Body Shots

by Anne Rainey

  “You have a lot of explaining to do, woman,” Mollie grumbled.

  “Good morning to you, too,” Crystal said around a laugh.

  Silence from the other end, and then, “Spill.”

  Crystal gave her friend the nutshell version of events. By the time she was finished, Mollie was lecturing her on the use of condoms and meeting strange men in bars. When Mollie admitted to a twinge of jealousy, they both laughed. Before ending the call, Crystal promised she’d be home later.

  Slipping her phone back into her purse, Crystal headed for the closet on the adjacent wall. As she slid the door to the left, she found what she was looking for—a collection of men’s t-shirts. Apparently, they liked to keep things simple. Not a lot of colors or styles. Just a boatload of whites and blacks and a few tans. She grabbed a white shirt that sported the Kinks logo, pulled it over her head, and let it fall to mid-thigh, then turned toward the bathroom.

  Sometime in the middle of the night, she’d come awake to Trent leisurely washing her with a warm washcloth. It’d been the most intimate thing she’d ever experienced. He’d taken great pleasure in stroking the soft cotton over every inch of her, too. She’d been enraptured.

  Now, as she entered the huge bathroom, Crystal gasped. “Wow.”

  It was by far the largest bathroom she’d ever seen. It simply took her breath away.

  The walls were a soft beige, and there were double black sinks and recessed lighting that could be adjusted. The natural slate tile around the tub and inside the shower only added to the character and class of the room. She noticed the warmth of the tiled floor beneath her bare feet and realized it was heated. She’d died and gone to bathroom heaven.

  Now, staring longingly at the huge Jacuzzi-style tub, Crystal wished she had more time. She’d love to take a long, hot soak. But she was too anxious to wash her face and find the men who had so thoroughly satisfied her. Would they want to do it all over again? Already considering the possibilities, she felt her body grow warm.

  When she saw her reflection in the bathroom mirror, Crystal nearly scared the wits out of herself. Yikes. Her hair was everywhere but where it should be. Her face was totally free of makeup and scraped raw. Trent and Mac’s whiskers had abraded her skin when they’d kissed every inch of her face, giving her a rosy-cheeked look—which was not a pretty sight. The juncture between her thighs began to throb at the memory of their sexy mouths all over her body. They’d been so talented. She wanted to experience it again.

  Now, if at all possible.

  But if something wasn’t done with her hair, she would end up scaring the daylights out of the poor men. She never had been one of those women who woke up looking refreshed. No, usually she woke looking like something the dog dragged in.

  She turned on the cold water and splashed her face several times. It helped to take some of the redness out of her cheeks, but her hair was beyond repair. She’d need a shower to fix such a pathetic mess, but she didn’t want to waste another second. She wanted to find Trent and Mac. Then maybe they could share a really long good-bye kiss. Now that was a pleasant thought.

  Crystal was smiling again when she turned off the light in the bathroom and left the bedroom to search and seduce.

  She walked downstairs, her curiosity kicking into high gear as she wondered where the guys could have gone. Surely the nightclub was closed this early in the morning. She had no idea what time it was, but she could tell it was before dawn.

  As Crystal reached the lower level of the suite, she glanced tentatively around the large room. No one was in sight. She looked to the right and spotted two doors. One, she assumed, led to the kitchen, but the other looked like an office. She went to the second door and gently knocked. No one answered, so she tried the doorknob. Finding it unlocked, Crystal went in. It was so dark she couldn’t see her hand in front of her face. She located a light switch and flipped it.

  She’d definitely found Trent and Mac’s office. It was simple and neat. A large desk, computer, a filing cabinet. Her fingers absently stroked across the surface of the desk as her gaze roamed around the room. It seemed as if she were peeking behind the curtain. She felt naughty. She should turn back around and leave.

  But then her gaze came back to the desk and landed on the stack of papers that a paperweight was keeping securely in place. She moved the weight to the side and picked up the first page.

  “Find what you were looking for?”

  Crystal yelped. “Crap, Trent! You scared me.”

