Reality TV Bites by Shane Bolks Page A

“You should just sleep with His Highnesty and get him out of your system,” Josh says. “All that sexual tension between you is making me edgy.”
    â€œI’m working too hard to even think about sex right now, Josh.”
    The elevator in the hall outside Interiors by M opens, and Josh hits the button for the parking garage. “Sweetie, you know what you’re really doing, don’t you?”
    â€œFilling the chasm of my nonexistent sex life with work?”
    â€œOh, please. It hasn’t been that long.”
    The elevator plunges downward with a whirr.
    â€œYeah, that’s easy for you to say when you’ve got Carlos from Cuba.”
    Josh sighs. “I told you, we’re having a tiff. Besides, I haven’t decided about Carlos yet. He’s bi, and I don’t know if I want to date a guy who likes girls.”
    â€œWell, I don’t know if I want to date a guy who has obnoxious friends.”
    â€œYes, you do.”
    The elevator door opens, and we step into the parking garage. It smells like heat, oil, and exhaust.
    â€œYou just want to make the princeling work for it.”
    â€œI don’t give a fudge what he does.” I’m working on not cursing so I don’t mess up in front of the cameras, and fudge is my new favorite word. “I’m going to watch my reality shows on TiVo, then sleep. If I’m lucky I won’t dream about LSC Codes, occupancy classifications, and reverse stenciling.” My heels click on the concrete, the sound echoing through the barren garage.
    Josh waits, knowing I can’t leave it at that. He’s right.
    â€œIn a few weeks this fudging kamikaze show will be over,” I say, “and if Nicolo’s still interested, I’ll think about it.”
    â€œPlease. He’s your fantasy man. You’ve dreamed about this guy.”
    â€œYeah, and I have to wonder if he’s real.”
    â€œIs anyone?” Josh says. Then, “What have we here?”
    Josh slows, and I follow his gaze. Nicolo is standing besidemy BMW, looking cool in casualwear: black slacks, black silk shirt, leather jacket thrown over his shoulder.
    â€œI’m calling later, and I want details,” Josh says, then turns abruptly and heads across the garage to his turquoise Jeep.
    For a long moment I don’t move, trying to figure how I’m going to handle this. Then Nicolo spreads his arms, gives me a disarming smile, and the next thing I know I’m walking toward him. I stop close enough to smell his cologne. It must be made with pheromones because I can’t think of anything but pushing him up against the car and devouring that sexy mouth. “I’m too tired to go out,” I say, surprised that my words trickle through the constriction in my throat.
    â€œThen we should stay in,” Nicolo says softly, his voice and tenor matching my mood, almost as though he can read my mind. “I will entertain you.” He leans closer. “With my mouth, my hands, my body…”
    Okay, this is really corny. I swear, if a friend told me a guy said this to her, I would laugh my ass off. But we’re inches apart, his voice is low and seductive, his body’s hot, and I deserve a little fun after the day I’ve had.
    So instead of laughing at his cheesiness, instead of repeating my professional relationship mantra, I put my hand on the back of his neck, pull him to me, and kiss him hard. I don’t know how long we stand behind my car, our tongues entwined, our bodies wrapped around each other, but when his hand slides under my top and touches skin, I pull away.
    He frowns and sighs with frustration. I know exactly how he feels. The last thing I want to do is stop. I want him, and the role of good girl is a size too small.
    But just because I’ve capitulated internally doesn’t mean I’ll let him see how I really feel.
    â€œAllison, I will take you home, yes?”
    I shake my