Only Skin Deep (4 page)

Chapter One

How
to Seduce Your Man.
Nadja
Mederios
thumbed through the book she’d picked up at the local bookstore. Chapter one
sealed her fate. She possessed none of the social skills necessary for snagging
men—or rather one man in particular,
Donato
Falcone.
He was tall, tanned, broad shouldered, and muscled. A host of ideas came to
mind involving herself and her sexy co-worker in the heat of the night. She
wanted to be the woman gracing the cover of the book in her hands—craved to
feel the intensity the model projected and relish in the savage hunger of the
male holding her. To make it a reality meant she’d have to step out of her
safety net.

What
did she know of romance, of seduction?
Nothing.
Nada.
Zilch.

One
of the book’s suggestions was to mail a man a pair of panties or wake him up
with oral sex.
Nadja
blushed and closed the book.

Looking
back on the path her life had taken amazed her. Singing wasn’t a planned
career. Yet when she’d surfed for a job, she’d fallen right into it, and with
the right look, she made a nice salary. Her dear friend,
Deja
,
helped her find a more sophisticated appearance, and a trip to Craze gave her a
wardrobe she didn’t have to purchase. She’d come a long way since leaving home.

No
longer was she a varsity football player on her high school team. Her family
had wanted a change, and she didn’t blame them. It wasn’t as if she’d ever play
pro football or wanted to. She played her heart out, and even against the odds
she’d proven herself a true athlete, but did that make her any less a true
woman?
Could
she be? The sad fact was
she lacked courage when dealing with the male species, except when it came to
landing in the friend zone.

Her
few failed relationships had left a permanent mark on
her,
convincing her she was sexually inept. One man in particular had defined her as
a waste of time. Marc had no problem reiterating how unhappy her lack of being
a girly female had made him. Callous statements hurt regardless of whether or
not they were made jokingly. Marc had bombarded her with insults and harsh
words. He’d questioned why she couldn’t act like his friends’ wives, who were
normal
women. While the comparisons
hurt, his worst insults were the ones that attacked their sex life—or rather
their lack of one.

Nadja
had begun to feel unattractive around him. Her
self-esteem had taken a beating since Marc, so she’d chosen to shy away from
relationships, effectively avoiding falling into the same sinkhole of
nothingness. Turning around her self-image took work, and she was doing that.

The
jazz tone of her cell pulled her from thoughts of her ex. “Hello?”
Nadja
leaned back on her couch, clutching the phone to her
ear.

“Chica, what ya doin’?”

“Nursing a root beer and reading.”

“Oh, what?”

“How
to Seduce Your Man,”
Nadja
rattled off.

“Yeah,
you skipped a whole book.”

“
Leena
!”

“Well,
you need to get the man first.
Unless you’re studying the
dirty parts.”

Nadja
knew her friend teased to get under her skin. “Think
I should mail
Donato
a pair of my panties?”

“I
think I should come over and
roleplay
some more with
you. Get you up on your game.”

“Sure.
This coming from the girl who waited a year before deciding
to get Jason’s attention?”
She snorted.

“That
just means I have recent experience.”

Nadja
tightened her hand on her cell.
“Yeah,
a whole six months’ worth.”

“So
how are you going to get his attention?”

Nadja
shrugged off the irritation rising rapidly within
her. “Invite him over for a beer and football game?”

“That’s
not sexy.”

“I’m
not a girly girl or someone who drinks frou-frou cocktails. I don’t like malls,
drama flicks or dressing up like I’m in some fashion show. Give me action or
thrillers and sports documentaries. I. Am. Not.
Sexy.”

She
heard a sigh on the other end. “But a guy doesn’t want to sleep with
one of the guys
who just
happens
to be a girl. He wants a woman.”

“I
know, but at least I have all the right parts, so that’s half the battle.”
Nadja
nodded to herself. She knew guys thought about sex
about every four minutes, so the odds were in her favor.

