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Authors: Jami Alden,Valerie Martinez,Sunny

Tags: #Fiction, #Erotica, #General

Skin on Skin (2 page)

BOOK: Skin on Skin
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Typical Tony—he couldn’t resist the opportunity to needle her. “I don’t know where she’d get that idea. You’re so girly and feminine in your denim and flannel.” He choked on a laugh as Lauren launched herself on top of him and tried to pin him to the couch. She shrieked as he rolled over and knocked her to the floor.

She made a pretty good show of trying to get away while her struggles afforded her the perfect opportunity to rub against Tony like a cat in heat. She even got a full-second ass grab in there under the guise of trying to roll him over.

Sad, yes, but a girl had to get her thrills where she could find them.

And despite her masculine profession and affinity for flannel, she was emphatically heterosexual. She pushed Tony off her and climbed back onto the couch. Not that she could blame her mother for her suspicions. Her mother—well she had her own ideas about sexuality, namely, that if you were young and healthy you should be doing it as often as possible. Carly MacLean couldn’t imagine a world in which a willing woman wasn’t getting laid, and often. So if there wasn’t a man in her youngest child’s life, there must be a woman.

“I could give you a mullet and complete the image, if you want.” Karen, a hairdresser, giggled and ducked when Lauren pegged her with a pretzel twist.

“Shut up, it’s not funny,” Lauren said, laughing. “You don’t understand. My mom is obsessed with my sex life, or lack thereof,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “And now she’s telling everyone I’m a lesbian.”

“Why do you care, anyway?” Mike asked around a mouthful of pretzels, “It’s not like the gossip will reach here.”

Lauren sighed. “My parents are having a thirtieth wedding anniversary in two weeks, with a big reception, renewal of vows, the whole thing. My mom keeps pestering me to bring a date, and now that she’s got this idea in her head, no doubt she’ll invite some prospects.” She sat back and covered her face with her hands. “She even asked me if I go for the more butch or the more lipstick types.”

“Oh, lipstick, definitely. And I want to watch,” Tony said.

Lauren was about to punch him again, but something in his eyes stopped her. A heated glint lurked behind his amusement. Even teasing her, Tony oozed sexual heat. It was in the tone of his voice, the deep richness of his eyes, the way he moved with lazy athletic grace.

She couldn’t believe it. The perfect solution sat next to her on the couch. “Tony, I need you to do me a huge favor. Be my boyfriend.”

Tony inhaled a tortilla chip and started hacking.

Not so sexy now, she thought. “Not for real, dummy. Just come to my parent’s party with me and pretend. You’re perfect.”

“Perfect, how?” Tony wheezed as Mike thumped him on the back.

She scrambled to find the right words. She couldn’t exactly tell him that he was sex personified. His ego really didn’t need any more stroking. “Ummm, you just have that look,” she said evasively.

“What look?” He looked at Mike and Karen for help.

Karen rolled her eyes. “The look of a guy who’s fucked half the women in California and left them all smiling, despite the fact that you never call them again.” she said and promptly went back to her book.

“Yeah, that look,” Lauren said.

“Huh.” Tony’s expression said he wondered if maybe he’d been insulted.

“Look,” Lauren said reassuringly, “You know how you are. You’re a player—a successful one, and it shows. You’re not the kind of guy to be in a sexless relationship with a woman—”

“I’m in a sexless relationship with you,” Tony broke in.

Lauren rolled her eyes. She wouldn’t even dignify that with a response, seeing no reason to remind him that he didn’t exactly see her as a woman. “If you show up with me, my mom will forget her concerns about whether or not I’m getting laid. And I won’t have to spend the weekend politely turning down offers from other women.” She pulled the best pleading puppy-dog face she could muster and opened her eyes wide. “Please, Tony. Pretend you’re attracted to me for just one weekend?”

2

P
retend to be attracted to her.
Lauren’s request rang through Tony’s head two weeks later as he threw a sport coat and slacks into his garment bag.

This was going to be torture. A weekend spent playing Lauren MacLean’s oh-so-attentive boyfriend. He would have to touch her, kiss her, all in the name of convincing her family that they were enjoying hot and sweaty headboard-pounding sex.

