Glitter on the Web (25 page)

“Well, at least I know now you’re telling the truth.” Off my look he said, “There’s no way you could kiss me like that if he had fucked you. You’re still hungry,” he decided. “I’m suddenly very curious to know for what.”

Without a word, I climbed out of the hot tub and stomped into the house. I took a long, frigid shower, to rid myself of these horrible, treasonous thoughts and responses. I was afraid what might happen if I found Eli in bed waiting for me, but as it turned out I didn’t have to worry about it.

Eli wasn’t in bed when I emerged from the bathroom.

He wasn’t home at all.

He left and stayed gone all night long.

CHAPTER
FIFTEEN

I finally went to sleep around daybreak. It was the first time since I started taking it that I missed the hydrocodone, and wondered if that was the reason I couldn’t get to sleep.

That had to be the reason. There could be no other reason.

I didn’t get much of a chance for any shuteye, however. By eight o’clock, Eli entered the room, humming his new song to himself, as he placed a tray of breakfast on the bed. “Rise and shine, sleepyhead,” he said with a deceptively sunny smile.

I regarded him cautiously as I sat up. “Where were you?”

He sat on the bed beside me. “Why? Were you worried?”

I glared at him. “Or maybe I was just worried you torpedoed all the progress we made, especially after you made it such a point to reprimand me for risking something like that.”

He chuckled. “Tell yourself whatever you need to, darlin’. It’s your conscience. Not mine.”

I crossed my arms in front of me, stubbornly refusing his … well, what I could only suppose was his peace offering.

I was wrong.

He pulled out the contract that I had signed when I agreed to this farce in the first place. “Consider this our relationship constitution,” he said as he handed it to me. “Binding in all fifty states. And Puerto Rico. And maybe Guam.”

I narrowed my gaze as I referred to the part of the contract that he had marked with an arrow sticky note. “
By signing this document, I, the undersigned, agree to maintain appearances of a mutually satisfactory relationship as dictated by the current standard of such in our culture
.”

“What does this mean?” I asked.

“You can’t cheat,” he answered instantly. “If you get caught with anybody else, it nullifies the contract and you owe me every cent of that original million. That means no matter how he gets your motor revved, you can’t fuck Caz Bixby until January of next year. I’d mark my calendar if I were you.”

I fumed. He had the audacity to shame me after staying out all night? “And what about you?”

He shrugged. “You can fuck me all you want to. Frankly I’m surprised you don’t.”

“I meant,” I gritted through clenched teeth, “where is your provision to stay faithful?”

“Don’t have one,” he announced happily. “I didn’t sign the contract. You did.”

I wanted to turn over the tray and dump all the food onto the floor. I resisted, but barely. “So I get to be the monogamous girlfriend while you can whore yourself out to every woman in town?”

He thought about that a moment before he nodded. “Something like that. Again like most married couples I know. Should we fly to Vegas and make it official?”

“Fuck you,” I hissed as I shoved the tray aside.

“Whenever you’re ready, sweetheart,” he said. But it wasn’t teasing this time. There was a hard glint in his eye, almost as if he dared me.

“I told you I didn’t cheat on you,” I snapped.

“And I believe you,” he said. “This is just a safeguard in case you get a wild hair to try it again.”

“Try what again?”

“To use another man to forget about me,” he said softly.

I scooted across the bed and slammed off into the bathroom before I shoved the tray of food down his damnable throat.

I dallied in the bathroom, but it didn’t matter. Eli still waited for me when I got out. He was fully dressed by now, and so was I. He shadowed me out to my car. “What are you doing?” I finally asked.

“I thought I’d ride with you to the club, my pet,” he smiled. “The show is in a few days. I have to rehearse. I cleared my whole day to do it. Unless, of course, you don’t want me to go,” he added with a big doe-eyed stare and exaggerated pout.

I seethed as I stared at him. “Fine. Get in. If you dare,” I added before slamming into the driver’s side.

He climbed into the passenger side. “You might want to use your seat belt,” I offered, and barely gave him a chance to fasten it before we squealed out of the driveway. That he found this all terribly amusing only pissed me off even more.

