“Can’t wait to see the inside.”
Inside?
Her hands shook as she reached for the keys in her purse. This was it. Once she unlocked the door and they stepped in, they’d be alone. No agent. No producers. No waiters or New York City crowds. She steadied her hand and opened the door.
Victoria took several steps in and turned on the lights. As she located the design boards for tomorrow’s show she heard Russ shut the door. Her stomach clenched.
He started to whistle and she looked up to see him scanning her studio. Streamlined in stainless steel countertops and columns, the place had an industrial chic sheen except for the touches of pink and gray fabric. To the left, carpet and tile samples, to the right, paint chips in every color imaginable. In the back, art boards set up in various stages of completion. Miniature models of several finished designs for the show took up the middle of the store.
Russ stood in the midst of it all. A perfect model of man, but not so miniature and oh, so real. Victoria knew she’d never get the picture out of her head. Damn, I’m going have to re-design my studio. And damn, she liked it just the way it was.
“It’s you.”
“Yes, it was.” She sighed as her head swam with new ideas for a remodel. He gave her a confused look and before he formed the question, she lifted the boards onto a drafting counter. “Here they are.”
As Russ swung around the corner of the table, she took a step back.
“Do you have the before shots?”
Did he think she was an amateur? “Of course. They’re on the bottom.” She winced at the snipping tone of her voice.
“You know this would be a lot easier if you actually explained these to me and tell me what I’m responsible for.”
From the exasperated tone of his voice, he probably thought she was a hard-ass, but better he thought that than the real reason. She didn’t trust herself to stand so close to him. What if they touched accidentally? Or on purpose? Damn, what if I grabbed his cute ass?
Victoria took a deep breath and stood next to him. His fresh seashore scent surrounded her as if she’d just taken a dip in the ocean. If she tilted her head up would he kiss her? Her breath caught in her throat. She would not look up. She forced herself to concentrate on the sketches and explained them to Russ in detail. Now, in her element, she forgot her nerves. “So, can you build out these bookcases?” She risked a swift glance up and his heated gaze caught hers.
“No worries, luv.”
Victoria frowned, but let the endearment pass. It didn’t mean anything anyway. He’d probably said it a hundred times a day. Still her stomach felt like a dozen seagulls taking flight, all going after a single breadcrumb. She shouldn’t have looked up at him. And she shouldn’t have asked, “And you’re proficient with power tools?”
“Yep, I know how to work a drill.” He smiled.
“Save the corny clichés for the show.” She gathered up the designs and put them away.
“Just working on our chemistry.”
Chemistry? She didn’t have to work on it; she needed to disguise it.
He pointed to the stairs in the back. “What’s up there?”
“My apartment—” Crap, she should’ve told him it was storage.
“That’s convenient.”
Did she see a glimmer in his eyes? Yep, there it was. He was trying to make up his mind whether to kiss her or not. No, not whether, but how to go about it. Like a wolf sizing up his prey, figuring out the best way to attack.
Usually she was the huntress and she didn’t like being on the other side of the equation. Not at all. Maybe she should go on the offensive. That would really trip him up. Did he see a spark in her eyes as she thought about taking him on the counter? She imagined the cold steel on her bottom as he pumped into her. She bit her lip slightly, desperately wanting to rub her legs together to ease the ache swelling at her core.
He took a step closer, his light brown eyes still unsure.
She would take the next several steps and take control. The world operated just fine when she did. Besides, Neil would be back in what, two weeks at the most? A quickie with Russ would resolve any sexual tension on the set. With the deed done they could settle into their roles as co-hosts. Decision made, the muscle in her leg twitched as she went to move forward. She jumped as the doorbell chimed. Oh, thank God.
The customer didn’t know it yet, but it was her lucky day. As reward for saving Victoria from making a very big mistake, she would take ten, no, twenty percent off the bill. Instead of closing the distance between her and Russ, she turned and walked to the front of the store to greet her new client, a well-coifed elderly lady with bluish gray hair. “Hello, welcome to Victoria Divine Designs.”
