Shelby's Angels: When Irish Eyes Are Dying Page 3

  “I have cultural pride, woman!” he shouted, glaring at Macey, who was holding up a green and blue MacGoogal creation that looked like something the cursed British would put together as a satirical joke at his people’s expense.

  That and the shade of green clashed badly with his hair.

  “Think of it as expanding your cultural boundaries,” Macey tried again, then frowned as James stepped into the room. “What do you think, James?” she called, forcing a plastic grin onto her plastic face. “Give us your opinion, dear!”

  “I think that he has the legs for it,” James said, staring at the thin but muscular appendages in question, “but he’s Irish, not Scots.”

  “See?” Blain crowed in delight, smirking at Macey, who was thwarted again.

  “So what? Should I have him fucking a sheep or something?”

  “Scots again,” James muttered as he looked over the outfits with something akin to horror on his face. “And that one’s still rumor, unless you’ve seen it for yourself.” He continued to stare at the costumes on the rack. “And this stuff sucks! He would look like a reject from an Irish Springs commercial! You have to do better than that, Macey.”

  “But public perception…”

  “Fuck public perception. We don’t want to come off looking culturally ignorant, racist, or just plain idiotic. Get the man some decent clothing. We are not playing up to stereotypes here. We would insult our biggest clients!”

  “And there are a lot of us Irish running around,” Blain reminded them with a self-righteous nod. “Prolific breeders, we are.”

  “Who’s a breeder?”

  All three turned as Adan, dressed in tight black leather pants and a racy frock coat, sauntered into the room. His calf-high jackboots didn’t quite fit, and made slapping sounds as they brushed against his legs.

  “No one here.” Blain sighed, looking at the pants. “At least not in these get-ups! My nuts have retreated back into my body to get away from all of this… crap! And boyo,” he added, staring at Adan, “you look like a bloody flaming pirate.”

  “That’s the look for the Freesia face creams,” Macey said with a smile, licking her chops at the sight of Adan in leather.

  “That’s not a good thing, darlin’,” Blain sighed. “They’ll be looking at his face, all right! Trying to decide if he’s a man or a bleeding woman on steroids!”

  “I don’t like it,” Adan said, sounding like he recently hailed from some obscure European principality. Though his voice was calm, his stance told the rest of the story. Leaning forward aggressively, hands on his hips, Adan was not a happy boy.

  “But I think you look delicious,” Macey sighed, grinning as she took a step closer, ignoring James’ eye roll.

  “You would!” Blain tossed in. “Look at the way you wear your makeup!”

  Blain shuddered and looked away, unwilling to sacrifice any of his -- person -- to the clutches of that painted hussy. She was a scary thing, and it looked to him like she was in heat.

  “I look gay,” Adan growled.

  He was fine with his sexuality, really, he just didn’t like looking like a reject from the all-male revival of Pirates of the Caribbean.

  “But you are gay, dear.” Shen literally bounced into the room and pounced on Adan, who still looked cool on the outside but was cringing in disgust on the inside. He pounced on Shen’s interruption like a lifeline -- well, he pounced on the inside. The outside was still too good-looking to spoil on extreme emotions.

  “Lover,” he acknowledged, his voice deep and sure as he turned to Shen, not sure what name he was using on his trip into gainful employment.

  “Baby!” Shen chuckled as he danced around the tall Spaniard. “What are you doing back here, when did you start this job, why didn’t you call me sooner?” Then a pause as he froze and stared at ‘his man,’ before he started again. “What the hell are you wearing? You look like a reject from the all-gay Errol Flynn movie festival.”

  It was the growling that made them both turn to stare at Macey Snow -- that and the loud, jackass-like braying that passed for Blain’s laughter.

  “Who is she?” Shen snarled suddenly, going possessive in the face of the oddly painted woman who was still glaring at him.

  “Macey Snow,” she snapped. “Head of Promotions and wondering how you got in here. We have security issues right now and are dealing with sensitive times.”

