by Sasha
When he finally managed to catch his breath, he looked up to find an empty stage, the lights back up and the usual DJ music pumping from the speakers. Grant’s heart raced in his ears, and he swallowed, discreetly wiping his hand on the inside of his robe before retreating back to the changing room to pick up his clothes.
While talking to Zenobia wouldn’t be his preferred course of action, he knew he was way too far into this game to back down now. He had to figure Vivica out or he’d go mad. He told himself it had nothing to do with feelings. He could have no feelings for someone that so obviously despised him. And most importantly, Grant didn’t do feelings. So when Zenobia asked him what this was all about, he really had no answer ready.
“I just need to know.” Grant knew it was lame, but it was the best he could come up with
“You’ve got to give me a bit more than that.” Zenobia crossed her arms over her chest, looking over her shoulder and giving Wes a little wave as though to say it was all good.
“Do you even know her?”
“Does it matter?”
Grant sighed. “I just… She seems to hate me. And I never met her before. I can’t figure out what’s up with her.”
Zenobia tilted her head to the side. “Why do you care at all, though? I mean…you didn’t strike me as a one-woman guy.”
Grant rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah. Well. I’m not.”
“Then why do you care? Let Vivica be and just… enjoy the contest.”
“It’s not that easy.”
Zenobia smiled. “So you do care.”
“No.”
“Well, then tell me why you are asking.”
Grant threw his hands up in frustration. “Whatever, never mind. I knew it was stupid to come to you.”
He made to leave, but Zenobia quickly grabbed his shoulder, holding him back.
“Wait. Look. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I just don’t think that it’s my place to say anything.”
“Do you know her then?”
“I used to. Not much now, though. She’s been away for awhile.” Zenobia paused. Grant was bursting to ask her more, but he was afraid that if he started saying something, he’d interrupt Zenobia’s flow. “I’m just saying… don’t get too hung up on her. Unless there’s something, you’re not telling me.”
“But why?”
“She’s not your ordinary girl.”
Well, duh.
“She hasn’t been with anyone in a very, very long time.”
“But why then go to a contest like the Casa Blanca's Summer Bombshell!”
That was the million dollar question, wasn’t it? Grant had walked in on at least five other contestants getting it on backstage. It seemed like everyone who was making it through the rounds had the same goal in their minds.
“Maybe she wants something else.”
“But what?”
Zenobia laughed softly. “I don’t know, Grant. You should ask her that, though. You can say whatever you want, but this is really bugging you, and I think it might be worth it to try to talk to Vivica, rather than put on your speed-dating charm.”
They both shared a chuckle and it was like a curtain of tension between them had dissipated.
“Okay. Um. Can I go get a drink, or is your boyfriend going to lay the smackdown on me?”
Zenobia laughed and looked over at where Wes was pretending really hard he wasn’t listening. “I think you’ll be all right.”
Chapter 6
The week had gone by smoothly. Grant had made it through each and every round, and so had Vivica. Instead of doing what Zenobia had suggested he should, though, he had backed away from her completely.
It wasn’t done at random. He had a plan. A cunning plan at that. Now, whether or not he could pull it off was entirely up to chance, but Grant was nothing if not self-confident. He had run his plan by Domino, his pet Labrador, and general consent was that his plan was good. And tonight was the contest finale. It was his last—and only—chance.
Vivica didn’t seem too suspicious of the sudden cold shoulder Grant was presenting. She had given him a few diffident glares, much like a cat that doesn’t trust you not to prowl on their turf, but Grant had doggedly refused to step within ten feet of her. Considering how small the changing room was, that was no easy feat.
Zenobia had said something—maybe there were other reasons for the contest than getting laid, and Grant was trying to figure them out. If he couldn’t… well, then it was pointless for him to even try approaching Vivica again. It was something new for Grant, who never waited for anything in his life, but he figured giving it a shot couldn’t hurt.
As he stripped out of his outfit night after night for the cheering crowd, he found that the thrill didn’t come from knowing how many of them wanted him. There was only one person that he cared about and he was putting on his best show for her.
Vivica was suspicious, but that was okay. Grant still had some time to prove himself to her. And he would. As the contest progressed, he realized he enjoyed dancing and enjoyed entertaining people more than fucking cheap tricks against the bathroom door. The rest of the contestants faded in the background as Grant found himself in front of his mirror at home, rehearsing the number he was going to do for his final number. He had the perfect song for closing night. It was from the same artist Vivica had chosen the first night, and Grant thought it put into words what he was feeling more than he could.
He was backstage drinking something with a pink umbrella sticking out of the glass when he felt a hand on his back and found himself staring face to face to one of the few who had made it through to the finale with him and Vivica. Grant was shocked to realize he didn’t know who else was in the running for the title.
“Hey,” the man said, smiling seductively at him. “How’s it going, gorgeous?”
Grant cringed. Wow. He didn’t know what he felt more uneasy about, that someone would use something so cliché to hit on him, or that he had used the very same line on Vivica.
“Hey you.” Grant smiled, subtly stepping away from him and taking a sip of his drink.
