Lipstick Kisses : A Sexy, Standalone Contemporary Romance

by C. C. Cartwright

  “Sloane, you don’t know me. I’m not good at relationships.”

  “I want to know you better, Justin,” Sloane says, and I watch the words roll off her lips. I move closer to her and hold her face in my hands. My lips take hers in a searing kiss. I’m finding it near impossible to resist this girl who has turned into one incredibly sensual woman. Her lips part, and her tongue coaxes me in. Damn. This girl may be a virgin, but she knows how to kiss. She’s driving me crazy with lust, judging by the rise in my jeans. I press my rigid manhood against her belly, pulling her in tight against my hardness.

  “Justin,” she whispers softly. Her breath hitches, and I know she’s getting hot and bothered by this kiss.

  “Dammit, Sloane, you’re impossible to resist.”

  “Don’t fight it anymore, Justin. Just let what happens happen. I want this. I want you,” she says, wrapping her hand around my stiffness through my jeans and giving it a light squeeze.

  “Sloane, don’t. Not now, not here. Come to the bonus room tonight after Kylie falls asleep. No matter how late it is, I’ll wait for you.”

  “I don’t know, Justin. What if someone catches us?”

  “We’ll be quiet,” I say with a wicked look in my eyes as my lips brush hers. “Say you’ll come to me.”

  “I can’t make any promises,” she murmurs with a twinkle in her eye that gives me hope.

  “At least come out for dinner with me tonight.”

  “Deal,” she agrees, and I breathe a sigh of relief that she’s not going out with the Italian playboy.

  We arrive early and put our name in at the Mission Ranch Inn. It’s Clint Eastwood’s Ranch resort, and you can see sheep grazing. Something about this place is special. I wanted to show it to Sloane. We take a seat out on the patio and order drinks.

  “I love the cute sheep. Look, there’s only one black one,” Sloane says in excitement. She’s so adorable. This girl has gotten under my skin. There’s such a sensual innocence about her that I find refreshing, very different from the girls I usually spend time with. “They have the life here, with an incredible view of the ocean.”

  “These sheep are the chosen few.”

  “I’ll say. Have you ever seen Clint Eastwood here?” Sloane asks expectantly.

  “Yes, once.”

  “Wow, how cool.”

  Our drinks arrive, and we relax and joke around with my sister and Scott. Kylie is flirting with Scott any chance she can get, but she’s barking up the wrong tree. Scott would never go for my kid sister. He’s too smart for that. Besides, I would have to beat the crap out of him if he even touched my sister.

  Our remote buzzer goes off, letting us know our table is ready. Once we’re led to our table, I pull out a chair for Sloane.

  “Why, thank you,” she says as I get to watch her cute ass sit down in the chair. I notice Scott do the same thing for Kylie, and she lights up at the attention.

  “I love it here. The view of the bluffs and the ocean are so serene and calming. So different from home.”

  “This is one of my favorite places to come every time we come up to Carmel.”

  “I can see why.”

  I wish Sloane and I were dining alone tonight. This is a romantic place. I’d love to stay in a suite here with Sloane. Where’s this all coming from? I find myself wanting to do special things with her, and we aren’t even together.

  *****

  The house is quiet, and I’m waiting impatiently.

  All I can hear is my heart thumping loudly in my chest.

  The anticipation is making my heart race.

  I’m lying down on the sofa upstairs in the bonus room.

  This is where I told Sloane to meet me as soon as my sister fell asleep.

  I poured two glasses of wine for us and brought a blanket from my room to keep us warm in the event she shows up.

  I stroke my hard on in my jeans.

  Damn, I hope she shows up to take care of my needs tonight.

  I hear her walk into the room. She stops dead in her tracks, staring at me with apprehension.

  “Come here,” I beckon her over to me.

  She lies on top of me, and our lips lock together while my hands rake through her long hair.

  She straddles me, rubbing against my steely shaft that is dying to come out and play—and find some relief.

