by Brit Blaise
"But people can see inside the Jeep. We're coming into a town."
"I'll keep moving fast enough no one will know." He slid his hand up her leg. "You forgot your underwear again, woman."
Di wanted to reply, but he touched her clit and she couldn't speak.
"Spread your legs wider."
She willingly did as he asked and watched his hand moving against her. "What has happened to the old Di Stowe? Ohmigod, this feels unbelievable. Ohmigod."
"No, I'm mortal, but thanks for the compliment."
Di opened her legs wider against his hand as the pressure built. The sight of his large hand working his magic electrified her. Each circle of his finger took her higher, until she was perched on an invisible cliff. "Yes!"
"Red light."
"Yes."
He started to pull his hand away and she grabbed it back.
"Red light," he repeated.
"So what?" she hissed as she strained against him.
"Okay." He pulled to a stop and leaned over to kiss her as his finger took her over the edge. She exploded into a thousand pieces of tingling bubbles of pleasure Once. Twice. And unbelievably a third time. She screamed into his mouth.
The aftershocks kept coming, but the sound of clapping and cheering interrupted her concentration. Di pulled her lips free to look over to her right where a convertible had pulled alongside them. Four teenage boys leered at her salaciously, while making several lascivious remarks.
"I told you we were coming to a red light," Jake whispered into her ear.
"Just go."
"Can't. It's a long light. Do you want me to cause an accident?"
"You did this on purpose. Is this the thanks I get for giving you two blow jobs?"
"Lady, you're killing us."
"Why can't I find someone like you?" one of then shouted.
Di looked over at the boys. "Check out the local library. Women who read books give the best blow jobs."
One of the boys gave her the thumbs up just as Jake hit the gas.
"Good recovery." Jake gave her a salute. "I'm going to turn around and head back to Kauai. It seems neither of us is too much interested in the drive. I'd like you to come home and spend the night with me, what's left of it. I want to wake up in the morning with you next to me."
"I'd like that, too," her mouth said, but her head was telling her to slow down. She might not want to believe it, but her heart was at risk.
Jake made a U-turn and they got caught at the same red light again. He leaned over and took her chin into his hand. "I'm fall—" He kissed her.
Di wanted to ask what he was about to say, but in the fraction of the second it took to formulate the question, the kiss changed to something she'd never experienced. He deepened it. Pulled her against his chest.
Jake kissed her like he wanted her to remember this kiss for the rest of her boring life. He awakened a part of her she'd only dreamed about. Love floated out of her heart and into the kiss.
It was so real she gasped and Jake groaned. Did he feel it too?
Somewhere the sound of a car horn stopped them. Di pushed away with the knowledge she'd just changed forever with that kiss in the middle of the road. No matter what happened to her in the future, she'd just given her heart away.
But it was just her heart she was risking, wasn't it?
* * * * *
"Sit still."
"Don't yell at me, Raul." Di nervously twisted the plastic apron she wore.
"Honey, it's going to take all the magic I have to whip you into shape. You're a mess. Your eyes are so puffy, they make you look ten years older."
"Just what every woman wants to hear. I didn't get much sleep last night."
"Tell me something I didn't already know. Like, did you tell Jake you think Boyd has something to do with you mother's paintings hanging in the gallery?"
"No. I don't know that for sure and I didn't want to spoil everything. I still haven't heard from my mother or Boyd."
"Will you quit wiggling? You're already late."
"Can you drive me again?"
"Honey, you know I will. I wouldn't miss this night for anything."
Di looked up at Raul's reflection in the mirror. "Do you know something I don't?"
"Now would I keep anything important from you? Sit still and let me finish."
By the time she arrived at the hotel where the gallery had rented a room for her speech, she was twenty minutes late.
The gallery owner rushed out of the room to stop her. "This way." He grabbed her arm and propelled her in the direction she'd just come. "There's a door by the stage for you. Where have you been? You're late. People were worried."
Di wanted to ask, "What people?" Jake might wonder, but she didn't know anyone else.
Just then Jake came barreling down the hallway straight in her direction. His face twisted into a tight frown as he drew nearer. "I don't care what Boyd has done. I want you. I think I've fallen in love with you. No, damn it, I know I have. I'll kill him if I have to this time."
This time? What did that mean? Kill Boyd? "You love me?"
Jake’s face softened. "I love you."
"We don't have time for this nonsense," the gallery owner insisted. "You have a room full of people waiting for you."
"I have a room full of people waiting for me," she repeated.
"You have me waiting for you, too."
Di walked through the door and toward a podium in the middle of the stage. He loves me? Loves me, Di Stowe?
"Hello, everyone, my name is Di Stowe and I'm here to speak about... Mom?"
What in the world?
How?
Di stared at her mother sitting in the front row not believing her eyes. No way! Her mother never left the house, despite being perfectly capable of getting around with her cane.
The sound of a curtain opening behind her made her look around. Di stared at her worst nightmare come to life. "Mom, how could you?"
Behind her, positioned on easels of various heights, were a dozen more paintings executed by her long deceased patriarch. Not just any paintings. Di wanted to die. How could her mother do this? And so publicly?
