“You’re okay, though?”
Antonio nodded and broke into a slow grin. “That’s a very nice flogger you have there. What are you going to do with it? It looks too pretty to do much arousing.”
“Before you poke fun at my props, tell me what you scored. We don’t have much time to work out how to use them in the act.”
A tinge of color formed on Antonio’s cheekbones.
“Don’t tell me you got a carrot?”
“I ended up with a carrot,” Antonio said with a sheepish grin.
“Damn, I told you not to tell me that. If you think you’re hiding that carrot in me, think again.”
“I gave one of my props to the lady with the bloody nose because she ended up with two carrots.” Antonio shrugged. “But check this out.” He produced a frilly white apron with a flourish.
Her rising indignation collapsed and her heart melted just thinking about his act of kindness. “Okay, that excuse is acceptable, and you’re right. The apron has possibilities. Let me think about it before we discuss tactics.” Sasha checked her watch. “Jeesh, look at the time. We’d better get ready.” She stooped to unbuckle her shoes and kicked them off. After stripping off her clothes, she applied the black competitor number to her left biceps and, after waiting for half a minute, peeled the backing away to reveal black numbering. “Do you want to do a quick warm-up here before we go out?”
Antonio clenched his fists. Damn. A warm-up with Sasha sounded great. His cock rose in anticipation, the thought of sinking into Sasha’s snug warmth was as much warm-up as he needed. But he wasn’t man enough to admit that to her, not when he craved her touch. Antonio cleared his throat.
“Good idea.” He yanked at the buttons on his synsilk shirt and shrugged out of it. “Grab my number for me, will you? I left it on the shelf over there. I can never get the blasted thing on straight.”
He loved the way she touched him, her soft, fragrant hands alternatively gentle and firm on his limbs. Oh yeah, baby. His cock involuntarily bobbed, the sensitive head rasping against the placket of his trousers. Antonio fought a shudder of arousal and excitement. He hadn’t felt so confident about a competition outcome for a long time. It was because of Sasha. Even with a carrot in their repertoire of tricks, he was looking forward to hitting the stage.
“You’re hopeless.” Sasha picked up the number and smoothed it over his left biceps, holding it until the ink fused with his skin. She peeled away the backing. “Here’s hoping number one hundred and sixty-eight will be lucky for us and goes all the way to the final.”
“We’ll get there.”
“You and Bridget will,” Sasha said. “Remember this is a one-time thing for me.”
A one-time thing? Not if he had anything to do with it. Wait until she got out on the stage again with the buzz from the audience rolling across them in waves, the thrill of performing, the adrenaline high.
“Talking about Bridget, I haven’t caught up with her apart from a quick communicator call. We were cut off before I could ask where she was and what the hell was going on.” Antonio shucked his trousers, carefully peeling them away from his cock and tossed them over the back of a chair. His gaze followed the graceful lines of her body as she removed the rest of her clothes. A heart-shaped butt waggled in his direction before she turned back to face him. He’d have her ass soon. Antonio swallowed. Man, this would be good. Privacy was the only thing that would make it better. The stealthy thought made him pause in confusion.
A date and now privacy.
Sasha was doing something to him and damned if his brain wasn’t going along with the party. Shrugging aside the thought, he closed the distance between them. The delicate scent of carnations floated up to him, making him think of a lazy summer day and memories of vacations past. Her nipples dragged across his chest, tightening from their relaxed, pouting pose as he watched.
“Look how your body responds to mine.” He lifted a hand to cup one plump globe and stroked his thumb across the swollen tip, a featherlight touch but her nipple reacted by tightening. “Kiss me?”
“I’ve created a monster,” Sasha said with a laugh. “You always want to kiss me. Just as well, we’ve both had our inoculations. Do you think Bridget is all right?”
Damn, he didn’t want to think about his problems with Bridget. “Yeah, she’s a survivor. I’m sure she’ll be fine.” His gaze drifted to Sasha’s lips. Yep, thank God for inoculations. “You taste good, and forbidden turns me on.” Not quite the truth but close enough. Forbidden and Sasha at the same time turned him on. Kissing Bridget did nothing for him, and Bridget felt even more strongly on the subject. She’d rather kiss a frog.
