by Tara Wylde
But Tina’s hit me harder than any bullet could. It takes a full thirty seconds before my erection recedes enough that I can leave the bedroom and rejoin everyone.
The sweet smell of lobster tickles my nose as I emerge from the bedroom, prompting another impromptu rumble from my belly, and distracting a little more blood away from my groin and into my stomach.
I glance at Tina—she avoids my gaze, but otherwise there’s no sign that anything happened between us. I guess she has to be able to put on a face for the crowd in her line of work. Still, I’d be lying if I said it didn’t hurt.
The porter lays out the food on big white plates under those fancy steel cover things on the suite’s dining table. After years of ship rations and those god-awful MREs – Meals Ready to Eat, or we called them back in the service, Meals Rejected by Everyone – in combat zones, the thought of a meal like this has almost the same effect on me as the thought of sex.
Almost.
Not quite.
Chapter Seven
TINA
Sometimes Xander Tate can be a real bastard.
I’ve just about managed to get my breathing back under control and he goes and pulls that stunt. I guess there goes any thought about being over him!
Luckily for me, I’ve been working on my acting. One has to maintain ones cool on stage—and if that means Xander can’t get the better of me, well, that’s icing on the cake.
Under the table, I glide my right foot toward his and surreptitiously grind the four-inch heel of my Nordstrom pump into his instep. To his credit, he doesn’t let it show on his face, but I can see it in his eyes. He glances over at me. Is he trying to hold back a laugh?
Shit, now I am too.
I’m still reeling from the unreality of our bedroom… encounter. I haven’t lost control like that since—well, since Xander left me behind to join the Navy.
One second I was angry at him, the next I’m pressing my butt into his groin and wishing he’d slip his hands underneath my top and kiss my neck. Just thinking about it makes my nipples stiffen and strain against my bra.
Jason saves me from having to deal with the situation by distracting me with his predictable petulance. I love him like a brother, but I swear to God it’s an even bet that at any given point in time, he’ll find something to be pissed off about.
That seems to go double for when Xander is around. They go together like oil and water. Burning oil, that is.
“So where do I fit in with the publicity tomorrow?” Jason growls. He finished his lobster tail long before anyone else and is now greedily working on his rice pilaf.
If he doesn’t watch out, the little paunch that’s already beginning to show will start creeping over his belt. Jason was never much of an athlete in school; he was more into video games.
Xander, on the other hand, lettered in wrestling and track. He was a natural at anything that involved his body.
Wait, I didn’t mean that like it sounds.
Oh hell, who am I kidding? Of course I did. I can’t sit here in a pool of my own desire and lie to myself. All I can think about is his body and what it just did to me.
“You don’t fit in at all,” says Carol, doing her own part to rescue me from my overactive imagination. She drains her glass of Moët & Chandon and rises from the table.
“Tina doesn’t need her agent fluttering around her near the media.”
She must see the hurt look on his face because her expression softens. “It has nothing to do with you, Jason,” she says.
“But it's a cold, undeniable fact that agents make reporters nervous. It’s your job to look out for Tina’s best interests, and that unfortunately runs counter to good journalism. Tina wouldn’t be the first rising star to have her career derailed by an agent who didn’t know when to step away from the spotlight. Sometimes you need to let the talent speak for herself.”
I can practically feel the smug grin winding its way across Xander’s face as Jason scowls at him.
Carol lays her hand on my shoulder.
“Now,” she says, “it’s time for you two to get undressed and snuggle up together on the sofa.”
Chapter Eight
TINA
“Excuse me?” I splutter, almost choking on my champagne.
Carol looks at me, perplexed, then realizes what she’s said and snorts a little laugh. Even that somehow sounds dignified coming from her.
“I don’t mean literally, dear,” she says. “I mean change out of these clothes into something more… comfortable.” She looks at Xander.
“Do you have any sweatpants, or – even better – some gym shorts?”
Xander’s forehead wrinkles when he speaks. “Sure, why?”
“You two need to look like you’re a loving couple relaxing in this posh penthouse suite.”
I’m still not picking up what she’s laying down. “Why, exactly, do we need to do that?” I ask.
Carol looks at me like I’m dim. “Darling,” she says. “You’re far too young and I’m far too old for me to be the one who brings up Instagram. It’s the perfect opportunity to introduce Xander to your followers. Two beautiful young lovers from humble beginnings, living it up at the stately Beverly Wilshire. They’ll lap it up like ice cream, especially when they realize Xander is the ‘man from the video.’ ”
It hurts, but I see her point.
Between Instagram, Twitter and Facebook, I’ve already got at least a quarter-million new “friends.” It’s a wonderful feeling to know so many people are interested in me and in what I’m doing.
Of course, I can’t help but wonder if one of them is responsible for leaving the creepy love notes I keep finding in my dressing room, too. So I guess it’s a double-edged sword…
“What’s Instagram?” Xander grunts.
Carol looks at him like a little girl might look at a puppy. “Oh, my dear boy,” she says. “Where have you been?”
