Sex Idol

by Shelley Munro

  Yeah, right. “What about the heats this weekend? Did she mention them?” Antonio gripped the communicator so hard his knuckles whitened. Unfuckinbelievable. He was so screwed, caught in limbo with Bridget’s games. Dammit, he wanted this title.

  “She asked if I’d stand in for her this weekend.” Sasha’s quiet, almost hesitant words cut through his pissed musings.

  “She what?” he exclaimed.

  “Asked me if I’d partner you this week. Something about her mother.”

  Antonio’s heart thumped wildly. Was something finally going right for him? “Partner me?” He was unable to think past the thought of Sasha and him on stage together again.

  “I said yes. I hope that’s okay. I mean, I sort of know the routine, and it’s a once off. Actually, I said no at first, but she pleaded with me. She sounded desperate. Antonio? Are you there?”

  Bridget? Desperate? Something is definitely not right. He doubted her mother was sick. “I’m here. That’s fine. I appreciate you stepping in to help.” Total understatement. He might have a chance of winning with Sasha onstage with him. “We can discuss it at dinner.”

  “Can you pick me up from the school? I need to reshuffle some of my classes and have to work later.”

  “I’ll pick you up at eight. And, Sasha—thanks. I appreciate you doing this for me.” Antonio ended the call, a huge grin on his face. Things were looking up.

  * * * * *

  Antonio decided on his favorite Italian restaurant. It wasn’t big on elegance and snobby waiters, but the food was superb, there were private booths, and he knew the owner. Handy having a restaurant in the family, and an uncle who didn’t lecture him.

  He arrived at Sasha’s school a fraction before eight. After buzzing the intercom, the door clicked open, and he bounded up the stairs to her classroom with an eagerness he hadn’t felt for ages. The door at the top of the stairs was open so he entered.

  “What are you doing here?” a belligerent male fired at him. It was one of the parents—Welsh. In his expensive tailored suit, his expensive genuine leather shoes, his expensive watch the man reeked of arrogance. Antonio didn’t like him or his sneer.

  “Antonio is here to take me to dinner,” Sasha said, her visage calm, but Antonio detected a trace of strain in her stance. Her expression morphed into relief when he closed the gap between them to stand at her side.

  “Perez.” Thomas Welsh acknowledged him with a curt nod. “I thought you said there was nothing going on between the two of you.”

  Antonio exchanged a quick glance with Sasha. What did she want? Because if she wanted this guy, he wasn’t sure he could step back and let it happen.

  “We’re friends,” she said, straightening her shoulders.

  Not good enough to get Welsh off her back. He wouldn’t walk away if she wasn’t firm with him. “We’re more than friends.” Antonio slid his arm around her waist and tugged her against his side. Sasha stiffened but didn’t reject him.

  “I intend to file a complaint with the sex education board.” Thomas followed this up with a sly smile at Sasha.

  “You what?” Sasha whispered in horror.

  Antonio assumed from Sasha’s grimace this was the first time the man had mentioned reporting her. The smarmy bastard. His casual intimacy with Sasha irked Walsh. This wasn’t about money. This was about male pride.

  “On what grounds?” Sasha challenged him, recovered a fraction. “I have done nothing wrong.”

  “Security around here is lax if students’ belongings are going missing. It may have been my daughter’s simple necklace this time, but what if an abduction rings break in and snatches some of your students? Kidnap them, or worse, sell them into sexual slavery. Rest assured, the board will investigate. You might even lose your license. Then there’s the rumor I heard the other day about you taking on underage students.”

  “That’s a lie,” she snapped.

  Antonio sensed her trepidation and squeezed her waist in silent encouragement. She had to stay strong. Call his bluff. That was the only way to deal with a bully like Welsh. The temptation to take control of the situation flitted through his mind but Sasha would want to handle this. She’d resent his interference. On the other hand, if she wanted his help all she had to do was ask.

  “My reputation as a teacher is spotless. I am meticulous in checking paperwork to ensure my students are of legal age.”

  “We’ll see what the board says,” Thomas countered. With a last hard stare at Sasha, he sauntered from the room. His footsteps echoed up the stairwell and finally, the slam of the door as it shut and the lock engaged.

