by Melissa Blue
Weekend Lover Published by Melissa Blue
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2012 Melissa Blue
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold
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Dedication
To Kristy,
It goes without saying how much our friendship means to me, but I'm saying it anyway.
And it's before the dirtiest words I've written in public. (We both know I've said much dirtier
in person...) As irony would have it, this is a dedication to you.
Holla!
Chapter One
Nicole Harrison ignored the sudden warmth along her right arm. If she ignored the
person in the barstool next to her, he'd go away. Her day had started at too-goddamn-early in
the morning, and she had every intention of ending it with the shot of tequila in her hand.
The liquor would dull the ache in her arches enough to give off a low hum of pain, instead of
screaming at her. The last thing she wanted was flirtation or an indecent offer from some
horny man.
Out the corner of her eye Nicole could see one long, muscled leg stretched out in navy
blue slacks. That long leg was connected to a large, expensive shoe planted on the floor. The
other foot rested on the barstool's rung. From the neck down the man faced her. His posture
had all the earmarks of waiting her out. An irritated sigh forced its way out of her lips.
Ignoring him wasn't going to work. Nicole knocked back the shot. She had to use more
drastic measures. “Give me your best line. I can shoot you down and we can end this pick up
a woman at the bar bit.”
Most men, when faced with one of her blunt propositions, would have apologized and
backed away. Or call her a shitty name. This man let out a deep, rich laugh that dragged her
gaze to his. Her skin prickled with sexual awareness.
No wonder her peripheral view of him only went up to his neck. The careless way he
leaned one elbow on the wooden bartop couldn't diminish his height. He had enough bulk to
his tall frame to escape the kiss of death of being all limbs and elbows.
And . . . she really, really should adhere to her personal rule of behavior while in a hotel
on business: always be polite. As a publicity manager for Limelight, a PR boutique, someone
could recognize her. One day she could mouth off to a potential client and wouldn't that be
awkward?
Shit. She tipped her shot glass in hopes of a corner of liquid. Nope. She met the man's
blue eyes. Amusement darkened the steel-blue shade and she couldn't look away. Could he
guess she regretted the words? More than likely. With a face like his, women didn't send him
packing. Chiseled jaw line, sharp angles, and purely masculine from hairline to chin. Her
pulse skittered under the open appraisal of his gaze, and then he smiled. The action should
have been outlawed in every known universe.
“Have we met before?”
The heat of his frank assessment hadn't lessened, but Nicole laughed at the horrible
pick up. His smile widened to a grin. No doubt he knew the line for the cliché it was.
“You're a handsome looking bastard, so I'll bet that line works for you anyway.”
He rolled his shoulders in a shameless shrug. “I assumed you've heard it all. Might as
well spin a classic.”
Nicole sighed. Just her luck. A handsome and charming bastard. If she sent him
packing, another man would come along. Her uncharacteristic need for solitude with a stiff
drink would be interrupted again and again until she left. She was a woman, alone, at a bar in
an upscale hotel. Nicole had to face the fact she was the equivalent of the last fun-sized candy
bar in a dieter's cabinet.
Press junkets had filled her day, and with more to come in the next two, she'd wanted
one flipping moment of quiet. Normally, she'd be riding from the high and getting revved up
for tomorrow. Except her boss, Anna, had been breathing down her neck, pointing out any
missteps. Nicole was so close to getting the brass ring of directing manager, but this weekend
she'd started to feel the wear of the constant pressure. She needed to stay focused and rough
it through this momentary falter.
Warily, Nicole glanced down at her silent phone. It was a Friday night, and by now a
client or two should have called, needing some wheels greased to get into a hot and exclusive
club. She checked the bars on the phone and, yes, she had service.
She cast a fleeting look in the man's direction. He seemed affable enough and didn't
mind waiting for her final verdict. He had the ability to laugh at the whole single scene.
Flirting with him didn't involve losing focus, but taking a moment, a surprisingly free one,
without guilt or worry or stress.
She pursed her lips, getting control of the smile to appear serious in her judgment.
Damn hard to keep it in check because she wanted to laugh again. “A valiant effort.”
He made a noncommittal noise. “And?”
“Because you said it while trying not to laugh, you can stay.”
He shifted on the chair but left one foot on the floor. Her red heels dangled around the
second bar rung of her barstool. His hair, pitch black, was a little rumpled but he still
managed to perfect an image of sophisticated sexy.
She shook her head. “Model or actor?”
“I don't want to talk about work. I've spent all day dealing with my job, and what I want
is a drink with a pretty woman”
“Smooth way to slide in the compliment. Thank you.” Since Nicole didn't want to talk
about work either, she didn't mind the subtle boundary he cast out. “With that out of the way,
how's the weather for you?”
