Getting Tricky Read online

  The position was good. Lyla wondered if Trick had picked it because no one would be able to see into the room, no chance of anything “extra” being picked up if the camera wasn’t turned off in time.

  Lyla hadn’t meant to be so long in the bathroom, and by the time she came out, Trick was alone in the armchair. But with his elbow on the arm of the chair and his scowl aimed at the coffee table, she didn’t think he was on air yet.

  Glancing at the clock, she saw that there was still some time. She’d intended just to sneak into the bedroom where she was going to read while he worked. But that face wasn’t of the fun-loving Trick needed for Boys Night.

  She got worried. “I’m wearing your tee-shirt,” she said, tiptoeing toward him. “Is that ok?”

  “Hmm?” he asked and lifted his head to look at her. “Oh, yeah, babe, whatever you want.”

  When he sank forward and planted his hands on his forehead as he propped his elbows on his knees, she knew something was wrong. “Trick,” she said, but he didn’t move.

  Creeping toward him, she checked that the light on the camera was off. It was. The light would come on when the camera was recording and transmitting. The first laptop on the table beneath would show Trick what the studio were seeing of him here in the room, right now it was on a test screen. The other laptop would show the studio, the guys, what was being broadcast to the public and that was on a test screen too.

  Putting a hand to his shoulder, Lyla startled him by pushing him back in the seat and sinking onto his lap. “Babe, I only have a few minutes.”

  With her hands on his cheeks, she used her thumbs to turn his lips up at the corners. “Where’s this guy?” she asked. Her slight concern became full-blown panic when she tried to kiss him and he turned his mouth down. “Nairn?”

  “How come you ran away from me today, huh?” he asked. “You leaped off my back, and said your behavior was inappropriate, how come you did that? You asked if I was embarrassed to be with you. I never asked if you were embarrassed to be with me.”

  “What?” she exhaled, “Are you playing with me?”

  “Playing?” he snapped. “No, I’m not playing. Tell me, are you embarrassed about us?”

  How could he even think that? “No! God, baby, no,” she said, cupping his face to stop him from looking away. “No, I… I didn’t ask you to put me down because I didn’t want to be up there. I didn’t even do it because of Kira. I did it because…”

  “Why?” he barked, his eyes dark with anger. “Why did you do it? I get you pushing me away if I’m a prick, but I did nothing, nothing that—”

  “Hey,” she said, smiling and pressing her mouth onto his even though his didn’t respond. “I’m not embarrassed to be with you, Trick. I love you.”

  His anger vanished and shock took its place. “You… you love me?”

  Nodding, she couldn’t stop her grin from spreading. “And I’m so proud of us.”

  “Then why did you—”

  “Because it suddenly occurred to me that I had my own character to play and kissing you, jumping on you, that’s not what my character does… not all of a sudden.”

  Relaxing, he seemed to be considering this. “You weren’t embarrassed?”

  “No,” she said. “I kissed you because I’m proud of you, because I was tired of hiding how I felt. I wanted us to be able to kiss without worrying about the cameras. But I took it too far. The piggy-back, kissing your neck, it was too much for my character. We’ll have to ease into that, or you’ll have to take the lead. It was only because of the show.”

  “So when we’re not filming the show…”

  Kissing the end of his nose then his cheek, she grinned. “Expect me to be all over you.”

  “Oh, thank God for that,” he said and his whole body loosened when he smiled and put his arms around her.

  This time when she kissed him, he responded. “But I don’t understand,” she said, “you weren’t in a bad mood after that. I mean you were, but… you weren’t pissed at me when we were saying goodbye before you went with Kira, I don’t—”

  “She made a move on me,” he said, sliding his hand up the front of her thigh. “When we were looking for the third thingy, she hit on me and we had this big blow out right there in the woods.”

  “And that upset you?” she asked, stroking his face. “Sometimes old wounds aren’t as healed as we thought. When we care about people—”

  “That’s not why I’ve been in a mood,” he said, watching his hand smooth up and down her thigh.