  My hands reach to cup her breasts. She lets out a soft moan.

  “God, I want you,” I whisper in her ear.

  “You feel good pressed up against me,” she whispers back, gliding her sex against me.

  “I can make you feel a whole lot better,” I breathe as my hands guide her hips along my rigid shaft.

  I maneuver her so now she’s on her back. I lift up her cropped t-shirt to expose her incredible breasts. I take her ripe, pink nipple into my mouth and hungrily suck on it and then torture the other bud. Her hands run through my hair and her hips swivel into me. She wants it. Her body wants me. I trail kisses down her soft, taut belly, and I can’t wait to taste the nectar between her legs again. It’s all I can think about. I tug at the waistband of her pajama bottoms, and she lifts her hips.

  Mmm, her fragrance intoxicates me. I dive into her, lavishing her sensitive, swollen bud with my tongue. She tastes divinely sweet.

  She’s trying to suppress her moans of pleasure. We need to be careful that no one hears us in our throes of passion.

  “Justin,” she whispers as I slide two fingers into her tight channel, slick from her wetness.

  I crawl back up toward her face and settle myself between her legs.

  I still have on my boxers. I want to take her right now, but think better of it. I want our first time together to be private, where we don’t have to worry about someone walking in on us. Her hands start to tug at my waistband, and it takes every ounce of resolve I have to not plunder into her.

  “We’d better not—not here,” I whisper into the darkness.

  Her breath is ragged and so is mine, but we have to stop.

  “You’re right,” she agrees.

  We pry ourselves apart and go to our separate rooms to try and catch a few hours of sleep.

  I wake up before anyone else stirs this morning, and I’ve come to my senses.

  I’ve got to stop trying to control her. I must stop caring what she does and with whom, because I know I can’t give her what she wants, what she deserves—a man who will love her, who will cherish her mind, her body and her soul.

  Hell, I know myself well enough to realize that I could only deliver in one of those areas, cherishing that sinful body of hers.

  She walks into the kitchen this morning looking adorably rumpled in her pajamas, which hang loosely on her curves, but she’s still beautiful. My eyes catch a glimpse of the soft, smooth skin of her belly as her crop top rises. She runs a hand through her hair, and I wish it were my hand.

  I drop my head back down and continue to read my newspaper to distract myself from my lustful thoughts. I have to keep it in my pants. Only two more days of this torture of practically living together 24/7 under the same roof. The temptation of Sloane is driving me mad. It’s killing me.

  I toss and turn at night, knowing she’s just down the hall.

  She toasts herself a bagel and pours herself a cup of coffee.

  “Hey, Justin,” she says quietly, joining me at the breakfast table.

  “Good morning,” I reply, not even looking up from my paper.

  We sit in an awkward silence.

  “Where is everyone?” she asks.

  “Parents went for a walk. Scott is still sleeping.”

  “Kylie is dead to the world, too.”

  “Look, Sloane, I’m sorry about last night. I let the alcohol get the best of me. I’m sorry I came on to you so strong.”

  “Oh, great. So you’re sorry yet again, sorry it happened?” she asks, and I can hear the hurt in her voice—the anger too. She’s clenching her fists.

  “Yes. I need to control myself around you. I p
romise you as well as myself that I won’t let it happen again.”

  “Hmmm, whatever you say, Justin,” she says as if she doesn’t believe me.

  She finishes her breakfast and takes her plate to the sink.

  My eyes immediately watch her walk away, and I find myself admiring the shift of her hips and her being braless. Damn, she tempts me without even trying. Just two more days, I tell myself, just forty-eight more hours of blue ball torture.

  Kylie and Sloane come downstairs, ready to go to the car show, and Sloane literally steals my breath away.

  I can’t take my eyes off her.

  She has on a dark purple sleeveless dress, snug against her curves. She looks gorgeously sophisticated with her long, thick, wavy hair framing her perfectly made up face.

  Her lips are a glossy plum color, and damn, do I want to kiss them.