“Bitterly cold. I'm from L.A., which doesn't technically have winter. Chicago in
December is not for wussies.”
He wore a black dress shirt, sleeves pulled up over his forearms and the top three
buttons undone. No tie. He must have settled in somewhere warm, most likely this hotel, to
be so under-dressed for the weather. She'd chucked her gear in her room and came down to
the posh bar. Thankfully, all of her clients weren't under the same roof. Otherwise, she
wouldn't have had any time alone. Or alone with a man who made it impossible to look away.
She didn't miss the fact her breathing grew shallow whenever he smiled. Keep it light,
Nicole. “I was chancing fate wearing these.” She put out her foot. “If I hadn't been going from
the car to inside a warm building, I may have lost a toe or two.”
His brow rose as he tilted his head. Yes, his perusal started at her toes, but his gaze
drunk in the rest of her. A flush crept over her skin and her nipples beaded against the satin
red dress. It was the kind of gaze that didn't undress her, but lifted
her skirt to expose her
breasts and ass for easy access.
“That would've been a shame.” The line came out smooth as butter, and sincere. There
was no mistaking the flash of emotion behind his gaze—lust.
The same bothersome emotion burned in her breast bone, too. “You're good at that.”
“I try to be. There's a line between being complimentary and creepy.”
“You've perfected this art form.”
“We all have to have something we aspire to.”
She bit into her bottom lip, sighing again. He was keeping up with her quips and Nicole
suspected they could go on for hours without him losing a step. That was more appealing
than his face. She lived in the fast lane and many men, at this stage, got left behind in the
dust.
“Since it'd be rude for me to order a drink without getting you one too, what would you
like?”
She scoffed. “Yeah, you do that incredibly well. Come in, wow the estrogen with your
testosterone and the woman can't help but say yes. So for all of woman-kind, I'm saying no.
You can't buy me a drink.”
“Really?”
She hummed in assent. “I've already granted you squatter’s rights next to me. You might
get the wrong idea.”
“What would that be?” His laugh was as rich and deep as his voice.
A shiver danced down her spine at the sound, but she refused to revel in the sensation.
The wrong idea just might become too appealing. “That your con man smile actually works.
Whatever you have in mind, the answer is no and it will stay no. I don't have time for
momentary distractions.”
The wattage of the smile didn't dim. “Most people believe a moment is a second. It's a
single point in time. Do you know how much can change in a moment?”
Damn, she was charmed. “What?”
“Someone's reputation. Someone's beliefs. A clear goal. A single shift in a moment can
change anything.”
She eyed him, a little impressed. The man had smarts, too. “That's pretty deep for the
whole pick up bit.” He shrugged. Nicole considered him again. Damn. Damn. “I'll pay for the
drinks. Another shot of tequila, and then I'm done. I've got work in the morning.” She dug in
her clutch purse on the bar's top for a twenty and handed it to him.
“Me, too.” He took the money without protest. “I'm only here for the weekend, and then
it's back to L.A. for me.”
“Same here, but not L.A.”
He turned to order their drinks and the full confession hit her. What was she doing
telling a handsome stranger her plans for the weekend, as though they were coming to an
agreement? I won't be here for long. I've got to work in the morning. Not too much to drink
because...
Yeah, she felt lust, but that didn't mean anything. She felt lust for George Clooney.
Didn't mean she planned to hump him any time soon. Nicole narrowed her gaze when he
faced her again. She had to nip this attraction in the bud, because it was too easy to imagine
him lifting her dress and keeping up in the fast lane.
“I'm not looking for a hook up,” she said.
“Neither am I.”
He didn't sound completely against one. Not from the tone he used. A tone much like
her own, if Nicole thought hard about it. The idea took root in her mind. Something light and
frothy to ease all the pressure leaving her limbs stiff at the end of the work day. End. There
wasn't one, not really. Publicity, good publicity, had no final destination. Resting on one's
laurels didn't exist in her world.
Effortlessly, the man sowed the idea of sex with his quips, the smiles, and something as
innocent as their legs brushing against one another. Their limbs connected, his so warm
along hers. She would not have a one night stand with a stranger no matter how attractive or
appealing the idea was. It didn't matter that the idea of letting go for a few hours, instead of a
few minutes, sounded downright decadent. She had work in the morning, and he looked like
the type to keep her up until the crack of dawn.
