But my father hadn’t met my mother until he was nearly thirty, and there was no way in hell I was buying the story that he’d only been with nice girls all his life until he met the perfect one and married her. My sisters might have bought that story hook, line, and sinker, but I saw through that bullshit. He’d been left all that money and had private jets and expensive cars and he’d chosen to spend his time with librarians and nuns-in-training?
No way. Not buying it.
And yet, there he was singing the praises of this nice-girl nonsense with the rest of the Stone family choir almost as loudly as my mother. If I didn’t have to busy myself with finding this mythical nice girl everyone thought I should be with, I’d hire a private detective to dig up dirt on Tristan Stone so I could finally know for sure my hunch about his life before my mother was right.
Then again, that would only hurt her if she found out, and as big a dick as I could be, she was my mother and I loved her. Even if she had the most asinine ideas about my personal life.
I took another drink of the shitty Australian beer I’d chosen and grimaced as it slid down my throat. No good-looking woman to get lost in and no decent alcohol in front of me.
This night was turning out to be nothing but shit.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone sit down at the other end of the bar, where the middle-aged love birds had been before they headed up to their room. Maybe this night was looking up.
I turned on my stool and realized the person who’d come in was the girl from the photo shoot today. Not one of the models, though. Just the girl from the magazine. She wasn’t bad-looking, though. She had nice hair. Brown and long, it reminded me of how my mother used to wear hers when I was little.
She ordered a drink and sighed heavily, like it had been a long day for her, too. She had handled the models pretty expertly, and except for that meltdown by the one who face-planted into the sand halfway through the afternoon, things had gone pretty smoothly. I had to give her that. Some shoots would have gone off the rails with one of five models bawling her eyes out, but this girl had taken control of the situation and I barely had to deal with it.
As I watched her take the first sip of what looked like some vodka drink, I thought about talking to her. Hell, it would be better than just sitting here alone. But for the life of me, I couldn’t remember her name. Sunshine? Sunset?
Damnit. It was something having to do with nature, wasn’t it?
“You okay down there? You look like you’re having trouble,” she said with a chuckle.
I waved off her concern and shrugged. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a long day. Thought I’d stop in for a drink, but whatever the hell this is I’m drinking, it’s not doing it for me.”
She smiled sweetly and pointed to behind the bar. “They have other stuff. I’m sure they’ll be happy to give you something else.”
“Yeah. I should just do that. I don’t think this beer and I are good for one another.”
I waited for her to say something back, but she didn’t and I still couldn’t remember her damn name, so I stopped talking and took another sip of my disgusting beer. As it rolled over my taste buds, threatening to make me sick, a thought came to me.
This girl could work for my plan. She had the nice thing down pat. If only I could remember her name.
I ran through every damn nature name I could think of, sure it was something like that. Damnit! Why couldn’t she have a model name like Emily or Alexis?
Then it came to me. Summer! That was it.
Fighting the urge to blurt her name out, I stood up and moved down the bar to take the seat next to her. She looked at me like she couldn’t figure out why, but no matter. I had her name. That’s all I needed.
“What are you drinking?” I asked as I waved the bartender over toward us.
Confused, she looked at her glass and then back at me. “Moscow mule.”
“She’ll have another Moscow mule and I’ll have a Jameson and ginger.”
The bartender nodded and headed off to make our drinks while I thought of something to say. My usual style likely wouldn’t work so well with a nice girl. I tended to work on the principle that I’d gotten the go-ahead already so any conversation was simply a social lubricant to get the woman into bed. What I said didn’t really matter, and it usually showed in crass double entendres heavy with sexual connotations.
I had the feeling none of that would help me with Summer, so I had to think quick. What did nice girls like? Jesus. I hadn’t been with a nice girl since high school, and she wasn’t nice for long after I got to her in the library after school one Friday afternoon.
Maybe the weather. Yeah, why not? Everybody had something to say about the weather.
“We were lucky to have a good day for the shoot today.”
Literally the most boring thing to ever come out of my mouth.
Summer narrowed her eyes to a squint and gave me a pained smile. “Yeah, I guess. This time of year this area usually has pretty nice weather. I could probably give you chapter and verse on it since the magazine researched it extensively in preparation for the shoot.”
Oh, God. Please don’t.
Damn, I needed to change the subject to something interesting before she started giving me details on the fucking weather.
“Yeah. So, you coordinate all the model shoots for Belle? That’s a pretty big job, I’d think, right? The magazine’s taken off in the past couple years.”
Christ, this was like pulling teeth. Ladies and gentleman of the jury, this is why I never go after nice girls. Who the hell wants to talk about this boring shit when we could be getting down to business upstairs in my hotel suite?
Summer didn’t seem bored at all, though. She took a sip of her drink and then nodded. “I’m the assistant to the editor, so I get to do all sorts of jobs. One day I’m on location making sure a photo shoot goes smoothly, and the next day I’m setting up meetings for my boss in and around the city.”
I took a big gulp of my drink and held it in my mouth for a long moment before swallowing. “Sounds pretty important. I’m not sure I could do a desk job like that, but you seem to have a pretty good handle on it.”