  Her skirt is short enough to show off her amazing pair of legs.

  She catches me staring at her, and I quickly avert my gaze.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Justin

  We arrive at the Concourse D’Elegance, and Sloane is definitely turning heads today.

  It’s chilly and windy on the Pebble Beach Golf course, which sits right on the water. Rows upon rows of beautifully restored vintage cars are on display for as far as the eye can see. Each entrant is hoping to walk away with a prestigious award.

  I watch Sloane and Kylie wind their way through the throngs of people and the automobile exhibits.

  The young and the old—no man is immune to Sloane’s subtle beauty.

  “Son, Sloane has grown up into quite the young lady, hasn’t she?” my father asks.

  We’re strolling together, admiring the stunning automobiles on display.

  “Yes, she has,” I reply, clearing my throat.

  “Tread lightly there, my boy. I’ve noticed the way you look at her now that she’s all grown up. She’s a sweet and well-poised young lady. Don’t you dare toy with her. I’m well aware of how you can be with the ladies, Justin. Keep it in your pants around her, understood?” my father says sternly.

  I heed his warning with a slight nod of my head, but I can’t meet his eyes.

  Little does he know how desperately I’ve been struggling to do just that—keep it in my pants. My big head knows he’s right and agrees with him, but tell that to my little head.

  I watch Sloane from a distance as she roams through the car show with my sister.

  A handsome and wealthy looking gentleman approaches her. I see her tilt her head back and laugh. What’s he saying to her? He’s trying to pick her up. There’s no doubt about it.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Scott asks, coming up next to me.

  He follows my gaze.

  “Oh, I see. You’re watching her. You’re like a stalker. You want her, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, and I can’t have her.”

  “Why not? She’s yours for the taking. She’s into you. I know you guys have been stealing moments together.”

  “That has to stop.”

  “Why deny yourself the pleasure?”

  “Let’s just say it’s complicated and leave it at that.”

  “She’s not the kind of girl you just mess around with. You do know that, right?”

  “Yes, I am well aware, and my own father just reminded me as well,” I grumble.

  “Here’s your problem, Justin. You want to have your cake and eat it too. A girl like Sloane needs to be treated right. Just like your sister, Kylie,” Scott says.

  “What does my sister have to do with any of this?” I ask.

  I stare at Scott, and his eyes cast down as he shuffles his feet.

  “Wait a minute—you don’t like my sister, do you?”

  “What if I said I did?” Scott says timidly.

  “No. No. No way, man. You leave Kylie alone,” I growl.

  “I know I should, and I will.”

  “Promise,” I say firmly.

  “Promise,” Scott sighs out, not sounding very convincing.

  “We’re both in trouble, aren’t we, bro? We’re a sad pair, hung up on girls who we should never be with, period. End of story, right?” I ask Scott.

  “Come on, let’s corral the girls and grab some lunch.”

  BMW hosts a deck overlooking the vintage automobiles, and we were lucky enough to be their invited guests for a delicious lunch. We flow through the buffet line and then find a table along the railing. We have a great view for people watching.

  “Are you having a good time?” I ask Sloane.

  “Yes. This is such an over-the-top, lavish exhibit of insanely stunning cars. I especially love the vintage ones. Many are restored so beautifully. And the people watching is so much fun, too,” she says, giggling with my sister.

  “It’s all very Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous,” I reply.

  “Hey, look, there goes Jay Leno. He looks like such a nice man, and he’s so funny too,” Kylie says.

  I notice her and Scott exchange glances.

  What’s going on between them? I’ve been so wrapped up in my own obsession with Sloane that I haven’t noticed what’s been going on right under my nose between my sister and Scott.

  “You’ll have to come with us every year now, Sloane,” Kylie says.

  I groan inside at the thought. I look at Sloane and she looks in my direction, but I can’t tell if her eyes are on me or not. She’s got these dark celebrity sunglasses on.

