“Beautiful,” he said into my ear before trailing his nose down the column of my neck.
“It is pretty,” I agreed.
“Not the view, you.” He bit down on that place where neck meets shoulder sending shivers of burgeoning excitement to swell and ache delightfully within me.
“Smooth talker.” I pinched the side of his thigh where my hand rested.
“Ouch, see if I ever give the lady a compliment again,” he said with mock agitation.
I turned around and clasped my hands around his neck, and kissed him. Nothing indecent, just a coming together of lips. I’d missed him throughout the day while he was at work, and this was the first chance I had to be close to him.
He groaned into my mouth and then pulled back and just stared. After a moment, he shook his head and smiled. I knew there was something he wanted to say to me, but right then, I knew it wasn’t going to be something I could handle.
“Let’s get a drink and a bite?”
His shoulders slumped, the moment broken. “Sure,” he finished, grabbing my hand and leading me over to the bar. We got drinks and then a waiter came by and offered us some Asian style nibbles. While we were talking and snacking, the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen made her way through the crowd. She was wearing a deep crimson, strapless cocktail dress that accentuated her large breasts perfectly. The hemline came up just above the knee on her incredibly long legs. She had black, thick hair that looked a lot like mine, but hers was curled in perfect loose spirals that wisped along her pearly skin perfectly. Bright red lips and smoky eye makeup completed her look. The woman was every man’s wet dream and every woman’s nightmare. Except mine. I wanted to be her!
“Gina,” Wes held out a hand towards the stunning woman. “I’d like you to meet my friend, Mia Saunders.” Her eyes widened and her lips curved into a smirk at the way he said ‘friend’.
She placed a small hand on Wes’s shoulder, looked up at him, and batted her eyelashes prettily before turning to me. Wes was completely enchanted by her. Hell, I was too. True beauty like hers didn’t come around too often.
“Gina DeLuca.” She offered her hand and I shook it. “Any friend of Wes’s is a friend of mine.” Her voice sounded as if she was singing a melody, only with a sultry female crooner type vibe. Once she shook my hand, she stood in front of me and brazenly pressed her chest against Wes’s. “I’m really looking forward to getting started on your story. It’s a fascinating premise.” Her hand came up and stroked his lapel. He stood there speechless staring down into the sexy woman’s eyes.
I almost felt like I was intruding on a private moment. I most certainly was not needed for this conversation. And in spite of what I’d promised myself, I was getting jealous. No, I didn’t have a claim on Wes officially, but I was his date for the next few days, dammit! I tried clearing my throat. It did nothing to break the spell she had over Wes.
“Maybe we could run some of the lines at my place sometime, you know, so I get a really good feel for the character.” She licked her lips and the core of heat within my gut turned white hot with rage. Who did this chick think she was?!
“Um, sure, yeah, that sounds uh…” Wes tried and that was it. I shoved her out of the way, politely interrupting.
“Sweetie, I’m starving. You ready to sit and eat?” I batted my own lashes, but I was pretty sure they didn’t have the same affect. Wes looked down at me, shook his head, and then a smile slipped across his lips. His eyes twinkled, and he pulled me to his side with a hand around my waist.
“Anything for Ms. Mia,” he said kissing my forehead. “Sorry, Gina, will you excuse us?”
I looked over at the pretty, black-haired vixen. Her mouth was gaping open like she couldn’t believe I’d butted in on her play when, really, she butted in on mine.
“Mia? Like in the movie?” she queried.
Wes looked over at me with that panty-dropping grin. “Wanted something to remember my girl by,” he said never looking at Gina. That gesture right there filled my heart with joy and sadness, knowing I would be leaving soon.
“Remember her? Where are you going?” she asked me directly, crossing her arms over her ample bosom.
I sucked in a breath and closed my eyes. “Seattle,” I said and caught it when Wes winced.
“Oh yeah, for what?”
“Work.” I had nothing better to say. It was the truth, but I wasn’t about to tell this chick that I was the hired help or that Wes was technically a free agent who might appreciate her blatant come-ons.
