Rush (2 page)

Gone was the reserved, almost shy, woman he’d met earlier. In her place was the on-camera siren who sold sex toys, handling them like a pro. That thought made his shoulders twitch. Would he be the first to assume a woman who sold sex toys also had vast intimate knowledge of how to use them? What kind of crazy kink would a woman like her be into? Watching her switch on a vibrator and stroke the shaft while extolling its virtues affected him more than he wanted it to. More than it should have. He wondered if he was the only one getting turned on by her display. He’d bet not. A woman like her would have men tripping themselves to get to her.

But there had been no reference of a husband, boyfriend or any other kind of personal relationship in her file. Maybe there were too many to mention. He shifted his feet, more uncomfortable with that notion than he had a right to be. He thought again of the photo of Mi and another woman by a lake with a baby stroller. The other woman looked too old to be the mother of an infant. So if the baby wasn’t Mi’s, whose was it? And where was the baby’s father?

Mi held up two odd looking things with small clamps. “Next up we have a beautiful set of cordless vibrating nipple clamps from Love’s Slave. Foreplay fun or masturbation enhancement, these lovely vibrating clamps are made of soft, supple rubber and are adjustable for your pleasure. Tickle, tease and please your perky tips hands-free, batteries included…”

Jesus. Lucas’s gaze immediately dropped to Mi’s breasts as she spoke. He first imagined using the nipple clamps on her, but quickly discarded that image, replacing it with his hands and mouth, licking and coaxing her nipples to stiff peaks…

“Increase your orgasmic pleasure by combining your Love’s Slave vibrating nipple clamps with the vibrator or dildo of your choice. Only twenty-nine, ninety-nine and available in three colors: pink, purple and silver…”

He’d like to increase
her
orgasmic pleasure and not with some battery operated contraption, but with hands and tongue and the slide of skin on skin. He pictured his hands pressed to her small breasts, his thumbs tracing circles around her aroused flesh…

“Also from Love’s Slave we have the Ride ‘Em Cowgirl, a stationary ride-on vibe with three speeds. Just place the Ride ‘Em Cowgirl on your bed or floor and set your own pace, slow and sensual or fast and hard. However you like it, you decide…”

A fine sweat coated Lucas’s forehead and upper lip. He adjusted the front of his pants, picturing Mi naked, rising over him, riding
him
like a cowgirl…

“This bubble gum pink ride-on vibe has adjustable speeds and a strong suction cup attachable to any surface for when you want to ride doggie-style…”

Fuck. His hands flexed at his sides as he pictured Mi on all fours in front of him. He gripped her hips, taking her hard and fast from behind just the way he’d like…

“Don’t forget tonight’s show special: Decadence’s Heart-on For You, a beautiful hand-blown glass phallus with a heart shaped handle and sensual beads for added stimulation. And
Pleasure at Home’s
own Slippery When Whet, a water-based, non-stain lubricant to enhance your sexual experience. Regularly fifty-nine…”

Was she wet right now? Did she get turned on, handling the long hard shafts, describing how to use them? Did she pleasure herself in the darkness of her bedroom late at night?

“We also have some wonderful products for gentlemen, beginning with the Super Stroker 3000 from Midnight Embrace.” Mi held up some kind of tube-looking device. “Extra long to accommodate any sized man, this deep throated stroker will bring you to completion and beyond. Soft, full lips wrap around your shaft, gently sucking…”

He’d experienced less painful torture in the Navy. Watching Mi’s sales pitch was the most erotic thing he’d seen in a long time. And it had been way too long since he’d had anything, but his own hand to slake his lust. He shifted his feet and looked around, needing another focus for his attention. He wanted to fill a sink and dunk his head, give it a good solid soak for the things he’d been thinking. Instead he let his gaze wander the studio, studying the layout, the exits, and the people. He catalogued everything, storing the knowledge away. He was here to protect Mi, nothing more. If only he could erase the erotic images that flickered across his mind like a porno movie.

Damn Cal and his stupid favor.

