Shades of Sexy (10 page)

Overexposed

Chapter One

Marin Shay stared through her barred bedroom window and watched a man dressed all in black get out of a limousine in the circular drive. Over the estate’s high wall she glimpsed a dozen or so tall news van antennae. Backing away from the glass, she let the heavy curtain fall into place.

Those tabloid people with their long distance lenses never relented. Wasn’t it enough that they’d splashed her dirty laundry over the covers of their newspapers and magazines for years? Did they have to know every minute detail of her life?

Didn’t matter now. Soon enough she’d be on her way to her yearly escape. No paparazzi, no scripts or directors, no cameras flashing in her face. And no entertainment empire to run.

A gentle knock tore her attention to the task at hand. She slipped on a curly blonde wig resembling her natural hair. “Yes?”

Joseph, her newest bodyguard, poked his head into the room. “They’re ready, Miss Shay.”

“Thank you.” She managed a smile, although she suspected Joseph would eventually sell any information he’d glean from working for her. A former maid had fetched a five-figure bounty for a pair of Marin’s panties on eBay just weeks ago. Her last hairdresser had auctioned off clippings of her hair. The obsession with anything and everything she’d ever touched or worn baffled her.

And that was precisely why no one in her employ had all the details of her travel plans. The two weeks of privacy were well worth the four flights, the dozen disguises, the hours she spent making her own arrangements under aliases. She’d even paid two decoys this time, rather than her usual one.

Unable to resist, she teased back the edge of the curtain again and observed a woman who looked amazingly like her slip inside the limo. Minutes later, as the car cleared the gate, most of the news vans hurried after like hungry dogs chasing a scrap of meat.

She couldn’t contain her curiosity at the spectacle in the driveway. The other decoy—cloaked in Marin’s own black designer cape and oversized sunglasses—hurried into an SUV with dark tinted windows. The driver loaded four Louis Vuitton bags into the back. As the sun set the vehicle pulled away and headed toward the gate. The remaining news vans took the bait and sped after it. Perfect.

She sucked in a relieved breath as all the tension evaporated. After removing the wig, she glanced in the mirror and hardly recognized her own reflection. She’d never colored her own hair before, had no idea how easy it was. Flat ironing had taken less than twenty minutes. Her signature blonde curls were gone, replaced by straight brown hair pulled back in a simple ponytail. Dark contacts and wire rim glasses hid her blue eyes and her complete lack of makeup made her look like a teenager.

She tucked her hair into a cloth turban then slipped a wide-brimmed hat - over that, making sure no stray brown locks escaped. The staff didn’t need to know she masqueraded as a brunette. Satisfied with her transformation, she strode from the room and headed to the mansion’s service entrance.

Fifteen hours and four flights later, she climbed out of an ordinary looking rental car in Roatan, Honduras with the men she’d hired to be both bodyguards and decoy husband and son. No matter that she and both men were around thirty, or that the bigger one looked at least part African-American. With a little Hollywood magic she’d picked up from her years in the business, they appeared to be a fifty-ish couple with their twenty-ish son.

The place she’d rented appeared exactly as it had in the pictures. Three stories of pastel blue dollhouse directly on the beach with a balcony wrapped around each level. She inhaled a breath scented with saltwater and flowers as she took in the view. More orchids than she’d ever seen grew in flowerbeds near the entrance. Mountains to the north contrasted with the ocean to the south. Several coconut palms flanked one side of the house, providing a little privacy from any telephoto lenses, although no one could possibly guess she was here. Even the bodyguards didn’t know who she was and hopefully had bought her story about being an heiress on vacation in need of privacy. One spoke passable Spanish, which might come in handy if she decided to venture into town, though she probably wouldn’t.

Inside the house, she waited for the men to close all the blinds before taking off the salt-and-pepper wig. The heavy, confining cage of her world fell away. She found her old, easy smile, the one she’d worn before fame had transformed her. The need to scrub herself clean of Hollywood’s poison suddenly overwhelmed her. “I don’t know about you two, but I’m dying for a shower.”

