Lisa Wells - Dib
Page 16
“No sex. Yes rules. Each of us will ask the other person five questions. The rule is you have to answer no matter what the question is. You get one pass.”
“Are the answers you give me going to be real or are they part of your fantasy character?”
She thought about it for a moment and then shrugged. “I’ll give you five real ones.”
“Okay, but my first question doesn’t count as one of my five,” he replied in full negotiation mode. In his career as a music mogul, he knew all about negotiating.
She took a slow drink of her White Russian before responding. “Why would I agree to that?”
“Because, it’s an easy question. What’s your real name?”
She tilted her head and looked at him with puzzled eyes. “It’s Lacey Valentine.”
“Seriously?”
“I am serious. Why? Don’t you like my name?” Lacey pouted.
“Oh, I thoroughly like your name. I was just under the impression it was a stage name for your career as a fantasy coordinator.” In his business, lots of singers had stage names. His was Covey Grant. Grant was his mother’s maiden name.
He liked how Lacey’s breasts moved up and down when she was agitated. He would have to make her angry more often. The benefits were great.
She sighed. “My parents are very romantic at heart.”
“I can only imagine.” He laid his chin on the top of her head.
“Are you ready to play five questions?” she asked.
“Sure, why not, as long as you stay here between my legs.”
“I get to go first. How long have you been a struggling country singer?”
She really was caught up in his being poor. He was going to like getting to know someone who believed him a pauper. “Since I was about three, and my mom and dad let me go up on stage and sing. It gets in your blood. I earned a buck fifty that night.” This was true.
“Have you ever been married?”
“No. That’s two.”
She shrugged at his count. “Why were you on the Dating Show?”
“Pass. That’s three.”
“Will you ever get married?”
The all important marriage question. “I’m beginning to consider the possibility.”
“Why?”
“Because my grandmother is dying from cancer. She’d like to see my brothers and I married. At first, I resisted the idea, but lately, it doesn’t sound so bad.”
“What type of woman would you marry?”
“Sorry, you’ve used up your five questions.”
“Yes, but you got a free one, I want a free one,” she pressed him.
“Okay, I’ll answer the question. I have no idea. When I find her, I’ll know. Isn’t that how love works? It hits you out of the blue.”
She laughed. “It’s a good thing you are my Mr. Wrong, and I don’t have to be put out with your not even including me as a possible love interest. What do you want to know about me?” Lacey asked with easy humor.
Covey couldn’t see her face. Couldn’t tell what she was thinking. Did she want to be thought of as a love interest? “I don’t know. Let me think about it.”
“Think about it? Are you always so difficult to play games with? What’s there to think about? Surely, I raise enough curiosity in you that you have some questions you want answered.”
“I’m not being difficult. I just want to make sure I use my turns wisely. How is that being difficult?”
“It just is.”
“Okay, I’ll ask one of my questions now. Do you want me to think of you as a possible love interest?”
She jerked against him and her breathing seemed to stop. He held his breath. He didn’t know why, but he wanted her to say yes. He wanted to change the rules of their weekend. He wanted the fantasy to end.
“That’s a dumb question. We’ve already agreed not to get serious. Now, sing me a song if you’re not going to let me talk anymore about me.”
Covey didn’t show his feelings. He was too smooth for that. But, he felt the bullet in his gut. “Okay. What would you like to hear?”
“Surprise me.”
Covey shifted and grabbed the cooler bringing it closer to them. He handed her a White Russian and pulled out beer for himself. He needed another drink. What he’d like to do was get drunk and forget about this woman in his arms. “Let’s go outside and sit under the moonlight. I’ll build you a fire and we’ll see what comes to mind.” Perhaps, the fresh air would help him refocus.
“There’s a fire ready to go; you just have to light a match,” she said.
Covey grinned. “I like your way of roughing it Lacey Valentine. Everything’s ready to go. Nothing gets in the way of romance.”
Covey lit the fire and together they settled into a double lounge chair.
“Close your eyes and I’ll sing to you.” Several songs came to mind. He contemplated which song would be a good starter song.
Chapter 17
Lacey laid her head on his shoulder and snuggled into his side. His deep bass voice caressed her with a series of country love songs. The words were too quirky for her taste, but his voice was like dark chocolate and caramel. Its sinful richness tempted her to gorge herself on all he had to offer and forget all about self-imposed boundaries.
Did she give him the answer he wanted to hear? Was he testing her when he asked if she wanted to be considered a love interest? Did he doubt her when she said she wanted a nostrings attached weekend? It was an underhanded way to try and catch her in a lie. It wasn’t nice. What was worse, part of her wanted to shout hell yes I want to be considered a love interest. What was wrong with her? He was her freakin Mr. Wrong.
She blocked out her thoughts and forced herself to listen to his voice. Country songs actually sounded good coming out of his mouth. He’s a talented artist. Why’s he singing in two-bit bars? He could do better than that. He should join a reality show for singers. He could be the next poster boy for country music stars.
