Fool for Love

by Mel Curtis

  “Ladies, what would you like to discover tonight?” He pitched his voice deeply across the water, belatedly wondering again about the identity of the younger woman in the spa. “It’s in your power to achieve anything you want.”

  “Anything,” Winnie echoed. “God, yes.”

  How had the rest of his dad’s spiel gone? Oh, yeah. “Focus on the feeling we’re searching for tonight, focus on one point in your body. All your good tension goes to that part of your body.”

  “Feel the push and pull of attraction,” Maddy prompted.

  She’d gotten his father’s DVD on the set of a porno. She’d filmed porn. He was hard just imagining her watching strangers get it on.

  “Feel the push and pull of attraction, ladies.” And then Blue improvised. “Feeling is about taking. I give you permission to take whatever the water has to give. To let go.” Was this how Senge made his living? Suddenly Blue didn’t want the camera on. He half turned to Maddy. “Shut that off.”

  “Not on your life,” Maddy whispered back. “This is Emmy material.”

  “Blackie! I’ll double your monthly retainer if you can set Eleanor free.”

  “Me, too,” Mary piped up.

  Nine months. One hundred thousand dollars. One tenth of the sales quota he needed to meet to earn his inheritance. A man had to take what he could get when he could get it.

  Maddy angled the camera lens toward him.

  Without waiting for her to prompt him, Blue stepped into the light around the spa. “All right, ladies. Time to free your mind and get serious. The water is your lover…Your lover is at your command, obeying your will, freeing up twisted chakras.” Thank you for the vocabulary, Senge. “His caress is encompassing, and yet it is that one sensitive nub where his caress is most firm.”

  Yes, it was cheesy. If this was going to become a regular offering, he needed to read some romance novels for inspiration.

  The bobbing seemed to have settled into a regular rhythm in the water. The moaning built.

  Blue half turned away from the women so he could see Maddy. She’d moved to the edge of the shadows. He directed his words to her. Made love to Maddy with his voice. “Your hands guide your lover’s lips to the pulse point beneath your ear. He nips. He tastes.” How he wanted to taste Maddy. “Your hands guide your lover lower to the sensitive flesh at your breasts. He pinches and rolls your tips into tight buds.”

  Maddy shifted her weight and shifted her grip on her camera. He was turning her on.

  She wasn’t like the women he usually dated. She was softer, more giving, more accepting. More authentic. She didn’t wear a brand of shoes because they were in fashion. Or go to a certain restaurant because she wanted to be seen.

  He wanted to know what obligations made her worry. He wanted to know what she’d put up as collateral at the pawn shop for her camera.

  He wanted to kiss her again. He wanted her to beg him to kiss her again. He wanted to sink into her and feel that he was authentic, no longer a man bluffing his way through a job at his father’s company.

  He picked up the pace. “And yet your lover is always touching you in a more important place. Lower…Steady…Urgent…Insistent. He’s at the threshold of sliding inside…but not yet...Not yet…Not until you’re ready.”

  The spa’s water churned, mixing with the moans of its occupants. On and on, Blue made verbal love to Maddy, talking as if his hands were on her body, his lips on her skin, his rhythm urging her closer to release.

  The women in the spa rode in the wake of his seduction, giving him an odd sense of power, filling him with an even odder sense of commitment. These were his women and he wouldn’t let Senge belittle their sexual power.

  “Feel the stroke of your lover…Feel his breath in your ear, telling you now…Now! Reach for it. Breathe through the tension. Tighten…Clench…Climax…Now!”

  One by one the women collapsed in the spa, even the blonde who wouldn’t show her face.

  Grinning, Blue stepped closer to Maddy, wanting to kiss her to completion.

  “Cramp,” Mary moaned.

  And then they all dissolved into laughter. The women gravitated toward the center of the spa, hugging each other.

  Maddy remained in the shadows, clutching her camera instead of him.

  “I told you it would work if we just got the right man.” Winnie rose out of the water with a confident shimmy. “I feel so alive.”

  And then the blonde turned her head.

  It was Jack Gordon’s wife.

