by Lisa Suzanne
“Good thing I didn’t have a no peek rule,” I murmur as I climb onto the table. I hear a little gasp from across the room, and I can’t help my wide smile as I stick my face in the head hole and pull the sheet up over my body.
She doesn’t say anything.
I open my eyes and stare down at the floor.
I don’t turn my head. That would be a violation of the one thing she requested, and I’m a gentleman...most of the time. When she wants me to be. If she wants the beast in bed, though, I’ll happily oblige.
My dick is still hard and it’s not the most comfortable to be laying on top of the steel rod, but I don’t have much choice.
And then I see her toes as she moves toward her own table. Toes painted a bright shade of neon pink, perfectly polished as though she just had them done. Something about seeing her toes feels both intimate and indecent, and my chest ripples with some unfamiliar feeling.
I push it away.
No white robe sways around her ankles, which means it’s off.
The woman who has consumed my thoughts since she interrupted a very important session of scrolling my phone in a bar by myself last night is naked and in the same room as me.
My dick hardens even more painfully. I wish I would’ve left my boxers on.
It takes every ounce of my willpower not to lift my head for one little peek.
My mind races with possibilities. If her toes are neon pink, she’s definitely sporting the black bra and panty set.
I blow out a breath. Is this really what a massage is like? Because this is about the least relaxing thing in the world.
CHAPTER 13: LEXI
I jolt when Laura lifts the cool sheet back over my body and murmurs, “Take your time getting up.”
The door clicks shut as our masseuses leave, and even though no words have been spoken between Gage and me for the last forty-five minutes, I feel this unexpected pull of intimacy toward him.
Maybe it’s because for the last forty-five minutes I’ve been picturing his naked body as it stood before me just before he got onto the table.
When I told him to go first, I certainly didn’t think he’d just drop his robe...and I really didn’t think he was buck naked underneath.
But he was, and I got a flash of the goods, and now I can’t stop thinking about how it would feel to have that body moving over mine.
Because, holy heck, that’s a body.
Hard. Everywhere.
It took all my willpower not to drool, and a little more not to lock the door and let him have his way with me right on the massage table.
I turn my head toward his, and I’m surprised when I see his eyes on me.
“How was yours?” he asks, his voice hoarse from silence.
I reach my arm across toward him, and surprise flashes through his eyes as he reaches his hand to meet mine. Our fingers lock together for a beat, and a rush of need heats my belly as the electric connection between our fingers travels all the way up my arm and straight into my heart.
“Amazing,” I murmur sleepily. “And yours?”
“Incredible.” His voice is just as sleepy as mine. He pulls his fingers from my grasp. “I suppose you want me to get up first?”
“I’d appreciate that.”
Why do I feel a little sense of disappointment that he’s doing exactly as I asked?
I shake out the feeling as he starts to shift and I put my head back in the table hole...even though I really want to peek again.
Just one more glance.
He didn’t tell me not to.
I watch as his feet move toward the door, and I lift my head.
They land on his naked butt. His cute, tight, perfectly-muscled butt.
Goodness gracious.
And when my eyes travel up, they meet his.
His butt is facing me, and he’s twisted around so his eyes are, too.
I’m caught red-handed.
He smirks at me before I slam my burning face back into the hole.
“Okay, I’m leaving now,” he says, a hint of laughter in his tone. “I’ll see you back in the lobby.”
I wait until I hear the door click shut behind him, glad at least that he’s planning to wait for me. I did, after all, initially reject his idea to spend the day together, but I’ve rethought that plan.
Probably because I saw him naked.
A fling.
That’s all this can be.
I need to make that clear.
Not that he’s exactly given me the vibe that he does want an attachment, but even if I spend the day with him, that’s all it will be.
I walk back toward the women’s locker room, get dressed, and head out to the lobby, where I find Gage.
“Ready?” he asks, his eyes sparkling as they fall onto me.
As we walk back toward the elevators, I wrestle with what to say. That was nice sounds dumb. Hold my hand again sounds needy. You’re ridiculously hot sounds desperate.
So I go with silence.
“I need to ask you something, Nashville,” he says after he pushes the button to call the elevator.
I glance over at him with my brows up.
“What color panties are you wearing?”
My jaw drops and I smack him in the shoulder. He rubs it and makes a big show of acting like it hurt.
“None of your business,” I hiss.
“I’m sorry,” he says, holding up both hands. “I just knew you were on the table next to me, probably with panties on because you don’t seem like the kind of girl who would take them off for a massage, and you saw all my junk hanging out and then I just kept wondering the entire time what color panties you had on.”
I soften a little. The doors open, and there’s people already in the elevator car. I look over at him, and then I turn my eyes down to the ground. “Black,” I mutter as we step on, and I don’t miss his soft chuckle followed by a long exhale.
When the doors open to the twenty-second floor, we both step off. I almost think he’s going to grab my hand, but he doesn’t.
“So, you said we’d revisit the idea of spending the day together if the massage went well, and I think it went well. Don’t you?” he asks.
