by Leigh James
"Are you okay in there?" Kyle called.
He heard me. Just perfect.
"I'm good," I croaked, embarrassed beyond belief. I looked at the clock—six o'clock. "I'm gonna go for a run." And burn off some of this sexual energy before I burst into flames.
Kyle knocked on the door and poked his head through. "I'll come with you. I can't sleep for shit."
I nodded warily, wondering what he'd been dreaming about and hoping he couldn't read the guilty look on my face.
We ran in the Boston Commons, past the quiet swan boats, past the empty benches still covered in dew.
"Do you wanna go for a long run today?" Kyle asked.
"Uh-huh. I think that would be good. I seem to have some extra nervous energy."
He snorted. "If that's what you wanna call it."
I didn't ask him what he meant. Strategically.
We ran for about six miles, looping back to Newbury Street. I stopped on the corner near a coffee shop.
My breathing was ragged. "Well, that hurt." At least I had something to focus on other than my yearning and frustration.
Kyle put his hands on his hips and bent over. "I know." Sweat made his shirt cling to his back, and I could see every muscle. He stood back up and caught me looking at him.
"What," he said, not bothering to make it a question.
I just opened and closed my mouth, like a guppy at a loss for words.
He gave me that shit-eating grin and came toward me. "You enjoying the view, boss?" He put his hands on my hips and pulled me to him.
I tried to pull back. "I'm all sweaty. And don't call me boss."
He held me firmly in place, and it became more than just the run that created heat between us. I struggled to catch my breath.
"One of these days, Lowell Barton," he said and grazed his lips against mine. "One of these days you aren't going to pull away from me."
I just gulped.
He released me and looked at me darkly. "Let's get some coffee."
I nodded and followed him obediently. For once.
* * *
I called Tori a little while later, while Kyle was in the shower.
"What were you thinking?" I hissed as I stalked around the too-sexy hotel room. "This suite is a sex trap!"
"Oh, lighten up," Tori said, and I could just picture her twirling her hair. "It's not a sex trap. It's just the honeymoon suite."
"This. Is no. Honeymoon," I said through gritted teeth.
"Aren't you having at least a little fun?" Tori asked. "The pictures from this morning looked a little intense though…"
"What pictures?"
"The ones on XYZ. Didn't you see them?"
"Hold on." I ran for my tablet and fired it up, clicking quickly to the gossip website. We were on the front page. It was a shot from earlier this morning, with Kyle's hands on my hips. He was leaning over me, and his intense expression gave me the shivers all over again. "Huh."
"Huh?" Tori sounded confused. "You didn't know the photographer was there?"
"No." I tried to remember the people around us on the street. Things had been so intense between us at that moment, and I'd been so beat from our run, I hadn't even noticed anyone else.
"You didn't think there were any photographers around and you were looking at each other like that? You're so totally sleeping together!" Tori sounded triumphant.
"I'm not sleeping with him!" I fumed.
"It didn't just… slip in there? Even once?" She sounded crushed. "You can tell, me! I won't breathe a word!"
"No." My teeth were clamped together so hard, I was worried I would get lockjaw. "It didn't just slip in. I gotta go."
I clicked off my phone and stomped to the bathroom, still clutching my tablet. I knocked on the bathroom door while Kyle was in the shower.
"Come on in," he called.
He peered at me through the shower door, and I tried not to look at his full frontal. But I might have peeked a little…
The news was good. Very, very good. Or very, very bad, depending on how I looked at it.
I kept looking at it.
"I knew you'd come around," Kyle said seductively.
"I have not come around. I haven't come anywhere." I mentally slapped myself for using the word come.
Kyle laughed as I got redder, clutching the tablet until it almost shattered.
Oh yeah—the tablet.
"There is a reason for my visit," I said, keeping my eyes off of him and trying to sound dignified. I hit the screen, and the picture of us came up. The headline read: Trouble in Paradise?
"Someone followed us here." I held up the screen toward him, in front of my face. For better or for worse, part of him was dangling below the screen, so I could still get a pretty good look…
"Lowell?" He paused for a second. "Lowell, stop looking at my dick."
I moved the screen down so I couldn't see it anymore. "I wasn't," I lied. "And it's not like it's so big I can see it from here, anyway."
"Oh, but it is." There was a smirk in his voice.
I continued to hold the screen in front of my face and talk through it, ignoring his taunt and trying not to investigate his naked body further. "My point is that someone from XYZ followed us here. We need to be more careful. I don't want anyone tracing us back to your father."
I heard him turn off the water. A second later, his dripping hand pushed the tablet screen down from my face.
"Okay." He proceeded to towel-dry his hair as the rest of the water dripped off his glorious body onto the tiled floor.
I peered down. "Um…"
"You want something else?" he asked, grinning.
"No," I said, backing out of the room. "No, I do not."
I closed the door and flopped down on the bed, exhausted. I'd never lied so much as I had just then.
* * *
"Since we're being followed, we should take advantage of it." Kyle was dressed in camouflage shorts and a Hawaii T-shirt.
For some reason, I found that combination mouth-watering. I followed him with my eyes as he paced restlessly. "Okay."