He just had to make it through the weekend without letting it happen for real.

His blood hummed with anticipation as he pulled up in front of Lauren’s house. They’d decided his suburban would be much more comfortable than her Jeep for the eight-hour plus drive to Newport Beach. He wondered what Lauren’s parents would be like. He’d always got the impression that she was fairly close to them, but she’d never talked about them in detail.

In any case, he found it a little weird for a mother to be so concerned about her daughter’s sex life, especially since, in his experience, from the time he hit fifteen, most mothers had been trying to keep their daughters away from him.

Lauren flung open the door before he could knock, and stood there looking hotter than Tony had ever dreamed. She wore a bright green V-neck blouse that emphasized her smooth, toned shoulders and deep cleavage. Her jeans were low-slung and tight, lovingly cupping her ass in a way that made him want to lean down and take a healthy bite.

“What?” she said sharply.

Tony tore his eyes from the visual feast of tits and ass and focused on her face. Damn, she actually had on makeup! He thought she’d worn lipstick to his brother Nick’s wedding, but it was so close to her natural lip shade that she might as well not have bothered. But today she had on just the right amount to emphasize the strong bones of her cheekbones and jaw and make her eyes seem huge. He knew he was staring, but he couldn’t seem to stop. “You look…different.”

Her brows knit over the bridge of her nose and she crossed her arms tightly over her chest.

Smooth, Donovan. At least she wouldn’t think he was trying to talk her pants off.

“I look stupid, don’t I?” she snapped.

“No, honestly you look amazing.”

“Really?” She wanted to believe him, he could tell.

“Yeah. Trust me, you clean up really well.”

Lauren turned and walked back into the house. “Karen picked everything out for me. She said I couldn’t pull this off if I showed up dressed like a lumberjack.”

As she reached for her suitcase he took the opportunity to study her. “I’d say Karen did a good job. Did she do your hair?” Her usual ringlets had been tamed into thick curls that bounced softly around her shoulder blades.

“Yeah,” she said, eyes lighting up as she stood and turned toward him. “She gave me this great stuff to put in so it doesn’t frizz out. And it doesn’t make it sticky, just really soft. Here, feel.” She leaned her head closer.

He reached out and combed his fingers through the silky strands. As he did, the fresh citrusy fragrance wafted around him, sending a jolt of lust straight to his crotch. She licked her lips nervously and he wanted to nibble on the plump, glossy curves.

“Isn’t it soft?” she asked nervously.

“Yeah, soft,” he repeated, though he felt anything but.

She cleared her throat and stepped out of reach. “We better get going, long drive and all that.”

He picked up her wheelie back and she tried to grab it from him. “I can carry it.”

“I know you can, but if I’m supposed to be your boyfriend, you have to let me do stuff like carry your suitcase for you.”

Lauren chuckled. “Ooh, chivalry. Be careful or I might start making you carry my toolbox.”

“Oh, I’m carrying a tool for you, baby,” he said with an exaggerated leer.

“I don’t have my needle-nose pliers on me,” she laughed. She locked up and walked out to his car while he tried not to stare at her ass. Damn, he just knew that image was going to taunt him for the next eight hours on the road.

 

Lauren sang along softly to the Foo Fighters playing on Tony’s state-of-the-art sound system. That was something she loved about being with Tony—the fact that they could sit around in comfortable silence and just hang. She studied him from under her lashes, admiring the way the muscles of his forearms shifted and tensed as he drove. He steered with one hand hooked over the wheel, his other arm resting between them on the bench seat.

He reached out and patted her knee. “How are you doing over there? Need to stop for anything?”

She resisted the urge to push his hand higher up her thigh. When she’d first met Tony, his constant touching had made her uncomfortable. She wasn’t particularly physically demonstrative, and it took a while to get used to Tony’s habitual invasion of her personal space. But she’d realized quickly that he meant nothing by it, that he was just a warm, touchy-feely person.

Pretty soon she came to enjoy how he would sling an arm around her shoulders or give her an encouraging squeeze after a hard day. It wasn’t his fault that his friendly touches had her hormones screaming for more.

