Ricochet (16 page)

hitting on him instead?

"Maybe." Matt shrugged. "To be honest, I

don't believe in all that romantic crap. I love it in

the movies but in real life the best you can hope for

is to find someone you're reasonably compatible

with who doesn't drive you nuts."

"Well, maybe - or maybe you have to be open

to the possibility of it happening. You're not likely

to have a big, romantic love affair if you're too

sensible to believe they even exist."

Matt glanced up sharply to find himself

looking into Karl's shrewd, dark eyes. No, Karl

wasn't hitting on him - he was just a very

perceptive dom who knew how to read a sub.

Maybe there was some hope for him with Daniel

after all.

Rick trudged to the make-up trailer, yawning:

yet another early start without waking up with a

sub in his bed, or a sweet ass to spank. After

nearly three weeks of this he felt like he was

walking through mud. Petra was watching his

every move at work, and the paparazzi were

watching his every move the minute he left the

studio.

He felt stifled, listless and bored, and he

woke up every morning with a headache that left

him foggy for the rest of the day.

"Sheesh." Estelle was in the trailer having her

make-up applied when he walked in. "Looks like

someone had a bad night."

"Bad night, bad week, bad fucking life," he

snapped, thumping himself down in the seat next to

hers and sprawling there, gazing at himself

moodily in the mirror.

"Well, there's only one cure!" Estelle gave a

throaty chuckle that sounded completely obscene,

as only she could.

"Kill myself?"

"Hell no, sweetheart! That's just admitting

defeat! No, what you need is to find a nice sub and

fuck their brains out." She gave a ribald laugh and

leaned towards him. "If I was thirty years younger,

I'd let you tie me to the bed and have your way

with me."

"Oh, I agree with the cure, Estelle, but how

the hell can I find a sub to oblige when I'm under

Petra's house arrest?"

"Oh please!" Estelle waved a hand in the air.

"One does not have to go to clubs to meet beautiful

sexual partners. I met my best lovers on various

film sets over the years."

"I don't think that really works for me here,"

Rick said. "I mean, Daniel's great but you know,

no. And the twins are cute, but they're looking for

twin doms and some gigantic big love affair so that

rules me out on both counts."

"What about Matthew?" Estelle asked.

Rick laughed. "Matt? No! He's my best

friend."

"And why would that make him an unsuitable

lover?" Estelle raised an eyebrow. "My fourth

spouse, Erica, was my best friend, and we had a

very happy marriage until she died. I'd almost

given up on finding anyone who could handle me,

but she tamed me. No other dom has measured up

since," she said sadly. "I shouldn't really have

married spouses five and six. But Erica… what

that woman didn't know about Japanese rope

bondage wasn't worth knowing." Estelle gave a

happy sigh. "Amazing knots, tied in the most

deliciously arousing places." Rick stared at her.

"Sorry - I got carried away." Estelle winked. "So,

if it worked for me and my best friend, why not for

you and yours?"

"Because I'm me," Rick said flatly. "And I've

got no intention of fucking Matt up with a bunch of

romantic promises I'll break."

"Why would you break them?"

"Because I will." Rick shrugged. "Anyway,

Matt's too sensible to think of me that way."

"Ah yes. Matt's the most sensible kid I've

ever met; such an old head on young shoulders. I

swear the boy's never had any fun in his life."

Estelle shook her head sadly. "But surely you must

have a little black book with the numbers of your

old conquests in it, Rick? When I was a young sub,

newly arrived in this town, I couldn't move for

suitors. Had about five little black books, with

some very famous names in them." She winked at

him and tapped the side of her nose knowingly.

"Those were the days! I fucked hundreds of

beautiful doms and don't regret a second of it.

Nowadays, you probably keep all that in an e-

phone or whatever it is young folks use to keep

track of their beaus. Why don't you call up a few

exes and see if you can arrange a reprise of your

good times together, huh?"

"I don't do reruns," Rick said automatically.

“Maybe not, but you're in a pickle right now,

my darling, and you might have to change your

ways a little - yes?" She got up, deposited a little

kiss on the side of his head, and then left the

trailer.

She did have a point. Rick took out his cell

phone and flicked through it. He didn't usually take

subs' numbers but some had stolen his phone when

he was asleep and put themselves into his address

book anyway, anxious to snare a TV star. One

more night with someone he hardly remembered

from first time around wouldn't put much of a dent

in his no reruns rule, so he called one of the

numbers. A sub called Sherry, who he vaguely

remembered as having been a real firecracker in

bed, answered.

"Hey, Sherry. It's Rick - Rick O'Shea," he

said in his sexiest voice. "It's your lucky day. The

handcuffs are ready and there's a play collar with

your name on it hanging from my finger right now.

All you have to do is say the word."

There was a shocked pause, and he grinned to

himself, imagining her surprise at getting his call.

"Really? You fuck my brains out, promise

you'll call, and then I hear nothing from you for six

months, and you think you can just call me, and I'll

drop everything and come running? I don't think so,

buddy."

The call was disconnected abruptly. So, that

hadn't gone as well as he'd hoped. He tried another

number, and a man's voice answered.

