by Leisa Rayven
“No story. Statistics tell us that true love is a myth, and I haven’t seen anything to prove otherwise.”
He brings his gaze up to mine, and I can’t believe how beautiful his eyes are. Green-blue with a dark navy ring around the outside. I’ve never seen anything like them.
“Sounds reasonable, but I’m sensing there’s more to it. So, you can either level with me voluntarily, or I’ll be forced to get the information through less-than-gentlemanly means, and trust me when I say I would really enjoy that.”
Okay, now he’s just flat-out trying to destroy my composure, and I’m horrified it’s working.
“It’s really not that interesting,” I say, looking down at my hands. “Let’s just say that if I had a business card, it would read ‘Elissa Holt, Preparer of Men for Other Women.’”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I’ve had a handful of boyfriends, and they’ve all dumped me to be with someone else. Every one. It’s possible I’m cursed.”
I look up to see him watching me thoughtfully. “I see. And where did you meet these mentally incompetent jackasses?”
“In drama club,” I say with a laugh. “They were all actors, and they all left me for their leading ladies.”
“Ahh, that explains your earlier reaction. So now you think all actors are bastards?”
A ghost of past heartache twinges in my chest. “No. Just the ones I fall in love with. So now, I have a no-actor rule. It’s working out great so far.”
He’s silent for a moment, and then says, “Okay—I get it,” before turning to stare across the street.
We’re silent for a while, and when his shoulder brushes against mine, I close my eyes and sigh.
Okay, great. He’s gorgeous, arrogant, and spends hundreds of dollars on Shakespeare tickets—of course he’s an actor. And I’ve just shut down the possibility of anything happening between us.
I shake my head in frustration over yet again being drawn to exactly the type of man I’m trying to avoid.
Why couldn’t he be a policeman? Or a construction worker? Or a cowboy?
Wait, did I just wish for him to be a member of the Village People?
Liam’s shoulder brushes mine again. It makes me tingle, and I suspect he’s doing it on purpose. I really need to get out of here, because the longer I stay, the more tempted I am to say “screw it” to my sense of self-preservation and just give in to the dozens of horny fantasies currently running through my mind.
Before I can move, he says, “You’re leaving, aren’t you?”
I turn to him. “How did you know?”
“You’ve been tensing up for the past few minutes. I figured you were either going to bail or rip off my shirt. Considering my shirt is sadly still in one piece, I guess leaving won out.”
I give him a smile, grateful he’s not making this harder than it needs to be. “Very perceptive. I have a big day tomorrow. I really should get home and go to bed.”
He leans forward a little, and dammit, he’s looking at my lips again. “I have a bed downstairs. It would be much faster to go there.”
I concentrate on keeping my breathing even as he continues inching toward me. “Yes, but I need to get some rest, and I have a feeling if we go to your bed, there’d be none of that.”
He’s so close now, he has to turn his head so our noses don’t bump. “No. There really wouldn’t.”
God, he smells good. And I have zero doubt he’d taste good. But more than anything, I know for damn sure he’d feel so good, one kiss would be all it would take for him to have me completely under his spell. Considering I don’t have the time or inclination to be in the thrall of a devastatingly attractive actor right now, I lean away from him and order my disgruntled body to stand down.
“And that’s why I need to leave,” I say, trying to convince myself as well as him. “Plus, you lied when you said you wouldn’t try to seduce me.”
He frowns. “Is that what was happening? Because I swear it was the other way around.”
“All I did was look at you.”
“Exactly.”
With a resigned sigh, he jumps down from the ledge and holds his arms up for me. I put my hands on his shoulders, then he grips my waist as he slowly lowers me down.
Lord, he’s strong. He holds me like I weigh nothing, and though I’m short, I’m also curvy. It’s not like I’m a featherweight.
When I’m on my feet, he doesn’t let go of my waist; in fact, his fingers tighten and release in an uneven rhythm. And I don’t let go of his shoulders. They’re beautiful. Hard and round. More muscular than those of any other man I’ve ever been with.