“You can kiss me. I enjoy kissing,” she whispered.
Antonio took her mouth without haste, as if they had all the time in the world and weren’t due onstage in ten minutes. His tongue explored her inner cheek, the hardness of her teeth. His hands slid through her long hair, maneuvering her mouth to the precise angle he needed. Then, finally, with pulse rate galloping, he pulled away and cradled her against his chest.
His balls ached, nagging for relief, but he ignored the small pain to enjoy a quiet cuddle. He’d never been a cuddler or even wanted to cuddle a woman just for the hell of it. Regretfully, most of his sex occurred on the job or during rehearsal. Never for the sheer hell of it, and never for enjoyment—not since that time in Fiji with Sasha. Or the other night.
“We’d better get ready,” Sasha said.
She didn’t want him. Indignant, he wanted to push her away but the flush on her cheeks, he changed his mind. She wanted his baby. She liked kissing him. Sasha must feel something for him. Antonio wished he could fathom what she wanted from him, because at present, he felt out of control, like a hover-cab without a driver.
They strolled side by side into the small backstage room set aside for the next competitor onstage to warm-up and prepare. Antonio noticed the technicians give Sasha’s naked body a few sidelong looks. Several of the others were naked, too, but it seemed to Antonio they were paying particular notice to Sasha. Damn, why hadn’t they grabbed robes? He winged a glare at the nearest offender and placed his body between Sasha and the man’s leer. Sasha’s bag hid some of her, and at least there would be spare robes, provided by the sponsors, in the waiting room. They sure as hell weren’t heading back to their dressing room without them.
“Name?” a security guard demanded.
“Antonio Perez and Sasha Greenacre.” Antonio scrutinized the man in case he ogled Sasha, but the appreciative glint in the man’s eyes told him the security guard swung the other way. The sly pinch on Antonio’s backside as he passed confirmed the supposition. Sasha’s virtue was safe but he wasn’t so sure about his.
Antonio caught a whiff of sanitizer spray as he stepped inside the room. It was cleaned instantly by the housekeeper droid for their use to warm-up or whatever else it took to prepare for their on-stage performance. A large screen showed them the action on the stage if they wanted to check out the opposition.
Sasha ignored everything to rifle through her bag. She muttered before giving a small cry of success and pulling a plastic jar out.
“I’ve brought body glitter with me. It’s something new I’ve been experimenting with. If we choose the nighttime backdrop, you know the one with the deep blue coloring that comes with stars and the moon. The lighting they use with that backdrop should highlight the body glitter.”
“All right. What about positioning onstage?”
“I’ll take the chair.” She halted and pointed at a small speaker.
Someone had bugged the room. God knows who was listening in. It could be management or other competitors. “Warm-up time,” he said.
Sasha went into his arms, following his cue without protest. Her hands glided down his chest to tease his cock. She traced the baby-soft skin of his balls and groin before running her fingers from base to tip. “You look so much better without all the body hair. You feel better, too. Did it hurt?” Her eyes contained impish hu
mor.
“Yes, it fuckin’ hurt.” What the hell she was going on about.
“Do you think we’re being watched as well?”
“Possibly.”
The two-minute warning bell clanged.
“We must risk it.” Sasha pulled away and grabbed up the jar she’d set on the bed beside her bag. She screwed the top off and dipped her forefinger into the thick pink cream. “I’ll do a quick pattern on your chest and back.”
The one-minute warning bell peeled out.
“What about you?”
“Here. Dip your finger in and make some swirly patterns on my back and butt.” As she spoke, she rapidly traced around her breasts, down her belly and lower body. “The glitter will shine in the light.”
A knock banged on the door before it burst open. “You ready in there? On in one minute.”
The officious stage manager with hair pulled tight in a bun and antiquated horn-rimmed glasses tapped a pencil on her chart. “Which of the categories are you performing first? I need to tell the compère.”
“Self-pleasuring,” Antonio said.