  “Then why have—”

  “I’m worried about how it will look on the show,” he said. “How it will look to you.”

  That was why he was in a bad mood? He was worried that Kira hitting on him and the argument they’d had would play out as feelings being aired or maybe it would look like they got more than a little bit physical.

  “Oh, honey,” she sighed.

  “If they cut it to look like I did something with her… I thought you were pulling away, that what Kira said got to you and if you were having second thoughts about us and then you saw that…”

  Sometimes he was so sweet. “Baby, don’t worry about that, I know how editing works,” she said. “You’re man enough that if you’d…”

  “Fucked her.”

  “Yes, if you’d done that, you would tell me. What would be the point of lying about it when it’s out there on film? You said you loved me… I’m taking you at your word. And if you love me, you won’t want to hurt me. If you slept with another woman, it would hurt me… If you kissed another woman, it would hurt me.”

  Taking hold of her upper arms, Trick put some space between them so he could meet her eye to show her how serious he was. “I didn’t kiss her. I didn’t touch her. I promise you, baby.”

  “I know,” she whispered, stroking his face. “Will you do me a favor tomorrow?”

  “Anything,” he asked as she scratched her nails through his stubble.

  “Don’t shave,” she said and smiled. “I like this.”

  “It’ll dry your skin,” he said, but let his hand carry on up to her hip, over the elastic of her underwear.

  Kissing him once, she licked his lower lip. “I have good moisturizer.”

  “Yes,” he grinned. “You do.”

  “If you don’t want to, I—”

  “Baby, if that’s all it takes to make you happy, I’m the luckiest man alive… and it’ll free up time in the shower.” He wiggled his brows and she laughed.

  “There is one more thing that makes me happy,” she said, slouching in his lap a little more as she lifted her crossed legs over the opposite arm of the chair.

  “What’s that, baby?” he murmured.

  “When you kiss me.”

  Lowering his mouth onto hers, he took his time tasting her lips, teasing her left and right. Licking her lips, he dipped the tip of his tongue between her lips only to withdraw it and his teasing made her whimper.

  “Trick,” she whispered against him, curling her fingers around his neck to pull him closer to her. She sank down to rest her head against the wide arm of the chair. “Touch me.”

  The breath of the words warmed his lips; she lifted her head to seek out his mouth again. Skimming her hand from the back of his neck down the length of his strong arm, Lyla found his hand on her thigh and urged it higher to let his fingers graze over the crotch of her panties and she drew her knee up to set her foot on the arm of the chair she was draped over.

  “Uh, you guys need a minute?”

  The third voice in the room made her tense and when she turned her face to see the light on the camera and the view of her and Trick on the laptop next to the second screen that showed the Boys Night studio, she squealed and leaped up out of her husband’s lap to dart toward the bedroom.

  “Oh, cheers, buddy,” Trick said to the camera as he rubbed a hand over his mouth. He leaned away from the chair to grab a cushion off the couch, which he positioned over his lap. “I’ll remember
this next time you’re getting a little honey from your old lady. You guys couldn’t have waited five minutes?”

  Standing at the bedroom door, Lyla’s embarrassment morphed into pride. She leaned on the frame, watching her husband in that chair, his smile wide. That smile. She’d put that there. Five minutes ago, he’d been upset, in a bad mood, now he was him again.

  “I don’t have an old lady. I’m free and clear, buddy, no ball and chain,” Noah Tate said, getting a laugh from the audience. “And five minutes? What would you do with the other four minutes thirty seconds?”

  Another laugh. “We had an appointment, you prick. Nookie happens on your time,” Nathaniel Green said, his voice carrying through the speaker beneath the camera.

  “Actually, it happens on hers. You think I’m pissed, you should see her face right now,” Trick said and glanced over at her to wink.

  “Guess all that bullshit about you not getting any from the wife has just been blown out the water,” Green said.

  “Guess it has,” Trick said, lifting his feet onto the table and stretching out like Mr. Cock of the Walk.

