And probably an Avenger.
“Vivian, wait.” Blue hurried out to the shadowy driveway.
Vivian Gordon’s long blond hair was slicked back and soaking into the back of her red T-shirt. She had the door of her Mercedes coupe open before Blue reached her.
“Wait.” He grabbed the door. “I’m Blue Rule. We met at a Flash game a few months ago.”
“I know who you are. I got your messages.” She stared at her toenails. Her bikini top triangles were soaking through the front of her T-shirt.
And yet Blue was unaffected. It was Maddy he wanted. Insightful, infuriating, Queen of the Comeback, Maddy. And Maddy he’d get when he was done here. The rest of it – the ego boost, the power surge, his bruised principles – he’d deal with his feelings after he’d dealt with his desire for Maddy. “Why did you come tonight? Those women are decades older than you are.”
“My Aunt Winnie thought the experience would do me good. But I think I’m scarred for life.”
Suddenly, Blue felt as if they’d just had no-names-sex in a club bathroom stall. “I…uh…I know this is going to sound weird, but if you ever need someone to talk to, about the divorce or anything – ”
“Divorce? Who said anything about a…” Vivian pinned him with sharp green eyes. “Did Jack tell you he was divorcing me?”
Shit. He felt like slime. “Well…uh…”
“I’ll kill him.”
“Let’s not get carried away.”
“My husband hired you people to get my rocks off and my aunt was in on it. Why shouldn’t I get carried away?” Vivian jumped behind the wheel, pulling the door closed so fast she almost caught Blue’s fingers.
“It’s not like that,” Blue protested, but she was gone.
He went inside and retrieved Mr. Jiggles, who was so exhausted, he didn’t so much as growl when Blue put him in his messenger bag carrier. The older ladies were in the kitchen, laughing and joking with each other. Their joi de vivre was contagious and would have made him smile if only one person wasn’t missing. “Where’s Maddy?”
Winnie beamed at him, looking less carnivorous than usual. “Maddy just left.”
“Can we do that again next week, Blackie?” Mary tucked a one hundred dollar bill in Blue’s pants pocket, like he was a stripper.
The tawdriness of what he’d done washed over Blue in a wave of revulsion that had him gasping like a fish washed ashore. This was why he didn’t want to follow in his father’s footsteps. Dooley Rule had no moral boundaries. At least when Blue had sex with a woman, he called it sex, not a Freedom Transformation. There was nothing freeing about what he’d done.
Winnie gasped dramatically. “Mama! That was inappropriate. Apologize.”
“Why?” Mary harrumphed. “Tipping is de rigueur. And he earned it.”
Taking slow, deep breaths, Blue gripped the white granite island countertop. Everything in Winnie’s house was clean, yet Blue felt dirty.
“Give her back the money,” Winnie commanded.
Blue set the bill on the counter and mumbled his goodbyes.
He sat in the Cayenne, blasting the air conditioner until both he and Mr. J had snapped out of their funk. He should have called Maddy and tried enticing her into his bed, but that felt sleazy, too. In the end, he drove home alone.
Vivian Gordon drove straight to the house she used to share with her husband, Jack, her veins burning with adrenaline.
So this was what Jack meant about wanting her to date. How dare he pay to make sure she was satisfied by someone else? Who cares if that someone never touched her?
It was humiliating. Beyond humiliating when she considered his dating Kaya Anika. That bitch was one of the most hated Amazing Race contestants ever. Just the idea of her power-grubbing hands on Jack made Viv want to punch someone.
She used her key and called out his name, but he didn’t answer, even though his car was in the garage. She finally found him in the pool swimming laps. The porch lights lit up the backyard like Broadway.
“You’re such an ass.” Vivian stood at the edge of the pool, arms crossed, legs spread, ready for battle.
“What is it now?” Jack was tan and gorgeous with his hair slicked back. He’d intimidated her when they first met, but had slowly revealed that he was just like any other human being – vulnerable, wanting love. And then something else had stolen his heart – his NBA team. She hated the Flash.
