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LENGTH: Category
SENSUALITY: Spicy/Carnal

Cover art (c) Eliza Black 2004
ISBN 1-58608-141-1
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Rating: This story contains mature situations, graphic violence, strong language, explicit sex, and a women's love for multiple men. It is not intended for the faint of heart.

"Five Hearts! Last Call is written in the first person, told by Rayme from her point of view. She is a great heroine that comes across as a real person with problems that she has to overcome. I like that she is strong in her own right, and doesn't back down from a challenge. Maxim is a strong alpha male that is definitely attracted to her in a big way. There's another one that comes on to the scene, Jove, who is very powerful in his own right. These three are all strong willed, and the chemistry between the two men and Rayme burn up the pages. There is multiple partner sex, and the sex that does happen is steamy hot. I hope this is the beginning of a series, and if it is I can't wait for the next one. I always enjoy Mandy Roth's characters, because she makes the women so independent and strong. Definitely one for the keeper shelf!" Julia, The Romance Studio

LAST CALL

By

Mandy M. Roth

© copyright October 2004, Mandy M. Roth
Cover art by Eliza Black, © copyright October 2004
ISBN 1-58608-141-1
New Concepts Publishing
Lake Park, GA 31636
www.newconceptspublishing.com

This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.

Dedication:
Mom, you have a way of seeing the real me and I want to say thanks for not being freaked out by what you’ve found. I may be odd, but I’m yours and you’ve always embraced that.

Prologue

I dug my fingernails deep into Trevor’s shoulders. He cried out as he finished in me. He pulled out slowly, and kissed my neck as he took his condom off. I tried to make it seem like the experience had been equally as thrilling for me, but in truth, it hadn’t. He wasn’t a bad lover, on the contrary he was the best I’d ever had, but my feelings for him had changed. No longer the naïve girl from the Midwest, I didn’t hang my hopes and dreams on those of a man. If anything, Trevor had taught me that I could be on my own and make it.

My mind raced with thousands of ways to tell him that this just wasn’t working out. I thought about using the ‘we should just be friends bit’, but wondered if the irony would be lost on him. After all, he had been the one to use that on me five months earlier. It was in the height of his just needing space days and I’d been kicked aside--again. He hadn’t stayed away long. No, he’d been back in my bed within two weeks of breaking it off. Sowing his wild oats had taken less time than he’d thought, or so it had seemed. He claimed that he didn’t use our ‘time outs’ as free fuck moments with his model co-workers, but I wasn’t buying it. Normally an insatiable man, Trevor always seemed so sated after our tiny break ups.

At first, I thought that I couldn’t go on without him in my life. Now, I wondered if it wasn’t the other way around. He was the one who called all the time now. He was the one left wondering what I was doing when I didn’t answer my cell phone by the third ring. It felt good, to a point, to have the shoe on the other foot, but I couldn’t do it anymore, regardless of how sweet revenge really was.

"I love you, Rayme," Trevor murmured as he rolled over.

Patting his arm gently, I turned away from him. I couldn’t tell him that I loved him too, it would be a boldfaced lie, and I’m sure that he’d sense it. Once, I think I may have been close to loving him, now he provided more of a comfort zone for me than anything else. That wasn’t necessarily bad, just not what I was looking for in a man. I kept a steady stream of girlfriends around for that very thing. They required little to no maintenance and would rather die than fuck around on me. They also never freaked out about tampons in the trash, and that in itself was priceless.

I felt the tension of the day slip out of Trevor’s shoulders, and heard him snoring softly. Counting to one hundred, I climbed carefully out of his bed, and searched around his room for my clothing. I managed to find everything but my bra. I’d make do somehow. Besides, according to the pictures of the models on the magazine covers, going natural was all the rage.

Models, the very thought of Amazonian women with breast implants and four hundred dollars shoes made my blood boil. Every time I flipped through a magazine, I tried to guess how many of them my boyfriend had screwed. The numbers I came up with were staggering. Served me right for dating a male model. When he wasn’t primping, he was thinking about primping.

I dressed quietly next to the bed, every now and then glancing over at Trevor lying there, just to be sure he didn’t catch me. His slender body was so long that his feet just missed hanging off the end of the bed. His blonde head of hair covered his face enough that I couldn’t tell how soundly he was asleep. Creeping towards the door, I held my breath, not wanting to say good-bye to him, but not wanting to stay either. I wanted to play the coward and disappear. As wonderful as a girl-power moment sounded, I didn’t have the stomach to look him in the eye as I crushed his world like he’d done mine so many times before.

