by Virna DePaul
Although she felt herself softening, Melina didn’t reach out to her friend. This challenge had been Grace’s idea. Maybe she needed it more than Melina did. She hadn’t dated in almost a year, convinced that if she couldn’t even attain pleasure with a man, there was no point in putting up with one. Lucy, on the other hand, put so much stock on pleasure that she often put up with a man’s failings longer than she should. Melina turned to her friend, keeping her face impassive despite the scowl on Lucy’s face. Lucy’s birthday wasn’t for a few months, but it was a big one, the big 3-0.
“Lucy thinks she should get a pass on this one,” Lucy said. “I’m fearless when it comes to sex, you know that. I’ve tried everything there is to try. There’s no reason—”
“You fear intimacy,” Grace said gently. “You only date jerks, guys who are never going to commit to you—”
“Just because I happen to love brooding, creative men with an edge does not mean I fear intimacy,” Lucy protested.
“It’s one weekend, Lucy. One weekend with a nice guy you normally wouldn’t give a second look,” Melina clarified.
“A nice guy?” Lucy looked outraged. “Oh, sure. For your birthday weekend, you get to ask a hot friend to show you everything he knows in bed. Grace gets to have someone pleasure her for two days straight or die trying. What do I get? A nice guy who probably doesn’t know a cock-ring from a cockatoo.” She held up a hand to forestall Melina’s response. “But fine. If you two can do it, then so can I.”
Lucy paused and smiled sweetly, which—from her—was the equivalent of a big, flashing “danger” sign. “I call the stakes. Anyone who puts their plan in motion and sticks with it the entire birthday weekend, regardless of the results, gets a full day of pampering at Silk Spa. Anyone who chickens out has to get up in front of my Women’s Studies 101 class and explain why. In excruciating detail. And answer questions afterwards.”
Lucy stuck out her hand, palm down. After a brief hesitation, Grace placed her hand gently on top of it. Melina’s hands curled into fists. Her gaze landed on the magazine that Lucy had been reading, the one with the sex survey she’d read through earlier. She’d committed one paragraph to memory: “Of those people who are very satisfied with their sex lives, ninety percent are also very satisfied with their marriage or committed relationship overall. The less sexually satisfied people reported being, the less satisfied they were with their marriage or partnership.”
It sounded so simple, she thought. Keep a man satisfied and he’d be less likely to stray, right? Continually blow a man’s mind in bed, and he’d be yours for life. In that way, men weren’t unlike the bugs Melina studied—give them what they wanted and they’d give back to you.
With Max as her teacher, she’d learn to keep a man sexually satisfied. And she was an excellent student. She’d just never given that particular skill her total focus. Once she did, how hard could it be?
She shakily laid her hand on Grace’s.
She’d never have Rhys. Maybe being with Max was the next best thing. One thing was for sure, though. Given the parameters that Lucy had set, none of them was backing out of this challenge.
***
“So, when do you leave for Sacramento?” Rhys called to Max. He tried to sound nonchalant, focusing his attention on lifting the supple, feminine leg and placing the delicate ankle in the leather restraint. He refused to look at Max, instead tugging the leather to make sure the restraint held firm. Then he did the same thing with the woman’s other leg, ending with a playful growl that caused her to giggle.
Satisfied that she was now fully restrained, he continued to play his part, absently dragging his fingertips up the inside of her gently curved calf and then her soft, pale thigh, continuing the journey over a lush hip, nipped waist, generous breast and upraised arm until he grasped the single restraint that bound her two fragile wrists together. Max still hadn’t answered.
Standing directly in front of the bound woman, his feet braced apart, his chest just brushing her magnificent breasts, he turned to look at his brother. “Max?”
His brother wasn’t paying any attention to him. Instead, he was staring at the floor, his brows flexed. Rhys sighed, released the leather restraint that was suspended from the contraption on a chain, and smiled at Laura. “Give me a second?”