  Turning to go into the bedroom, Lyla wasn’t going to stand and watch him all night although she could. Seeing him there, holding court, handsome, powerful, the center of attention, it was alluring. But she wasn’t allowed to be aroused right now, she had to wait an hour for that.

  It was about forty-five minutes later that Lyla reached for her laptop. When she pulled it out of the case, the case toppled. Everything fell out and crashed into the lamp, sending it falling to the floor where the bulb flickered and then went out.

  Cringing, she tensed and closed her eyes. Trick was still out in the living room hosting Boys Night. She was supposed to be quiet, but the bedroom door was open.

  “I have no idea,” Trick said. “It’s the missus trashing the hotel room. What can I say? She’s rock ‘n’ roll. You ok, baby?” When he called out to her, she tucked her chin in toward her neck. Oops. He’d heard her. The clattering had carried through to the living room. Lyla had wrecked his show. “No, I hope not…”

  If she didn’t show him that she was ok, he’d leave his seat, which he wasn’t supposed to do until the show was over. Putting everything down, she went to the door and smiled at him, probably coming across as sheepish as she felt. “I’m ok,” she mouthed.

  “You can talk out loud, baby,” he said. “The audience wants to know you’re safe.”

  No they didn’t. They would probably love it if she killed herself live on TV… at least the studio execs would. “I’m ok,” she said aloud, but quietly.

  Trick gestured to her. “Come over here.” Her eyes widened and she shook her head, which made him smile. “Don’t look so scared, it’s the guys, you know the guys.”

  She’d met them at the wedding, but she didn’t know them. Maybe for the purposes of Boys Night, she was supposed to pretend that she did. Did she have to play a different character for this show? Maybe they should’ve talked about it before he went on air. But she’d already made a mess of things by appearing way more wanton on Boys Night than she had on Opposites. It did air at midnight, so basically anything was allowed on Boys Night.

  Dipping down, she pulled a beer from the fridge and opened it. If she had a reason to go to him, she could go and then come straight back. His grin widened. “Wow, what a babe,” he said when she held up the beer. “Look at this, guys, she takes care of everything I need.”

  Carrying it to him, Lyla stretched her arm toward him and he rose enough to take the beer, but he grabbed her wrist to pull her over too. “Trick,” she said and glanced to the laptop to see that her legs were in the shot.

  “Geez,” Green said. “Your wife’s got stems.”

  “Mm,” Trick said, taking the beer bottle from his lips to put it on the side table. Yanking her between his open legs, he pulled the tee-shirt that was draped over her tight across the top of her thighs. “Doesn’t she?”

  The laptop showed that only her thighs and knees were really on show. Letting her knees buckle, she sank down onto the floor between Trick’s feet. It meant her face was in the shot, but wearing Trick’s tee shirt meant nothing else was on show. Not that she minded showing skin, as such, but it felt weird to hear anyone say anything nice about her body.

  “Hey, Lyla,” Green and Tate chorused.

  “Hi,” she said, touching the edge of the coffee table.

  “Are you keeping our boy in check?”

  “Trying my best,” she said. “But does anyone keep Trick in check?”

  “Many have tried,” Green said.

  Rolling her eyes, she lifted an elbow to Trick’s knee. “Many, many… many.”

  “Hey,” Trick said, taking another drink from his beer. She could tell what he was doing, because she could see the laptop that showed what was being beamed to the massive screen behind the couch that the ‘Threens’ hung out on to do the show. “Are you all calling me a slut?”

  “Little bit,” Green said and she actually held a hand over her head with her thumb and forefinger an inch apart.

  Trick laughed and caught her hand to close his own around it. “Ok, they’re safe ‘cause they’re in the studio. You think you’re safe sitting here, Mrs. Strickland?”

  Twisting around, she put her back to the camera and smiled at him. “I’m safe,” she said, pressing her hands onto his knees.

