Thank God. Her legs and arms shook involuntarily, and her stomach was gurgling and cramping, crying out for sustenance. Probably not the kind Brad, the vegan, would recommend, but a mile-high plate of gooey chicken nachos would so hit the spot right now.
“A shower sounds heavenly,” she said, as sweat trickled down her back and across her forehead.
He smiled, but she noticed he’d shifted his eyes to the mirror. She followed his gaze and realized he was looking at the redhead again. He quickly turned away from the mirror and said, “I hope you had fun here today, and might consider a membership. I’d be happy to offer a few free training sessions if you’re interested.”
“Thanks, I’ll let you know.”
A few seconds passed, then he said, “Um, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Because he seemed uncomfortable under the watchful gaze of the redhead, she cut him a break. She wasn’t about to give him the quick kiss on the cheek expected by Jonas, not when Brad appeared to have his heart set elsewhere. She didn’t want Brad. She didn’t want Trent. The only man she wanted, would ever want, was Colt. She’d found love over six months ago, had been given another chance thanks to the show, and she wanted Brad just as happy. He was obviously smitten with the redhead, and knowing she wasn’t going to pick him tomorrow, she wasn’t about to mess his love life up—not even for ratings.
“Yep, one more time on camera,” she said with a smile, and conscious of the cameras and the redhead, offered her hand.
He drew in a deep breath, and gave her an appreciative smile. “I’ve had fun, Val,” he said, then gave her biceps a squeeze. “A little more work and you’ll have arms women will envy.”
“We’ll see,” she said, and headed for the locker room. Before she even had a chance to open her locker, the redhead appeared.
“He’s mine,” she said, and moved closer. “I don’t care about the show, and neither does he.”
“Then why’d he do it?” Valentina countered, curious, or maybe stupid considering the woman was ripped and could probably kick her butt.
The redhead sagged against the locker. “I...he...” She threw a chiseled arm in the air. “If I was dating someone, he wasn’t, then when I wasn’t, he was. Oh just forget it.” She pushed off the locker.
Valentina gripped her arm. Damn, she wanted arms like hers. Toned, no bye-bye flap if she waved them in the air. “No, tell me, but tell me your name first.”
“Larissa, and I know all about you, V al,” she said with a sneer.
“What exactly do you know about me?”
“You want my Bradley.”
“No offense, but I don’t.”
Larissa widened her eyes. “You don’t? Why the hell not? He’s everything that’s good and—”
Valentina held up a hand. “Stop. I meant no offense. Brad’s a great guy, but I fell for one of the other bachelors.”
“You did?” The hopeful look in her eyes made Valentina smile.
“Yeah, I did.”
“So you’re not picking him?”
“Nope. After the season finale tomorrow, he’s all yours.”
Larissa banged her head against the locker. “Thank God. Just when we both weren’t dating someone and started getting close, he found out he was casted for the show. It’s been utter hell knowing he was dating someone, knowing that we couldn’t be together.”
“Well, now you don’t have to worry about anything but the two of you.”
Back in the limo, freshly showered and muscles already screaming in pain, Valentina rested her head against the leather upholstery, her mind swirling. She’d learned what she’d already known about Colt—he wasn’t the imposter. She’d been surprised Trent was a legit dentist, and that Brad was not only the personal trainer he’d said he was, but likely in love with another woman.
Maybe Derek had decided to go without the imposter bit this season. Sighing she stretched her legs, then immediately jumped as a cramp lodged in her hamstrings. Rubbing the back of her thigh, wishing Colt were here doing it for her, she decided worrying about red herrings and imposters really didn’t matter at this point. She was going to choose Colt tomorrow during the season finale, then during their trip, confess everything—her love and her lies. She just prayed she’d end up with her happily ever after.
Chapter 10
Colt eased off the bed, already regretting the loss of Valentina’s smooth, silky curves. She’d made him so damned greedy and hungry. For her touch, her soft sighs when he caressed her, her screams when he made her come, her laughter, the scent of her...everything.
