Britt pulled into the hotel parking lot, glanced over at the magazine. Dread gnawed at her gut. So much for the condo on the beach. She had a feeling she’d be living in a cardboard box on the street after all was said and done.
She opened the magazine, thumbed through the pages, fingers trembling…and sobbed at what met her gaze between the crisp pages.
* * * * *
“How could you do this to me?” Britt’s incredulous tone echoed off the walls. She stood right on the very spot where Lexi had engineered several of the poses that now had Britt’s career teetering on disaster. It sickened her. It made her wonder what had ever gotten into her to chance such a foolish thing.
Lexi presented her back to Britt. She marched to the dormer window, leaned against the frame and stared down at the dark alleyway. She’d rented the studio attic apartment in an elderly lady’s Victorian home on a quiet street in downtown Palmetto Cove. Except for a rumpled, queen-sized brass bed near the window, most of the cluttered, one-room space housed all her secondhand camera equipment. Lexi drank, ate and breathed photography, and it seemed the obsession had finally cost her.
“I-I told you. I didn’t.” Lexi’s shoulders slumped. She kept her back to Britt.
Britt struggled to keep her temper in check. She could tell by the few words and short-sentence replies that Lexi rode one of her emotional roller coasters. When Lexi didn’t talk and grunted responses instead, something was wrong. In this case, Britt knew what troubled her. She’d been caught. In turn, Britt resisted the urge to strangle that delicate neck.
“Are we going to go there again?” Britt reined in the shriek that threatened to erupt from her throat. “How else could they have gotten there? You were the only one in possession of the film. Then I took the supposed only developed photos and burned them. But now they’re right where you wanted them. You made it all too obvious how much you wanted the money. And to top it off, you won the contest.”
Lexi snorted and lifted a slim shoulder. “Won it? I wish,” she muttered. In the black pajama bottoms splattered with pink hearts and the bright-pink spaghetti-strapped shirt, she looked way more comfortable than her body language and attitude portrayed.
With a sigh, Britt plopped down onto the worn loveseat that faced a small TV perched on wooden crates. She started to prop her feet on the rickety coffee table, but it was littered with eclectic magazines, empty Coke cans and a dried-up TV dinner.
“Lexi, would you quit with the denial? Damn it, please come over here and sit with me. We have things to discuss.”
Lexi turned back, her toned arms folded across her abdomen. The glow from a streetlight outlined her small frame through the glass. Tears glittered in her eyes. “What else can I say? I told you I didn’t send the freaking photos into the magazine. You keep throwing it back in my face. Now here we are, and it’s not gonna do me one fucking bit of good to talk about it anymore. All I can say is, I don’t know.” Her gaze flitted down, back up. “I don’t know how they got there, I swear.”
Britt couldn’t take it anymore. She wanted Lexi to own up to the truth so they could work on patching things up. Lexi’s denial of the issue made Britt’s frustration and anger rise to the surface. She wanted a confession. She wanted the truth. But now it was apparent she wasn’t going to get it. Lexi intended to leave Britt to pick up the pieces of Britt’s life that Lexi had been responsible for shattering. Yes, Britt would take responsibility for letting Lexi talk her in to the shoot in the first place, but Britt had changed her mind once the photos were developed, and had had every right to do so.
Lexi’s betrayal and stubbornness to accept her part in this made Britt’s whole body tremble. She ground her teeth together and breathed through them in short gasps that made her dizzy with rage. She shot to her feet.
“Why do you keep lying to me? Why? I thought we were friends. I thought we would be for life. Now look what you’ve done,” she shrieked, her arms flailing. “I’ve got Doris breathing down my back and practically voiding our contract. Victoria’s is demanding some sort of proof that it isn’t me, which you and I both know it is. The magazine is on sleazy newsstands all over the country, and it’s too late to do a damn thing about it. Lexi, do you realize what you’ve done just because you had to have that twenty-five grand? You’ve ruined my career. And you’ve ruined a friendship,” she choked out, the tears now streaming down her cheeks. Out of it all, losing Lexi’s friendship had to be the worst part. She had been like a sister.