Laura chewed her gum and winked. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Rhys marveled at the huskiness of her voice. Although she was dressed in a modest leotard and tights rather than the skimpy sequined outfit she wore during a performance, everything from her voice to her polished toes was a walking wet dream. It wasn’t necessarily an act, either. Even when she was lecturing her teenage son about doing his homework, she still managed to sound like a sex phone operator. Striding toward Max, who leaned against the stage left wall, Rhys rolled his shoulders and tried to suppress his impatience.
It figured that the moment their dream was within reach, Max would get into one of his brooding moods. Normally, Rhys could tolerate and compensate for Max’s moods, just like Max did for him, but with the recent back-to-back rehearsals combined with the time he was spending working the kinks out of the Dalton Brother’s newest stage trick—the most spectacular one to date—his tolerance was spent. Next week’s show had to go off without a hitch. Add to this stress the fact that Melina’s birthday was coming up? Exhausted didn’t even begin to describe how he was feeling.
“Max? Max!”
Max blinked and straightened, his far-away gaze focusing on Rhys and then on Laura, who still hung in the customized apparatus behind them. He raked a hand through his already disheveled hair and jerked his chin at Rhys. “Did you need me to test out those restraints now?”
Rhys smiled tightly. “I’m sure Laura can wait until her hands go numb if you need a few more minutes in la-la land.”
Shaking his head, Max strode to Laura. “Sorry about that, babe. I was just thinking.”
Behind him, Rhys snorted. “I thought we agreed that until we land the contract with Seven Seas, you’d let me do the thinking while you focused on flexing your muscles and shaking your ass at the audience.”
“What would it matter if it was my ass or yours? The audience rarely knows the difference.”
Rhys hung his head. When Max was right, he was right. The whole mystique around the Dalton Twin’s Magic Show was that the audience knew the magician performing that night was an identical twin; they just didn’t know which one. Not until the end of the show. The problem was that he was more and more content to let Max be the performer so that he could do what he liked best—focus on managing the act and inventing new tricks. He’d had to step up the number of his own performances or risk losing the mystery hook altogether. Plus, once they unveiled their new trick, Rhys wouldn’t get a reprieve for a good long time. Floating Metamorphosis would be spectacular only if the audience saw both Dalton twins on stage at the same time.
After tugging on the restraints like a volunteer from the audience would do, Max nodded his head at Lou, one of the backstage assistants. As Lou began to loosen the restraints, Max absently patted Laura’s hip. In response, Laura blew Max an air kiss.
Laura and Lou left the stage, but not before Laura shot a seductive backward glance at Max. Suddenly, the fact that the two of them had sauntered into practice half-an-hour late, their hair mussed and looking like they’d barely slept, took on new meaning. Rhys glowered at his brother. “Jesus, Max, you just couldn’t keep your hands off, could you? Not even for a few weeks?”
Max shrugged and held out his palms in a “what of it” gesture.
“What happens when you piss her off and she quits the night of a show? Are you trying to screw up everything we’ve worked for?”
“You’re not giving Laura enough credit. She’s a big girl. Last night was fun, but she’s still got a thing for her ex. She’s driving up to see him this weekend. And her son, too, of course.”
“That’s not the point,” Rhys snapped. “I’ve had to double securit
y since we caught Joey Salvador trying to sneak back stage. Seven Seas is insisting that we come up with a G-rated proposal for their family night performances. And let’s not forget that after tonight’s show, I’m going to have to get everything packed up and shipped to Reno on my own, while you jet to California for the weekend. Things are crazy enough around here without me having to worry about your sex life, too.”
Grim-faced, Max opened his mouth to respond, but a voice off stage stopped him. It was their father. “Boys, your mother’s about to have a stroke. Jillian insists we need to shake things up for the Seven Seas folks and replace your black tie and cumber bunds with something that matches the girls’ outfits. I think they’re getting ready to battle it out. Come quick!”
