by Mia Caldwell
Bombshell
By Mia Caldwell
Copyright 2015
Dedication
To the abused, battered, and mistreated. This book is for you.
Love is the answer. Stay precious, stay strong, and prevail.
Chapter One
“Wake up, we’re here,” Holly said.
Jana Peters opened her eyes, then grabbed onto the dashboard as Holly’s car bounced off the highway onto the rutted dirt lot. As Holly slowed down, Jana saw that they’d arrived. Peering out through the fogged window, she read the marque above the bar.
Talent Show Tonight!
$500 Grand Prize
Holly brought her car to a stop directly in front of the steps leading to the bar and left the engine idling. This is it, girl. Jana reached for the plastic bag at her feet overstuffed with her performance clothes and tried to summon the courage to get out of the car, but it didn’t come. A couple talking loudly walked by and headed up the steps. Jana watched them move past the smoker’s congregating near the entrance then disappear inside. It was Friday night, so it didn’t surprise her that the parking lot was packed and the crowd inside would be near capacity. She tried not to think about how many people would be watching her, judging her.
“Well, are you getting out?” Holly sounded tense, impatient.
Jana dropped her chin to her chest. She couldn’t disappoint her friend. It was time to suck it up. She nodded and reached for the door handle, pushing it open a few inches. A wave of cold hit her, and it had nothing to do with the chill mountain air outside. Stage freight. She’d battled it her whole life. She loved to sing, alone. Not in front of others. That’s why she’d become a teacher, after all, and not a professional singer, like her mom.
Jana squeezed her eyes shut. Get a grip. This talent show is your only option. Holly’s not going to let you hide out in her apartment forever.
“What’s wrong with you girl, you look white as a white person.”
Pushing away an urge to be sick, Jana sucked in air, then unbuckled herself. “I’m alright, just pre-show jitters.”
Once Holly’s car was out of site, Jana squared her shoulders and climbed the wooden steps, as she raised the hood of her jacket, and dropped her hair over her face. The place was packed with people, which Jana considered a small comfort. For once, she didn’t stand out. In one corner of the room, a line of people waited to register for the talent show. She took her spot, keeping a safe distance from a stout man with an accordion strapped onto his belly in front of her. She kept her head down and her thoughts to herself as she waited her turn.
When she got to the front of the line, a joyless middle-aged woman with leathery skin and a scowl to match snatched the two twenty dollar bills out of her hand and stuffed them crossly into a two gallon plastic jar. Jana felt a rush of excitement at the sight of all that money in one place. If she could win the contest, then the money would be hers.
The sour faced woman scanned the form indifferently, then appeared to smell something unpleasant under her nose. “Bombshell?” she said.
Jana lifted her chin and squared her shoulders. Since she’d ask Holly to spread a rumor around town that she’d left town to help a sick relative. She didn’t want to put down her real name on the registration form, so she used the nick name Jimmy had given her. She looked the women straight in the eye and held her gaze. “Yes, that’s correct.”
The women gave a disdainful smirk, but blinked first. Jana pushed past her and handed him her sheet music to the man behind the piano. An eye brow shot up as he stared curiously at the hand-written arrangement inked in her exacting and careful font. She assumed he’d never been asked to play an arrangement written on sheets torn from a yellow legal pad before, but she wasn’t going to let that stop her. She held her head high and didn’t flinch. Finally, he let out a little laugh and smiled.
“Sure, I can do this, but you better hurry up.”
Jana gave him a questioning glance. He motioned her to step closer. She did. He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Old fish face over there loves to disqualify contestants by making them miss their queue, so if you’re planning on changing clothes - don’t dilly dally. She doesn’t give refunds.”
“Thank you,” Jana said. She scrambled through the crowds and prayed there’d be a place to change. The backstage was just a store room filled crates of liquor and ten or so contestants. Jana went to the ladies room and squeezed herself into the tiny stall.