But no more.
Britt kicked a discarded tennis shoe out of the way and started for the door.
“No… Please, Britty, I didn’t—”
“Shut up, Lexi.” She yanked open the door.
“Britt. No, p-please don’t leave.” Lexi raced across the room, dodging all her equipment. She gripped Britt’s arm and leaned back so Britt couldn’t leave. Lexi sniffled. “Please, I swear, you’ve got to believe it wasn’t me.”
Her heart hurt, but Britt used a firm, almost cold tone. “Exactly what I wish I could say about the person in the photos. But it is what it is. Me. At least I’ll be admitting it to Doris and accepting the consequences of my stupid actions. It would be a nice start if you could do the same.” She ripped her arm from Lexi’s quivering hand. “But I see we’re never going to get anywhere with that, are we?”
Lexi stood there sobbing, which meant Britt had her answer.
“Okay, well let me tell you one last thing. You can keep every damn dollar of the contest money. Because no amount of money can make up for all the embarrassment and pain you’ve caused me.”
Lexi stifled an explosive sob.
Britt went on, determined to stand her ground. “I don’t want to see one filthy penny. Do you understand me?”
Lexi nodded. “Perfectly.”
Ah, finally a morsel of a confession. But it was all she’d be getting, she knew that now. She could stay here until dawn, but Lexi wouldn’t budge. She’d continue to insist she hadn’t submitted the photos to the contest. They’d go round and round, so why stay?
“Goodbye, Lexi, for good. I hope you enjoy your newfound riches.”
“No. No, I swear I—”
It killed her to turn, to walk out that door and pull it shut behind her, but she did what she had to do. She closed a chapter of her life and knew the pain of death, of saying farewell to a sister now dead to her.
The howling cry on the other side of the door faded as Britt stormed out of the house.
Chapter Twelve
“Damn it, I’m coming,” Diego called out. Some impatient lunatic banged on his door. Twirling around in his office chair, he tore himself away from the shop books he’d been balancing. He got to his feet, moved through the living room and glanced at the digital clock on the stereo as he passed. Almost midnight. At this hour, it could only be one person making such a racket. Carolyn.
Edgy now, he tried to imagine what insults and demands she’d hurl this time around, but he forced away those gloomy thoughts as soon as they surfaced. No, the last thing he wanted on a weeknight at midnight was to try to imagine what grief Carolyn would be bringing next. Certain he was doomed anyway, he savored his last few moments of peace and braced himself for the insults and drama.
He unlatched the door, sighed and drew it open. His heart stopped. “Britt?”
She stood on his front porch hugging herself and shivering, though the warm air didn’t hold even a hint of a cool breeze. The light from inside the house spilled across her gorgeous face marred by red-rimmed, puffy eyes. Her cheeks were sun-tinged, her hair hanging loose down her back with tendrils framing her face.
Diego’s pulse picked up speed, shooting into a gallop. His gaze scanned her from head to shoes, and he thought he’d never seen a sexier woman in all his life. She wore a tight little logo t-shirt that accentuated her breasts and tiny denim shorts that were so snug, he marveled at how she’d poured herself into them. She’d gotten some sun, and her long legs flowed tan and lean before taper
ing into socks and Nike sneakers. His heart did a trip and stutter at the pleasant surprise of seeing her, but he caught a look of devastation in her eyes that alarmed him.
“Babe, what’s wrong?”
“C-can I come in?”
He blinked, realizing he’d been so stunned at her presence that he hadn’t thought to invite her in. “You kidding? Of course you can come in.”
He delighted in the shock that flashed in her eyes when he leaned out, snatched her hand and yanked her into his arms.
“Diego…” She snuggled against him on a moan. Her warm, pliant flesh melted into his body. “Oh, Diego.”
Britt’s inherent scent filled his nostrils. He groaned and clutched her tight until her toes came off the threshold. “Don’t you ever do that again.”