Suddenly Xander’s expression changes into something I’ve never seen. It’s like the shadow of a cloud passing over the ground on a sunny day, and I can’t help but wonder what he might have seen on the other side of the world.
“I’ve spent most of the past few years rotating in and out of warzones,” he says. “The internet’s not that great in the ass end of a FOB.”
I might not have seen him in years, but I still know my Xander well enough to know that he’s hiding something. Something big.
He’s not your anything…
“Well you’re about to get acquainted with it,” I say, hoping to lighten the mood. “Go get changed into something more comfortable.”
“I am comfortable,” he grouses.
“I want your body to be on display,” says Carol. Amazingly, she doesn’t sound horny when she says it. She’s all business.
“It’ll send Tina’s female fans into rapture,” she says, adding, “and hopefully show any potential stalkers that she’s now protected by her very own bad boy officer, of course.”
I can’t help but think that that second part seems like a bit of an afterthought…
Xander shrugs. “Sorry, ma’am,” he says. “I was a non-com.”
“A what now?” I ask.
“Non-commissioned officer. It means no one called me sir.”
“What was your rank?” I’m curious—it never occurred to me to ask. He just referred to himself as a “seaman recruit” when he first enlisted.
And, naturally, Xander being Xander, he laughed every time he said it.
“CPO,” he says. “Chief Petty Officer. I was one of the guys who did the real work.”
Jason joins us in the living room after finishing a slice of strawberry shortcake that it took all my willpower not to touch. “So,” he says. “You’re saying you had to salute everyone? Even an ensign?”
“Everyone salutes everyone in the Navy,” Xander says evenly. “Non-comms just do it first. I figure you might as well get it out of the way.”
That puppy-loving grin is back on Carol’s fa
ce, taking years away and making her look almost thirty again. She glides an arm across Xander’s chiseled shoulder.
“I could eat you with a spoon, my boy,” she says. “But time is wasting. Go get changed. That’s an order.”
Xander flips a mock salute to her, which delights her even more. God, if you looked up “Southern charm” in the dictionary, you’d see a picture of him. Outside the bedroom, at least. In there, it was another story.
“Yes, ma’am,” he says and pads into the bedroom.
When he comes out a couple minutes later, he’s in a white tank top and a pair of black cotton shorts. If I hadn’t seen him with his shirt off earlier, the sight of his marble physique might actually take my breath away.
Oh who am I kidding? It catches in my chest for a second time.
Carol stares at him a little too long before finally tearing her eyes away and turning to me.
“Now you,” she says and claps her hands. “Chop chop.”
I disappear into the bedroom and rifle through my drawers. What the heck should I wear?
Suddenly I’m nervous, wondering what would excite Xander the most. I stop and shake my head.
“Get it together, girl,” I mutter under my breath. I decide on an oversized tee-shirt and a pair of short leggings that come to the knee. I go with sexy but casual, perfect for my fans. I hope.
Yeah, Tina, it’s your fans you’re hoping to impress…
I come back into the living room. Carol has already placed Xander in the corner of the sofa, one leg up on the cushions, the other foot on the floor. As I enter, I can’t help but wonder how close and personal she got in doing so.
As I clear that thought from my mind, Carol motions to me to join him.
“Slide up between his legs, dear,” she says.
Xander looks up at me and grins, patting the cushion in front of his groin. Part of me wants to smack him. Part of me can’t wait to get in there. I compromise and plop down with my full weight on his crotch.
“Uff,” he grunts in my ear. I can’t see him but I can hear the grimace in his voice. At least my smile in the photo will be genuine.
He recovers quickly, though, and before I know it, I feel the concrete of his erection against the thin cotton of my leggings and for the umpteenth time today, I can feel blood rushing to my cheeks. And other parts of me. I can’t help myself—I have to go further.
“Just a second,” I say, shifting my position. “I’m not comfortable.”
Carol seems oblivious to what’s happening.
“Yes, comfort is important,” she says absently as she scrolls through her phone. “We want it to look sincere. You know the old saying: if you can fake that, you’ve got it made.”
I feel Xander squirming behind me as I raise my butt slightly, hooking it on top of the tent of his cock and moving it forward, so that it’s horizontal and pressing upwards against my opening.
Thank God I’m wearing panties, or his gym shorts would be soaked.
The sensation is heaven, and it makes me ache to have him all the way inside me. Like the Rihanna song, I like the way it hurts.
I look back over my shoulder. “Everything okay, sailor?” I ask. I feel like Marilyn Monroe for some reason.
“Ship shape,” he pants gruffly. He seems barely capable of mastering his desire. His hot breath tickles my neck once again.
Feels more like it’s submarine shaped. The dirtiness of my own thoughts continues to surprise me.
I turn the screen of my mobile so that its facing us and position it so that both our faces are in the picture. To my amazement, I’m actually not blushing fiercely. Plus one for all those acting lessons I took…
I smile—genuinely, despite Carol’s cynicism. Xander is his usual grinning self. His arms are around my abdomen and his stubbled chin is sitting softly on my right shoulder.