“Oh, this is so exciting. I watch your show all the time and when I decided to re-do the living room I said, Henry, that’s my cat, only that nice lady on the television will do. I’m Mrs. McPherson.”
Even though she heard Russ let out snort, she plastered a smile on her face. “Well, thank you and it’s nice to meet you.” In an instant Victoria transformed from an about-to-jump-your-big-ten-inch to a charming and pleasant business owner. Russ could snort all he wanted. “Why don’t you take a look around? I was just finishing up with Mr. Rowland here and then I’m all yours.”
She ushered him to the door, nearly throwing him out. “See you tomorrow. 7:00 a.m.” Before she closed the door she added, “Sharp.”
Russ put his hand on the door. “And pick up where we left off?”
Picturing the cameras rolling she said, “Not if we want to keep the show G-rated.”
Russ laughed. “Then after?”
She loved the sound of his laugh. Unrestrained and whole hearted. She nearly blurted out a yes, but remembering the elegant lady inside she said, “No,” and closed the door. Couldn’t let a twenty percent discount go to waste by changing her mind and saying yes.
“Who is that strapping hunk of a man?”
Victoria’s eyes nearly bugged out of her sockets. If this refined, savvy woman lusted after Russ, then how could she ever expect to overcome her darkening desires for him?
“Is he your boyfriend?” Mrs. McPherson’s eyes resembled a clever silver fox.
“No …” Victoria stumbled.
“He looks familiar. I can’t quite place him though. Is he for hire?”
“No.” Victoria nearly choked.
“Too bad, I was hoping he was a handyman,” the woman winked.
Victoria shuddered, afraid this was going be her in forty years. Not even a cougar, but a dirty old woman. Along with Ava, she’d sit on park benches using feeding pigeons as a front to leer at shirtless men as they jogged. She shook her head to erase the image in her mind. At least she wouldn’t end up talking to cats. Victoria was allergic. “Actually, he’s filling in for Neil for a couple of episodes.” The woman watched the show, so it wasn’t like she wouldn’t find out eventually.
“TV? Maybe that’s where I’ve seen him.”
Victoria didn’t bother to mention up until now he’d only been on Australian television. Mrs. McPherson probably surfed You-Tube and found one of his videos. “Maybe. Now, how can I help you?”
***
Later that night, Victoria lay in bed wide-awake. Somehow his beach scent drifted upstairs or perhaps she was imagining it. She couldn’t believe she almost kissed him. What was she thinking? Sex. No, dirty sex. Dirty sex that cleanses a woman of all that ails her. And Russ was just the man for the job. Maybe Mrs. McPherson had it right. Hire a handyman.
But Russ was her co-host, not a male gigolo. If Ava was right about those ten inches, he’d make a killing in the New York high society scene. Much more than he was making as a replacement for Neil. But she knew Russ didn’t need the money. His casual clothes were not from Target. He also carried himself like a man with money. That was Victoria’s area of expertise—wallet size. Just as useful as Ava’s gift of sizing up a man’s penis with his clothes on. Though Ava’s talent was much
more fun.
Based on the success of his show and endorsements in Australia, Victoria estimated his net worth at five million. Not that money was important to her. Far from it. However, it was her mother’s main requirement in a husband for Victoria. And at five million, Russ didn’t rate. Which made him all the more attractive.
Enough about Russ! I need sleep.
She tossed and turned at least a dozen times, then giving up, reached for the nightstand. There was only one way she was getting any sleep tonight.
The vibrator weighed heavily in her hands. In anticipation she clicked the on button. Nothing. She shook the vibrator in frustration before tossing it toward the open drawer and missing. The sound of the vibrator hitting the floor and rolling several feet echoed through the lonely room as well as her heart.
She shut down the pity party. “Freaking batteries,” she muttered. Of course, with the way she’d been using the thing, only a car battery could’ve kept up. Suddenly, one of those ‘I’ve got an idea light bulbs’ went off in her head. Ava was going to love this one. A solar powered vibrator!
Two slogans popped into her mind.
