by Ember Leigh
He gulped, trying to forget the memory of her kisses, her breath at his ear, the way she’d told him “So have I”, so breathless and honest. That moment had been haunting him, and it was the only thing that made him think maybe Paige really did have a soft spot for him in her heart somewhere. She’s putting up a front.
Josh pressed the button for the elevator, trying and failing to divert his thoughts from Paige. The woman was as stubborn as they came, and he would always be the enemy to her. Besides, what did he expect from her? If she decided she liked him, that she wanted to continue exploring their sexual connection, what then? You don’t need anything more than a pretty girl to tag along; you don’t have time in your life for a relationship, or for someone like Paige. Forget her.
A door opened and Paige stepped into the hallway, clad in a skimpy bikini with a towel slung over her shoulder. Josh’s heart fluttered in his chest.
She spotted him and immediately re-entered her room.
He grinned, loving her transparency. Let’s play a game.
The elevator doors slid open and he entered, pressing the Door Close button. Silence fell heavy around him. All he had to do was wait until she thought she’d outwitted him.
When the doors slid open several minutes later, a surprised Paige greeted him. He smiled wide. “Hey there. Going down?”
She sighed, watching him skeptically. “Yeah, I guess.” She stepped into the elevator and pushed the button for the main floor, positioning herself in the corner farthest from him. He couldn’t stop smiling—it was getting easier and easier to ruffle her feathers, to play around with her self-proclaimed hatred of Josh Lambert.
“What were you doing, waiting for me to go down?” Her eyes darted over to him then back to the elevator panel. “That is so weird.”
He laughed. “What’s weirder? Me being inside an elevator, or you running away from me when you see me?”
She didn’t respond. His fingers twitched involuntarily as he gobbled her up. Her thighs, thick yet shapely, gave way to what might be the most perfect ass he’d ever seen in his life, round and half-exposed in her bathing suit bottom. His cock stirred in his pants as he imagined what a handful felt like.
The silence was a brick wall as they descended. Josh intended to stick to his word; he’d let her suffer through this silence, which she had imposed, and just enjoy the view.
Paige sighed and turned to him, exasperated. “Why are you so quiet?”
He shrugged. “I’m riding in an elevator, Paige.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You’re acting strange.”
“No, I think you’re the one who’s acting strange.”
“You better not try to touch me or anything.”
“As you can see, I have not moved an inch.”
She gnawed at the inside of her lip. Something was flip-flopping inside her head, and he had an idea of what it was. “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”
“Strange you would mention that to me while I’m being respectful and maintaining my distance. Was that a Freudian slip on your behalf?”
“No, Josh, it was not a Freudian slip.” She repeated the words with distaste. “I’m reiterating our professional boundaries, so you know exactly where I stand.”
“Noted.” He let silence surround them once more.
When the doors opened to the lobby, Paige bolted down the hallway. He followed in her wake, smiling. She was baiting him, provoking the issue because she did want it, deep down, but was too stubborn to make the first move.
In the pool room, Gary made laps as Paige set her things down on a chair nearby. When Paige saw him moving toward the pool, she groaned loudly.
“Good to see you again too.” He kneeled at the edge of the pool, waiting for Gary to surface. He felt Paige’s eyes on him as she arranged her things, her curiosity palpable. His game plan was something of reverse psychology—imposing the distance would lead her right back into his arms.
Gary’s head emerged from beneath the water with theatrical sputtering. After he’d torn off his swim cap and spent a few moments rubbing his eyes, he spotted Josh. “Hey there, big guy.”
“I came to talk to you about some contractual things.” He swirled his fingers in the tepid water. “There’s some parts of Paige’s contract I want to discuss.”
“What did you say?” She ran over to them at the sound of her name.
“This is business between me and Gary.” Josh looked over at her, trying and failing to keep his eyes from settling on the dip between her breasts.
“But it involves me, so I deserve to hear it.”
