Sex Idol

by Shelley Munro

  He scooped her up and strode over to the nearest chair. The apartment was pure Sasha, full of cheerful colors and life. A large painting filled one wall, bright and intense in swirls of orange, red and black. Vibrant like Sasha.

  He cuddled her against his chest. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

  “There was a fire. My classroom. Rent. Stealing. Welsh. Bridget.” She sobbed or hiccupped between each word.

  “A fire? Was anyone hurt? Is the building damaged?” Antonio’s hands clenched against her back as fear at what might have happened stalked his mind. Thank God, she hadn’t been inside. His heart pumped out several unsteady beats. The thought of Sasha being hurt…

  “The building was empty.” Sasha hiccupped. “The man from the fire department said they wouldn’t be able to save it. Everything’s gone.” She continued on with everything that had been plaguing her. The words poured from her in a long stream, but the one thing that grabbed him was her confession of jealousy and how she hated seeing him perform with Bridget. Hell, he felt the same way. Just the thought of any man or woman touching Sasha made him want to howl. Her confession gave him hope. Perhaps she’d come out on the circuit with him again.

  “I feel the same way about you performing, hell being personal, with anyone but me,” Antonio said fiercely. “Sash, I’m not sure I can help you with all your problems, but I’ll do my best. Together, we’ll sort everything out. Classroom space. That’s the most pressing problem. You never know, it’s possible it’s not as bad as what they said. Why don’t you get dressed and I’ll start a list of everything you need to do. We’ll go through it together when you’re ready and contact the fire department again.”

  Sasha disappeared into another room, leaving Antonio to make his lists. His personal communicator rang before he started.

  “Perez.”

  “Antonio, it’s Massey. I have that info for you. Vehicle belongs to Fabio De Santis.”

  “De Santis? As in the mob family De Santis?”

  “Yeah. You’re right to worry if your partner is involved with De Santis.”

  “Thanks, Massey. Appreciate the favor.” Antonio hung up and sat back, deep in thought. He looked up when Sasha returned. Good. She’d stopped crying. “I have a plan.”

  Sasha nodded, her dismay dropping away, replaced by hope.

  Antonio captured her hand and tugged her down beside him. “Come out on the circuit with me. Once we win the Sex Idol title, you’ll earn plenty of money. Sash, you’re a natural on the stage. Forget about this baby rubbish. You’ll never be able to come back after having a baby. Better yet, pay someone to carry the baby for you. You don’t want stretch marks. I need you, Sasha.” Although he’d thought about the baby thing and become used to the idea, a few years wait wouldn’t make any difference. They could do great things together out on the circuit, then retire and have a baby.

  Sasha stared at him for a long moment, long enough that he wanted to squirm. “I want a family.”

  “You have me.”

  “You?” Sasha’s eyes narrowed in disbelief, and she jabbed her finger at him. “All you’re interested in is the next performance, the next routine, the next title to add to your collection. Sex isn’t about pleasure for you. It’s about money.”

  Antonio clenched his teeth and bit back his frustration. He wanted to tell her about his parents. The messy family he belonged to. He wanted to tell her about Rachel, the woman he’d loved. She’d used him and his inexperience, laughing at him behind his back with her friends, then she’d left him, taking his hard-earned savings when she’d departed. His second foray into romance had nailed home the fact that women weren’t to be trusted. Gina had needed a partner to make her look good, and Antonio had mistaken her neediness for love. He’d discovered her in bed with a contest organizer, a man with money. Strike two.

  Then he’d met Sasha. Slowly, he’d come to like her and trust—trust had come later. Too late. By then privacy and self-protection were so engrained in him, he’d not let Sasha get any closer than friendship. Personal stuff was kept separate. He knew more about Sasha now than he’d ever known before, but how the hell did he explain all that? He opened his mouth, closed it, hesitating.

  Sasha bounded to her feet. “Go. This won’t work.” She wrenched open the door to her flat and stood there waiting for him to leave, hands planted on her hips. Her nostrils flared, temper flashing in her eyes. “You’re not the man I thought you were.”

