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Authors: Brenda Joyce

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #General

Lovers and Liars (22 page)

BOOK: Lovers and Liars
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“I hate both of you,” she screamed after him. “You’re both going to be sorry, you and Belinda Glassman, both of you!”

35

J
ack walked in with only a perfunctory knock. His spirits were higher than high. They had just checked into their rooms, and he had his script in his hand. (Not that he needed to go over his lines—he already knew them by heart.) On the way out from the airport, as they were driving through the saguaro-studded desert to Ventanna Canyon, where half the crew was staying, he’d had a major inspiration about the character of the hero, Nick Ryder. He wanted to run it by Melody.

He stopped short.

Melody sat abruptly upright, wiping her red eyes.

“Mel!” Jack gasped. “What’s wrong?”

She turned her face away. “Please, Jack, not now.”

She was crying. Why was she crying? In all the years he’d known her he’d only seen her cry once, over some schmuck who’d hurt her. “Mel, are you okay?” He approached instinctively, touching her shoulder lightly.

“No, I’m not,” she said heavily, pathetically. He couldn’t see her face, but her shoulders shook. His hands closed over them. “Tell me what’s wrong?” he whispered. “I can’t stand seeing you like this.”

She moaned and was suddenly embracing him, her face nestled in his chest. Jack sank onto the bed and held her while she sniffled and clung. He stroked her back. “It’s not something I did, is it?”

It took her along time to answer. “No. God, Jack,
sometimes it’s just … I get so depressed … sometimes I can’t stand it anymore!” She started crying again.

He held her and rocked her. “Tell me about it, Mel, I want to help.”

“It’s the loneliness.” She sobbed. “I’m so alone. I hurt from the loneliness. I have no one. No one at all.”

“You have me,” Jack said, tightening his hold.

Melody was shaking. “Don’t you see, Jack? It’s not the way it is for you. I’m not pretty and I’m not a star. There’s no one in my life, no men, no man to be with. I haven’t been with anyone in years. I have needs just like anybody else. Not only physical needs but emotional ones too. I hate being alone. I hate the nights!”

She collapsed against him.

“God,” Jack said, stricken. “I take up all your time, don’t I? And leave you with nothing for yourself.”

Jack felt awful, and guilty. “I’m so self-absorbed I never even bothered to think about you, about what you need,” Jack said. “I make a lousy best friend, don’t I?”

Melody didn’t answer.

He thought of all the tail chasing him and tried to imagine how it must be for Melody. He could barely relate. He couldn’t imagine not getting laid for a week, much less a year or more. How could she stand it? And was this his fault? He knew that it was, at least partly, for monopolizing her. And now he wondered if she’d really meant it when she’d propositioned him the other day. She must have. Her loneliness and physical pain must have driven her to turn to him, her best friend. He knew he could make her happy. He wasn’t attracted to her, but he was assailed by so many feelings, some of them tender ones, that it was almost like wanting her. And what was the big deal? After all, they were good friends. Sex was, after all, only sex. And it was because of him that she had no free time to take care of herself.

He shifted her in his arms and brushed his lips against her temple. For the first time he became aware of the fact that she was soft in his arms, soft and all woman, her heavy breasts crushed against his chest. He nuzzled her cheek with
his. “Mel, I don’t want you to be unhappy,” he said huskily. And he meant it.

She lifted her face, her eyes wide and vulnerable and confused. “I can take away the loneliness for a little while,” Jack said, pausing long enough for her to understand. Her eyes widened, her mouth parted. Jack kissed her.

She opened her mouth, and Jack gently inserted his tongue.

Melody’s hands were twisting suddenly and wildly in his hair. She was somehow on her back; he was on top of her. Her mouth was open, aggressive, voracious. Her thighs were clamped around his hips, pulling him into the cradle of her groin. His reaction was immediate; his cock grew thick and hard and heavy, pulsing against her. Melody moaned, flinging her head back, and Jack’s mouth found her throat.

Her explosive passion surprised him only momentarily. It fueled him. He forgot it was Mel. The woman beneath him was soft and warm and trembling with need for him.