"Oh hi, I'm flattered, Rick, but you shouldn't

have left it so long! I found myself a lovely dom,

and she collared me last month. She's so lovely."

The man sighed happily down the phone, and Rick

made polite noises and ended the call.

On the third call, a grumpy sounding female

voice answered.

"Hey, Marlene," Rick said, immediately

going into his patter. "It's Rick O'Shea. Remember

that night you spent in heaven in my arms? Well,

we could do it all over again."

"No, we fucking couldn't, asshole," the voice

replied. "Marlene is my sub now, and I don't care

who you are - don't fucking call this number

again."

"Not going so well, huh?" a pretty make-up

boy asked, coming over to get Rick ready for his

first scene.

"You could say that." Rick glared at his

phone.

"So, we're giving you a bloody nose!" the kid

said brightly.

Rick winced. "I think I've already been given

one."

"Aw, c'mon - it's not that bad." The young

man smiled at him, and Rick remembered what

Estelle had said about finding someone at work

and took a proper look at him. He was probably in

his early twenties, nice looking, with a very

spankable ass. He wasn't wearing a collar, and he

gave off a distinctly subby vibe.

Rick flashed him a broad smile. "So… you're

new here, aren't you? What's your name,

sweetheart?" he purred.

The boy laughed. "My name's Tim, but don't

even think about it, Rick. I've heard all about you,

and I prefer long-term relationships to one-night

stands, however good that 'night in heaven' might

be." He grinned. "I mean, it's still only one night,

right? I think I'm worth more than that."

Rick gave a little grunt. "Yeah, you are,

honey. You stick with that attitude, and you won't

end up alone and grumpy like me."

Tim patted his shoulder sympathetically, and

Rick sighed; it seemed like the entire world was

against him right now. Tim began applying his

bloody nose, and Rick picked up a magazine that

someone had left lying around and glanced at it.

Torn between two doms!
the headline

proclaimed, over a picture of Matt and Karl

talking intently, their heads close together. Karl

was holding a plate of cake in one hand, his fork

raised as if he was about to feed it to Matt. Rick

recognized the picture from Karl's recent birthday

party, and he knew nothing happened between Matt

and Karl then, but the intimacy of the photo

implied that they were sharing a plate and for some

reason that annoyed the hell out of him.

Couples only shared a plate when they were

in a serious relationship. It was a courtship ritual

and not one that Rick had ever had any interest in

before. The idea of hand-feeding a sub wasn't

something he'd ever expected to do, or had any

wish to do, so why did the idea of Karl hand-

feeding Matt bother him so much? Especially when

he knew it hadn't actually happened.

Next to it was a picture of Matt and himself,

taken outside his house a few weeks ago. They

were both sitting on the Harley, with Matt nestled

between his arms. It looked equally cozy, giving

every appearance that he and Matt were an item.

No wonder the magazine's readers believed the

crap that was made up about them.

Between the two pictures was the image of a

tear down the middle, separating them, tying into

the
Torn between two doms!
headline.

Rick flicked through the magazine to find the

article.

Is Matthew Lake the luckiest sub alive? The

Collar Crime
cutie has two of the hottest doms in

town begging him to wear their collar. Who

should he choose? Super sexy and smooth Brit

Karl Morgan - or rough, ready and randy Rick

O'Shea? We asked our online readers to decide!

"Rough, ready and randy?" Rick rolled his

eyes, feeling irrationally annoyed. He knew it was

all garbage, yet it rankled all the same. He scanned

the selection of reader comments irritably.

I think he should go for Karl,
one gushed.

That gorgeous British accent makes me go weak

at the knees! Karl Morgan can tie me to the bed

any time!

Definitely Karl,
another one said.
Because,

let's face it, Rick is damaged goods. Every sub in

town has slept with him!

"Damaged goods?" Rick threw the magazine

down and shoved his chair back. "That'll do, Tim.

It looks great." He glanced at himself in the mirror

to see that he now had a convincing black eye and

fake blood stuck to his nose and jaw.

Damaged goods sounded just about right.

Matt stood on the command center set,

nervously going over his lines in his head. This

was a big scene, with every cast member present,

and they had some complicated choreography to do

as they searched for a bomb inside the collar crime

HQ.

Rick was last on set, and he stomped over to

the red tape on the floor, which marked his spot.

"Nice black eye," Daniel said, but Rick just

gave a preoccupied grunt in reply.

Matt exchanged an anxious glance with the

twins; Rick wasn't a lot of fun these days, and they

all missed the energy and humor he used to bring to

their long working days.

They ran through the scene, and Rick knew

his lines back to front, as he had every day for the

past three weeks. In fact, he was the model actor in

every respect - never late and never unprepared

for his scenes. Theoretically, this should have

made working with him a pleasure but it wasn't.

Matt was far more tense when filming now; Rick

used to relax him by teasing him before a big

scene, which distracted him far more successfully

than his usual method of counting. Now Rick was

on his best behavior the teasing had stopped.

They began filming and had almost finished

the take when Estelle screwed up her lines.