I laugh. “It went well.” My cheeks turn pink at just how well it went. “But can you get out of your meetings?”
He nods. “Yeah. I called the office and told my assistant to reschedule.”
My brows shoot up as I turn toward him. “You did?”
He nods and finally reaches over to grab my hand. His fingers link through mine, and when he speaks, his voice is low and husky. “I figured you’d be worth it.”
My heart beats a little faster. I have no idea what’s in store for today, but suddenly I can’t wait to get it started. “All right, Motley Crue, what do you want to do first?”
“Let’s get changed and meet at the café downstairs in a half hour. I’ll plan a little itinerary for the day with a few options, and we can go over them while we eat.” He stops in front of his door and reaches for his wallet to grab his room key.
I try not to gape at him in surprise while my tummy does that little flip thing it keeps doing around him. He’s going to plan a little itinerary? Who even is this guy? He’s gorgeous, he’s got a crazy body, he seems intelligent, he’s funny, and he’s clearly interested in me since he’s planning a day for the two of us.
I need to get on that no attachment thing. Stat.
CHAPTER 14: GAGE
After breakfast, we head out for our one-day adventure. She opted for the beach since apparently Nashville doesn’t have many of those, so we grab a Lyft to Santa Monica, a place I’ve been to only once before.
With a different woman.
My ex, Stacy.
We dated on and off for about a year, and ultimately she got tired of being off. I didn’t want anything permanent—mostly because she was from Vegas, too, and she knew I had bigger dreams than Vegas had to offer. She didn’t. She loved it there, and she wanted to stay forever. I didn�
��t.
The day we broke up was the last time I ever talked to her. We took a road trip to Los Angeles one weekend, and we had a great time...until the ride home, when she badgered me about how it could be like this all the time if I’d just give in. I permanently ended things in the middle of a deserted highway between LA and Vegas.
That made for an awkward three hours...and that’s my best piece of advice: Never dump someone in the middle of a road trip.
Wait until the end. Maybe even when you’re pulling into her driveway to drop her off.
I usher Lexi into the back of the car, and I flex my fingers on her thigh after I settle in beside her. She glances over at me, and I sense a bit of a change in her. She’s eyeing me hungrily, which she wasn’t doing before, and I silently thank my cock for showing off the way he did earlier.
But that hungry look is scaring me a little.
I need to make it clear that this can’t be anything more than one weekend of fun. I wrestle with what to say as we get out of the car near the Santa Monica pier. We’re walking slowly next to one another, but I haven’t taken her hand. She hasn’t reached out for me, either. We’re just slowly strolling on a crowded pier.
Maybe in a month from now, or two months, or a year, I won’t be able to do this.
When I’m a member of My Favorite Band—because I will win that open spot—I’ll be recognized the world over. I’ll be mobbed at my public appearances because I’m part of a worldwide phenomenon, and I won’t be able to just stroll the pier with a girl by my side without people stopping me for autographs or selfies.
Being the idiot I am and lacking the foresight that this could make for a really awkward day—clearly having learned nothing from breaking up with Stacy in the middle of a long-ass road trip—I open my mouth to tell her that this can’t be anything more than a two-day adventure together.
But she opens her mouth first. “I need to say something.”
“Okay,” I say hesitantly, drawing out the word.
“I just...um, how do I say this?” She clears her throat. “This just...well, Gage, it just can’t be more than whatever happens over the next couple days. There’s lots of reasons, starting with the fact that you’re from Vegas and I’m from Nashville and it just won’t work.”
Could this woman be any more perfect for me?
I chuckle at the irony.
“Why are you laughing?” Her tone is accusatory and a little angry.
I shake my head. “I’m not, Nashville. It’s just ironic.”
“What is?”
“That I was about to tell you the same thing. I can’t get attached right now, either. And yet...you seem to be about the most perfect woman in the world.” I stare at her for a long beat, and her eyes are so nervous and so innocent and I have to fucking kiss her now.
I curl a hand around her neck, and she looks up at me, her eyes lit with want as she knows what’s coming. I’m suddenly nervous.
I’m never nervous with women.
I can’t explain it, but this heated feeling in my stomach is unfamiliar as I get ready to kiss her. I force it away, but as our mouths inch closer together, the feeling intensifies.
I lower my mouth to hers, and once our lips collide, I’m no longer standing on the Santa Monica Pier, but I’m in a world that only holds Lexi and me.
She’s sweet like cherries, and as my lips touch hers, she grabs me around my biceps, like she needs to hold on or she might fall over. I push at the seam of her lips with my tongue, and those luscious cherries part. Her mouth is sweet and warm as I kiss her on the pier like I’ve never kissed another woman before.
She brings out all these new feelings in me I’ve never felt. She’s such a walking contradiction—innocent and sinful, adorable and sexy as fuck, sweet and tempting. She challenges me in a way women usually don’t.
And, lest we forget, she also rejected me in a way women usually don’t.
