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Miss Congeniality

Page 12

by Marie Garner


  She couldn’t read the look in his eyes; it wasn’t anger, but it wasn’t understanding, either.

  “You don’t get it,” he sounded defeated. “But you will. Call me when you get it.”

  “Well, call me when you want to apologize!” she screamed after he slammed the door behind him.

  The fallout from the press was difficult. Raquel definitely got the short end of the stick; media outlets were saying it was just another example of her loose morals and she wasn’t a good example for young girls. Raquel was a wreck. She refused to leave the house unless it was to go to work, and Brea was feeling the pressure. There were reports about how she needed to keep better company, and whether her relationship with Lance was prompting her to act irrationally. Give me a fucking break, she thought after day three of no communication with Lance. Well, at least not any meaningful conversation. She still had to see him at work, but somehow she got through their scenes without flipping out. Raquel told Brea yesterday she was going to choke on her damn pride and Brea needed to call the boy because he was right. Stupid bitch. But Brea had an idea this last incident had shaken Raquel, and Brea knew she needed to cool it for a bit.

  She wasn’t going to call him because that would be like admitting defeat, but she would text him. That would be a compromise because she really missed him, if she was honest.

  Brea: So, I’m not saying you’re right, but I’m not saying you’re wrong, either

  He didn’t reply right away, which made her wonder if she had waited too long. While she worked herself into a slight panic, she could picture him staring at her text, debating what to say.

  Lance: Well, I’m not saying I owe you an apology, but you may have had a point, too

  She stared at the screen, rereading it because she didn’t believe what she was seeing. She fought the urge to jump up and down with excitement so she decided to go sweet and see what he would say.

  Brea: I miss you :(

  Lance: Leave your dressing room open

  He always gave those short, one-sentence commands, which was irritating as hell.

  Brea: Wow, way to deflect

  Lance: Leave your dressing room open

  She resisted the sigh and went to unlock her dressing room.

  Brea: Why do you always think I am just going to jump and do your bidding?

  She was staring at the phone, waiting for his response when the dressing room door opened. He said nothing, just walked over to where she was sitting on her couch and started kissing her. She responded eagerly, having missed him over the last couple of days. Having been with him almost every day for the last couple of weeks, she missed sleeping with him at night. He pulled back after nibbling the side of her neck.

  “Hi.” He smiled softly.

  “Hey,” she replied, running her hands through his hair, something she hadn’t been able to do the last couple days. “Missed you,” she said when he started kissing his favorite spot behind her ear. She lifted her chin, giving him better access, and enjoyed the tiny kisses he placed on her neck.

  “I missed you, too. I love being with you, and tonight I’m going to worship you.”

  “Yes,” she agreed.

  “But this afternoon, I’m going to fuck you. I can’t wait.” They repositioned themselves as he talked; he sat up and pulled off his shirt, getting off the couch quickly to unbuckle his pants. She was thankful she was wearing a dress today, so all she had to do was lift it over her head. He placed his hands on the side of her head, attacking her lips, kissing her for a couple minutes before he helped her get into position on the couch, getting on all fours with her ass in the air. He slapped her ass, chuckling at her yelp, and slid her panties down slowly. Lance stuck one finger in her slit, rubbing it in and out a couple of times to make sure she was ready.

  “I’ll make this better later,” he said apologetically.

  “Lance!” He was killing her; she wanted him to have sex with her already. He loved to torture her, delaying her pleasure.

  “Yeah?”

  “Fuck me now!” He didn’t have to be told twice.

  “Yes, ma’am!” Lance quickly rolled on the condom and pushed himself in slowly while she ducked her head down and tried to push back on him. He held her steady, not letting her move.

  “You want it in?” he asked her while he ran his finger along the crack of her ass.

  “Yes!” He thrust in completely, grabbing a fistful of her hair. He thrust in and out, causing Brea to arch her back and meet him thrust for thrust. It was over almost as quickly as it began, and he let go as soon as he heard her come. She screamed his name, and he pushed in two more times before he came. She collapsed on the couch after he pulled out of her, rolling on her side, staring up at him. He lay down beside her, putting his leg between hers and his arms around her waist so they lay flush with each other. He put his head in her neck, inhaling her scent, and reached behind her to put the blanket on top of them.

  “Give me a minute,” he said. Brea slung her arms over his neck, feeling his breathing even out. He never fell asleep right after sex, which Brea took to mean he must not have been sleeping well the last couple days. Or, at least she hoped, feeling inordinately pleased.

  It took another three weeks for all the media reaction to the videos to die down, and Brea and Lance grew even closer during this time. After they made up in her dressing room, they became more inseparable than before. The merging of their lives seemed to occur seamlessly. They spent most of their time together, usually at Brea’s house, and it got to the point where he had starting leaving clothes and toiletries over there because it was easier to do so than try to go home in the morning and change. It was a bit scary to think about how much she was enjoying her relationship with him, the more time she spent with him the more in love with him she was feeling.