He reached forward, placing a hand on the back of the barstool. A presumptive action
that drew her attention. She glared at the limb. A little rough but mostly refined. He didn't
work hard often. And because her job was about appearances, she noted how he claimed her
space. Claimed her. With a hand. A very male hand. A light dusting of hair climbed up his
forearm, a sinew of muscle on display from his grip on the chair. His leg touched hers again
and he didn't move it.
Her breathing deepened. A very masculine forearm. She had to work to keep the glare in
place when she met his gaze.
“You look nervous,” he said. “Want me to leave?”
Yes. Her nerves jumped, settling in her stomach and making it so hard to stick to the
plan of keeping things between them light. Of not being tempted by the idea of letting go.
Nicole glanced around the room, and more than one man moved their gaze from her
direction. “Hell no. Right now you're keeping the wolves at bay.”
A low groan rumbled from his chest, raising the hair on her arms. “I'm being used. How
tawdry.”
He talked a good game. Nicole could give him that. Unfortunately, his game sent her
heart racing with excitement and anticipation. “For some reason my bullshit radar is going
off. I don't think you mind being used by a woman.”
A languid and knowing smile spread across his face. “Depends on what she's using me
for.”
The bartender slid their drinks in front of them, and she wasted no time knocking hers
back. The faster Nicole was out of the bar and up in her room, the faster she could avoid
making a mistake. One that involved sweat, come and a bleary-eyed morning. It's the reason
she didn't bother with men and relationships anymore. They sucked up time and sometimes
good sense. She couldn't afford to lose either. Nicole was on the fast track. A night with this
man demanded slow and all her attention.
The smile was reeling her in any damn way. “Is that why you came over here? To be
used by me?”
“No, you looked lonely and like you could use a smile.”
Had she? “I've had a long day at work.” Many, many long days.
“I know the feeling.” No condemnation filled his voice. “I also chose to bother you
because the rest of the people in here look like they're on the prowl.”
The nervous titter in her stomach refused to go away. He was too close for common
sense to kick in. It was just a leg. One stinking leg brushing against hers each time either one
of them moved and her stomach had that jittering sensation one would expect to feel as a
teenager. Not as a grown woman.
“You're safe from me,” she said. Nicole would not consider what her mind kept trying to
wander to. This was a friendly nightcap with a man who was sexy as fuck. “I don't even know
your name.”
“Sebastian.”
She laughed, again, at the horribly obvious segue. “I was trying to give you the benefit of
the doubt, but now I'm convinced—you're hitting on me.”
Chapter Two
Sebastian Clark's intentions had started off good, above reproach. The woman had
looked lonely, tense. He'd intended to make her smile, buy her a drink and walk the hell
away. He had to get up buttfuck-early in the morning, but then she laughed. His ass became
rooted to the barstool, and then he touched her and the dumbest thing would have been
walking out of this bar without her.
“It may feel like I'm hitting on you...because I am.”
She played with the shot glass. “How many unsuspecting, lonely women have you
picked up in a bar and tried to sleep with? Because I think we've passed innocent
conversation a while back.”
“None actually. Not my thing.”
Her leg grew tense against his. Maybe she'd read him wrong and this was nothing but
polite, flirty conversation. He smiled in a way that let her know she'd been right. Nicole
chuckled, still charmed. “Bar hook ups aren't my thing either, but sex can be just sex.”
He nodded, conceding to the truth. “Until it gets awkward and complicated.”
“Ah.” Her head tilted back, and she began to nod. “The morning after. Or after the deed
is done, things change and you're considering jumping out the window to make an escape.”
“Exactly. I'd rather date and be clear it's not going anywhere.”
She gave him a dubious once over. “How does that work for you?”
He laughed at her insight. “Not well after the six month marker.”
He shifted on the barstool and her leg brushed his. The heat of her touch invaded his
space. Damn, a single touch, an innocent touch and he wanted her. It's why he hadn't stood
up and left for his room. Common sense told him picking up a woman in a bar who looked
lonely would end badly. No, he didn't get the clingy vibe from her, but that didn't matter.
He should be calling his clients to remind them not to get too trashed. It was Friday
night, and most of his clients would be in clubs doing their best to act like they didn't want
their pictures taken while having a wild night out. Yet, making sure the photographer
captured their good side.
Snapshot, the PR company Sebastian worked for, had sent him out to make sure his
clients fulfilled their obligations to go to each and every one of their press junkets. Almost
Christmas, his top actors had movies rolling out. Nothing as insane as summer blockbusters,
but close enough when he counted the charity events.
It's why his intentions had started off good. Sebastian needed sleep after the long day.
He’d wanted solitude and a stiff drink, but now he was too busy listening to what his cock