  Antonio didn’t move. Pain chiseled at the protective armor surrounding his heart. He could have sworn he heard a crack. He didn’t want to argue. “Sasha, please let me explain. I promised you a baby and I won’t go back on my word. But I don’t understand. Why is having a baby so important to you?”

  “My reasons don’t matter,” Sasha snapped.

  “It’s important enough to argue about. Tell me. Make me understand.”

  She evaded his gaze. “I want someone to love. A family,” she muttered.

  “Why?”

  Her chest rose and fell on a sigh as she shut the door. “I never had a family. When I was two, my mother sold me for thirty-six thousand dollars. She told the people she sold me to that she didn’t want me anymore. I was an imposition. And besides, she wanted the money to go on holiday to Vegas with her most recent man.” Sasha shrugged in an I-don’t-care manner, but even he—blind as he was—could tell it mattered a great deal.

  “What about the people she sold you to?” Antonio cringed. It sounded awful when said bluntly like that. “They must have wanted you if they were prepared to…pay.”

  Sasha laughed, but the sound held bitterness. “They were reporters after a story. Once they’d paid for me, they handed my mother over to the cops and I went into childcare. No one wanted to touch me because of the publicity so I stayed in a series of foster homes until I was old enough to make it on my own.”

  “How old—”

  “Just before we met on the circuit.”

  He remembered the wary eighteen-year-old who’d dazzled the judges whenever she walked onstage. Antonio stood and took her stiff body into his arms. Ignoring her stubborn fight, he held her tight, murmuring comforting words. Gradually, she relaxed.

  A family. Life was but a blink. And as fleeting as it was, there was a need for love, to give, take, and nurture. He was beginning to understand why a child was so important. For those very reasons. And maybe, just maybe, that was what he wanted, too. A loving family.

  “Sasha, you’ll have your baby and, if you let me, I’d like to be part of your family. It’s true my family isn’t affectionate or supportive, but I can learn. I’m teachable. I want to help you.”

  He meant every word. There was no one he trusted more than Sasha, no one he’d sooner be with.

  “I don’t want to go out on the circuit again.” Sasha pulled away from him and looked up as if judging his words and the meaning beneath. “I’m willing to help you out with training during Sex Idol, but that’s all. Once the Sex Idol contest finishes you’re on your own.”

  It wasn’t the ideal solution, but her firm chin suggested she wouldn’t waver from her decision. “I understand that.” And he did, even if he wished otherwise—the ideal—Sasha out on the circuit with him fulltime.

  A hesitant smile tilted up the corners of her mouth, and Antonio nodded with relief. They could learn about being a family together.

  * * * * *

  That night last week marked a change in their relationship. Sasha smiled, thinking about it. Thanks to one of Antonio’s friend’s she had temporary premises to hold her classes and she’d used her savings for basic equipment so her classes could continue. Her students were bringing exercise mats until the couches she’d ordered arrived. Not perfect, but the best she could do.

  And the fire… Sasha’s brow puckered in annoyance as she scanned Antonio and Bridget’s positioning. Witnesses had seen two teenagers fleeing the scene, but the police hadn’t captured them to date. She was still convinced Thomas was the culprit behind
the fire. The wretched man wanted to make her his mistress and had stepped up his campaign. Sasha glared at the message icon glowing on her communicator.

  Six messages. All from Thomas.

  Antonio took her out for lunch when their schedules permitted or arrived at class with a sandwich for her. Sasha’s frown dropped away, replaced by a happy smile. His tender care was like old-fashioned courting. Occasionally, he’d trap her in the storeroom and kiss her. Transferring germs, as Bridget continued to say. She quivered at the memories, and it wasn’t the first time. Her body was in constant awareness of him. She…lusted after Antonio. Her breasts tingled, juices flowed, and yet he did nothing but kiss. It was getting to the point where she pondered devious ways to trap him in the storeroom and have her way with him. She’d give it a name—practicing for Operation Baby. Anything to get her hands on his delicious muscles.

