Pick Me (21 page)

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Authors: Kristine Mason

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Erotica, #Romantic, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Romantic Comedy

BOOK: Pick Me
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“A porn star?” She wrinkled her nose. “Really? Jonas? I mean he’s...” She shuddered just picturing Jonas naked. “Well, apparently he’d gotten his revenge anyway,” she said wryly.

He smoothed his hands down her back until he cupped her bottom. “Are we going to let him?” He squeezed her rear sending a shock of desire straight between her thighs. “’Cause I could think of a much sweeter vengeance.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck. Loving him, loving that he loved her. “You’re insatiable,” she chided, and nipped his lower lip. “And I like it. So tell me every sexy detail of your plan for vengeance.”

“First I’m going to ask you to marry me, then I’m going to strip you naked, spread your gorgeous thighs and...what? Not detailed enough?” he asked with a crooked grin.

Stunned, reeling, her heart beating to the point she might actually need a fibulator, she blinked a few times, then gripped his shirt. “Colt, I...I—”

“Marry me, baby. We picked each other, and I can’t imagine my life without you.”

A tear slipped down her cheek. “Yes,” she whispered, and kissed him until the sun slipped below the horizon. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Epilogue

 

 

Four months later...

 

“Showtime.”

Valentina looked up from her computer and smiled. Her husband had to be the sexist sight on earth. Freshly showered, his hair still damp, and wearing nothing but a pair of old baggy sweatpants and that crooked smile she loved. “Why didn’t you tell me you were jumping in the shower? I would have joined you.”

“Mmmhmm, ever since I installed the double shower massagers you insisted on after experiencing them in Jamaica, you’ve been taking an awful lot of showers lately. Should I be jealous?”

“Of a shower massager?” She lifted a shoulder and hid a smile as she closed the file she’d been working on, then turned off the computer. “Nothing beats the real thing, baby.” She winked and gave his tight butt a squeeze.

He snagged her arm as she moved past him and pinned her against the wall. “Don’t start something you can’t finish,” he said, his eyes darkening with desire before he kissed her.

She melted into the kiss, sank into his heat, wrapping her arms around his neck and grinding herself against his erection. He tore his skillful lips away with a frustrated groan. “You’re a bad girl. And all bad girls deserve a spanking.”

Running her finger along the arousal pressing underneath his sweatpants, she shook her head. “Promise?”

He pushed off the wall, and took her hand. “Oh yeah, you better believe it. Now c’mon, let’s go watch ourselves one last time.”

Snuggling on the couch next to Colt, she reached for the remote and turned on the TV.
Pick Me’s
cheesy theme song blared from the speaker, and she lowered the volume. “I hate that song,” she grumbled.

“After tonight, you don’t ever have to hear it again.”

“Thank God.”

He rubbed her arm. “No regrets?”

“None.” She kissed his cheek, then rested her head on his shoulder. How could she? Married to the greatest guy on earth, living on the most beautiful piece of land in the country, and making income doing the thing she loved most.

After they’d returned from Jamaica, she’d called Derek and told him the good and bad news. The good, she was marrying Colt. The bad, she quit the show. Derek didn’t seem the least surprised. He’d promised her the thirty thousand dollars all the bachelorette’s received on the completion of the show, plus a twenty thousand dollar bonus. The bonus, she’d supposed, was guilt money.

Derek had also informed her that World Entertainment had loved her screenplay,
Dark Knights,
and wanted to run the pilot, along with half a dozen shows over the summer to gage audience interest. If things went well,
Dark Knights
would air every Tuesday, during primetime, come the fall. Yeah, she had zero regrets. Well, except for having to watch
Pick Me
one last time. But, her darling husband had said viewing the show would give them closure. Because she’d do anything for him, she’d spent every Wednesday night for the past two months watching them date and fall in love on TV.

Tonight was the last show, and she didn’t need to see
Pick Me’s
reunion episode considering she’d lived through it. Both Brad and Trent had been there, offering their congratulations to them on their upcoming marriage, but it had turned out they had both needed some congratulating in return. Brad and Larissa had gotten engaged, and had decided to open their own gym. Trent...well, he’d run off to Las Vegas and had married his Goth, dental hygienist, Bridget. While they had been in Vegas, an agent had discovered him, drumming at a club with his band, and had landed him a record deal. Everyone had come out on top. Well, except for Jonas, who, last she’d heard from Derek, was flipping burgers at a fast food restaurant.

Her image appeared on their fifty two inch high definition TV, and she cringed. “Oh God,” she complained. “I hate seeing myself on TV.”

“Shhh, you look gorgeous.”

“And you look sexy. Too sexy. I don’t like the idea of women watching the show and drooling over my husband.”

“Jealous?”

She shrugged. “A little. Okay, a lot.”

“Good, now you know how I feel about the shower massager.”

“Colt, I swear I’m not having an affair with the stupid thing. Besides, it’s only fun if you’re there playing with it...and me.” She slipped her hand beneath his loose sweatpants and was rewarded with his thick arousal.

Snagging the remote from her lap, he turned off the TV.

“Hey, I thought you wanted to watch the show,” she said with little protest. She could care less about watching the final episode. Colt’s hard erection beat anything on TV.

He hauled her on top of his lap, and stripped off her t-shirt. “I already know how it ends,” he said, then buried his lips in her cleavage.

“Me too,” she groaned when he zeroed in on her nipple.

Happily ever after.

 

 

The End

 

 

 

 

 

About Kristine Mason

 

 

I didn’t pick up my first romance novel until I was in my late twenties. Immediately hooked, I read a bazillion books before deciding to write one of my own. After the birth of my first son I needed something to keep my mind from turning to mush, and Sesame Street wasn’t cutting it. While that first book will never see the light of day, something good had come from writing it. I realized my passion, and had found a career that I love.

 

When I’m not writing contemporary romances and dark, romantic suspense novels (or reading them!) I’m chasing after my four kids and two neurotic dogs.

 

You can email me at
[email protected]
, visit my website at
www.kristinemason.net
or find me on Facebook!

 

 

 

 

 

Coming Soon…

 

 

Look for
Treasure
Me
, book two of my Reality TV Romance series, fall of 2013.

 

If you enjoy dark, romantic suspense, the first book in my CORE trilogy,
Shadow of Danger
, will be released June 2013. Here’s a brief summary:

Four women have been found dead in the outskirts of a small Wisconsin town. The only witness, clairvoyant Celeste Risinski, observes these brutal murders through violent nightmares and hellish visions. The local sheriff, who believes in Celeste’s abilities and wants to rid their peaceful community of a killer, enlists the help on an old friend, Ian Scott, owner of a private
criminal investigation agency
, CORE. Because of Ian’s dark history with Celeste’s family, a history she knows nothing about, he sends his top criminalist, former FBI agent John Kain to investigate.

John doesn’t believe in Celeste’s mystic hocus-pocus, or in her visions of the murders. But just when he’s certain they’ve solved the crimes, with the use of science and evidence, more dead bodies are discovered. Could this somehow be the work of the same killer or were they dealing with a copycat? To catch a vicious murderer, the skeptical criminalist reluctantly turns to the sensual psychic for help. Yet with each step closer to finding the killer, John finds himself one step closer to losing his heart. 

 

 

 

 

 

Currently Available by Kristine Mason…

 

 

Kiss Me

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