery.

  He is the founder of Dennis Dean Images and creative

  director and photographer of Five Star Monkey's Ruff Riders and

  Live Free Be Strong brands. He is also the editorial

  photographer for Mark and Passport Magazines, having shot countless covers and fashion layouts.

  Dennis is proud to be partnering with Fort Lauderdale’s

  Royal Palms Resort & Spa showcasing his work in all the rooms,

  bar and grill, the spa and fitness center. Stop by the resort to see Dennis’ work, or make an appointment for a photo session at

  954-240-8307.

  Be sure and check out www.DennisDean.com &

  www.RoyalPalms.com.

  Chapter 1

  Wearing his costly Ralph Lauren suit and tie, Braxton Todd

  stood in his office overlooking the downtown Hollywood hills

  through the brown smoggy haze. The spring had brought rains

  and wind, but when the air grew still, the LA aura of brown, a

  tarnished halo for the city of night, appeared.

  His Bluetooth on his ear, Braxton paced, glancing at his

  computer screen as he spoke. “Don’t you worry, babe. I’ll have

  every A-List celeb there for the screening. You just get decked

  out in something fabulous. You’re going to be the next big

  Hollywood thing.”

  “Thank you so much, Braxton! Having you as my PR man

  has made so much of a difference. I really appreciate what

  you’ve done for me.”

  “My pleasure, Monique. It’s what I get paid for.” Braxton

  watched his second line lighting up. “Let me go, babe. You just

  text me or my assistant if you need anything before Saturday.”

  “I will.”

  “Bye.” He tapped his ear piece, “Braxton Todd.”

  “Hello, darling!”

  Judging by the thick Italian accent, Braxton knew this was

  Sophia Deluca. “Hi.”

  “Just making sure you don’t forget the charity auction this

  Saturday night.”

  “Shit.” He had. He rubbed his face and checked his calendar

  on his handheld device. “I even wrote it in. Okay. Uh…” He

  tried to figure out how to be in two places at once.”

  “Braxton…” was said admonishingly.

  “Chill, Sophia.” He tapped with his thumbs to add a reminder

  to his application on his phone. “What time does it start?”

  “Eight. We’re having the champagne dinner then the auction,

  darling. Of course you must be there! No excuse…eh?”

  “Then you really don’t need me until nine or ten.”

  “Don’t you disappoint me. You’re going to be one of the

  biggest fundraisers we show. I so much have been promoting

  you.”

  Braxton laughed sadly and stood, looking out the window of

  the tenth floor offices again. “I’m up for sale to the highest

  bidder. How appropriate.”

  “Of course! You will be a smash! We will have several

  highest bidders. I’ve news for you, darling, anyone who donates

  is going to win a date with you. Three times, dates. Three.”

  Braxton rubbed his face as the idea brought some trepidation.

  “They understand it’s just for dinner, right? I mean, I’m not

  whoring myself out.”

  “Braxton! It’s for cancer research! That is insulting.”

  “My luck I’ll get some stalker who will think I’ll become

  their…cough…”—he

  rolled

  his

  eyes—“boyfriend.”

  Involuntarily Braxton sneered.

  “Yes. Of course. They may become infatuated with you, you

  gorgeous thing, but they are only bidding on a date. No funny

  business.”

  “I only do ‘one dates’. I never see a person twice.”

  “Then perhaps you are a whore, yes?” She laughed as she

  spoke.

  “Yeah. I know. A picky one. Okay, Sophia, I’m swamped.

  Let me go.”

  “Nine latest! Do not let me down!”

  “No. I’ll be there. I will.” Braxton tried to add it to every

  calendar and device he owned to remind him.

  His assistant Brianna entered his office, waiting by the door

  as he spoke
on the phone. Braxton held up his index finger to

  indicate one minute.

  “You cannot forget. I will call you all night so you

  remember.”

  “How did you rope me into this? Christ.” He ran his hand

  through his hair.

  “I no rope you. You volunteer.”

  “Oh.” He couldn’t remember what he had for lunch an hour

  ago so he never recalled offering to do this event. “Gotta go.” He

  disconnected the line and Brianna approached him with a

  handful of paperwork.