‘Powered by day so it can run all night.’
‘Go green and get off.’
If only she had gone into industrial engineering.
Unfortunately, none of this helped her now. Victoria’s core still ached for release. She would have to do this the old-fashioned way. As her hand slipped beneath the sheets, she pictured Russ at the foot of her bed, urging her on. His Aussie accent washing over her in waves of hot desire. This wouldn’t take long. Not long at all.
Chapter 6
Across town Russ blotted the sweat off his body with a towel, careful to leave the oil intact. He’d just finished his solo act, but couldn’t shower until after the big finale. The backstage vibrated as the song ‘Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy’ blared out in front. Exhausted, he slumped into a seat. Grabbing a bottle of water from the cooler next to him, he downed the contents. A sudden wave of girlish screams almost drowned out the music.
But they weren’t girls; they were women, from eighteen to ninety-eight cheering his friend Brady on as he whipped off his chaps.
Russ shook his head still trying to catch his breath. He thought dancing for hundreds of women a night was an easy way to make some cash and help a friend out of a bind. Perhaps even fulfill a fantasy of his to be adored by a mob of women. It was harder than he imagined. But for once his ADHD came in handy, channeling his energy for the greater good of womankind. He didn’t know which tired him more, the gyrating and cardio or the strength it took to prevent the female mob from tearing off his thong. Those ‘ladies’ were animals. Clutching and grabbing like kids with a busted piñata. And he loved every bloody moment of it. He threw back his head and laughed.
If he wasn’t mistaken he spotted Mrs. McPherson among the crowd. She was there last night too. Did she recognize him earlier today? He did have clothes on at the time. Had she put one and one together and knew exactly who he was? After all, he didn’t realize until a minute ago that she was the same distinguished lady from this afternoon, but she wasn’t so refined at a male strip review.
And tried to stuff a fifty into my G-string.
But the dancers didn’t accept ‘tips.’ It’s what kept it classy. Sort of.
The women acted like he was the last man on Earth, each one wanting to procreate to re-populate the planet. Talk about fantasies. Unlikely to come true, but a man could hope.
And keep him from daydreaming about Victoria. About how her delicate, artistic fingers would feel on his oiled up body or how her lips would taste.
He was about to find out before Mrs. McPherson wandered into the studio. For a moment he’d thought Victoria was going to beat him to it until the blasted bell rang. He should’ve re-locked the door when he stepped inside. Then, instead of him wondering how she kissed and what it might have led to … on the counter, fast and furious … and then ended up … in her bed, exploring, touching …, he’d know.
What kind of sick bastard was he thinking about the woman he couldn’t have, at least not yet, instead of the dozens of women he could have right now?
“Wooo, what a show!” Brady ran backstage.
“It’s insane.”
“I’ve got us hooked up with five hotties.”
“Not tonight, I got a 7 a.m. shoot.”
“Come on.”
“I’m knackered. You blokes get to sleep all day.”
“Man, the guys are going to start to think you’re gay.”
“Like hell.”
“A wowser then?”
He remembered at lunch Ava saying Victoria could act all wowsery, but that’s all it was. An act for his benefit. Whether she was fighting her attraction to him or trying to sabotage his co-hosting job remained to be seen.
“Don’t tell me you think you’re in love?”
“What makes you think that?” Russ scoffed.
“Turning down a sure thing means a man is whipped. You’re wasting a golden opportunity here.”
“Man, I’m so single, I make George Clooney look like a married man.” In actuality he might as well be a monk, contrary to what the Australian tabloids wrote about him. But his fellow Aussie didn’t need to know that or that Russ was falling for a pixie in high heels.
Brady laughed. “Then come. You have a reputation to uphold.”
Russ shook his head.
“You’ll regret it.”
“I will when the alarm sounds. When I have a day off, I promise.”
“Some hotties are going to be disappointed.”
Russ didn’t want some, he wanted one in particular. “I’m sure you’ll find a way to satisfy them all.”