“No, I’m fine,” she smiled.

“So tell me about your family. You don’t talk about them much.”

“I told you, my dad’s a director for television, and my brother does the same thing in New York.”

“What about your mom? You’ve never talked about her before, so I thought she might be out of the picture.”

She clenched her jaw and wove her fingers nervously. “My mom used to be an actress, before my brother and I were born.”

“Really? Was she famous at all?”

She sighed. The moment of truth had come. She hoped Tony wouldn’t get all weird and freaked out like every other guy. “
You
might know who she is.”

Tony glanced at her curiously.

“Did you ever see that movie
The Rose Chamber?”

Tony’s brow furrowed. “Isn’t that a p—”

“Adult film, yes,” Lauren said. “My mother is Carlotta Banks. Or, Carly MacLean, as she’s known now.”

Tony’s gorgeous brown eyes almost popped out of his head. “Your mother is—”

“A porn legend. She and my father met when he directed one of her films. Nowadays he does commercials and Lifetime movies of the week, but that’s how he got his start.”

Tony shook his head, stunned. “That movie was a classic. Right up there with
Behind the Green Door,
and
Deep Throat.
” His eyebrows raised and he got a wild look in his eyes. “And your mom—” he broke off, frowned. “That was
your
mom? That was your
mom!”

Damn. He was going to get weird on her, just like every other guy she ever brought home. Oh well, at least this thing wasn’t for real. She hoped Tony could still power through it. “Yeah, I know, I look nothing like her, I act nothing like her, and I am anything but a firecracker in the sack.”

Tony’s eyes left the road momentarily to study her. “I don’t remember what her face looks like, but I think you might have her rack.”

Shocked laughter erupted from her throat. Only Tony could say that to her without getting his ass kicked.

“And as far as the other…” his voice got deep and rich, the one that made her think of chocolate-dipped body parts. “I bet if a guy knew what he was doing, you’d show him a damn good time.”

She barely had time to absorb that remark when he said, his tone more serious, “That must have been a heavy load of baggage growing up.”

For all that he loved to needle people, Tony knew when it was time to stop teasing, and he often surprised her with his sensitivity. The same insight he used to mercilessly bust her chops allowed him to see what no other man in her experience had. “Yeah, being the daughter of a porn queen can leave you pretty confused about the whole sex thing.”

Tony snorted at her understatement. “How old were you when you found out?”

“Thirteen. One of the kids at school found a tape in his parent’s room and couldn’t wait to tell the rest of the class that Mrs. MacLean was in a ‘naked movie’ and doing all sorts of crazy stuff. I told my mom, expecting her to deny it, but she got this look on her face and I knew it was true.”

“How did she explain it?”

“Back when she was working, in the seventies, she considered what she and Dad were doing art. They were helping to free American culture from our puritanical hang-ups about sex.” She sighed and looked out the window as they flew past the farms of the central valley. “Unfortunately, the kids in my school didn’t really see the artistic value.” No, instead they expected her to be the same. So she’d started wearing baggy clothes and acting tough enough that boys finally forgot she was a girl. Even when she’d gone to college and no one knew who her mother was, she’d continued to downplay her femininity. “I hope this doesn’t freak you out too much,” she said finally.

Tony smiled, his eyes so dark and warm she almost leaned over to rest her head in his lap. “Don’t worry about it.”

Relief coursed through her. “Thank God. I figured if anyone could handle this situation, it would be you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just that you have a casual attitude about sex, and don’t seem to have any issues changing partners like you change your underwear,” she stammered, surprised at his defensive tone. Had she inadvertently offended him?

“You know, I’m not the male slut you seem to think I am,” he said hotly.

“I didn’t mean to imply that you were.” She was silent a minute, smarting at his unnecessarily sharp tone. “But you’re not exactly known for being discriminating.”

“At least I don’t spend Saturday night curled up with a romance novel and my vibrator.”

 

Five hours later, Lauren still hadn’t said a word to him other than replying when he asked for directions. By the time they turned onto her parent’s street the tension had evolved into a living force inside the car.