I’d never had a conversation go so bad so quickly. Tipping my glass back, I drank down the rest of my Jameson and ginger and motioned to the bartender for another. Maybe if I was drunk this would work better.
“Well, I guess if I had your talent I wouldn’t have to do the desk job. But alas, I merely have my English degree from a well-respected school to pave the way for me.”
Although I couldn’t be sure, something in the way Summer said that made me think I’d just been insulted. She’d said I was talented, but none of the other words surrounding that seemed complimentary.
And then, before I could decide what she meant, she added, “I guess it doesn’t hurt to have the Stone name, either, now does it? My last name doesn’t carry as much weight, unfortunately, so I’m destined to have to work my way up the ladder of success.”
Okay. That was definitely not complimentary.
I wanted to tell her how much a pain in the ass it was to have the Stone name. How being compared to Tristan Stone all the damn time had gotten old by the time I reached fourth grade. That, yes, I did come from a family with connections that had helped me get my first few jobs in the industry, but that wasn’t how I’d gotten the job with Belle magazine.
However, I stopped myself. I had a plan here, and I couldn’t let my bruised ego get in the way. I needed this girl to help me, so if that meant taking a few shots in the process, so be it.
The bartender barely set down my drink in front of me before I downed half the glass to keep myself from making a stupid mistake. Better to keep my mouth busy with drinking than defending myself to Summer.
Once I’d told myself for the fifth time that I needed to keep my head with her, I smiled and gave the whole situation a nonchalant shrug. “It probably doesn’t hurt, but give me a little credit. You yourself said the shoo
t went great and your boss is going to love the pictures I took.”
She tried to speak, but her mouth dropped open. Shaking her head, she asked, “Were you spying on me when I was talking to my boss? That’s not cool.”
“No, no. I was getting my gear all packed up and heard you. It wasn’t like you were whispering. You were practically screaming it. You know, even though it’s Australia, phones still work the same as they do back in the States. It isn’t like you have to talk louder so your boss in New York can hear you.”
Summer’s eyes grew wide as I spoke, and I wasn’t sure she got my sense of humor. I made sure to finish with a smile, but for a few seconds, she just stared at me wide-eyed.
Finally, she said, “You’re quite the smartass, aren’t you, Ethan Stone?”
“Sometimes. Usually people don’t understand my humor, so I’m impressed you did. But my gut tells me you’re a smartass yourself, Summer…I don’t know your last name. What is it?”
She smiled and extended her hand. “I’m Summer Carmichael. From the Philadelphia Carmichaels,” she said in a snooty tone meant to make fun of her lack of status or my supposed status because of my family name.
Whichever she meant, it was funny and I laughed. “Nice to meet you, Summer Carmichael. Philadelphia, huh? My mother was born and raised right outside of Philly. Wait until I tell her I met another Pennsylvania girl just like her.”
Summer’s eyebrows shot up into her forehead. “A man who talks to his mother about the women he meets in bars. Now that’s a new one.”
“I’ll leave out where we met and focus on your being from PA. Moms don’t need to know all the sordid details.”
“I didn’t think we’d gotten to anything sordid yet,” Summer said with a wicked grin I’d expect from someone far less sweet.
Maybe she did have a wild side to her, after all. That could work, too. I definitely wasn’t against a nice girl in public and a freak in the sheets. All the better.
Chapter 4
Summer
What on earth was Ethan Stone doing sitting with me in the bar at the Richmont Hotel owned by his family? Why wasn’t he upstairs in his hotel room, probably a suite, having sex with some hot model? Or two?
I’d done a little research on him after the shoot ended, and I had to say I was impressed. He’d definitely gotten more than a few breaks due to his parents’ influence. Nina Stone’s sculptures and exhibitions were known throughout the art world, and Tristan Stone’s story was nothing less than heartbreaking until he’d met Ethan’s mother. A billionaire left without a family due to a plane crash, he’d had money but little else.
Until he met Nina.
Their story had touched my heart, and then when I read about their three children, I had to admit it was hard not to like the Stone family. They weren’t very different from my own family, except for the fact that they were ultra-rich. True, Tristan Stone had inherited his money, but he’d managed a successful business to make Stone Worldwide a giant around the globe. And he and his wife had raised three children they adored, according to all sources.
Tressa, one of Ethan’s sisters, took after her father and was soon to graduate with an MBA. Her future certainly held a position in the family business that made multi-billions a year in various ventures, including the hotel I was staying in. Ethan had taken after his mother artistically but chose photography over sculpture or painting. His parents had helped him get his break at first, but he’d made a name for himself over the past few years shooting models for magazines like Belle and seemed to be blessed with artistic talent just like his mother. He had another sister, Diana, but I strangely hadn’t been able to find much information at all on her.
And all of this explained nothing about why he sat with me, of all people, in a hotel bar. Or why he claimed he’d tell his mother about meeting me. All of it made bells go off in my suspicious brain.
A slow smile spread across his lips, showcasing how beautiful his mouth was. Straight white teeth and lips just the right fullness made me forget for a moment that I had no idea what this near-perfect stranger could want from me at that moment.
