ROMANCE: MENAGE ROMANCE: Tapped and Taken by Two (Pregnancy Sports MMA UFC Fighter Romance) (Alpha Male Romance)

by Maxi MacNair

  “You need a hand?”

  What did he think she was, an invalid? He already looked like he thought she was an idiot for falling asleep out here? “I’m fine.”

  She stood up, but her right foot had fallen asleep, and pins and needles shot through her. She stumbled and he caught her, the back of his hand brushing the exposed side of her breast.

  Nothing? The guy was a rock on the outside, but in Lucas’ mind he was working overtime praying that the thin fabric of his boxers would be enough to mask the surge of excitement he just felt.

  Whatever, Bristol thought to herself. She had her own problems. Didn’t need to get flirty with her ex-marine bodyguard.

  “Thanks for waking me.”

  “Ricky still here?”

  “Yeah. I’m going to one of the guest rooms.”

  “Is everything alright in there for you?”

  “All right?”

  “Are you good to go in there?”

  “He’s not going to hurt me Lucas, at least not anymore than he already has, and there’s no feelings left in me now for him to hurt.” Lucas had the right to ask though. Ricky had to be pretty drunk and pretty pissed to hit her, and it had only happened once, but it did happen. Ricky was just lucky Lucas wasn’t around then. Bristol was pretty sure that would’ve been the last thing he ever did. It didn’t matter that much though to Bristol, a bruise was probably the least damaging thing he had done to her over the course of their relationship. She had all the power now that all her feelings for Ricky had been used up or burnt away.

  “He’s probably passed back out.” She mouthed the words dryly. “I won’t see him until we have lawyers next to us if I’m lucky. Tomorrow if I’m not.”

  * * *

  The next day she tried to focus on work. Exercise, songwriting, rehearsing in her home studio. Had to get ready for the tour. The idea of being totally away from Ricky for eight weeks felt like a godsend. In the beginning he’d come with her. Then he’d just fly to meet her in a few cities. For the past few years, starting sometime when her fame started to dip, he stayed home with his other women.

  She needed to divorce him. Actually catching him in bed was the final straw. Now she had more than just a reason to end the marriage she had the proof to back it up. But how would that look for wholesome Bristol Maitland? Her face would be all over the tabloids. Bristol couldn’t worry about that now though. The only thing she could do was contain this drama until her manager and his team worked out a way to release the information to the media. Bristol knew she was going to go through this divorce in the public eye, but she was determined to do so with as much control as possible.

  She knew Ricky was in the house, but at least she knew that if she stuck to the workout rooms, the recording studio, and the rehearsal space she built in the house, she was probably not going to come across him. As dusk was falling, she came in from the gym dripping with sweat. She needed to grab a bite to eat before she hit the pool having run out of the snacks stocked in the recording studio early in the afternoon.

  Ricky met her there, looking like shit with dark circles under his eyes. He wasn’t very tall, and they stood very nearly at eye level. When she wore heels, she was taller than him, which was why she only wore flats on the red carpet when he was with her. “I want a divorce.”

  She gaped at him. “You want to divorce me? I thought it was the other way around. How will you feed yourself?”

  “I fell in love.”

  “With the bimbo who was here last night?”

  “Her name is Samantha.”

  “Well at least you still know her name this morning so I guess it must be love.

  “I put in the request with my lawyer yesterday.”

  “You’ll get nothing. There’s no prenup.”

  “My lawyer doesn’t seem to think so. It’s Samantha’s cousin, and it seems that what you saw last night can’t really be used since I had already put the request for divorce in motion.”

  “That’s bullshit. Are you really telling me that after leeching off me for all these years you’re going to try and prove you deserve to take my money with you when you leave.”

  “I’m telling you that I want a divorce. Whatever you think I’m doing or what you think you can prove doesn’t much matter.” Ricky said it with such a smug and devious look on his face, she wished she gave Lucas the go ahead to kick his ass the night before.