The sound of her mother's cane on the wooden floor drew Di's attention from the horror show. By the time she looked back to the audience, her mother was by her side at the podium.
"My daughter is displeased to have this exhibit go public, but it's high time. I've allowed her prudish temperament to persuade me to keep these treasures under lock and key. But no more. These paintings and others painted by my great grandfather need the audience they deserve. If any of you are offended, use the door at the rear."
Di expected a mass exodus, but no one got up to leave. At the same time, the majority of those in attendance started to applaud. Loudly. And they didn't stop.
After the applause died down, Di looked up from her strappy high heels to see Jake standing off to the side of the stage. His face was unreadable.
"I think I have some explaining to do," she said into the microphone. She may be speaking to an entire audience, but she looked at Jake and her words were for his ears alone. She could care less what the rest of the world thought at this point. Especially since he'd told her he loved her.
"I grew up in a household where the human form, male and female, was on display in every nook and cranny. My great-great grandfather's paintings are very popular, but what most people don't know is he painted dozens and dozens of nudes we've not made available to the public.
“In all honesty, it's my fault. I didn't want people to think badly of him. One of the women he painted in the nude was a local Hawaiian woman, and it caused a big rift in his marriage."
Her mother inclined her head to access the microphone. "That island woman was Boyd Hatcher's great-great grandmother. He came across some old love letters written by Theodore Raduski and contacted me. That's when I realized, with his help, these paintings were not just a part of our family history, but they are Boyd's and this island's hist
ory.
“So the paintings will go on tour. Boyd is now the proud owner of two of them, and he'll see to exhibits for the rest of them."
Boyd walked onto the stage to join them. Di kept her eyes on Jake, expecting him to walk off in huff. However, he didn't appear to be angry. "The other paintings here will be offered for sale by the gallery, with the stipulation they not leave the island. These paintings should find homes here where they originated."
Di listened to mother in awe. Her mother was right. The paintings should be here, instead of locked in the attic. What had she been thinking all these years when she refused to let the public know of their existence? She'd lived a life of poverty to avoid bringing them to light.
"Now I'll let my daughter talk."
Di stumbled through her canned presentation. When it was time to leave the stage and mingle, she wanted to slip out unnoticed. What would Jake say now? Would he still love her?
Jake headed toward her as she stepped away from the podium. At the same time, Boyd and her mother walked toward her from the opposite side. Di did not want to be in the middle of Jake and Boyd.
"I promise I didn't know about Boyd's involvement," she said to Jake, searching his face for evidence he believed her.
"This will be some story to tell our grandkids."
It took a second for Jake's words to register. "Our grandkids?"
"This is anti-climactic." Boyd huffed and rolled his eyes.
"Not now Boyd." Jake's tone said he meant business. "I need to ask you to marry me now because I have a feeling, when we finally get you to part with all the artwork you've deemed inappropriate, you might begin to wonder if I married you for your money."
"You call that a proposal?"
"I said, not now, Boyd!"
Jake got down on one knee. "Will you honor me, will you make me whole, and will you spend the rest of your life with me as my wife? Please?"
Di never dreamed she'd hear these words from Jake. She wanted to hear them with all her heart. "I love you. I have from the first time we made love on the plane. Yes, I'll marry you."
"First time on the plane?" her mother squeaked. "Who are you and what have you done with my daughter?"
* * * * *
Two weeks later
Di nervously twisted her engagement ring as she watched for the limo. Jake had called to say her house was in sight. When the sleek black car pulled in front of the house, she started to sweat.
As she watched him coil out of the back without waiting on the driver, her doubts evaporated. It will be okay.
He took the front walk nearly at a run.
It will be okay.
"He's here," she heard from behind her.
"Boyd?" Jake walked onto the front porch and frowned.
Di winced. She'd wanted to prepare Jake for Boyd's presence.
"I'm staying with Di's mom until everything is catalogued and tagged. After you two are married, my work just begins."
"Catalogued?"
"Maybe I should've warned you first." Di swung the door wide and stepped to the side for Jake to see.
"Holy shit!"
"Isn't this a collector's dream come true?" Boyd asked Jake.
Jake's eyes were as wide as the breast on the painting next to his head. "This looks...I'm not certain I can put it into words."
"My ancestors have all been interested in the human form."
"In every medium? And this much of it?"
Di didn't want to think about how this must look to Jake. This house and this horror of an art collection were the bane of her existence. And he'd only scratched the surface, so to speak, with the view from the foyer. Some of the upstairs rooms in the drafty, old house were filled to capacity with erotic artwork.
She'd done her best to keep it confined, but her mother had insisted on dragging it back out again.
Jake moaned. "I'm finally beginning to understand how hard it must've been for you."
"Bringing a friend home was out of question. Inviting anyone inside gave me hives."
"We'll let Boyd"—Jake stopped speaking to laugh—"take care of this." Jake laughed louder.
Boyd huffed. "Laugh if you will. I'm in paradise here."
"I wouldn't wish this on an enemy." Jake laughed until he was holding his side.” And you don’t have a clue what it means to be in Paradise.”