“Fair enough. Listen if you want.” Turning to Gary, he said, “Maybe we can set a time to talk about it, since I don’t want to bother you while you’re swimming. But your client is disruptive and rude, and I was hoping we might be able to take a harder look at some of the bylines and come to a different agreement.”
Paige gasped. “Disruptive and rude?”
“Your client is also eavesdropping on our business meeting, so maybe you could address that with her as well,” He didn’t acknowledge Paige or her huffiness.
Gary laughed, looking between both of them. “Sure, Josh, let’s set up a time for tomorrow. Before the first run-through sound good? I’ll meet you in the breakfast room, and we can take it elsewhere.”
“Perfect.”
“I am not disruptive and rude,” Paige said. “I am perfectly pleasant and very nice. But when idiots come in and start messing with things that—”
“Like I said.” He smiled at her. “That was rude, and you tend to be disruptive. Isn’t this what you wanted?”
She clamped her mouth shut. “We’ll talk about it later.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.” He was positive he had her right where he wanted her.
As he pulled open the door, he remembered the gem from earlier. “By the way, you guys, it turns out Bridgette once interned at NYCBC. Why didn’t you ever mention that?”
Both Gary and Paige looked sharply at him, eyebrows knitted in confusion. “Are you kidding me?” Her astonishment echoed through the pool room.
“Oh God, was she one of those horrible interns a few years back?” Gary and Paige shared a horrified look. He smacked his hand against the water. “Remember the one who asked when she’d be able to sit in for you? God, we laughed for weeks. Could that have been Bridgette?”
“Well, the way we gave her shit for her princess streak, I wouldn’t be surprised if it was,” Paige said. “In fact, the more I think about it…it makes too much sense…”
Josh chuckled. “Interesting detail, right? Thought you’d like it.” He strutted the perimeter of the pool, whistling under his breath. He’d get the story sooner or later, but what really interested him was bringing Paige to him, by whatever means necessary. Whether it was gossip, contract talks, or sexual passion, he was eager to encourage any and all scenarios that would facilitate verbal—and physical—interaction.
“Would anyone here be opposed to me peeing in the pool?”
Paige laughed incredulously as she pulled her hair into a tiny ponytail on top of her head. “Gary! You’re not supposed to announce it before you do it. You just go.”
“Well, I haven’t yet. I just thought maybe I could save myself a trip to the toilet.” He harrumphed as he swam toward the ladder.
“Now you can’t pee in the pool with a clear conscience,” Josh said, grinning.
Gary pulled himself out of the pool with a groan. He whipped his towel around him and shuffled toward the door. “I’ll be back.”
Josh continued his slow saunter around the pool as the door shut behind Gary’s exit. Paige glanced at him every so often as she arranged and re-arranged her hair and belongings. He sat down in the empty chair beside her.
She arched a brow. “What?”
He shrugged, leaning his elbows onto his knees. “Nothing. Just hanging out at the pool.”
“You’re not even dressed for the pool.” She side-eyed him and adjusted her breas
ts in the bathing suit top. “You just came here to stare at me.”
“So? Can you think of a better idea for this evening?”
The snark dissolved from her face; his comment hit right where he intended. She might act like all she wanted was distance, but it was just a front until she convinced herself of it. From the looks of things, it didn’t take much to crumble the façade.
“A couple of them, actually.” She avoided his gaze, but turned her body toward him, opening her legs wider. So very Paige—demanding with her body what she couldn’t get her words to say.
“But professional boundaries,” Josh said, smoothing his palm over her knee.
“Those exist out there.” She jerked her head toward the hotel beyond the pool room. “In here, though…we don’t need to worry about that.”
His cock twitched in his pants; a sultry veil had enveloped her, her eyes fiery gemstones that threatened to cast a spell on him if he didn’t comply. Luckily, he knew exactly what she wanted.
“I’m glad we’re clear on the boundaries then,” he whispered, moving himself onto her chair. She draped her legs over his lap, hooking her arm around his neck. “Just so I know where I should overstep them.”