  “I let him in.” There was no mistaking that growling voice.

  “Edgar!” Macey appeared more angry than shocked.

  No one had noticed when the overblown, sweating man had entered, but they all noticed him stalking farther into the room.

  “I was contacted by the agency and told that Adan never works without his lover and makeup artist Shen Michaels.” Edgar smiled at the newcomer. “So when he showed up, I had to let him in. It was good of James to pass the request along, and I saw to it that all was on the up-and-up.”

  That closed Macey’s mouth, but she was not done, not by a long shot. “Edgar, you could have told me of this. I was about to have the poor dear kicked out on his ass.” Disdain was clear in her voice.

  “And you would have followed.”

  They were all slipping.

  Again, no one had noticed the newest player enter the room, but they definitely heard the steel in his voice. Raidon was decked out the traditional garb of a Japanese gentleman of leisure -- a white kimono, complete with sword belt. His hair was in a high Samurai’s ponytail at the back of his head, and he looked as fierce as ever.

  “At least you can walk down a street,” Shen sniffed, looking over his outfit with approval. “It fits you rather well and doesn’t demean you as a person.”

  Raidon nodded and turned to look at the other men, and shuddered. “And where is Delsin?”

  “He’s bringing the wardrobe trunk.” Shen headed toward the front door as if searching for their lost member. “He should be here any second.”

  “Wardrobe?” Macey was looking a bit put out. All of her plans were falling apart.

  “Of course, wardrobe! You don’t expect them to go out and take pictures looking like that, do you?” Shen snorted, growing a bit fierce in his posture as he glared at the woman.

  “I picked out the designs myself!” Macey protested.

  “So I guess that would explain why they look like freaks, all except for Raidon, that is. But then, the sun sometimes shines on a dog’s ass, too!”

  Delsin, swinging his long hair, which was thankfully bound in a calf-length ponytail of shining glory, entered the room pushing a rolling trunk.

  “And your makeup,” Shen added, almost as an afterthought, as he moved around the people in the room to help Delsin drag at the huge trunk. Together, they began the set up for the first makeup job.

  “If you would take off those horrid rags,” he told Blain and Adan, “we can begin.”

  “But I want them in those clothes!” Macey bellowed almost desperately, and everyone paused, for just a second, but then they went right back to what they were doing -- Adan and Blain making a mad dash for the trunk, and Raidon taking up a protective position over them all.

  “Stipulations, Macey.” Edgar smiled, unconsciously rubbing his hands across his hardening cock as he stared at the feast of men before him. “It was in their contract.”

  Drool was beginning to form at his lips, and he made little effort to hide his attraction or his display of lust.

  “Smart of them.” James stared at Edgar, then glared at Macey, before he turned and made his way out of the room. “Consider it a mercy dressing. A mercy that they didn’t have to be photographed like that.”

  “And if the rest of you would be so kind…” Delsin pointed to the door, and a snarling Macey barreled out of the room, catching a panting Edgar by his arm and dragging him with her on her way out. The door slammed with a loud, decisive bang.

  Lifting a finger to his lips in the universal signal for silence, Shen reached into the trunk and pulled out a magi
c wand. Okay, it was a bug sweeper, an electromagnetic device used to detect the electrical discharge of listening devices -- they all recognized it from William’s equipment lessons -- but it seemed magical to them.

  They all held their positions and watched as Shen carefully made a sweep with the thin rod. He pointed to an area over one of the huge mirrors that filled the large room, and then at a few lamps and potted plants. The room was well and truly bugged.

  “So, shall we begin?” Delsin asked sweetly, as he reached into the trunk and removed several of the small listening devices, intent on doing as Shelby and Rika wanted and bugging the hell out of the place. Or had they said building? He wasn’t so sure, but a well-placed bug was a well-placed bug.

  Smiling angelically, the Angels got to work placing the small devices around the room, hiding them in corners, in closets, in the potted plants -- where, strangely enough, there was one bug already. Shen pointed it out and they all shrugged, reluctant to destroy it. It wasn’t their property, after all. But they pulled the wires out and buried it in the soil, like a land mine.

