“You mean this?” Grinning, he held up the black and blue mask in his hand. “I just wanted you to see my face so you didn’t think I was some stranger running his hands all over you.”
“Too bad. I love when strangers grope me.”
“Well, I can make that happen too.” After donning his mask, he reached out and pulled me toward him as if to kiss me, and I had put my hands on his chest to slow his roll.
“Oh, sorry. I guess you’re in professional mode now, huh?” he said.
“Yes, that’s exactly it.” No, not just that. I’m a horrible, horrible person.
I hated holding back from him. Hated that he would hate me when he found out, because God knew if I didn’t find someone more permanent to cover for Ace soon, it was bound to get out. And I couldn’t let that happen. But finding someone had proved to be trickier than I’d expected, since I couldn’t flat-out tell them what they’d be signing up for.
I didn’t know how to fix the situation, and Val wasn’t helping, since she wasn’t the lead on the assignment, Ace had no suggestions, and his team had clearly stated that it was my job and they were too busy still doing damage control, even though the paparazzi had faded since the coming-out announcement had proven to be a “fake.” From what I’d heard, most of the people in those tabloids were celebrities who tipped off the paps anyway, so thankfully it’d been a quiet couple of weeks—not that I planned to stop sneaking around and wearing disguises in the meantime.
God…that sounds so bad when I say it like that.
“No problem. I’m more than happy to stare at your ass all night, since I can’t see your face.” His gaze trailed down my sequined black dress that hit mid-thigh—Val forced us all to wear short dresses tonight; it wasn’t my idea—and he whistled in appreciation. “Pantsless again tonight, I see. I’m glad I decided to crash the party after all.”
My stomach flip-flopped under his inspection, the same as it always did when he was around.
“I would’ve worn it later for you,” I said with a shy smile. “Unless there was another bloody knee incident, which is still entirely possible.”
“Didn’t stop you before.”
“So. Wanna grab a drink and come make rounds with me?”
“Hell yes I do.”
After Zoe slid a pink virgin beverage for me and a blue one for Nate across the bar, we made our way around the room, stopping to check in with everyone, see how things were going. Ask a few questions to get the ball rolling if they were standing there staring at each other. Pushed a few out to the dance floor. Nate was charming, per usual, and I was grateful he had on a mask so I wouldn’t have to see all the ogling once they caught sight of his face.
Eventually we settled on the opposite side of the bar from Val, but still within eyesight so I could see when she was done for the night. Or when she decided to fall off the martini glass barstool.
Nate kept his body facing the bar and leaned on his clasped hands. “So we’ve got to be inconspicuous, huh?”
“Mhmm, we do.”
“So I shouldn’t tell you I’d like to take off your—”
I slapped my hand across his mouth before he could finish that thought. When I let go, he gave me a cheeky grin. And then said, “Mask.”
Laughing, I shook my head. “I don’t think that’s what you were going to say.”
“It was. I’m on my best behavior this evening.”
“That’s too bad,” I said, pulling a small Post-it pad from my cleavage. Nate’s eyes went wide.
“Have I mentioned I love that you keep stuff in your bra? Holy shit it’s hot.”
When I pulled out a pen too, he leaned over to get a glimpse down my shirt.
“Jesus, what else do you have in there?” he asked.
“Sometimes my phone. What can I say? It’s like the never-ending Mary Poppins carpetbag in bra form.” On the Post-it I wrote: Maybe I’ll let you get a peek later. Then I pushed the pad and pen his way.
“Ohh, this is tenth grade all over again. Awesome.” He peeled off the note and then scribbled a quick line before pushing it my way.
Or maybe I could just tear it off with my teeth.
Such an animal. Is that where you’d start?
Fuck no. You’re wearing a dress. It would be orgasms on the dance floor all over again.
I’ll settle for the bedroom.
Or the kitchen?
Possibly the shower…
Nate coughed and adjusted his pants. “Fuck.” Then: Did I mention you look stunning?
With my face all covered up? I wrote, grinning.
Can’t a guy give a compliment?
I’d prefer the orgasm.
Singular?
Plural. Multiples.
“Oh hell, hang on.” Val was teetering, and I quickly shoved the notes in my top and rounded the bar. Nate was hot on my heels, and we got to her just in time to keep her upright and not flashing her bum to everyone.
“I already called the cab,” Ryleigh said, coming to stand beside me and grabbing Val’s purse from the bar.
“What the fuck do I need a fucking cab for?” Val said, patting her sides as if she had pockets there, and then she pointed at me and slurred, “And where the fuck are my fucking keys? If someone steals my car, you’re fired.”
“I’ll make sure no one steals the Lexus,” I said, before mouthing Thank you to Ryleigh. Then I took a hold of Val’s arm as she wobbled to her feet.
“And these masks are fucking stupid.” Val dropped hers to the ground and went to step on it but missed by about a foot. That didn’t stop her from stomping around until she nailed it.
“Okay, I think it’s dead.”
With Nate holding her other side, we helped Val through the throng of guests, many of whom barely looked our way, either too engrossed in conversation, or too used to bars where it was common to haul out the drunkards.
Really super great for business. If only she’d kept her damn mask on.
