The Stars Trilogy Read Free Page B

He glanced at Taylor instead. “Do you mind?” he asked her as if he didn’t care, but he could feel his skin prickle, his muscles clenching with tension.
    Shit. Old habits die hard.
    Taylor’s eyes were riveted in one direction. “Oh, she’s so beautiful, Dare and she’s forty-three! It’s so unfair! Did she get a boob job?”
    He wondered if Taylor was still not happy with her expensive double Ds that contained all her earlier earnings as a bikini model. He would nearly drown in her boobs every time she was on top. Jeeez, women and their boob-size issues. “I wouldn’t know. We broke up almost a decade ago.”
    “She’s walking behind us now.” Taylor moved closer to him. Her fingers tightened on his arm.
    His first ex-wife did have this intimidating effect on lesser actors. Two Oscar best actress awards and countless similar trophies from other award-giving bodies had given her that revered status reserved only for the likes of Katherine Hepburn, Meryl Streep and Elizabeth Taylor. Tonight, she was nominated again, her 5th at the Oscars. She was a very prolific and critically acclaimed actress.
    “Dare…” came the husky voice from behind them.
    He slowly turned around to face his ex-wife.
    Taylor was right, Alana Christensen would give women twenty years her junior a run for their money in physical beauty. She didn’t look 43 at all, more like a woman in her late twenties, statuesque and very confident in her own skin. She was a walking seductress who had men falling at her feet ready to do her bidding.
    He was once a young man who blindly did all her bidding.
    Fuck. Helluva time to be dredging up long buried shit.
    Alana was looking at him with a hint of sadness in her famous, blue-violet eyes. It was shortly replaced by a radiant smile. “You’re looking gorgeous as always, Dare Montgomery,” she uttered in that legendary husky voice that inspired a new Rolling Stones song.
    “Not as gorgeous as you, Alana Christensen.” He smiled at her rakishly for the benefit of the press who were no doubt salivating for a good shot of him and Alana. They were once upon a time the king and queen of the red carpet.
    Alana walked closer to him, tall and magnificent as always, her aquamarine gown billowing behind her. Not minding the young woman in his arm, she leaned to whisper in his ear. “Shall we give them something to gossip about for a whole month?”
    “You sure your Abercrombie model boyfriend won’t mind?”
    “Who?” she deadpanned. She was known to date younger men, some young enough to be her sons.
    He grinned. “Never mind.” He leaned and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek. “Great to see you again, Alana. I’ll be rooting for you, of course.”
    Alana’s hand crept to the back of his head and went for his lips.
    Whoa! WTF is she doing? Maaan…shit…
    Totally taken aback, he could only stand there and let her have her way with him.
    She paused only to command, “Kiss me back.”
    The cams were blinding, the shouts of the fans and the press echoing like a cheering squad in a football stadium.
    This is mayhem.
    Alana’s lips were on him again.
    Okay…
    And they went at it, tongues and all.
    The press went plain berserk. Stunts like this happened at the Video Music Awards, not the Academy Awards. But two major A-listers doing it, one of them nominated for best actress, he’d guess the Oscar peeps would gladly look the other way. Alana had always been so provocative, always doing something out of the ordinary. She got her highs from being the center of attention.
    They were both grinning from ear to ear after the kiss. He should be nominated tonight for best actor, too. French-kissing his ex-wife for the benefit of the press required all his acting abilities. He was grateful he only had to see her during awards season.
    “Are you still in character? I have to say, Catleya can kiss as badass as her Kalashnikovs,” he said teasingly, referring to her movie character, Catleya, a hooker turned