  “Whatever Ricky, my lawyer can handle this. You want to go? There’s the door.”

  When they got married she’d been a nobody, singing at county fairs. No money and no need for a prenup. However, when things started to get really bad she did have a talk with her lawyer. Most of her money was safely locked away where Ricky couldn’t get at it if he left. At least she hoped that was the case still.

  “That’s it?” Ricky seemed surprised she didn’t seem more worried or was backing down or something.

  “What do you want? I caught you in our bed with another woman. With Samantha. At least I assume that one was Samantha?”

  “Okay then. I’m out of here. Tonight.” Ricky hesitated a bit though. It was obvious this was some sort of ploy. Even if he did have lawyer and the divorce proceedings already started it seemed like he was really hoping to scare her or blackmail her into keeping him around.

  “Okay.” She couldn’t bring herself to cry. Couldn’t will herself upset. Focus on the tour. Focus on the songs she could write. She’d have lots of tabloid press, but maybe she could turn it around by writing about getting her heart ripped out.

  Which was a lie, of course. Her heart went dead and black years ago.

  “You…Your not going to fight for me?” he said.

  “I would have maybe once. Not now. Enjoy Samantha. There is nothing here for me to fight for.”

  Her appetite gone, she went upstairs to change into her bathing suit.

  When she came down, the house felt empty and Ricky’s Ferrari was gone, the garage door hanging open like a gaping mouth. God, the man never could shut the thing. She pushed the button and let it close, then noticed he’d left the front gate open, too. He really was a child she had to pick up after sometimes. Bristol wondered if that wasn’t why she had been with him for as long as she had. It wasn’t a relationship between a man and a woman, it was a relationship between an adult and a child. A child who was old enough to drink, smoke, and practically wanted to put his dick into anything that moved.

  She was angrily stomping across the pavement to the box that held the button to shut the gate when suddenly she felt very exposed in her bikini, standing in her own driveway. She thought about calling Lucas, but she could shut her own gate. It was dark, she couldn’t imagine the press would get much of a shot of her. She hurried over in her flip flops, pushed the button, heard the lock engage, and instantly felt relief. She peeked out. Quiet night now, the sun had mostly set during her and Ricky’s heated conversation. She didn’t see any paparazzi out there. A nice change for once.

  She dove into the heated water of her pool. Her mother used to joke she was part fish. She loved swimming, had ever since she was a girl. She started out doing laps, first she’d swim to stay sexy, then swim for fun. She let herself get in the groove, easily moving the length of the larger than Olympic-sized pool and back. Her breathing became regular, and while she swam she thought of the characters, political structure, and storyline in the book she was reading. At least she had that to lose herself in when she got out of the pool.

  She thought she caught a glimpse of a person as she came up for air, but was so close to being done the lap, she kept going. Maybe Ricky reading a new low and coming back to beg forgiveness, maybe just Lucas checking in on her. When she reached the end of the pool, she paused, hanging on to the side, and lifted her goggles.

  Kyle Reed stood before her.

  Her exhausted muscles went limp and she dipped lower in the water.

  “Hi Brissy.” Months ago he’d decided he was the only man for her. At first, it was just the u
sual creepy email to her fan account or handwritten letter in her pile of fan mail. For security reasons, the people who handled all Bristol’s fan mail recorded the ones that seemed concerning or threatening. They soon started picking up on this Kyle Reed character and building a case for a restraining order when the tagged letters from his address started piling up. The restraining order was officially granted when he showed up at a record signing with a steak knife in his pocket and her name carved into his arm. Kyle Reed would be arrested if he contacted her in any way, but that didn’t stop him. Threatening letters saying things like, “no one knows you like I do. I know how to make us both bleed,” and stuff that was even creepier. He was a real psycho, but the police were having a hard time finding him, and the letters were still coming in. Now there was one almost every second day, last Bristol heard when she was updated on the situation. Stalkers were something super famous people had to deal with all the time, but this was something disturbingly more.

