Ricochet (3 page)

that Matt wondered how anyone could have been

put together so well and still be human. He had jet-

black hair; tanned, golden skin; a perma-stubbled

jaw; and a pair of broad shoulders that looked

fantastic showcased in the tight tee shirts the show

liked to put him in. His long legs looked equally

good in the jeans his character habitually wore too.

His most beautiful feature was his liquid-green

eyes; they looked out of place with his tanned skin

and dark hair, but they had a depth and luminosity

that the camera loved.

He ran across the set, sank gracefully to his

knees on his mark at Daniel's feet, and looked up at

him through his thick eyelashes, instantly in

character.

"Hmmm… don't you look like the perfect

sub," Daniel commented, glancing at his script and

then down at Rick again.

"I know; I'd fuck me, for sure!" Rick winked,

and Matt rolled his eyes.

"Let's get started!" the director bellowed, and

Matt took his position and tried to get into

character as the rookie young field agent, Ben

Harris.

Ben came from a strict Lenkan family who

had disowned him because of his decision to join

the collar crime unit. They liked to keep their subs

sheltered and arrange jobs and marriages for them

inside their own community. An outcast from his

own people, Ben was always searching for a place

to belong.

Rick played Agent Alex Tanner, the wayward

sub that Chief Christie had tamed during the first

season of the show. He was a maverick ex-army

ranger, who'd received a dishonorable discharge

and was living on his wits on the streets when

Christie had seen something in him and recruited

him to work on the newly formed collar crime unit.

The unit was a specialist task force charged

with investigating crimes involving collars, in

cases ranging from domestic abuse and employee

harassment to international espionage. Alex was

famously naughty, getting into all kinds of scrapes

that earned him a punishment from the tough,

totally toppy Chief Christie every few episodes.

"So, what stupid stuff has Alex Tanner been

up to now?" Rick asked, glancing at the page in his

hand.

"Damn it, Rick - don't you even know which

scene we're filming?" Matt snapped, his nerves

frayed by the late start.

"As I'm on my knees, I'm guessing it's one

where Alex gets what he deserves. Again." Rick

grinned.

"If only life imitated art," Matt muttered under

his breath.

Rick shot him a wounded look. "Was there

something you wanted to say to me, Matty?"

"Yes! You waltz in here, hours late, and you

don't even know what we're filming. It's not just

Alex Tanner who deserves a punishment, you

idiot."

The room went silent, and everyone looked at

him. Matt bit on his lip and started counting down

from 1000 in his head, which usually calmed him.

"I know which scene we're filming, Matt,"

Rick said quietly.

"Good - so could we damn well start filming

it then!" the director yelled.

Rick was word perfect in his scene, which

made Matt feel terrible about his outburst. They

shot several takes, but each time he put in a

flawless performance.

Right at the end of the final take, Daniel

opened the prop file that was supposed to contain

their mission for the week, while Rick and Matt

looked over his shoulder at the contents as they'd

rehearsed…only to find those contents had been

replaced by a recent edition of
Show Scoop

magazine. The front cover showed a big photo of

Daniel, sitting bare-chested in a hot tub, under the

headline:
Hot Tops in Hot Tubs! Take a look

inside at our hot tub hotties!

Matt smothered a laugh, Rick kept a

studiously straight face, and Daniel delivered his

line without missing a beat. The director called

"cut", and Daniel immediately turned to Rick and

delivered a mock spanking with the rolled-up

magazine.

Everyone laughed, and Matt felt his bad mood

fading as it always did in the face of Rick's

practical jokes. Ever since the
Hot Tops in Hot

Tubs
edition had come out, Rick had been teasing

Daniel about it mercilessly. He'd bought a dozen

copies and it had become a running joke that he'd

place them strategically around the set for Daniel

to come across during filming. On one memorial

occasion, he'd pinned the picture of Daniel in the

hot tub on the noticeboard in the chief's office, and

nobody had even noticed until the episode aired.

Matt had no idea how Rick had managed to

smuggle the magazine into the file for the scene's

final take, but it had lifted the mood on set.

The crew dispersed for a coffee break, and

Rick ran over to where Matt was standing. "Hey,

buddy." He hit Matt playfully on the arm. "I'm

sorry I was late."

That was always the problem with Rick; it

was almost impossible to stay mad at him. Rick

could be exasperating but there wasn't an ounce of

malice in him.

"Am I forgiven? Say I am. Pleeasse!" He got

down on his knees, pressed his hands together in

supplication, and fluttered his dark eyelashes

outrageously.

Matt sighed. "You're forgiven."

"And am I still an idiot?" Rick asked, batting

his eyelashes even more.

"Oh, you're definitely an idiot." Matt rolled

his eyes, but he couldn't stop the little grin curving

his lips, and Rick was on his feet in an instant,

laughing. He slung a heavy arm around Matt's

shoulders, tucked him into a neck lock, and then

planted a big kiss on his hair.

"Yay! I hate it when you're mad at me, Matty.

