by Cat Johnson
“She met Maria through her lesbian girlfriend Elena, she brought me to a gay bar where she knew the bartender by name, the last person she dated was named Whitney, like in Houston and she’s been to a sperm bank to research having a baby.” Troy ticked off what he deemed as his indisputable proof on his fingers, one by one.
“Whoa. First, let me get over the image of you in a gay bar. Then, let me remind you that she was sucking face, I’ll assume willingly, with you last night. If I were a lawyer, I’d tell you that all your evidence that she’s gay is circumstantial.”
Troy shook his head adamantly. “No, way. I’m not wrong about this.” He sighed. “Believe me, I wish I was.”
“Do you really? I don’t think so. I think you avoid getting serious with women, all women all the time, and this is just another excuse.”
Troy frowned. “When did this become a therapy session? And what do you know about women anyway? You’re married.”
Antonio laughed. “That’s a statement that could only come from a single guy. Believe me, buddy, you think you know women until you have to actually live with one. Then a whole strange new world opens up. A world filled with hormones and bikini waxes.”
Troy laughed, but then asked his friend, more serious than he’d ever been, “And? Is it all worth it?”
Antonio smiled. “Yeah, every moment.”
In Maria’s apartment, Amy paced restlessly. What had happened? Why was Troy kissing her like there was no tomorrow one moment and literally running out the door and acting all cold the next? It was definitely possible that he did have a girlfriend and that thought sucked big time. But what would suck even more would be if he just plain didn’t like her.
The ringing of the phone jolted her out of her brooding. She answered it with the irrational hope it might be Troy.
“Hey, Amy. We’re finally docked after a day at sea and I just wanted to check on how you and Taz were doing.” Maria sounded cheerful and relaxed even as Amy’s world was being turned upside down by the fireman next door.
“Taz?” Amy searched her brain. Who the hell was Taz?
“Yeah. That cat of mine hasn’t spilled any coffee in your laptop yet, has he? Keep an eye on him. You know Taz has a habit of doing that.” Maria laughed.
“Oh, yeah. No. He and I have an understanding. He stays away from my things, I stay away from his.” Amy glanced over and noticed the empty cat bowl. She scurried over to fill it with dry food before Maria somehow sensed she was neglecting her pet sitting duties.
“Listen, before I lose you. I totally forgot before I left to mail in the RSVP for Brad and Alyssa’s wedding. You remember Brad, right? He’s the guy that rescued my manuscript from my laptop after the coffee incident last year. The invite should be right on the desk next to my computer. Could you just fill in that I’ll be attending with Elena and pop it in the mail for me?”
Amy walked over to the desk and picked up the embossed large white invitation. She ran her finger lightly over the words. “Today I Marry My Friend. Bradley Montgomery Morgan and Alyssa Marie Jones request the honor of your presence…”
“Amy?”
“Yeah, I’m here. Sorry, I was just looking for it on the desk. I found it. I’ll mail it for you.” Amy wiped her eyes.
“Great. Thanks.”
“Um, Maria. Can I ask you a quick question?”
“Shoot.”
“What’s up with your neighbor Troy? Does he have a girlfriend or anything?”
“Ha! I told Elena he was your type. I wanted to introduce you two and she said you wouldn’t be interested. And no, no girlfriend that I know of. I’ve never even seen a girl in that apartment. And he is the nicest guy you’ll ever meet. So go for it.”
That was her intention, if Troy was willing. That was the big question. Was he? “I will definitely think about it. Thanks, Maria.”
It took all afternoon to gather the courage, but Amy finally stood at Troy’s door and raised her hand almost to the bell. Then she chickened out and ran back to Maria’s apartment, closing the door quietly behind her. She didn’t know why she was being such a sissy.
She knew Troy was alone because she’d heard his door open and close about an hour ago. She’d heard him and Antonio say goodbye and heard male-sounding footsteps walk down the hall. She hadn’t been listening, really. The walls here were just really thin.