  “He’s all talk, Sash. Don’t worry.” Antonio slid his fingers across Sasha’s cheek. “The man’s a pompous ass. Why was he here?”

  “He said he wanted to discuss his daughter’s progress in my class.” Sasha gnawed on her bottom lip, her green eyes shadowed with worry. “I hope you’re right. Thomas Welsh has a lot of clout in the city.”

  “He’s still an ass. You ready to go?” He smiled. “You look great.” Nothing less than the truth. The pine-green dress did something to her eyes, making them as green as the forest on a fine, sunny day. Sasha had left her hair down instead of tying it back and it tumbled in loose curls about her shoulders.

  “You’re right. No point worrying at this stage.” She picked up a bag and her keys then walked down the stairs in front of him. Antonio followed, his gaze on the sway of her butt. He hadn’t looked forward to a dinner like this for years.

  Sasha had tried four separate outfits before she’d settled on the green dress. All the angst was worth the heated expression she’d seen in Antonio’s eyes. It made her feel feminine and beautiful—not something she normally worried about—and gave her hips an extra little swagger. A naughty grin lingered on her lips. She intended to enjoy this surprising new turn in their relationship. Antonio wouldn’t know what had hit him.

  Antonio hailed a hover-cab and helped her into the backseat. His hands skimmed her waist, the heat of his palms sinking through the synsilk fabric of her dress. She gasped, a purely sensual reaction to his touch. Sasha imagined his hands on her naked flesh, touching her breasts, between her legs. Her nipples contracted. Her belly quivered. Her pussy tingled. Sasha savored the knife-edge of arousal frisking her body. It would get better, sharper as the night advanced.

  She wanted him, and it was becoming worse—thoughts of Antonio spilling over at inappropriate moments during her teaching day. Right now, she’d happily forgo dinner to head straight for a bedroom. She grinned. Now that would be a novelty. They’d been together in a bedroom, in the same bed only a handful of times. Her amusement faded, pushed aside in a wave of foreboding. The last time had ended their friendship.

  “What’s wrong? Not thinking about Welsh?”

  “No,” she lied. “Bridget. I hope she’s all right. She sounded upset when I spoke with her, not her usual bitchy self. I hope she’s all right. Are you sure you’re okay with me taking her place?”

  Antonio covered her hand with his. “You’re not nervous about performing again?” A tiny smile lifted the corners of his mouth.

  “No! Okay, a little.” Sasha heard the defensive note in her reply. “I haven’t performed onstage for ages. I’m not fit and sculpted like the other performers. Like you.”

  Antonio squeezed her hand. “You’re beautiful and a natural on the stage. The audience will remember you. You’ll be fine. We will win our heat. I feel it in my gut.”

  “Glad you’re so confident.” Sasha glanced out the tinted windows of the hover. Lights winked in the apartments they passed. Couples strolled the sidewalks, spilling from the tavern on the corner of the street. The hover-cab settled and stopped outside a modest Italian restaurant, tucked between an off-planet recruitment agency and a body-sculpting studio. Antonio paid the driver and they stood back as the hover took off.

  Antonio ushered her to the tiny, tiled restaurant foyer, opened the main door and guided her inside. The place was alive, w
ith every seat filled. Happy shrieks and loud laughter filled the air. Waiters, dressed in formal black and white bustled between tables delivering plates of steaming food and trays of drinks. Sasha appreciated the rich, spicy scents while envy pierced her soul. So many happy families.

  “Ah, Antonio. And this must be Sasha.” A short, chubby man grabbed Sasha around the waist and kissed her exuberantly on both cheeks. Then he treated Antonio to the same welcome while Sasha stared in a dazed stupor. The chubby man knew her name.

  “Uncle Marco.” Antonio beamed at the man.

  Uncle?

  “You know the way, Antonio. All is in readiness as you requested.”

  “Thanks.” Antonio took her hand and led her away from the main dining area, down a narrow passage to a private room.

  Finally the question formed. “That’s your uncle?”