He was all smiles as we entered the empty nightclub. Both Clem and Antoine greeted him warmly, like an old friend. Of course they would. They thought he was a pretty decent guy deep down, otherwise I wouldn’t have dropped all my principles like a sack of potatoes and shacked up with the guy, the perfect picture of a moony-eyed girlfriend.

It made my mood even more difficult to manage. I wanted to scream and rail, but I was forced to smile and engage rationally with everyone, like I wasn’t some hormonally crazed maniac. After all, it wasn’t their fault I had sold my soul to the devil.

That devil, Eli Blake, knew just how well he had painted me into a corner. I could tell by the victorious smile he wore, which everyone else assumed was simple happiness. Of course he was happy. He could blow his wad all over town. I had to obey some vow of chastity I never even knew I had taken.

I almost wished the bar was open. I needed a stiff drink. I needed a stiff… everything.

It didn’t help that he sang his most provocative tunes. But why wouldn’t he? He was paid very well to seduce women far and wide with nothing more than his sexy songs and those killer looks. Those two things would bring scads of new fans to FFF opening night. His Meet & Greet tickets, priced at a whopping $350 a piece, had already sold out. Granted there were only fifteen, but still.

Made me wonder what Caz Bixby got paid per hour.

Caz showed up that first day, and every other day once he realized that it got under Eli’s skin for him to do it. I honestly thought that was most of my appeal for someone like Caz. He and Eli were a lot alike. They both wanted to win.

By March 15
^th
I realized that no matter who won, I was the real loser in the scenario. It made me surlier than usual. March 17
^th
was going to be one of the most important nights of my life, and all I wanted was for it to be over.

I barked as much to Clem before I got a rein on my senses. “I gotta get out of here,” I decided. She nodded. She agreed.

I didn’t go home. I couldn’t go home. I had no home. Instead I just drove. I drove down Hollywood Boulevard, to watch the tourists crowd the iconic street. I drove Sepulveda, all the way from West Los Angeles to South Bay. I drove down the Imperial Highway, all the way to Orange County.

I drove so far I needed GPS to get back. It was late by then, nearly ten o’clock when I finally walked through the front door. I heard music coming from the living room, so I knew that Eli was already home. He was working on that tune, playing it over and over again. I sighed as I walked down the hallway, across his prized lapacho flooring, but stopped cold when I heard a woman’s laughter.

I peered around the corner, where I spotted Julie sitting next to Eli on the piano bench. He was playing to her by candlelight, leaning close as he hummed along to his still wordless song. She giggled. Beau Jangles rubbed up against her, demanding her attention.

“
He usually doesn’t like the women I bring home
,” he had once told me. It made me wonder at once if that was a line… or if Beau Jangles found me as replaceable as his master.

I cleared my throat and both turned around to face me. “You’re home,” he announced, as his fingers continued to play.

Julie hopped up, almost guiltily. She grabbed some paperwork from the piano to bring to me. “Frank wanted me to pop these over for you to look at and sign,” she said as she reached me. From the blush in her cheeks, I knew that wasn’t the only reason she had been so eager for the errand.

“Thank you,” I said, taking the folder from her, my tone flat and cold.

“I should probably go,” she offered.

“Don’t be silly,” Eli cajoled. “Since it’s so late, we’ll probably just order in. Right, honey?” he asked, his eyes landing on me.

“I’m tired,” I announced. “I think I’ll just go to bed.” I took the folder under my arm and headed for the bedroom.

It did not go unnoticed that it took him a full hour to join me, nor did it go unnoticed that was five minutes after Julie’s car finally pulled from the drive. I was reading on my tablet when he finally closed the bedroom door behind him. He unbuttoned his shirt as he approached. “What’s the matter, babe? Caz Bixby still couldn’t scratch that itch?”

“I didn’t go see Caz,” I muttered. I refused to look at him. I also wished I had a physical book in my hand. It would have had so much more oomph to flip through each and every page I pretended to read rather than just swiping my finger across a screen.

He plopped on the bed beside me. “Damn shame. You really should do something about that attitude, darlin’. You’re bumming everyone out.”

I glared at him finally. “And that’s a move from your personal playbook, I take it?”