*****

An hour later, Mi wrapped up the show by repeating
Pleasure at Home’s
two phone numbers—one for women and one for men—and reminded her viewers that they could view all of tonight’s products and more online on
Pleasure at Home’s
website.

“That’s a wrap,” Crosby shouted.

Mi stepped off the stage, glad to be out of the glare of the lights that seemed sharper with the headache hovering at the back of her head. Her gaze automatically wandered the far corners of the studio, looking for Lucas. She found him near the door, arms folded over his chest. She could just make out his dark shape in the shadows. He looked more imposing than ever. She remembered how gentle, almost kind, he’d been with her earlier. The contrast in him gave her shivers.

She handed Tracey, the makeup artist, her on-show, trademark eyeglasses. It had been Mr. Sellers’s idea for her to wear them even though she had perfect eyesight. He’d thought the sexy librarian look would be a perfect contrast to Lucy’s blond bombshell. She missed Lucy. Doing the show without her wasn’t as much fun, but with just weeks left of her pregnancy, Lucy didn’t fit
Pleasure at Home’s
provocative image. A hugely pregnant woman wasn’t sexy, according to Mr. Sellers.

Mi and Tracey headed to the makeup room just off the main studio.
Pleasure at Home
was wildly successful, but not successful enough for anything more than a glorified closet as a makeup room. Tracey pulled the bobby pins from Mi’s hair while Mi attacked her face with a baby wipe. She hated the thick pancake makeup required for on-camera work. Tracey finished brushing out Mi’s hair just as Mi wiped the last of the makeup and cold cream off with a tissue.

Tracey set down the hairbrush and began cleaning up the makeup counter. “You’re all set, Mi.”

“Thanks, Tracey,” Mi said as she gathered her things. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” She turned to find Lucas crowding the doorway. “Oh! Hello.” Had he been there the whole time?

He examined her face as though it was a riddle that needed solving. “You have freckles,” he whispered more to himself than her.

Mi lowered her head a little, touching a finger to her lightly speckled nose. She hated her freckles. “Yeah, since I was a kid,” she answered just as quietly.

“Hmm.”

She couldn’t tell if that was a good ‘hmm’ or a bad ‘hmm’. He continued to study her face, his gaze tracing over every inch as though it intrigued him. She knew she looked much different without the makeup, which exaggerated the almond shape of her eyes, the fullness of her lips and the sharpness of her cheekbones. Most men only saw the sex kitten who sold personal pleasure devices, expecting her to be wild in bed. Her on-camera self was sexy and sought after, but her off-camera self was freckled and easily skipped over.

She didn’t know why the way he looked at her now made her feel apologetic, it just did. And it annoyed her. “It’s the makeup. I’m supposed to look the part.” She dropped her voice further until it was barely audible. “You know, seductive and alluring.”

He frowned, a deep V forming between his brows.

“Mi, you forgot this.” Tracey held out Mi’s cell phone, angling herself for an introduction to Lucas.

“Thank you. Tracey Casey meet Lucas Vega my—” And then it slipped out, catching Mi as unaware as anyone. “—boyfriend,” she finished, not daring to look at Lucas. What had she just done?

“Pleased to meet you,” Lucas said smoothly, as though it were true.

“Boyfriend?” She could feel Tracey’s questioning stare, but she didn’t dare look up.

“Yes, ah—”

Lucas cut in. “We’ve just made it official.”

And then Lucas draped his arm across her shoulders, bringing her up against his side. A decidedly hot and altogether hard side. She could smell the leather of his coat mixed with the fundamental scent of warm male. It was all she could do to not turn her head and rub her face against his chest, luxuriating in his scent like a bitch in heat. Instead she brought her arm up and under his jacket, laying her hand flat on his lower back just above the hard ridge of what was probably a gun. More heat. His muscles twitched under her palm.

Tracey tipped her head back and to one side. “Well then, congratulations. I suppose.”

Mi was surprised at the tone Tracey used. If she didn’t know better, she would have thought Tracey was being catty.