“Blue Rule and…and…”
Jack pulled himself out of the water. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on his body. He should have been a professional athlete the way he kept himself up.
“What, Vivian?” He sounded tired.
“If you thought I needed an orgasm, why didn’t you just offer yourself up?”
Jack paused a moment. “Are you saying that Blue Rule made you come?” He scowled at her wet clothes.
She looked, too. Her T-shirt and shorts were wet where her bikini was. Her nipples were taut from the cold air conditioner of her car, the cool breeze of the night, and seeing Jack.
“It wasn’t good enough,” she admitted. “With Blue.” No one could ever be good enough, because she only loved Jack.
He swore. He was so close to her, so nearly naked.
Impulsively, Vivian reached out and fondled him through his wet trunks.
He was firm, and then suddenly hard. His voice a deep rumble. “Do you remember that night in San Tropez, Viv?”
San Tropez. They’d been so happy there. Why would he mention it? “The private beach?” Taking a chance on what she suspected would only be a one night reunion, Vivian peeled off her T-shirt and came closer, pressing her hand over him again. He might reject her. Or he might make love to her and then send her away. Both scenarios could break her.
But what if he didn’t send her away? San Tropez. It would be worth it if she could mend the void between them. And Jack would always be worth the risk. She’d just never had the guts to throw herself at him before.
“Viv – ”
She shushed him. Now was not the time for talk. Viv reached back and loosened the ties of her bikini, tossing it over her head as well.
Maybe jealousy was the key she’d been missing all these months. Jack was a very possessive man. Honorable, driven, shrewd, but possessive of his things.
“Blue – ”
“Didn’t touch me like you do.” She slid her hands underneath Jack’s waistband, slid his trunks to the deck so that she was staring at his erection. It was natural to take him into her mouth, to pick up a rhythm she knew he couldn’t resist. And when he came hard and fast between her lips, she knew she’d gained ground.
He dragged her up, claiming one of her breasts with his mouth, bending her backwards until she thought she might have an answering explosion of her own. But before she came undone, he swept her off her feet and onto the plush cushions of a chaise lounge.
He kissed her, claiming her mouth like a gluttonous man devours forbidden fruit – quickly, eagerly. But then he stopped.
No!
He drew back and looked at her face, brushing a lock of hair from her eyes. “It’s you.”
Afraid he’d remember he didn’t love her anymore, she reached between them. Jack was hard again. She pulled aside the crotch of her bathing suit bottoms and guided him home. He filled her, not just her womb, but her heart. They were meant to be like this.
His gaze claimed hers. His hips pounded against hers. They came together in a frenzied rush.
He collapsed on top of her, his weight so familiar, she wanted to cry.
Instead, she hardened her heart. She should have used sex as a weapon months ago.
“Again,” she urged him in a sultry whisper. “Or are you too old?” He hated to be taunted.
He rolled onto his side, stroking her hair. “Kiss me.”
She poured her heart and longing into a marathon of kisses. With her mouth, her teeth, her tongue, she claimed him as hers. Maybe he wouldn’t realize it tonight. Maybe he wouldn’t realize it t
omorrow. But there was always someday.
They made love two more times before Vivian left him dozing on their lawn furniture. As she drove to her parents’ home in the wee hours of the morning, she made plans that included making her husband jealous enough and hot enough to realize he still loved her.
It was the first time she felt hope in months.
L.A. Happenings by Lyle Lincoln
…Has anyone noticed a wealth of bad boys around town? Tate Johnson (that oh-so-tattooed Survivor), Greg Bingham (wasn’t his last movie ten years ago?), Mick Rizzo (a regular on that testosterone laden Assy show) and Darren Bell (from the upstart L.A. Flash) were all seen picking up willing women at Tingle. Speaking of yummy bad boys…
…File this under: Wish I was There. Blue Rule was the only man at a Wicked Tantric private session with many, many women. That Senge Tenzing is a genius. Satisfaction guaranteed.