By the time she’d managed to pry Holly’s too small dress over her full-size body, and then strap on Holly’s size ten dancing shoes on her size eleven feet while bouncing on one leg and holding onto the top of the stall door – she was completely out of breath. The strap dug painfully into her heel, but she didn’t care. She welcomed it. Pain would help her focus.
Once out of the stall, she stuffed her jeans and street clothes into the plastic trash bag, the bent down to look into the mirror. She touched up her makeup, then tried to fix her hair. Hopeless. She reached into the bag and pulled out Jimmy’s wig. She shook it out and admired the soft blonde Marilyn Monroe curls. Outside her door, she heard the muffled sound of someone at the microphone. They were starting soon – she needed to get into the back stage and be ready. They could call her first.
She held the wig up to her face. It seemed wrong, somehow, disingenuous, dishonest to put a blonde wig on a black girl. She shook her head. She didn’t have time for this. Just do it. She pulled it on.
The wig was from Jimmy’s drag queen collection. It was expensive, he kept reminding her, and she could understand why. It was quite stunning, soft real hair. Jana admired the way the light curls fell against her deep honey brown skin.
After tucking all her black hair out of sight, she took a moment to look at herself. She didn’t recognize herself – it was if she was looking at someone else. All fear she’d been expecting to overtake her at that moment had vanished with her black hair. Jana Peters wasn’t about to go on stage – Bombshell was. And Bombshell didn’t suffer from stage freight.
Throwing her head back confidentially, Bombshell walked into the back stage area, prepared to win the competition.
Chapter Two
On the way to his fishing cabin, Merrick Flynn stopped at the large country bar to get something for dinner. He knew his cabin wouldn’t be stocked with much, since he’d neglected to inform the new caretakers that he was coming for the weekend.
The nightclub was humming and quite packed. He wanted to sit at a table and not at the bar while he ate, but all the tables were taken. He was about to order his food to go, when he spotted some people leaving a table near the front of the room. He snagged it and put his jacket on the back of his chair, then looked around for a server.
When she arrived a few moments later, she jutted out one hip and gave him a sexy smile. “Well, hello, handsome,” she said, flipping her hair.
Merrick lifted both eyebrows and gave her the once-over. Pretty, in a hard sort of way, she looked like a girl who worked out and spent a lot of time in a tanning bed. He wondered immediately what she’d be like in his bed, and if she could handle him. “Hello,” he replied, matching her interested tone.
“I haven’t seen you before. Don’t tell me you’re just passing through.”
“I have a fishing cabin. I come around from time to time,” he said, giving her a meaningful glance.
Her eyes flashed knowingly as a sexy smile stretched her tight face. “I like fishing, but only if the fish are big.” On the last words, she leaned over, to get a better glance at his package.
Merric
k’s lips curved into a wicked smile and his voice dropped an octave. “Honey, I’ve got the biggest fish you’ve ever seen.”
A spark of excitement flashed through her eyes, and her lips parted into a curios O shape. He knew that she’d seen the outline of his flaccid, yet impressive member, and he liked the way it affected her.
“Tina! Stop flirting with the customers,” yelled a man’s voice from behind Merrick. Merrick turned his head casually and saw a bartender, glaring at his server.
“Whatever, Sam,” she said.
The server named Tina, stopped flirting long enough to take his order, then she hurried off.
Energized by the unexpected round of flirting, Merrick reconsidered his original plans for the weekend. He’d run off from work without even telling his staff what he was up to, to have a chance to decompress and reevaluate everything in his life. He’d intended to do some fishing and maybe go hiking, and then do some work from the cabin.
He hadn’t thought about another way to decompress. He’d been so busy dealing with one construction or talent crisis after another that he’d seriously neglected his cock. Maybe all he really needed to get unstuck and move forward with his life was to indulge in a weekend of serious fucking. He hoped Tina was as interested as she appeared.