He stared at her as she slept, curled on her side, her arms tucked under the pillow, her dark hair a tangled mass. She looked so peaceful, so beautiful and serene, and nothing like the sexy hellcat that had stripped him naked and had done nothing but blow his mind last night.
He pressed on his throbbing arousal, wondering if he had enough time to wake her up with something more than a stiff cup of coffee. The bright green numbers on the digital clock reminded him that he should have been on the road ten minutes ago. He had a ton to do today, and with regret, he dressed, then leaned over the bed and gave Valentina a gentle kiss on her forehead. She stirred and lightly grabbed his arm.
“Do you have to go?” she asked, her voice thick, sleepy and sexy as hell.
“Yeah, but I’ll call you later.”
She ran her hand over his chest, then lower until she reached his groin. Rubbing his erection through his jeans, she released a low groan. “Are you sure you have to go right this second.”
He looked at the clock again and released his own groan. Before he could walk away, though, he needed one quick taste. She gasped when he pinned her arms and took a nipple in his mouth. Languidly, she stretched and arched her back, a sexy smile playing on her lush lips. After licking and nipping one nipple, he moved to the other, then abruptly stood. “I really have to go.”
Crouching on all fours, and belying the sleepy siren she’d been only seconds ago, she taunted him with the sexy sway of her breasts and the split of her sex. “You’re no fun.”
He ran his hand down her spine and squeezed her hot little ass. “Trust me. After the show ends tomorrow, I’m going to give you a whole new meaning of the word fun.” He leaned down for a quick kiss, but she surprised him by twining her arms around his neck and running her hands through his hair. Damn, he didn’t want to go. She had him hot and hard and ready to strip off his jeans and bury his cock between her thighs. He pulled away instead, and circled the bed, keeping his distance, knowing he’d be a goner if she so much as touched him again. With a quick grin, he left, wishing he didn’t have to and at the same time wishing he’d said something more.
The words “I love you” had been on the tip of his tongue for weeks, yet he’d never had the nerve to say them. At the beginning, she’d been emotionally reserved, controlled. The way she’d blatantly offered to have sex with him during the time she’d spent in Dallas had bothered him. The way she tried to control every aspect of their relationship had made him want to crack her armor and the self-control she’d seemed to covet. She’d changed, though. Maybe he owed a bit of that change to that prick, Jonas. The director had been so hell bent on earning his ratings that in the process, he’d brought Valentina closer to Colt.
He loved that she now relied on him, asked him for advice, talked openly about her past, her family and her dreams. As he drove the eighty miles back to his ranch, thinking about Valentina and everything that had happened over the past four weeks, he realized how much they’d both changed. The thought of love and marriage had never scared him. He just hadn’t thought he’d been ready for all of that commitment. Now he wanted it more than anything in his life. Valentina in his arms, at his side, everyday, ‘til death us do part. Yeah, he was in that deep.
Whether her feelings were as strong, he couldn’t be sure. He knew she liked being with him. They’d become close and comfortable. Like a couple who’d been together for years, he’d grown acc
ustomed to her moods, knew when to talk and when to listen. He’d enjoying living with her, sitting in front of the TV some nights, playing cards to pass the time on others, and of course making love to her anytime, anywhere in her small apartment.
As he pulled into his driveway, he stared at the dozen new horses he’d rescued. Because of his commitment to the show, or rather his need to be in Dallas with Valentina, he hadn’t had much of a chance to work with the horses. Ruger had hired a few trainers for him to take care of things while he’d been detained, but Colt wished he’d been the one able to do the training. The horses were his second love, Valentina now moving into first position.
Colt spent the day working with the trainers and the horses. The trainers, who were a couple of men he’d known for years, were staying at the small guest house flanking his property until Colt returned from his trip with Valentina. Although both Ruger and Barrette had said they’d stop by his ranch now and then to check on things, Colt liked the idea of the two men sticking around and making sure both his house and horses were safe.