  They were currently spending the night apart, a rarity lately, because the whole crew was gearing up to fly to Washington, DC for a promo event for the new season on Maggie Beach, which was starting in the next couple of weeks. Brea was determined to soak up the sights, and she had even talked Lance into extending their trip by a couple days so she could take in a Washington Wildcats football game. The Wildcats were her favorite team, and she couldn’t see herself going into the city and not watching the game. It would just be a preseason scrimmage, but when it came to the Wildcats, any game was better than none. The other reason she kicked him out tonight was she needed time. Their relationship had moved really fast, and Brea wanted to take some time to see if this was what she really wanted. She thought it was, but no one should jump into something without carefully considering everything.

  Lance: Why am I not over there inside you?

  Well, clearly, someone else didn’t share in the same uncertainty. Lance was more of a take charge, ‘I want what I want’ kind of guy, who made no apologies for doing so. It was interesting to watch, but it could get on her nerves when it came to them, especially given the fact her backbone seemed to dissolve the second time he issued one of his commands.

  Brea: Because I have shit to do which doesn’t involve you.

  Lance: Touché. Are you sure you don’t need me for something?

  Brea: Nope. :) If I need anything, I always have BOB.

  Lance: Who the hell is Bob?

  Brea: (picture eye rolling) My battery-operated boyfriend.

  Lance: Do women really call it that?

  Brea: Of course.

  Lance: How come I’ve never seen it?

  Brea: When I’m with you, I get kind of sidetracked and tend not to need it.

  Lance: I want to watch you use it.

  Brea’s face flamed, picturing Lance watching her make herself come with her vibrator.

  Brea: Um…no.

  Lance: Ok.

  Brea narrowed her eyes at his response, knowing he wasn’t going to give up that easily.

  Brea: What’s the catch?

  Lance: Can’t I just agree with your stubborn ass?

  Brea: No.
/>   Lance: Our relationship would be much more fulfilling if you did what I asked.

  Brea: Are you serious?

  Lance: As two heart attacks and a stroke.

  Brea: Did you really just say that? I’m getting off here.

  Lance: Fine. But before you go, I just want you to know…

  Brea: Yes????

  Lance: I really didn’t like the skirt you wore today.

  “Let’s play yes or no,” Brea told Lance the next day when they were driving to the airport. It was something they had started doing since that first night, when he gave her a series of yes or no questions to answer. It was one of their favorite things to do.

  “Who’s asking?” He eyed her warily and with good reason. The last time they played, she asked him questions about his past sexual experiences, much to his embarrassment and dismay.

  “You remember the rules, whoever suggested it, which would be me.” She waved her hand over her chest dramatically.

  “Fine. But I’m giving you a limit of ten.” She tsked her lips, trying to think of questions she wanted to ask him.

  “Did you like my skirt yesterday?”

  “No,” he answered quickly. “And not to take away from the game, but I told you that last night.”

  “I thought you were kidding! And Lance, for the record, if you want to get laid in the near future, don’t ever tell me you don’t like what I’m wearing.”

  His face scrunched in confusion. “Why the hell not?”

  “Because a woman wants to know her boyfriend thinks she looks good, and if you thought the skirt was ugly, you thought I looked ugly.”

  “You always look good, babe. The skirt was ugly, not you.”

  She brushed him off. “Same thing, but I don’t really want to get into it with you.”

  “You started with me!”

  “Moving on,” she said loudly. “Do you like being my boyfriend?”

  “Yes.” He laced his fingers with hers and kissed her hand.

  “Do you want to go home with me in a couple weeks?” Brea had decided a few days ago she was going to fly in for part of her brother’s trial, but had yet to inform Lance.

  “Yes.”

  “Can you see yourself with another woman?”

  He frowned at her question. “No.” She wasn’t a jealous woman by nature. However, it was really hard to be in a relationship with a guy whom women were literally willing to throw themselves at while naked, so every once in a while, she threw in that question.

  “Do you think your image has improved with the media?”

  There was that smirk she knew and loved. “Nope.”

  “Do you think my image has improved with the media?”

  “No.” If there was one topic they argued about, it was that. He didn’t like the idea her reputation suffered because she was with him, but Brea couldn’t care less. She was the happiest she had been in a long time, and she wasn’t going to jeopardize that feeling because someone told her he wasn’t the right person for her to be with.

  “Will you take me to meet your parents?”

  “Yes.” He had been begging her for weeks to go with him, but she always put him off because she didn’t want to meet them. It was a valid excuse before, when they worked fourteen-hour days and all she had time to do was go to bed when they were released for the day, but that was no longer an option. Besides, if his answer to the next question was what she thought it would be, she had better get used to the idea of having to meet his parents.

  “Do you love me?” Lance had whispered the words to her the other night, but one could never be too sure.

  He brought their joined hands up to his mouth again. “Yes.”

