Blackout: A Romance Anthology

by Stephanie St. Klaire

  His friends in Hollywood saw him as a cautionary tale and stayed the hell away. Chelsea thought he was damned lucky to 1) be alive and 2) still have any career. Chance wanted to talk to someone who’d be on his side.

  He knew that was Anda.

  Well, Chance knew it was the Anda he’d met last year. He just hoped that connection between them still flared as strong.

  “You know why I’m here in Vegas?”

  Using her paddle, she flicked water at him. “Because playing the lottery wasn’t working, so you decided to up your odds at the craps tables?”

  “Yeah, that’s a sound strategy. No, I’m okay for money. Just not… happy about it.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  God, he’d been aching to tell her for so long. “Final Justice 3 premieres this week.”

  Recognition flared her eyes wide. “Isn’t that the movie you got hurt on?”

  “It’s been reclassified to the movie that ended my career as a stuntman.”

  In a few hard strokes, she maneuvered her kayak back right next to his. “But—you were almost healed when we were back in Colorado. What happened?”

  “It turns out there’s regular person healed, and then there’s a whole other level of stunt-worthy healed. My leg and shoulder—they don’t pass muster for that.” He executed a fancy triple-spin of his oar above his head. “As far as daily life goes, I’m fine. But the insurance companies won’t clear me for stunt work. I’m done.”

  “Wow.” She paused, her face expressionless. “Before I put my foot in my mouth and say the wrong thing, how do you feel about that?”

  The impulse to roll his eyes and bark out “shitty” was strong. But the reason he wanted to talk it through? The whole situation was way more complicated than merely “shitty.”

  “Ah…conflicted.”

  “I’ll bet. Would you like to run down the list?”

  Chance scrubbed his palm over his face. “I thought I had years left to go in this business before figuring out what to do next. Suddenly my career, my daily life, everything I know stopped.”

  “And it wasn’t your choice. That must be so tough to swallow.”

  “Yeah.” A thought occurred to him. “It’s like what happened to you. Your boutique had to close with basically no warning. You were blindsided.”

  “Ah, yes. Usually people say this to be sympathetic, but I truly can understand what you’re going through. It sucks.”

  “Sure does.”

  “What else?” she prompted.

  “I should be grateful. Due to the ‘permanent inability to pursue my chosen career,’ the film’s insurance company paid out a whopper of a settlement. I mean, it isn’t Clooney doing another Ocean’s 11 kind of money, but I’m set. Comfortable without doing anything else.”

  “I’m sure you’re grateful. But you can be grateful and still be full of regrets. Frustration, too. There’s no rule that says you can only feel one emotion at a time.” Anda cocked her head. “There’s more, isn’t there?”

  “You sure you want me to keep going?”

  “Yes. Very sure.”

  Chance trailed his fingers in the water to cool down. “My sister, Chelsea, is thrilled that I’m out. She thinks I spent too long cheating death. So I’m glad that I’m not adding to her worries anymore.”

  “You’re a good brother. What do you do with your days?”

  “I’m a stunt coordinator. I shadowed on one movie, and then put one under my belt solo. My next one is due to start soon. That way, I still get to use all my experience.”

  Anda pursed her lips and cocked her head to the side, studying him. “You don’t sound thrilled.”

  “It looked right on paper. Made sense. But if I’m forced to close the door on that part of my life, I want more separation. Maybe in a few years this’d be the right choice. All I know is that it doesn’t fit now, watching people do what I want to be doing.”

  “Of course it doesn’t. You’re rubbing salt in an unhealed wound.”

  “Don’t hold back or anything.”

  “You’re right. Logically, it makes sense. But your heart, your soul, isn’t ready for it.” She slapped her hands together, as if wiping away his career. “We’ll fix it. Do you have any other ideas up your sleeve?”

  Her spirit, her unselfish urge to help, floored him. “Just like that? You want to help me reboot my life?”

  “Yes. I mean…if you want me to. I don’t want to butt in if you’re only venting. I’m good if you need a sympathetic pair of ears.”