  Chapter 18

  Maddy had very nearly orgasmed without so much as a touch from Blue or a water jet. The man had a dangerous power. And despite him freeing Winnie and her friends, Maddy knew he’d been directing his sexual power toward her.

  Maddy needed to go home and use her shower nozzle or her vibrator. Alone.

  And yet a part of her kept whispering: remind him of his promise.

  She was owed a Freedom Transformation. A one-on-one, personal session with a sex god.

  She shouldn’t collect. She wouldn’t collect.

  But she hadn’t left Winnie’s kitchen.

  Winnie had switched out her body hugging robe for a thick terry cloth one, but retained her silver turban. “He was phenomenal. Could you feel him through the lens?”

  “Uh, yes.” An understatement. His voice. So intimate. As if he’d been seducing her in the privacy of a bedroom, not some movie star’s backyard from ten feet away.

  “He’s just like his father.” Winnie ran her hands down her rib cage. “When Dooley coached me, I felt as if any dream was within reach.”

  Her comment, so like the Avengers’, gave Maddy pause. What was it about Blue that made his lovers feel invincible?

  Winnie pirouetted. “I’ve waited months for Blackie to come around. It was worth the wait.”

  A diminutive, ancient woman with limp blue hair tugged on Maddy’s shirt sleeve. “Can I see what you filmed?”

  “I’m sorry. I just put the camera away.”

  “I haven’t let go like that since 1992 when Norman Plessman and I were in the same rehab hospital.” She leaned conspiratorially close. “He’d fallen, but he could still get it up.”

  Winnie glowed. “I told you Norman wasn’t your last, Mama.”

  “I sure would appreciate a gander at myself,” said the other blue haired woman. “Hard to believe we came without a man’s touch. Maybe I do need one of those vibrators. Where’d Blackie go? I’ll ask him what he recommends.”

  Blue was nowhere in sight. Neither was the slender blonde. Maddy didn’t want to leave before talking to him – not to ask for what she was owed, but to tell him nice job.

  “Can we see?” Winnie smiled. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen myself on camera.”

  Maddy gave in. “I’m not sure you can make it out on the playback screen. It’s only a few inches wide.”

  “You can hook it up to my kitchen TV.” Winnie gestured to a flat screen mounted on the far wall.

  “Let me get my bifocals,” Winnie’s mother said.

  A few minutes later the three women were seated on bar stools, drinking wine and cheering themselves on.

  “Look at that!” Winnie’s laugh was husky. “You got some moves, Eleanor.”

  “Winnie has too much air time,” Eleanor said. “Next time I want to be in front.”

  “Can I have a copy?” Mary put a delicate hand over Maddy’s. “I want to show the ladies at the actor’s home how it’s done.”

  Eleanor grinned. “My granddaughter knows how to post it to YouTube.”

  Maddy wished she could film their glowing faces. This was the power of the Rules of Attraction. This was Dooley’s legacy brought to life. These women were more alive than most celebrities a third their age.

  Maddy wished Blue were there to hear their praise. She left the women to replay the video and wandered around the house looking for him. She shouldn’t have been surprised to find him outside with the blonde, who was just his type.
<
br />   And probably an Avenger.

  “Vivian, wait.” Blue hurried out to the shadowy driveway.

  Vivian Gordon’s long blond hair was slicked back and soaking into the back of her red T-shirt. She had the door of her Mercedes coupe open before Blue reached her.

  “Wait.” He grabbed the door. “I’m Blue Rule. We met at a Flash game a few months ago.”

  “I know who you are. I got your messages.” She stared at her toenails. Her bikini top triangles were soaking through the front of her T-shirt.

  And yet Blue was unaffected. It was Maddy he wanted. Insightful, infuriating, Queen of the Comeback, Maddy. And Maddy he’d get when he was done here. The rest of it – the ego boost, the power surge, his bruised principles – he’d deal with his feelings after he’d dealt with his desire for Maddy. “Why did you come tonight? Those women are decades older than you are.”

  “My Aunt Winnie thought the experience would do me good. But I think I’m scarred for life.”