“Why are two going onstage?” she demanded, stepping in front of Sasha.
“There’s nothing in the rules to say two competitors can’t go onstage. They can’t touch each other, of course,” Sasha stated. “But there’s nothing else to prevent a competitor and partner being onstage at the same time.”
“We’ll see about that.” The woman stomped over to the registrar and spoke to him with much gesturing in their direction.
“Are you sure?” Antonio said.
“I’m sure. Shush, she’s coming back.”
“You can both go onstage but the slightest infraction of the touching rule will cause disqualification,” the woman said. “Wait for my signal and you’re on. Background music—slow, medium or fast?”
“Slow music, please,” Sasha said. “A ballad.”
She sounded nervous again. Antonio wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her, soothe away her fears. Couldn’t happen. Not here in front of everyone. Instead, he reached for Sasha’s hand and squeezed it, trying to put everything he felt into that one touch.
“Did you hear about the Irish man who broke his leg?”
A faint smile replaced the anxiety in her eyes. “No.”
“He was trying to tap dance and fell into the sink.”
Sasha grimaced. She’d forgotten he used to tell Irish jokes to scare away her nerves. “You’ve told worse.”
“I’m offended.” Antonio grinned. “Ready to go onstage?”
Sasha gave a clipped nod. “Showtime.”
“Next up is Antonio Perez,” the compère shouted over the cheering crowd. “His drawn category is self-pleasuring.” A round of wild applause filled the stadium.
A group of fans screeched from the front. “Antonio! Antonio!” They waved banners and one of the more adventurous flashed her tits.
“Still got your fan club,” Sasha said dryly.
Antonio grinned, taking heart from her tone. “Let’s do this then we can go back to the dressing room and work out how to fit the carrot into our act.”
He strutted onto the stage in performance persona with Sasha at his side. Confidence grew, and he flashed her another grin.
When the audience saw both of them, they became silent, aware that something out of the ordinary was about to happen. Their faces and every action beamed onto huge screens so everyone in the audience could take in the smallest detail.
Sasha strolled over to a chair in the middle of the stage and fell into the comforting cushions in a relaxed sprawl, just as they’d discussed. With her blonde hair mussed and the light catching the body glitter, she looked like a wanton angel. His angel.
As he sauntered closer to her chair, she stared up at him through heavy-lidded eyes. Her hands smoothed across her breasts, pausing to tweak her nipples into prominence. A moan escaped, and Antonio saw the glisten of moisture between her pussy lips. Her finger circled the swollen bundle of nerves, her hips rocking to the beat of the sensuous music. His cock reminded him of the need to get with the program. Antonio gripped his cock and pumped slowly, swiveling his hips and drawing an excited squeal from his group of fans.
Their gazes met and Antonio entered a sensual world in which he and Sasha were alone, without an audience of thousands. He concentrated on the hand wrapped around his cock. The slow pumping extended his length. When he imagined his cock gloved in Sasha’s warm pussy, a tiny bead of pre-cum appeared at his tip.
Antonio smoothed his thumb across the liquid, shuddering at the pleasure. God, he wished he could touch Sasha—her smooth, fragrant skin. Kiss her. Take her needy clit with his lips and taunt her until she exploded. Another drop of pre-cum beaded on the head of his cock.
An excited “ooh” from his fan group told him they’d won them over already. But they both needed to come, and come before the time elapsed to score the points they needed to win.
He smiled at her low moan. Sasha. Her onstage experience showed as she played the audience, whipping them into a frenzy. He’d bet one or two of the spectators here tonight would want to touch Sasha. His gaze wandered her body and watched the way she teased her mound, parted her folds and ran her fingers the length of her cleft. They traveled up and down, coating her folds with her arousal. Antonio swallowed, wanting to go to her and lick her fingers clean. He took half a step toward Sasha before he registered her raised eyebrow and flirtatious smile.
Competition mode. Fuck. Deciding to hide his near blunder by improvisation, he sauntered closer, dodging at the last possible moment to strut around her chair until he returned to his starting spot. Continuing with the steady pumping of his cock, he blew a kiss toward his fans and waggled his backside, surprising a grin out of Sasha. Then, her body stiffened.