  “Good.”

  Lance stared at her like she had two heads. “What do you mean ‘good’? You’re supposed to say ‘I love you, too’ when I make that declaration.”

  “Not in yes or no.”

  “You make no damn sense sometimes. I don’t know why I bother.”

  “Because you love me,” she sang joyfully. He shook his head, turning the radio up loudly on some heavy metal station, a sign she had pissed him off. She wanted to let him stew for a bit—she couldn’t let him have the upper hand in everything—but he looked so damn miserable she refused to let him suffer for much longer. She turned down the radio, ignoring his grumblings.

  “I’m going to throw you a bone.”

  “I’m not a damn dog.”

  “You’re right; dogs are man’s best friend, sweet loveable pets you want to show off to everyone. None of that describes you. But as I was saying, I am going to give you a chance to play a modified version of yes or no. You get to ask me one question.”

  “How come I only get to ask you one question when you asked me ten?”

  “My game, my rules.”

  “Actually, it was my game first.”

  “Who’s giving you the bone?”

  “How the hell did this just get weird?”

  “Follow along. One question.” She held up one finger for emphasis, knowing what question he was going to ask. She knew he was dying to have her say she loved him, and she was happy to be able to give him this.

  “Okay, I got it. Since you were mean to me, can you give me a blowjob as your way of apologizing?”

  “Don’t pout,” Lance mumbled under his breath as they walked through the airport. They walked briskly to their plane, having been spotted so the pointing and pictures had already begun.

  She was still upset when she thought about his question. “I can’t believe you asked me that! Like that is the one question you wanted to know the answer to.”

  “Why would I ask you a question when I already know the answer?” He slung his arm over her head playfully, nuzzling her neck. She jerked away from him, mostly so he didn’t know how he affected her.

  “You think you know the answer, but you really don’t know shit.” He threw his head backed and laughed, kissing her with a loud smack before slapping her ass.

  “Don’t change, babe.”

  “Why the hell would I ever change. Someone has to be there to keep you on your toes.” They reached their gate, sitting in the corner so people wouldn’t mess with them. There was only a twenty-minute wait until their boarding time, so Brea and Lance opted to wait near the gate as opposed to the VIP lounge. They sat there for about ten minutes, Lance playing on his iPhone while Brea watched those around her. A woman sat across from them with two small children, a little girl no more than one year old, and a three-year-old little boy who sat playing with his ball.

  The children had been screaming off and on the whole time they sat there, the boy whining for snacks and a drink while the little girl just cried. Brea felt bad for the mother, so when the little boy looked like he wanted to throw the ball at her, she reached out her hands to let him know she would catch it. He reared back his arm and threw the ball at Brea, catching her by surprise, but she quickly recovered and tried to reach for it. The kid’s aim was off, hitting Lance in the head. He looked at her curiously, and she held her hands up to say she didn’t do it.

  “Gary!” The mother scolded him. “I’m so sorry.” She looked at them, eyes widening when she realized whom her child had hit.

  “It’s okay, happens all the time.” Lance brushed off her concern as he retrieved the ball for the child.

  “Want to play?” he asked the little boy who had his finger stuck in his mouth. He nodded shyly, peeking from the side of his mother before he got up to play with Lance. They tossed the ball back and forth a couple times, this gentle man who was rough around the edges, while Brea and the mother looked on.

  “I’m Brea.” She sat beside the woman, who was rocking her baby back and forth.

  “Julia. He’s really good with him.” She nodded toward Lance, who continued to play with the little boy. They had moved on from catch and were now looking at his iPhone.

  “I know.”

  “If someone had told me this morning I would be sitting at the airport wh
ile my child played with Lance Holder and I talked to Brea Richards, I would have thought they were crazy. I was about to pull my hair out before you guys came up. The baby was screaming, he was throwing that damn ball everywhere, but it was like he just stopped and watched when you guys sat down. I guess he recognizes celebrities, too.” She chuckled softly, looking down at her daughter, who snored quietly in her arms. Brea looked on, maternal feelings overtaking her. She had never wanted children, not wanting to pass her genes onto any child, coupled with the fact she never found any guy she wanted to have children with. But she couldn’t resist the urge to run her finger down the baby’s soft head.

  “Tell me about it. I didn’t know he had it in him.” Lance was tickling the child, causing belly laughs to come, and Brea wondered what it would be like if he was playing with his own child.

  “I know what they’ve said about him and you recently,” the woman started nervously, like she didn’t know how to address his infamous reputation, “but I will never forget what you guys did for me today. I know you’re celebrities, so no one expects it of you, but I can’t thank you enough.”

  “Don’t even think about it. A lot of time people forget we’re human, too, and subject to the same fallibilities as everyone else. The only difference is most people don’t have their mistakes splashed across the television.”

  “Well, I’ll never forget this.”

  “Me neither,” she whispered while Lance continued to play with the child across the aisle.

 

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