  “Earth to Sasha,” Antonio said. “How was that routine? Have Bridget and I nailed it yet?”

  “Huh? Ah, sorry. The routine was good yesterday,” Sasha said. She tried to concentrate on her job. In truth, she’d zoned out to crush her envy, because along with the sensual awareness, the jealousy lingered like the smell of week-old rubbish.

  “You guys got through the heat last weekend with no trouble. The week before, the win was so easy it was laughable. Why should the finals be any different?”

  “Because of the kiss.” Bridget’s lips twisted in a moue of disgust. “I freeze up every time.”

  Antonio smoothed his hand over Bridget’s naked shoulder blade, petting her in a comforting way. “I should be offended.”

  Sasha averted her gaze, her hands fisting at her sides. “You’re getting better at covering your dislike of germs.” She tried to sound encouraging despite hating the idea of the intimacy. “Look, the traditional routine is fine. The kiss appears natural. Your self-pleasuring routine comes as second nature. You’ve prepared routines for the anal and toy categories. The only problem you might have is if the organizers try a twist.”

  Antonio grinned. “Like the carrot?”

  “Yes.” Sasha rolled her eyes.

  “Having to improvise at the last minute makes me nervous,” Bridget confessed. “I’m jittery enough already.”

  “You’ll be fine.” But Sasha couldn’t understand Bridget’s tentative manner. Part of the fun of performing was spontaneity. Check that thought. From all she’d seen and heard, Bridget didn’t think on her feet. Her attempts to date had ended in disaster because she didn’t consider Antonio her partner when she was improvising. She thought of her desires rather than showcasing the partnership first.

  Sasha frowned. Maybe she was right to worry. Bridget’s hesitation in this area might well be the difference between winning and losing.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The day of the final arrived. In four hours, the audience would choose the Sex Idol winner. Votes came from the audience watching the show live and from special voting stations around the globe and at the off-planet colonies.

  Antonio caught a preordered hover-cab to the stadium. They’d had their last rehearsal with Sasha yesterday afternoon and he’d spent the rest of the day and evening alone. Too bad his thoughts hadn’t been such great company. He’d told Sasha they’d be a family, but they hadn’t discussed logistics. The need to give her time to think about his role had made him back off and give her space despite his screaming instincts.

  All night he’d lain awake, worried because they hadn’t finalized how it would be once Sex Idol was over. Antonio realized he needed commitment from her—him, the original love ‘em and leave ‘em man. He screwed his eyes shut for an instant, blinking when he reopened them.

  He’d fallen in love.

  The hover-cab driver pulled up with a screech and settled his vehicle on a parking pad. “This is as close as security will let me drive to the main entrance. They should have given the competitors a special pass.”

  “Here’s fine.” Antonio pulled a handful of credits from his pocket, glanced at them and handed the lot over to the driver.

  “Good luck, man.”

  “Thanks.” Antonio headed for the competitor entrance and passed through the outer security check.

  Nerves hummed, dipping and surging as he walked down the tunnel to the outdoor arena. Not that he would have admitted his fear to anyone. He flashed his competitor ID at the security guard on the inner gates and strode inside with all the hauteur of a confident man.

  The overhead lights switched on, bathing the stadium in an artificial brightness that dazzled, almost blinding him with its intensity. Flying insects swarmed toward the lights while heavy rock music blared through the speakers dotted around the arena.

  Antonio scanned the camera placements. He’d arrived early, wanting to recheck the angles of the cameras and work out if their planned routine needed any last-minute tweaking. He didn’t think it would since Sasha was a professional. They’d covered every possible scenario during training so he didn’t understand why he vibrated with foreboding.

  In half an hour, the gates would open and the audience would pour into the stadium, full of chatter and excitement, some carrying banners, signs and photos of their favorite competitors. Licensed souvenir sellers had set up shop outside. From his quick glance as he’d passed their stalls, they’d stocked up with T-shirts and every conceivable clothing option, along with designer condoms and sex toys. Anything the most ardent fan could desire.

