Anita Lawless
About: Cherry Logan gets the irony of her situation all too well. She's a virgin who just inherited a sex shop. Thanks to a crappy practical joke played by her dead brother, she must now run said adult store for one year, with a gorgeous ex-rock star she hates. This can only end in scorching sexual adventures.
Excerpt: "You've got to be joking." I crossed my arms over my breasts, scowled at the former glam sensation sitting in the chair next to me. Then I glared at the executor. "This is ridiculous."
"Fucking right it is," Lenny muttered.
The executor cleared his throat, looked over the will once more. "Those are your brother's terms, Ms. Logan. You are to own the Purple Pleasure Dome, and live in the apartment above it, with Mr. McDougall, for one year."
"There is no way I can live with her for a year." Lenny blew a thatch of teased hair from his dark brown eyes.
I raised an eyebrow at him, met his look of contempt with one of my own. "It'll be a picnic for me, I'm sure." To the executor, I said, "What if I walk away, refuse to do this?"
He scanned the terms. "Then you forfeit the rights to your brother's Vavoom shares, also."
I frowned at him. "Excuse me?"
Lenny explained instead. "It's a vibrator your brother invented. It's worth millions. Damn shame I wasn't in on that with him, too."
"I don't believe I asked you," I snapped, catching his shrug in my peripheral.
Ignoring me, Lenny leaned forward, placing his long fingers on the desk. "What if I forfeit?"
The executor sighed. His expression grew tired. "Then you forfeit your investment in the Purple Pleasure Dome."
Lenny drummed the desk. His angular, handsome face grew taut as he appeared to consider this. "Apartment and all?"
Nodding, the executor folded his hands in front of him, placing them atop the blotter.
"Sonofabitch." Lenny sighed, gave me a dark scowl that turned his beauty ugly for a moment. Then he sat back in his chair and chewed a fingernail. "I can't believe that bastard did this to me."
I shot him a glare, wishing it really held daggers. "To you? I'm his sister."
He waved a non-committal hand at me, barely glanced my way. "Yeah, but you two didn't always get along. Doesn't count."
"Doesn't count? Bullshit!" I stood up tall, stretching to my full five-foot-four, jutting my tits out more than I meant to. Lenny had a good eyeful of pert, medium-sized boobs. He noticed I caught him staring, and gave a lecherous grin. I blushed. If we weren't in the executor's office, I'd have clocked him one.
"Please, Ms. Logan, sit down," the executor admonished, and Lenny snickered, adding to my embarrassment--and my desire to hit the bastard my dead brother once called best friend.
"So, let me get this straight," I said, after a deep, calming breath. "After one year, I can sell my half to Lenny, take my profit, and get away from this derelict?" I pointed.
Lenny shot the daggers this time, and muttered something under his breath I couldn't make out.
The executor nodded.
"Fine, let's get this over with," I said. "How bad can one year with," I looked Lenny up and down, "him be?
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