  “What’ve ya got?” he asked her, looking down at the forms.

  “The list of celebs who agreed to show up on the red carpet

  for the next four premieres, and a selection of caterers chomping

  at the bit for you to use them in one of the parties.”

  “How’re they priced out?” Braxton took the forms and sat at

  his desk, seeing his computer load with unanswered emails, his

  phone hum with missed text messages and his telephone line

  light up.

  “I put sticky notes on my favorites.” She answered the phone

  from his desk. “Braxton Todd, can you hold?” She put the caller

  on hold and sighed. “Man, it’s gone loco around here lately.”

  “Can you handle it or do we need another body?”

  “I always need help, but I can do it…just working late.”

  “Put an ad in the paper or online. But I get the choice once

  you’ve narrowed the pool.”

  “Thanks, Braxton. I’m about to go bonkers we’re so busy.”

  “Look, it’s a good thing. Beats the damage we had from the

  recession two years ago.” He tapped his earpiece and nodded to

  her to go. “Braxton Todd, can I help you?”

  Brianna waved at him and left his office.

  ~

  Braxton shut down his computer. He was wired from too

  much caffeine and his throat felt slightly rough from talking for

  the last eight hours. He removed his earpiece and ran his hand

  over his thick brown hair. He dropped into his leather swivel

  chair as Brianna shouted through the door, “I’m going home!”

  “Night, sweetie,” he called back and took his cell phone out

  of his pocket as he heard her leave his office. Text after text

  awaited him—the majority was work-related, but a few were not.

  Those he had left until his work was done. He couldn’t be

  distracted during the day. It was hard enough keeping up, and

  Brianna was right—they were too busy at the moment and

  needed help. Suddenly the job of public relations for budding

  new celebrities and even the washed up ones who were revived

  from baby-boomers’ nostalgia had brought his firm back to life,

  even after it had teetered on the brink of bankruptcy not too long

  ago.

  Holding his phone, he straddled his legs and read the

  messages, deleting them as he went. Men, women, all ages and

  races, hunted him down like he was some form of prey species.

  What they didn’t get was he was more predatory in his tactics

  than prey. Braxton was a hit and run lover.

  At thirty-three, working out with a personal trainer daily and

  having the luck of the genetic pool, Braxton knew he was good

  looking. Was he conceited? Well, at least he assumed he was. He

  wanted someone as pretty as him to fuck.

  He didn’t kiss a mirror…but he did know he could tempt A-

  List Hollywood celebs with his charm, chiseled jaw, perfect

  smile and big brawny build. He preferred men to women, since

  men usually understood the mentality of… Go Away! and didn’t cry when he didn’t call after sex.

  But he’d fuck anything pretty.

  How many lovers had Braxton had? He was clueless. In his

  twenties he’d actually kept track, writing down their names, and

  when he didn’t even know that, he’d write descriptions. He lost

  track at over two hundred.

  He swore by safe sex, refusing to screw bareback, and had

  never contracted anything nasty. Not once. Luck? Yes. And

  being a keen observer of his sexual conquests’ behavior. The

  true predatory cat, he investigated them before he chewed on

  them.

  Life was about observation and being smart. He had both

  qualities and that’s why he was so successful at the art of

  seduction. He got laid. A lot.

  “Delete. Delete…” He stopped to read an email from

  someone who had contacted him via his PR website. His

  information was public since he was in business directories and

  he did respond to calls and texted back on his business line.

  The text was from a twenty year old guy named ‘Dominic’. It

  read, ‘ Free? I am.’

  With the message was a photograph, thank fuck, of the man’s

  face, not his cock. The young man was pretty. Very fucking

  pretty. ‘ where?’ Braxton replied.

  The return message was instant. ‘ Anywhere. u name it.’

  “Mm.” Braxton smiled and looked around his empty office.

  He texted an address and then took a picture of himself, sitting at his desk in his suit and tie, sending it.

  ‘ Be there in ten.’

  Braxton grinned to himself and scrolled through the other

  messages, deleting them as he went. He’d enjoy a nice blowjob,

  then if the man was sweet and not annoying, he’d take him for a

  quick dinner.

