by Sara Hooper
“Peter?”
He kept his eyes and his smile on the audience. “Stay cool, Alice.”
“I just… I just want to say… if this is it…”
“It’s not.”
“But…”
“Just trust me.”
He didn’t have to ask that. Alice trusted him. He could have had his way with her when she was too drunk to thing better of it, but Peter remained a gentleman. He knew the right thing to do. The voters at home were another question.
“The act…that’s going home…is…”
Could he please hurry this along!
“Dar Plus Ten.”
Alice nearly fell forward where she stood as Peter drew her back to his side. His arms folded around her. She saw Darlene smile sadly as she nodded. Alice’s eyes filled with tears as The Shark asked her how she was feeling.
“Probably not so hot,” Peter whispered.
Alice pulled away from him and stood under her own strength as Darlene took the mike. “Just want to say, this was a great opportunity. A lot of fun.” Darlene looked into Alice’s eyes. “And if it can’t be me, then vote for this girl!”
Alice was touched, and Darlene pulled Alice into a hug. “Dar…”
“I mean it, Alice. Go for the gold.” Darlene kissed her head and took her place with the rejected musicians.
“Okay! So here’s the deal, ladies and gents. Your final three will perform tomorrow night. And we’re mixing it up again.”
Alice found Peter’s hand. She couldn’t take another shakeup, and she didn’t want to be paired with anyone else.
“So these guys will do their thing, and your votes will be live. Someone’s going home after one last shot.”
That was unexpected. Alice had been so sure that the network would milk their agony over the course of three more long weeks, but then she realized that the urgency of the voting coupled with the promise of an instant champion would generate more buzz than The Shark’s pauses. This show was its own stroke of genius. They could run seemingly infinite seasons in the space of a single calendar year if this was how they rolled.
“Judges? What do you think?”
Arnold voiced his support for Porter and Louis. Wesley made no bones about his stance as Team Marissa.
But Leticia Shore had the last word. “I like Alice’s chances. I think they’re hot.”
Even Wesley nodded as the audience cheered. “I’ve made my pick. But artistry aside, there is no denying the chemistry,” he said.
Alice was feeling what everyone else saw. She could still win this at Peter’s side. It suddenly seemed the best place to be.
Peter’s arms were around her again. The audience cheered, and she smiled up at him. Her eyes left Peter’s for a second, and she saw Marissa Michaels’ icy stare. Alice trusted Peter, but she was suddenly uneasy at the prospect of what her competitor might do to win.
Sparks Fly
Once they returned to the hotel, Peter suggested the roof. The promise of fresh air was too enticing to pass up, and they returned to their familiar spot. When Peter closed the door and they were finally safe from judges and Marissa, Alice sank to the ground and held her face in her hands.
“Poor Dar,” Alice said. “She would have stayed if it wasn’t for Ella.”
Peter sat at her side and patted her leg. “I’m not so sure. Ella’s antics would have been good for the show. But silver lining–we were always safe.”
He said it without rancor, and Alice took his hand. “I feel safe. Peter…”
He pulled her close to him.
As expected, he was awash in a smoky perfume. To her surprise, Alice liked the smell and folded her arms around him. “I still want to win, Peter. I didn’t want Dar to go home. But I don’t want to go home. I want to stay. I want to stay with you.” Alice caught herself speaking the total truth, and she moved away from him.
Peter’s soft smile became a laugh. “Really? My lady! I had no idea you felt this way.”
Alice had overshared, and she knew from experience that Peter was slow to forget everything and anything that she might say. “I meant… I meant that I want to stay with you for the show.”
“And for no other reason?” he teased.
“No… I mean… I don’t…” Alice had to stop while she was barely ahead, and she thought of her bed. She stumbled as she rose, but Peter caught her before she fell.
“Easy, Alice. I said I wouldn’t let you down.”
Peter Brandt played the jerk in service of an image that just wasn’t. Maybe he had yet to succeed because he pegged himself as the surly antagonist when he was really a kind of hero.
Alice wanted him to accept what he was, and she wanted to be that for him. “I… I won’t let you down either. But what do we do to win?”
His pale hands touched her ebony face. Peter was not anything close to what she had ever dreamed, but now he was hers, and Alice waited for him to say something brilliant. Peter said nothing. Alice stopped blinking at the anticipation of something genius. Still nothing.
If this was going to happen, she’d have to make the first move. “You need to dance, Peter.”
He shrugged her off with a nervous laugh. “Alice, come on.”
“No really. Simple waltz. You already showed me that you can.”
He narrowed his eyes and cocked his head.
“Well…I mean you have the basics down. It’s not that hard.”
“Maybe. And what am I supposed to do while you go all graceful?”
“First things first. Just follow my lead.”
Peter gave the briefest of protests under her touch, but Alice quickly had his arms around her waist as her hand grazed his neck. She hummed lightly, and expected him to be surer this time around. It would make sense given how far they had come. Together.
But now Alice felt him trembling. “It’s okay, Peter.”
“Alice, I can’t---”
“Take it slow.”