My chest heaves with exertion as I deepen our kiss to a level that’s nearly inappropriate for people walking by to witness. I can’t help it, though. I’ve wanted to taste those lips since the moment I first saw them, and now that I’m getting the chance, I don’t want to let go. The way she kisses me back tells me she feels the same way. She’s with me beat for beat, and I tangle my hands in her hair as I give into the lust that’s been brewing between us since last night.
What I feel for her is more than lust, though. I haven’t figured out what it is yet, and I have to admit...I’m a little terrified to define it.
Her grip around my biceps tightens, and I’m about to slam my hips against hers so she can feel how hard she’s making me when she gently pushes my arms away. She pulls back, her lips a little puffy and her eyes a little dazed.
She draws in a shaky breath, and then she turns and grips the pier’s railing. “Dang,” she mutters.
I draw in my own shaky breath.
I’ve kissed a lot of women in my day.
A lot.
But never one like that before.
I want to kiss her again.
I will kiss her again. Maybe naked.
She looks over at me, her eyes full of lust.
Definitely naked.
We walk hand-in-hand along the pier. We stop in little shops. We ride the Ferris wheel and walk on the beach and talk about our lives as the waves lick our feet.
We get to know one another on a different level even though I’m keeping up the ruse that I’m in sales. I wish I could tell her about bass guitar and Sin City Crue and the chance to play with MFB.
I want to tell her all my secrets.
I learn that she’s an only child, she has one living grandparent, she’s close with her mom and dad, she hates tuna and cinnamon, she’s allergic to shellfish, she thinks butterflies are weird, she loves cats, she listens to all types of music but loves country, she wants to get out of Nashville, and she enjoys singing as a hobby.
I tell her about my own childhood, a story that makes her emotional as I tell her about the mom who passed when I was so young and the father I never knew. I tell her about the music I like, about my part-time job as a card dealer in Vegas, and that I sell business solutions—something one of my cousins actually does, so I’m able to lie my way through the questions she asks about that.
By the time we’re sitting at dinner by large windows as we watch the sun sink into the water, she feels like my girlfriend.
“I like you a lot, Lex,” I murmur as we wait for our Mexican dishes to be delivered.
“I like you, too.” Her mouth lifts in a half smile. “It’s so easy to be myself with you.”
“I never talk about my parents. I’ve just...never gotten close enough to feel comfortable talking about it,” I say, my eyes out the window.
“Do you think you hide behind the tough guy act because you don’t want people to see the real you? Everything inside you, including your abandonment issues?” she asks softly.
I stare across the table at her in wonder.
Holy shit.
That’s exactly it...the end-stamp on this makes me feel more comfortable letting her see things I don’t usually let other women see. The fact that I won’t see her again allows me to be vulnerable instead of hiding behind a mask when the truth is that I have major abandonment issues.
Issues I never realized I had until this very moment, when a woman I’ve known less than twenty-four hours just pointed it out to me.
First my dad.
Then my mom.
There’s a good reason why I don’t get attached to people.
It’s easy to say it’s because I don’t want to stay in Vegas or it’s because I have things on the horizon that make this bad timing.
But deep down, after all this time, I finally realize the truth.
Because of her.
And just like my parents...she’ll be leaving me, too.
CHAPTER 15: LEXI
When we get back to the hotel, it’s a little before ten.
“You, uh, rea
dy to call it a night?” he hedges as we make our way toward the elevators.
My eyes edge over toward his.
No.
I’m not ready to call it a night.
Wow, this is sure different from last night when he asked me if we could spend the day together and I said no.
I’m nervous.
Butterflies battle in my stomach. His invitation to his hotel room could mean a lot for the two of us, and I may be biting off far more than I can chew.
I clear my throat, and just as I open my mouth to answer, the elevator doors open. A crowd of rowdy young men exit, drinks in all their hands and voices turned to full volume.
“Bachelor party,” Gage mutters.
I glance over at him. “How do you know?”
He shrugs as we step onto the elevator and he presses the button for our floor. “I see them all the time in Vegas. They’re the right age, they’re all drunk, two had cigars, and they’re acting like they own the world. Typical. And I bet they’re off to a strip club.”
I raise a brow. “Have you ever been to one?”
“A bachelor party? Sure. Of course.”
I roll my eyes. “You know what I meant.”
“Yeah, I’ve been to a few. You?”
I feel his eyes on me. “Just once,” I admit, and I probably wouldn’t be admitting to it if I hadn’t had two margaritas at dinner. “In college. It was for our senior walk, and we were all pretty drunk, and somehow I thought it would be a good idea to get on the stage and flash my boobs.”
His brows raise in approval as he nods. “Wish I could’ve been there,” he murmurs, and my body heats at his words. “And, since you were my head shrink at dinner, let me be the first to assess that your one night at a strip club is probably the reason you don’t drink much today.”
“Ah, young prodigy,” I say, nodding sagely. “Very intuitive of you.”
He laughs, and the doors open.