“Thank you. Well, we’d better go. See you tomorrow,” Mi told her.

Lucas navigated them through the doorway. Mi bunched a handful of his t-shirt in her fist to keep up with him. Once they were clear of Tracey, Lucas leaned down and whispered in her ear, his lips brushing her hair. “Nice explanation.”

“I didn’t know what to say. How to explain.”

“I’m not complaining. It’s the perfect excuse for us to be together twenty-four seven.”

She could have sworn he smoothed his cheek away more slowly than necessary. And he might have taken an extra deep breath while he did so.

“So you’re okay with that?” She hoped he was because they were getting looks on their way back through the studio, walking with their arms around each other.

“Sure. Unless you already have a boyfriend.”

Her answer came out rushed. “No. No boyfriend.”

“What the hell?” Crosby said from behind them.

They’d almost made it to the door when Crosby called them back. “Mi, in my office. Now!”

Mi would have dropped her arm, turning to go back was the perfect excuse, but Lucas still held her to him.

“Get in here and close the door.” Crosby waited while they crowded into his office, which wasn’t much bigger than the makeup room. Crosby gestured back and forth between them. “What the hell is all this?”

Lucas dropped his arm, forcing Mi to do the same. “Appearances. Unless you want everyone to know Mi has a bodyguard?”

“No. I suppose not.” Crosby never looked happy, but this was a new level of displeasure even for Crosby. “You’re gonna watch where you put your hands. You get me?”

Lucas tucked his hands in his pockets. “Yes, sir.”

“Crosby.” Mi’s cheeks heated. She felt about sixteen, going on her first date
.

“There are a bunch of goddamned protesters out front, more than usual,” Crosby said. “Sellers hired a couple of guards for outside, but I wanted to give you the heads up. The lady from C.A.L.M. is out there with a goddamned megaphone, stirring up all kinds of shit.”

“C.A.L.M.?” Lucas asked.

“Christians Against Loose Morals,” Mi explained. She tried not to show how much it bothered her that Cookie Dixon and her group picketed every show taping or that their numbers seemed to be growing every week. When she met Crosby’s eyes and saw the softening of his expression, she knew she hadn’t pulled it off.

“It’ll be all right, kid. You’re well protected.” Crosby sent Lucas a look, communicating something Mi didn’t catch. “Investment number one, remember? Here’s your mail.” He handed a stack of envelopes to Lucas. “I know you like to answer your fan mail, but from here on out, he goes through it with you. Anything that’s off gets bagged and goes to Detective Rolls. Got it?” Crosby said more to Lucas than Mi. “Now get out of here.”

They did as Crosby said, exiting the building through a side entrance near where Mi had parked her car. The building that housed the
Pleasure at Home
studio and offices looked like every other building in the huge industrial complex just outside of Dallas.

The air hung heavy with the heat of the dying day. The last rays of the sun slashed the sky orange and red, foretelling another day of oppressive summer tomorrow. They could hear the crowd on the other side of the building, sending up cheers after everything Cookie Dixon said through her megaphone. Mi tried not to let the negativity and hatred get to her, but it was hard when so much of it was often directed at her as one of the faces of
Pleasure at Home
.

Lucas held out his hand. “Give me your keys.”

“Why?”

They’d reached Mi’s car, a compact sedan that looked like every other vehicle in the parking lot, and faced off on the driver’s side of the car.

“I drive,” Lucas insisted.

“This is my car.”

“For me to do my job I’m going to need you to do what I say. Sometimes I’ll be able to give you a reason, sometimes not.”

“So what’s your reason?”

He looked at her for a moment like he wouldn’t answer, challenging her to go along without having to give her a reason. Then he seemed to come to some kind of decision. “I’d feel weird having you drive me around.”

She dropped the keys into his palm. “That’s as good a reason as any, I suppose.”

He walked her around to her side of the car and opened the door for her. She saw him flick a look at the car seat in the back and cringed inside, anticipating his questions. Instead he closed the door without comment, which felt almost like he’d closed off a part of himself.