Lipstick Kisses : A Sexy, Standalone Contemporary Romance

by C. C. Cartwright

  We order dinner and wine.

  I find myself enjoying getting to know her better. Nikki is really easy to talk to. There’s no bullshit with her. She tells it to you straight, and she has a brain. I must say, it’s refreshing to have an intelligent conversation with an attractive female for once. In LA, it’s easy to find a beautiful girl, but a beautiful girl you can really talk to? That’s a different story.

  Nikki’s the whole package so far.

  She dabs her lips with her napkin. “Oh, I’m full now.”

  “You polished off a whole steak. I should think you would be, little lady.”

  “I might have room for dessert, though,” she says with a twinkle in her eyes.

  What kind of dessert does she mean?

  “So, is my face going to be plastered across every billboard in LA for your lipstick campaign?” I ask, leaning back in my chair.

  “We haven’t decided quite yet. Why, do you have a problem with that?”

  “Actually, I kinda do.”

  “Then why the hell are you modeling?” she asks with a grin.

  “Language, little lady. I don’t know. Print ads are fine with me, but I’m too shy for television, film and a huge billboard. God, that freaks me out a little,” I chuckle.

  “So are you trying to tell me you actually have some modesty behind those good looks of yours—not to mention your body?” She laughs. She’s laughing at me, but I’m happy to hear that she finds my looks and body attractive.

  “Hey, I’m not as vain as you seem to think I am. I’m just a humble boy from Montana, trying to make a livin’ in the big city, is all,” I say, sticking up for myself.

  I can’t wait to get back to her place, get inside, and then get inside, if you know what I mean.

  I have been mentally undressing her all evening, and my briefs are suffocating my manhood. He needs to come out for air and play tonight.

  Once I walk her to her door, I manage to get invited inside. I feel like a kid in a candy store, sitting on her sofa while she gets us something to drink. I can sense we’re both a little nervous.

  “I’m not sleeping with you on our third date,” Nikki says as she walks over to the sofa with our wine glasses.

  “Who’s counting?”

  “Hey, I believe in getting to know a person before I give myself to them,” she says confidently, like her mind will not be changed.

  “Oh, an old-fashioned girl.”

  “I prefer to call myself a respectable girl.”

  “That you are, darlin’,” I say, raising my glass to hers. But I still intend to get down to business.

  I put my glass down on the coffee table and then take her glass.

  My eyes are locked on hers the entire time. I can see her swallow hard.

  “Relax, Nikki. When was the last time you dated someone?” I dare to ask.

  “A few months ago, but it was nothing to write home about,” she says with a wave of her hand. I almost feel sorry for whoever the guy was. Bet she can eat you up and spit you out, if she wants to, but I’m willing to take my chances.

  I lean in and place my hand on her cheek, then cup her chin, pulling her toward me as I take her lips in a tender kiss. She responds with parted lips, and I deepen the kiss and she lets me. She’s right there with me as our tongues entwine. I lean her back on the sofa.

  Our breathing starts to pick up. She feels the passion and desire as much as I do. My pulse is coursing through my veins, and I’m hard as a rock.

  She lies all the way back on the sofa, and now I move to completely cover her with the length of my body. I press my rock hard shaft against her belly. Her eyes open and search my hooded eyes.

  “Chandler,” she whispers as she tries to push me off her.

  My lips crash down on hers again. My free hand palms her breast. I’ve got to kiss that enticing cleavage of hers as I make my way down her soft neck and venture down lower, kissing and sucking my way down to the pillows of soft flesh flowing over her neckline.

  She lets out a soft moan and arches her breasts into my lips like she can’t get enough. One leg snakes around my ass, and she’s now pulling my hard on down into her panties as her dress rides up.

  “God, Nikki.” I groan as my hand skims across her naked thigh. I’m desperate to be buried inside her warmth right this minute, and from the look of pure lust in her hooded eyes, I don’t think she’ll object.

  My hand finds its way between her soft folds, and she’s so wet for me.