“Do what?” Her voice sounded muffled and husky against his chest, almost sad.
“Leave town for three days without answering your damn phone. Jesus Christ, that made me crazy.” He nuzzled her warm neck, nibbled on her sweet ear, delighted when she shivered. He buried his nose in her thick hair, sifted his fingers through it, inhaled its clean fragrance.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her arms sliding up to wrap around his neck. “Things were kind of weird between us a few nights ago. I needed time to think. I needed some space is all.”
“It’s okay, I understand.” He molded her body to his and dragged his lips back and forth over hers, devouring her sweet flavor. “But I missed you so damn much.”
She closed her mouth over his, grinding her pussy against his cock. The emboldened move staggered him. His loins responded in a snap, the blood rushing in, making him ache to fill her. He thought he’d never gotten so hard so fast before now.
“Mm, I missed you too,” she said before darting her tongue into his mouth. He tasted the remnants of wine. It made him stiffen as if cold water had been doused on his libido. His heart slammed against his breastbone, not with passion but with sudden disquiet.
He drew back, holding her away from him. “How did you get here?”
Her eyes fluttered open, and if it weren’t for the immediate concern he held, he’d have been driven to his knees by the emerald pools. “What?”
“I said, how did you get here? Did you drive?”
“Uh, no. I hailed a cab at the airport, stopped off at my condo to leave my bags, then had him drop me off here. Why?”
Get a hold of yourself, Diego. “Nothing. Nothing.” He blew out a breath. “Sorry, just curious. But you’re staying the night here whether you like it or not, you know. I’ll take you home later…in the morning.”
She grinned, and the way it lit up her face and chased away the sadness made his insides melt. “Um, we’ll see about that.”
“We’ll see all right.” He pulled her back into his arms and stroked her spine. “Do you know how much I worried, how nuts you made me by leaving me no way to contact you?”
“Aw, poor baby.” She peered up at him and stuck out her bottom lip. “Sorry about that.”
“And damn that Lexi. She wouldn’t—”
Britt’s body tensed. “I don’t want to discuss Lexi.”
He drew her back and cupped her jaw in his hands. The change had been instantaneous. Her eyes had gone from twinkling gems to dull pain. Ever since he’d opened the door, her eyes had been like two chameleons changing from moment to moment with her strange mood. Something had happened in her absence, and he had a hunch he knew what it might be.
His stomach clenched. “Why not?”
One lone tear beaded in her lashes. It tore his heart into pieces.
She sniffled. “Because she… Oh, never mind.” Britt shoved away from him and crossed to the kitchen. “I need a drink, a glass of wine or something.” She pulled open the refrigerator and peered in. He loved watching her help herself to his space, seeing her move around in his home.
“Hold on.” Diego shut and locked the door, then strolled to the dining room. “I keep it in here.” He pulled out two long-stemmed glasses and a bottle of Merlot from a side cabinet.
“I…okay, thanks.” She pushed the door shut and turned to lean against the refrigerator, her gaze fixed on the window above the sink.
He poured wine, watching her perfect profile flicker with emotions, recalling how he’d taken her with brutal force against that very appliance. Despite all the self-disgust that had burned his conscience over the last few days, his cock tingled. Damn, but he’d do it again in a second if she gave any indication of wanting it that way.
“Here.” He came into the kitchen and pressed the glass in her hand. “Drink this, and then you’re going to relax and tell me what’s got that pretty little forehead of yours wrinkling.”
She sipped, eyeing him over the rim. “Relax? Well in that case, I’ll need the whole bottle. And the bedroom.” Raising her chin as if daring him to defy her, she murmured, “I want to make love in that big four-poster bed of yours.”
He choked on his wine. Something had happened, something that had jarred her inhibitions even looser than at the rally, or since then. “I uh… You’re not getting any arguments from me.”
“I need you, Diego.” She set the glass on the island without taking her eyes from his. Her warm, honeyed voice teased his cock. “I need you to do that again.”
“To do…to do what?”
