Say You Need Me

by Carrie Lomax

  He’d followed her like a duckling waddling after its mother. Olivia was not his mother, but she was his mentor. The very last thing he should be doing was mooning over the dark-haired nymph hiding in his hotel room when he ought to be making the most of this opportunity. Yet his body kept flushing with heat at the memory of Janie watching him undress.

  “May I confide, Captain?” he asked.

  “Let’s get a coffee. This speaker’s been droning on so long I can’t even remember his point.” She stood up and made her way past a full row of scowling men who didn’t like being interrupted by a woman, especially a black one. Olivia never let that shit get to her, though.

  Outwardly.

  They found a pair of comfortably overstuffed chairs in the lounge area and availed themselves of free, terrible coffee. Considering the deprivation they’d endured on the base, neither complained.

  “What’s on your mind, soldier?”

  Trent gave her the thumbnail sketch of his predicament. He imagined most people would’ve laughed at his problem—most men didn’t think a pretty girl taking refuge in your room would qualify—but Olivia was a mom through and through. If there was one person in the world who knew him, it was Captain Davidson. She understood why this was a serious challenge for him.

  “Well. You can’t turn her out into the street,” she finally said.

  There went that plan. “Can I hand her off to you?”

  “No you cannot, soldier. I’m already sharing a room to keep expenses down, and there’s no space for a third. Why don’t you give her the other bed for a night?”

  Because there is no other bed. Though the names and décor of hotels changed, Trent knew most of the Las Vegas venues from his days as a professional poker player. He’d thought he was being smart by choosing the awkward line of smaller rooms to save a few bucks and, more importantly, give him some breathing room between long days of socializing. He hadn’t counted on Janie.

  “Who are you rooming with?” he asked, sidestepping Olivia’s question.

  “My twin,” Olivia deadpanned. It was an inside joke. People frequently mistook her for her roommate, another black woman, though they looked nothing alike.

  Trent winced. “You still get that shit?”

  Olivia snorted. “You might be the only white guy here who can tell us apart. So, what are you going to do about the gate crasher?”

  “I have no idea. She has no money. I can’t keep feeding her all weekend.”

  Olivia grinned widely, her teeth a little gapped in the front. “Lucky for you, I'm not attending tonight's dinner. I have other plans.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Gotta get back on the dating train sometime. I’ll drop by your room with my dinner ticket later.”

  “Thanks.”

  That took care tonight. Maybe Janie would be gone when he got back. Trent ignored a little stab of disappointment at the thought.

  * * *

  If she explained the situation rationally instead of retreating into sarcasm, Mason would let her stay. Probably.

  Maybe.

  She hoped.

  The door opened softly and her pulse leapt. “You’re still here. I was hoping you wouldn’t be.”

  Janelle swallowed. “Me, too. As I have yet to invent teleportation, I’m still stranded. I’d have left a thank-you note, though. So long, thanks for the sandwich, have a nice life. And for the drink. And for the second one I made after you left. There’s an IOU on the table.”

  Mason sat on the edge of the bed, since she was curled up on the small couch. Loveseat. She could hardly even think the word. His knees splayed open and he leaned back on one hand. Her attraction had sharped to a knife’s edge. She cleared her throat and continued.

  “I called the agency. They talked to the sugar daddy. He says he doesn’t have my wallet, and the agency told me there was nothing they could do for me. Without ID, I can’t check into a hotel room even if my parents agreed to rent one for me.”

  “Your parents wouldn’t help you?”

  “They would if I told them about this situation, but frankly, I’m too embarrassed to do that if there’s any other way to fix this mess. My plane ticket isn’t until Monday. I can probably talk my way past security at the airport, but I’d rather not have to.”

  Mace rubbed his forehead. “How did a girl like you get into this mess?”

  “A girl like me?” What the hell did he mean?

  “Pretty. Smart. Capable.”

  Right now, Janelle felt like none of those things. “Student loans. I missed a few payments early on and my credit’s trashed and my debt load’s high.”