He paused to stretch and the feel of his warm, naked body pressed into her soft flesh caused all intelligible thought to disappear. He had no apparent problem with nudity. The contact went beyond tantalizing, it felt comfortable. She snuggled further into the crook of his arm. When she moved her palm and rested it lightly on his abs, his muscles tensed and his words faltered. Interesting. She pulled her hand back. My touch affects him. Cautiously, she laid her hand back down where she had it with her fingers spread open this time. He jumped.
She giggled, picked her hand up, waited a second, and sat it back down. What is it about you that causes me to giggle?
He brought his hand up and laced his fingers into her wayward fingers. “It’s hard for me to sing when you keep tempting me with your fingertips.”
She pulled her fingers out of his grip and pushed them underneath his hand to his bare skin. “I have no idea what you’re accusing me of.” There was a certain feeling of security that came with the intimacy of darkness. She could tease much more openly.
He kissed the top of her head. “Witch,” he muttered.
“A trashy witch,” she agreed.
After another song, she slowly trailed her fingers along his thighs. A growl, originating deep in his throat, told her he was losing his concentration on the song. She allowed her fingertips to linger close to the top of his thighs taking the time to outline the muscles in a slow circular motion.
His voice disappeared altogether when she stretched her fingers and laid her palm flat on the inside of his inner thigh. The movement caused her nails to brush against his balls. They both jumped. His balls were huge.
His hand came up under her T-shirt to lie flat on her stomach. She grabbed his hand to move it to a firmer spot. Unlike his, her abs were not rock hard. They were more firm-pillow hard.
He’s my Mr. Wrong. I don’t need to worry what he thinks about my body, she reminded herself. She let go of his hand, stopped sucking in her stomach, and snuggled closer to him. “Are you going to sing the trashy
song to me?” she asked.
“No.”
“Why?” She twisted in his arms to look up at him.
He touched the tip of her nose with his lips. “No need. I’m your Mr. Wrong; I don’t have to worry about you dreaming about commitment when the sun comes up. I sing the trashy song to women I want to scare away.”
“Oh.” Lacey felt oddly deflated. “You know, I don’t walk on the trashy side in my daily life?” Now, why did she say that? God, I’m losing my mind. His opinion doesn’t matter.
“Doll Face, I knew that the moment I saw you. I’m surprised you lasted this long on the trashy side.” He was laughing at her again.
Lacey perked up as if he’d just paid her the highest compliment possible. “I have hung in there haven’t I? And, you haven’t made it easy. All things considered, I’m doing a pretty damn good job - don’t you think?”
Covey ruffled her hair. “You’re doing okay.”
She sat up straight and stared him straight in the eye. “Okay? I’m doing much better than okay. What do you mean, okay? We had sex in a limo less than two hours after we met.” Lacey thumped him on the chest with her finger. “Okay, would be letting you get to first base. Damn you, I was masturbating in a canoe in the middle of a river.”
“Whoa, calm down Doll Face,” he grabbed her hand and brought her fingers to his lips. “The limo was a good beginning, and the canoe was enchanting. But, you’ve got a long way to go before you can wear the title of Trash Queen.”
She growled. “By the end of this weekend, I’ll be as trashy as any gal you’ve ever had.” Did I really just say that? I’m losing my freakin’ mind.
Covey laughed and pulled her forward. He kissed her nose. “Question number one.”
Lacey looked at him expectantly and didn’t correct him. This was not question number one.
He shot her a penetrating look, as if he was considering his words carefully, and then asked. “Why fake an orgasm?”
Lacey exhaled loudly. She didn’t pretend she didn’t understand. This was the third time he’d brought it up. He knows. How, she didn’t know. But, he knew. As casually as she could manage, she replied, “I don’t want to talk about why.” It was her secret. She didn’t have to share it with anyone.
He ran his fingers through her hair and massaged her scalp. “Is that a pass?”
She felt the tension ease away as his fingers worked their magic. It wasn’t really a secret. Maddison knew and Dr. Sullivan knew. What did one more person matter? Especially, someone she’d never see again after this weekend. “No, it’s not a pass. You’ll just ask me something even worse if I pass. If you must know, I walked in on my fiancée with a bimbo. When I tried to get over him, I found I wasn’t able to have an orgasm. I came on the show for a weekend of sex to get back my orgasm.” Lacey waited for the grief and anger which usually accompanied her memory of that day. It didn’t appear. There was some blah there, but no extreme emotion. Was she healing?
“Mission not accomplished,” Covey said. It was a statement, not a question.
She wrinkled her nose. “How could you tell?” Men were not supposed to be able to tell when a woman was faking an orgasm. Especially, the first time you’re having sex together. There’s nothing to compare the bogus act against. How did he know that wasn’t exactly how she sounded when she was orgasmic?
Is he a freakin’ mind reader? He has to be. Why couldn’t she find a normal man?
“Gut feeling. Question number two, would you go back to him if he asked you?”
When hell freezes over and trees dump cash. “No.”
“Are you sure that’s not just anger talking?” He kissed her forehead, and then trailed the kisses down by her ear causing her to shiver.
“I don’t want to talk about him.”
“Did you love him a lot?” He asked, not letting her off the hook.
