by Vi Keeland
I stroll straight to the bar, ignoring the cameraman who starts speaking to me, and pull out the Macallan single malt. The bottle is less than half full. Dickhead. Gulping back two fingers worth, I slam the tumbler down.
“Bad day?” Joel Blick, the director, reaches over the bar and grabs a glass. He pours himself a double and tips the bottle to me asking if I want a refill. I slide my glass in his direction.
“You could say that.” I nod my glass to him before drinking.
“Well, maybe a little girl-on-girl catfight will cheer you up. There’s a storm brewing amongst the contestants tonight.”
“What’s it about?”
“The bachelor.” He finishes his drink. “What else?”
“Which girls?”
“All the camera’s favorites. Jessica, Mercedes and Kate. They were going at it pretty good. Got heated. But now, after the alcohol and bringing Flynn into the game … I wouldn’t be surprised if the early rumbling leads to a big explosion.”
“You have the argument in the can?”
“I do.” I stare at him and wait. “You want a replay?”
Who can resist watching a car accident waiting to happen?
***
“You think you’re better than everyone here?” Jessica seethes, her normally pretty face contorted.
“I don’t even know you. You’ve had something against me since the first night and I have no idea why,” Kate replies in a dismissive tone. It only serves to anger Jessica more that she doesn’t get a sufficient rile out of her.
“You walk around thinking Flynn is wrapped around your little pinky finger.”
I know it’s irrational. But just hearing Kate in an argument that has anything to do with Dickhead brings my already heated blood to a boil.
“I think you’ve had too much to drink,” Kate says, then pivots to walk away.
But Jessica grabs her shoulder. “I know the game you’re playing,” she warns.
Kate turns and glares at her. For a long moment, the two stare off—neither of them backing down. Then a familiar look on Kate’s face appears, and she calls her opponent’s bluff. “We’re all playing a game, aren’t we?” She dusts Jessica’s hand off her shoulder and walks away.
The camera fades out. “What was that all about?” I ask.
“Got me. But something’s up and Miles is busy trying to stoke the fire.”
***
The live feed monitor captures everything happening on the other side of the wall, even though they’re not filming at the moment. Kate looks beautiful in a curve-hugging dark blue cocktail dress. The expansive living room is filled with women who are unquestionably knockouts. Yet Kate stands out, even though her assets aren’t on full display. The crew is setting up lighting and she laughs and smiles with them. A short young intern is struggling to set up a high camera boom and Kate, in her five-inch heels, walks over and helps her. They spend five minutes talking afterward. The other women don’t even notice the crew, they’re too busy waiting for someone more important to walk in the room.
For a few minutes, I stand and watch her, the mounting stress that had been building all day slowly beginning to ebb.
The green live-filming light flashes, then he walks in the room.
Dickhead.
He makes a beeline for Kate, not even seeing the other women who are right in front of him. Tunnel vision. He wants her bad. Where have I seen the look on his face before? Oh, yeah. In the mirror.
He kisses her on the cheek. There’s a cocky smile on his face as his eyes roam all over her body. My fucking body. I’m not sure if it’s a good thing or a bad thing that I can’t rewind. I’m desperate to know what he just whispered to her, but if I knew, I’m not sure I’d be able to keep myself from marching in and punching him square in the face.
Eventually Jessica pulls him away, a phony plastic smile shining at Kate as she hooks her arm into Flynn and leads him outside onto the deck.
“Do you like my dress?” Jessica asks coyly, looking down. Her eyes lead his to follow hers down to the tits overflowing from her scarlet red gown.
Any thought of Kate seems to disappear quickly as Dickhead licks his lips and leans in to whisper something in her ear. Jessica takes his hands and wraps them around her waist, pushing what he’s salivating over against his chest. Kate should see this. Know just how loyal Dickhead is to her.
“Make Kate walk out on the balcony while those two are locked together,” I bark at Joel.
He ponders my suggestion for a second. “That’s not a bad idea. Might finally get the claws to come out on Kate.” Joel picks up his walkie-talkie and orders a stagehand to direct Kate to walk outside.
The timing couldn’t be more perfect. Arms wrapped around each other, Dickhead’s head is buried at Jessica’s ear, when Kate steps out onto the balcony. She stops, catching sight of them locked in an intimate embrace. Dickhead’s back is to her, but Jessica tags Kate the minute she walks out. And it only fuels her performance. The hands around his neck jump to his head and she ravels her fingers in his hair in what comes off as a familiar sexual touch.
The camera pans in close, catching Jessica smile at Kate smugly before planting her lips on Flynn’s neck. Kate bows her head and walks away gracefully. She doesn’t see Flynn pull out of Jessica’s claws and rebuff her attempt at a kiss a minute later.
“Great eye. Maybe you’ll find a career in reality TV with your brother after all,” Joel says as I stand, ready for a refill.
“Don’t count on it.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Kate
“You never asked me if I made it to the final four last night,” I say as Cooper presses his lips to the curve of my neck. He’d ravaged me the minute I walked in the door at midnight. Barely uttering more than four words before my back was pushed up against the wall, there was urgency to his need. I knew my being anywhere in the vicinity of Flynn was hard for him, so I didn’t question what prompted his appetite. Instead I yielded immediately, letting him feed off how quickly I’d come to submit to him.