“I’m just one man, Rowland.” Brady snapped a towel at Russ’s knees. “Just one man,” he repeated before heading into the dressing room to change for the finale.
He picked up his tool belt and cut-away jeans, part of his handyman costume for the show, and followed Brady.
***
Back at his So-Ho apartment, he stood in front of the hot spray of the shower. He needed a degreaser to get all the gunk off his body. He soaped up all the same, but wished it was Victoria’s hands doing the lathering. His cock grew hard. Damn, Brady was right. I should’ve gone out after the show.
But instead of feeling regret, Russ stroked, thinking of Victoria’s tiny bowed lips doing the work instead of his own hand. He rested his head on his forearm, which he placed against the wall of the shower to hold himself steady. The water pulsed down onto the taut muscles of his shoulders and back. His pace quickened.
Wicked thoughts of Victoria raced through his mind. He pictured giving her a lap dance as she caressed his body. Taking off his thong, he’d put her mouth to better use than telling him he was late. Ahh, yeah. He pumped faster. They traded places and Victoria shimmied out of her skirt, wearing black-laced panties and thigh-high stockings. Harder. Slowly she stripped off her shirt to reveal a black bra. The pink tips of her breasts are ready for … Russ exploded into his hand as a series of groans echoed off the shower walls.
Should sleep like a rock tonight.
But in bed Russ tossed and turned, his mind racing like a tricycle doing a constant 360. He tried to tell himself he was just nervous about the shoot, like everyone was the night before the first day of school. But he could lie all he wanted to himself, in the morning Russ would have to face Victoria with a straight face knowing he jerked off in the shower while fantasizing about her in a very un-Victorian like manner. More disturbing to Russ’s troubled mind was his still rock-hard erection. Dancing for a thousand screaming women and all he could think about was being Victoria’s own personal handyman.
Chapter 7
Victoria stood outside the Johnson’s Staten Island home and unwisely took another sip of coffee. Already a hot mess of nerves, caffeine was the last thing she needed, but due to lack of sleep she had no choice. Normally anxious on the first day of taping an episode, the p
erils of breaking in a new co-host only added to the long list of what could go wrong. Especially when Russ was playing a starring role in her nighttime fantasies. As long as he didn’t sneak into her daydreams, she’d be fine. She brought the cup to her lips for another hit.
“G’day, luv.”
Victoria jumped and coffee spilt on her outfit. Damn. Putting a mental check mark on the list next to ‘wardrobe change,’ she refused to ask the universe what could go wrong next. She turned, trying to brush off her blouse, unprepared for the full impact of seeing Russ in the flesh again.
The morning sun bounced off his tousled hair, picking up every highlight. His thumbs were hooked into the belt loops of his tight jeans, a grey t-shirt clung to his chest and he didn’t even try to pretend he wasn’t staring at her breasts.
She shifted her gaze down. The cream silk was soaked through like a spring break wet t-shirt contest. The lacy, barely-there bra offered no coverage. She brought up her arms to cover herself.
His stance stayed perfectly relaxed like he practiced it in front of a mirror, but his stare was lethal as his gaze met hers. She knew she was supposed to say something. She blurted the first thing that came to her mind. “You’re early.”
“I would say I arrived just in time.”
Victoria shivered. Hot memories of last night flashed in her mind and she fantasized it was him and not her hand doing the job. Her body flushed from head to toe. Desperate for a moment to collect herself, she started to walk up the concrete steps of the house. “I need to change.”
Russ let out a long breath. “The ratings would sure go through the roof if you didn’t.”
“This is family show.” She threw the words over her shoulder and caught him staring at her backside again. Pig. But what did that make her? Hadn’t she ogled him? Though she was a little more discreet. I am, aren’t I?
She let the screen door slam behind her. Grabbing her overnight case, she headed toward the bathroom.
Victoria groaned as she got a full look in mirror. She’d given Russ quite a show. Her 32Cs wet and cold, were ready and waiting for his wet, hot mouth. She shivered again but this time she blamed it on the air conditioning. She peeled off the blouse and struggled out of the bra, almost ripping it.
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