No wonder his Barbie was getting so much action on YouTube.
Bodhi shifted, drawing my attention to his sculpted back and muscled arms. I was about to scoot closer and get a better look at my brand spankin’ new celebrity screw buddy, but Hercules, with his hundred plus pound body, was lying across my feet, essentially trapping me in place.
And I wasn’t the only human to become an animal pillow during the night either. Lucy had taken up residence at the small of Bodhi’s back, her head actually resting on the dips and swells of his impressive rump. Such a smart cat. I wished I’d thought of that first.
Rounding out our interspecies orgy was Sweatpea, lounging in his spot of honor on the pillow between Bodhi and me. The furry jerk stretched happily in his sleep, face to face with his newly discovered favorite person. I, of course, got the butt end of the deal.
I smiled at the absurdity of the situation I found myself in now. Women plotted a lifetime to spend the night with the guy currently dribbling on my pillow, and all I had to do was fling myself in front of his fast-moving vehicle during a firestorm to get in his pants. Not a bad trade off if you asked me. When it came right down to it, a full body cast wouldn’t have been too steep a price to pay for my current view.
I mean, let’s be honest here, Bodhi wasn’t just famous… he was smokin’ hot famous. So much so that I was never going to wash these sheets again. He was worth the cost of buying a new set. And this view, right here, was worth every penny.
I wasn’t exactly sure how Bodhi had gone from an untouchable heartthrob to an actual human being in such a short period of time, but I was sure it had something to do with the way he’d opened up to me so effortlessly. I suspected it took a moment of vulnerability for someone like Bodhi to distinguish himself as one of us common folk. That was the downside to celebrity. They were forced to hide behind a wall of fame to protect themselves from the overeager interest of fans that didn’t see them as people. The fire had forced Bodhi out into the open, exposing him for who he really was… just a man with a knack for taming out-of-control dogs and impressing females with goose eggs on their foreheads.
It made me wonder what else was everyday and ordinary about him. Certainly, he had the same desires as any man. He’d proven that last night in every way that counted and if I dialed up the sexy this morning, I knew I could have him again. I mean what guy would turn down a free invitation for morning sex? I’m talking the kind that occursbeforethe trip to the bathroom.
Unplanned. Unbridled. Unsanitary.
Oh yeah. He’d be into it. And judging by the way my body was heating up, so would I.
But then what? Where did we go from here? Was he going to stick around now that I’d already played my trump card? Of course not. Bodhi had probably slipped on those lady sweats in the middle of the night in order to have a head start out of my life the moment his eyes opened for the day.
I wanted to be more than just his one-night stand, yet that’s what I’d relegated myself to by acting like a horndog humping my way through a citywide blackout. I was now going to have to pay the price for my embarrassing lack of impulse control because, if there was one universal truth about rock stars, it was that you didn’t ask one of his caliber, a guy who had his pick of pretty much any eligible female of childbearing age, to actively engage in the wooing process. They weren’t boyfriends. They were bed buddies – nothing more and nothing less.
So then why was my brain not believing that? Why did I expect more from him despite the fact that all indicators pointed in one shaky direction? I’ll tell you why. Because my mother and stepfather had always made me feel I was special enough to alter the very fabric of the universe. There was nothing I couldn’t do, and that included changing the whoring ways of big name celebrities. I’ll admit the altar-dumping had dampened my resolve but it didn’t change the core of who I was inside, and that was a woman who believed I was worthy of the very best. Ugh, the curse of high self-esteem. Thanks Mom!
Still, if I thought logically about this, there were some indicators that blinked positive. The first was we hadn’t met at a concert or passing on the street. Thrown together during the scariest moment of both of our lives, our connection had been accelerated into overdrive. There was nothing like surviving countywide destruction together.
Sure, to an outsider, it sounded ridiculous to pin my romantic hopes and dreams on a popstar with teen dream hair, but there were exceptions to the rule and I planned on being one of them.
Staring up at the ceiling, I played the night back in my mind, sifting through the memories —the good, the bad, the terrifying and the orgasmic.
I hadn’t been imagining our connection. It was there and with every touch and every word spoken, Bodhi had shown me who he was. If I were just a throwaway girl, why would he risk his privacy on me? Something had kept him here last night and the hopeless romantic, undying optimist in me wanted to believe it was more than just a warm bed.
The flashing light on the microwave snagged my attention.
What the…?
Was that…?
Oh my god!
The electricity was back on!
“Herc, move!” I demanded, struggling to get out from under him. He was dead weight and it took a fighting spirit just to free my feet enough to sit up. “Jesus, dog, you take ‘bed hog’ to a whole other level.”
Nudging Bodhi, I whispered in his ear. “I have a surprise for you.”
He grunted but remained in his prone and groggy state.
“Guess what’s back on?” I said in a sing-song voice. “The power, baby!”
Bodhi’s eyes flew open and he blinked at me. “Wha …? The power?”
“Uh-huh. Come on, sleepyhead.” I bounced in my spot. “Wake up so we can flick all the light switches on and off repeatedly just because we can.”
He shifted, then went stone still, his petrified gaze finding mine. “What’s on my back?”
“Lucy.”