Damn it. The guy had given her the most mind-blowing kiss she’d ever had and she was afraid to go over and talk? Her little lecture to herself carried her all the way across the hall again where she actually rang the bell this time and then it was too late to run away. But when the door opened, it wasn’t Troy who answered.
“Antonio. Um, hi.” She frowned. “Is Troy home?”
Antonio’s face broke into a huge smile. “Well hello again, Amy. I’m sorry, Troy had to go back into work.”
“Oh. I thought he had until tomorrow morning off.” She tried to sound casual and not like a stalker who’d memorized Troy’s schedule, even though she kind of had.
Antonio raised an eyebrow. “You’re right, he did. But one of the guys came down with the flu and went home early and Troy was top of the list to be called back.”
“Oh.” She hoped he didn’t see her disappointment. She was counting on having one more night with Troy before he had to go back to the firehouse for another shift.
“I’ll tell him you stopped by though.”
“No. Really, that’s fine. No need.” She fought the disappointment that he hadn’t come over to tell her he was going back to work early, not that he had any reason to inform her of anything, but she definitely did not want him to know she stopped by.
“Are you sure? Because I really think he’d be happy to know that you stopped by and I’m sure he’ll be very sorry he missed you.”
Was Antonio trying to tell her something? Had Troy told him that he liked her? Amy stopped those thoughts dead in their tracks and nearly laughed at her ridiculousness. She felt like a middle-school girl. Maybe she could give Antonio a note and he could give it to Troy in study hall.
She shook her head. “That’s okay. Thanks anyway. Enjoy your game.”
The phone at Ladder Company #3 rang, the volume of the ringer set loud enough it reached the far corners of the massive building. When no one else bothered to answer it, Troy dropped the weights he was lifting with an annoyed huff of breath and grabbed it. “Hello?”
“Troy, buddy. I’ve been thinking about your Amy.”
“She’s not my Amy.” He should never have told Antonio anything. Now he wouldn’t even be able to get her off his mind at work, not with Antonio bringing her up constantly.
“Yeah okay, whatever you say. Anyway, I’d like to propose a little wager. My twenty bucks against yours says she’s not a lesbian.”
“No way. No bet.” Troy shook his head adamantly.
“No because you’re not feeling so sure about that anymore?” Antonio asked.
“No because this is serious, not some joke.”
“Well, I’m glad you realize this is serious, because guess who just came ringing your bell?”
Chapter 6
Amy’s disappointment at missing Troy stayed with her through the rest of the night. She walked into work in a pretty foul mood Monday morning.
She kept her head down and tried to slip past Henri’s desk, but it didn’t work. When he hopped up and followed her into her office, she decided the best defense was a strong offense. “So, have we recovered from our hangover?”
“Yes.” He screwed up his face at her. “And did we have a good weekend with Troy the hunky fireman? Oh, wait. Don’t bother answering that. I can tell just by looking at the expression on your face. You didn’t get any.”
She spun around, hands on hips. “What makes you assume that?”
“Because if hunky Troy had given you what you need, you’d be in a good mood and you’re not. In fact, judging by how long it’s been since your last good mood, I’d peg your dry spell at well over ten months
now.”
The fact that his estimate was pretty damn close didn’t make her any less angry. She changed the subject. “And what about you? Last I heard you and Kenneth were fighting.”
“Haven’t you ever heard of make-up sex? See, look how happy I am.” He waved his hand with a flourish to indicate his own face.
Henri was bitchy whether he was happy or not, so it really was hard to tell. At least someone got some action this weekend.
“Good for you, and since you’re so cheerful, you can go through the slush pile today and bring me any manuscript submissions you think are worth my reading.”
He groaned. “I’m so tired of reading the same old crap. Whoever coined the phrase ‘history repeats itself’ must have been a historical romance editor.”
“Historical romances continue to sell. What can I say?”
“But do they all have to be the same?”
