Saturday's Child - Storm Saturday Night
Noble Romance Publishing LL, Feb 1, 2009
Aspiring actress Storm Wrenn needs the money from this commercial or she'll be evicted. They are casting a man for the part-well, can she act or can't she? She'll go to the audition as a man.
Logan Mackenzie and Judd Taylor cast Storm for the part, film the commercial and pay her. But something is wrong. When they discover their male star is a woman, they decide to give her a taste of what real men are like.
Special Content Alert: M/F/M Menage
She rose from her seat, and both men stood with her. "Hey," Judd said. "Not so fast. If it means that much to you, maybe we can work around it."
"Yeah," Logan added, "We want you."
She glanced from one of them to the other, her heart racing. Something about the words and the way he'd said them-was this the come-on she'd been expecting? "Hang on. Is this about a part or is this about . . . something else?"
Judd stepped behind Logan and accidentally bumped into him. Logan's beer splashed all over her. Storm looked down at her sodden shirt and fought back the panic.
"Oh shit," Judd said. "Sorry, Shane. There's a bathroom over there, man. I'll pay to clean the shirt."
"That's all right," she said, forcing herself to remain calm. She looked toward the back and saw the restroom sign. "I'll be back in a minute."
Remembering her role, she strode toward the restrooms, paused for one second at the door to the ladies room then kept going. Hopefully neither Judd nor Logan was watching. She pushed the door to the men's room open and went inside.
Two guys were standing at the urinals, and she averted her gaze, walked into one of the two stalls and closed the door.
Trembling all over, she sucked in deep breaths. This was a stupid idea. How had she ever believed she could fake being a man? She'd been lucky today, but if she'd thought about it for even one minute, she'd have realized her career as an actor was bound to turn out like this. Sooner or later, every male actor would remove his shirt, wouldn't he?
And that half-assed cover job-pretending she had standards that prevented her from taking off her shirt or wearing a tank top? Good grief. Beyond stupid. How had she not foreseen this?
She leaned against the wall and looked down at her shirt. She stunk like a damned saloon. She ought to find a back way out, avoid the two men, change her phone number, take her five thousand dollars and call it a day.
The sound of squeaking door hinges echoed through the room. She peeked between the cracks in the stall. The two men who'd been using the urinals when she came in must have gone. She reached for the door handle, but another sound echoed in the tiled room and she froze.
Oh shit-Judd. "Yeah?"
"Sorry about the shirt man."
"No problem." She had to get out of there. She reached for her zipper, zipped it halfway down then back up, flushed the toilet with her elbow and stepped out of the stall.
Walking to the sink, she saw Judd out of the corner of her eye standing at one of the urinals. Men didn't talk to each other at urinals, did they? She glanced into the mirror and barely recognized herself. She slowly washed her hands, keeping her gaze pinned on the sink, and waited for Judd to finish his business.
When she heard the distinct sound of a zipper being pulled, she turned off the faucet and grabbed two paper towels from the dispenser. She glanced up to locate the trash bin. Logan leaned against the exit door.
Storm nodded a greeting. "Get another beer?"
She took a step toward him, but he didn't move. "No. I'll get one after."
"After?" The word hung in the air for a long moment. "After what?"
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