Gina rolled her eyes. “What type of work are you in?”
“Well, for this job I’ll be modeling for an artist over the next month while he paints me.”
Gina plastered on a fake smile. “And will you be wearing any clothing during these paintings?” She hit the nail right on the head.
“I think that’s enough, Gina. I’ll see you on set in a week. Come on Mia, let’s get some food and find a place to settle.” He gripped my hip and turned me around walking in the opposite direction of the pretty actress.
We got to a table way in the corner that had an even better view of the ocean at night. A server brought us new drinks and laid a plate of noshes between us. Once I took a bite and let the puffy pastry bite melt in my mouth, Wes pounced.
“So, Seattle?” I nodded not wanting to really get into it with him. “And was Gina right in her assumption?”
I shoved another bite of fishy goodness in my mouth and had to cut off a moan. Damn, this place was amazing.
“Was she, Mia? Are you going to be naked in front of this artist while he paints you?” Instead of responding, I shrugged. “It’s a simple question,” he said through clenched teeth.
“Maybe. He does some nudes, so it’s a possibility,” I said thinking that might be better than the absolute truth or outright lying.
Wes shook his head and took a long pull of his beer. “I need a real fucking drink.” He got up and stormed over to the bar. I sat back and thought about how this night was turning out. I was jealous of him, now he was jealous of some guy neither of us had even met. What the hell was happening?
When he came back, he had a tumbler full of amber colored liquid that made my stomach turn. Ever since that first night, he’d made an effort not to drink whiskey, and I appreciated him for it. Now though, he was drinking it like it was water.
“Why are you mad?”
He shook his head. “Not mad.” he clenched his teeth, a muscle in his jaw ticking away. “I think I know when you’re mad. We’ve been living together for the better part of a month.”
“Do you even want to do this?” he asked finally.
“It’s not a matter of whether I want to. I have to!” I whispered loudly leaning forward. He looked around.
“You don’t have to do shit. Everyone has a choice. You could stay.” And there it was. He definitely wanted me to stay even though he knew I couldn’t.
“Don’t…”
“Why not! Because it will make you feel something?” he sneered.
I stood up and walked away. Wes didn’t follow me.
***
The sound of glass shattering woke me from a dead sleep. I got up and tiptoed along the hallway keeping myself dead silent until I found Wes laughing with half his jacket on, the other half twisted around his hand as if he’d been trying to get it off.
I walked over to him and tugged on the jacket. That was a bad idea. Once he was free, he steamrolled me into the opposite wall, lips on my neck. He bit down hard, and I cried out trying to push him off me. “Mia, Mia, Mia, I want you so bad. Don’t want to lose you…please,” he begged but I had no idea what his slurred, drunken words really meant.
“Come on. Let’s get you to bed,” I said trying to adjust him. He walked a few steps then stopped and grabbed me to him. My back hit another wall. This time his hand cupped my breast, and he tweaked the nipple with expert fingers. I moaned.
“Fuck yeah, I love those little noises you make. Almost bet
ween a moan and a whimper. Makes my dick so hard.” And he wasn’t kidding as evidenced by his rock hard erection thrusting against my hip. Before I could move, he had one of my legs slung up and over one hip. Even in a drunken state, he knew exactly what he was doing, only his movements were a little bit sloppier, less coordinated.
“Wes, not here., We need to get you in bed.”
“You’ll come with me?” he pleaded, licking and biting along the column of my neck. “Stay with me in my bed.”
“Yeah sure, we’ll fuck in your bed this time,” I said leading him to his room. Once we got there, he turned around, gripped me by the hips and kissed me. Even tinged with whiskey, the one liquor I couldn’t stand, he tasted great.
“No, I want you to sleep with me. All night long. I want to wake up to you one time,” he begged leading me over to the bed. He sat, pulled down my panties, and I lifted up my camisole standing before him naked as the day I was born.