I wasn’t worried about what he’d think when he woke up in the morning. He knew that I had an early audition. This one was for a part that would require the blending of Thai dancing and ballet. I’d studied all forms of dance and felt most confident in my Eastern styles. The fact that my skin was olive never hurt when auditioning for parts like this. It did come into play when I’d been cast as a back up in a Swedish play. I spent the entire time powdered to the hills and ended up a sticky mess at the end of each show.

Yeah, there was nothing quite like keeping time when sweat soaked powder dripped into my eyes. After a rather nasty break out, I vowed never to do that again.

I’d been in the city now for nearly three years. My twenty-fourth birthday approached fast. In my mind, I’d already had myself headlining my own Broadway show by now. It’s not like I was getting any younger. My name wasn’t in lights, hell, it wasn’t even in small print on the playbill.

I’d wanted to be one of the greatest dancers New York had ever seen. No, that hadn’t happened. Still mainly in the chorus, I danced in the background and watched as someone else stole the spotlight. I told myself that as long as I was paid that it didn’t bother me--I lied. Lying to myself should have been a good indicator to get out of Dodge, but I’d never been one to take a hint.

"It’s all about who you know," my mother had said to me before I left for the city. I told her that she knew nothing about the world of dance and that I didn’t care that I went against her wishes. She’d refused to pay for college when I told her that I was studying performing arts, and she’d never once come to any of my shows. She insisted that I’d never make it as a ballerina, funny thing was, I never claimed to be one. I studied more modern forms of dance, but my mother would have to know me to know that.

My mother and I had never seen eye to eye. I was her mistake, her accidental pregnancy resulting from a chance meeting in a bar in New Mexico. Her short little stop to visit with a friend had left her with an eighteen year obligation--me. The only information she had to give me when I asked about my real father was that he was part Native American, or at least that’s what she thought he was. She had no name and couldn’t even tell me the city she’d been in at the time.

Yeah, she was a real help.

My mother married when I was seven. Barton was a good man. He treated me well. He treated his biological children better though. Who could blame him, they all matched. My mother with her head of sandy blonde hair and blue eyes, and Barton with his matching blue eyes and even blonder hair looked like the poster family for Mattel. Yes, they had produced two of the most beautiful girls ever, Cindy and Jessica. I called home to talk to them as much as I could. They were good girls. Cindy was heading into eighth grade, and Jessica was entering fifth. Our age differences prevented us from being too close. I felt more like their aunt than their sister, and I looked nothing like them. My light olive skin, dark brown eyes, and straight black hair were a far cry from their Californian surfer looks. Most people assumed that I was Italian or maybe Mexican when they saw me. I didn’t correct them--it was none of their business.

I locked Trevor’s door on my way out, and headed down the hallway. I checked my watch, and found that it was almost ten. I could still catch a taxi, and make it to bed by eleven if I was lucky. I didn’t want to blow this audition. I needed the work. My rent was due, and my roommate had just informed me that she was moving to Las Vegas to dance in a show there. I told her that she’d most likely end up in feathers and fishnet stockings, but she didn’t care, she’d had enough with the job market around here.

Pulling my sweatshirt over my head, I yanked it down tightly over my face. It was long enough to cover my hands, and I was happy about that, considering how cold the night was. I blew two quick breaths into my cupped hands and walked on. I knew that I’d have better luck catching a taxi down the block. Trevor lived tucked back in a ways, not too many cab drivers ventured down that far. They stayed where the tips were good.

Who could blame them?

I noticed the same group of teens that had been hanging out on the corner for the past few weeks walking towards me. The first time I’d seen them at night, I’d been a little nervous. Now, after a few weeks of walking past them, I was used to them. They stuck to themselves, and rarely moved off the street corner. They hadn’t bothered me and I hadn’t bothered them, it seemed like a good arrangement to me.

I watched my feet as I walked. It was an old habit that I’d been trying to break since my move to the city. Glanced around for signs of any yellow cabs, I found none. Of course, having one available when I needed one would have made my day a bit better and we couldn’t have that, could we? It would leave me with fewer things to complain about, thus putting a kink in my sarcastic wit.

I could feel the heavy weight of a pending thunderstorm all around me. The season was right for one and the bizarre shifts in temperature throughout the day had been making the weathermen go mad with severe storm warnings. He seemed to take great pride in breaking into every show I tried to watch.

I’d be lucky to find a cab. Oh, well, if all else failed, I’d make it to the subway and take that. Riding the subway was my least favorite way to get around the city. Nothing compared to that high of sitting next to a man who had never heard of a modern invention called a shower, or trying to play ‘guess that smell’ on the six.