I look at the photo—two faces that seem so natural together, so right—and without warning, out of nowhere, I’m overcome by a crazy sense of loss.
We were so good together in senior year, so much more than ‘just’ a teenage crush.
We finished each other’s sentences, liked the same things, talked for hours on end. We didn’t need sex to be together then – because we had love.
And Xander gave that all up for the Navy. Gave me up.
We went from addicted to each other,straight to me feeling like a burden to him, without passing go. It felt like his new life was just so cool that there was no place in it for a silly girl like me.
I hit send on the photo and it’s uploaded for all the world to see. Tina Quinn, rising star, and Xander Tate, the parking lot hero, deliriously happy together.
If only that part was genuine.
Chapter Nine
XANDER
Suddenly I feel Tina sliding back off of my cock, and I’m just as confused as I was when she climbed on. I pride myself on being able to read a situation – all SEALs can, it’s one of our defining characteristics – and yet I can’t tell from one minute to the next what the hell is going on here.
The blood starts to flow back into the rest of my body as Tina sends her picture out into the Instaverse, or whatever it’s called. I don’t get this obsession so many folks have with living their lives online these days.
I just finished brushing my hair and now I’m eating chips! I mean, who gives a flying fuck?
Then again, if Tina’s got revealing pics out there, maybe I could find a fuck to give…
Tina moves forward suddenly and stands up, which leaves me totally exposed to the room. I lean forward and tuck a leg under me, hiding the bulge in my shorts.
“Can I see?” I ask, trying to keep attention away from below my waist.
Tina turns to show me the screen, but she doesn’t look me in the eye. I recognize that look. She’s hurt. Why? Everything was going great, and suddenly this?
What did I do?
You mean other than that time you abandoned her a few months after enlisting, even though you’d been inseparable for a year before that? And that time you suddenly reappeared in her life and tried to maul her in the bedroom of her hotel suite like nothing had happened?
Shit.
Okay, I get it. For a fella whose job for years was built around thinking on his feet, I can be pretty slow sometimes.
Carol takes the phone from Tina’s hand and examines the pic. “Perfect,” she says with a smile.
“They’re going to lap it up. Look, it's already blowing up. Over 500 likes and counting.”
I can’t see the screen, but I believe it. The phone’s buzzing nonstop.
Tina takes back her cell and concentrates on the screen. “ ‘OMG,’ ” she reads, deadpan. It’s the oral version of rolling her eyes…
“ ‘I can’t believe you’re with Xander Tate. He’s such a babe! Love this.’ That last part was in all caps with a dozen exclamation points.”
Jason comes over to her and stands behind her, looking over her shoulder. He puts a hand on her other one and suddenly all I can think of is dislocating that hand’s wrist.
“Well,” he says, “its official. If it’s online, it must be true.”
“Shush,” says Carol, looking at the screen now, too. “See? The likes are rolling in like the wheels on a slot machine. You’re up over a thousand now. And that’s in less than three minutes.”
She looks up and smiles.
“I am a certified genius. Why hire a bodyguard when you can hire the bodyguard?”
I look at her and squint. “I don’t follow.”
Jason rolls his eyes. “She’s talking about the movie The Bodyguard,” he says. “Kevin Costner and Whitney Houston? He’s hired to keep her safe and they fall in love. Don’t you watch the classics? I guess not. You strike me as a Transformers man.”
“Oh,” I say, ignoring the jibe. Sometimes I wonder how some people have so much time on to watch all these movies and TV shows and such. “Okay.”
“Except for one big difference,” says Tina,
her face stony. “They were actually in love.”
Carol waves a dismissive hand. “Pshh,” she says. “That has nothing to do with publicity. This is solid gold, trust me.”
I barely understand what’s going on here, but I know this much: Tina has done a complete one-eighty since we left the bedroom, and I don’t know what to do about it.
I know something else, too: Whatever I end up doing, I don’t want to do it in front of Jason Fucking Lane.
Carol grabs her phone and wallet and drops them into her purse. She puts an arm around Tina’s shoulder and squeezes her in a sort-of hug.
“All right, my dear, I want you to hit the hay,” Carol says. “You have a big day tomorrow.”
“Sure,” says Tina.
Carol frowns. “Try not to have an orgasm over the excitement of it all. Come on – you’re about to be a star!”
“Sorry,” Tina says, managing a little smile. “I’m just tired. This has been the craziest day of my life.”
Carol takes her by the shoulders and looks her in the eye. My mama used to do that to me when she had something important to say.
“It’s just going to get crazier from here on in,” she says. “Are you sure you’re prepared for that? Because if you’re not, you need to tell me now.”
Tina’s eyes go wide. She looks like someone who’s hauled a prize catfish into the boat and now it’s flopping its way towards the gunwale and back into the water.
“I’m ready,” she says quickly. Then her voice turns fierce, and suddenly she’s the little spitfire I fell in love with senior year. “I’m ready for all of it. I didn’t work my ass off for the past six years to walk away from this.”
Then she turns towards me and fixes me with a glare that could freeze a waterfall.
“And nothing is going to get in my way.”
Chapter Ten
TINA