“There’s still time for the shirt-ripping option,” Liam says quietly as he stares down at me. “I promise I won’t judge you.”
I have a moment of weakness and graze my fingers down his arms, over his triceps, elbows, and forearms. His skin is so hot and smooth, I’m tempted to find out what his stomach feels like under his T-shirt. But if I head in that direction, there’s no way I’m getting out of here tonight.
As it is, I’m so aroused I’m nearly panting. “Maybe next time.”
He clenches his jaw, and I notice that his breathing is a little faster than it was a few minutes ago. “I’ll keep you to that.”
Our trek downstairs is filled with tension, and when he drops the supplies back in his apartment, I have one last longing look at his perfect body next to his perfect bed before taking him up on his offer to walk me to the subway station.
A few minutes later, we reach the stairwell that leads beneath the street.
I stop on the corner to face him. “Well, here we are.” I’m trying to disguise how reluctant I am to go, but there’s a good chance I’m failing.
He nods, and I can see tension in his jaw. “I guess so. Tonight was … special. Meeting you. Touching you. All of it.” He cocks his head. “But I have a terrible feeling you’re not going to offer me your number, are you?”
If you weren’t an actor, hell yes. But I’m almost sure you are, so I won’t.
I shake my head. “But maybe I’ll see you around?”
He lets out a short laugh. “In this city? Unlikely.”
“Unless fate, right?”
I mean it to be a joke, but his expression turns serious. “Yeah. Fate.”
He stares for a few seconds, then shoves his hands into his pockets and gives me a wry smile. “Of course, you know where I live now. So if you ever feel a deep, spiritual need for a booty call, you can drop by anytime. Day or night. Or day and night if you’re feeling tense. Apart from pristine bed-making, I also specialize in mind-blowing erotic massage.”
I suppress a laugh as a ball of warmth blooms in my stomach. “I have no doubt. Sure. I’ll drop by.”
He shakes his head. “You really are a terrible actress, aren’t you. You can’t even fake it to spare my ego?”
“I predict your ego will be just fine. Good night, Liam Quinn.” I hold out my hand as he goes for a hug. Then we laugh and step back. When he offers his hand, I shake it.
Jesus, most awkward moment ever. It gets even more awkward when we stop smiling and neither one of us lets go. We just continue to stand there and shake hands.
Liam lets out a breath. “Okay, so … this is where you walk away.”
“Yeah. I’ll just … go.” I take a tentative step away from him, but he doesn’t let go of my hand.
My back hits the wall of the building behind me as Liam steps forward. He’s so tall and his shoulders are so broad, they block out the light. In the shadows, his expression looks ravenous. I’ve had men look at me with desire before, but nothing like this. I can feel him holding himself back. Every muscle is tense, yet his fingers are gentle as they caress mine.
“Elissa.” He cups my face and leans down. When our noses brush, I can’t help but grip the front of his T-shirt. “Maybe you don’t have to leave just yet.”
My blood pressure is getting higher every second. “I really
should.” My heart is thundering, roaring blood through my ears.
“Or maybe you can just stand there for a few minutes and let me do this.”
I stop breathing as he gently grazes his lips across mine.
Oh. Fuck.
No.
No, no, no.
Giant mistake.
My mind seizes. I’ve never felt lips so soft. He does it again, and my whole body flushes, inside and out.
“Is this okay?” he asks, his voice raspy.
I grip his T-shirt tighter. Not really.
I’ve tried to resist him all night, but now that I’ve felt his mouth, not wanting more is impossible.
“I’ve wanted to kiss you from the moment I saw you,” he whispers, and grazes my lips again. “You don’t even know how beautiful you are.”
I lay my hands flat against his chest as he kisses me again, deeper this time. Light suction. Sudden inhale.
Goddammit.