I preferred walking, but female and alone at night in the city didn’t add up to anything good. My guess was that short of carrying a wad of hundred dollar bills, I was breaking every ‘stay safe’ rule around. A blinking sign would have cost me too much, so that was out of the question.

A smashed tin can flew past my head, and startled me. The hair on the back of my neck rose and adrenaline kicked in. Spinning around, I found myself surrounded by the group of teenagers from the corner. I tried to do a head count, but my nerves got the best of me and I lost count around twelve. None of them looked a day over eighteen, and all of them looked anxious.

Never a good mix.

I glanced behind me to see if there was anyone around to help me. No one was there--I was on my own.

Guess those ‘stay safe’ rules had some merit.

I turned to run, and was caught by two of the boys instantly. I struck out at one and he punched me in my stomach. Pain radiated through my abdomen and I screamed out as another one grab me by my long hair, and yanked me backwards. I clawed at one’s eyes, and ripped a handful of hair out of another. They screamed obscenities at me as they continued to try to pin me down. I knew if they managed to get me down and into the secluded alley, my chances of coming out of this alive were slim to none.

I kicked out and one of them grabbed hold of my foot and twisted it. Hot searing pain shot up through my leg. My mouth formed around a scream that remained lodged in my throat. The combination of terror and pain had stolen my voice. All that I had left were tears, and they flowed freely from me.

Another blow hit me in my face, and I had to spit the blood out that welled up in my mouth to keep from choking on it. The hot, coppery liquid continued to flow regardless of how many times I expelled it from me. In an instant, the attackers were on me, pinning me down on the ground and gathering around me. Stuck on my back, and at the mercy of gang members, I found my voice. It was faint, but there. With a force I didn’t know I possessed, I screamed out. A boot to the side of the head silenced me.

"Come on man, hurry up…we ain’t got all night!"

"No, man … we gotta do this right. He’ll check her ya know, he’ll want to make sure ... If you want in then...." Their words began to blend. I wasn’t able to make out what they were saying. I felt removed from myself. Fear took over and I could no longer think clearly.

A dark haired boy leaned over me, and tried to pull my sweatpants down. I kicked and hit at him in an attempt to keep him at arm’s length. Someone yanked my wrists back, and I lashed out at them with my good leg. My heart pounded so hard that I could hear it in my ears. The rhythmic thumpty-thump served to temporarily drown out the cries from the others. They’d been yelling to get things moving along faster. Apparently, my murder wasn’t going fast enough for them.

I heard someone screaming and prayed that they would bring help. Hope rose in me, and for a brief moment I thought that my savior had come, before the awful realization hit me that that someone screaming was only me.

I kept kicking my dancer strong legs out at them. Several of them flew off me, but not before they’d managed to rip my sweatshirt open. Not having a bra on left my breasts fully exposed to them. The shock of what was about to happen to me sunk in and, without thought, the need to survive prevailed. I kicked out again, and my leg was met with a thud from a wooden bat that appeared in one of the boys’ hands. There was a sickening thud, followed closely by something in my leg popping. White hot pain tore through my body and vomit rose in my throat.

Screams tore free from me as I cried out for help that never seemed to come. The bat boy took two more full wind-ups, then blows, before I felt nothing. As sick as it seemed, it was truly a blessing.

Someone’s fingers wrapped deep into my hair and slammed my head against the pavement. My vision blurred, and I could fell the inside of my head rattle. I tried to push myself up and off the ground, but I had nothing left in me. I heard something growling, and the boys pulled away from me. I struggled to get my swelling eyes to open. When I did, I wasn’t sure if I had a concussion or not, because I thought I saw one of the boys fly past me with his arm bent at a funny angle.

Growls sounded all around me. It was as if I’d been dropped into the center of a kennel at feeding time. One by one my attackers piled up before me, each broken and bruised, but from what I could gather, alive.

It was a shame, really.

Lifting my head, I felt a wave of nausea sweep over me. I tried to focus, but I couldn’t make sense of the furred creature I was seeing. Was it a dog? Was it a wolf? It was massive, bigger than any dog I’d ever seen. Its shiny amber coat reflected the dim streetlight and made it seem almost supernatural. For a few minutes, I was sure that it was a figment of my imagination, but it moved towards me. I drew in my breath, expecting it to be my last. The animal’s snout nuzzled my check, and I waited for it to go for my throat. It licked my forehead and nudged me gently.

My gaze fell onto its paws, and I saw blood. It’d been injured in the fight with the boys. I reached out towards it, and slid my hands softly over its wounds. The dizziness that had been threatening me moments before returned. I tried to hold onto it, and felt its paws shift into human hands under the weight of my fingers. Darkness swallowed me whole, and I welcomed it.