  “Yeah. My mother’s brother. I used to spend a lot of time with him and his family as a child.” He opened the door and ushered her inside. The door had barely shut behind them when he hauled her into his arms and slammed his lips down upon hers. Surprise held her still before his persuasive caress pulled her under. He took advantage with quick flicks of his tongue, stroking the interior of her mouth. Cinnamon from this tooth cleaner exploded on her taste buds. She slid her arms around his neck and melted against him. The press of his erection against her belly brought a surge of liquid heat between her legs. His fresh scent pulled her deeper. In her haze of pleasure, she didn’t care they stood in a restaurant. All she could think of was Antonio and her desperation to join with him. She ran her hands down his back and squeezed his butt. His hoarse groan brought her back to the private dining room.

  If they carried on this way, they’d be naked before dinner. Stop. Slow down…

  “Antonio.” Sasha inhaled to ease the tightness of her chest and released the air on a moan when Antonio slid his fingers beneath the neckline of her dress. She had worn no undergarments tonight so the fabric of her synsilk dress flowed across her body. “Antonio. We have to stop.” She forced the words out, not wanting to do as she said at all. She’d prefer him naked, every part of his body accessible to her roving hands.

  She concentrated on the cozy dining room, not the desire shimmering between them. Hunter-green curtains, old and a little faded, screened the windows in a luxurious drape. The walls were painted in a rich cream that reminded her of the glass of real milk she’d savored during her childhood. That particular foster family had been wonderful. A pity the family hadn’t keep her. They’d moved to Paris instead. She ripped her mind off the memory of rejection and scanned more of the room. The gold stencils and trim on the walls added another classy touch.

  Antonio’s hand slid lower, across her breast, rubbing her nipple before he released her. “I almost wish I hadn’t done that.” His eyes dark and heated and dipping to her chest. “It will be difficult to concentrate on dinner.”

  “Dinner?”

  “Yeah.” His voice was hoarse, and he coughed before he continued. “You know. Table. Chairs. Two people. Food.”

  A knock on the door made them spring apart. While Antonio opened the door, Sasha wandered over to the table. Set with shining silver cutlery, glistening crystal glassware and gold-rimmed white plates, the atmosphere shrieked of romance. The single pink rose in a slender vase confirmed it, as did the soulful vocals of a man crooning through concealed speakers about his homeland and the lover he’d left behind. She worried her bottom lip, tugging it between her teeth while she wondered what other surprises this night would bring.

  A waiter bustled in with a squeaky trolley. Laden with a bottle of wine chilling in a mini-cooler, sparkling water and plates covered with antique silver domes to keep the food warm. He’d remembered she preferred sparkling water to wine. A nip of pain reminded Sasha to release her abused lip. The tiny throb echoed in her breasts and lower in her core.

  “Come and sit,” Antonio murmured, his expression knowing as he held out his hand.

  She strolled toward him, conscious of the synsilk of her dress swishing and rubbing sensuously against her nipples, the figure-hugging skirt flowing across her bare ass. Despite the waiter’s presence, Antonio brushed a kiss across her lips and sat her at the table before taking a seat opposite. Under the table, their legs bumped. Sasha didn’t move an inch, even though his touch seared the length of her body. Neither did Antonio. They stared at each other while the waiter served them. He unscrewed the cap on the sparkling water. The tiny creak as the synmetal seal released seemed overly loud. Delicate bubbles splashed into glasses. Sasha refused the wine, but Antonio nodded for the waiter to fill his glass. The waiter fussed with the food next. He removed the covers and the scent of a rich tomato sauce full of garlic and basil permeated the air.

  Sasha inhaled, and Antonio followed the sway of her unbound breasts. His exhalation broke the silence. Antonio was as caught up in the moment as she was. Sasha let one shoe fall off her foot. Her bare toes rose up his leg to tease his inner thigh. Antonio shifted on the chair a fraction, widening his stance and lifting her foot onto his lap.

  Tension stretched even more tightly between them. Sasha shot a quick look at the waiter. He lingered until she wanted to scream, but finally he said, “Will there be anything else?”

  “No. Thanks, we’ll be fine,” Antonio said, his tone short and abrupt.