  “Chandler, no. We have to stop,” she pants out breathlessly.

  Her body quivers into my hand as I lightly stroke her swollen bud.

  “Please, Chandler,” she moans.

  “Please what?” I ask.

  “Please stop,” she says, trying to close her legs, but I know she’s struggling with it. She wants it. I can sense how much her body wants it.

  I slide a finger inside her, and her breath hitches. She lets out a long, slow moan of pleasure.

  “You want me,” I whisper close to her ear so my breath tickles her senses. Her body shivers. I’ve been known to have that effect on women.

  “No, I can’t. I won’t. You’d better leave, Chandler,” she says, closing her legs and inching her way back up into a sitting position on the sofa.

  I’m losing this battle, but I won’t go down without a fight.

  She’s sitting up now on the sofa, and I get down on my knees before her.

  “I want to taste you,” I say boldly as I start to slide both hands up the skirt of her dress.

  We just stare at each other.

  I’m waiting for her to stop me. My eyes are challenging her to stop me from taking what I want from her.

  I know she’s usually in charge at the office.

  She needs to let me call the shots now.

  She’s debating it in her mind for these few seconds.

  Then her hands stop mine from continuing up her skirt.

  “No. You’re a naughty boy, Chandler Winslow. I won’t be had that easily. You’d better be on your way,” she says with a triumphant smile.

  I give up and stand, all six feet of me looming over her, and she looks a little disappointed that I didn’t try to persuade her. I start to walk toward the door, and she just sits there for a moment and watches me leave. Then she finally rises to her feet and comes to stand by the door.

  “Thank you for dinner, Chandler,” she says sweetly.

  I stop and turn toward her.

  “Goodnight,” I say, and I don’t move to kiss her.

  To be honest, I’m a little put out that she wouldn’t put out.

  I’m leaving her wondering.

  Chapter Five

  Nikki

  “How was your date with Mr. Hottie this weekend?” Kelsey asks the minute she sees me this morning in my office.

  “You know I don’t kiss and tell,” I reply, keeping my nose to the grindstone.

  She gets up and closes the door, then sits back down on the chair in front of me.

  “Come on, spill. I want details, please.”

  “What?” I look up and tuck my hair behind my ear.

  “You know what. How was he?”

  “First of all, we did not sleep together. I kicked him to the curb early.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes. I told you I wouldn’t sleep with him!”

  “Why on earth not? Didn’t you listen to a thing I told you last week? Live a little. This guy is so smoking hot. You’ve got to see what he’s packing in those jeans of his. And then see if he knows how to use it.” Kelsey roars with laughter.

  I think back to the bulge I saw the other evening. Yes, he’s packing all right.

  “I will say he is an unbelievable kisser.”

  “Really!” Kelsey lights up at the little morsel I share with her.

  “Yes, so good!”

  “And?”

  “And that’s all I’m at liberty to say.”

  “Damn, I was hoping for more details.” />
  “There’s nothing else to tell, so let’s get back to work, shall we?” I say pointedly to Kelsey, whom I love, but sometimes, I have to light a match under her ass to get her moving. Honestly, it’s near impossible to get a good assistant these days. But really, Kelsey has become more of a friend than an assistant at this point, so I do let a lot of things slide.

  “We need to meet with Stewart and decide which shots of Mr. Hottie and Bella we’re going to use for the Cherry campaign.”

  “Oh, right. Tell Stewart I want to meet in the conference room at eleven o’clock, then we can all go over the shots together.”

  We’re gathered in the conference room, pouring over the fabulous shots we got of Bella and Chandler for the ad campaign.

  “They make a stunning couple. You can feel their sexual chemistry in these pictures,” Stewart says out loud.

  Then, of course, it starts to make me wonder . . . have they slept together? Bella certainly seemed more than willing. I bet Chandler took her back to his bungalow and back to his bedroom, probably the night before he lured me out to dinner. The thought makes my stomach turn. Men. They’re such dogs.