“Now,” she mouthed.
A ribbon of acute pleasure writhed through his veins. His orgasm clambered for release, but he forcibly held back, knowing they’d gain better marks from the audience if they climaxed together.
“Sasha,” he murmured.
Mesmerized, he watched the stroke of her damp fingers across her swollen clitoris while he continued pumping. A delicate flush covered her skin while her sex was a deep pink. She shuddered. The crowd murmured in approval. Her hips lifted abruptly, their silent signal she was on the cusp of orgasm. Another shudder racked her slim body.
Antonio stepped closer, and with his hand wrapped around his cock, he stopped holding back. Two rapid pumps was all it took. A violent climax rocked through him. Semen shot from his cock in a graceful arc, but instead of hitting the targets presented by the competition management, he aimed for Sasha’s chest. Cum sprayed against her upper chest, ran down her breasts, smooth belly and between her parted folds. As his semen ran down her body, it reacted with the body glitter, changing the color from blue to a deep pink. Her lazy smile of content brought a surge of possessiveness.
His. His partner. His woman.
When semen stopped jetting from his cock, he turned to the audience with a broad grin. He sensed rather than saw Sasha climb to her feet to stand at his side. The onstage lighting caught his blue glitter and Sasha’s pink. Together they waved, signaling the end of their act. The time-up bell peeled and Antonio took Sasha by the hand. They bowed to the audience together. The silence was absolute, then the crowd burst into whistles and cheers, many jumping to their feet to show their appreciation.
Antonio grinned at Sasha and winked in private celebration. They’d done it. The audience had loved the duo self-pleasuring act.
“Antonio Perez and Sasha Greenacre, ladies and gentlemen. That was some show! Give them another hand, folks. Remember to jot your thoughts down on the Personal Digital Assistants embedded in your armrests so when it comes time to score you won’t forget anything.”
With one last wave for the crowd and a kiss toward Antonio’s fan group, they sauntered from the stage. Once they were out of the audience’s view, their smiles fell away. Although
they’d put on a good performance and the audience had reacted well, the contest wasn’t over.
“We’d better decide how we’re going to use our props,” Antonio whispered. Some of the other competitors wore worried expressions and were standing in small huddles with partners and coaching staff while giving them surreptitious glances.
“I have a few ideas but the carrot is proving difficult. We don’t want to descend into tacky.”
A chuckle escaped Antonio as he opened the door into their dressing room. “Yeah, the obvious thing is to stick it up an orifice.”
“One of yours maybe, but we’ll keep it away from me,” Sasha said in an acid tone. “I can just see the gleeful expressions on the contest organizer’s faces when they stocked up on bulk carrots.”
Chapter Ten
“Next up onstage are Antonio Perez and his luscious partner Sasha. They’ve drawn the anal sex selection. They wowed us with self-pleasuring. I wonder what they have in store for us next.”
“Go, Antonio!” a young girl screamed. “I’ll have your baby anytime.”
Sasha suppressed a snort. Not if Antonio reacted true to type. They hadn’t discussed the baby for a while but, despite what Antonio thought, he wouldn’t change her mind. She intended to have her baby and start a family—
“You ready for this. Got enough lube?”
He rubbed his hands down his legs—a nervous tell, which was better than the overconfidence of some of the men and women she’d worked with onstage. “Do we have all of our props?”
“Here’s the carrot.” Clear amusement rippled in him as he indicated the pockets of his robe.
Sasha gave a clipped nod. “Get them to close the curtains while we set up.”
One minute later, the opening bars of their music started—an old track she’d found about a man loving a woman. She’d chosen it because the song appealed to her. Maybe Antonio would take note of the lyrics.
“Ready?” Antonio slipped off his robe and Sasha did the same, leaving her robe on the hooks provided by the entrance door.
“Yeah.” Actually, she could do with a kiss for luck. She grabbed him by the shoulders and went to kiss him then realized the curtains were opening. Instead, she settled for a peck on the cheek.
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