  “Counter terrorism,” Delsin explained, and the others nodded in agreement, taking it for a right good idea. “Hide the grisly remains and onward from there. Like the last presidential election.”

  Soon all the bugs had been laid and they began the arduous task of dressing in proper clothing to get ready for the shoot.

  Disdaining the Irish Eyes makeup left for them, they began by using their personal styling products.

  “The brown, Blain!” Shen sighed, picking up the proper leather pants and handing them over, eyeing the legs that showed beneath the kilt. “They make your legs look sexy. That skirt…”

  “Kilt,” Blain sighed, not wanting to get into another explanation about Irish versus Scottish with Shen, who saw kilts and plaids as roughly designed women’s wear.

  “That kilt,” he corrected, “makes your legs look skinny. Skinny is not sexy, unless you think you’re Kate Moss. And if you think you are Kate Moss, or that she’s sexy, you have more issues than I do!”

  Rolling his eyes, Blain dropped the kilt and stood naked in front of the men.

  “What?” he asked as he watched all eyes turn toward him.

  Did they have a problem with him being a traditionalist and not wearing… foundation garments?

  “You shaved!” Delsin said, pointing to his groin. “You shaved off all your hair and didn’t ask us to participate.”

  “It was a spur-of-the-moment thing,” Blain said joyfully as he turned in profile. “Do you like it? I think it emphasizes the perfection of my pecker!”

  “But… I like the curls!” Delsin persisted.

  “But it’s a pretty cock,” Shen observed, smiling at the taller man. “Not as pretty as mine, but mine has a better than average prettiness.”

  Just then there was a slight singing sound, and Shen reached into his pocket to pull out a phone, one with a lot of features, like an internet camera, and internet access. Rika had prepared it especially for them, and they had picked up its usage with surprising ease.

  “Shelby!” he cried as his boss’ face appeared on the flip-up screen. “Quick! You have to see!”

  Before she could mutter a question or a response, the camera was turned and Shelby was greeted with a full monty money shot of Blain, standing there in his thick black boots, his sporran around his hips, his oversized shirt open and not covering anything, and his cock waving freely in the air-conditioned wind right below the sporran.

  “ACK!” Shelby made a noise none of them had ever heard her make -- outside of the bedroom when she was in heavy negotiations with Will.

  “Blain shaved! Isn’t it cute?” Shen was eager and helpful, pointing out various features of the shaven groin. “He has the cutest cock, and that’s amazing for someone who isn’t circumcised. I once dated an uncircumcised man. It was an overrated experience.” He shook his head sadly. “No staying power.”

  The others nodded in sympathy.

  “Too sensitive,” Blain agreed. “Not that I’ve ever had that problem. It takes control to wield a cock like mine, and if I have anything, it’s total and complete control of my cock.”

  The others nodded in agreement.

  Blain had pretty good control… over some more important sexual things.

  And he never lost control over his mind… unless he was drinking, or someone had insulted his hair or his accent, or William yelled at him for using all of the hand cream, or when it was raining, or when it was too hot, or when it was too cold… But he had total control of his cock. He could go for hours and hours with nary a premature ejaculation. It was almost awe-inspiring.

  “Ack!” She kept making that sound!

  It appeared that Shelby didn’t understand the finer points of cock control.

  “Shelby, I know you’re stunned at the perfection of his cock, but you have to calm down!” Shen looking a bit worried. “If you ask for a private viewing, I’m sure he’ll let you see and feel. Blain’s good about things like that.”

  Blain nodded, looking concerned at the blushing, sweating image of his boss, who peeked again through the fingers covering her face, and let out another wail.

  “Any time you want to feel me up, Boss Lady, you are welcome. I’m generous like that, and everyone should experience the uncut cock.”

  “Ack!”

  “Well.” Blain shrugged. “If that’s all that you have to say, we can change the subject. I think I need to talk to Will about educating you.”