“Ravish me. Take control.” Contrary to her request, she pulled his glass from his hands and set the drink aside. Backing him into the island, her hands branding his chest through his t-shirt, she purred, “I want you to tie me up. I need to feel the control of it, of turning you into that animal again. And the abandonment of you fucking me, forcing me to submit to your magic—oh god, there’s nothing more addictive than your magic.”
He gulped. “I’ll be needing just a minute to clear the shock from my brain.”
She drew her shirt over her head, popped off her bra. Relieved from their restraints, her breasts bounced, settling like two luscious half-melons on her chest. His mouth watered, his palms itched to touch.
“That had to be the fastest damn minute of my life.” Diego scooped her up and buried his face between her breasts.
Britt arced her head back and hissed, her arms wrapping around his head. “Mmm, yes.”
“Shit, I missed you.” He lapped over a hardened nipple, eliciting a gasp from her. She tasted of salt and sweetness. Even as he suckled, his eyes searched for some place to perch her so he could do just as she asked.
Ravish.
I want you to tie me up. I want to make love in that big four-poster bed of yours.
Her words moved through his thoughts in a sexy serenade, so enticing. She asked to be brought to life, like in one of the exact photo poses. To have her offer herself to him in that way, to have reality mirror that still snapshot, it had to be more temptation than he could bear. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t reenact them anymore, but it wasn’t as if he’d suggested it. She asked for it that way—begged for it. What could it hurt to give her what she desired?
He wanted her this second. He sized up the island and the countertop between the sink and stovetop while the blood pounded in his loins. There was always the wood floor. It wouldn’t take either of them long to come, the same as when he’d taken her against the fridge.
No, asshole, control that impatience and take her to your bed just as she requested. Just like she deserves.
Marveling at his own discipline, he hitched her up and stumbled through the living room, down the hall and into his bedroom. He lowered her to the comforter, the muted light filtering down the hall to spill over her.
“Take off all your clothes,” he ordered, fumbling in the nightstand drawer. He drew out two candles and some matches. His hand shook as he lit first one candle, then the next. Struggling to stifle the urge to rush, he longed to draw it out at the same time, almost as if to torture himself.
His gaze did a slow scan of the room for something to use to secure her to the bed. He stalked to the walk-
in closet, flipped on the light, rummaged through some shelves. Suppressing a sigh of relief, he found two neckties he’d purchased for various friends’ weddings, the belt to his robe he never wore and several handkerchiefs he’d used as do-rags or headbands. He knotted the ends together to give it enough length to reach her wrist or ankle from the bedpost.
Damn, his full erection oozed with pre-cum inside his jeans. It ached like hell.
When he emerged from the closet, he stopped in his tracks, his eyes devouring her slim body. She lounged nude on her side atop his rumpled bed, golden candlelight alternating shadows and flickers of yellow over her flawless skin. Her eyes radiated her desire, her lips glistening as if she’d licked them with impatient hunger. Britt propped her head on a fist, her leg bent to hide her pussy from his view. She rubbed her fingers, slow and alluring, up and down her slit, as if it ached and the move soothed her. The long locks of her hair fanned out behind her on the pillow, one strand swooping over her shoulder to conceal a nipple.
Click-click.
In that one snapshot moment, he thought she looked every bit the seductive siren committed to stealing his heart.
“Son of a bitch.” He eyed the swell of breasts, the pink peaks, the roundness of the hip and curve of waist. His hands fisted in the ties, working up the tension to an unbearable plateau.
“Now you take off your clothes,” she purred, her eyes raking him.
He tossed the ties in a pile on the bed and disrobed.
“Mmmm.” Her tongue flicked out, swept her upper lip while the glitter in her eyes zoned in on his cock. He could swear the wetness of it reached across the space to caress him, and it sent an almost painful tingle through his penis. “Your cock looks scrumptious enough to eat.”
“Uh-uh. You do that it’ll all be over, I guarantee you. Now shh or I’ll stuff one of these in your mouth.” He held up a striped necktie before securing it to one of the headboard posts.
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