“I love this body.” His hand traced down from my clavicle, over my breast where he gave a little squeeze, down the curve of my waist, over my hip bone, and down my thigh. I shivered when he completed the journey on the other side.
“Just this once, stay all night. Let me wake to you,” he leaned forward and took a nipple into his mouth. Bolts of electricity roared through my limbs, pleasure being the first to light up, and quickly followed by lust and need.
“Just this once,” I repeated.
That night we made love for the second time. Desperate, clawing love. Somewhere in the middle of the night, Wes woke up sober and took me again. He told me he wanted to reenact everything we did so he’d be certain to remember it. I knew I’d never forget it.
***
I woke to Wes watching me sleep. His blond, shaggy hair fell over his eyes, and I pushed it to the side, wanting to see all of him in the beautiful morning light.
“Why are you an escort?” he asked. There was no judgment, no harshness to his words. Just the simple question as if it was something he’d been dying to know since day one. He probably had.
It was time. He deserved to know why I couldn’t give him more. I know he wanted me to stay, possibly live with him to see how being together for real could turn out. He knew it didn’t bother me that he was so busy, which was the reason he claimed he didn’t do relationships. I could take care of myself and had proven it. I wasn’t a clingy chick like most trophy bitches. But that was just it. I didn’t want to be a trophy wife, or girlfriend, for that matter. It was important that I find my own way, be my own person. And right now, I couldn’t do that because I had to help my dad.
Instead of skimming the truth or making up something plausible, I laid it out for him.
“My dad owes some really bad guys some money. A lot of money.”
“I have a lot of money,” he said quietly. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes at his admission. I turned towards him, put my hands in prayer pose, and tucked them under my cheek. He mimicked my pose.
“Yes, you do, but it’s your money. My dad got in bad with some loan sharks for gambling. I’m working to pay off that debt.”
“How much?”
“A million.”
He let out a slow breath. “I have a lot of expendable money, Mia. I could help you.”
I shook my head. Knowing the type of man Wes Channing was, I knew once he found out that my family was in trouble, he’d want to help. Only this was my problem, not his.
“I know you could, but I haven’t asked for your help.” It was imperative that I make it perfectly clear that this was my decision. I wasn’t a damsel in distress and he wasn’t a white knight, charging in to save the day. Fairytales don’t exist, especially for chicks from Vegas with a truckload of baggage.
“But what if I wanted to help?”
“You’re very kind, Wes.”
He shook his head and leaned onto his back. “No Mia, I’m not. I’m selfish. I don’t want you to go. I don’t want you to go pose nude for some rich artist in Seattle. I want you here with me, in my house, and in my bed. I’ll pay whatever price it takes to get that.”
All of the air left my lungs in a whoosh. “Do you love me, Wes?”
His gaze shot to mine. “Um,” he licked his lips and bit down on the plump flesh. Made me want to kiss it better. “I know I like you. I like you a lot.”
I smiled wide and traced his nose from the bridge down to the tip with one finger. “I like you too, Wes. A lot. But this is something I have to do. Not only for my dad, though that is the driving force, but for me, too. And you need no distractions. Your movie starts filming next week. You’re going to be directing for the first time…”
Wes ran a hand through his hair. “I know all those things. That doesn’t change that I want you here.”
“I know it doesn’t. And if I’m being honest, I don’t want to go, but I am going to leave. And you and me? We’re going to stay friends. Right?”
He sighed then pulled my body up and over his. I rested my arms on his chest then leaned my chin on his sternum. “Of course we are. If nothing else, you’re the best girlfriend I’ve ever had.”
My eyebrows shot up into my hairline. “I mean, you know. Best friend that’s a girl.”
“I understand,” I pecked him on the lips.
“So you’re leaving in two days, and there’s nothing I can do or say to make you stay?”