The fact that he suddenly seemed to have no concept of when to turn her was the least of their problems. Peter’s toes repeatedly smashed into her feet. Alice hissed at each impact as he apologized, but she made every effort not to cry out and show the extent of the pain she knew he did not intend.
“Sorry,” he said.
“It’s okay, Peter. You just have to relax. Look at me.”
He did as he was told and focused on her face. Alice slowed their pace until they were barely moving. This was doing nothing to aid their cause with the judges and the voters, but the closeness of their bodies coupled with the cool of the night had other advantages. He lifted her face to his and kissed her tenderly. Alice lingered in his lips until he pulled away with a smile.
“Maybe we could just do this. Betcha they’d lap it up.”
It was tempting, but then Alice had the idea. “How about this? We do what we did tonight. We tack on a new ending where you tell me that in spite everything you haven’t done, you still have a surprise for me.”
“Okay. And what’s my gift?”
She leaned closer to him. “You say that you’ve learned how to dance. Only…only you haven’t really done that either. But I’ll be touched. Because you’re trying. Like you are now. And we finish with…” Alice’s mouth met his again. She could feel Peter laughing under her kiss.
He was obviously on board. “Nice, my lady,” he said. “Let’s run through it.”
Despite the lateness of the hour, they returned to the rehearsal space. Marissa and Kevin were there, but Alice tuned them out and focused all of her energy on Peter and the performance. She barely noticed that Marissa had stopped rehearsing and was simply studying them.
Alice finally broke away from Peter. “You have a problem?” Alice asked.
Marissa smirked and snapped her fingers as she ordered Kevin to follow her out of the room. Was he limping?
Before Alice could ask, Marissa got in her face. “Me? No. But you might.”
Alice trembled a bit in Marissa’s wake. She d
idn’t trust her and wished that she had pulled an Ella and somehow been removed from the contest. But that wasn’t Marissa’s style.
“Forget her,” Peter said. “She’s all talk. I think…I think we got this, my lady.”
Alice agreed and let out a long yawn.
“And now we should grab some shut-eye.”
Alice left a note with the sound guy. They’d need a waltz cued up and ready to go for the climax.
Darlene’s abandoned bed had yet to be made up by the hotel staff, and Alice sat on it sadly.
“You okay?” he asked.
Alice looked up at him. If it were possible, Peter seemed to be growing more handsome with each second that passed between them. She wanted his mouth on hers again, and she wanted more.
She moved to her bed and turned down the sheets. “Care to join me?”
Alice had never been so bold with any man. Peter smiled and started to undress. She imagined the feel of his body pressing into hers, his lips on her neck, her naval, her breasts.
He sat across from her on Darlene’s bed and suddenly seemed shy. Alice had to think that she had done something wrong or at least misread the situation. What she had took to be a mutual attraction in their ongoing dance might be nothing more than the dance that they had to perform before a live audience.
“Guess not?” she said as she started up towards the bathroom.
“Wait.”
She resumed her seat and folded her arms as she crossed her legs.
“What?” she asked.
Peter sighed as he leaned forward and offered his hands. Alice didn’t take them. Either he explained himself or she’d stay still.
“Well, I… I wouldn’t want you to get the wrong idea about me?”
Any ideas that she had were more than notions in her head. Was he talented? Sure. Arrogant? From the moment they met. A good partner when push came to shove? Surprisingly, yes.
“What are you talking about?”
“I…”
He moved to the bar and poured himself a stiff drink. After he drained the glass, he scanned her carefully.
“I’m a lot of things, Alice. But I’m not one to take advantage of a situation. Even if she’s a beautiful one.”
Alice could have taken offense to an aversion to holding her disguised as chivalry, but she knew him well enough to sense when he was being straight with her. Peter didn’t want to screw one more thing up, and it fell to Alice to assure him that anything but was about to happen.
She left her bed and pressed her fingers into his arms.
“You’re not taking advantage of anything,” she said.
He sighed as he finally got hold of her hand and rested his mouth on her palm.
“Bet you would have told a different story on the train.”
Then he seemed like a jerk that needed to be done away with, but in short order he was transformed into someone she grudgingly respected. Now she trusted him, and finally knew him, Alice wanted to know more.
“I would have. Thought we were done with that.”
Peter fell against her, and Alice wrapped her arms around his body. He felt strong and solid under her touch. Alice started to undo the buttons of his shirt, and ran his hands against her thighs as their eyes met.
“What if we don’t win?” Peter asked. “Will you still like me then?”
She nodded quickly. An almost washed up comedian wasn’t every woman’s desire, but right now, and maybe forever, it was Alice’s.
He lightly touched her face and slowly lowered her lips to his.
They kissed.
Peter tasted of the drink and cigarettes, but those sensations evaporated as his tongued curled around hers with expert tenderness. Alice made no move to break away from his mouth, and Peter removed his jacket, his shirt. Alice’s hands went for his belt, and has his pants fell to the floor, she giggled at the sight of his boxers.
“What?” Peter asked.