When Tina arrived with his food, he played it cool, thanking her for the food without another fishy innuendo. He’d learned from the best – his younger half-brother Tony, a total player from New Jersey. According to Tony, chicks preferred men who didn’t come off desperate. “Act like you could take them or leave them, and they’ll want to go home with you every time,” he’d say.
“Will that be all?” she said, trying to make him set the hook.
“No, I’m fine.”
Merrick started to take in the rest of the bar, and sensed her falter. He was reeling her in. “Are you sure?” she asked, her voice turning seductive.
Merrick gave a noncommittal shrug, as if to say, “whatever.” Merrick caught the look in her eye as her confidence dropped for a split second, and wondered for a moment if he’d hurt her feelings, gone too far, with his tough guy persona. He resisted the urge to apologize and try and make her feel better and was rewarded when she tossed her hair and made another attempt.
“I mean, I’d like to see you – and catch that fish,” she said winking in a meaningful way in the direction of his lap. That was enough for Merrick to respond. She’d taken the bait and he had her hook, line and sinker. It was time to reel her in.
“Oh, yeah?” he said, lifting one eye brow mischievously, still being careful to control the drag on the line.
“Yeah,” she said a little breathlessly. He saw her small rack heaving behind her tight shirt. “Here, let me give you my number.” She took a napkin from the tray she’d set down on his table and grabbed a pen. As she wrote, she bent from her waist and gave Merrick a perfect view of slight but perky cleavage, and started to write. He didn’t watch what she was writing, because his eyes were glued to the hardening nipples poking against her blouse.
When she was done writing, she stood up, and folded the napkin. She held it out to him, her eyes dancing with excitement. Merrick lifted his hand to take the note, but she whipped her hand away and let the note fall to the ground.
“Whoopsies.” She bent her hand against her chest as if to say, I’m such a clumsy wumsy little girl. Charmed, yet unsure how this game was supposed to be played, Merrick started to lean forward to pick up the note, but she stopped him with an open palm. She dropped down into a deep knee bend and reached for the note herself. But, instead of going for the paper, she put her hand on his knee, and locked eyes with him.
His pulse quickened as he watched her fingertips begin a long slow creep up his leg. He flexed his quads and smiled to himself as she licked her lips.
As her fingers got closer to their target, Merrick felt blood rush to his cock. When her fingers found his rapidly hardening tip farther down the pant leg then most men could boast, he let out an involuntary moan of pleasure, as she let out a squeal of elation, and her eyes went wide.
“Told you,” Merrick whispered.
“Oh, my God,” she replied, not quite in a whisper.
Her breathing was becoming more strained, probably from holding the deep knee bend for so long, but that didn’t stop her eager hand from measuring and squeezing his ever growing length. The more she touched him, the bigger he got, and with each pulse of growth, his jeans become uncomfortable as he watched her eyes bulge. If she was excited now, he wondered how she’d react when she could see it free of his jeans.
Probably the way most of his potential lovers reacted. “Hell, no, I don’t think so, and you’re way too big to fit.”
Merrick caught movement out of the corner of his eye. He was in a public place. Maybe he shouldn’t be doing this? He stiffened and pulled his hips away from the girl as she squeezed and pressed and pulled at his cock through his now unbearably tight jeans.
“Relax,” Tina whispered, “No one’s watching.”
Merrick wanted to believe her. His cock wanted him to believe her. His cock wanted him to lighten up, live a little, and give the girl a chance. But he was still nervous. He leaned forward to grab his drink. Beer at lips, he peered over the rim of the glass trying to see if he was giving a free show. She was right, it appeared, and no one was paying any attention to them.
“See, told you so,” she said.
Sweat broke out on his forehead as she continued to rub him down. She seemed to notice his discomfort inside his jeans. Calmly, she used her free hand to reach for his jacket which hung over the back of his chair. He got the hint and grabbed it, and used it to cover both his lap and her hand.