I shook my head and rested against his heart, letting the heavy thump lull me into a place that was half awake, half asleep. I knew in my heart of hearts that the only reason I’d stay, could stay, even consider staying, would be if he loved me. There was no denying that I was falling for him, but I held a part of me back, knowing that love was never supposed to be on the table. Not after falling in love with every man I’d ever slept with. This time with Wes, I’d guarded my heart so fiercely that he’d only gotten small bits and pieces of it along the way. The whole enchilada was still safe with me in full control.
“Where does that leave us then?” He slid his hands down to cup my ass cheeks, and he gave them a tight squeeze. It reminded me of how much I was going to miss his bedroom skills. Going back to a battery-operated boyfriend was not high on my list of things I wanted to do in Seattle. Like see the phallic space needle. That was high on the list.
“How about we leave it as friends?”
He grimaced. “Best friends?” I tried.
He lifted me up by the waist, centered his hard cock between my thighs, and I sank down onto it, pierced by the steely girth and length of him. Jesus, the man was well hung, and even better, he knew exactly how to use it.
“Benefits,” I whispered on a hard thrust, and he grinned.
“Best friends, with benefits,” I said then tipped my head back, anchored my hands on his muscled pecs and squeezed from within.
Wes’s body went tight. “Now you’re talking.” He pulled me up and slammed me down. We both cried out. “Now ride me.”
Chapter 9
“What do you want to do today?” Wes asked when I entered the breakfast area. To my surprise, he was cooking, flipping pancakes to be exact. I looked around scanning the area for Ms. Croft.
“Where’s Judi?”
“Gave her the day off. Since it’s your last day, I wanted the entire day alone with you.” He grinned then winked.
I sat on the barstool in front of the island where he was finishing up our breakfast. The pancakes weren’t burnt and smelled delicious. I stared in awe at the short stack. Butter dripped down the sides enticingly mixing in with the thick syrup. Then he squirted a can of whipped cream making some type of design on the top. With a flick of his wrist, he slid the plate in front of me. On the very top of the stack was a happy face.
“Happy cakes.” He waggled his eyebrows, and I laughed. This man was such a dichotomy. Work-a-holic, surfer, escort-hiring, Jeep-driving, rich man, who made pancakes with smiley faces on them. “What?” He leaned his elbows on the counter and tilted his head. His face had the morning stubble I ha
d gotten used to seeing, and adored. I used the tips of my fingers to skip across the prickly surface.
I shook my head and cut into the small stack of five perfectly round cakes. “You just surprise me. Every time I think I have you figured out, you sideswipe me with something else.”
Wes shrugged and dug into his own breakfast. “What can I say? I like to keep you guessing.” He smiled and I swore all those sappy chick flicks I tried to avoid were right. A good man could light up a room and make the world smaller, like something that could fit into the space where your entire focus lives.
“Back to your initial question,” I said around a mouth full of the best pancakes I’d ever eaten—including my own—in my entire life. “I’d like to take a ride on my bike,” I said, and he nodded.
“I’m game. Where we going?”
I grinned and flicked my unruly, morning bedhead hair over my shoulder. “Wherever the bike takes us. It’s not where we go. It’s the journey that counts.”
Wes came around, sat down, and then turned toward me. I faced him, thinking he was going to kiss me. He usually did first thing in the morning, but today was different. Everything about my last day felt so heavy, weighed down by the finality of it. Instead of a kiss, I got a dollop of whipped cream on my nose. “That was deep,” he said deadpan.
I shoved him. “Shut the fuck up!” He laughed.
“Come on, Mia. It’s not the ride, it’s the journey? Where did you come up with that shit? Tell me the truth. It was on the sticker when you bought the bike, right?”
“It’s true though!” I shook my head, and we commenced eating breakfast. Every so often he’d tag my side with his elbow. Not enough to hurt, just enough to let me know he was there and messing with me. If I was being honest with myself, I was going to miss Wes. More than I wanted to admit. A lot more.
***
“Jesus Christ,” Wes said as I entered the garage where my bike had been stored. His gaze was all over me. From the black leather jacket I wore over my Radiohead concert tank top, down my ass-hugging skinny jeans to my knee-high biker boots.
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