“Been watching you perform,” she said, her tone sultry, taking half a step forward again.
“Can’t return the compliment, sadly.” Grant felt a bit bad, because she was indeed gorgeous. Perfect features, like most Miami women, but she was too slim with too much make up. She wasn’t Vivica. Period. “I’m not interested.”
The woman’s sultry looks disappeared and disdain replaced it. Grant had to chuckle. Now that was familiar. The woman walked off, and that’s when Grant saw her. It was the first time Vivica and Grant had even crossed glances in the past week, and her deep brown eyes looked inscrutable. It made Grant a bit uneasy, but he still gave him a small smile and a wave and made himself turn away first, even though he was aware of her eyes on his back. He couldn’t back down now. If his stupidly cunning plan was going to work, he needed to keep his cool.
Thankfully, it was almost time for Vivica to walk on stage. This round, Tasha had pulled their names out of an empty cocktail glass, and Grant was going to go last. Which suited him, because he didn’t think his nerves could have coped otherwise. It was one thing was to have his cunning plan fail, an entirely different thing to have it fail in front of every single patron Casa Blanca ever held.
Vivica’s performance was flawless and hot enough that Grant thought it prudent to grab a drink of water from the bar before going on stage himself. Zenobia winked at him and squeezed his wrist reassuringly as she handed him his glass of ice and wished him luck.
“Thanks,” Grant croaked as he downed his glass, his heart racing uncomfortably in his ribcage.
“She’s watching you,” Zenobia said with a wink as she pulled back, pretending to wipe the bar while Wes pretended he wasn’t looking at her ass as she bent over. “Just… do what you want to do, and that’ll be the end of it.”
Yeah, easy for you to say.
Grant nodded and finished his water as Tasha walked on stage
to a deafening roar.
“And now… be prepared for the closing act… I give you our last contestant in the running for Casa Blanca's Summer Bombshell. Give it up for Grant!”
Grant walked out on stage with a confident smile, his leather and feather-clad suit shining under the dimming lights. He took the center of the stage, hands on his hips, and waited.
But if I had you, that would be the only thing I would ever need…
This time, he looked around, and this time, he found Vivica not backstage, but first row. A little to the side, still hidden enough not to be conspicuous, but she was there. Grant hoped it meant what he thought it meant, and started unbuttoning his shirt, sensually moving in time with the disco song, feeling the lyrics not only around him, but inside of him, believing that what they meant, this time, was real.
He didn’t know if he was in love with Vivica—that was a bit too much and Grant didn’t like to think about it. But he knew that she was the only person in his life that made him stop and rethink his routine. And well, even if nothing happened… maybe it would still be worth it. Not that Grant would be okay with nothing happening. Far from it. It would probably hurt a little more than he cared to admit, but he would at least respect it, and know, intimately, that he’d done everything he could to make her stop and take notice. And even if he didn’t dare to hope, it looked like Grant’s plan had worked.
Feeling daring, Grant took his shirt off, tucked the ends of it around his chest with a mischievous grin and tossed it at a bemused Vivica while the crowd went wild.
It’d be ecstasy if I had you…
Grant was surprised by how much he meant it. In a week, Vivica had hooked him and made him want something more than a long string of one-night stands. Grant undid his belt and rolled it around one of his hands, keeping the other hand in his closed fist as he brought it behind his neck and went down on his knees, still swaying to the music, head thrown back and lips parted.
He had put on pants that he could unbutton rather than unzip on purpose. He wanted to draw it out, make it last. This was his last performance—and his last chance to have Vivica stand up and take notice.
He popped the buttons one by one, walking with his knees closer and closer to the stage, feeling the sweat drip from his hairline to his tailbone, knowing that the gold spray he had used would soon be melting, leaving hints of glitter around the curve of his muscles.
When he popped the last button, he whipped his head up, long bangs falling on his face as he fixated the crowd with a smoldering stare. He knew she was watching, could feel the prickling at the back of his neck. He tugged at his pants and the seams ripped, leaving him in only the tiniest pair of black Speedos. The club stood, as a whole, clapping and cheering as Grant hooked his ankle around the pole to draw himself up, dragging his cock along the pole.
There was really no hiding the effect Vivica had on him, especially not with his underwear choice, but it wasn’t like Grant cared. His cock bulged the thin satin fabric of his G-string, scantily covering his tight, full balls, and the curve of his ass.
When the song ended, Vivica was nowhere to be seen. Grant bowed to the crowd, heartbeat going wild and fled backstage.
It was now or never.
Chapter 7
Grant didn’t need to go far. The moment he stepped off the stage and walked through the curtains in the back area, Vivica was right there, looking just as drop dead gorgeous as Grant had remembered. Any doubts he might have had about whether or not holding onto his plan had been worth it flew out of the window.
“What the fuck was all that about?”
So he’d gotten the unflappable woman to curse. That was something.
“What do you think?”
Answering questions with questions had gotten Grant out of a lot of tight spots. Maybe it would work this time, too.
“Don’t fucking play games with me. What was that?”
“Did you enjoy it?”