For a moment, Merrick thought that this might work, the idea of public sex sending even more blood to his growing cock. He lifted his hips and reached between his legs, adjusting his cock. While his hands were down there, he tried to unbutton the top button of his jeans, but she shoved his hand away.
Merrick shrugged and picked up his beer, scanning for possible onlookers as he took a few more drinks. Beside him, her breathing was getting louder. Her one-track mind hadn’t faltered, however, despite the physical strain. One hand continued to work his length while the other attempted to remove the next button.
He’d never tried the public sex thing before, but he was starting to understand the attraction. Just the possibility of getting caught seemed to arouse the shit out of him. His cock throbbed as every drop of blood in his body rushed to the scene of the crime. But, when the second button finally popped free and he felt her cold fingers graze the skin at the top of his boxers, his logical law abiding brain finally took over. Stop, you idiot, you could go to jail for this.
He clamped his fingers around her wrist even as it her hand threatened to disappear into this pants. She shot him a surprised, disappointed look.
“I’m sorry, Tina, not here, not now.”
She shrugged and pulled her hand out of his pants. The jacket almost fell to the floor but Merrick caught it in time. His cock twitched in agony and called him a traitor, but the rest of Merrick’s mind and body let out a sigh of relief. He’d dodged a bullet.
He helped Tina stand up, and watched her tugged her skirt back down her legs. She picked up her tray and held it high in the air. She bent down again, from the waist until her lips grazed his ear. “Don’t forget to call me, big boy. You’ve got my number.” She nodded in the direction of the note, still lying on the floor then left. As his cock deflated and his heart beat returned to normal, he wondered if Tina performed that service for all of her male customers. If she did, he could see that increasing her tip money.
While he ate his food, the phone rang. “What?” Merrick said.
“Nice to talk to you too, bro.”
“I’m busy, what do you want?” Merrick said.
“Where the hell are you, and for the love of next quarter’s profits, why did you fire our headliner?”
“I’m taking
a few days off at the fishing cabin.”
“You didn’t answer my second question,” Tony said.
“I don’t want to talk about that. I’ll call you tomorrow.” Merrick hung up and powered off his phone. He didn’t want any distractions and he wasn’t in the mood to explain himself. If he was going to focus on anything – it would be to track down Tina and make plans for the weekend. He remembered the note which was still on the floor, so he reached down and picked it up. He put it next to his cell phone, thinking to add the contact number now before he lost it, but then remembered that he wanted to keep his phone off. He didn’t want to even see Tony’s pissed off texts.
He picked up his beer and drank the last drop as he read the note. He wanted to make sure it was legible, before he stuffed it in his pocket. The number was legible, but it wasn’t her name or phone number that made him spray his beer all over his cell phone. It was the last part of the note – a little extra something.
I have a twin sister.
A million erotic visions danced instantly in Merrick’s mind. Holy crap. Despite his affliction, he’d been with a fair share of beautiful women, the recently fired Calista being one of them. And some of them were even into the odd kinky thing, but he’d never been invited to participate in a threesome.
This weekend was getting better and better, he thought as he wiped the Misty Falls Lager off his iPhone. He stared at the note again, just to make sure he read it correctly. He stood up to get a better look around the bar, as he tried to spot his missing server. If that girl really had a twin sister, he wanted to set up their trysts before he left. Maybe even for later tonight.
He spotted her coming out of the kitchen, but her back was to him as she served her table. He sat back down and tried to be patient. I should call Joann and Charlie. He pondered the wisdom of that. He’d hired the couple to look after his cabin, but he’d failed to tell them that he was coming. He could call them and ask them to spruce the place up, maybe bring over some food and wine, and put flowers out and chocolates on the bed. He checked his watch. Pretty late. Almost ten o’clock. Joann and Charlie were in their late fifties. How would they react to getting an unexpected last-minute request – from a boss who hadn’t bothered to let them know he was coming? What if they were asleep already? Could he really expect them to drop everything to help him prepare his cabin for a night of debauchery?