  His eyes got heavy and he slid the beer onto the end table again. “Oh, yeah? You think you’re safe?”

  Nodding her head, Lyla slowly straightened her arms to rise and angle herself over his slouched body. The whole world could probably see her ass as she leaned in to kiss her husband, but they’d all seen her in a bikini from every angle. And once a person had been filmed in the shower every day for three weeks, they got over modesty fast. Whether the footage was used or not, someone had seen it.

  “Mm,” Trick said and scooped his hand around her jaw to tip her head higher as he bowed to part her lips with his. “You taste good… sweet… you’ve been eating those candies I left on the nightstand. You always taste good.”

  He was aroused by her, she could feel the length of his erection against her torso as she pressed herself against him. Leaving the floor, she pushed his legs closer together so she could climb onto his chair to straddle him.

  Pressing her lips onto his, Lyla forced her tongue into his mouth. It was clear he meant to keep the kiss intimate, but restrained. She didn’t feel restrained.

  Her man had worried she was embarrassed about being with him. Replaying that accusation while in the bedroom had angered her, it upset her, it hurt her, and she understood what he’d said about being hurt when she said the same thing about him.

  When she drew back from the kiss, she began to rock her hips over his, something the whole world would see. There was a whoop behind her, but she just smiled at the man under her who was clearly stunned. “I bet I feel better than I taste, do I?” she murmured and swayed forward to kiss him again. “Do I?”

  He nodded, but the camera wouldn’t pick up his slow, clumsy move that was driven by his shock because she was in the way. Lyla had told Trick earlier that she was beginning to like shocking people and she was learning that the number one person she liked to shock was Trick.

  Taking off her glasses, she dumped them next to the beer bottle and reached for the hem of her tee shirt. Pulling it off over her head, she dropped it over the arm of the chair, and winked at him before relaxing her chest to his and kissing him hard.

  “Screw the show. Everyone shut the hell up, this is quality television,” Tate said behind her and she heard noise from the studio audience cheering. All they’d be able to see was her bare back and maybe her panties as she rocked herself over the erection in Trick’s jeans.

  Next time she broke the kiss, she started to unbutton his shirt, but he was slouched, lying on it, so she couldn’t actually take it off. “I’m not waiting another ten minutes for you, Trick,” she whispered, brushing her lips left
and right on his. “I want you… now.”

  Something about her husky request made him get with it. Bringing up his legs as he lifted his torso, his arms came around her. They held her so tight that her torso was pressed to his. He was protecting her, covering her up as he stood up and took half a step to put her on her back on the couch, perpendicular to the chair he’d just been on and parallel to the coffee table, which meant they were just out of shot.

  The guys in the studio called out to protest. Trick stuck an arm out across the table and waved as if he was trying to shoo them away. Lyla laughed and opened her hands on his neck to receive the full force of his next kiss.

  God, he felt good, so good, too good. “Trick,” she gasped when he pulled her leg higher around his torso and started to kiss her neck. “Oh, God, Trick.”

  Pulling at his belt, he whipped it free of its loops and tossed it out the way. It flew in the direction of the camera, either the studio saw it or Trick just broke something because there was a cheer from the speaker.

  “Babe, just—” Instinct made her grab for his dick that he’d just freed from his pants and he groaned when she squeezed him tight. “Damn, baby… that’s it, yeah.”

  “Like this?” she asked, her innocent question made him growl through his clenched teeth.

  “Oh yeah,” he said, forcing each word from his throat.

  Rising, she kissed his Adam’s apple. Something spikey, that wasn’t a shirt button, grazed her breast. Glancing down to see what it was, she laughed and curled her fist around it. “Trick, you’re still miked,” she said, turning her lips into her mouth.

  “Yeah, man, uh, we’re still here.”

  “Crap,” Trick said and rose onto his knees.

  The microphone was clipped onto the edge of his open shirt. Since doing Opposites, Lyla had learned how these things worked. She put both arms around him to pull the battery pack from his belt, then tossed it to the coffee table.