“Figured you for briefs,” Alice said.
Peter snapped the elastic about his waist.
“I keep it loose and free,” he said.
Alice was about to put that theory to the test.
She lifted her shirt and stripped off her panties. As she reclined on her bed, she stared at him hard.
“It’s okay, Peter. This is everything I want,” she said.
Peter moved to the foot of the bed.
“More than winning?”
Alice was slow to answer, and as Peter turned his head away with a strange smile, Alice feared losing the chance to lie with whim.
“Always honest, my lady. I love it.”
He offered his hand again, and this time Alice took it without hesitation. She pulled him to the bed, and he was out of his boxers. As she kissed him again, her hand reached down his back and settled on his firm ass. Despite the years of hard living, he was in better shape than most men half his age. Her hand drifted up his back as his moved from her throat to her thighs, and as he touched the most sensitive part of her mound, Alice felt her body growing warm and wet as his fingers danced around her soft flesh. There was no fighting the opening of her body, and Peter’s fingers slipped inside her. She tingled around his touch, and Alice moaned as he spread her legs wider.
“I love that,” Alice moaned.
He kept his finger within her walls and stroked her core with care. Alice sighed as she reached for his wrist and pressed him deeper.
“Alice?”
Even as she basked in his current penetration, she wanted to feel another part or him, a stronger part. As she pulled his finger away, she craned her body forward and enfolded her flexible legs around his tense torso.
“Touch me again,” she said.
Peter stroked her hair. A part of Alice couldn’t believe that she was the one that had to tell him exactly where she wanted him to go, but Peter soon caught on and eased his piece into her quivering body.
Alice moaned once she felt him secure his virile tool. Arching her head back, she started to move with Peter’s throbbing piece, and he took hold of her shoulders and followed her lead.
“Do you really want to dance, Alice?”
Wordlessly, she nodded, and his hands trailed down her back until he clutched her closer to his chest. Then he moved slowly, steadily. Alice felt his flesh melt into hers. Every time he seemed on the verge of filling her, Peter drew back, and Alice mourned the loss of that which was so near. Repeating the motion again and again drove her to the point where Alice struggled to find her voice, and her hands squeezed his skin as he teased her mound.
She could take it no more. The need to know him on every level superseded everything else, and she grabbed his hair as she focused on his blue eyes.
“Please, Peter. It has to be now.”
His piece lingered for a second before drifting away. The wait was killing her, and Peter seized the space before conquest to hold her face and run the finger that had known her below across the shape of her lips.
“Let’s win now, Alice.”
Peter’s palm flattened on her back, and he drove his body deeper. As he filled her, Alice lost all sense of time and space at the vibration within, and she clutched him closer as he finally, beautifully, exploded inside her. Alice let the flood pour through her veins, and she cried out as the impact ended in a glorious rush.
Holding him, Alice lowered her head to his tight shoulder and thanked his skin with a soft kiss. Peter stayed inside as he softened. It was as if he wanted to linger for as long as possible. His fingers played about her spine, and when she finally found the strength to meet his eyes, Alice saw a satisfied gaze that told the tale of already winning the grand prize.
“That was amazing, Alice. But I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
He kissed her softly as he finally fell away. The loss of his piece sent Alice to the pillows, and she breathed hard as Peter settled beside her.
“You okay?” he asked as he caressed her face.
Alice turned her head to his and smile
d happily. Beating Marissa and the mime was a longshot, but this felt like the surest thing she had ever chanced upon.
“Perfect. You?”
Peter nuzzled her neck and kissed her ear.
“Nice.”
Nice? Was that all she was? Alice started to stretch her weary body away from the bed when Peter pulled her back to his side and kissed her head.
“Beyond nice. Beyond perfect. There are some moments in life for which there are no words.”
They kissed. She settled against his shoulder, and Peter held her close.
“Sleep, my lady. Tomorrow’s a big day. Maybe we’ll even do an encore of this.”
Alice looked forward to that more than victory, and those thoughts consumed her as exhaustion took over and she fell asleep.
The Missing Comedian
Alice was unsure of the hour when she awoke. It took her a moment to remember that Peter had spent the night, and she reached for his sleeping form.
He was nowhere to be found.
She jumped up and searched for him in the bathroom
Not there.
He was probably back in his room, getting ready. Alice followed suit and went to the neighboring door. She knocked again and again. And again. Was he already in the lobby? Why hadn’t he waited for her?
For a moment, Alice fell back on her first impression. Was this just a game? Was he really so petty that he would ease her into a sense of false security and pull the rug out from under her at the last possible second? Could he really be that cold?
No. He couldn’t. He wasn’t. Not after last night.
Alice raced down to the lobby and fell into arms that weren’t Peter’s.
“Louis?”
He looked distressed to the point of tears. Alice started to ask what was wrong when she saw the problem. Or rather, she didn’t see it. For the first time since they had met, Louis was without his secret weapon. Another dummy was where Mortimer had always been.
“Louis? Where’s---?”
“I don’t know!”
“What do you mean you don’t---?”