  After checking the camera placements, he wandered back to the competitor area, searching for Bridget. He wasn’t happy about having her as his partner, but she’d turned up at every training session and had attempted to work with him to turn out a stunning performance. For once, they felt like a team, striving for the same goal.

  But it was still different from performing with Sasha. He must be getting old or jaded since he had to concentrate to get it up enough to perform with Bridget. It couldn’t be his feelings for Sasha…

  Antonio checked his watch for the third time. Bridget had promised she’d arrive early, but she wasn’t here yet. Disappointment bit him hard. If she didn’t turn up, he’d never forgive her. He trudged through the tunnel toward the dressing rooms. Noise and panic tinged with excitement was building in the dressing rooms. They were full of activity. Competitors raced around in varying stages of undress, each small room filled with a warm-up couch and whatever personal accoutrements they thought necessary for their fifteen-minute performances.

  “All set, Antonio?”

  Sasha pushed off the block wall as he rounded the hallway. Damn, she looked amazing in her synjeans and figure-hugging blue blouse. “Sasha.” Antonio kissed her on the cheek, the move instinctive and natural. “I didn’t think you’d be able to come backstage tonight.”

  “I know the guy on the door. Besides, I still have a competitor disc from when I filled in for Bridget before.” She stepped away from him, her cheeks tinged with pink. Her gaze drifted around the vicinity as if checking to see if anyone was eavesdropping. “I’ve brought my class with me. A field trip so they can study the way professionals do things. They have to critique the performance of one couple and state how they could have improved their act in a written essay format.”

  A grin etched into his cheeks, and he stepped closer, inhaling her carnation scent. “I’m glad you’re here.” He squeezed her lightly and stared at her lips. “My good-luck charm.”

  Sasha gave a self-conscious laugh. “Where’s Bridget?”

  He grunted with impatience. “She’s running late.”

  “Well, there’s still plenty of time.” Sasha smoothed a lock of hair off his face. When she realized what she’d done, she flushed. “Sorry. My students tell me there was an article in the newspaper a few days ago about you and Bridget breaking up. Another one.”

  “When? I didn’t see it.” Antonio glanced at the ceiling, waiting for a bolt of lightning to strike him down for lying. When none came, he risked a glance at her.

  “The tabloids go
too far. One of these days an offended party will sue their pants off.”

  Indignant looked cute on Sasha’s exotic face and her belief humbled him. He wanted to pull her into his embrace, hold her tight and never let go. Each day, each hour, he spent with her was making it more difficult to maintain his distance, to court and woo as Sasha deserved. And Bridget—talk about complicating matters. Guilt brought uneasiness. Perhaps Bridget’s lateness was a punishment for his economy with the truth.

  “How are things with Thomas Welsh? Is he still bothering you?”

  “Lots of calls and threats.” She lifted her chin. “I got tired of them, so I went to see the people in charge of the Teachers’ Collective. I told them everything, including about his threats. He rang while I was speaking with the man in charge. The director called in his assistant and his secretary and told me to put the call on speaker.”

  Antonio stared, saw the twinkle in her eyes and grinned. “I take it he threatened you again?”

  “He did, and he told me he filed a complaint. He told me he’d do it again until I did what he said.”

  “And they heard everything.”

  She nodded gleefully. “He put his foot right in it.”

  “Does he know?”

  “Not yet. They told me if he complained again, they’d act. The director also said each time their inspectors came to my school the reports were exemplary. I have nothing to worry about.”

  “That’s great.” He checked the clock on the wall. “Damn, I wish Bridget was here, and I wish I wasn’t so nervous.”

  “You’ll be fine. The routine we worked out is good. You and Bridget will win the pairs contest tonight, and I’m positive you’ll score enough points to take the overall title. You’re in the lead now. All you need is a solid performance tonight and you’re in.”

  Antonio smiled, wishing he had Sasha’s confidence. He’d be happier if Bridget arrived. “Thanks.”