Now… where's the cookie table? I'm starving. No

breakfast, and I expended waaaay too much energy

last night - and this morning! Look… concave." He

grabbed hold of the hem of his tee shirt, pulled it

up, and pointed at his ripped six-pack.

"Any excuse to show off how much you work

out," Matt said, laughing anyway because Rick's

good moods were always so infectious.

"You betcha!" Rick winked, running off

towards the cookie table.

"Hey!" Matt called after him. "Aren't you

forgetting something?"

"Hmmm?" Rick turned back, in the process of

cramming a giant chocolate chip cookie into his

mouth.

"Petra? She said she wanted to see you after

the scene."

"Doh!" Rick slapped the side of his own

head. "Thanks buddy! I dunno what I'd do without

you and your memory. I wish you could learn my

lines for me too!"

"Yeah, well, we all wish you could learn

your lines for you, instead of hiding them on crib

sheets around the set," Matt retorted, but Rick was

already halfway out of the door.

Matt watched him go, shaking his head. So

much drama, for so little point - that was Rick all

over.

He glanced over and saw that Daniel was

reading a book, as he often did during a break in

filming. With his bulging muscles and shaved head,

Daniel looked like the last person you'd want to

meet down a dark alley at night. Matt had been

scared of him for his first month on the show until

he'd realized that Daniel wasn't remotely like the

tough

sub

he'd

played

in

the

famous

Insubordination
movies, or the commanding Chief

Christie

on
Collar Crime
. People sometimes

mistook his aloofness for arrogance, especially as

he was such a big star, but Matt had soon figured

out that he was just very shy.

Matt considered going over and talking to

him, but he didn't want to interrupt Daniel's

reading, so he pulled out his cell phone instead and

saw that he'd missed a call from his dom, Emily.

He'd been dating her for about six months, and they

were good together. She was cool, calm and

collected, and he liked how smooth their

relationship was: no drama or bumps in the road.

She always did what she said she was going to do

and was where she said she'd be. He knew where

he was with her, and that was the way he liked it.

The sex was pleasant too. Not that she ever

managed to take him down, but he liked serving

her, and she liked being served. It was a perfectly

smooth arrangement that suited them both well. He

pressed for voicemail and listened to her message.

"Matt - it's Emily. I see you're in my diary for

this evening, so I'll pick you up at eight. Please

don't wear that red shirt; it does nothing for you.

Don't make me come up to the house to knock. Be

ready on the porch."

And that was that; all perfectly to the point,

which Emily always was, and which Matt liked…

so why did he feel like something was missing?

Rick loped into Petra's office, still eating his

cookie. Petra was a plump, attractive black

woman, several inches shorter than him but tough

as nails and easily able to out-top pretty much any

other dom in the room. She glared at him and didn't

offer him a seat; this didn't bode well.

"Rick, you're a screw up," she told him

bluntly.

"Aw, I'm not that bad. So I like a little fun -

who doesn't?" Rick flashed her his most disarming

smile.

"Look, I've been in the industry for years,

Rick, and I've seen actors as big and hot as you are

right now disappear without a trace. Too much

partying, too many drugs, too much alcohol…"

"I don't take drugs," Rick said, wounded.

"And I don't drink that much because…" He made

a wilting motion with his hand in the direction of

his groin. "Now, I'll admit I like partying - I like

getting attention from all the pretty subs - but can

you blame me? Before I was famous, I used to

have to work a lot harder to sweet-talk subs into

my bed, but now they practically fight for that

pleasure. How can I resist? They're so cute and

willing. All they want is for me to run my hands

over their sexy bodies, and I'm only human! You're

a dom, Petra - you must understand."

"Maybe you have a sex addiction," she

mused.

"Because I like subs? Show me a dom who

doesn't like subs!"

"There's a difference between liking them and

consuming them. You party like it's going out of

style, Rick, and I bet you never go home alone."

"Well, where's the fun in that?" Rick winked.

"So what if I sleep with a lot of subs? I get my

yearly STD vaccination; I'm not hurting anyone."

"Whatever. It's your life." Petra shrugged.

"But you don't fuck up my show. I've soft-pedaled

with you so far, Rick, because you're one of the

main reasons this show hit so big, but nobody's

indispensable."

"You're not going to fire me, are you?" Rick

asked, genuinely shaken.

Petra shook her head. "No, but I am going to

come down on you like a ton of bricks every time

you screw up, so I strongly suggest you don't go out

clubbing any more during filming. You can party

on hiatus."

"That's only two months of the year!"

"Then you'd better make the most of them."

Petra gave a sweet smile. "In addition…"

"There's more?" Rick asked, aghast.

"Yup." Petra fixed him with a stern look.

"You're not to be late, by so much as one second,

for the rest of the season. If you are, you'll go

straight to the discipline room and take licks. Hell,

I'll march you there myself."

"Aw, Petra!" Rick crossed his arms over his

chest and gave her a sulky little frown. She ignored

him.

"I've been reviewing your contract." Petra

waved her hand at a file on her desk. "I note that

there's no get out clause from corporal

punishment." Some stars had those written into

their contracts but not many, as those stars were

generally judged to be difficult, thinking

themselves bigger and better than everyone else.