“I didn’t have to ask.” Grabbing a fistful of my hair, he tugs, giving him better access to lick and nip his way up to my ear.
“Why is that?”
Cooper stops abruptly and draws his head back. His light green eyes are the same darkened green they were last night—there’s a wildness to them that is more than arousal. “I told you, I see the way he looks at you. Now can we not talk about him in my bed.”
I hadn’t thought about it that way. Bringing up another woman as I kissed him would most definitely have upset me. “Sorry.” I wrap my arms around his neck and pull his mouth to mine for a kiss. He obliges, kissing me with the same fierceness that I’d felt between us last night. An urgency that makes me feel like he needs to be reminded that I’m only his.
Our kiss breaks and I slip out from underneath him. “Where are you going?” he growls.
I lift to my feet and stand on the plush area rug next to the bed, waiting until our gaze locks. Then I sink to my knees.
“Christ, Kate,” he exhales deeply. “I won’t last. You have no idea what seeing that does to me.” He rakes his hands through his hair as he comes to stand before me.
With painstaking slowness and deliberation to his movement, he winds the full length of my hair tightly around his hand until his fist is against my scalp. “Look up at me while you take it.”
My lips slide over his thick crown and I suck gently, fluttering my tongue in a circle. I wrap my hand around the thick base of him and slide up and down the full length a few times as I increase the suction.
“More,” he groans. “Take more of it.” The strain in his voice heightens my own arousal and my body swells in response. Jesus. I might be able to come without him even touching me.
I swallow more of him, falling short of taking him in fully, but enough so that the tip of him hits my throat. I flatten my tongue and run it along the underside, tracing his pulse on the thick vein that throbs as he
grows even more hard and swollen.
“All of it. Take my cock down your throat,” he rasps, our gaze intense and locked. My eyes flutter closed as I open my throat as wide as I can and swallow the length of him down. My jaw strains wide and my breathing shallows as I struggle to catch my breath through my nose.
“Ah. Kate.” He swallows and makes a sound that borders on pain. “You on your knees … my cock down your throat …” his voice trails off.
Fueled by the effect I have on him, I can’t get enough. I feel greedy, my head furiously bobbing up and down as I suck hard, until I feel the change in him.
“Fuck … your mouth.” His hands fisting my hair still my head and then Cooper takes over. Ferociously thrusting into my mouth. Pumping hard and deep, each time hitting the back of my throat as I struggle to keep up with his primal need.
With a groan that roars, he wrenches from my mouth as his grip on my head loosens. “I’m going to come.” He attempts to dislodge and pull out, but I sink my nails into his ass and tug him back.
The words he mumbles as he releases into my mouth are inaudible. His body trembles as he empties into me and I struggle to swallow. It’s amazing how he can still remain semi hard even after such a powerful orgasm.
He stills, his breath finally slowing and then he reaches down and gently lifts me, cradling me in his arms as he returns to bed. There’s something so tender about the way he holds me only minutes after his actions were rough. Yet oddly, they both warm me the same.
***
The sight of Cooper Montgomery dressed in a crisp white shirt tucked into navy trousers that hang delectably from his narrow waist makes my mouth water.
“Stop looking at me like that.” He lifts the starched white collar and slides the tie around his neck, fastening a perfect knot with dexterous fingers.
“Like what?”
“Like you want to eat me?”
“I thought I already did.”
His eyebrows raise and he walks around the kitchen counter. I’m still only wearing his shirt from yesterday, even though he’s fully dressed. Grabbing my ass, he hauls me to the edge of my seat as he stands between my legs.
“This is a good height.” He pushes his bulge further between my legs. “Helen is going to call paramedics if I don’t show up to the office soon. It’s not like me to cancel a meeting.”
“Are you saying I’m a bad influence?” I pout.
“I’m saying you’re impossible to walk away from.” He tugs at my shirt, exposing my shoulder, and plants a wet kiss. “What are your plans for today?”
“I have to go to wardrobe to try on things. They want everything done before we get our filming break.”
His jaw flexes, but he nods.
He’s still never asked for confirmation that Flynn picked me to advance to the final four. We’re not in bed anymore, so I broach the subject again. “You don’t seem surprised I need clothes for the show.” I catch his gaze.
He looks away for a second, but it’s enough to tell me he already knew for sure I was picked. “How did you know? And don’t tell me from the way Flynn looks at me.”
His face hardens. “Can you not say his name?”
I’m not letting him change the subject this time. He promised he wouldn’t watch the DVDs and I’m curious how he already knew. “How did you know Dickhead picked me for the final four?” I say.
He sighs and then wraps his hands around my waist. He thinks I’ll storm off once he tells me. I brace myself for his response.
“I went to the taping last night.”
My eyes bulge. “You promised you wouldn’t watch it.”
“I promised I wouldn’t watch the dailies. I never said I wouldn’t watch the live taping.”