Vivica walked up in his face and made to grab his shoulder but stopped short, almost hesitant when all she could see was Grant’s sleek, shining naked skin.
“I don’t like you,” Vivica said slowly, her voice strained, as though her jaw was too tight to speak. “I don’t like games and I don’t like what you represent. I don’t like people like you.”
Grant blinked. “Wait a second, what do you mean people like me?”
“Players,” Vivica said the word as though it was an insult. “Those who think they can get away with everything they want.”
“I’m not like that,” he seethed.
“How are you not like that? I’ve seen you with pretty much every single contestant since the very first night.”
“I talked to you, though.”
“Yes. As did many others. You wouldn’t even have known my name if it weren't for Tasha announcing each of us.”
“I asked! You didn’t want to tell me.”
“Like you’d have remembered the morning after!”
Grant blinked. “Hold on a second. What are you punishing me for? Or who?”
Vivica looked like she’d just been slapped. She quickly turned her back on Grant, but he made a wild grab for her and pulled her back around, the touch of her skin burning hot against his hand.
“No, no, no. Hold on a second, you don’t get to do this.”
Vivica yanked his arm away. “Let go!”
“Not even in your dreams.” Grant tightened his grip. “What the fuck happened? Someone screw you over years ago or some shit, and now you gotta make a point every year?”
Vivica’s calm, brown face was flushed and twisted with anger. “Screw you! You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Then why don’t you fucking tell me rather than yell in my face? I did absolutely nothing to you, and whoever it is you’re angry at, it’s not me. Tearing me apart won’t make you feel better.”
That seemed to register with Vivica. She looked lost, as though she’d just realized she was standing in front of a shivering Grant, in the backstage of the Casa Blanca's Summer Bombshell contest and with the results still to be announced, and s suddenly deflated like a punctured balloon.
“Fuck,” he whispered.
For a split instant, Grant saw all the superiority she seemed to possess, all the timeless wisdom, stripped away. Vivica looked hurt and lost and young. It made Grant’s chest ache.
“I’m sorry. I started this all wrong, and I’m sorry I made you think I was an asshole.”
“Not your fault.”
“No, it was, too, but if you’d listen to me one minute—”
“Guys!” Someone threw a robe over Grant’s shoulders. “Come on up on stage, they’re about to announce the winner.”
“But—”
“Grant. Vivica. Both of you, you can finish whatever it is you’ve started in five,” Tasha called from the front. “Up on stage with the rest of ’em.”
“Tasha, can’t I…”
“Vivica, you get your sweet ass up there, honey. Grant. You too.”
Grant held Vivica’s glance for a long, intense moment. He reached for her wrist and squeezed, hoping that she wouldn’t vanish the moment he wasn’t clutching her. She did look in fact like she’d rather be anywhere but there. She struggled to put her game face back on as they walked out on stage to enormous cheers, fixing her smile and swagger as though fire hadn’t just passed between them, but Grant could see right through her act.
The cracks were there. Now it was up to him to catch all the pieces.
They filed on stage one by one: Grant, Vivica, the woman who had hit on him earlier, and another male contestant. They smiled and took their bows while Tasha announced each of them to the club at large, but Grant wasn’t listening. He tried not to be too obvious, but his eyes kept straying back to Vivica at the other end of the line.
He would’ve given anything to have been eliminated in one of the earlier rounds.
“Okay ladies and gents, you know the drill. We’ve seen some pr
etty hot shows this week, so give a hand to everyone who participated in your eyes’ delight!” More clapping. “In the Men’s Category... as of popular vote… the winner of this summer Casa Blanca's Summer Bombshell is…”
Drum roll. Grant fidgeted on his feet. Let’s get this over with, please, please, please…
“Grant!”
Grant blinked as a shower of sparkles and glitter fell with a whoosh above his head and the other man in the running moved to hug him and congratulate him. Tasha had a beautiful hand made bronze crown in her hands and was grinning at him as though her birthday had come early, but Grant couldn’t wait to get himself out of their clutches and get to Vivica before she disappeared, or before she pulled away behind the mask it took so long to work under. He didn’t even pay attention when they announced the female winner.
The crowning and the pictures and the round of honor didn’t take more than a few minutes, but it was hours in Grant’s mind. Finally, finally he managed to get backstage, but, predictably, Vivica wasn’t anywhere to be found. Heart sinking, he trudged back to his dressing room and changed, a million thoughts swimming around his head like clouds of smoke. He couldn’t pinpoint how he was feeling. His chest was hollowed out, and even breathing was painful. He wasn’t angry, but he felt like he’d been let down—and he had thought his plan had worked. He thought he’d hit it right on the head.
Something had happened, and Vivica had been holding a grudge ever since. Which was understandable. It still didn’t fit as to why she would join in the contest. What was she trying to prove?
Grant’s gloomy train of thoughts shattered the moment he opened the door and found himself face to face with Vivica.
He could only stare at her. He couldn’t get his brain and his mouth to work at the same time. He thought Vivica was shaking. She looked distressed, but a bit hopeful, too, and Grant didn’t know if there was anyone in the world who was more beautiful.
