Read July (Calendar Girl #7) Online

Authors: Audrey Carlan

July (Calendar Girl #7) (8 page)

BOOK: July (Calendar Girl #7)
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The base of the music hit harder, I closed my eyes and went for it, arching my back, allowing Anton to grind into my behind as I laid my hand on the back of his neck. The aroma of coconut drifted around me in a cocoon of fun in the sun. Hips hit, hands gripped, and Anton spun me around, then did a body roll from my thighs up past my pelvis to my belly where he arched back. I mimicked it, pushing my body hard. He fell back to the ground, the same as the dancers did as if I’d knocked him out with my body. Then he was up on his knees pumping his hips up towards me in a graphic display of his manhood.

“Ride it baby, ride… **thrust**

“With me, I’ll go all night…”

“Let me do you right…” **thrust**

“And ride it baby, ride…”

The music matched our movements perfectly. Towards the end of the song, Anton did some crazy, urban ninja-style run-and-leap off the mirrors of the studio, landing on his feet where he tugged my waist, got to his knee and draped me over it. My back arched almost painfully over his knee, and he laid a hard, smacking kiss on my mouth.

And that’s when it happened…again.

I got a nice fist to his mouth, cutting open his lip before he restrains my hands with one of his, then gropes my body with the other. Wild drops of crimson trail down his chin, his teeth turning a sickening, vile red. Aaron crushes me against the concrete wall. A piercing pain grates along the tender skin of my back as the coarse surface abrades my skin raw. His lower half presses harder, over and over while he dry-humps me, his erection like a steel pipe digging into my sex.

I start to scream, but he puts his mouth over mine so fast that nothing but a garbled sound escapes. I’m screaming bloody murder when I hear the sickening jingle of his belt being unbuckled and the noise of the zipper opening, each tooth unlocking as if in slow motion. Aaron retaliates by biting down on my lips and slamming my head against the concrete. I see stars and rainbows across my vision, and things are now hazy. He yanks on the hem of my dress, pulling it tight as he slides it up to my waist. The cool air slithers across my bare flesh. More swirls of distorted light still splinter across my vision. I blink several times, trying to stay conscious. Aaron’s fingers slide down my stomach reaching his target and he cups my sex roughly, pressing into the soft tissue. I hear myself whimper as bile rises up into my throat, the intense burn gagging me so bad I want to vomit.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard, take you like the whore you are. Fucking white trash,” he roars, spittle splattering against my face. This is the man who’d touched me while I slept, and when confronted, showed no remorse. Aaron Shipley, Senator for California, is about to rape me. Right here, out in public with a giant party going on not more than two hundred feet away.

I feel the head of his cock where he presses it against my legs as he grinds it along my thigh. I whisper, “No,” and shake my head only to receive a gut-twisting grin in reply. He puts a hand over my mouth muffling the sound of my scream. I bite down on the flesh of his hand, salt and the coppery taste of blood fill my mouth. He curses and smashes my head into the wall again. I can’t hold myself up and slump against the surface. my body feeling almost weightless, and as the darkness takes me, I am sure he is going to rape me.

 

“Get your fucking hands off me!” I screamed loud enough to tear the house down.

“Mia, no, no!
Lo siento. Lo siento
. I’m sorry.
Lucita
, come back. Shit!” Anton cradled my head as I came around. My stomach rolled and churned. Staggering to my feet, I ran over to the nearest trash can and hurled my lunch. Maria stood over me, holding my hair back, whispering calming soothing things into my ear.

When I’d finished, a towel and a bottle of water were thrust into my hand. I gulped the refreshing liquid, but it went down as if I was swallowing razor blades, until all the bile washed back down.

Maria’s eyes were hard, now dark, and cold. She took my hand and brought me to a small room off the side of dance studio.

“Who’s hurting you? I know people. Very very rich people who will not stand for a good woman being hurt by a scumbag.”

I shook my head. “Maria, no, it’s not what it looks like.”

Her hands flew to her hips and she cocked her head to the side, black tendrils escaping her ponytail. “Really? Because it seems to me that someone hurt you, bad enough that you are having flashbacks. Not to mention the fact that you freeze every time one of the male dancers or Anton touch you. So tell me, is that not true? Am I imagining this shit? I know exactly what a battered woman looks like,
hermosa
because I was one. For many years. Not okay with allowing that shit to happen to good women and neither are my friends. Hell, Anton wouldn’t stand for it.”