Forgetting for a moment why he was so pissed, Rhys looked at Max. He was sure his face reflected the same horror that Max’s did. Their stage assistants wore shimmery sequined costumes in colors ranging from rose to fuchsia. No matter what Jillian called it, it was still pink to Rhys.
Max cursed. “Are you done flaying me? Cause I for one don’t want to go on stage looking like a pansy.”
Rhys swiped his hands over his face before shaking his head. What was the point? Max was just being Max. It wasn’t his fault Rhys was wound so tight. Not really. “Fuck. Forget it. I’m just tired. I’ll go deal with Jillian.” He paused, then muttered, “Tell Melina happy birthday for me.”
Rhys hadn’t taken more than four steps before Max clapped a hand on his shoulder, yanking him back a step. “Why don’t you tell her yourself? I know I haven’t been pulling my weight lately. I’ll stay. You use my ticket and surprise Melina.” Max grinned. “See if she notices the switch this time.”
Rhys managed to smile. When they’d been younger, he and Max had played the same stupid games with Melina that they’d played with everyone else. They’d taken turns pretending to be one twin while subtly urging their victims to say something derogatory about the other. Melina was the only one who’d never fallen for it. Not once. She had an uncanny ability to tell them apart, even from a distance. That was one of the things that had drawn him to her in the first place.
It was also why, when he’d found her kissing Max on the night of her sixteenth birthday, there’d been no telling himself she’d really meant to kiss him.
Rhys’s smile vanished at the memory. That kiss had interfered with two friendships over the years—his friendship with Melina and his friendship with his brother. Max and Melina’s kiss had apparently been a one time deal, but it had still enflamed the sense of discomfort he’d already felt when they were all together. He’d fought that discomfort for close to ten years by trying to remain Melina’s friend. All it had done was make it impossible for him to get over her.
His plan had been working though. By minimizing their contact over the past two years, he was finally beginning to miss her less. Hell, he could now go hours—days even—without thinking of her, and his focus was exactly where it should be—on his family, their act, and ensuring the continued success of both.
Max gave him a shove. “My ticket’s in my dressing room. If you pack now, you can leave right after the show and—”
Shaking his head, Rhys couldn’t quite meet his brother’s eyes. “I can’t,” he clipped out. “There’s too much to do.”
“What’s to do? The crew knows how to pack up without us. The Salvador Brothers wouldn’t dare show their faces around here again. And as far as Seven Sea’s ridiculous request for a kiddie show goes, they can shove it—”
Rhys raised his brows pointedly, causing Max’s words to trail off. He grimaced. “Too much?”
“Just a little.”
“I can tone it down. I know Melina would love to see you—”
“No,” Rhys said, shaking his head again. “You’re the one she feels comfortable around. She always has.”
“Damn it, Rhys, she’s not a kid anymore. And she’s had a crush on you for years.”
Rhys jerked back as if his brother had hauled off and punched him. He immediately narrowed his eyes in warning. “I’m not a substitute for you or anyone, Max. I never will be.”
His brother flushed guiltily. “It was one kiss and she didn’t even initiate it—”
“Yeah, so you told me, but we’re talking ancient history. I got over her a long time ago.” The two of them, mirror images, stared at each other, and it was his turn to flush. Unwilling to face his own dishonesty, he stared at the stage floor.
“When did you turn into a liar?” Max asked quietly. “And more importantly, when did you start to think I was an idiot? We work together. We’re brothers. You don’t think I can read you?”
Rhys’s face jerked up. “Yeah, well maybe that’s the problem.”
“Now we have a problem?”
“You think you know me, but you don’t. Just like you don’t really know Melina. If you did, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. Even if she did want me for more than your stand-in, I can’t give her what she wants any more than you can.”
“Speak for yourself.” His gaze dropped to Rhys’s groin. “Something happen I don’t know about?”
“Asshole,” Rhys gritted. He reached out and punched Max on the shoulder with a little more force than necessary. “I’m talking about stability. Roots.”
His brother rubbed the spot where he’d hit him. “Oh.”