  They were so completely in sync again. He adored the way she was ready to throw herself into his problem. “I’d love to get your take on something. An idea that’s a little bit crazy. A lot risky.”

  “Isn’t that basically the definition of what a stuntman does?” Her lips blossomed into a wide smile. “I already think it sounds perfect.”

  Support simply for having an idea? Yeah, Anda made him feel a hundred feet tall. Uber-capable. Chance loved it. “I thought I could open an elite self-defense school. Use everything I learned from stunt work to help movie stars and executives protect themselves. They’ve all got bodyguards, but—”

  Anda jumped right in. “But look at what happened to Kim Kardashian in Paris? Her bodyguards were incapacitated, and she got tied up. Oh, this is brilliant.”

  Her enthusiasm pushed him to spill more details. “Not just close fighting. Defensive driving, too. For when crazed fans or paparazzi are chasing them. Or, in the case of the super-wealthy, potential kidnappers. I know how to do everything, safely. It’d be using my skills in a completely different way.”

  “I think you could give lots of people a level of peace of mind that they haven’t had in years. Plus, you’ve got all the contacts you’ve made over the years. I’ll bet you could fill a roster for the first six months with sending barely any emails.”

  Hopefully. But… “It’d take a little more work than that. Hiring a staff, finding a facility.”

  “What about that old kiddie park that shut down last year? You could use the parking lot for driving.”

  That was damn smart. “Now you’re thinking out of the box. I like it.”

  “I do, too.” She bounced in her seat a little.

  The kayak tilted. Anda overcorrected by leaning too far in the opposite direction. Next thing he knew, she was in the water.

  Shit. Chance didn’t think. Didn’t bother to assume that a Southern California native would know how to swim. He dropped his paddle on the floor of the kayak and rolled out of it sideways.

  Two fast strokes had him at her side. Only the top of her head was visible above the water. Chance dove, hooked her around the chest with one arm, and surfaced. He immediately adjusted her head to rest against his shoulder. Raised one knee to support her like a chair. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

  “Are you nuts? What are you doing?” Anda twisted her head sideways to skewer him with a confused glare. Her arms circled slowly, helping to keep her afloat.

  Wasn’t it obvious? “Saving you.”

  “From what, Aquaman?” Laughter burbled out of her as brightly as the sun reflecting off the water.

  Now he felt stupid. And realized he’d overreacted massively. “Possibly drowning?”

  “That’s…incredibly sweet. Unnecessary, but so chivalrous. I’ve never had someone attempt to save my life before. Thank you, Chance.” Her glare morphed into warm tenderness. Followed by her kissing the side of his jaw. “I guess I owe you something now.”

  “You don’t owe me anything. I owe you an apology for making such a big deal out of it. I didn’t hurt you when I yanked you up, did I?”

  “No, Chance. You’re not hurting me at all.” Her soft, slow words sounded like they cloaked a double meaning.

  Which is when it hit him that his arm still supported her, with his hand splayed against the edge of her breast. That her leg hung down between his, rubbing against his dick and balls. That she was sort of bobbing in the water, riding his thigh.


  That they were in a very sexual position.

  Their kayaks had drifted while they’d talked, so they were now close to the shore. It only took a few strong kicks of his leg to get them underneath a bridge that spanned between two golf course greens. All Chance cared about was that it provided them cover and privacy, even though he didn’t see a single player out on the course.

  “What I said made you jump, made you fall in the water. I need to make that up to you.”

  “What have you got in mind?”

  He couldn’t touch the bottom. And single person kayaks weren’t built for sex. But he could improvise. “I’m out of my mind, Anda, with how much I want you. How much I need to touch you.”

  His friends gave him side-eye when he showed up at the gym seven days a week, still joining them in punishing workouts. Their unspoken question had been why Chance continued to push himself so hard to stay in shape. The answer, until today, had been because it was all he knew.

  The answer today? So that he could easily, tirelessly, continue to tread water with one leg and his abs of steel, while continuing to hold this beautiful woman close.

  “Touch me more, Chance.” It was a breathy invitation, and the signal he’d been waiting for.