Pushing my hair back, I took a deep breath and looked at her. “Anton knows. There’s nothing any of you can do about it. It’s been handled.” I lied. Technically it had been handled so that wasn’t a lie. The way I was dealing with the end result, on the other hand, had not been handled.

“I need more, Mia, because right now, I’m flaming mad. As in
muy caliente
and not in a good way. I want blood. So speak. Even if it hurts, even if you cry, want to hit something. You have to get it out. You cannot let this stay bottled in. Believe me, I’ve been through it and come out on the other side stronger and smarter.” Her statement was almost a speech—no, a benediction. Something she believed one hundred percent. Something that was private, part of her very soul, and she was strong enough to share it with me.

“My last client had a son that attacked me, sexually and physically. I was in the hospital for a few days.” Her eyes widened and blazed like a thousand fires set in a forest of dead trees. “I’m getting past it, but I’m having a little trouble with being touched. It’s weird. I don’t get it.”

Maria came over to me and sat down on the desk in the center of the room where I leaned. “It’s not weird. Once your trust has been broken by the opposite sex, it can be hard to get it back. Does Anton know?” I nodded. “Then he shouldn’t have kissed you or held you that way.”

I let out a frustrated breath. “Anton and I have been working on it. The dancing has been okay, even when he holds on to me, but the second he bent me over him in that way and kissed me, I-I went back there. To that night.”

She nodded and put her arm around me. “For one, Anton shouldn’t have done what he did.” I tried to interrupt her but she held up her hand. “No, he knew your issue, and then threw you over his body in a way that put you in a vulnerable sexual position. That wasn’t smart. I’ll talk to him about his improvisation. That little scene was not part of the choreography. As a matter of fact, that
cabron
isn’t supposed to have gotten the seductress. The whole point is she’s off limits!” Her indignation was high. Her perfectly sculpted, black eyebrows narrowed, and her pretty mouth moved into a pout.

“He probably just got lost in the moment,” I offered with a small smile.

She squinted. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll deal with handsy.” Once more, she squeezed my shoulder. “You will be okay. It’s going to take time. You should probably find a professional to talk to about it. I will say, telling me, Anton, and others who care for you will help.”

That made me think of Ginelle. I needed to talk to her about it. Really talk to her about it, not sweep it under the rug and pretend it was nothing. I needed to lay it out so that I had her to bounce things off of. She’d be angry. More than angry. Downright homicidal, but she’d listen, let me vent, help me get past it. That’s what I’d do. Later this evening I’d give her a call and hash it out.

“Now, we have this scene down. You’re off tomorrow. Why don’t you go to your apartment. Do you want to do dinner tonight?”

I shook my head. “Sorry, Maria. I’m beat. I’d like to take a bath, make a PB & J, and veg out in front of the TV before passing out. Do you have any idea how hard you worked us? And physically, I didn’t have a crazy involved part like the other guys!”

Her eyes gleamed, the previous ire cooling, bringing back her normal silver-blue eyes that I swear you could stare at for days and never tire of.

“Hard work is good for you. Makes you appreciate the end product more.”

We stood and she led me back to the room.

Anton had been pacing the floor, almost wearing a hole in it. “
Lucita
!” His shoulders slumped. “I got caught up.
Lo siento.
Please, forgive me.” He looked immensely sad, heartbroken, as if he’d done something horribly wrong. He didn’t. Sure he might have lost sight for a moment, but his response to the mood of the room and the way the routine was going perfectly was natural. If I weren’t so screwed up, it would have been fun, well received even.

“Anton, seriously, it’s fine.” I walked over to him and opened my arms. He walked into them and stood there letting me hug him. When his hands weren’t clasping me, it was easy to be near him. Comfortable. “You can hug me.”

He lifted his arms and pulled me into his chest harder. The niggling fear and anxiety started up, but I pushed it down. Anton was a good man with a huge heart. He made a mistake that wouldn’t have even been a mistake if I hadn’t been the victim of an assault. “I’m sorry, Mia. It won’t happen again,” he whispered in my ear and released me.