"You won't be laughing when your new wife has to look after my house for me while I'm here caring for her mother, neighbor."
Jake laughed louder.
Di watched the exchange with trepidation. It almost seemed as the two of them had resolved their differences. "If it wasn't for Boyd, I'd never have met you."
Jake pulled her into his arms. "I always knew Boyd would make up for breaking up my first engagement."
"That's what your feud has really been about?"
Boyd threw his arm around Jake. "I knew that woman wasn't right for Jake, even if he couldn't see it."
"But did you have to sleep with her?"
"I figured you'd be pissed for a long time so I should get something out of it. I just didn't think you'd stay pissed. Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to find Di for you?"
"Excuse me?"
Di turned back toward the doorway to see the elderly lady from the plane. What?
"Is Rachel ready to go to lunch?" the woman asked. "I nearly cancelled. The dog got hold of my teeth again last night."
"Who are you? Are you stalking us?"
"Goodness, no. I went to school with your mother. I'm one of the few people she's confided in over the years. When she wanted me watch out after you, how could I refuse?"
"You went to Hawaii to watch out for me?"
"You nearly gave me a heart attack when I realized you were boinking a famous author on the plane. You aren't at all what I expected."
"Boinking?" What had happened to her boring life? Now Di lived from minute to minute wondering what would happen next.
Just then Jake swept her into his arms. "Tell me I only have to carry you one flight of stairs to your room."
"That's not very gallant," Boyd complained.
"Not now, Boyd," Jake warned.
Di sighed. "Tell Mom I'm upstairs boinking if she needs me."
The End
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The Virginia Model-Logues
by Brit Blaise
Chapter One
November 10th
Dear Diary,
I’ve decided to do whatever is necessary to survive. I have an interview for a modeling job today, broken leg and all. Oh, how the mighty have fallen. My previous life of glamour and luxury as a top model is now just a distant and bittersweet memory. If this is my Karma, I can’t figure out what I’ve done to deserve it. One can only imagine what I’ll have to do to get a gig as a vagina model. This isn’t going to end well for me…
* * * * *
“Please have a seat.” The cute little receptionist with a trendy Goth-Emo haircut gave a surfer hang-loose, wagging gesture. Her neon-purple bejeweled thumb and pinkie rings matched the streaks in her hair. “We’re running a bit behind.”
Gina touched her fingertips to her lopsided wig, straightening it with a quick tug before darting a furtive glance around the crowded waiting room. There was a single empty chair in the corner.
She had to make a decision fast. Stay…and eat tomorrow, or leave, only to have her prestigious family finally discover the dreadful truth about her financial state. She was a dismal failure, a loser with a capital L.
She’d rather become a bag lady than go to her well-to-do family and tell them she was penniless. She’d been to enough cattle calls to ace this job. Right?
Gina pivoted on her crutches and headed for the chair before she lost her nerve. How bad could it be? She’d walked the runway for the most prestigious fashion houses in NYC, Paris, Milan and London.
Back stage realities had long ago stripped away any modesty she’d once had. How hard would it be to lie on a table and spread her
legs? Five thousand dollars would come in handy.
Hell, three dollars would come in handy.
Gina had her subway card with six trips left on it. If she didn’t get this job, she’d be walking soon. That would be the demise of her last pair of designer heels, the only pair of expensive shoes she hadn’t sold or hocked.
Gina sat down and leaned her crutches against the wall behind her.
“That’s some cast you got there. Are you here for the consumer products job too?”
Gina glanced down at the monstrous cast running from her foot to mid-thigh and then thought about what the woman sitting next to her had said. “Did you say consumer products?” Gina perked up. She’d been afraid the five or so women sitting in the small room were vying for the same job as she.
The two men were a complete mystery. Gina didn’t want to think about what they were doing here. One stared at her blatantly, while the other picked his teeth with a match book cover and read a magazine.
“You haven’t tried a vibrator until you try the Ball-Peenis Hammer 2000.” The woman’s voice rose above the sound of head-banging, glam rock filtering from the sound system. “Now they’re coming out with a new and improved model. I can’t wait to give it a try.”
Gina held her hand in front of her mouth in case anyone could read lips. “And you get paid for—um, using this vibrator? How much do they pay?”
“So you aren’t here for the Ball-Peenis Hammer 3000 trials? The 2000 is to die for. One can only imagine the new and improved model. It’s not so much about getting paid as getting off. They give a pittance to write a review…it’s the free vibrator I’m after.”
“I have an interview to model.”
The curious woman stared pointedly at her cast again.
“Model body parts,” Gina clarified and held her breath, waiting for questions she didn’t want to answer.
“How do you get a job like that? Haven’t I seen you before?”
Not likely. Gina had worn an ugly blonde wig and dark glasses large enough to cover half her face. No way could anyone recognize her. “Have we met? I don’t remember.” Gina reached for a magazine on the table in front of them hoping the woman could take a hint.
Narrowing her expressive eyes, the woman leaned closer to examine Gina. “I don’t think so, but something about you looks familiar. Are you famous?”