He looked at me with mild surprise.
If we were going to go out and put on a show, that meant I got to feel his hands on me for the rest of the day. That meant kissing all over town. That meant all the things I wanted—well, most of the things I wanted—without having to feel conflicted and guilty about it. It would also give me the opportunity to work on him about going to work for Pierce. I hadn't had the heart to broach the topic yet this morning, but I needed to.
"I mean, we absolutely should." I stood eagerly. "We don't see your father again until tomorrow. There's no way they can trace us to him today."
He held out his hand to me, and I took it, excitement coursing through me. Mine for the day. I was surprised by the thread of sadness that laced the thought.
This was just for now, but I wanted more.
I wanted more, and I could never have it.
* * *
Either Boston was a romantic city, or it was just us. As the day progressed, I couldn't tell anymore, and it seemed to matter less and less.
First we went to breakfast at an outdoor cafe on Newbury Street. We had fresh orange juice, tomato-and-spinach eggs Benedict, and cheese-covered grits.
"I hope nobody gets a shot of this food," I said through a delicious mouthful. "Lucas'll have a fit."
"You ran six miles today." Kyle leaned over and kissed me quickly. Heat shot through me, and his eyes searched mine. "Remember?"
I nodded and leaned back over to kiss him again. I was taking this further than I should, but I couldn't help myself. He was only mine for right now. I pulled back and he was still looking at me the same way, his eyes searching mine.
"You going for an Oscar today?"
I shrugged. "Something like that. Maybe a Golden Globe."
After breakfast, we wandered the city streets with his arm draped over me. Going for a walk for him like this was an event. Every part of my body tingled be
cause I was next to him, his body pressed against mine. I'd never felt this before—this alive, aware of every second—and I didn't want it to end. I clung to him all day, knowing that when he wasn't next to me anymore, it would hurt.
We went to Faneuil Hall and watched the street performers, then we headed into the park and watched the children ride the carousel. Unlike LA, Boston didn't house many celebrities. No one seemed to recognize me, and I welcomed the anonymity. At one point we stopped at a tiny restaurant for raw oysters, clam chowder, and Bloody Marys.
Kyle threw his arm around me again as we sauntered back to the hotel that afternoon.
"This has been the perfect day. I don't want it to end," I said and leaned against him.
"Then let's not let it end, yet." His lips twitched into a smile. "Did you bring a dress?"
I nodded.
"Good. Then let's go take showers and get ready to go out. I'm taking my beautiful fake-girlfriend on a proper date."
Kyle
Elena had bought me a suit. I put it on, along with a lavender tie, feeling guilty that I'd kept it. I would send it back to her when we returned to LA, after I'd had it properly dry-cleaned.
I was starting to sound like an adult. It both scared and thrilled me.
Lowell stepped out of the bedroom a second later, her blond hair in waves over one shoulder. She was wearing an ice-blue dress that brought out her eyes and hugged every curve.
I sucked in a breath when I saw her. "You look gorgeous."
She blushed but smiled, clearly pleased. "And you look dashing. I've never seen you in a suit before." She came over and straightened my tie. "I like it. It's very Kyle 2.0."
I beamed and held out my arm. "Shall we?"
She giggled and took it, following me out to the elevator. "Where are we going?"
"To the most romantic restaurant in the city."
"Says who?" she asked.
"Says Boston Hub, and about fifteen other websites I checked." I grinned. "There's going to be lobster. And steak. And dancing."
"Dancing?" she asked, obviously horrified.
I grabbed her hand and twirled her in a circle in the elevator. "Trust me. You can handle it."
She tripped a little, and we both laughed.
When we got to the lobby floor, she looked at me. "You can't let me trip like that. It's embarrassing."
I put my arm around her and pulled her against me. "I've got you. Don't you worry."
Britta, the blond concierge, caught sight of us and waved. "I have a message for you guys!"
I raised my hand to her as I hustled Lo out the door. "When we get back!"
I didn't want anything to interfere with my night with Lowell. I didn't want a single interruption.
Evan drove us to the Financial District. We watched through the windows as the city lit up around us, the darkening sky a purplish-blue.
Lowell turned to me. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"
I stared at her gorgeous face. "You have no idea."
Her eyes widened for a second, then she shook her head and playfully punched my shoulder. "Once a player, always a player."
"What are you going to do when you finally figure out I'm not playing?"
She studied my face for a minute. I thought I saw a mixture of longing and hope on hers, but I could have been hoping for it, not seeing it.
"I don't know," she said finally.
I put my hand over hers. "You might want to figure it out."
* * *
The restaurant was located on the top floor of the highest building in Boston. We could see the whole city spread out below us. Lowell looked out the windows in delight, clutching my hand as she had at Disneyland, the same wonder on her face.
"This is so pretty," she gushed, taking in the view, then the restaurant itself.
The restaurant was set up with tables circling a dance floor. Couples glided over it as a big band played.
"It's fun, isn't it?"
We drank champagne, danced, and shared a lobster dinner. Lowell didn't trip once, so around midnight, we agreed to one last dance. Lowell had announced she was about to turn into a pumpkin if she didn't get to bed soon.
