Lyla had been weird all day.
Trick couldn’t figure out what was wrong with her, but she wouldn’t look at him. They’d had to do a bunch of bullshit team-building stuff in the hotel today and he hated every second of it. Mostly because the cameras were there, getting in everyone’s faces, asking questions, and urging him to get as close to Kira as possible.
Exactly what Paul was lecturing him about now.
Sitting on the couch in the lounge area of the suite he was sharing with Lyla, Trick couldn’t stop thinking about his wife who was in the bedroom, alone, while he was surrounded by the crew, focused on the director who was pacing back and forth on the other side of the coffee table in front of the opposite couch.
“So as soon as you can sneak off, do it,” Paul said. “Kira knows this is why she’s here, so she’s not going to put up any fight. Be polite, buy her a drink, flirt, we’ll catch as much of it as we can, but don’t be too obvious, this is extramarital, remember? We want it to be clandestine; that makes it hotter.”
Trick felt sick.
He couldn’t relax.
Curling one hand around a fist, he squeezed and gave himself a silent pep talk. Goddamnit, this was Kira, he’d had sex with her a thousand times. They weren’t asking him to do anything he hadn’t done before. And she was hot, if he just thought about her features, and not her personality, he’d get it up, he could do this.
Her boobs… was that what had done it for him before? No, they weren’t responsive, weren’t as high and full as Lyla’s, hadn’t featured in any of his recent fantasies, not the way his wife’s had.
Her ass, that was it, he could just grab hold and… Skinny and flat, that was how he remembered Kira’s ass now. Her ass didn’t register at all, even in the tightest dress. She was all bone, no tone, not like the way Lyla’s looked in her bikini when he—
“No,” Trick said, getting more agitated as his anger level rose. “I wasn’t. You want me to fuck her, so I’ll fuck her. I don’t need a step-by-step guide.”
“Good,” Paul said and reached into the equipment case that was on the couch behind him to pull something out. Tossing it over to him, Trick had to think fast to catch it… and he took a second to register what it was: a box of condoms. “Be safe. Give us ten minutes to get setup, then come down.”
Paul herded the guys out of the suite. Trick listened to the automatic lock click in to place. Inhaling, he blew out his breath and shoved up from the couch. He had to see Lyla before he went out, but Trick already knew this was going to be the most awkward conversation of their relationship.
Last night, in bed with her, he’d felt accepted, needed… just like a regular guy lying with his woman. If Paul hadn’t interrupted them, he’d have kissed her for sure. She seemed to have put this line between the real him and the character he played. She believed that the character would letch over her, but believed it was impossible for the real him to have any kind of intimate feelings for her. And her comment about him being a brother? He didn’t know whether to laugh at that or spit.
Going around the couch, past the armchair at the head of the table, he stuffed the box of rubbers into his jacket pocket and gave the bedroom door a push to let it swing open on its hinges. There she was, his wife, on the floor at the end of the bed, standing on her head in her yoga gear. Man, she had a body, and she didn’t even know it. He loved watching her do her yoga; she evened her breathing and closed her eyes, and just seemed to lose herself in it.
He knew she did something to stay in shape and yoga was just a part of her regime; she was way more physical than she realized.
When her eyes popped open and she noticed him, she smiled and let her body descend into an elegant crab shape before slowly rising to her feet. “Oh, good, I wanted to ask you something before I forgot.”
At least she wasn’t being as distant as she had been all day. Today, he hadn’t felt that she was pleased to have him within three feet of her or even to hear his voice. She’d just closed down. But now she was smiling, was she pleased that he was going to Kira? That he was going to be intimate with another woman?
“Ask away,” he said as she went to her laptop case in the corner of the room.
If she asked him to stay, he would, he’d already made that promise to himself and to Sadie who had been glaring at him for most of the last two days, since Kira showed up. He’d thought having one of his closest friends on this trip with him would give him support. As it was, he felt a bit like his network was falling apart. Sadie was pissed at him, Lyla was being distant, and Kira… well she would just love that he needed her help.
“Will you sign a picture for me?”
“Will I…?” Lyla actually pulled a picture out the front of her laptop case and brought it over with a Sharpie, wearing a grin. Did she know what was going on here? “You want me to sign a picture for you?”
“Not for me,” she said, putting the pen in his hand as she spread the picture on the dresser. “It’s for my cousin, Avril. She asked before the wedding and I forgot, I didn’t think it would be appropriate to ask you then.”
“But you thought it was appropriate now?” he asked, watching her pop the cap off the pen for him.
“We’re friends now,” she said. “You said we were buddies last night.”
“Friends?”
Lyla pushed his hand down toward the picture, what was she doing? And why would she still not look at him? Well if this was what she wanted, he would do it for her. As Trick moved the pen to the paper to sign it, he began to think about what he wouldn’t do for her… was there anything on that list?
“Thank you!” she exclaimed when he was done and picked up the shiny sheet to blow on the ink to dry it.