Reality melts away in a lusty haze, and I’m physically incapable of not kissing him back. I suck on his lips as I push up onto my toes. He grunts in response and presses against me, all hard-bodied and strong. When our mouths open and tongues slide, every last shred of resistance frays and snaps. His mouth is heaven, and I want to live there.
“Unbelievable,” he mutters before kissing me harder.
I’m gone. Lost in his touch, and smell, and sweet, sweet taste. There’s no coming back from this.
I once read an Oscar Wilde quote that said, “A kiss may ruin a human life.” It perplexed me, because up until now, I’d always thought kisses were sweet but unimportant. But this kiss? It’s ruined me. This is the type of kiss I never knew existed. It’s like falling and flying, all in the same moment.
His fingers slide into my hair, and I hook my hands around his shoulders, desperate to get closer. I feel people passing us and even hear a few mutter, “Get a room,” but I really don’t care.
Liam kisses me like he was born to do it. Like he invented the concept and does it better than any other man on the planet. His mouth moves over mine with instinctual ease, and before long, our hands are grasping and pushing under clothes.
When his hands slide under the back of my T-shirt, a warning bell in my brain reminds me I’m making out on the street. With an actor. A really hot, probably fickle actor.
How much further am I going to let this go before I come to my senses?
Large hands close around my butt, and then he pulls me tight against him. The feel of his erection pressing against my stomach makes me moan.
Okay, then. A little further, apparently.
I’m about half a second away from exploring exactly how hard he is when my common sense screams at me to stop.
Gasping, I hold up a hand and pull back. “Wait a minute.” I suck in a few quick lungfuls of air. “I need to ask you a question, and you have to give me a straight answer.”
He breathes in shallow pants, his pupils huge. “I know what you’re going to ask, and yes, I do have a condom. Also, I’d be more than happy to risk being arrested so I can fuck you against this wall.”
“That’s not it.”
“You sure? That’s the vibe I was getting.”
“I know you avoided this earlier, but … what do you do for a living?”
He flinches. A sick sense of dread settles in my stomach, because I know I’m not going to like the answer.
“So if I said I’m an actor, you’d, what? Walk away from this?”
“I’d have to. You know why.”
Please, please, please don’t say it. I really like you and want more, but not if you confirm my suspicions.
He sighs. “Okay, fine. I get why you’re hesitant. After Leanne, I figure I won’t be dating any brunettes from Jersey for a while.”
“So now imagine you dated Leanne three times in a row and she dumped you each time. Then another Leanne came along. Wouldn’t you feel like a dumb-ass if you went there again? I just can’t do it.”
I see pity in his expression when he cups my cheek. “I understand. And luckily, I can say without a hint of a lie that I’ve never set foot on a stage in my life. I work in construction with my dad. Have ever since I left school.”
For a moment, I swear I’ve heard incorrectly. “Wait a minute. You’re actually a … construction worker?”
“Yes.”
I stifle a laugh. “You don’t happen to have friends who are policemen, cowboys, and Native Americans, do you?”
His brows furrow. “No. Why?”
“Not important. Why didn’t you tell me this earlier? Maybe I would have ripped off your shirt on the roof after all.”
He shrugs. “My girlfriend just dumped me for being a broke blue-collar worker. I guess you’re not the only one who’s afraid of rejection.”
I feel myself beaming. “Well, Leanne’s an idiot. I couldn’t be happier that you’re a construction worker. Best job ever.”
“Seems to me if you were truly happy about it, you’d kiss me again.”
I rise on my toes and capture his mouth. He makes a noise in his throat that vibrates all the way through his body. Then, he presses me back against the wall and takes charge again. Lord, his mouth is talented. And what’s more, he tastes incredible. Milk and cookies is now my favorite flavor.
After a few more frantic minutes, I really can’t breathe, so I pull back and stroke his chest. “Okay, we could do this all night, but it’s almost three a.m., and I wasn’t lying about having a big day tomorrow.”
He leans his forehead against mine, and his breathing is tight. “What are you doing tomorrow? And please say it includes seeing me again.”