We swayed to the music, our bodies melded together on the dance floor. We'd been like this all day—pressed up against every inch of each other—and I wasn't sure how we would ever get back to normal. Whatever that was.
I tilted her chin up and leaned down to kiss her.
"Is there a photographer near us or something?" she asked, looking at me warily.
"Yes," I whispered. "Right behind you."
I leaned down and claimed her mouth, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her against me. My body told me how much I wanted her. Still, I didn't want to scare her away, and I wanted to do the right thing. So I pulled back.
"Why'd you do that?" she asked breathlessly.
"Because I thought I saw a photographer," I lied.
She shook her head. "No. Why'd you stop?" She leaned up and kissed me, making my heart race and my temples throb.
We stopped for a second, halted in the middle of the dance floor.
"You don't want me to stop?" I asked.
She shook her head, her eyes wide and urgent. "No. I don't."
We practically ran back to the hotel.
Lowell
I told myself, over and over, that I wasn't going to do it. But when he kissed me like that, and when he stopped—my body took over.
My body—the shameless sex-goddess.
This wasn't a good idea, but I no longer cared. With his mouth on me like that, I couldn't think straight. He pulled me against him in the car, and I clung to him, blocking out all rational thought.
Britta was waiting in the lobby when Kyle hustled me toward the elevator. We ignored her even when she raised her hand at us.
"I still have a message for you," she called.
"Text it to me," Kyle snapped.
He seemed completely single-minded as he rushed me to the elevator. No one else joined us, so he took the liberty of pinning me against the wall. He looked down at me intently.
"Do you want to do this?" His eyes were hooded. "Are you sure?"
I nodded bravely. "Yes."
That seemed to be all the encouragement he needed. "Good." He claimed my mouth hungrily, his tongue searching for mine as he ran his hands down my torso.
I shivered against him then threw all my self-control out the window. Good riddance. I put my hands on his fine ass and crushed him against me. Finally feeling him, all of him, pressed against me felt so good.
He hoisted my legs up around his waist and carried me out of the elevator. Somehow he managed to swipe our room key, and we burst through the door of the suite, our lips still crushed together. Then he stopped, placing me gently on the floor and closing the door.
He stalked toward me, his eyes fiery. "You have to mean this. You have to want this as much as me. I can't do it otherwise."
I nodded, shaky and unable to say anything. I just knew that I wanted him—I wanted him so much that nothing else made sense.
I wanted to show him how I felt. I kissed him deeply, our tongues connecting again. Electricity shot through me, and I ran my hand down his back, feeling all of the muscles on his glorious body. He lifted me again and carried me into the bedroom. He laid me gently, reverently, on the bed. My whole body was throbbing in anticipation.
"You have no idea how much I want you," he said, his voice hoarse.
"Yes, I do. I know exactly how much."
He ran his thumb across my cheek and leaned down to kiss me deeply. I grabbed his hand and placed it over my heart.
"I know this is wrong, but it doesn't feel wrong," I whispered breathlessly. I almost tore his coat as I ripped it off him. "It feels right."
"That's because it is right." He unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his gloriously enormous chest.
"It's still not a good idea," I whispered as my body was screamed at me to just shut the hell up.
; "Doing the right thing is always a good idea, babe. Now stop talking." He started to kiss me again then pulled back, hesitating. "Lowell, if you don't want to do this—"
I interrupted him by kissing him hard, letting my body tell him what I was too afraid to say. I want you. I want you more than I've ever wanted anything.
"I'll shut up if you shut up," I offered breathlessly.
"Deal," he said, grinning wickedly. He unzipped his pants. "At least until you scream my name."
His cock sprang out, enormous and thick and ready for me. Looking at it close up, I was pretty sure I would soon be screaming something.
I sat up and tentatively wrapped my fingers around him, stroking him slowly as he stepped out of his pants. He moaned and moved against my palm. I got bolder, gripping him more firmly. Then I knelt down and took the tip of him into my mouth, moaning when I tasted him.
"Holy fuck, Lowell," he said hotly as I swirled my tongue around his tip and continued to work my hands up and down his length.
He flexed his hips, and I could see that he'd closed his eyes, his head thrown back. I took all of him, to the base of his shaft, into my mouth. He moaned, and I moved my mouth up his cock, back to the tip, until he moaned again.
"Stop," he growled. "You're gonna make me come like that."
He lifted me and slowly unzipped my dress, stopping to kiss me. His tongue, probing and urgent, found mine. My dress fell to the floor, and he pulled back enough to look at me, stroking my lacy bra reverently.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered.
I just stared at him, every part of my body on fire, and didn't even chastise him for talking. His hands trailed down to my lace underwear. He twisted the bikini strap in his fingers and put his cock between my legs, rubbing against the lace. I heard myself moan in pleasure, but I no longer felt self-conscious. Holy fuck. I rubbed against him artlessly, amazed at how good he felt. How thick and hard.
Every wild dream I'd been having about him was coming true. I ran my hands down his chest to the divots near his hips before I kissed his chest, running my tongue along the lines of his pectoral muscles. If this was wrong, if I was going to pay for this—all those thoughts hurtled out the window. I officially no longer gave a fuck.