  “How about getting a job?” Mace demanded.

  “I have two, thanks for asking.” Ah, sarcasm was not her friend here.

  Mason made a face. “Sorry. If you’re employed, why are you so broke?”

  “My loans take up a huge chunk of my monthly income. It makes managing the loans damn near impossible. I’ve paid a lot of it down since I graduated, but my credit’s still in the gutter. I’ve had job offers rescinded because of it. My boyfriend moved to Texas and broke up with me shortly after. Now he’s getting married to someone else.” Janelle gritted her teeth hard enough to almost crack her molars just to keep her chin from wobbling.

  “He was the one partner I take it?”

  “How’d you guess?” Janelle watched Mason slowly collapse backward on the bed and for one embarrassed moment she wondered what he’d say if she told him she was ready for partner number two. He lay back with such controlled motion that even if she hadn’t already checked him out with all the subtlety of a bride picking out housewares for her wedding registry, she’d have known his abdomen was solid muscle.

  Mason clapped both large hands over his eyes and rubbed them. “What is it you need?”

  Not sitting here ogling a guy who wasn’t her type at all. She liked nice men. Not too big, not too tall, a little earnest, kind and funny. Guys who’d remember your birthday, your mom’s birthday, and your anniversary without fail. Like Ben, her ex.

  Mason was none of those things, except kind. Though her presence was wearing on him, and his patience seemed ready to snap. “I need a place to stay for a night or two until I figure out how to get my wallet back from the Rich Jerk.”

  Mason made a crack between his fingers and peered out. “Rich Jerk?”

  “That’s what I call him.”

  “There’s a simpler term. They’re called johns.”

  If he’d smacked her across the face it would’ve hurt less. “You know what? I think I’ll take my chances with the police. There’s probably a women’s shelter I can check into somewhere around here.” Janelle snatched up her bag from the floor beside her and headed for the door.

  Only to nearly ram into his chest as Mason rose and blocked her path. Janelle stumbled back two steps and peered up at him.

  “What does the Rich Jerk want?” he demanded in a low growl.

  “What do you think he wants? A belated Christmas card?” Mayday, mayday. Do not burn this bridge. It’s the only one you have.

  Mason watched her. “What’s your full name, Janie?”

  “If I tell you, will you let me stay?”

  He sighed. She had the feeling that he’d been doing that a lot since meeting her this morning.

  “I promise I’ll sleep on the couch,” she offered, cajoling.

  “No one can sleep on that couch. It’s tiny. We’ll figure something out. But first you have to tell me your full name.”

  “Do I get to know yours?”

  “Janie,” he growled. Irrationally, it made her smile.

  “Janelle Carlisle from Verona Harbor, Florida.” She stuck out her hand. “And you are?”

  “Trent Mason.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Trent.” His hand engulfed hers and pumped it once. When he let go, a tingly aftershock made its way up her arm and reverberated throughout her body. Trent wasn’t her type. But she wasn’t blind, either. He was all kinds
of gorgeous.

  Just not her kind.

  Really.

  Even if he was, the chance that he was single was nonexistent. She’d already checked for a wedding band. Nothing. That didn’t mean he didn’t have a girlfriend, though. A girlfriend who wouldn’t take too kindly to a strange woman crashing in his hotel room, no matter what the circumstances. “Are you seeing anyone?”

  He jerked around, blue eyes startled. “What?”

  Ask without sounding like you’re trying to get in his pants. “I don’t want to get you in trouble with a girlfriend, if you have one. I’ll understand if I can’t stay.”

  Trent Mason shook his head. “No girlfriend. I got out of the Army about eight months ago. Listen. Before you decide you want to crash here, take a few minutes on the computer and do a background check.”

  He reached over to the computer and raised the lid. “Go on. I’ll wait.”

  By the time Janelle recovered from her total shock that some lucky girl hadn’t snapped him up, Trent had returned to lounging against the headboard. Earlier, she’d noticed a dog-eared copy of The Iliad on the nightstand. He picked it up and thumbed to the center.