After spending time with them, he caught up on some bills, then packed a suitcase for the upcoming trip to Jamaica. As the day turned to night, he grew restless. He spoke with Valentina for a bit, then afterward, with nothing else to do, he paced the house. When that grew old, he tried to watch some TV, but only ended up pacing some more. For the first time, he had a sense of emptiness, loneliness. Which was plain stupid. Unless Valentina had a date or some promo thing to do for the show, he’d been with her constantly. A thought slammed home and had him releasing a rueful chuckle. He’d become so used to coming home to Valentina, he’d suddenly realized what his own house was missing. Her.
He wanted her with him, living here at his ranch. She hadn’t mentioned anything more about the teaching job she had in LA, and he hadn’t pushed about the opportunity right here in Sunny Springs. The subject, along with talk of the future had become taboo. Not anymore. Once they were in Jamaica, he planned to lay it all on the line. Tell her he loved her, and ask her to stay. He only hoped she’d say yes. Otherwise, he’d...what?
Not ready to go there, and tired of his own company, he slammed his hat on his head and decided to head over to his brothers’ ranch for a few beers.
When he pulled into Ruger and Barrette’s driveway, his headlights flashed on Win’s truck. Unusual considering Win was a bonafide workaholic and, except for the holidays and occasional parties, he never made impromptu visits. Colt never understood why, when they’d all been so close at one time, but would never ask Win. The man guarded his privacy.
Not bothering to knock, Colt strolled into his brothers’ house, then frowned when loud feminine groaning and the distinctive sound of a man’s guttural grunt came from the family room. What the hell were his brothers up to?
Tossing his hat on the kitchen table, Colt moved toward the living room, then burst out laughing.
Ruger looked away from the TV which displayed a close-up of a couple of busty blondes busy licking and sucking some guy’s dick. “Well, look what the cat dragged in.”
Colt smiled. “You don’t own a cat.”
“Nope, but Ruger has pussy on the brain,” Barrette said, and elbowed Win who cracked a smile. “Grab yourself a beer. We’re checking out some old porn videos.”
“Kinda weird, don’t you think.” Colt kicked a box full of outdated VHS tapes. “Guys sitting around watching porn with no flesh and blood woman around to join the fun.” As if to punctuate what he’d said, the women on the screen released simultaneous moans. “Really, what the hell is all this?” He nodded to the box.
“I brought them an early Christmas present,” Win said, his voice laced with censured amusement. “A snitch I know owns a porn shop and was getting rid of all his old VHS tapes now that everything is coming out on DVD. I figured these two could use some porn considering neither of them is getting laid.”
Barrette laughed. “Look who’s talking. I hope you kept a few tapes for yourself, Win. You’re wound so damn tight, I keep wondering when you’re gonna snap in two.”
Win knocked Barrette with his boot heel as he stood. “Sorry I couldn’t help you with that director, Colt. The guy sounds like a real sleaze, and it makes me wonder what he’s done to other women on the show.”
“Me too. You have no idea how much I want to beat the shit out of him. If he hurts Valentina...” He lost all train of thought as he stared at the TV screen. “What the hell?”
Colt moved closer to the TV, pushing Ruger aside. He snagged the remote from Ruger’s hand and hit pause. “Holy shit. Where’s the case for this video?” he asked without taking his eyes off the screen, actually the close up of the naked man who’d been having two women service him.
Ruger handed it to him. “Trimming Bush,” Colt read the title to his brothers, then he flipped the case over and continued to read the jacket out loud. “Bored, sexy housewives hire a gardener to do their landscaping, but the only bush they want him to work on is theirs. Starring Chest Rockwell as The Gardener.”
All three of his brother groaned. Then Barrette said, “I heard some of the porn stars come up with their screen name by using their first pet as their first name and the street they grew up on as their last name.”
“We had two dogs,” Ruger reminded Barrette. “So I guess we’d all go by either Smith Route Three or Wesson Route Three...there’s some names that’ll make you famous in the world of porn.”