He slid his palm over her knee, and moved it along the creamy inside of her thigh. She watched him, tense and commanding, as his hand neared the sweet heat between her legs.
“Kiss me.” The words came out so soft he thought he’d imagined them. He caught her lips partway open, their kiss, desperate and fervent, echoing through the pool room. She made a small noise, grabbing a handful of his shirt and swung a leg behind his back, as if laying out a welcome mat.
“I need it,” she whispered, her voice nearly a growl. “Josh.”
Her desperation spoke to him, awakened the same hungry urges that had lain dormant within his veins. The mere sight of her sent his pulse racing, and the fact that nearly all their encounters led to a heated, illicit ending didn’t bode well. Or maybe it boded very well, depending on the end game.
And what is the end game? The question circled through his head innocently, a scrap of paper kicked loose by the wind. He didn’t know the answer—didn’t care to know right now either.
He fingered the waistline of her bathing suit bottoms, watched as her belly clenched in anticipation. Paige needed it, with a visceral intensity that Josh could feel in the air between them. He slipped his fingers beneath the fabric of her bottoms, found the slippery, juicy folds that drove him wild. He shivered through a kiss.
Paige bit her lip, resting her forehead against his as he tweaked and knocked her clit with his thumb and forefinger. She clenched her thighs, tightened her fist hold on his T-shirt. His cock swelled beneath his pants, reminding him of the unfortunate truth that shattered the haze of sensuality: Gary was on his way back. They had themselves in an awful, and obvious, predicament, one that would be best to keep hidden. For as long as possible.
But maybe they could steal just a few more seconds. He nuzzled her, looking for her lips. She kissed him and he dipped his middle finger into her juicy pussy, seeing stars behind his eyelids as he plunged as deep as he could go. She tensed, stifling a noise behind the kiss.
“You feel incredible,” he murmured into her ear. “Do you know all the different ways I want to taste you right now?”
She laughed, low and throaty, a lazy smile on her face. Her gaze slid up to him, then focused on something beyond his shoulder. The smile dropped from her face.
Josh withdrew his finger, turning to look behind him. Gary was on his way toward the poolroom, a distant shuffling figure that could only be him. He sighed softly, placing his hand over her knee.
“Time’s up.” He leaned in to kiss her, but she dodged it. Her face hardened when she looked at him. She moved her leg back to center and sat on the chair Josh had been in originally. The air shifted; confusion a slow pile around him.
“That was the last time.” Her eyes had gone matte; all the sparkling, desirous angles had completely disappeared.
He creased a brow. “You said that last time, too. But I shouldn’t have to remind you that it’s you who keeps asking for it.”
Her mouth formed a thin line. “I slipped up a couple of times, okay? But it’s over. For real.”
The door opened and Josh angled himself away from the entrance, placing his arm strategically to hide his obvious hard-on. Gary yawned as he entered the pool room.
“The toilets down here have T.V’s in them.” He draped his towel over a chair and walked toward a pool ladder. “Can you believe it? Suppose it takes the place of reading a good magazine when dropping the kids off, you know what I mean?”
Josh laughed, though confusion ran rampant inside him. Paige tossed Gary a smile, her face as easy as if nothing had happened in his absence.
As Gary splashed around a bit, Josh turned his attention back to Paige. “Tell me you don’t want it, then.”
She watched him, jaw clenched. “I’ll think about it.”
He lifted the corners of his lips into a smile. “I knew it.” He checked over his shoulder at the pool, where Gary practiced laps. “But fine. I’ll give you what you want. Whether it’s distance or a sweet, delicious orgasm…it’s yours.” He lifted a brow, loving the realization sweeping over her face.
His cock had softened enough to make his exit. He squeezed her knee and stood, calling out his goodbye to Gary as he left the pool room.
He’d be true to his word—whichever one she chose. But if she felt any inkling of what he felt on his end, there was no way in hell they’d be keeping themselves off each other anytime soon.