“That’s splitting hairs.” I squint. “And you know it.”
He exhales a frustrated breath. “Can we pretend the show doesn’t exist for the next week? You’re off for a week and I want you all to myself. No talk of the show, Dickhead or my brother. I just want you and me.”
I swallow hard. “Okay. I’ll go to wardrobe and then no talking about the show for the entire week-long hiatus.”
“Thank you.” He plants a chaste kiss on my lips, fishes into his pocket and hands me a set of keys. “Black Mercedes parked next to the Porsche. Don’t worry about anyone recognizing it at the studio. It’s never made it there yet. Keys to the apartment are on there too. I’ll meet you back here at five.”
“Bossy,” I mutter, taking the key ring.
He shakes his head and grins, kissing me one last time before taking off. “I tell you what, I’ll let you pick what we do tonight to show you how amicable I can be.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Cooper
Even two hours late to the office, I get more accomplished in a half day than I have in weeks. Helen delivers lunch along with the jewel case I’m usually tapping my finger waiting for.
“Throw the DVD in the shredder.”
“Pardon?” Helen is confused at my sudden change of heart.
“I’m swearing off reality TV for a week. I want that thing out of my sight.”
“Whatever you say.”
I sit through three meetings, have two telephone conferences and sign a half dozen contracts that have been sitting on my desk waiting for my attention for more than a week.
Mid afternoon my phone chimes, indicating a new text. A rarity for me. I prefer in-person conversations. Yet another thing I learned from my father. I use my phone to read the news and make calls. But seeing Kate’s name on the screen makes me smile.
What’s your favorite color?
Blue.
I expect more to come, but it doesn’t.
Why?
Just asking.
Just randomly decided to ask my favorite color in the middle of the day?
Maybe.
Where are you?
Lingerie store
Then can I change my answer?
LOL. Sure.
Black. Lace. Thong. Garters.
That’s more than a color.
Buy it or now I’ll have to stop on the way home.
Bossy.
Maybe texting isn’t so bad after all.
***
I clear as much of my calendar as I can, rescheduling the meetings that can’t be changed from in-person to telephone conferences. The corporate travel department has everything I need on my desk by four thirty and I’m out the door ready, even though I still haven’t asked her yet.
I’m anxious to get home. Women never frequented my apartment, and I certainly never offered anyone a key. Yet strangely, it didn’t seem like a monumental occasion to hand over the keys to everything I owned. It seemed … normal.
Kate’s in a floor-length silk robe when I enter. I head straight for her, my fingers going straight for the dangling belt tie. She stops my hands. “What are you doing?”
“I want to see what’s underneath here.”
“No ‘Honey, how was your day even?’”
“How was your day?” I say, uninterested, as I tug crudely at the belt, ignoring her hands trying to stop mine. Her robe opens, revealing a sight I haven’t been able to stop thinking about all day. Only, the actual vision is even better than the one I’d conjured up in my mind.
“Take off the robe.”
She looks up, sees my face, and lets it slip gently from her shoulders. It pools at her stiletto-clad feet. She’s wearing a black lace corset, tied together snuggly by a half dozen black silk bows. A present I can’t wait to unwrap.
“Turn around.” I want to see how well she followed my directions.
Slowly, she pivots on the ball of her foot and turns. Pale flesh, soft skin covering round hard globes, only a sliver of fabric runs up her sexy ass. Garters hold up sheer stockings. My request, followed to a tee.
I’m instantly hard, my hands groping her breasts as I push up against her ass from behind. “I’m going to fuck you leaning over the footboard. None of it comes off. Not even t
he shoes.” I growl into her ear, allowing my warm breath to linger before I kiss down her neck.
“You like it?” she whispers.
“What do you think?” I grind my erection further into her ass.
“I’m glad.” She turns in my arms. “But hold that thought. You told me I could decide what we do tonight. I want to take you somewhere first.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Kate
He’s still scowling ten minutes into our drive. “Are you going to pout all night?” I ask.
“No. But I’m going to make you pay for that little stunt later when we get back home.” He flashes me a sinful grin and I cross my legs to quell the ache his threat incites.
“I did exactly as you instructed.”
“You gave me a present, but didn’t let me unwrap it.”
“Good things come to those who wait.” I smile. “Get off at the next exit.”
“I’m going to get off at the next exit and pull you over my knee, you keep playing with me like that.”
“I might like that.”
“Kate …” he warns.
“What? I promise I’ll make it up to you later.”
“I promise you won’t be able to walk when I’m done with you tonight.”
Maybe it wasn’t such a great idea to poke a lion and then take him where we’re headed.
“Left on Alan Street.”
“Where are we going?”
“Umm …” Suddenly I question my choice of destinations for the evening. “To my mother’s house.” He glances to me, then back at the road, then back to me.
“You’re not kidding, are you?”
“Nope.”
I watch his face, curious at the reaction I’ll get. Especially considering I just left him sexually frustrated. At first, his brows knit together and he’s not sure what to make of it. Then he reaches over and takes my hand. And for the first time since the accident and my Dad’s death, I feel like I’m not in this alone anymore.