“Me too. But I’ll wait until you’re through in case the water pressure is a problem.” Tony, the man who’d played her son, gave her a wink. Most women would kill to have those thick, dark eyelashes. “The right amount of pressure is important.” His gaze dropped to her breasts, then rose to her eyes.

Awareness hummed through her, hardening her nipples to painful points. Automatically, she folded her arms over her chest. Lifting her chin higher, she pulled in a breath infused with the scent of his spicy cologne and male sweat. She grinned, wondered if he could take what he dished out? “I just hope it’s big enough.” She made a show of staring at the bulge in his pants. “I like big ones.”

That elicited another wink, this one more playful—and more inviting. “I’m sure you won’t be disappointed.”

She had to admit, he was pretty hot with that shoulder-length hair and those chiseled features. But she couldn’t get the notion out of her head that she’d met him before. If someone had found her out or followed her, her time here would be ruined. Her stomach did a little flip-flop.

No, it has to be my imagination.

“I’m ready for a nap.” Josh, the Spanish-speaking weight-lifter type stretched out on the couch. She wondered if he slept with the toothpick that always seemed to be poking out from between his teeth. He stood about six-four and had arms twice as big around as her legs. Although he’d checked his reflection in every mirrored surface they passed in the airports, she got the feeling he was always aware of her and vigilant about her safety. Long as he watched out for her as well, she didn’t care how vain he was.

No denying his body was amazing. He had the thick neck of a football player and the muscled legs of a long distance runner. His size alone made her feel safe under his watch, yet she wondered what it would be like to have that huge hunk of man hovering above her, sporting an enormous woody.

Both men were totally hot and the three of them would be all alone here for nearly two weeks. Anything was possible. This was the third time she’d taken a trip like this, flying under the radar and all. Only last time her ex Rosco had joined her and the time before, her father had. This was her first foray into vacationing all alone.

Well, not all alone. Perhaps she’d have her pick of one of the men to keep her occupied. She’d not slept with anyone in months for fear of finding herself the subject of some tabloid exposé. Josh and Tony had no inkling as to her identity, so she could be just as wicked as she wanted.

Before she could even think about that, she needed to wash off the grime from all her travels. Maybe take a nap. As much zigzagging as she’d done today, she wasn’t even sure what time zone they were in. She headed upstairs to the master bedroom and stripped off her clothes. Her panties had a wet spot.

All Tony’s fault. Or maybe Josh’s.

What red-blooded woman wouldn’t react to being alone with two hot guys, one a serious flirt, the other a would-be Mr. America contestant? Glancing around the room, she chuckled at the cliché tropical theme—nautilus shell patterned bedspread and curtains, a palm tree-shaped throw rug and a huge beach mural painted on one wall. At least the room was spacious with high ceilings and a canopied king-size bed.

The shower was a large, mostly open square with two heads. Plenty big enough for two…or even three. She tumbled the notion of a threesome around in her head, wondered what it would be like.

She was totally anonymous here and it had been so long since another human being had pleasured her. She’d packed her vibrator, but it lacked a certain warmth and never wanted to cuddle with her after.

Why not try something bad, something dangerous? She turned on the faucet and stepped under the stream. Shutting her eyes, she pictured both men naked and hungry. They wanted to touch her, all over, do things she’d never dared. Desire coursed through her, made her pussy tingle with excitement. She rubbed a bar of soap over her breasts, sucked in a breath of steam as she lingered on her nipples.

God, she missed the feel of a man’s strong arms around her, the rough scratch of a five o’clock shadow against her skin, the heated stares that made her legs wobble.

Liaisons took so much planning for someone like her, always in the limelight, always under scrutiny. Few men could handle that kind of attention. Famous men dealt with it best, already used to the constant attention. Unfortunately, those she’d dated were way more focused on their image than on making a relationship work.