  “Hey, Nikki? Did you hear a word I said?” Stewart asks.

  “No, I’m sorry. I was thinking about something else.”

  “I was asking which ones we should immediately weed out. I definitely don’t like this one.”

  I look closely at the one Stewart holds in his hand, and Bella is actually biting Chandler’s ear lobe.

  “I agree. Pass on that one. Too suggestive,” I agree, but I’m sickened inside by looking at it. It just affirms what I think went on between them.

  “Are we doing any billboards, or just magazines and newspapers this time?”

  “What do you think, Stewart?” In the back of my mind, I’m debating on the billboard. It might rocket Chandler to stardom, and then he won’t have time for me anymore.

  “Billboards are expensive right now. I say let’s just do print,” Stewart replies, and I’m happy with his decision.

  “I agree then, just print ads. I want to run a full-page in the Sunday New York Times, for sure.”

  “Noted,” Stewart says, making a note in his spiral notebook.

  “And then the usual beauty magazines. Be sure we are in Cosmopolitan this time,” I remind Stewart.

  “Noted.”

  We finish going through the photos and narrow it down to three images that will work well for the campaign.

  “Nikki, you know you have the MOCA Gala this weekend, on Saturday,” Kelsey reminds me.

  “Oh, damn. I’m really not in the mood to go.”

  “You have to. You’re such a big donor and supporter, and they’re expecting you.”

  “I know.”

  “And you should go with a date.”

  “Must I?”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t really feel like asking Jonathan. He’ll get the wrong idea.”

  “How about Chandler?”

  “Ugh, do I have to?”

  “This will be a great excuse for you to see him again this weekend.”

  “Kelsey, why are you playing matchmaker all of the sudden?”

  “I want to see you find someone. Is that such a crime?”

  “I appreciate you looking out for me, but—”

  “Call him,” Kelsey commands as she walks up to my desk and picks up the phone.

  “You are so pushy. Do you know that?”

  “I can be when I want to be. We both know that.”

  “Hi, Chandler,” I say once he picks up the phone.

  “Hey, Nikki, how are you? To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  “Well . . . I have this MOCA Gala coming up this weekend, on Saturday, and I was wondering if you would like to go with me?” I can’t believe I have to ask him on a date. Damn you, Kelsey. There’s a long pause, just like I did to him last time. I wait patiently for an answer. If he says no, I’m not going either.

  “Hmmm, sounds interesting.”

  “So is that a yes?”

  “Yes, I would be happy to go with you,” he finally says.

  “Do you have a suit or a tux?”

  “Negative on both counts.”

  “How did I know? All right, how about we go shopping together one day this week, and we can get you a suit?”

  “So you want to dress me up?”

  “Or you could go by yourself. It’s up to you.”

  “No, I’d like for you to come with me. That would be perfect.”

  “How about Wednesday afternoon? Let’s meet at Bloomingdales in Century City. I’m thinking Hugo Boss for you.”

  “All right, sounds like a plan.”

  Maybe I’ll buy myself something new as well.

  Wednesday is here, and I’m off to meet Chandler to go suit shopping. I’m actually looking forward to seeing him in the light of day, where we can keep our lust for each other in check, because that may be all this is.

  “Hey, gorgeous,” Chandler says as he gives me a tight embrace, his hands lingering on my waist.

  “Hey, handsome.”

  “It’s nice to see you,” he whispers in my ear, and already, I’m getting warm between my thighs.

  “You too,” I reply, gazing directly into those eyes of his. I give him a small smile. “Ok, let’s find the Hugo Boss suits. You would look fabulous in their cut and style.” Of course, who are we kidding? He would look great in anything.

  “May I help you?” an older sales lady asks, approaching us.

  “Yes, he needs a suit. I’m thinking Hugo Boss.”

  “This way,” she says, and we follow her.

  Chandler is eyeing a mannequin in the section we just walked into.

  “What do you think of this one?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow, and he looks so freaking adorable. Damn, this guy is such eye candy, I can’t even concentrate on the task at hand.