  Young, old—didn’t matter to Braxton. As long as they had

  good self-esteem and hygiene, he was willing, but only once. He

  didn’t do two dates.

  Besides he was hungry and he wouldn’t mind a companion to

  chat with during a meal. He opened his desk drawer and

  removed a protein bar, peeling back the wrapper to eat it as he

  waited. While he did, he checked out menus on line, one for in

  case Dominic was a dud, to order to get delivered to his house in

  Santa Monica, or…if he was cool, to dine in WeHo with his

  companion.

  He finished the protein bar and headed to the men’s room to

  check his appearance, wash his hands and face and go over his

  busy schedule for the next week in his head. It was a Thursday in

  March and he was already thinking of his April deadlines and

  commitments.

  Ooh. I used the word ‘commitment’.

  He gave himself a look of disdain in the mirror over the sink

  in the men’s room. He made the sign of the cross. “Don’t even

  think the ‘C’ word, you bad boy. You’ll end up with a needy

  man tonight instead of a nice BJ.” He relieved himself at the

  urinal and knew by seven, his building, or at least his floor,

  would have emptied for the night. There were several law offices

  above and below the tenth floor, and they worked into the

  evenings at times, but his floor? Accountants, plastic surgeons,

  and office drones. Gone by six, latest.

  He stood at the sink with his cock hanging from his trousers

  and gave it a good wash out of respect to Dominic. Though

  Braxton had no doubt he smelled sexy, everywhere, he’d had a

  long day of work, and although he was cut, he still wanted to

  smell ‘fresh’. He hung his soft cock over the sink and gave it a

  nice soapy rinse, tempted to jerk off to the image of his ow
n

  body in the reflection but resisting it. He used paper towels to

  dry himself, not getting his trouser wet, which made him happy,

  then he inspected his hair and face.

  “Hello.” He shot himself a dazzling smile and touched his

  forehead and laugh lines, considering Botox but maybe not yet.

  Soon. His clients all indulged in the practice and Braxton knew

  some excellent plastic surgeons when it came time. He was

  tempted, but still considered himself strikingly handsome. And

  Brianna would tell him to go get it, if he needed it.

  He checked his ass out in the mirror and returned to his

  office, reading his gold watch. “One more minute, sweet stuff,

  and yours truly will go out for a meal on his own.”

  As he approached his own office, the elevator chimed and he

  paused. The doors opened and there was the gorgeous Dominic,

  appearing thrilled to have been invited.

  “Hi.” Dominic made his way towards Braxton.

  “Hi, back.” Braxton touched his cheek affectionately and

  entered his quiet office, walking to his desk and sitting on the

  chair. No need for formalities in his opinion, Braxton opened his

  pants and exposed his cock.

  “You gorgeous fucker!” Dominic knelt on the floor between

  Braxton’s legs and took his cock into his mouth, moaning.

  Braxton caressed his short hair, feeling the tips like a bristle

  brush. Dominic moaned and tugged Braxton’s trousers lower.

  Braxton raised his hips and his belt and trousers dropped to his

  ankles.

  Sucking Braxton like a pro, the young man drew as much of

  Braxton’s cock into his mouth as he could as he held Braxton’s

  balls. He gave it a nice slurp, then asked, “You want to fuck

  me?”

  “Why don’t you continue what you’re doing? It’s so nice.”

  He got a devilish grin from Dominic who went back to

  holding the base of Braxton’s cock and sucking deep and hard.

  Braxton rested his head on the chair and closed his eyes as

  Dominic did everything Braxton could wish for, including a nice

  rim rub and ball massage.

  “Yes.” Braxton could have edged the climax all night, but he

  was hungry. He spread his legs wider and Dominic sucked

  harder, fisting Braxton more quickly. “Perfect. That’s it.” He felt the climax rising and warned Dominic, “I’m there, pretty boy.”

  Instead of backing out and cupping his cock, Dominic

  swallowed. Another point for his pretty baby.

  “Oh yes.” Braxton floated on the climax high as Dominic