Chapter 19
“Vera, come look at this.” Maddy had hardly slept at all last night. She’d vacillated between admiration for Blue for his success with the women and annoyance that she’d kissed him, opening the door to an enjoyable, but ill-timed seduction.
How could she use any of the Freedom Transformation film when Blue practically had his back to the women in the spa? He’d been talking to the camera. To Maddy.
Vera shoved her laptop into her briefcase. “I’m going to be late for work if I look at one more scene of octogenarians getting their groove on.”
“It’s not the hot tub, it’s Blue.” Maddy cued up the scene, but before she could press play, Vera spun Maddy’s computer chair around so they were facing each other.
“Girlfriend, this is your intervention. You’re talking about Blue Rule as if he’s some kind of god. And I’m here to tell you, he’s not. He’s slept with just about everybody in Hollywood and – pay attention here – he’s pissed off just about every woman he’s slept with.”
Maddy scoffed, more for Vera’s benefit. She hadn’t told her about kissing Blue.
“Don’t you give me that I-don’t-care look, Maddy. I know you. You like this guy. You lusted after him long before you ever met him.”
“OK, I admit. He’s smart and sexy and surprisingly caring. He has a way of seeing women that’s amazing. He looks at a woman and zoop! He knows what a woman wants.” And although she’d guessed Blue didn’t know anything about the Rules of Attraction, once she’d jump started the Freedom Transformation, he’d taken over. Quite capably.
Vera crossed her arms over her chest. “And what do you think he thinks you want from him?”
“Just to film him. He thinks my work will crush his reputation. God, Vera, don’t get all hyper. I mean, I’ve seen what his dating pool looks like, and it’s not the Levi’s wearing, T-shirt from a rock concert type.”
“Just so we’re clear. I do not want to sweep you up off the floor when he uses his über powers to get you into bed and then breaks your heart. I hear everything you’re saying, but do you hear everything you’re saying? In there?” She pointed at Maddy’s heart.
Maddy replayed that second kiss, the one where they’d gotten into a groove together. “It would be bad for my career to sleep with him. Is that what you want to hear?”
“Yes. Promise me that you’ll only sleep with Blue Rule in your dreams. I can tell just from listening to his voice what he’s like. A guy like that…he could make you believe what’s between you is real just by breathing.” Vera grabbed her purse and laptop bag. “And the worst part of it would be that while you were together, you’d believe it was love.”
“Your love guru second sight is almost as scary as his.”
“Yeah, well, women are like candy to guys like him, guys who don’t want to grow up. Are you hearing me?”
“I am.” Maddy was duly knocked back to the pavement.
“Good, because I don’t want you to have to run a dry cleaning business. Or worse, lose Poppa Bert’s photo albums over a man.”
“Me, either.” What had she been thinking to let her mind drift to thoughts of her and Blue in bed. Vera was right. Anything that happened between them would just be trivial. And hadn’t Senge pointed out that Blue was the king of trivial. According to the sex instructor, Blue’s sex life wasn’t as good as it could be because he lacked an emotional connection.
Ha! There was some revenge for the Playboy Avengers. Blue wasn’t as good as they thought he was, although they considered him to be pretty damn good.
Thoughts about sex and Blue’s devilish ways wouldn’t get the sizzle reel done. Maddy went back to work until the devil himself called her.
“I meant to call you first thing this morning, but whoever leaked what happened last night to Lyle is now my best friend. My phone’s been ringing off the hook all day.” Blue sounded pleased.
“Do they want Freedom Transformations?”
“No, thank God.” His tone cooled considerably. “How would you like to meet with Plump Bird Studios tomorrow afternoon?”
She paused the video on a close up of Blue’s handsome face. “What’s the catch?”
“There’s no catch, Maddy. I just admire what you’re doing and think you should have a valid shot at making this work.” His phone voice was smoothly controlled, countering the low sexy baritone he’d used last night at Winnie’s house.
Maddy’s radar pinged a warning. She was, after all, the queen of bad choices in men. “Why don’t I believe you? What’s in it for you?” What about his all-important pride?
