Hotshot

by Jo Leigh

  “It seems we’re late for a commercial, but I don’t want to break right now. Cujo? Can we make this happen?”

  Cujo turned to Fred. There was a very brief, very heated discussion, then Cujo pressed his mike button. He said to her and her audience, “It’s your show, Jamie. Go for it.”

  “Wonderful.” She turned to Chase. “You were saying?”

  “I was saying that the act of masturbating is pretty much the same for all men. What varies is the fantasy. And I’ve got a rich imagination. Last night, for example, in my mind, you were standing in front of me without a stitch on. And while you may be small, you still have curves in all the right places.” He grinned. “I liked your haircut.”

  She touched the back of her head.

  “Not that one.” He winked at her. “That Brazilian look. Just that small strip of hair…”

  He scored with that one. She hadn’t seen it coming and she hadn’t prepared her defense. What shocked her, what made it hard to come up with any words at all, was that he was right. She had gotten a Brazilian wax. It had hurt like hell, too.

  “Were you peeking when you should have been cooking?” she finally managed to say.

  The cocky smile was back. “No. But I knew, nonetheless. Just like I know that when you make love to yourself, you take your time. You like the feel of your own flesh. You don’t like to admit it, Jamie, but your sensuality can’t be hidden. Not by long, baggy dresses, or your degree. You need sex, baby.” He leaned closer to her. “You need it or you’ll wither and die.”

  The flutter in her chest stole her voice for a moment. Why did he have such an effect on her? They were just words. “No one, to my knowledge, has ever died from lack of sex.”

  “Maybe not physically, but emotionally, spiritually.”

  “So it’s a spiritual experience for you?”

  “Oh, yeah. If it’s with the right woman.”

  “We’re getting sidetracked here. This is Dr. Jamie, and Chase Newman is here in the studio talking to us about how he masturbates.”

  Chase’s right eye twitched. He turned to look past her, but she kept her eyes on him, forcing him to meet her gaze. He couldn’t possibly be as cool as he’d like her to think.

  “In Los Angeles, a colleague of mine, Dr. Susie, does her show from her bedroom. She invites guests to come on down, and everyone participates. Her guests get naked, and sometimes they get together right there, on the air.”

  “Are you suggesting we do that?”

  “I was thinking that if you’d like, it would be fine if you wanted to get more comfortable. Maybe take those jeans off. Use all your senses as you explain the process. I’m sure my listeners would love it.”

  “I’ll pass.”

  “They won’t be able to see you, Chase. It is radio.”

  “How about the crew in there?” He nodded to the production booth.

  “We can send everyone away except for Cujo and Marcy. Surely that wouldn’t bother you.”

  “Hey, I’m game if you are.”

  “Oh, no. The host doesn’t get naked.”

  “Why not? Is there something wrong with you? Or are you just embarrassed?”

  “I’m perfectly comfortable with my body, thank you. But this show is about you tonight. You and you alone.”

  “Uh-uh. No go. But nice try.”

  She thought about taking one more dig, but perhaps she’d done enough. “Hmm. Okay. Sorry, ladies. Maybe next time.”

  He moved closer. “The next time I take off my pants, it’s going to be for you, Doc. All for you.”

  “Isn’t that nice.”

  He laughed. “Can I go on with my fantasy? Or are you just going to keep interrupting?”

  “It’s all yours.”

  “No. But it will be. And when you do give yourself to me, I’m going to teach you a thing or two. I know you have your degree and you’ve gotten straight As but, honey, there are some things you can’t learn from books.”

  “Such as?”

  “Such as what it feels like to come so hard your ears ring. You know what I’d do to you? I’d put you between my lips and suck you like an ice-cream soda.”

  Jamie opened her mouth but nothing came out.

  “I’d tie you up so you couldn’t move a muscle, and I’d put a blindfold on you, and then I’d play like a kid with a new toy. Nothing you could do but moan and come. And, honey, you would come.”

  His eyes let her know this wasn’t hypothetical, and it wasn’t for the audience. He meant to do those things to her, and her body seemed to be enthusiastic about the idea. She wondered if Howard Stern or Dr. Susie had ever made love to a guest on the air. Maybe she could be the first.

  “Jamie?”

  From far away, she heard Marcy’s voice. Turning slowly toward the window, Jamie saw Marcy point to her computer. It was a caller. A thirty-three-year-old from Soho. Somehow, Jamie managed to punch the right button. “Hi, Alicia. You have something to say?”

  “I just wanted Chase to know that if you don’t want him, I do.”

  “Thanks, sweetheart,” Chase said, really pouring on the charm, “but Jamie does want me. She wants me more than she dares admit. And soon, very soon, she’s going to ask me to make love to her.”

  “I can’t believe she hasn’t already,” Alicia said. “I mean, come on. Who cares about a bet when she could be rolling in the sheets with you?”

  “Why don’t you ask her?”

  “Okay. Dr. Jamie? Care to comment?”

  Jamie stared at her console for a moment as she gathered her wits. She cleared her throat. Then, in what she believed was a very natural tone of voice, she said, “Alicia, I’m glad you asked, because this wager isn’t about who gets whom into bed first. It’s about women and men, and the right to choose. To own up to our role in the mating dance, and to be cognizant that no one can trick us into doing anything we don’t want to do.”