  She dropped her bag and sat in the chair, fingers perched over the keyboard. Typed his name into the search bar. It popped up instantly.

  “You have a Wikipedia entry?” she asked, bewildered.

  Trent nodded once, without looking up.

  Janelle clicked the link. The entry included a picture that looked an awful lot like a younger version of the man on the bed. “It says Trent Mason was the youngest top-ranked poker player eight years ago.”

  Another silent nod.

  “Left the game circuit after losing…” Jesus. “After losing millions of dollars in a high-stakes game of top-tier poker champions. World Series of Poker?”

  Nod.

  Her money problems seemed puny in comparison. Janelle kept reading. “Dated adult film star Penelope Roberts, who performed under the name Bad Penny.”

  Terse acknowledgment from the vicinity of the headboard.

  “After an arrest for drug possession, spent time at the Glen Harbor Rehabilitation facility in Colorado for a rumored cocaine addiction.”

  Holy shit. Her guardian angel was a drug addict and gambler into dating porn actresses. How could this get any worse?

  “Mason appeared in a sex tape with Ms. Roberts…” Oh. That was how it got worse. Her fingers were as sturdy as Jell-O, hardly capable of scrolling down the page. “After a year of legal disputes, the film was formally released and distributed. Mason subsequently joined the Army and served in Afghanistan.”

  “Two tours,” Trent added without glancing up from his book.

  “And now you’re here for a cybersecurity conference?”

  “I’d rather you didn’t update the entry with that information. There’s a reason I only use my last name. The point of this exercise is that if you want to click your heels and go home, Dorothy, your best bet is calling your parents and telling them everything. It won’t help your case if they find out you’re shacking up with Trent Mason.”

  Janelle couldn’t look at him, that six feet of sexy brawn sprawled out over the bed she’d napped in a couple of hours ago. Desperate for anything that would make this better, she clicked on the next link.

  The video began playing immediately. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad…

  Her eyes widened. Her cheeks flamed. Her entire body throbbed as though she’d swallowed a bucket of jalapeños. Raw.

  Trent Mason was hung.

  Also, she’d never realized a woman’s body could bend like that.

  The video went on and on and on, the sounds of two people going at it like a pair of enthusiastic, horny rhinos echoing in the small room. He hadn’t had the tattoo across his back then, although there was one on his hip right below one well-defined oblique. Young Mason’s body wasn’t as bulky, though he’d been built even then. The Army must’ve chiseled away any remaining fat.

  When Janelle looked up, Mason’s expression was contorted with emotion. Pain. Pleasure. Sadness. It struck her that he might not feel as casual about the video as he let on.

  She fumbled with the keyboard until the video stopped. “I don’t know why anyone would be into that…that dirty stuff. I don’t understand the appeal.”

  When Janelle looked up again, his eyes were locked on her. Hot emotion seethed in those dark depths, but his voice was even and cool when he spoke.

  “Heard Penny say a lot of things, not one of them a complaint.”

  Fair enough. Janelle swallowed and clicked the window closed. The blonde woman had been pretty into everything he’d been doing to her. Then again, she was a porn actress. They had different standards, or something. Bad Penny done a fair number of pulse-revving porny things to Mason, too.

  “You actually enjoyed doing it?” She was trying to play it cool, but she had no idea what the social protocol was here. Everything she said came out as an insult, when she was equal parts mortified and dying of curiosity.

  “Didn’t hear me complaining either, did you?”

  His phone beeped, and he rolled over on the bed as he gave her a very good look at his taut behind. Along with an excuse not to respond.

  “Nice little girl from the ‘burbs, educated, good family. I bet missionary sex once a week was all there was to it.” He shot the words over his shoulder, casually insulting.

  The barb hit home. “Some of us are happy to be with the person we care about and don’t need to go looking for distractions. I like it sweet and gentle. Besides, at least I didn’t wind up in a porn video on the internet.”