Tony rolled his eyes. He knew the vibrator crack had been an obnoxious thing to say, but it pissed him off that she saw him as some kind of major player. Damned if he knew why. Why should he care what she thought about his bedroom habits?

Besides, it wasn’t even true, not recently, anyway. He’d slowed way down since all of his brothers had gotten married and engaged. Not only had he lost his wing man when Mike married Karen; he seemed to have lost his taste for casual encounters. Instead, for the past three months his healthier than average libido had been keenly focused on the woman seated to his right. Too bad his brain had been equally focused on resisting temptation, unwilling to let his dick fuck up a surprisingly deep friendship.

Lauren curled up against the passenger door, squeezing herself as far away from him as possible. Shit. If they were to have a snowball’s chance in hell of succeeding in the weekend’s charade, he needed to offer up a convincing apology.

“I’m sorry for what I said earlier,” he said quietly. “I know it was a dick thing to say, but it bothers me that you think of me as some kind of slut.”

She didn’t unfold her arms, but she at least looked at him when she replied. “Tony, I don’t give a crap how many people you sleep with, and I don’t see why my opinion would matter, anyway.”

Because maybe that’s keeping you from wanting to sleep with me,
he thought. To her, he said, “Yeah, well your opinion does matter. And on the off chance that you do care, I haven’t been with anyone since Nick’s bachelor party.”

Her eyes widened in shock. “You? Go three months without sex? I don’t believe it.”

He shrugged. “Believe whatever you want, but it’s the truth.”

“What about last Saturday? I thought going ‘out’ was like your code phrase for getting a piece of ass.”

“Mike and I met a couple friends at Pete’s and listened to the band. I was home by midnight,
alone.

The corners of her mouth just barely pushed up. She was pleased, for all that she tried to look like she didn’t give a shit who he slept with.

Something suspiciously similar to joy burst in his chest at the thought that she cared, and Tony did his best to stifle it.

“That
was
a jerky thing to say,” she said. “Unlike you, I don’t exactly have members of the opposite sex breaking down my door—”

“Only because you don’t want them to—”

“And for the record,” she continued, “I don’t use a vibrator. Turn here,” she said, indicating a driveway to the right.

“Well, let me know if you ever need a hand,” he cracked, then sucked in a breath as they pulled into the large circular drive of a beachfront mansion. Even in the dark, there was no mistaking it. Lauren’s parents were
loaded!

The cobblestone drive sported a fountain in the center, complete with a bronze statue of a cherub pissing. To the right was what looked like at least a four-car garage. Several more cars lined the drive, and in the glow of the outdoor lights, Tony counted two Ferraris, a Rolls, and a Humvee.

“You never told me your parents were rich,” he accused.

Lauren’s expression was sheepish. “I told you he worked in television.”

Tony shook his head. “Why do you live in that shitty little apartment and drive that hunk of junk?”

Lauren shrugged. “I let them pay for college and they bought me my first really good tool set. But for the most part, I like knowing that I can make it on my own.”

He couldn’t help but admire her. He’d met a lot of trust-fund babes who came up to ski at the resorts near Donner Lake. Most wouldn’t consider lifting a finger for a wage, much less choose a career of manual labor. “Damn, there’s at least a million dollars worth of automotive gear in the driveway alone,” he said on a low whistle.

She sighed heavily. “Unfortunately, they don’t all belong to my folks. Looks like they’re having another one of their gatherings.” Lauren smoothed her hair and tried to brush the rumples from her blouse caused by eight straight hours in the car. “My mom will use any excuse to have a party.”

At that moment, the front door was flung open and Lauren braced herself as an energetic bundle flew down the front steps and threw herself into Lauren’s arms.

Tony had an impression of wild black curls and a lush body hovering just on the edge of plumpness, all packaged in a bright purple sundress. As she stood back, holding Lauren by the shoulders, he knew this had to be Lauren’s mother. Though Lauren towered over her mother and had reddish hair instead of blue black, Tony could tell Lauren had inherited her wide, full smile, sculpted bone structure, and big eyes from Carlotta Banks.

BOOK: Skin on Skin
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