  Trent, his hard, gorgeous body clad only in a pair of jeans, stood in the doorway to the office, his arms crossed over his bare chest and a frown creasing his sexy brows.

  “Hungry?”

  “Starving,” she replied as she dropped the paper back on the desk and stepped away. “I was looking for you.”

  Trent’s gaze darkened. “Yeah?”

  “Mm-hm.” Crystal suddenly felt silly because it dawned on her that she was probably supposed to leave. Wasn’t that what one-night stand meant? One night, then you slip out and forget it ever happened. It occurred to her that she probably wouldn’t be seeing Trent and Mac after today. They’d had sex—great sex—but that’s all there was to it.

  Trent bent down, as if to kiss her, but Crystal stopped him when she heard voices. “Who’s here?” Crystal asked, trying not to sound so depressed that they weren’t alone.

  Trent merely grinned down at her and kissed her lightly, neither confirming nor denying whether he had company. As if he knew that by not telling her, she would only want to know even more.

  Who would be at a nightclub at dawn? Workers, maybe?

  Crystal walked around him and right out of the office. Trent was hot on her heels. “Uh, baby?”

  “I heard voices,” she said. It sounded as if they were coming from the kitchen. As she stepped through the swinging doors, Crystal walked smack into an argument that seemed well underway.

  A large man leaned against the counter. He looked a lot like Trent, only he was younger and somehow more mischievous-looking with the way his mouth kicked sideways in a roguish grin. Same dark hair, same piercing eyes. Beside him a beautiful dark-haired woman stood ramrod-straight, and another man, but much older, stood next to her with his arm wrapped around her. Crystal stared and listened to the woman berate the Trent look-alike. Whoever they were, it was clear they weren’t employees.

  The woman was tall and statuesque in her beauty. And even though it was obvious she was older, she’d taken care with her creamy skin, which was smooth and clear. Her hair was her most striking feature. It was still a lustrous shade of brown, despite her age, and it flowed down past her shoulders. She was slim, though shapely. Crystal watched in fascination as Trent moved around her and started talking to the woman in hushed tones. She spoke to him as if he were a child, instead of a grown man.

  Who on earth does this woman think she is?

  When she heard the woman say something about the atrocious nightclub Trent owned, Crystal decided enough was enough. She cleared her throat and stood a little straighter, her hands firmly planted on her hips. “Excuse me.”

  Suddenly, all eyes were on her and the room fell deadly silent. The older woman inhaled sharply as if shocked, the man standing beside her frowned disapprovingly, and Trent’s look-alike grinned wickedly. Trent’s smile wasn’t much different, except for the tiny hint of possessiveness lingering there.

  Too late, it registered in Crystal’s mind exactly why everyone was so silent. She looked down her body and groaned. All she had on was Trent’s T-shirt.

  Oh hell.

  She hurried out, anxious to escape.

  When she stepped back into the upstairs apartment, she glanced around the room. The bed looked as if a group of kids had played tag on it. It was a shambles. Hell, her clothes looked even worse than the bed. She went over to the heap and picked up what was supposed to be her dress. It was barely wearable, wrinkles making it obvious that it’d spent the night on the floor. “Yeah, like his guest
s hadn’t already figured that part out for themselves.”

  Crystal stepped into her bra and panties, then slipped back into her dress. She smoothed out some of the wrinkles as best she could, before moving to the wall mirror. “Crap,” she grumbled. Everything about her screamed that she’d just experienced a long night of hot, raunchy sex. Then again, what did she care? She was a grown woman; she could do what she wanted. She didn’t need these people’s approval.

  Crystal closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Opening them slowly, she attempted to keep an open mind as she gazed into the mirror this time. Yep, she was completely steeped in sex. Messy, frantic, lust-filled sex. A three-way, nonetheless. But she refused to feel bad. She hadn’t had a night like that in . . . well, ever. And it felt too good to let some unwelcome visitors spoil it for her.

  She slipped into her way-too-high shoes and went back out to face whoever had seen it necessary to intrude on her little paradise with Trent and Mac. And just where was Mac? He was nowhere in sight. Would she ever see him again? She sighed, feeling worse and worse by the second.

