What was she supposed to do to stop the invasion?
Lucky would go totally ape shit if she ever found out what was going on. Max knew she’d be grounded for weeks, maybe even months. Life as she knew it would be over.
Although, wait a minute, she thought. I’m about to turn eighteen; they can’t ground me.
Or can they?
What they could do was cut off her allowance and not pay for her ticket to New York and the six months’ rent on an apartment Lucky had promised her as a birthday present.
Pulling herself together, she confronted the girls trying to force their way into Lucky’s bedroom.
They told her to screw off.
She yelled back at them that it was her house and they could screw off or she’d call the cops and accuse them of trespassing.
They retaliated with a few obscene gestures and insults, then staggered off.
Max wished she had invited Ace. He’d know what to do. She didn’t. As far as she was concerned, her party had turned into an uncontrollable nightmare, and she was totally helpless to do anything about it.
Lucky would know how to handle it. Lucky knew how to handle anything.
Dammit. Why couldn’t she be more like her mom in situations such as this?
* * *
The insistent buzz of his doorbell awoke Bobby with a sudden start. Groping for his watch, he noted it was four A.M.
Goddammit! Who was outside his apartment at four in the morning? And what the fuck was his doorman doing that he allowed someone to come up unannounced?
Muttering to himself, he rolled out of bed and headed for the door in nothing but his Calvins.
Then he stopped. Dead still. There was only one person who would have the balls to come calling at this time. Zeena.
Of course!
The doorbell continued to ring, and he stood silently in his hallway trying to figure out his next move.
It suddenly occurred to him that there was only one answer, and that was to do absolutely nothing and hope the predatory superstar would slink away into the night. It wasn’t the first time she’d turned up at his apartment at some unearthly hour. She was one hell of a persistent woman, who when she wanted something, expected to get it. And tonight she obviously wanted him.
They had a history. Once upon a time he’d harbored a slight crush. She’d turned up at his New York apartment and they’d gone at it like a couple of wild things. One time was enough. Crush over. But the unfortunate thing was that she’d continued to pursue him, culminating in the embarrassing shower scene on the night of his first date with Denver. That was some memory.
He’d had no contact with her since, and tonight he’d been pleased to note she was with her latest conquest.
Apparently her latest conquest wasn’t enough to satisfy Zeena, for now she was on his doorstep.
And what was he supposed to do about that?
Exactly nothing.
* * *
“Who wants to come to a party in Malibu?” Frankie asked Billy, Willow, and their assorted hangers-on.
“Whose party?” Billy wanted to know.
“Does anyone care?” Willow retorted, always up for a fun time. “It’ll be our party when we get there, no doubt about that.”
They’d all been hanging out in the club for a while, during which time Frankie had presented them with primo weed and made sure all their drinks were comped. Willow’s crazy girlfriends were dancing on the tables to Katy Perry, while Willow watched them cavort, a secret smile playing around her glossy lips as she anticipated the scene that would take place later.
Billy sat back, downing a vodka or two. He looked bored. He was bored. The session with the girl he’d picked up on Melrose had not satisfied him. Momentarily, yes. But somehow he craved more than a fast blow job beside his pool. Lately he’d been thinking that it might be refreshing to find someone he could conduct an actual conversation with.
Willow was certainly not that person, nor were her nubile groupies. But that’s what he seemed to be stuck with—for now.
Meanwhile, Frankie was buzzing. Having celebrities in his club was a plus, especially as he got off on spending time with anyone famous. Celebrities validated his existence.
Cookie had phoned several times asking when he was getting to the Malibu party. The last time she’d called he’d assured her he was on his way, and since Cookie was his pathway to bigger and better, he wasn’t about to let her down. Arriving with Willow and Billy—two of the hottest stars around—would definitely impress her.
After a while he rounded up Billy, Willow, and the girls. “Got a couple of limos downstairs. Time to bounce,” he informed them. “Refreshments in the limos,” he added with a knowing wink, wondering if he stood half a chance with Willow—although rumor had it that she was a tried-and-true carpet muncher.
But hey, he was Frankie Romano. Who knew what could happen?
* * *
Feeling out of her depth, Max grabbed a bottle of beer and fled down to the beach. She didn’t know what else to do. Maybe if she stayed away from the chaos, everyone would go home.
Wishful thinking.
Whose dumb idea was it to have a party in the first place?
Mine! Mine! Mine!
As for Cookie and Harry, the two of them were useless. She’d thought they were at least loyal, but they’d turned into party animals, thinking only of themselves. Although she didn’t blame Harry so much. He’d finally found a gay dude he could latch onto, and he wasn’t about to let the opportunity go to waste.
Why can’t I enjoy myself too? she thought. Just get stoned and drunk like everyone else?
Because there’s no one I can enjoy things with. Besides, I’m a Santangelo—gotta stay alert.
She slumped down on the sand, closed her eyes, and allowed the hypnotic sound of the waves crashing on the sand to wash over her.