  Suddenly, Blue felt as if they’d just had no-names-sex in a club bathroom stall. “I…uh…I know this is going to sound weird, but if you ever need someone to talk to, about the divorce or anything – ”

  “Divorce? Who said anything about a…” Vivian pinned him with sharp green eyes. “Did Jack tell you he was divorcing me?”

  Shit. He felt like slime. “Well…uh…”

  “I’ll kill him.”

  “Let’s not get carried away.”

  “My husband hired you people to get my rocks off and my aunt was in on it. Why shouldn’t I get carried away?” Vivian jumped behind the wheel, pulling the door closed so fast she almost caught Blue’s fingers.

  “It’s not like that,” Blue protested, but she was gone.

  He went inside and retrieved Mr. Jiggles, who was so exhausted, he didn’t so much as growl when Blue put him in his messenger bag carrier. The older ladies were in the kitchen, laughing and joking with each other. Their joie de vivre was contagious and would have made him smile if only one person wasn’t missing. “Where’s Maddy?”

  Winnie beamed at him, looking less carnivorous than usual. “Maddy just left.”

  “Can we do that again next week, Blackie?” Mary tucked a one hundred dollar bill in Blue’s pants pocket, like he was a stripper.

  The tawdriness of what he’d done washed over Blue in a wave of revulsion that had him gasping like a fish washed ashore. This was why he didn’t want to follow in his father’s footsteps. Dooley Rule had no moral boundaries. At least when Blue had sex with a woman, he called it sex, not a Freedom Transformation. There was nothing freeing about what he’d done.

  Winnie gasped dramatically. “Mama! That was inappropriate. Apologize.”

  “Why?” Mary harrumphed. “Tipping is de rigueur. And he earned it.”

  Taking slow, deep breaths, Blue gripped the white granite island countertop. Everything in Winnie’s house was clean, yet Blue felt dirty.

  “Give her back the money,” Winnie commanded.

  Blue set the bill on the counter and mumbled his goodbyes.

  He sat in the Cayenne, blasting the air conditioner until both he and Mr. J had snapped out of their funk. He should have called Maddy and tried enticing her into his bed, but that felt sleazy, too. In the end, he drove home alone.

  Vivian drove straight to the house she used to share with her husband, her veins burning with adrenaline.

  So this was what Jack meant about wanting her to date. How dare he pay to make sure she was satisfied by someone else? Who cares if that someone never touched her?

  It was humiliating. Beyond humiliating when she considered his dating Kaya Anika. That bitch was one of the most hated Amazing Race contestants ever. Just the idea of her power-grubbing hands on Jack made Viv want to punch someone.

  She used her key and called out his name, but he didn’t answer, even though his car was in the garage. She finally found him in the pool swimming laps. The porch lights lit up the backyard like Broadway.

  You’re such an ass.” Vivian stood at the edge of the pool, arms crossed, legs spread, ready for battle.

  “What is it now?” Jack was tan and gorgeous with his hair slicked back. He’d intimidated her when they first met, but had slowly revealed that he was just like any other human being – vulnerable, wanting love. And then something else had stolen his heart – his NBA team. She hated the Flash.

  “Blue Rule and…and…”

  Jack pulled himself out of the water. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on his body. He should have been a professional athlete the way he kept himself up.

  “What, Vivian?” He sounded tired.

  “If you thought I needed an orgasm, why didn’t you just offer yourself up?”

  Jack paused a moment. “Are you saying that Blue Rule made you come?” He scowled at her wet clothes.

  She looked, too. Her T-shirt and shorts were wet where her bikini was. Her nipples were taut from the cold air conditioner of her car, the cool breeze of the night, and seeing Jack.

  “It wasn’t good enough,” she admitted. “With Blue.” No one could ever be good enough, because she only loved Jack.

  He swore. He was so close to her, so nearly naked.

  Impulsively, Vivian reached out and fondled him through his wet trunks.

  He was firm, and then suddenly hard. His voice a deep rumble. “Do you remember that night in San Tropez, Viv?”

