wrong, but isnât it you with the might-be-straying husband?â
âYes, but youâre going to help me, arenât you?â Jamie said pleadingly.
Madison sighed. âIf you insist,â she said. Jamie always had been the champion at getting her own way.
âI canât do it alone, Maddy. Will you make the appointment and come with me?â
âOkay, okay,â Madison said impatiently, wishing she could learn to say no. âBut only if you stop all this Kris Phoenix crap. Heâs a horny old rock star for crissakes. Definitely not for you.â
âI promise,â Jamie said, an angelic expression on her lovely face. âHowever, I swear to you, if I find out that Peter is screwing around, Iâll track Kris Phoenix down and fuck him in the middle of Times Square!â
CHAPTER
4
I N BED WITH J OEL B LAINE , Rosarita realized he was every-thing Dex was not. Joel was a down-and-dirty lover, servicing her in ways she had only ever dreamt about. He pushed her around, making her do things Dex wouldnât dare try. When he was inside her, he wanted her all the wayâforcing her legs around the back of his neck, popping amyl nitrate vials under her nose whether she liked it or notâbiting her nipples until she screamed with a mixture of pain and pleasure. He was all man. Eight and a half solid inches that he made her deep throat until she gagged.
When she finally cameâspread-eagled on top of himâshe let out a scream so loud and out of control that he clamped his big hairy hand over her mouth and told her to shut the fuck up.
She liked a man who was in charge.
Personality-wise he reminded her of her father. In the looks department, he was no Dex. He was not very tall, dark and stocky, with plenty of thick body hair, brooding close-set eyes and fleshy lips. The combination made him attractive in a sexy, flashy way.
This was their second assignationâtheir first one in a bed. The time before, right after theyâd met at the opening of an artgallery show, heâd parked in a dark SoHo side street, shared a vial of coke with her and made rough love to her in the back of his gleaming gray Bentley while a couple of transients looked on through the open window. It was one big turn-on.
Tonight was even better. More coke. More sex. Her two favorite things.
âJesus!â she exclaimed, reaching for a cigarette and lighting up. âThat was sensational!â
Joel was already on his way into the bathroom. She took another drag on her cigarette and peeked at her watch. It was past six, time for her to go home and spend another boring evening with Dex. Was it any wonder that she wanted him dead?
If Dex was out of her life, she would be free to pursue a proper relationship with Joel. Right now he was playing it poker faced because he knew she was unavailable.
Sheâd give anything to spend the night with him. Dinner at a nice restaurant. Drinks at a happening club. Then back to his place for more of the same.
Idly she wondered what it would be like to be married to a man like Joel. He was a goer, a doer. At thirty-twoâaccording to what heâd told herâhe practically ran his fatherâs enormous real estate business. What a match they would make. They both had powerful, rich fathersâmen from whom theyâd learned plenty. Together they could rule New York.
Only Dex stood in her way.
Damn him! He was a dumb nobody. Why had she married him?
Oh yeah, yeah, sheâd thought he was destined to be a movie star . . .
End of that story.
She could hear the sound of the shower coming from the bathroom. Surreptitiously she slid open Joelâs bedside drawer and checked out the contents. A gun. Excellent, it showed he had balls. Six boxes of peppermint Tic Tacs. A porno video entitled Hot Spurts. An unopened package of extra-large condoms. And a pale-blue envelope with Sweetie written across the front. Quick as a flash she
Alice Clayton, Nina Bocci