Hot In Here. Susan Lyons

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СКАЧАТЬ “She has more balls than all those guys put together. How about you, Rina?”

      “I’m torn. Ann’s man has class, and, Suze, you’re right about that gal’s nerve. And I really liked Jenny’s guy’s music and style, not to mention those amazing blue eyes. But I also liked the young guy with the curly dark hair. Didn’t you just want to eat him up?”

      “And no calories either,” Jenny said. Rina, who had a body-image problem, was obsessive about what she ate.

      “Mmm.” Rina ran her tongue around her lips, and then said, “On second thought, I’d rather he ate me up.”

      They were still laughing when there was a drumroll and the emcee said, “The moment we’ve all been waiting for!”

      The crowd turned, en masse, toward the stage.

      “Our twelve winners are…”

      She called the first name, and Rina’s curly-haired guy sauntered on stage to cheers—and catcalls that had to come from men in rival fire halls.

      “Definitely edible,” Ann said to Rina.

      The emcee called a few more names, and then…“Told you!” Suzanne said when the pole-dancing woman strode triumphantly on stage.

      “And I told you,” Ann crowed when the silver fox took his place alongside the others.

      Jenny was getting nervous. Not because there was any question in her mind who’d win, but because her moment was approaching. Could she seduce him? A hottie firefighter like him must have women throwing themselves at him every day. And especially tonight.

      Then she tossed back her hair. Hell, she was a tiny Asian girl with a shitload of attitude and a secret weapon. She’d stand out. Besides, she’d caught his bow tie and he’d winked at her.

      When ten men and one woman stood in a line on the stage, the emcee said, “And now, the grand winner, the hottest of the hot, Vancouver’s own Mr. February, Scott Jackman from Fire Hall Eleven!”

      The sax guy had tossed the tux vest back on but left it unbuttoned and he was grinning, looking pumped about his win.

      The audience was jumping up and down, cheering, whistling, clapping. Down at the front, near the stage, it was a sea of women and Jenny was swallowed up.

      But when the winners started to leave the stage, the crowd began to stretch, sigh, get ready to head out.

      “I need to go,” Ann said. “I have to get up early and head into the office.”

      “Of course you do,” Suzanne said. “It’s Saturday. What else would you do?”

      “I know, I have no life. You don’t have to remind me.” Ann’s hazel eyes darkened momentarily. Then her expression lightened. “At least I’ll have sexy dreams tonight.”

      “We all will,” Rina said.

      Jenny, nervously hoping for sex in more than just her dreams, said, “I have to find my way backstage and do some interviews.”

      “A tough job but someone has to do it,” Suzanne teased.

      “Need an assistant?” Rina asked hopefully.

      “There are some things a girl has to do on her own,” Jenny said. Like conduct the perfect seduction.

      Minutes later she was weaving her way through the milling horde. She ducked into a ladies’ room to freshen up and check her cell, which she’d turned off before the show began.

      She was in luck. No messages. She’d told her family she was working and would be home late, and no one had called to check up on her.

      When she made it backstage, her heart sank. A dozen women surrounded Scott Jackman and one, an extremely cute and curvy blonde, was wrapped around him, babbling about how fabulous he’d been.

      If that was the type he went for, Jenny was S.O.L.

      She stopped near the door, where she could watch and listen and not easily be seen. Casually she raised her camera, focused on the couple and the surrounding groupies and clicked.

      Mr. February was actually looking embarrassed, which was kind of cute and endearing.

      “Yeah, Lizzie,” he said, “it went okay and I owe you big-time.”

      Damn. She must be his girlfriend, and she’d inspired his performance. Crap, crap, crap. It looked like Jenny’d be relying on her vibrator after all.

      “And you will so pay up,” the blonde said cheerfully. Then, to Jenny’s surprise, she gave him a casual wave and headed for the exit.

      Was the girl insane, leaving her boyfriend with this pack of adoring—no, make that starving—bitches, slavering all over him?

      “See ya next week,” he called after her.

      Hmm. Jenny would’ve sworn, from the bulge in the guy’s pants up on stage, that he’d have been dying to get it on just like she was. So was he really going to wait until next week, or did he figure on heading home with one of his drooling fans?

      The latter, from the way he was ogling the tall, peroxided woman in front of him. Did Scott Jackman have a thing about blondes?

      Not if he really had tossed his bow tie to her.

      Even if he hadn’t, could he be persuaded away from blondes long enough to give Jenny what she needed so badly?

      Was it immoral to try if he already had a girlfriend?

      Whoa! She was assuming way too much. Lizzie could be a friend, maybe even a relative. She hadn’t seemed worried about leaving, and Scott obviously was getting ready to proposition the dye-job.

      If he was going to screw someone tonight, why the hell shouldn’t it be her? A modern Western woman went after what she wanted. Right?

      Muttering, “I can do this,” under her breath, she thrust out every single centimeter of her small breasts. Then, standing as tall as she could on one-inch heels, she strode toward Scott, scattering blondes, brunettes and redheads as she forged through them.

      She planted herself squarely in front of him and stared up, way up, to hook his blue gaze. “Jenny Yuen, Georgia Straight.” She waved her camera at him. “I’m doing a feature on the calendar competition, and you, Mr. Jackman, are my cover.”

      “Good choice,” one of the groupies said, and the others giggled.

      “I need an interview,” Jenny told him.

      A tiny girl had to either go for “cute” or be damned authoritative, and Jenny had both tricks in her arsenal. With the female flock, cute wasn’t going to cut it, so she scowled at the other women. “Now, and alone, if you don’t mind, ladies.”

      They gazed at her uncertainly and then glanced at Scott to see how he’d respond.

      He was staring down at Jenny, looking bemused.

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