  Now that she was more awake, Crystal saw the scene in the kitchen from fresh eyes.

  There was something about the couple. They were made of money. She could spot the type a mile away. Heck, the way she’d been raised, it was hard not to spot money. She’d been brought up in a poor household. The church-handout type of poor. Oh, her mother had tried, bless her, but nothing had ever kept them from being food-stamp poor. Her father was nonexistent, since he’d split the day he’d knocked up her mother. As Crystal had grown older, she had learned to be grateful that she’d been an only child. It wasn’t that her mother was lazy, but she was a single parent and the entire concept of money seemed to elude her. It disappeared as soon as she earned it. So Crystal practically lived in T-shirts and jeans . . . on a good day.

  It was clear in Crystal’s mind that whoever was in Trent’s kitchen was, to put it mildly, rolling in it. It was in the clothes. The way the woman had held herself, regal and dignified. If that was the case, however, then why were they at Kinks nightclub?

  A question that would soon be answered.

  This time, when she reached the main floor, Crystal heard the arguing coming from the kitchen. It had increased in volume. She walked through the doors and was again face-to-face with the four of them. Crystal cleared her throat and was immediately the object of attention again. She’d never been a weak-willed woman, but with the four of them staring at her as if she’d suddenly grown three heads and sprouted wings, it was rather disconcerting. This time she was fully clothed, though, and she felt a bit more in control.

  She gave Trent a look that said, Who are these people? He quickly stepped forward, taking her hand in his, and proceeded to introduce her.

  “I’d like you to meet my parents, and the simpleton who cannot stop grinning is my brother, Josh.” Then Trent looked at his family and proudly announced, “This is Crystal Shaw.”

  His mom, dad, and brother? Oh God, it couldn’t be. That would be too cruel. She was beyond humiliated. Crystal felt like crawling under a rock and never resurfacing. Her face felt like it was glowing with mortification. Actually, she knew it was because she could feel the damn heat rising off it. She could cook an egg on it at that moment. All she could do was look at Trent with pleading eyes. Just so he’d lead her to the nearest hole and let it swallow her up.

  Trent winked at her in that roguish way of his and continued with his introductions.

  “I met Crystal in the club last night. She and I hit it off rather well.”

  Crystal was like a woman being led to the guillotine. She turned and looked at Mrs. Dailey, and to her astonishment the woman held out her hand. Crystal shook it with a nervous quickness that only punctuated her humiliation. That’s when Trent’s mother spoke to her.

  “What do you do for a living, Crystal?”

  She stuttered and stammered out her answer. “I’m an application developer.”

  “I’d think that would be quite a demanding job. Quite professional and respected, no doubt.” She aimed the last part of her comment toward Trent, who stood frowning and looking very much the unruly child. “Do you enjoy your work?”

  “It can get stressful, but I love it. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if I had a boring job that kept my creative juices from flowing freely. Even though at times it can all be very routine, it’s still a great feeling when a project is completed, and knowing I had a hand in it is reward enough.” She was babbling. God, what must Trent’s mother think of her? Crystal definitely hadn’t given her a good first impression.

  “Well, I can certainly hear the enthusiasm in your voice. We were just talking to Trent about rewarding jobs. Weren’t we, Trent?”

  “What my mother is trying to say, in her obscure and convoluted way, is that she does not approve of me owning a nightclub.”

  “Oh, Mrs. Dailey, your son’s nightclub isn’t exactly a dive. It seems to me that it does pretty well.” Crystal wasn’t sure if her opinion counted for much, but she couldn’t stand there and let Mrs. Dailey berate Trent about his club. He was obviously a good businessman.

  It wouldn’t do anyone any good to get into an argument with Trent’s mother, however, especially the first time out. The first time? Who said anything about future visits? Oh Lord, she was in so damn deep.

  “I’m sure the nightclub is . . . fine. I just think that Trent’s potential lies elsewhere. He belongs back at home and working with his father.”