  “Yes, I like it. What size are you?” I ask Chandler, and he raises an eyebrow at me, making it into some kind of sexual innuendo, of course. “Stop it. You know what I mean,” I say, swatting him playfully on his chest.

  “Let me measure you,” the sales lady says. She proceeds to wrap a tape measure around his chest. “Let’s try this one, it should be your size.”

  “Can you find him a crisp white dress shirt to try on with it, please?” She nods and walks off.

  “Let’s browse the ties,” I say, eyeing him to follow me. He wraps his arm around my waist, and we walk over to men’s furnishings. He’s being quite affectionate, and I must say, I like it. He has such a sweet, endearing quality about him.

  “What do you think of this tie?” I ask, holding up a striped tie to his chest.

  “Makes no difference to me. I’m just your Ken doll to dress up,” he says, pulling me close and giving me a kiss on the lips.

  “I would like to tie you up with this tie,” he says huskily into my ear. All right. My panties have officially melted off my body.

  “You’re naughty, you know that?” I say saucily.

  “You ain’t seen nothing yet,” he says, piercing me with his eyes like he means business.

  “Are you ready? Your husband’s suit and dress shirts are in the dressing room this way.” She gestures.

  We both look at each other. “Oh, he’s not my husband,” I stammer out.

  “No, I’m just her escort. She’s dressing me up for an event she needs me for,” Chandler half-teases, and I turn bright red with embarrassment.

  “Chandler, stop it. She’ll think you’re my Gigolo or something.” I laugh.

  “I wish I was, gorgeous. Your Gigolo, who would love to service you on demand.” He lets out a sexy-as-hell, throaty laugh before heading into the dressing room.

  *****

  The night of the MOCA Gala has arrived. They have transformed the main exhibition area into a festive venue.

  Gorgeous tables are set, and there is a live band playing.

  Dinner is served, course after course, and
it’s all delicious gourmet faire. No expense was spared on having the best caterers in LA.

  The band starts playing Let’s Get It On by Marvin Gaye.

  “Shall we dance?” Chandler asks, leaning in close to me.

  “Yes, I would love to,” I reply.

  We find our way onto the crowded dance floor. The lights are dim. It sets the romantic and sultry mood, and this song is so sensual. Chandler pulls me in close, his leg spreading mine. I close my eyes as we sway to Marvin Gaye’s amazing voice. I can feel my heart beating in my chest. Being in Chandler’s arms has this effect on me.

  “Are you having a good time?” Chandler whispers into my ear.

  “Yes, thank you for being my date tonight,” I say.

  “My pleasure,” he says smoothly. I press up closer against him and can feel his stiff manhood pressing against me. “Can you feel what you do to me?”

  “Yes,” I breathe out.

  “I can’t wait to get you back to your place later,” he says.

  I’m aching for him tonight. This sensual music and him holding me so close leaves me aching between my legs for this man. I don’t think I can put it off much longer—the inevitable, us giving into our desire for each other. I don’t reply verbally. I just press myself harder into his steely shaft, and he gets my message. Yes, I am ready and willing tonight. I pull away slightly and give him the most seductive look. Immediately, his eyes become hooded.

  “Let’s get out of here,” he says huskily, and I melt ever so slightly inside. I want this man badly, and I believe the feeling is mutual.

  We make our way outside, and the valet runs to get my Maserati.

  Chandler pulls me in close, and I want to hump my gorgeous man right here and now. I’m so aroused from that heated slow dance. He snakes his arm around me, and I sneak a rub of his cock beneath his suit jacket.

  “Damn, girl, what’s gotten into you tonight?” he drawls out with a chuckle.

  “I’m hoping you will get into me.”

  He just gives me this killer look, like he loves it, but can’t believe I just said that. My car is brought around. He lets out a small laugh, with the sexiest grin, as he goes to open my door for me.

  Chandler drives us home in my Maserati, because I think I’ve had one too many to drive. He looks smoking hot behind the wheel of my car.