“I can’t. I’m stage-managing Romeo and Juliet for the Tribeca Shakespeare Festival and our Romeo auditions are tomorrow.”
For a few seconds he looks confused. Then he smiles and shakes his head. “That’s … well, that’s great. Romeo auditions. Important job. So … uh … how are they going to figure out who gets the role?”
“The director’s looking for a strong, passionate Romeo. Usually he’s played as a whiny boy, but she’s wants a man.”
He studies me for a few moments. “Sounds reasonable. Can I see you when you’re done?”
I pull him down for a soft kiss. “Maybe.”
He steps away from me and runs his fingers through his hair. “I’m going to take that as a ‘yes.’ Now, you should probably leave while I have the strength to let you go. But first, give me your phone.”
“What for?”
“Quick selfie to capture the moment.”
I reach into my pocket and hand my phone over. He blows out a breath and brings up the camera. “Come here.” He puts his arm around me and pulls me into his side. “Ready?”
He holds the phone out, but before I can look up into the lens, he pulls my face around and kisses me, long and slow. Through a surge of dizzying hormones, I’m vaguely aware of the shutter clicking in the background.
When he pulls back, he shows me the picture. I get hot just looking at it. We look amazing together. Like we belong in a million-dollar ad campaign instead of a selfie.
He kisses me once more. “So you don’t forget me while we’re apart.”
As if that’s even remotely possible.
He pushes my phone into my back pocket, and not so subtly grazes my butt in the process. “See you soon, Liss.”
No one’s ever called me Liss before. Lissa, yes, but not Liss. Coming from him, it’s perfect.
He turns to leave, but I grab his arm. “Wait, you don’t have my number.”
“You refused to give it to me, remember?”
“That’s when I thought you were an actor. Construction-worker Liam can have my phone number and address. Hell, you can have my social security number, too, if you want it.”
He smiles and leans down for a final soft kiss. “Don’t need it. I’ll find you again.” He steps back and walks away.
“You seem awfully sure about that,” I say to his back.
FOUR
AUDITION HELL
I rub my eyes.
It’s been a long-ass day. If I never hear another verse of iambic pentameter, it’ll be too soon. We’ve seen thirty-two Romeos today, and most of them had no clue what the hell they were doing. If auditions were people, this one would be Charlie Sheen. It was a disaster.
Beside me, our director, Miriam, is rubbing her temples.
“How?” she says, in a whiny tone. “In this massive city where every second waiter is a goddamn actor, how can we have zero serious Romeo candidates? I don’t understand.”
“Maybe we have to throw our net a little wider. Try some of the students at The Grove?”
“What about your brother?” Miriam asks. “I know he auditioned for Mercutio, but if I can’t find someone else to do Romeo, I may need to switch him around.”
“Oh, no,” I say as I shake my head. “Ethan doesn’t have a romantic bone in his body.” His track record with relationships is even worse than mine. “Plus, he despises Romeo. I think you’d have a fight on your hands there.”
Miriam groans. “Well, unless this final candidate blows me away, it may be a fight I’m willing to have.” She picks up the piece of paper in front of her. “Oh, God. This next kid has no agent and no experience. He doesn’t even have a headshot, for God’s sake.”
She slaps the paper back down onto the desk and sighs. “Go bring him in, would you? Might as well get it over with, so I can open a bottle of wine and drown my sorrows.”
I pat her on the back as I head toward the door. When I open it and look into the waiting room, there’s only one person there, and he’s not an actor.
“Liam?” How did he know where to find me?
He takes off his headphones and looks up at me. He’s even hotter in the daytime than he was last night. How is that possible?
“Hey, Liss.” He stands and walks over to me, and I don’t miss the way his gaze travels down the length of my body and back up. “I half expected not to find you today. Last night was so amazing, I started to believe I dreamt it.” He studies my face. “I’m glad to see you actually exist. And you’re even more beautiful than I remember.”