* * *
After spending an awkward couple of hours with Carolyn and Vanessa, Denver drove home filled with mixed emotions. What was Carolyn thinking? How could she simply decide she was gay and that was it?
They’d been best friends since they were twelve. They’d shared everything—all their thoughts and dreams and problems with the men in their lives. Now Carolyn had taken off down a different road, and Denver couldn’t help feeling that somehow she’d been left behind. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Vanessa; the woman was warm and friendly. Quite lovely, in fact. So what was it?
Am I jealous? she wondered. Do I feel as if Carolyn is deserting me?
Or maybe she sensed that their friendship was slipping away, because if Carolyn became a couple with Vanessa, there might not be any room left for her. Sad but true.
She wished Bobby were at home, waiting for her.
But no, Bobby was in New York, so she’d just have to make do without him. And that was one of the problems of having a long-distance relationship: the separations were a bitch.
* * *
Once they arrived at the party, Billy soon decided that he wasn’t in the mood to mix with a bunch of stoned people he didn’t know, who were all busy brownnosing him simply because he had a hit movie. If he weren’t a movie star, they wouldn’t give a shit. He’d be just another good-looking dude searching for a break. And he knew this because of his experiences when he’d first arrived in Hollywood with no money and no foreseeable future. Countless auditions that had taken him nowhere, sleeping on friends’ floors, waitering for a living, until he finally got the big break he’d been praying for—not that he was religious, but a prayer or two in the right direction never hurt. The big break was in an Alex Woods movie, Seduction, playing opposite the incredibly famous Venus.
And so it had begun. The crazy career. The road to stardom, marriage to Venus, and all the bullshit that went along with it.
The party and the people were getting on his nerves, so after fifteen minutes of meaningless conversations, he made his way over to the steps that led down to the beach, leaving the party behind.
Max sat up with a start. Wow! She’d downed a beer, closed her eyes, and zoned out. Talk about an escape hatch!
“I’m, uh … fine, thank you,” she said stiffly, somewhat embarrassed.
He proffered his hand.
She took it, and he pulled her up.
“What’re you doing down here by yourself?” he asked.
“Same as you, probably,” she said, pushing her clouds of dark hair off her face. “Getting away from all those morons.”
Billy laughed, and took a second look at the sexy young girl with the jet-black curls and the exceptionally pretty face. She was clad in rock ’n’ roll torn jeans and a midriff-baring white shirt knotted under her breasts, with multiple silver chains and crosses hanging around her slender neck. He narrowed his eyes. “I know you,” he said, thinking she looked vaguely familiar.
“And I know you,” she responded, staring at the studly tousled-haired movie star with the piercing blue eyes and rippling torso nicely displayed in a tight black T-shirt. Of course she knew him. Everyone did.
“Saw my movie, huh?” Billy said, thinking that his fame was such a useful conversation opener. And this girl was majorly hot—in a very un-bimbo-like way. He’d left the bimbo squad cavorting naked in the pool with Willow, and he couldn’t care less about any of them.
“I didn’t, actually,” Max lied, thinking that he looked way better offscreen, because she’d seen his latest movie. Twice. But she wasn’t about to tell him that.
“Then where do we know each other from?” Billy asked, realizing that he’d smoked too much weed and downed too many vodka shots, which was another reason he’d headed to the beach to chill out.
“Um … you were married to my mom’s best friend,” Max blurted.
“Who’s your mom’s best friend?”
“Venus.”
Billy’s face registered shock. “You’re—”
“Yeah, I’m Max. Lucky’s daughter.”
“You gotta be shittin’ me,” he exclaimed.
“Now, why would I do that?” she asked innocently.
“Jeez!” he said, his mind taking off in many different directions. “Thought I recognized the house. I must’ve been here a couple of times. Where’s Lucky and Lennie?”
“Lucky’s in Vegas. Lennie’s shooting a movie,” Max said, slightly breathless because this was Billy Melina, and along with Johnny Depp and Robert Pattinson, he was one of her favorites. She’d harbored a secret crush for months, ever since seeing his latest movie.
“Don’t tell me this is your party?” Billy said, gesturing up toward the distant house where music was blaring and lights were flashing. Someone had added fireworks to the mix, so every few minutes the sky lit up and the noise was out of control.
“Unfortunately, yes,” she admitted. “It’s a total bad scene, right?”
“Let me get this straight,” Billy said, somewhat perplexed. “So even though it’s your party, you’re down on the beach because…?”
“’Cause I just told you—it’s a freaking nightmare,” she said with a helpless shrug. “I made a daring escape. Can you blame me?”
“Hmm…” he said, giving her a long quizzical look. “Do Mommy and Daddy know you’re entertaining?”
“What do you think?” she replied, gazing directly into his electric blue eyes.
“I’m taking a wild guess an’ saying they don’t.”
“And you’re so not about to tell them, are you?”
“Hey,” he said with a casual shrug. “We’re hardly on speaking terms, what with Venus bad-mouthing me big-time.”
“Oh yes,” Max said tartly. “Auntie Venus.”
“Shit!” Billy mock-groaned. “Don’t say that, you’re makin’ me feel old.”