Colt held up his hand as he raised the case to the light to better see the small still shots of the people in the video. “Wait, this can’t be.” He looked at the still shot on the screen, then back at the case in his hand. “Win, you’re not going to believe this, but your snitch just produced what I needed to take that prick head director down a few notches.”
Win frowned as he stepped closer. “What are you talking about?”
According to the jacket, this film was made in nineteen eighty-five. Colt looked at the TV screen again. The still shot of the “gardener,” preparing to plow bush, had a thick, curly mullet, an unfortunate eighty’s trend, but shave the “gardener’s” hair, add a few wrinkles, and he had Jonas in the flesh. Way too much naked flesh for his liking.
Colt ejected the tape and stowed it in his case. “You guys have anymore videos featuring Chest Rockwell?”
“How the hell should we know?” Ruger moved to the box filled with porn. “Barrette just popped the first one off the top into dad’s old VHS player.”
Win grabbed his arm. “Seriously, Colt, what’s this about?”
Colt couldn’t help flashing him a triumphant smile. “Chest Rockwell is Jonas Michaels.”
“You’re telling me the director used to be a porn star.”
All three of his brothers stared at him, mouths gaping open.
“It appears so. How much you want to bet he didn’t put that on his resume?”
“Wait,” Barrette said. “Isn’t the season finale tomorrow? How can you be sure he still won’t use that security tape of you and Valentina?”
Colt shot Ruger a look.
“I swear I didn’t tell him,” Ruger said with a shrug.
“Sorry, man.” Win placed a hand on Colt’s shoulder. “I thought Barrette knew.”
“No big deal. Just help me see if we have anymore Chest Rockwell videos in this box. I’m planning on nailing this guy to the wall with this.”
Thirty minutes later, with nine videos featuring Chest Rockwell, aka, Jonas Michaels, in his possession, Colt drove back to his ranch. While he wanted to call Valentina and give her the good news regarding their counter attack against Jonas, the hour had grown late and he wanted to reach Jonas first. Once back at his ranch, he called Danny’s cell.
“Danny, it’s Colt, I need Jonas’ cell phone number.”
“Sorry, buddy, I can’t give you his—”
“You can and you will. Otherwise I’m a no-show tomorrow.” Colt winced. He’d be there regardless, because nothing could stop him from spending anot
her week with Valentina. Considering they were now into August, she’d have to be in LA to prepare for her new teaching job only a week or so after they returned from their trip. If she decided to still go to LA.
He hoped he could change her mind. The thought of losing her to some low paying teaching job pissed him off, but he retrained his focus on ruining Jonas instead. After the hell Jonas had put Valentina through, Colt almost wanted to toss the videos he’d taken from his brothers onto the producer’s lap, but making sure Jonas knew he had an edge over him satisfied Colt even more. Jonas had threatened his woman, tried to coerce her into doing things no woman, other than maybe a porn star being paid to do a job, should do on camera. While he still wanted to beat the shit out of him, the tapes he held in a brown paper bag would have to do. As an attorney, he sure as hell didn’t need an assault charge on his record.
Danny gave into his idle threat and recited Jonas’ cell phone number. Colt quickly called Jonas, who answered on the third ring. “Who is this?”
“It’s Colt Walker.”
“Colt, what’s this about? Don’t you dare tell me you’re cancelling tomorrow because if you are, your contract becomes—”
“Shut up, Jonas.”
“Sh-shut up,” Jonas sputtered. “Do you know who the hell you’re talking to?”
“Yeah, I do. Chest Rockwell.”
There was a moment of silence before Jonas snorted like the pig he was and said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, I think you do. I’ve come into possession of a few old video tapes. I have to say, I kinda liked the fro-slash-mullet look over the shaved head deal you’ve got going on, but I digress. Let’s see here,” he said, flipping through the videos. “We have Trimming Bush, Long Hot Swallow, Pokerhaunches, and my personal favorite, A Tale of Two Clitties. That one had to have landed you as director of Pick Me. Derek Delmont must have seen a few clips from this video and hired you on the spot, right?”
Pick Me (Reality TV Romance) Page 14