  San Tropez. They’d been so happy there. Why would he mention it? “The private beach?” Taking a chance on what she suspected would only be a one night reunion, Vivian peeled off her T-shirt and came closer, pressing her hand over him again. He might reject her. Or he might make love to her and then send her away. Both scenarios could break her.

  But what if he didn’t send her away? San Tropez. It would be worth it if she could mend the void between them. And Jack would always be worth the risk. She’d just never had the guts to throw herself at him before.

  “Viv – ”

  She shushed him. Now was not the time for talk. Viv reached back and loosened the ties of her bikini, tossing it over her head as well.

  Maybe jealousy was the key she’d been missing all these months. Jack was a very possessive man. Honorable, driven, shrewd, but possessive of his things.

  “Blue – ”

  “Didn’t touch me like you do.” She slid her hands underneath Jack’s waistband, slid his trunks to the deck so that she was staring at his erection. It was natural to take him into her mouth, to pick up a rhythm she knew he couldn’t resist. And when he came hard and fast between her lips, she knew she’d gained ground.

  He dragged her up, claiming one of her breasts with his mouth, bending her backwards until she thought she might have an answering explosion of her own. But before she came undone, he swept her off her feet and onto the plush cushions of a chaise lounge.

  He kissed her, claiming her mouth like a gluttonous man devours forbidden fruit – quickly, eagerly. But then he stopped.

  No!

  He drew back and looked at her face, brushing a lock of hair from her eyes. “It’s you.”

  Afraid he’d remember he didn’t love her anymore, she reached between them. Jack was hard again. She pulled aside the crotch of her bathing suit bottoms and guided him home. He filled her, not just her womb, but her heart. They were meant to be like this.

  His gaze claimed hers. His hips pounded against hers. They came together in a frenzied rush.

  He collapsed on top of her, his weight so familiar, she wanted to cry.

  Instead, she hardened her heart. She should have used sex as a weapon months ago.

  “Again,” she urged him in a sultry whisper. “Or are you too old?” He hated to be taunted.

  He rolled onto his side, stroking her hair. “Kiss me.”

  She poured her heart and longing into a marathon of kisses. With her mouth, her teeth, her tongue, she claimed him as hers. Maybe he wouldn’t realize it tonight. Maybe he wouldn’t realize it tomorrow. But there was
always someday.

  They made love two more times before Vivian left him dozing on their lawn furniture. As she drove to her parents’ home in the wee hours of the morning, she made plans that included making her husband jealous enough and hot enough to realize he still loved her.

  It was the first time she felt hope in months.

  Chapter 19

  L.A. Happenings by Lyle Lincoln

  …Has anyone noticed a wealth of bad boys around town? Tate Johnson (that oh-so-tattooed Survivor), Greg Bingham (wasn’t his last movie ten years ago?), Mick Rizzo (a regular on that testosterone laden Assy show) and Darren Bell (from the upstart L.A. Flash) were all seen picking up willing women at Tingle. Speaking of yummy bad boys…

  …File this under: Wish I was There. Blue Rule was the only man at a Wicked Tantric private session with many, many women. That Senge Tenzing is a genius. Satisfaction guaranteed.

  “Vera, come look at this.” Maddy had hardly slept at all last night. She’d vacillated between admiration for Blue for his success with the women and annoyance that she’d kissed him, opening the door to an enjoyable, but ill-timed seduction.

  How could she use any of the Freedom Transformation film when Blue practically had his back to the women in the spa? He’d been talking to the camera. To Maddy.

  Vera shoved her laptop into her briefcase. “I’m going to be late for work if I look at one more scene of octogenarians getting their groove on.”

  “It’s not the hot tub, it’s Blue.” Maddy cued up the scene, but before she could press play, Vera spun Maddy’s computer chair around so they were facing each other.

  “Girl friend, this is your intervention. You’re talking about Blue Rule as if he’s some kind of god. And I’m here to tell you, he’s not. He’s slept with just about everybody in Hollywood and – pay attention here – he’s pissed off just about every woman he’s slept with.”

  Maddy scoffed, more for Vera’s benefit. She hadn’t told her about kissing Blue.