  “Dr. Jamie?”

  “Yes, Alicia?”

  “That’s such a crock. So what if he seduces you? It’s not a crime unless you say no. I don’t get the problem.”

  “And that’s why I can’t afford to lose this bet. You see, Alicia, the struggle between men and women has been going on for hundreds of years. Since the time when we were nothing but property. We may not be owned by men in the strict sense any longer, but we’re still under their thumbs. I talk to young women, women who should be having the time of their lives dating and playing the field, and you know what I hear over and over again?”

  “What?”

  “The young women are being seduced, but not by a man. By an idea. By the illusion that sex is love. It’s not, and there isn’t a man alive who doesn’t know it. That fantasy is in the feminine domain, and I can’t tell you how many women have gone down in flames over it. Shall we talk about teenage pregnancy? Where do you think that starts? With the idea that we’re helpless. That if he’s trying to get me into bed, he must love me. And if I say yes, I’m saying I love him right back. Only, in the morning, there is no bond, no tie, no love. Just a guy and a girl with completely different agendas.”

  “So, okay,” her caller said, “I get that it can be that way, but isn’t it possible that it can be magic, too?”

  “Magic?”

  “Yeah. Like in the fairy tales. Where it doesn’t matter if she was seduced or not because they’re meant to be together. They belong together.”

  Jamie didn’t answer right away. “I suppose it could happen like that. It wouldn’t be likely, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think there might be a chance for magic.”

  “Great. So, um, how do you know?”

  Jamie looked at Chase. “To tell you the truth, Alicia. I don’t have a clue.”

  9

  CHASE SAW THE CONFUSION on Jamie’s face. It lasted a brief second, but it gave him his answer. Dr. Jamie was full of it. He’d suspected before; now he was sure. She talked a good game, but there was a fundamental flaw in her logic. Women weren’t like men. They had n
ot only different plumbing, but different wiring. And women, whether they liked it or not, were wired for committed relationships.

  It made sense biologically. They needed to count on someone for food and lodging while they tended babies. Survival of the species.

  While he did agree that some women could have sex for the hell of it, for the fun, with no strings and no expectations, such women were few and far between, and Jamie was not one of them.

  It was a shame, because he’d thought a lot about how this little game was going to end. When he’d said yes, he’d wanted to show the good doctor a thing or two about sex and seduction and everything in between. But now that he was doing just that, the victory was bittersweet.

  In the past two days, despite his best intentions, he’d come to like Jamie. Last night had clinched that. She’d be dangerous if she realized her own power. With that quick mind and that sinful body, she could make any man jump through hoops. That’s what women in general didn’t understand—Jamie, in particular.

  Men wanted sex for the release, sure, but being inside a woman was the safest place on earth. No amount of money, power or glory could give a man that sense of security. Hell, men made money and became powerful just so they could get the women.

  “Chase?”

  He realized Jamie had been trying to get his attention. He’d been so lost in thought that he’d missed the commercials and her station ID. They were on the air. “Yeah?”

  “Carly asked an interesting question.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear it. I was distracted.”

  “That’s all right. Carly, would you like to ask your question again?”

  “Sure,” came the sultry, low voice from the speaker. “I think women can have sex without love, but they don’t want to. I think love is the whole purpose. I wondered what you thought about that?”

  “Hmm.” He had to be careful about this. The game was still afoot, and even though the outcome was more uncertain than ever, he didn’t want to say anything that would mess things up. “I think love means different things to different people. If you’re talking about security, then I agree.”

  “Love isn’t security,” the caller said, then chuckled softly. “Or, at least, it’s a really small part of it.”

  “Fair enough.” Chase leaned forward, closer to the mike. “So what is love?”

  “I have no idea,” Carly answered. “I’ve never been in love. Not really. I’ve been in like, and sometimes in lust, but never in love.”

  “How do you know?”

  There was a pause. Jamie looked at him questioningly. “I think that’s a very important question,” she said.

  “Here’s what I think,” Carly said. “I think that love is a spiritual, physical and emotional experience, like a three-legged stool. You take one of those aspects away, and the whole thing tips on its side. The secret is to find the balance.”

  Jamie closed her eyes for a few seconds. Then she smiled. “Carly, are you trying to take my job?”

  “No. At least, not right now. I’m just trying to do this life thing well.”

  “From where I sit, you’re doing one hell of a good job. I thank you for sharing with us.”

  “May I ask Chase one more thing?”

  He nodded. “Shoot.”

  “What is it you know about women that makes you so good at seducing them?”

  He opened his mouth to say something clever, but thought better of it. This woman was bright and thoughtful and she deserved an answer. So did Jamie.

  “Every woman is unique. They don’t get much credit for that. Every woman has a story that’s hers alone, but I don’t think many people listen to it. Women want to be heard. They want someone to pay attention to them, and I’m not just talking about sexually.”

  Jamie leaned in, but he put his hand up. He wasn’t finished. “I also believe women want to be seduced. They want to pretend they don’t have the responsibility. That the choice was taken from them.” He looked at Jamie, not surprised to find her expression hardening.