“You are old, aren’t you?” she said boldly.
“Thirty, chicken. An’ you?”
“Eighteen,” she answered, which wasn’t such a huge lie, because there were only three more days to go.
They exchanged a long look, one that sent shivers up and down her spine.
Was this really happening?
Yes. Absolutely.
“Hey,” he said, breaking the look. “Wanna take a walk?”
She nodded. Like it was Billy Melina; there was no way she’d turn him down.
They started strolling along the sand, close to the shoreline, and after a while, Billy began to talk. The more he talked, the more she found herself really liking him. He told her about the movie he was shooting and a whole load of interesting and funny stories to do with the cast and crew. Soon she began telling him about her plans to move to New York and start a new life away from her parents, and the cool thing was that he actually listened to her, told her it sounded like a great move to make and that she should definitely do it.
Yes, he was way hotter offscreen than on. In the past she’d seen him from afar several times with Venus, and she vaguely remembered watching him laughing and joking with Lucky and Lennie at the opening of The Keys. He’d never taken any notice of her before, but this time was different. This time they were two people with an awesome electric current buzzing between them.
She wondered if he could feel it too.
Suddenly she wanted nothing more than to touch him, feel his skin against hers, experience everything he had to offer.
Oh God! Could this be it? Had she finally met The One?
Billy Melina.
Soon-to-be ex of her mom’s best friend.
Red-hot movie star.
What better way to lose her virginity?
* * *
Sometimes Frankie got into fights. He had his enemies. A club promoter he’d butted heads with in the past was coming on to Willow and her naked nymphs in the pool, calling them names and generally being obnoxious.
Sitting in a lounge chair with a giggly and very stoned Cookie, Frankie felt perfectly content until Cookie hissed in his ear, “Do something!”
So he did, and almost got coldcocked for his trouble.
“Goddammit!” he exclaimed, nursing his jaw. When had he become the protector of dykes? “That prick could’ve knocked my fuckin’ teeth out.”
“Well, he didn’t,” said an unconcerned Cookie as “that prick” was escorted off the premises by two macho gay guys who worshiped Willow Price and would do anything for her.
“Where were they when I needed them?” Frankie grumbled.
“Never mind,” Cookie cooed, getting up and leading him into the house. “Let’s go do some more blow. You know that’ll make you feel way better.”
It was almost four A.M. and the party was starting to wind down. There were only a few stragglers left in the living room. Harry was around, helping the deejay pack up.
Cookie had no clue where Max was, and she didn’t care. It was time for Frankie to give it up, and not only the cocaine.
Cookie was one very happy camper.
* * *
“Maybe we should get back up to the house?” Billy suggested after a while.
“Sure,” Max said, totally aware that something powerful was going on between them, an unstoppable attraction.
“Or…” He moved toward her, placing his hands on her shoulders. “We could stay here.”
Yes, he senses it too! Oh crap!
She leaned a touch closer to him. “Maybe we should stay here,” she managed.
“Maybe you’re right,” he countered.
Then, before she could think of anything else to say, his lips descended on hers, insistent and strong.
She kissed him back, shudders of excitement racing through her body, an excitement so intense that she couldn’t wait to rip her clothes off, or have him do it for her.
After a few moments he began unknotting her shirt, pulling it off her, then touching her
breasts with his fingertips, pushing them together before bending his head to suck ever so slowly on each nipple.
“Billy,” she murmured, rubbing her hand between his legs, stroking him the way Ace liked her to do—although he wasn’t Ace, with whom she’d only gone so far. He was Billy Melina, movie star, friend of her parents, soon-to-be ex-husband of Venus.
She didn’t care. She didn’t care about anything except having him close to her.
Hurriedly, he ripped off his T-shirt and threw it down on the sand, then somehow he maneuvered her on top of it and he lay on top of her. Within minutes they were both naked and enthralled with each other.
Billy was vaguely aware that he shouldn’t be making this move with Lucky’s daughter. If Venus ever found out, she’d go nuts. But jeez, he hadn’t felt this way since the first time he’d had sex with his high school girlfriend. There was something very special about Max. She wasn’t just another casual pickup.
Oh yeah, on one hand he knew being with her would cause nothing but trouble.
On the other hand, he didn’t give a flying fuck.
Max felt the same way as she gave in to the feelings that were completely overpowering her. This was it. This was the man she’d been saving herself for, and as far as she was concerned, nothing was going to stop the inevitable, and to hell with the consequences.
He began to make love to her, slowly, surely, taking it easy.
She closed her eyes and fell into his rhythm.
He smells so good, she thought. Like a strong, fragrant soap mixed with his masculine body smell.
She smells like sweet sin, he thought. And it’s a smell that turns me on to the highest degree.
He has a body to die for.
She has the kind of body I dream about.
Smooth skin.
Taut surfaces.
Erect nipples.
Hers—deep rose.
His—black like the night.
I think I’m in love.
I think I’m in lust.
First time.
Tactile touches.
A rush of pure sweat.
Double Lucky Page 53