  Shifting a little, he got his hand inside her bikini top. Her nipple was already beaded. Probably from the cold water, but he hoped it was more than that. He circled his palm slowly, right over the taut tip.

  Anda’s back arched. Her ass scooched back until it rubbed against his stomach. God, that was torture. Because Chance clearly felt the generous roundness of her bare skin, with the bikini barely providing any coverage.

  With both of her arms still helping to keep them buoyed, Chance dragged his other hand down her smooth belly. She bucked against him as he cupped her through the suit. “Do you like that?”

  “Yes.” Her eyelids popped open, and she threw him a saucy smile. “More, please.”

  “There’s literally nothing I’d rather do.” Chance spared a look at the far opposite shore. Still clear of people. Middle of the weekday in January, it wasn’t a surprise, but he’d wanted to be sure.

  They’d shared more than enough with the world when on the show. Everything that happened between them from now on needed to be private.

  He slid his hand under the material of her swimsuit. Kept going to slide one finger deep inside her. Anda immediately clenched around him on a moan. His balls tightened, painfully. His dick forced its way out of the top of the waistband of his trunks to rub against her ass. There was no containing how turned on Chance was.

  With her twisting and bouncing on his leg, it was clear that she was just as excited. Chance added a second finger. The mewling, panting sound of Anda enjoying his touch almost rolled his eyes back in his head.

  She was so hot. So responsive.

  They were so damn perfect together, just the way he remembered.

  “I want to touch you, too.”

  “Next time. Your job is to help keep us from sinking.”

  “I’m so close. I just—” Anda broke off as he ground the heel of his hand against her clit, still pumping his fingers in and out. Her thighs slammed tight against his wrist as she let out a keening cry that echoed off the metal underside of the bridge.

  As soon as her scream ended, he let go of her breast and used both of his arms to tread water. Anda sagged against his leg for a moment. “You’re so beautiful when you come. Your cheeks turn the same pink as your nipples.”

  She quickly adjusted the fabric of her top to cover herself. “Nobody has ever complimented my cheeks before.”

  “Give me enough time and I’ll compliment every inch of you.”

  “I’m sorry I don’t have a condom.” Anda slid off of his leg, but patted his still obvious erection before swimming a few feet away. “Sex shouldn’t be one-sided. You need—”

  “No. I got everything I need.” Her response sounded a little pat. Like the invisible barrier that had been up between them in the bar, the one that had disappeared once they started talking about his job, was back in place. “We aren’t ready to have sex yet.”

  “Really?” And she slid her hand along his length again.

  “We’re reconnecting. Syncing back up. I don’t want to have sex with you until we’re both sure it’s the right thing to do.” Because that had to be what had gone wrong last time.

  They’d jumped into bed too quickly. Or maybe it was the pressure of knowing America would assume they’d had sex in the Dream Suite, and it had made Anda feel too exposed. Either way, since she’d bolted on Chance right after their night together, it had to be something tied to sex.

  So, he’d take a million cold showers, if that’s what it took, until she was ready. No way was this over once they left Vegas. Anda had given him a do-over, and he wouldn’t waste it.

  “That’s…almost as chivalrous as saving my life.”

  “What can I say? You bring out the best in me.”

  CHAPTER 8

  Jenny paced the length of their balcony, spike-heeled red sandals clicking against the concrete. “Chance refused to have sex with you?”

  “In a word, yes.” In more words? It was sooo sweet. Yet, it wasn’t part of her plan. And it left Anda thoroughly confused.

  Whirling around, Jenny asked, “But you do plan on making him have revenge sex with you? Here? Before you leave?”

  “Yes.” To hopefully cover her lack of conviction, Anda tightened her robe before leaning forward to top off their coffees. “Well, hopefully. Probably. If I go through with it.”

  “I’m reeling. First, you tell me the big, bad wolf is here and you want to do him.”

  Jenny kept harping on being kept out of the loop on the change in their plan to fix Anda’s life. “I wanted to tell you after I saw him the first night, but you stayed out at the casinos so late that I was asleep when you got back.”