  Damn, Justin, you have it bad for this girl. I shake my head slightly, trying to shake some sense into this brain of mine. Stop staring at her. I manage to glance away and just people watch as the three of them talk about the automobiles that impressed them the most.

  “Justin, which car is your favorite?” Sloane asks, touching my hand softly to draw me into the conversation.

  Her touch goes straight below the belt, and something stirs—the little head, no doubt.

  I’m a pathetic and desperate man.

  Thank God we drive home tomorrow.

  *****

  Sloane sits behind me on the way home and I steal glances at her in the rearview mirror all the way home.

  Eventually, she falls asleep. She looks like an angel, with a serene expression on her face. I could watch her sleep all day.

  I’m quiet most of the drive home, lost in my fantasies of Sloane and me together every which way possible—in bed at night, waking up with her, or just hanging out with her and hearing her laugh.

  “Justin.” I finally hear Scott talking to me.

  “What?” I reply.

  “Did you hear a word I said?” he asks.

  “No.”

  “What’s up with you? Let’s stop and get something to eat.”

  I pull off the freeway and go through In-N-Out’s drive through, just outside Santa Barbara.

  After a couple of hours more on the road, we finally make it back into LA. I drop Sloane off last. Hoping for what, I don’t know exactly. I park my car in front of her building, and then I get out to help her get her stuff out of my trunk.

  “Thanks, Justin,” she says, taking her duffle bag.

  “Let me walk you in.” I make a last-ditch attempt at spending more time alone with her.

  “No, it’s not necessary. I’m good. See ya,” she says and then turns on her heel and walks into her apartment building without even a glance back at me.

  *****

  It’s been a couple of weeks since our Carmel trip, and numerous times throughout the day, I’ve had to stop myself from calling or texting her. I’ve tried to cease all communication with the girl.

  But I have to admit, it’s been tough.

  Take this past weekend, for example. I really should’ve taken some other girl out, a woman to satisfy my basic primal needs. I have several women who would’ve been more than happy to provide me with a night of pleasure. I should have, but I didn’t. I guess you could say I wasn’t in the mood.

  I call my sister, Kylie, to find out what she’s up t
o—maybe find out what her and Sloane are up to. As far as I can tell, Kylie is hanging with her USC friends. She doesn’t mention Sloane, and I don’t want to give myself away and ask her directly.

  I try to be subtle about it until Kylie flat out tells me, “In case you’re wondering what Sloane is up to, she’s been hanging out with her best guy friend from school.”

  Oh yeah, I remember the smug bastard. I met him once at her apartment. He was acting like the good friend. Study partner, my ass. He wants her. She just doesn’t know it yet. The guy was a silver spoon, woosie boy on the make. I couldn’t stand him.

  “Look, Justin, I know you have thing for her, and I already told you not to go there, didn’t I? Sloane is the sweetest, most pure person. Don’t you dare mess with her. Do you hear me?”

  Like I would listen to my baby sister.

  “Yeah, yeah. Where are you and your USC friends going tonight?” I ask.

  “Some new hot club in Hollywood called Spin,” she replies.

  “That place is a little wild. Be careful,” I warn her, as any good big brother would.

  “Don’t be such a prude, Justin. Actually, Sloane said she and Bryce might meet us there.”

  My ears and other parts of my body perk up at the sound of that, but I play it cool.

  “Talk to you later, Sis.”

  You know where I’m headed tonight.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Sloane

  Justin Harlow is a walking, talking contradiction.

  It’s absolutely maddening.

  I can’t keep my sanity for much longer.

  Up in Carmel, one minute, he’s all over me. The next minute, he’s pushing me away, apologizing and promising never to let it happen again.

  Honestly, I can’t take being around him another freaking minute. The week was a painful sort of torture. My heartstrings were being pulled in every direction.

  I need to give up this idealized dream of us ever being anything together.

  He’s just toying with you, Sloane.

  And time and time again, you let him.

  You’re one foolish and naïve girl to ever think he would ever be serious about you, ever want something real with you.