Maria clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention. “That’s all for today folks. Go on home. Tomorrow you get a day off and then it’s back to a couple of days for rehearsal where we’ll perfect the routines. Then we tape!” The ten dancers hooted and hollered, smacking high fives to one another, doing the man-hug thing.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” Anton asked as Heather entered the room. She noticed our position and frowned. I tried to smile at her as she approached.

She stopped about four feet from us, crossed her arms over her chest, and pursed her lips. “Word is you want to talk to me?”

Anton bristled. “Chilly reception,” he murmured and I laughed, hugged him once more, and pulled away.

“You getting food?” Heather asked.

I shook my head. “Nope, eating in tonight. Need to rest and take a hot bath to
soak these muscles
!” I spoke loud enough for Maria to hear. She did a tit lift and a head tilt while laughing, obviously proud of herself. Damn, the bitch was cool. Everything from her sumptuous body to her dancing ability, her beauty, she was all that and a bag of chips. I wondered if she had a guy. Alec would rock her world. Hell, Alec had rocked my world and often.

No more Alec.

I sighed and moved to Heather, hugged her close and whispered, “Go easy on him. He may be clueless, but he loves you like a sister. Give him the benefit of the doubt okay?” I pushed back and held her at arm’s length. Her blue eyes filled with unshed tears and she nodded. “Okay, go get ‘em tiger,” I said and smacked her ass hard as I passed.

“Ouch! Bitch!” she yelled, though the enthusiasm in her tone proved she wasn’t mad.

I flicked a hand behind my back giving her the finger. “Sit on it and spin!”

Behind me, I could hear her say to Anton. “Can you believe her?”

Anton laughed then a muffled
oompf
filled my ears. I turned around to see Anton squeezing the life out of Heather. “Don’t leave me, H. I need you.”

“You don’t need me.”

“Bullshit! You take care of me.”

I waited to see how she’d respond. “Yeah, you know what, I do. Time for you to realize that and make something of it or I’m walking.”

“You walk and I’ll run after you. No other band is getting my manager,” he roared.

“Manager?” The word came out broken and gritty, almost as if it hurt to say it.

“That’s right. People want me to play their venues? They go through my manager. They want me to pimp their product? They go through my manager. They want me doing awards shows? They go through my manager. And that,
chica,
is you. From here on out, Heather Renee is the Latin Lov-ah’s Manager.”

She paced in front of him. “So, that means I get a raise?”

He nodded. “Big fucking raise, H. How’s about fifteen percent on every gig.”

A sharp whistle left Maria’s lips.

“Seriously?”

“You bring me the jobs, you get paid. I looked into it H. That’s more than fair, plus we pay your expenses out of our business account when we travel. Your name will appear on the albums, the whole enchilada. So”—he held his hand out—“do we have a deal or what?”

Heather’s eyes were wide; her mouth opened and closed like she couldn’t catch her breath. “But…but…but, that’s so much.”

It was a rhetorical statement but Anton answered anyway. “No, it’s what’s going to happen for me to keep my talent. Now, you gonna keep me hanging, or are we going to do this?”

Heather held out her hand. It trembled as she clasped Anton’s. Without hesitation he pulled her into his arms in what I knew was a bone-crushing hug. I’d been on the other side of those arms when he was worried or frightened. “Never doubt my love for you. H, you are the most talented woman I know. You keep me going. Having my sister, my
hermana
, my
mejor amiga
making sure I’m taken care of, getting us the best contracts, that’s my dream come true. I’m sorry I didn’t do it earlier.”

She sniffed into his neck, tears rolling down her cheeks. I hugged myself not able to give them privacy. It was too beautiful to witness.

“H, we’re going to have to hire us a new PA. You’re going to be too busy to be dealing with our day-to-day necessities. Oooh, hire a sexy little Latina?” His eyes twinkled, and a sexy grin slipped across his lips.

She shook her head. “Oh, hell no. You’ll be banging her in five seconds. I’m hiring a gay man! End of. Nothing to distract either one of us.”

Anton shrugged. “Party pooper.” He swung her around and set her on her feet. “Now can you call that
bastardo
that’s trying to steal you from me and tell him you’re off the market, that you’ve been promoted and to fuck way off. If I see that slimy
hijo de puta
I’m not going to be kind. He tried to take my girl away from me.”

BOOK: July (Calendar Girl #7)
13.21Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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