She’d had a couple of regular guys, men without gigantic Hollywood egos. But they’d been too interested in pleasing her, as if they needed instruction. Most were too intimidated to push the envelope, sexually speaking. For once, she didn’t want to be in charge. She yearned for a man to take control of her in the bedroom, make her submit to his will, but she’d never had the nerve to say so.

A blast of cold water ripped her out of her thoughts. Had she run out of hot water already? She gave the faucet a quick twist to shut it off. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw something move. Glancing toward the window, she gasped.

There was a man on the deck just outside the window taking a shower. His back was to her, all tanned skin and rippling muscles. When he turned a little, she realized it was Josh. But she couldn’t stop gawking, couldn’t tear her gaze from his amazing shoulders or his six-pack.

When he twisted toward her, she got a glimpse of his cock. Holy cow! It wasn’t even hard, but it was enormous. Mesmerized, she stepped closer to the window for a better view.

Soap bubbles cascaded over his chest, past his stomach and disappeared in the tuft of brown curls above that amazing… Hey! It was growing. He was getting hard. What the…

Then she lifted her gaze to his face.

Oh God. He grinned, stared at her, obviously enjoying her reaction to his chiseled body. Automatically, she drew her hands up to cover her breasts and she realized her nipples were as rigid as Josh’s erection.

She spun around and rushed out of the shower stall, as far from the window as she could get. Thank God there was a towel on the bed. She grabbed it and wrapped it around her, only it was small and barely covered her.

Releasing the breath she’d been holding, she lay back on the bedspread and threw her arm over her eyes, prayed she’d imagined the whole thing. Maybe she could find another bodyguard here in Honduras to replace Josh.

No. She’d gone to so much trouble finding the two men she had. No way could she take a chance that she’d get some undercover tabloid reporter posing as muscle-bound security. Plus, why not have nice scenery while she was here, rather than some paunchy middle-aged dudes.

Josh certainly was hot. But wouldn’t it be weird with Tony if she and Josh started a fling? At least she had her pick of fabulous eye candy.

When someone knocked on her door, she prayed it wasn’t Josh. How could she look him in the eye now, after she’d seen his… And he’d seen hers?

“Sarah?” a man asked, using the fake name she’d chosen.

“Yes?” She held her breath.

“I have your suitcases.”

So used to having things taken care of without having to think about them, she’d completely forgotten to ask one of the guys to carry up her bags. She stood then secured the towel tightly around her. Before she let him in, she grabbed her glasses from the dresser and slipped them on. “Come in.”

Thankfully, Tony entered with her suitcases. “Here you go.”

She hurried over, reached for the handle of the smaller bag, but he didn’t let it go. Her fingers slid alongside his. All the air sucked out of her lungs. Deafening silence hung between them for a long beat. Finally, she let go.

He let out a nervous cough, set one bag on a folding stand and stood the other next to the closet.

“Thanks.” Why hadn’t she noticed how green his eyes were? Or that he had the most adorable cleft in his chin?

His gaze slid slowly over her legs.

She shivered, realizing she wanted him to see her naked, just as Josh had. Combing her fingers through her damp hair, she tried to act natural, pretend her whole body wasn’t humming with pent-up desire.

How had she ended up with two hot as hell bodyguards? Usually they were beefy middle-aged men with bad breath and an even worse comb-over.

“Can I do…anything for you?” His words left no doubt what he’d like to include in his list of services.

Yes. You can fuck my brains out.

“I’m fine, thanks. For now.” She folded her arms across her chest, closing herself off, chickening out.

“My turn now, right?”

She raised a curious eyebrow. “Huh?”

He pinned her with a smoky stare. “I can use the shower in my room, right? Now that you’re done.”

She cleared her throat. “Um, yes.” How had these men she’d met less than a day ago already learned how to turn her into a hormonal puddle of a woman?