“So tell me what kind of book you would like to see us publish,” she held up one hand to stop him, “keeping in mind the preferences of our readers and the fact that we don’t publish bondage and bestiality and any other sick stuff you may have on your mind.”
He wrinkled his nose at her insult but answered anyway. “First of all, there should be more gay characters. There were more queens—and I’m not talking the crown wearing kind—in court back in jolly old England than there are at any Liza Minnelli concert today. That’s just historical fact, sweetie. Second, why can’t historical romances be funny? Shakespeare was funny. Not the tragedies of course, but his other stuff was hysterical. And why does it always have to be about the heroine? Males have problems. Males have feelings. Why can’t more authors write from the hero’s point of view?” Henri concluded his list and stood facing her, waiting for a response that she didn’t have.
She finally nodded. “You’re right. Everything you said is absolutely true.”
“I’m right?” He took an exaggerated step back. “I’m going to go circle this date on my calendar in red.”
Then he was gone and she was glad because she couldn’t get the thoughts in her head down fast enough.
Amy spun her chair to face the computer as she dialed her boss’s number. She cradled the phone on one shoulder while her fingers flew over the keys. “Morris. Hey, it’s Amy. I have an idea to pitch to you. Do you have time to meet with me later this week? I need a couple of days to get the presentation together… Eight a.m.? Great. Thanks.”
She looked down at what she’d typed on the screen and smiled.
A Damsel in Distress
By Aimee’ Henri
A humorous tale of chivalry as told by the knight who lived it
Cast of Characters:
Sir Thomas- the chivalrous knight who can’t say ‘no’ to a female in need
Lady Anne- the accident-prone heroine in need of constant saving
Lord Herbert- her flamboyant gay uncle and official court matchmaker
Could she sell her boss on a new line of historical comedies? And oh my God, what if he actually agreed to launch it with the book she’d just thought of?
Amy wasn’t going to immediately tell her boss that Aimee’ Henri was her pseudonym so he would give her an honest opinion. She would just let him assume the manuscript had come out of the slush pile. And of course, she was planning on giving Henri credit too, hence the last half of the pseudonym. It was his definitive opinion that had spurred her into action.
She may not be able to control any of the men in her real life, but she could sure as hell control them on paper. This going to be fun.
~
Amy ran home from work that evening and immediately set to work on the book. She wrote during every spare moment she could find. Over the next few days she didn’t even allow herself time to obsess about the situation with Troy, at least not too much. She did listen every time there were footsteps in the hall, but it never seemed to be him.
Before she knew it, it was Wednesday. She had a book release party that evening and the meeting with her boss first thing the next morning. The presentation was complete and she was thrilled with how it had turned out. She had a synopsis and first three chapters ready.
She went to the release party with Henri feeling great and excited about her job for the first time in quite a while. When she arrived home, or rather at Maria’s apartment at about nine from the party, she was still on a high on top of being a little tipsy from the two glasses of champagne in which she’d indulged. Fumbling the keys in the lock, she dropped them and her briefcase loudly on the floor and then let loose a string of obscenities worthy of any sailor. She was in too good a mood to want to have to fight with this door again.
“Problem?”
Amy spun around to see Troy leaning against his open doorframe smiling at her and looking extremely hot in navy sweats and a white T-shirt.
“You’re home.” Her heart pounding, she felt the blush creep into her cheeks.
“Yup.”
“Oh, good for you.”
Troy stepped into the hall and picked up the keys and briefcase. He glanced up and down the length of her. She self-consciously smoothed the black wrap dress she had changed into for the party. His eyes stayed glued to her black leather knee-high stiletto boots.
“Where are you coming from?” he asked, still holding her stuff.
“Book party. A work thing.”
“I hope you didn’t drive.” He eyed her closely. She could only imagine how she appeared—glassy eyes, flushed cheeks. How could she tell him it was more likely the effect he had on her, not the alcohol making her appear this way?
“I only had two glasses of champagne and no, I didn’t drive. Henri drove and dropped me off right outside the front door so I didn’t even walk alone from my car. Okay, Daddy?”