“Of course,” he said with a smile. “Pity parties are a drag. Haven’t you figured that out by now?”

I growled in frustration and referred back to my book. I had swiped through a dozen pages without reading one damned word. “You’re such an asshole.”

“Better to be a happy asshole than a horny bitch,” he countered. I threw my tablet on the end table and hopped off the bed. He was quick to join me. “But I get it. Someone as repressed as you. It makes sense.”

“Repressed?” I echoed through my clenched teeth.

“It can’t be any fun living with all those restrictions you impose on yourself.”

“Imposing… restrictions… myself?” I spat, unable to put the words together because I was infuriated. “You’re the one who restricts me, Eli!”

“Au contraire,” he said, before he booped me on the nose with his index finger. I
hated
it when he did that, and as usual I slapped it away. “You’re the one who made the rules. I’m just living by them.”

“You’re the one who says I can’t sleep with anyone else,” I gritted.

“No,” he corrected. “You agreed to that when you signed the contract. Is it really my fault that you couldn’t last more than three months in my presence without a nice hard dick?” He stepped closer, using my astonishment to his favor. “I guess it kind of is. My bad for being such a tease.” He bent for a kiss but I spun away.

“What I want doesn’t have anything to do with you!”

“You can lie to yourself, but you can’t lie to me. If you didn’t want me, you’d have fucked Caz by now. Or maybe you just don’t want to come to terms with how vanilla you really are.”

I spun back to face him. “What did you say?”

“You heard me.” He leaned closer. “Vanilla. Pure. White. Plain. Vanilla.”

My eyes narrowed as I stared at him. “You don’t know what the fuck I am.”

“Oh, yes I do,” he corrected softly. He touched the curve of my face with the back of his hand. “So soft. So sweet. Just a ray of pure fucking sunshine. Isn’t that right?” he asked, throwing Caz’s nickname in my face. “Maybe I should hire Caz Bixby. A gift from me to you. Maybe he can unleash your naughty side, and show your frustration is your own damned fault.”

“Frustration?” I echoed. He nodded, almost like he wanted me to challenge him.

Challenge.

Accepted.

I walked over to his end table and grabbed the remote. I turned on some music, something sexy with a beat. I knew it was playing into his hands, but I was done being the only one frustrated in this fabricated relationship. As soon as the sensual sounds filled the room, I stalked over to where he stood, slowly, like I had been trained to do in various classes I had taken, most notably a pole dancing class Clem had arranged at FFF. It was a six week session right after I got to L.A., where Clem thought this sexy workout would help some of our more timid clientele find their inner tigress. It ended up being one of the most fun workouts I had ever tried.

I was especially grateful for it now as I released the belt on my robe and let it fall to the floor. I continued the strip tease as I circled him just like a pole, brushing up against him, circling him like a snake, unbuttoning my flannel pajama top slowly, as if I were wearing the sexiest outfit on the planet. I slipped out of it and used it to lasso him and bring him closer, rubbing my breasts against him as I gyrated, using all my best hip moves I had learned from belly dancing class.

I cupped his ass. I ran my hands over his body, taking liberties I would have never dreamed I’d ever take with someone like Eli. I had always assumed it would have been a waste of effort. He’d never see me as a sexy woman no matter what I did, right? I had learned a long time ago that men like that were never worth the effort.

Now I had to smile when his hungry stare fell to my chest, which was still covered by a flimsy bra. I was empowered by his appetite. Using the sleeves of my pajama top, I wrapped it around him, securing his arms, making him my hungry, horny little slave boy, who watched with those cloudy, hooded eyes as I stepped back, reached behind for the fasteners of my bra and unhooked it. Keeping in character from our strip tease class, I held it to my chest as I danced, using one finger in between my full lips, a promise what was to come. Finally I rolled my shoulders forward and the bra straps slipped easily down my arms. I pulled it free as I circled him, then snapped it on his ass before tossing it over his shoulder. He was so stunned by my impromptu strip tease that he simply stood there as I brushed up against him, coming back around to stand in front of him. But I could hear how his breath hastened. His eyes darkened the way they always did when he was about to lose control.