All he could see was his woman standing there with her back to him, paying such careful attention to the picture while ignoring the real him. Putting the pen on the dresser, Trick took a step forward and slid his hand around her waist. He was going to kiss her neck, in that sweet little spot beneath her ear that made her whimper.
Except she took his hand away from her belly and moved it aside so she could walk across the room and slip the picture back into a folder in her laptop case. “Lyla—”
“Paul already told everyone I was sick, so just tell them you left me up here in bed and you won’t have to worry about saying anything else,” she said, chipper as she turned to lean against the wall between the chair and the nightstand. “I feel sort of guilty that I get a night off and you have to do all the work.”
Only Lyla could say she felt guilty on the night her husband was going off to sleep with another woman. Pinning his eyes on hers, Trick wished he could make her understand how important she was and how she deserved so much better than this.
“Ask me to stay,” he muttered.
He hadn’t meant to say it. But he had to let her know, if there was a choice, he was choosing her.
But she just smiled that Lyla smile that told him she was about to say something self-sacrificing like it was no big deal. Something no other woman would ever say. “Don’t be silly,” she said. “I wouldn’t do that to you. This is what you want… I’m happy for you, honey.”
Happy for him because she thought Kira was such a catch? Except he’d caught that fish long ago and let her swim free without chasing her because he knew she wasn’t worth it, she wasn’t half the woman Lyla was.
“If you change your mind, call down, ok?” he said and she nodded.
“I won’t, but thank you for considering me,” Lyla said and her smile got even wider. “Now go have fun… Go on!”
She encouraged him out the door with a wave of her hands and there was nothing else he could say, so he went. Leaving the bedroom, he marched across the suite and out into the hallway to head for the elevator.
Lyla was going to spend the night alone in their suite and he was going to spend the night with Kira. His wife didn’t give him grief or make him feel guilty about what the studio were asking him to do. But happy for him? Could she really be happy for him? Maybe she was happy for him because she knew the start of the affair was the beginning of the end of their marriage. How many weeks would the studio ask him to string both women along? After sleeping with Kira, his chances of ever getting intimate with Lyla dropped into a minus percentage.
His stride slowed.
He knew already that his chances of ever getting with her for real were slim, but she’d never allow herself to be two-timed. Their friendship had gone from strength to strength since their conversation in her department, but he’d lose that after being with Kira.
And Kira, would she expect a relationship? Did she want the show to focus on them? If she did, he’d never get rid of her.
This wouldn’t be a temporary fling, not if Kira caught a whiff of the limelight.
Lyla would be pushed out.
She’d leave his apartment.
They’d get a divorce.
It would be over.
Stopping in the middle of the hallway, he was suddenly hit with all kinds of emotions and ideas.
What he wanted… What did he want? Lyla had said that this was what he wanted. But he didn’t. He’d never craved Kira. He’d been relieved to get out of that relationship and had no desire to go back to it and…
Returning to his thoughts on the couch, he realized how every time he compared the women, it wasn’t Kira who got him hot, it was Lyla.
Lyla’s body.
Lyla’s laugh.
Her mind.
Her smile.
Her.
He couldn’t even bring himself to fondle his wife’s ass or her boobs. Yeah, because he knew she didn’t want it and it would be disrespectful, but also because his body couldn’t take the teasing torment.
On that bus, when she’d been sitting on him, wriggling her ass on his cock, he couldn’t stop himself from getting hard, and he didn’t want to scare or upset her, so he had to move her onto his chest.
All through their honeymoon he’d stayed in the water and in the jacuzzi because of his hard-on. But it wasn’t just her body that got to him. No. He loved how she took care of him, making sure he stayed hydrated, made smoothies for him for energy and took note of his sleeping and grooming habits.
She could read him. They’d been married for a day shy of three weeks now, and spent every waking minute together that they weren’t working. And he’d never once been bored with her.
Sometimes it was intense and full-on and he felt awful for the way he had to act around her for the show. Lyla made him want to be better. Made him value himself more and his character less. She brought out every protective instinct he’d ever had because she was so vulnerable. Even if she didn’t see it, her naivety about men and sex made her a target for others.
Lyla carried herself with composure and never griped or complained. She wanted everyone else to be happy, went out of her way to be accommodating, and no one stepped up for her.
Turning on the spot, Trick began to walk down the corridor, slow at first and then faster as he got closer. Lyla deserved better than this.
Screw the show.
Someone had to step up for her. She deserved better than what she’d been put through. She needed someone to prioritize her, no one ever had… until now.
Lyla was the full package, she was real, and he would be a fool to lose the best thing that had ever happened to him.
Trick wanted her.
In his life.
In his bed.
In his heart.
Lyla was his and he was going to make it his mission to make her see just how much he cared about her.
No. That wasn’t enough. He cared about Sadie. About Josie. About the guys.
No, Lyla was different. She was more special. The most special person he’d ever known.
She was his wife.
His best friend.
The person he trusted most in the world.
He didn’t just care about her.
He loved her.