He looked a little embarrassed. “Sorry, I worry too much. Comes from having a sister, I guess.”
“Don’t apologize.” She took one step forward, Maria’s words in the back of her mind. The nicest guy you will ever meet. No girlfriend. With the boldness that alcohol provides she reached up and touched his face. “Thank you for worrying about me. It’s nice. I like it.”
She raised herself up on her toes and brushed a soft kiss across his mouth.
Troy’s throat worked as his swallowed. “Amy. I don’t think you realize what you’re doing.”
“I know exactly what I’m doing. I told you I only had two glasses—”
“No.” He closed his eyes for a second and breathed in deep. “I mean to me.”
She let her hand drop from his cheek to his chest. “Troy, what are you trying to say?”
“That when you stand so close, when you touch me like that, it makes me want… to do more with you. And I know that’s not what you want, so please stop.” He spoke quietly as if the words pained him.
“But I do want more.” She licked her suddenly dry lips. “I was afraid you didn’t.”
His gaze dropped to her mouth, then came back up. “Amy. I’ve wanted you from the first moment I saw you. It’s just, how can this work?”
“Easy. Let me show you.” With both hands splayed on his chest, she pushed him slowly backward into his apartment and shut the door behind them.
Her keys and briefcase crashed to floor for the second time that night when Troy dropped them, then pressed her back against the door. She gasped for breath as his mouth took hers. She almost cried out in protest when he broke the kiss.
“Are you sure about this? Because if you want me to stop, you better tell me now.” He was breathless and nearly pleading.
“Don’t you dare stop.” She pulled his head back down to hers.
He let out a groan and lifted her effortlessly with two strong arms. Troy carried her to the bedroom where he braced her against the wall and kissed her some more. Her dress rode up around her thighs as she hooked her boots around his waist.
Shifting her weight to the side, he supported her bottom with one hand while the fingers of his other hand slipped beneath her pa
nties and plunged into her at the same time his teeth nipped her neck. She pressed her head back against the wall in ecstasy.
The man’s hands were incredible. Not only did he know where the G-spot was, but he also knew what to do with it. In minutes she was panting and breathless and begging him to take her.
Still holding her like she weighed nothing, he carried her to the bed and deposited her there. In two long strides he was at the bathroom door where he flung open the top drawer of the vanity, grabbed a strip of wrapped condoms and was back on the bed before she had gotten anything more than her dress off.
She reached for her boots and he stopped her.
“Leave them on.” He looked at her matching black lace thong and bra. “Leave all the rest of it on.”
Perhaps Troy wasn’t as nice as Maria thought. He was actually a bit naughty. Amy liked this animalistic, sex-crazed side of him. She nodded but grabbed his waistband and pulled at it. “Fine, but I want you naked.”
“That I can do.” Troy wasted no time and was naked in no time, with only his impressive erection covered by a condom.
In spite of his slightly kinky request regarding her boots and lingerie, once Troy slid her panties to the side and entered her, he made love to her tenderly with long slow strokes and gentle kisses. She watched him move, braced above her, his muscular arms shaking with the effort of holding the bulk of his weight off her body. She saw the concentration on his face as he squeezed his eyes shut.
She simply just enjoyed being claimed by him until she felt her orgasm begin to build. Then she raised her hips off the bed. “Harder. Oh, please, Troy. Harder.”
An expression of relief crossed his face as he nodded.
As good as he was slow and gentle, Troy was even better rough and fast. They came together with an intensity that rocked Amy to the core.
She must have fallen into the exhausted sleep of utter satisfaction because Amy awoke sometime during the night, cold on top of the covers with the lights still on. As much as she tried not to wake Troy, they were so intertwined it was impossible. When she moved he woke too, kissing her sleepily on the forehead before stumbling into the bathroom. She took the opportunity to ditch the boots and lingerie she still wore and snuggled naked under the comforter as he returned to bed and switched off the light.