  “The thing is, women are responsible for so damn much. They have to take care of the house, of the kids, of the cats, of the groceries, the dry cleaning, the car pools—the list goes on and on. This starts young—real young, from what I can see. Men are out there learning to compete, and women are taking up the slack. They always have. When it comes to love, and even just sex, I think women don’t want to have to be the responsible party. For once, they want someone else to do it for them. To make it easy. To take the blame if things get messed up.”

  “And, believe it or not, I agree with you,” said Jamie. “Women don’t want the responsibility, so they give it away. Only, it’s not that easy. They still get stuck with the consequences of their actions, whether they pretend to choose or not.”

  “Everybody gets stuck with the consequences, Jamie. That’s life.”

  “So why should women bury their heads in the sand over this one issue?”

  “I don’t think you give your women friends enough credit. I think they all know what the real story is. They know. But sometimes even the toughest broad needs to be swept away.”

  “But—”

  “You need to be swept away, darlin’. You need it badly.”

  She opened her mouth but didn’t speak, and then Carly spoke up. “Chase?”

  “Yes?”

  “Fascinating answer. Thank you. Now, can you tell me why you don’t have someone in your life? If you know women so well, why aren’t you married? Or at least in love?”

  “Okay, this is where I stop. I’ll tell you all about how I spank the monkey, but I won’t tell you about why I’m not married. It’s too personal.”

  Carly laughed. “Fair enough. Thanks, Dr. Jamie and Chase. This was great.”

  “Thank you, Carly,” Jamie said, then nodded at Cujo as she launched into her station ID segment.

  While she was still talking, Chase excused himself and went down the hall to the employee lounge. There, he stared at the vending machines until his vision blurred. He wasn’t thinking about cocoa or candy bars. His thoughts were with Jamie, and the simple question Carly had asked.

  Like her, he’d never been in love, just lust. Or like. But mostly lust. He wasn’t allowed the luxury of love, not because he couldn’t feel it but because he knew what would happen if he did fall. He’d want what everyone wants—a life, a future, which he couldn’t have.

  It had never really bothered him. He’d accepted his fate years ago, when he’d discovered the facts about his great-grandfather’s death. He could fight lots of things, but heredity wasn’t one of them.

  So why did he feel uneasy? Because the questioning on the air had come too close to the bone? A long time ago, he’d told a woman friend about his history, and his future, whatever there was going to be of it. She’d laughed and told him he was ridiculous. He’d never brought it up again. People didn’t understand. They didn’t know about the Newman men.

  It wasn’t a great tragedy. At least he knew his life wasn’t going to go on forever, and he lived accordingly. So what if he’d never know what it was like to love a woman, to have her love him back. It didn’t make any difference. Not really.

  But as he got out his wallet, retrieved a dollar bill and fed it to the soda machine, a dark, solid fist of regret settled in his gut.

  JAMIE ALMOST TOLD CHASE to leave after the show. She was tired in a way that had little to do with sleep. The broadcast had been thoughtful—thanks to Carly and a few others—which should have pleased her. Instead, it just made her more insecure.

  Just days ago, she’d been happy. Her show was doing well—her parents thought she was wasting her time and talent, but she believed she was helping people—and she’d made peace with her loneliness.

  Now, as she stood in the bathroom of WXNT staring at herself in the mirror, her show was a publicity farce, and the one secret that could destroy everything was threatening in a very real way. Her mother had called this afternoon to ask her if s
he wanted to talk. Her mother never wanted to talk unless it was to share observations about what Jamie was doing wrong. Of course, the publicity had mortified her parents. They had only been enthusiastic about her radio career after she’d convinced them that her services were of real value. She wasn’t sure of that now. Was she helping people? Was it right to tell women they had to take responsibility for every aspect of their lives? What if Chase was right?

  The door swung open and Marcy walked in. “I’ve been looking for you. Chase has a car downstairs.”

  “I know. I don’t think I’m going to go with him.”

  “How come?” Marcy watched Jamie’s reflection as she washed her hands.

  “I’m tired. I want to spend some time alone. No one said I had to be with him every day.”

  “You’re right, although you’re going to have to explain yourself to your listeners. Are you prepared to do that?”

  “They’ll understand.”

  Marcy grabbed a few paper towels and dried her hands. “Are you sure? They’re having fun with this, Jamie. They want you to play.”

  “They can’t want me to play that badly. Surely they’ll forgive me for one night.”

  “You’re so young,” Marcy said, patting her on the shoulder. “You still think well of the masses. That’s sweet.”

  “Cut it out, Marcy. I’m serious.”

  Marcy’s smile faded. “What’s wrong?”

  Jamie leaned against the counter and debated her next words. “I’m confused. It’s no big deal.”

  “Confused about what? Chase?”

  She nodded. “And how I feel about him.”

  “Go on.”

  What the hell. “I have no intention of letting myself be seduced. I don’t believe in it, and that’s no line—I truly don’t.”

  “But?”

  “But every time I see the man, my entire body goes wiggy on me.”

  “Explain ‘wiggy.’”

  “This is so embarrassing.”