  Reed had crazy blue eyes that were accentuated by the glowing blues and greens of the pool at night, and long dirty blonde hair just like that day Bristol saw him at the record signing, now even more greasy and wild. He wobbled and rocked back and forth like someone off his meds.

  “Get out of here before I call security.” Bristol yelled at him while he just stared at her.

  “How?” He spoke in a flat, creepy monotone. “You’re in the pool. I don’t see a phone in the pool.”

  She glanced over at the guest house, but all Lucas’ windows were dark. Her panic button sat upstairs in her walk-in closet, in a pile with the clothes she’d been wearing earlier.

  “Anyway, someone left the gate open for me. I would have been here sooner if I could have. I’ve missed you, Penny.”

  He came towards her, and she let go of the side of the pool, swimming out into deeper water.

  “That’s a pretty bathing suit,” he said.

  She felt naked. When had she last spoken to Lucas? He said something about running some errands, he was just about to send one of his guys over, but she told him not to bother if he was only going to be gone for a little while. The house security system was better than good, but only if the gates were closed, and she really needed to be as alone as possible. How long had he said it would be? How long had it been? She’d told him she’d be fine. She thought that if something did happen at least Ricky would be there to call for help.

  Then Ricky…stupid Ricky, managing to screw everything up. She should have a dog.

  “You have to come out of the water eventually,” Reed said. He sat on one of the deck chairs. “I can wait. I love to watch you swim.”

  She tread water in the middle of the pool. He was right, of course, and how far could she get, dripping wet and running. She knew Ricky kept a handgun somewhere, but she didn’t know where.

  “I still love you,” he said. “I’m so excited for your new tour.”

  “I’m not going on tour. It’s cancelled.”

  He laughed at her. “I don’t believe that for a moment. Just come out. There’s so much I want to show you.”

  Kyle Reed probably didn’t think this whole situation through though. Bristol knew that if she just held on treading water in the deep end Kyle couldn’t get to her. She was a strong swimmer and if he tried to jump in to get her she could easily get away. Her arms and legs though were already spent, and she had no idea how long she could hold on for. How long had Lucas been gone for? What exactly was it he had to do? Oh God, please hurry up Lucas.

  No sooner had she thought and silently mouthed those words than the gate started to open again with its usual grinding sound. Oh thank God. She could just see headlights washing the driveway through the privacy hedge. It had to be Lucas, she recognized the sound of his big, black Hummer.

  “Lucas! Help!”

  A car door slammed. Reed made a run for it, but Lucas was quickly running toward the pool within seconds. He hurled himself over the hedge, sprinting across the laid stone of the pool deck. Reed’s loafer slipped on a puddle and he went down. Lucas was on him, pinning him to the rock.

  Bristol breathlessly hauled herself out of the pool and raced to her cell phone, where she called 911.

  3

  It seemed to take forever for the police to arrive. Lucas got Reed’s arms behind him, got a knee in his back, and held him. Reed wouldn’t shut up. Babbling about his love for “Brissy,” asking Lucas if he “could hear her blood calling to them,” creepy shit like that. Finally, Lucas had enough though and one punch was all it took to keep him quite until the police got there.

  Bristol hovered nearby, though he’d told her to go inside. She’d slipped on a thick robe over her bathing suit. Lucas’ adrenaline was pumping though, Bristol’s was for sure as well. Lucas had a hard time not thinking about the bathing suit she wore under that robe. Forget it Block. She’s a client. Probably in a little bit of shock right now. How could you think of her in that way right now?

  When the police came she gave her statement, the cops hauled Reed away, and it was almost one in the morning when Lucas found himself alone on the patio with Bristol.

  “Come in and have a nightcap with me,” she said.

  “I couldn’t. Wouldn’t be proper.”

  “Honestly?” She blinked at him. “Fuck proper. My husband left me today, and threatened to try and take away as much money as possible with him. Not to mention that he managed to let my stalker in on his way out. I don’t want to be alone right now, and I want a drink.”