  “Did you ever think I stayed out so late so you’d feel free to do the nasty without checking in with me?”

  Ugh. Anda hated it when Jenny referred to sex that way.

  Hookups might be on trend, but Anda still didn’t want to think of them as faceless, emotionless deals. Or anything dirty. If she’d gone through with the original plan, it would’ve been with a man with a good sense of humor, who could talk to her through dinner and drinks before things progressed.

  “No. I didn’t logic out you gambling at a casino until four a.m.,” she said sarcastically. “Because it’s, you know, Vegas. But, um, thank you?”

  With a sniff, Jenny sat down on the padded chair and picked at the fruit tray. “Why wouldn’t you go through with it with Chance?”

  Anda didn’t want to confess the real reason. That things with Chance were sooo good. As good as before, when they’d been on the show. So good, in fact, that she was quickly losing the urge to punish him. So good that a teensy, tiny thought about them actually being able to rebuild their relationship was chasing around her brain like a firefly in a dark garden.

  That would make her look weak. No, that would make her weak. A woman who caved. A woman who changed her mind from a single orgasm.

  She could give herself an orgasm, damn it. She could go down to Sunset Boulevard and visit a plethora of sex shops and buy herself a vibrator even bigger than Chance’s amazing, satisfying penis.

  Anda needed to remember that no matter how nice he was….how he’d honestly tried to save her life…he was the same man who’d kicked her off the show once he got his fill of her. That he’d wanted access to the smorgasbord of other beautiful women being handed to him on a silver tray.

  That he’d already given up the chance at a relationship with her once. Without so much as the courtesy of a heads-up, let alone an explanation.

  Looking out at the lake where they’d shared such a perfect date yesterday, Anda murmured softly, “Well, it feels a little crass. A little bit skanky. To use him like that.”

  “You were fine at the idea of hooking up with a stranger,” Jenny s
hot back.

  “Fine might be an overstatement. I was more…resigned. Like how you know a flu shot will hurt, but is ultimately the smart choice. Yes, I truly believe that a super-hot, no-strings attached hookup would rebuild my self-confidence.”

  Displeasure hung around Jenny like a swarm of flies around potato salad. “But instead of heading down to that bar right now and picking out a man, you’re sticking with this idea of revenge sex.”

  With a resolute nod, Anda said, “Yes.”

  Because…it was, well, also a second chance. The night they’d shared together in Colorado had been the best sex of her life. It had been the closest connection she’d ever shared with a man.

  A connection that felt almost one-hundred percent rebooted after their time on the lake.

  Damn it. She’d let herself forget how badly he’d hurt her. The fact of how he’d dropped her.

  Instead, Anda had enjoyed being with Chance. It was as if no time had passed. No doubt she’d go to her grave remembering the hot, fast, raunchy orgasm he gave her under that bridge. So, she couldn’t regret what happened.

  She needed to tap back into her reservoir of anger and pain to fuel her plan to seduce him. Without opening her heart again.

  Without falling in love with him again.

  Jenny bent in half to lean forward, forearms on her knees. “You don’t seem sure.”

  “I am. I am sure.” Mostly. Topped off with the fact that she didn’t have a better plan or any other option to get over Chance.

  “Revenge sex won’t make you happy,” Jenny warned with a patronizing tightening of her lips at the end.

  “Maybe it won’t. Well, I mean, it absolutely will, in the moment.” Little aftershocks of pleasure tingled under Anda’s skin just remembering Chance’s touch. “That man has skills, Jenny. Like you wouldn’t believe. He knows exactly what to do with a woman’s body.”

  “Right. Because he’s had so many of them. Remember? He’s a total player?”

  Would a total player really compliment the color of her cheeks during an orgasm? It was so hard to reconcile Chance-the-man-she-was-with-now and Chance-the-man-who’d-dumped-her. Anda picked up her second lemon cranberry muffin and plucked off the top. Fruit, carbs and sugar would make this unexpectedly difficult conversation a bit easier to bear.