Lacey glared at him. He glared back. Why do you care? Lacey searched for the right words to describe her feelings toward Marty. She obviously thought she was in love with him at one point or she would have never said she’d marry him. She always thought when she got married, it would be forever.
Right now, she was having a hard time recalling Marty’s face. Which didn’t say much for ability to know love when she saw it. “I was going to marry him,” she said lamely.
Covey snorted like an angry bull. “He’s a fucking fool. You’re better off without him.”
Lacey stiffened. His words felt possessive. This loser had better not be waffling on our nostrings-attached handshake? “Coming from a man who doesn’t jump for joy at the idea of falling in love and getting married, you’ll forgive me for not getting a lot of comfort from your opinion,” she snapped.
It was important for her to keep this casual, just as she told him she would. She planned on walking away, and into a new chapter of her life, when the weekend was over. After all, that was why she chose him.
He ruffled her hair. “I’m serious.”
He didn’t have the right to be serious about anything where she was concerned. What did he know about letting a woman go? Even a good one? Lacey’s heart hurt and she tried to keep the tears at bay. “I’ve learned men will always be ruled by their penis. There’s no such thing as a trustworthy Mr. Right. Fidelity is a myth.” She wouldn’t let him change his Mr. Wrong status. Being wrong was his strong point. She counted on his flaws to keep herself free of pain.
“Whoa. Slow down, Doll Face. You can’t paint us all as sonofabitches just because one of us turned out bad.”
“Are you saying you’ve never treated a woman like dirt?” she challenged.
“No. I’ve done my share of idiotic things. But, if I was in love with a woman, she wouldn’t have to worry about me cheating on her. I don’t break promises.”
“So, you say. At least, if that’s true, you won’t disappoint me. I know you’re Mr. Wrong and there will be other women after me.”
He frowned and then sighed. “I’m glad I’m your Mr. Wrong. I get to enjoy your company without worrying about hurting you. I would never want to hurt you.”
Lacey laughed quietly dispensing of the mood. “Let’s stop talking about this and enjoy my weekend of wild abandonment.”
He sat up suddenly, causing her hand to slip and cup him. She gasped, while he inhaled sharply.
“Shall we go skinny dipping?” he asked in a voice not nearly as low as it normally was.
“Of course,” Lacey removed her hand. “What self-respecting, trashy woman, would turn down an opportunity to swim naked with a loser cowboy?”
She stood and stripped out of her nightshirt. She held out her hand and he engulfed it with his large one. Together, they made their way across the sandy bank and into the water. When the water was up to their waists, Covey released her hand and dove. He surfaced a few feet from her. Water glistened off of him in the moonlight.
She feasted on the sight of a Greek God and forgot to move or make a sound. She forgot to care that he was feasting on the sight of her body at the same time she was his.
“Has anyone ever told you that you have a beautiful body?” he asked. He playfully splashed water in her direction bringing her out of her reverie.
She sank into the water until it was up to her chin. “Are you just saying that because you hope to get lucky?” she demanded in a teasing tone.
“I thought it might make you decide we can do the green light deed.”
“You’re horrible. I can’t do that with you.” And, I can’t fall in love with you.
“Then, my complimenting your body had nothing to do with buttering the pot.”
“Buttering the pot?” she said, with a groan. “You really are a good ol’ country boy aren’t you? Here’s a hint, not a good saying for the seduction scene. On a scale of one to ten, you’re looking at a zero with that gem.”
“Tough audience,” he said, while floating on his back. “I was raised by my grandmother. I carry around a lot of her sayings in my vocabulary.”
“They died when I was ten.” His gaze shifted toward hers as he spoke. The emotion on his face was raw. He walked toward her and placed his hands in the small of her back.
She rested her forehead on his chest. “I’m sorry.” Somehow, that sad piece of news moved him a little out of her Mr. Wrong category. Dammit, she wanted him to stay Mr. Wrong.
Working to distract her thoughts, she let her hand slide down his body to his soft penis and was impressed with its size, even when it wasn’t aroused.
He stilled her hand. “Careful with that baby. You might want it to work after a while.”
She looked at him coyly. “What? This?” She tugged on his penis to bring it to life, enjoying the heaviness of his pride and joy in her hand.
He gave her a sardonic look of amusement. “I think if you get me out of this water, you’ll find it rather useful.”
Lacey shook her head in disbelief. “I can’t imagine this has anything to offer,” she said, while tugging gently on his cock.
Covey grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the water. They stumbled across the sand to the tent. “You doubt my manhood?” he grumbled. “I am honor bound to prove to you that it is very good at what it does best.”
Lacey dipped her head and went into the tent ahead of him. She turned and faced him. “I don’t know. I really think you’re in over your head,” she teased. “Why don’t we just go to sleep? I can probably find someone tomorrow at a gas station to fulfill my trashy weekend plans,” Lacey said sweetly and then yawned loudly.
“Woman, you will not be sleeping anytime soon.” He scooped her up and lowered her onto the pallet. His hands skimmed her breasts and pulled at her nipples. The heated plucking of his fingers on her breasts sent pleasant jolts through her. She writhed against his hands, eager to touch more of his skin. His tormented groan was a heady invitation. “Hold still, I refuse to rush this.”