He undressed her with fluid, practised ease, freeing her breasts, surprised again with the abundance beneath his hands, against his face.

“So good. So soft, so hard,” he groaned, tugging on a large nipple.

He slid into her, his mind registering heat, wetness, wonderful tightness. The woman beneath him writhed uncontrollably. His mind vaguely observed, detaching itself, and he recalled that this was Melody—what a surprise, “Jack!” she gasped as he drove his huge organ into her. “Jack, Jack,” she chanted.

She came, crying, “Jack!”

36

“A
be, thank God you’re in town!” There was a note of panic in Ted Majoriis’s voice.

“God ain’t got much to do with it,” Abe said lazily, leaning back in his chair in his Los Angeles office.

“What’s going on? The Board’s going crazy! Rumors are flying like shit on a fan!”

“Whaddya mean?” Abe asked, smiling at Ted who was wringing his hands. “It’s a free country, ain’t it? A man can’t buy up a few shares of public stock?”

“Abe,” Majoriis said nervously. “I heard you got thirty percent of the company. That’s a few shares? Look, there’s a lot of speculation. Speculation about a takeover.”

Abe laughed. “A takeover? Ted, I’ve been a major investor in North-Star for almost twenty years.”

Majoriis hesitated. “There’s a big difference between eight percent and thirty percent. I don’t have to tell you that.”

“No, you don’t have to tell me that.” Abe laughed silently. “Look, I ain’t planning a takeover, so relax. My daughter sold that screenplay to North-Star, remember?”

“Yeah, they’re in production.”

“They go into production tomorrow,” Abe corrected. “I’m just backing her up a little, protecting her interests with a few extra shares, that’s all. You shouldn’t have come all the way across town, Ted—I could have told you over the phone.”

“Oh. Yeah, well, I guess that makes sense. You’re not kidding me, Abe? You know you can trust me—I wouldn’t say a word.”

Abe spent another five minutes reassuring him that he was not planning a takeover, knowing that the rumors
would not stop now. In fact, they would increase because of the monkey wrench he’d just thrown into the works. Finally he got rid of Majoriis. “You got Adam Gordon on the line yet?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Adam,” he boomed.

“Abe—er, Mr. Glassman. Hello.”

“Where the hell were you yesterday? I was trying to reach you the whole goddamn day! I’m in town, and I want to see you tonight.”

“I was with Belinda.”

Excitement suddenly coursed through Abe, and he leaned forward. “All day?”

“All day,” Adam said, sounding smug. “In fact, I just got home a while ago.”

Abe laughed with pure delight. “So you finally got into her pants, huh? Took you long enough. I was beginning to fucking wonder what was going on. Where do you stand? Is she falling in love with you?”

There was a moment’s silence, during which Abe could clearly see Adam, rigid and annoyed, maybe even angry. But, Christ, it had taken a long time! Abe had begun to wonder if he should do something about Adam’s extracurricular activities, if they were interfering with his pursuit of Belinda.

“She’s resisting,” Adam finally said. “She’s a stubborn woman.”

Abe laughed again. “Don’t I know it! You better head up to the shoot this weekend, boy, and follow through.” His easy, amiable tone became hard and filled with warning. “You got the edge—don’t lose it.”

He hung up and stretched, grinning with satisfaction. He imagined Adam chasing after Belinda in Arizona. Striking while the iron was hot. He chuckled. He was feeling great.

He buzzed Rosalie. “Send Helga in.”

He always felt great when he was on top, when he was winning. That thought made him think about Will Hayward, and he grinned. Fucking Will had to be an idiot, had
to try and blackmail him. Will had just sacrifaced any loyalty Abe had felt for him based on their past relationship. No one fucked with him, not ever, not even an old friend. Will had just become a liability.

Will had just written himself off.

Helga appeared in the doorway, a tall voluptuous blonde, a Nordic beauty. “Shut the door,” he said. “And come over here.”

She came over, a knit dress clinging to full, erotic curves. Abe pulled her onto his lap, taking her hand and placing it on his rapidly stiffening member. “You ready for this, doll?”

37

BOOK: Lovers and Liars
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