****
Something was ringing.
Paige opened one eye, connected the sound with the seashell phone by her bed, and launched an arm toward it. Bringing conch shell to ear, she rasped, “Hello?”
Josh’s voice shattered the hope it might be a lawyer from New York who had found the loophole in the contract. Until that happened, her only hope to get off the island was that he would really make good on his word about firing her for being disruptive and rude. “We need you on set immediately.”
“But I don’t have to be there for—” she squinted at the clock, struggling to piece together the information— “another hour and a half.”
“I need you to stand in for Bridgette.”
Gears started turning. Energy jolted through her. This wasn’t the nullified contract she’d been hoping for, but maybe it was the silver lining to the Hawaiian hell cloud. “Did she finally give up?”
He laughed softly. Delight rippled through her. “She’s sick.”
“And? That means she can’t work?”
The weighty silence that followed said what his words didn’t—Bridgette wasn’t exactly a veteran who could fake health when the cameras required it.
“Just get down here.” The line went dead.
Paige mashed her face into her pillow, allowing the surprise phone call to distill inside of her before she jumped to conclusions. Hell yeah, she’d be down there—and she’d do it all better and faster.
She headed toward the bathroom for her morning ritual—brush teeth, tousle hair, cold water on the face, pep talk in the mirror—then suited up in her standard workday attire: tight black skirt, and a tight cotton scoop-neck tank. Today’s shirt choice would be ruby red, for victory.
This was her chance to shine. She’d proven her worth in the newsroom; now it was time to show the audience she was meant for the spotlight. She’d have them crying out her name before too long, sending fan mail across the ocean to this tiny volcanic rock island so fast the charter flights wouldn’t be able to deliver it all.
One glimpse of what she had and the IBC execs would be tripping over themselves to correct their mistakes. She rocked back and forth on her heels as she awaited the elevator, pleased with the strange turn of events. Josh would be blown away, certainly, and part of his awe would have to do with the significant percentage increase of viewership and engagement, numbers that
would clearly outstrip Bridgette’s dismal and limited performance.
Paige hummed as she wandered toward set, fingers grazing broad leaves, looking out for her favorite flower that looked like an engorged red pinecone. Maybe once filming wrapped later that day and the crew bowed at her feet, she’d find a hotel worker to inquire about the flowers once and for all.
On set, she was ushered to makeup where David waited, powder brush poised in the air. He arched one half of his finely detailed unibrow when she walked in. “Early this morning? I was expecting Bridgette.”
She slid into the chair and his fingers tousled her hair, analyzing the style for the day. “She won’t be showing up. She’s sick, and I’m standing in.”
David laughed. “Are you sure she’s sick? Maybe she’s just embarrassed.”
“I’m beginning to think we’re the only ones who think that way.” She locked eyes with him in the mirror. “The ratings for the show have been decent. Doesn’t say much for the viewership, except that they like blonde girls with big boobs.”
“We are in America, after all.” He knocked his powder brush against the jar of foundation before he coated her face. “But still, I think once they get a taste of you, things will change. Especially once they get a load of this hair style I’m putting on you today.”
“Now this I can’t wait to see.” They were quiet as he applied eye makeup and then topped off her lips with a coat of gloss. He stepped behind her, assessing her hair in the mirror.
“Just think classic beauty mixed with suggestive woman of the night,” he said. “Here we go.”
David worked his magic as promised and within twenty minutes she was ready to go with a half-up do featuring a classy but stylish rooster comb. He blasted her with a final coat of hair spray, “I work magic, honey, but that heat out there will make you wilt faster than a pile of spinach,” and sent her on her way.
She emerged from the makeup trailer, squinting at the sunlight that seemed to have doubled while she’d been in makeup. A slight breeze brought cooler scents of salty water. Palms swayed in the distance, the ocean visible just beyond the property roared and sparkled in the sunlight.