  Sasha smiled. “Thank you.” Please let him leave. She was ready to explode and badly wanted to touch Antonio. Or herself. Anything to give relief to the nagging burn that increased with each passing second. The thought of running her finger down her cleft, one finger filling her empty sheath while she massaged her swollen clit, sent a surge of arousal to ease the way. She wriggled on her chair.

  Please leave, she silently instructed the waiter.

  “Ring the desk if you require anything,” the waiter said. With a quick, satisfied smile, he wheeled the squeaky trolley from the room and shut the door behind him.

  Sasha slumped in her chair for an instant before straightening again. The sensual silence between them was palpable. Her tongue darted out to ease dry lips.

  Antonio cleared his throat. “Are you hungry?”

  “No.” Not for food at any rate.

  “Good.” He bounded to his feet and strode around the table. With one effortless move, he hauled Sasha to her feet. “I hope you’re ready for me ’cause I’m about to burst.” His features radiated need and urgency. It pushed her arousal higher.

  Sasha glanced around the intimate dining room, taking in the paintings of the Italy of old on the walls and the small copy of the statue of David standing on the sideboard. “Here?”

  “Yeah.” A man at the edge of desperation. Sasha understood since the relentless throb in her pussy was driving her to madness.

  “Hands against the wall,” he ordered.

  Sasha hesitated. They were in a restaurant, owned by his uncle. What if he walked in on them or the waiter returned?

  “Do it, Sasha.”

  Excitement warred with common sense. If they crossed this barrier, would their budding friendship implode like it had the last time when they’d strayed from professional?

  Take a walk on the wild side, her conscience whispered in a taunting note. And so what if they were seen? She’d had sex in public while on the contest circuit. No difference really.

  Sasha fumbled for her shoe and shoved her foot in it. With one last lingering peek at Antonio, she walked across the terracotta-tiled floor. Her heels tapped her progress as she sauntered across the room to a portion of the wall that was free of pictures and furniture. She placed her hands palm down on the cool, cream plaster and leaned her weight forward, waggling her ass in a slow come-and-get-me wiggle.

  She’d barely touched the wall when he flipped the skirt of her dress up, exposing her bottom to his gaze. His warm hands cupped her butt, shaping the luscious curves as he teased them both. An impudent finger caressed her anus while another followed the path between her ass cheeks to her swoll
en clit and her weeping pussy.

  A full body shiver racked her as his fingers parted her folds and probed her cleft. Heat swirled through her aroused body. The finger pushed past the puckered rosette, drawing a groan from her.

  “More. Stroke me. Now, Antonio.”

  “Soon,” he promised. A delicious frisson accompanied the slight pressure he applied with each stroke of his fingers, one at her anus and the other rubbing her nub.

  “Antonio, now. Please. Make it fast.”

  His finger circled her clit. Once. Twice. A spike of pleasure surged through her needy body. Her pussy clamped down.

  Empty. God, she needed him inside her. Why was he teasing her when he could see—feel—how ready she was to take him?

  She shifted her weight and opened her mouth to protest. The words were only half formed when he removed his fingers. Both anus and clit throbbed with a persistent demand. Sasha swallowed. Juices trickled down her inner thigh. Silence stretched, the cool air from the humidity control blowing on her bare bottom. Her lungs labored, noisy in the intense room.

  “Antonio?”

  “Easy, Sash. It’s going to be good. Be patient.” He caressed the smooth skin of her pubic bone and across nude pussy lips. “Nice.”

  “Patient,” Sasha complained, the word coming close to a snort. “If you don’t hurry, I will take care of the problem myself.”

  “Waiting will make it better when you come.”

  “Humph.”

  “I promise. But you’re welcome to self-pleasure in front of me anytime,” he murmured. “I love seeing the flush of arousal crawl across your beautiful breasts. And your pussy lips. They go this incredible pink. It’s easy to see when your skin is free of hair.” His fingers stroked the delicate flesh between her legs. “You feel incredible, much better than some of the other women out on the circuit and way better than the sex bots.”

  “I told you so,” Sasha said sweetly.

  Sex bots were designed to resemble the real thing and many competitors preferred to work with a bot rather than a partner. Personally, she’d always preferred warm flesh beneath her fingers, a real cock filling her.