  Husband left her? He knew he should tell her to call a girlfriend. He also knew she didn’t have too many of those. Most of them only wanted her for her fame or money, and the others her husband—ex-husband?—creeped out at one point or another. Lucas had seen it happen more than once in the brief time he had been with them. There was no arguing that he wanted to go have that drink with her, and that she probably really needed it so he nodded his head and the two of them started walking toward the main house.

  He followed her in and sat across the kitchen island from her. She’d kicked off her flip flops, and padded around the slate floor in bare feet as she made them each an old fashioned. She was a tall woman, but next to Lucas and in that giant white robe she looked so small in that moment.

  “So….He left YOU?”

  “He’s in love with Samantha. That was Samantha we met the other night if you didn’t catch her name. You know, when you escorted her from my bed to her car.”

  “I remember.”

  The argument replayed in Lucas’ ears. How long had it been since husband and wife screwed.

  “You’re still wearing your rings.” He pointed to her left hand. She looked down like he’d pointed out a spider crawling on her.

  “I guess I am.” She struggled to pull them off, resorting to putting her whole ring finger in her mouth to slide them over her knuckle. Lucas’ pants felt tight.

  She stood still lost in thought for a moment with the glass in her hand. “So I guess that means you know all my dirty secrets. Maybe it’s time I learned a bit about yours. It’s only fair. So what’s your deal?” She let the jewelry clink to the counter. The track lighting caught the diamond and it sparkled.

  “My deal?” Lucas couldn’t help thinking about the throb that happened in his pants as he watched her suck on her finger.

  “Yeah. I’ve known you for months, and I know literally nothing about you other than you’re big, strong, handsome, and you were overseas.”

  “Iraq.”

  “Okay, I know you were in Iraq.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Are you from L.A.?”

  “No one’s from L.A. I’m a farm boy. From Iowa.”

  “Iowa. Wow.”

  He didn’t know how much to tell her. Of course he knew all about her background, it was his job…grew up in Rhode Island with Ricky, got pretty big on the local scene, and those two crazy kids took a bus to L.A., where she became a pop star and he became nothing. and then less than
nothing.

  Should he tell her about his dad who used to beat the shit out of him on an almost daily basis? About holding his best friend’s hand as he died in the desert after they drove over an IED? About his ex, dumping him via email while he was stationed in Iraq? About how he’d thought about dating lately, but whenever he looked at another woman, all he could see was Bristol Maitland’s flaming red hair and brown eyes? The drink was having no relaxing effect on the adrenaline he felt from before, and was certainly doing nothing to calm the surge of energy in his pants.

  Then he made the move he could lose his job over. Lose his career over. He stood up, crossed to the other side of the kitchen island, and wrapped his arms around her. He kissed her on her full, pink lips.

  She stiffened in his arms for a beat, then turned soft, curving into him, kissing him back, letting him take control. He opened his mouth slightly, and she mirrored him. He ran a hand up her back, mostly bare except for the strings of her bathing suit. Her skin felt so soft. Desire rammed through him, a need to have this woman, to possess her, to make her his. He sent his tongue into her mouth, and she allowed it, starting to heat up, to kiss back.

  They parted for a moment.

  “Just for a night,” he said, because they could never be together. “Let me take your mind off him. You can fire me in the morning.”

  She didn’t take long to mull it over. “Hot tub?” Goosebumps rose all over her skin, and she was shivering.

  “Don’t have a suit.”

  “Does that matter?”

  * * *

  Oh Jeez, what was she doing? How long had it been since been with a man, especially someone like Lucas? Um, pretty much never. From the moment they got in the house she’d caught him watching her. The scare of the evening, the roiling emotions from earlier…she trusted Lucas with her life. She wanted to be close to someone, physical with then. He seemed to want the same thing. One night, get her mind off Ricky. Why not? She needed to do something out of her mind at this point.