  Shelby, at that point, closed her mouth so that the curses ready to escape would not.

  “I can tell you we bugged the place,” Blain insisted, placing his hands on his hips and absently swinging from side to side, making his cock bounce off his muscled thighs.

  “Naked!”

  “No, I was wearing a kilt when we bugged the place.”

  “Blain, you get some clothes on!” Shelby’s voice was trembling, but she managed to choke the words out.

  Shrugging, Blain kicked off his boots and pulled on the pants Delsin was holding out to him.

  “You’d think you’d see enough of cocks, the way William and you are always going at it,” he managed, rolling his eyes as he tried to stuff his penis into the tight leather. “We really do have to have a talk to him about educating you. I thought he was smarter than that! I guess book learning isn’t everything it’s cracked up to be.”

  “Shush, Blain,” Shen countered, turning the phone to face himself again. “Maybe William’s cut and never allows her to grope uncut men, sad as that thought is.”

  “Cut is better.” Delsin adjusted the seat of Blain’s pants, as the center seam didn’t neatly line up with his ass crack and made him look like one cheek was bigger than the other. “But uncut can be more fun. Foreskins are very mobile. And some of them can be quite long and fun to pierce.”

  “I don’t want to know!” Shelby screeched, shaking her head and wondering for the millionth time why she’d even bothered to start this business -- and start it with these particular men -- in the first place. “Tell me you really bugged the place!”

  “Maybe William’s slipping.” Adan finally spoke up as he pulled a pair of tailored pinstriped slacks from the trunk.

  Navy blue so set off his eyes, he thought, as he began to peel off the cumbersome jackboots.

  “William is not slipping, you reject from a narcissist version of Captain Bligh! And answer my question!”

  “The bugs are planted.” Raidon stepped forward to look over Shen’s shoulder at the fuming Shelby, wondering why a person who had as much sex as William and Shelby did would be suffering from so much tension and stress. Strange! “We got them all in place in record time.”

  “All of them?” That was surprising, Shelby thought. She stared at the two men, whose handsome but brainless faces beamed up at her from the computer.

  “All of them,” Raidon assured. “They’re not very secure in their security,” he added. “It took us no time
at all.”

  “I’m impressed, Angels.” Shelby smiled, calming down as she felt her blood pressure lower and the urge to kill fade. Maybe this assignment wouldn’t be so bad after all. “You bugged the whole entire building quickly.” Shelby was pleased. William would get laid that night. “Now look sharp. Nalu says he recognized some chemical compounds in the drug used on the deceased models. It looks to be herbal and is transferred by means either topical or oral. Be aware of what’s going on around you, and don’t drink anything you don’t purchase yourself pre-bottled. Delsin has a dossier on what Barika was able to discover about Edgar, and it isn’t the stuff of bedtime stories, Angels. Be safe. The Handler out.”

  Then the screen went black. In fact, it zipped out so fast that Shelby never noticed the concerned looks on the men’s faces. She was off to find William and get laid.

  “The building?” Shen asked as he looked around at his fellow sleuths.

  “I thought she meant the room!” Adan turned to face the door as someone knocked.

  “Are you ready yet? We’re ready to begin.” Macey’s shrill voice made them all shudder.

  “Fashion shoot!” the five crowed.

  Forgetting about the bugs, Shelby getting laid -- or lack thereof -- counter terrorism, and bugging the place, they hurried to scramble into clothing and makeup, Delsin and Shen helping where they could.

  In what seemed to be moments -- the mark of a true professional -- they were ready and proceeding to the exit in a timely fashion.

  No one gave the bugs a further thought as they got ready for important, top priority things… like the photo shoot!

  Chapter 5

  “They did it! They actually did it!”

  Shelby grinned up at William, who was prepping the bar for that night’s activities. He smiled back at her.

  Was it time to get laid yet?

  She eyed his tall muscular form, leaning with one hip against the bar as he cut up limes, and licked her lips.