“Where’s
the woman I see on stage performing?”

She
knew
Taleena
meant well, but sometimes, she just
wanted to throttle her. “She’s performing. It’s an act. The sexual being up
there is not the flesh and blood girl. I don’t want to be the sparkle and
pizzazz female. I just want a man to accept me for—well, me.”

“I
have to go. There’s a man glaring at me. Break time is over. I know you’re not
a pinup girl, but just try to tone down the tomboy status. Any man who doesn’t
love you for yourself can piss off. I love you. I just want to see you happy.
Maybe you could drink your beer out of a chilled glass instead of the bottle.”

What a waste of a clean glass.
“Sure I
could. Talk to you later,”
Nadja
said as she hung up
the phone and took her soda off the coaster. The sweaty bottle nearly slipped
out of her hand. Though it was tepid at best, she finished the rest of the
sweet drink and hugged her knees to her chest.

With
two hours to spare,
Nadja
picked up her favorite
magazine, thumbing the dog-eared pages. Fashion remained elusive to her. Her
heels for work had inserts to make them easier to wear. Her friends all boasted
beauty meant sacrifice. The screaming sore muscles in her legs were hard
pressed to agree after a night of standing around.

“The Secret to Making Your Boyfriend Happy.”
One had to
wonder where columnists got the answers. And what made them qualified to ask
the questions in the first place. Not that she needed the advice.
I don’t have a boyfriend.
Why?
Because I’ll never
trust a man enough to lower my guard for a second time.

Giving
the thick fashion and relationship bible one more glance,
Nadja
gave a derisive snort and tossed it in the wastebasket. Inspiration seized her,
and she walked across her sunny living room to her baby grand piano. Her
previous night’s work lay in front of her. The music sheet was filled with
music notes and lyrics. Soon she’d be done with “Let Me Be Me” and ready to
test it out at her job.

She
took in the stark white keys as she warmed up. Wood polish lingered in the air,
tickling her nose. Her reflection smiled at her from gloss-polished mahogany.
Sleek and perfect. Only when she played did she open herself to the fantasy of
having
Donato
caress her with tenderness, stroke her
and bring her to a gradual increase of ecstasy, the ultimate of crescendos. As
her voice grew husky with sorrow, elation and joy, she gave into her love for
song, the perfect string of melody. Out of nowhere the hook called to her and
she belted it out, plotting the chords to memory.

When
she was breathless and her throat constricted, she looked to the clock. Time
had flown right by. She had but a moment or two to pen her new notes on the
contemporary clef sheet.
Grr
. Stupid.
Why do I always do this?
She still had to dash over to
Deja’s
to get her new costume.

Forty
minutes later,
Nadja
emerged from the shower
refreshed and dressed in short shorts and a print tank. She slid into wedge
sandals that wrapped around her ankles and buckled. Making music always took
away the time frame she needed to layer cosmetics on. She gave herself a mental
kick. Since she’d begun singing, no one ever saw her without makeup in public.
The thought of becoming invisible scared her.

Without
the layers of goo covering her face, she felt naked and vulnerable. At least
with the excessive eye shadow, fake eyelashes, and heavy kohl, boring
Nadja
became
Nadja
the
seductress, confident and wanted. But today, circumstance forced her to settle
for a quick application of eyebrow liner and clear gloss.

Settled
in her car, she finally took off at top speed to get to
Deja’s
,
barely breaking at stop signs until she hit the highway. The short drive taxed
the rest of her patience. Road construction and detours backed up the roads,
making her take a longer route to her destination. She thrummed her fingers to
the music playing and blasted the a/c. When she turned into the parking lot,
she slid into the first available slot, slammed her car into park, yanked up
the emergency brake and exited her vehicle. She clicked on her alarm before
tossing her keys into her shoulder bag.

The
late afternoon sun beamed down on her with its stifling warmth. Pressing
forward she entered Craze. Immediately, cool air soothed her overheated skin.
“Hey Barbie,
Deja
around?”