“Is everything okay, Summer?”
“Yeah. I’m fine,” I lied, feeling the effect of the two drinks I’d had.
“Okay. I was beginning to think I’d done something wrong.”
Damn. With every word, he seemed to get more charming by the second. No wonder there was a line of women who wanted to sleep with him long enough to stretch across Australia. Yeah, I found that out, too, while I was researching that afternoon.
“No, no. I think I better go. I have an early day tomorrow.”
I slid off the barstool and began to walk toward the door in a hurry. Tipsy Summer tended to do stupid things, and at that moment, all I wanted to do was press my lips against his to see if his mouth felt as good as it looked.
Behind me, I heard Ethan’s deep voice say, “Was it something I said?”
Turning around, I watched him slowly walk toward me like a wild animal stalking his prey. Why was he following me?
“No. It’s not that.”
“Well, what is it?” he asked as he stopped in front of me.
“I just need to get back to my room,” I lied.
God, this guy gave off a vibe that made me want to do things I shouldn’t. It was a combination of confidence and power that was more intoxicating than the Moscow mules I’d drunk. And it would probably give me a worse hangover if I let myself enjoy it.
“Let me escort you back to your room,” he said as the elevator doors opened and he followed me in.
We rode up to the second floor in silence, and as soon as the elevator doors opened, I rushed out and down the hall to my room. Never before had I wanted someone so badly and didn’t know why.
Well, it wasn’t hard to understand why. Ethan Stone was gorgeous. Great body, incredible looks, brown eyes I could get lost in. I’d always had a weakness for good-looking men, and it had never turned out well even once. And none of them were anywhere close to how stunning Ethan was.
Fumbling through my purse to find my room key, I felt him come up behind me. His presence was unmistakable. Finally, when I found the key, I looked up to see him leaning against the doorframe and smiling down at me.
“Everything okay?”
His deep voice washed over me, and I nodded, unable to answer without lying. I wasn’t okay, and I couldn’t blame two drinks on what I was feeling. I’d watched him all day and wanted him, but in a world full of models, I knew I didn’t stand a chance.
But now that he stood next to me at the entrance to my hotel room, I wondered if maybe I’d been wrong.
Brave from the alcohol coursing through my veins, I smiled. “Yeah. Everything’s fine.”
And then I opened the door and looked back at him. “Want to come in?”
The worst that could happen was he said no. As for the best that could happen, who knew?
Except for a wicked smile, Ethan didn’t answer my question and instead followed me into my hotel room. A million thoughts raced through my head. Why was he here? How did this happen? We’d just been having a drink together, and now he was standing there looking completely fuckable in my room.
Most of all, should I do what I’d fantasized about all day?
“So I hope you weren’t planning on going to sleep,” Ethan said, smiling in a way that said he knew exactly what I’d been thinking.
Then, as I stood there letting my gaze drift over his muscular body, he walked over to me and ran his fingertips up my arm. Goose bumps broke out across my skin in the wake of where he touched me as my nipples tightened in excitement.
What was I doing? I shouldn’t even have entertained the thought of sleeping with him. If Julia found out…
While I tried to talk myself out of sex with Ethan Stone, he dipped his head so his lips brushed against my ear and said in a low voice, “Why so quiet all of a sudden?”
Oh, God, his breath rolled across my skin, making me
weak with need. I struggled to answer him, muttering, “No reason.”
“Good. You know, I saw you watching me today.”
Something in the way he said that made me feel ashamed, and I pulled away, shaking my head. “Don’t.”
“What?” he asked as he reached out to take my hand in his. “Don’t do what?”
I didn’t want to be the only one in that room who had wanted this. I knew it was stupid, but to hear him say he saw me watching him made me feel pitiful because he hadn’t been watching me.
Unsure how to answer his question, I closed my eyes and wished I didn’t feel so insecure, but he’d been with model after model, so why was he there with me in my hotel room?
I felt him press his body to my back and I leaned against him instinctively, like everything inside me wanted to be closer to him. His mouth pushed lightly against the shell of my ear, sending a rush of desire through me.
“Tell me what you want, Summer.”
I wanted everything he offered. The beautiful outside, the confidence, the vibration of his voice against my skin, the feel of his hands on me. Everything.
No words seemed to exist in my brain, and when I opened my mouth to speak, all that came out was a soft moan. A sweet ache settled into my body and made its way to between my legs.
My eyes still closed, I reveled in how his strong hands felt as they slowly slid down my arms and he wove his fingers through mine. Squeezing them, he brought my left hand up to his mouth. For the first time, I felt his beautiful lips on me.
I wanted to feel them on every inch of my body.
Another tiny moan escaped from my throat as he moved his hand up to my neck. Encircling it, he lightly teased just under my ear before dragging his fingertips down to my collarbone and then back up again.
“Oh, God…”
He sunk his teeth into my earlobe just hard enough to send a ripple of pain through it as he slowly slipped my dress down my body, leaving me in just my panties and bra. Cupping my breasts, he slowly planted kisses over my shoulder while he gently pinched my nipples through the fabric.
Alphas of Seduction Page 36