He chuckled, the deep sound reverberating across her skin as if he was sitting next to her, not miles away. “It’ll earn me points with Amber if you get this into production before she gets back.”
“We wouldn’t go into production. If we’re lucky, we’ll get funding for a pilot.”
“Whatever happens, it would make Amber happy.” He sounded resigned.
“Well, thank you.” Maddy smiled at his image on her computer screen. Maybe he was coming around to the idea of the reality show. “Don’t forget I’m going with you tonight to Ulani’s wrestling match. I contacted the promoter yesterday to get permission to film.”
“If you must.” He sighed. “I’ll pick you up at six. What’s your address?”
“I’m going to kill Quinby.” It wasn’t only Winnie who made Blue’s eye twitch.
“That’s assuming Ulani doesn’t kill you first.” Maddy fit in with the crowd in her blue jeans and black KISS T-shirt, but stood out with her video camera in front of the Memorial Sports Arena. In his button-down and slacks, Blue was overdressed. “You should have called her and explained about Quinby.”
“She’d just hang up. I’d rather surprise her.”
Mr. Jiggles growled when someone cut too close to Blue and bumped his carrier.
With fifteen minutes left until the wrestling matches started, the crowd entering the arena had thinned considerably. And there was still no sign of Quinby.
He looked at Maddy, his gaze dropping to her lips. If Quinby was a no-show, the night wouldn’t be a total loss. The sting of last night’s Freedom Transformation wasn’t as sharp with Maddy near. “You left last night before – ”
“Mr. Rule!” Professor Quinby ran like he was uncomfortable in his own body, limbs over-rotating and jerkily overcompensating. He stopped a few feet away and bent over. “Let me catch my breath.”
Maddy turned on Blue’s microphone, placed a mic on Quinby, and started the camera rolling. Her touch was the only thing that kept Blue from picking Quinby up and shaking him. “You’re late.”
“I know. I forgot to plug in my electric car and the battery was dead. So I had to take the bus.” The guy was a mess. His hair looked like he’d received an electrical charge and his Green Lantern T-shirt was wrinkled.
Blue briefly considered rescheduling, but quickly discarded the idea. Quinby was perfect and Blue needed to make things right with Ulani. “I’ll make sure you get a ride home, Quinby.” Preferably from his wrestling bride-to-be.
Blue gave
the ticket taker his passes and they made their way to front row seats. The crowd was brimming with beer and boisterousness.
The program listed the Hawaiian Princess in the first match of the evening. Maddy stood at the corner of the wrestling ring with her camera, taking in the stadium with a critical eye as if trying to determine what to shoot first. Then the lights dimmed and she lifted her camera to her shoulder, standing the same distance from Blue as she had last night when he’d attempted a verbal seduction.
“Would you like a beer?” Blue could use one to take the edge off his nerves.
“I don’t drink.” Quinby’s eyes were wide, taking in the crowd and the arena.
“Better and better,” Blue murmured.
A spotlight snapped on. An announcer stood in the ring wearing a dark suit with black sequined trim down the lapel and the side of each leg. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to the FWA’s Hot Summer Fights!”
The crowd jumped to its feet, roaring. Blue dragged Quinby to his. Maddy crouched down in the aisle to get good crotch shots of the front row and then angled around to capture the wrestlers entering the stadium.
“She’s the queen of the jungle, a tigress discovered deep in the wilds of the Brazilian wilderness. Her appetites are legendary. Put your hands together for Le Ti-gre!”
Under another spotlight, tan, muscular men in loincloths carried a platform with an equally muscular, reclining woman in a tiger stripped bikini and long, dark pony tail. As they approached the ring, Le Tigre stood, balancing by holding onto golden ropes attached to the corners of the platform. She hissed at Blue and Quinby as she was carried past.
Quinby cringed against Blue.
“It’s just an act.” Blue gently righted him. “No one gets hurt.”
When the procession stopped, Le Tigre shed the ropes and leapt into the ring, snarling and arching her body at each section of the audience like an angry cat.
“Who is worthy to stand against such primitive beauty?” the announcer cried.
On the Edge Page 94