  “Mom, don’t go into that again. I like this town, I like the nightclub, and I’m quite comfortable right where I am.” He looked at Crystal as he finished the rest of his statement, “Anyway, I’m rather addicted to the beautiful people here.”

  Mrs. Dailey was staring in thoughtful silence at Trent; tension filled the air all at once. And it was Mr. Dailey who broke it by changing the subject.

  “Crystal, I’m delighted to meet you.” He stuck his hand out for her to shake, and she took it with a smile. She found it warm and inviting, not like Mrs. Dailey’s colder, thinner hands.

  “It’s good to meet you, too. I see Trent gets his good looks from the both of you.”

  To her joy, his face lit up, and his eyes sparkled. The man was tall, probably over six feet, and had Trent’s same broad shoulders. She could also see, even with his now graying hair, the dark raven color woven throughout. It would have been the same color as Trent’s in his younger days. His face seemed chiseled right out of a stone block, but when he’d smiled his appearance altered. He looked more approachable, less like the stern father. Still, Trent’s mom was going to be one tough nut to crack. The woman’s expression had yet to change as she stared over at her son. His arms were crossed over his chest and he stared right back. Trent was definitely a chip off the stubborn block. Mrs. Dailey was clearly determined to have her way, and Trent was every bit as determined to not let her.

  Crystal was about to change the subject, to move them onto safer ground, when another voice intruded on the silence.

  “I have yet to meet Trent’s friend.”

  Crystal noticed Trent stiffen as if readying for battle when the brother stepped up to the plate and gave her his full attention.

  “I’m the better-looking brother, by the way.”

  “You wish,” Trent growled.

  Josh didn’t even blink; he simply stared at her. Like some old world duke he bent and kissed the back of her hand. Crystal couldn’t prevent a smile at the ridiculous gesture.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Josh.”

  “Trent asked me to come for a drink here last night, but I had a prior engagement. Now I’m sorely disappointed I didn’t cancel.”

  “Josh, don’t start. I’m warning you,” Trent bit out.

  Crystal could see things quickly deteriorating into a chest-pounding brawl, and as she watched Trent’s parents quietly staring in rebuke, it made her feel a bit sorry for Trent. He’d done so well for himself; clearly he could have had
it all handed to him, if only he’d agreed to work for his father. Instead, he’d set out on his own.

  “You know, I have an idea,” Trent said. “How about we all do dinner tonight? The five of us. There’s a great place across town that serves a mean streak.” Just as Crystal was about to protest, Trent bulldozed right over her. “That way you can get to know Crystal better.”

  She suddenly felt cornered. “I really don’t want to intrude,” she replied.

  Trent touched her cheek and said, “It’s not an intrusion. We can meet at Todd’s Steak House at six o’clock.”

  His mother spoke up, her voice as imposing as any queen’s. “That will do fine. Thank you for the invitation. In the meantime, your father and I plan to have Josh drop us off at our condominium. He brought us straight here from the airport, and we are quite exhausted.”

  She turned at that and strode toward a back door, apparently expecting the four of them to follow along. The funny thing was, just like good little children, they all did follow silently along. Crystal wanted to laugh at the idea of Trent’s father submissively trailing behind his wife. Crystal had a feeling Mrs. Dailey was the only person on the planet who would have ever expected Mr. Dailey to obey a command.

  Trent’s mother turned when she reached the door and kissed Trent’s cheek. “We still have things to discuss, son.” Without giving Trent a chance to respond, Mrs. Dailey looked over at Crystal and said, “It was very nice to meet you, Crystal. I look forward to getting to know you better.”

  After they left, Crystal turned toward Trent. “What did you get me into?”

  He grinned, totally unrepentant. “Dinner. I’ll take any chance I can get to see you again.”

  “Oh,” she said, as her stomach fluttered. “I’d like that very much.”

  “By the way, Mac says he’s sorry he missed you, but he had to get home. He wants you to call him.”

  Mac wanted to see her again, too? Could it be that both men wanted to continue . . . whatever it was they’d started last night? Trent stepped close and took her chin in his palm. “Last night was only a taste, baby.”