  You may well end up in a porn video on the internet.

  “It’s a sex tape. There’s a difference. It’s meant for personal enjoyment, not public consumption,” Trent shot back lazily.

  “Either way. It’s sick.” She picked up her bag. She’d made a mistake, but he’d done the same thing and more, on purpose. If he was going to be a dick, he didn’t get the benefit of the doubt. Teasing her about her sex life was just mean. No, she’d never had anything like what he’d done in that video, and it made Janelle uncomfortable. How many bad decisions did she have to make before she learned her lesson? Mason wasn’t the nice guy he’d seemed.

  “Where are you going?” Mason demanded. Trent. A name like a curse, hard in the mouth, easy to spit when angry, like she was now. Trent.

  “I’ll take my chances with the cops,” she declared, desperate to get away from her second hotel room catastrophe of the day. This time, he didn’t try to stop her.

  Instead, he went to the computer and opened the window she’d used to view her own unwitting sex tape. He hit play.

  Janelle got the message loud and clear. Don’t you dare look down on me. “Turn it off.”

  The sound stopped immediately.

  “I know exactly how badly a leaked sex tape can screw up your life, Janie. Going to the cops won’t protect you, and it’ll invite all kinds of questions about how he came into possession of it. I don’t think you want their noses up in your business. With a little time, I can help you neutralize the threat. Everything goes back to the way it was before. You can go back to wherever you’re from—“

  “Florida.”

  “Right. You go back to Florida, get on your feet, keep digging out of your student loan debt, and move on with your life. Put this whole thing behind you.”

  He closed the computer. A knock at the door startled Janelle so badly that her shoulder bag slid down her arm and snagged on her elbow.

  “Your choice.” Then he moved to answer it.

  5

  “Everything okay, Sergeant?” Olivia asked when he cracked the door but didn’t fully open it.

  “Yes. Come in, Captain.” Reliving the memories of that video and Janelle’s subsequent cool dismissal had jackhammered Mason’s nerves into pieces.

  Olivia’s bright yellow dress, blue enameled jewelry, and blue shoes set off her bronze skin. She wore her hair long
er now, in thick, manicured ringlets that spilled to her shoulders. It was still weird to see his former commanding officer in anything but fatigues or business suits.

  She held out a green ticket. “Dinner is served.”

  “Thanks, Olivia. I appreciate your bailing us out.”

  “Is this the stray you picked up?” she asked, her eyes darting to Janelle.

  “Janie, yeah.”

  His uninvited, unwanted guest shot him an irritated glare and stepped forward to offer her hand. “Pleased to meet you. Thank you for feeding me. Mason is helping me while I try to get my wallet and phone back. As soon as I do, I’ll be on my way.”

  Olivia’s dark eyes darted between the two of them. “Mhm. Well. I hope you brought business casual attire for the next few days.”

  Janelle’s shoulders went even more rigid than they’d been a moment before. Despite his annoyance, Trent almost reached over to rub away the stress. He’d pushed her hard. Maybe too hard.

  “I hadn’t packed for that kind of trip,” Janie responded after a moment.

  Olivia shook her head, a small movement that spoke volumes about her opinion of the situation. “I brought an extra jacket if you need to borrow it. It’ll be a little big in the shoulders. I still have Army arms.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I’d want someone to help my daughter if she were in trouble. Stick with Mace. He’s good people, no matter what anyone tells you. Including himself.”

  “Reassuring to know. Thanks again for dinner. And the jacket.”

  Trent closed the door on Olivia’s bright back, leaving him alone with Janelle a semi-erect dick which had nothing to do with the unexpected trip down memory lane.

  He hadn’t been with a woman in years, and not only because he hadn’t had much opportunity. They’d been the wrong kind of opportunities, that’s all. Women who’d seen the stupid video he never would have made if he hadn’t been high out of his fucking mind and believed, not unreasonably, that he was up for anything at any time.