Nadja
breathed in the subtle smell of incense and smiled at
the rocker with her newly bright red streaked hair. “
Heya
,
Nadja
!” Barbie leaned over the counter, pressing
price tags into merchandise with her tagging gun. “
Deja’s
in the back.”

“The
new scent is nice,”
Nadja
commented as she walked
over to the girl and went through the pile of skimpy costumes.

“Tahitian
Nights—the image of a sheik meeting an American girl popped into my brain, and
I played with the oils until I found a nice scent.”

“That’s
funny. I’m surprised
Deja
let you experiment in here
again after the incident with the sexual massage oils.” The adult section
always called to her, but she couldn’t imagine wearing anything like that for
anyone.

“I
did it with those perfume cards and did a poll. I have another called Satin
Sex, but
Taleena
wants it for a perfume. Oh, and I
saw your new formal wear, it’s gorgeous. Better not keep
Deja
waiting. She’s a bit jumpy this week,
sooo
not like her at all. She’s been touchy since she came
back from her buying trip.”

Nadja
laughed. “
Taleena’s
a trip.
Thanks for the heads up on D.”

Light
peeked through the double doors left ajar in the back of the shop. She squeezed
through the clothes racks and walked down the main aisle.
“
Deja
.”
Raising her hand, she knocked on the door.

“Come
on in.”
Deja
looked up and beckoned with her hand.

“I
got a message that you have some new choices of apparel for me.”

“I
do. You look different today.”
Deja
put her pen
behind her ear and went to retrieve three garment bags.

“I
didn’t have time to plaster the goo on.”

“Fresh and clean.
You have too pretty a face to weigh it
down with cosmetics.” She unzipped bag one and pulled out a short white dress
that flared at the knees. “What do you think?”

“It’s
nice, but I’m not really a show-my-knees type.” The dress looked lovely, but on
her, she feared it would show too much.

“Hmm.”
Deja
slid it back into the
bag and moved on to bag number two. “I brought two of these.” She removed a
burgundy dress with zippers for shoulder straps. “I have it in royal blue too.”

“I
like the red wine color more than the blue. The dress is gorgeous. I’ll take
it.”

“Great.
I’ve been thinking you could model the formal wear for me. I’m working on
acquiring two more stores. This place houses my only mixture of costumes, show
ware and accessories. If I purchase the other two, I’ll want to branch out to
formal and bridal ware. I’ll need catalog models and print ad models. I prefer
the natural, clean look, and I want you. I’ll keep you posted on progress.”

Nadja
zipped up the bag. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Just
think about it. You have a striking face and you’re modest. Lord knows why you
haven’t moved to some bigger town to get noticed for your voice.”
Deja
put the garments back on the hanging rack.

“I
like being a Belton, Missouri girl. Large cities freak me out—” Loud pinging
drowned out the rest of her reply, making her ears ring. “What’s that annoying
noise?”

“Sorry,
it’s nothing. Just someone who doesn’t get I’m not interested.”
Deja
huffed and clicked on her computer.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, met a guy while on my last trip.
Don’t get me wrong,
Derek’s handsome, but I’ve never dated outside my race before.”

Nadja
draped her bag over her arm and sat down.
“Dish.”

“He
tried to steal my cab. One thing led to another. The next night we had a drink
in the lounge and then two, and so on and ended up…well, you know how the story
goes.” The pinging didn’t stop.

“So?”

“The
one night stand turned into a week of mind-blowing sex after the shows.”

“And?”

“What
we did terrifies me. Though not as much as how he made me feel. I haven’t been
the same since I met him. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Let’s face
it,
I’m not the have-a-fling type.”
Deja
sighed and looked over at the computer. “I’m a controlled woman who has her
eyes on the prize. I don’t have time for playing. I have a future to plan and
goals to finish, and the last thing I need is to have my mind cluttered with
thoughts of a man.”