“Yeah. Oh. You know she’s prime mother material. She’s got a job she loves. She wants the white picket fence, 2.2 kids. I can’t give that to her.”
“Maybe she doesn’t know what she wants. Maybe she wants to travel. Going on the road could be an adventure.”
“She could travel. She chooses not to. Not even with her parents. Even if she’d consider it, it wouldn’t be for the long term. You really think she’d do that to her kids? The childhood we had, Max—” He lifted his arms and encompassed the entire theater in one sweeping motion. “The life we have now, isn’t conventional. It’s not what most people want.”
“It sounds like maybe it’s not what you want anymore. Is that it?”
Unease tickled at his brain. He could feel it. They were about to become big—really big—and he was used to the lifestyle. Maybe at one time he’d wanted something different, but that had probably just been a grass is greener on the other side moment. “Are you kidding? I’ve never liked traveling as much as you, but if we land this contract with Seven Seas, we’ll at least have our own theater. No more moving from one place to another every two weeks. We’re at the top of our game. It’s what you’ve always wanted.”
“You mean we.”
“What?”
Max stared at him. “You mean it’s what we’ve always wanted.”
“Sure. You. Mom and Dad. Me. We. That’s what I meant.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Boys!” Their dad poked his head around the corner, his sparse hair sticking up in tufts as if he’d been pulling at it. “Fair warning. I’m not the one who’s going to go on stage in sequins.”
“I’m coming, Dad.” Shaking his head, Rhys began walking backwards. “Look, I don’t know how we got on this ridiculous topic. Melina and I are friends. I’m happy with the act. Everything’s cool.” Turning so he wouldn’t have to see the doubt on his brother’s face any longer, Rhys strode toward back stage. Over his shoulder, he called, “Take her out. Make her feel special. And tell her I’ll see her… well, I’ll see her sometime.”
Rhys forced himself to keep walking despite the little voice in his head screaming that he was a coward. Hell, he wasn’t a coward, he was just realistic.
He had his life and Melina had hers. Plus, he’d told Max the truth—their goals were so far apart that they might as well live on opposite ends of the world. Still, he thought with a sigh after opening the door to the costume room, he’d been tempted by Max’s offer more than he should have been. Especially because he’d wanted Melina to mistake him for Max.
Just once, he’d have liked Melina greet him the same way she did M
ax. With open arms and an open smile instead of a friendly but reserved detachment that always left him wanting more.
CHAPTER 2
Dalton’s Magic Rule #3: Learn from those with more experience.
“Teach me how to please a man.”
Max, who’d just taken a gulp of his beer, choked on it and kept coughing until Melina rose from her chair and began slapping his back. Putting down the bottle, he raised his hands, wheezed, and gently nudged her away. “I’m fine. I just—I think I misunderstood—”
Face flaming but trying to act nonchalant, Melina returned to the chair next to the sofa, crossed her legs, and smoothed her wool skirt so that it covered her knees. “You heard me right. I want you to teach me how to please a man.”
He stared at her with rounded eyes that quickly narrowed. Making a big show of looking around her small, neat living room, he muttered, “Is this a joke? Did Rhys put you up to this?”
She leaned forward and waved her hand in front of his face, knowing it would annoy him. “Focus, Max. I’m not joking.”
Grinning now, Max swatted her hand away and wiggled his eyebrows up and down. “Oh really? So what, you’re suddenly hot for my body? Not that I blame you, but—”
“Will you stop?” she hissed. “I’m being serious here.” She ripped her wrist out of his grip and stood, turning her back to him even as she hugged her arms close to her chest. Where were her friends and her Ben and Jerry’s ice cream when she needed them? Knowing she had no choice, she forced herself to continue. “I—I suck in bed.”
The stunned silence behind her was deafening. Embarrassment threatened to swallow her whole, and she had to forcibly stop herself from running into the next room.
“Hey, that can be a good thing,” Max joked, but his attempt at humor was obviously strained.