The cab was, thankfully, already at the curb, and Ryleigh took a few bills out of Val’s wallet and gave them to the driver before tossing the purse in the backseat.
“She’s at 1440 Miller Drive,” I said, tucking Val’s legs into the backseat, but she pushed me off.
“I got it, I got it. I can buckle my fucking self, Jesus.” She attempted to do just that five times, the buckles clinking, before finally giving up and throwing them down.
“See you Monday. Drink some water.”
Val’s eyes narrowed. “Stop with the mama routine, hooker. I don’t need a fucking teat to suck. And why the hell are you always dressed like it’s a funeral, for fuck’s sake—”
I slammed the cab door shut and waved off the driver before she could spew out any more trash in front of Nate.
Damn she’d gotten vile lately. When had that happened? She’d always spouted off, but there was humor behind it. But now? She made that “no more wire hangers” broad look like a classy bitch.
“I’m not believing you deal with that every day,” Nate said, his eyes tracking me warily.
“Believe it. I should’ve taken more money out of her wallet as a tip,” Ryleigh said, and then did a double take. “Oh hey…Nate. You made it.”
He put his arm around my waist, and then caught sight of people exiting the After Dark and stepped back. “Yeah, I wanted to surprise Shayne. Great place you have here.”
“Thank you. And…excellent surprise?” She looked at me in question.
I nodded and smiled. “Definitely.”
“Okay, well…I’m gonna go find Hunter.” Ryleigh ducked back into Licked, and I turned to face Nate.
“Thank you. And I’m sorry about that.”
“Nothing to be sorry for.”
“So…best, most romantic Valentine’s Day ever, right?”
“It’s been an interesting one so far, that’s for sure.” Then he leaned over so that his lips were by my ear and said, “But don’t worry. I’ll make sure you get what you deserve. And I th
ink I’ll start by removing those notes in your bra one by one.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Cheesetastic
“WHERE ARE WE going?” I asked Nate for the twentieth time in the past two hours.
“Crazy.”
I rolled my eyes and leaned back in the passenger seat of his car, letting my hand drift out the window to ride the wind. It was a gorgeous, sunny day in March, and all I’d been told was to pack an overnight bag. “You’ve already reached that destination, thank you very much. Is there some special occasion we’re celebrating that I don’t know about?”
“I can’t just take my girlfriend away for a weekend?” He glanced over and saw my raised eyebrow and then said, “Okay, fine. But it’s cheesy. You’ll probably throw up.”
“Sometimes I like your brand of cheesy. But if I need to, I’ll stick my head out the window.”
“Fair enough. We met two months ago.”
“Yeah…”
“So, that’s it. We met two months ago. On the train—”
“Oh my God, you cheesy, romantic bastard. This is an anniversary sort of thing, is it?”
“Or…a just-because thing.”
I shook my head, laughing. “Oh, Dimples, who would’ve thought such a sentimental sap was underneath those sexy suspenders? Should I start taking you to chick flicks and forcing you to read love stories?”
“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with a good love story.”
“Is that right.”
“The Great Gatsby. The Remains of the Day. Love is the central theme, so maybe it’s rubbed off a bit.”
“I love that you’re such a book nerd. It’s seriously hot. Is that where we’re going? Some place you can read to me in a meadow while I feed you grapes?”
“Not sure we’ll find meadows, but grapes are a definite. In some form or other.”
“Oooh, well, count me in.”
“Seeing as you’re already in the car, you don’t have a choice.”
“And that right there is why I was single for so long. You get in a relationship, and bam! All your free will goes away.” As Nate laughed, the twinges of guilt that I’d lived with for weeks now, but tried to keep at bay, resurfaced to remind me they were there.
Ace had been shooting in San Diego for three weeks, and last weekend I’d made a quick “impromptu” visit to the set, which was a crazy experience in and of itself. It had been enough to be seen going in and out of the places he’d be, so we hadn’t had to make any public appearances, for which I’d been grateful. I enjoyed spending time with Ace, but every minute with him was one I was missing out on with Nate.
But I wasn’t going to think about that this weekend. I was going to enjoy myself with my guy and whatever he had planned.
A few minutes later, we were parked and strolling into the foyer of Bridgefield Winery.
Oh yes. Loverboy had taken me to a winery. Hands off, ladies.
The trickle of a waterfall we passed and the light hum of Italian opera playing in the distance greeted us as we walked up to the check-in desk.
“Wait, are we staying here too?” I whispered.
“That okay?”
“Is that okay? I’m in freakin’ heaven.”
“Welcome to Bridgefield,” the deeply tanned woman behind the counter said. “Checking in?”
As Nate gave her his information, my gaze drifted over to the open glass double doors that offered a gorgeous view of the lush greenery spread out for acres and the hills in the distance. The sky today was a cloudless blue, and without the city lights, we’d be able to lie underneath the stars later, or maybe enjoy the square bonfire pit with the rocking chairs gathered around it. It was so peaceful here, and with the chaos that had crowded my brain for too many weeks now, it was a welcome relief.
As the woman handed Nate a clipboard and pen, she peered at me over her glasses. “You look familiar. Have you stayed with us before?”
My limbs turned to ice as I froze and sent up a silent prayer that she wasn’t thinking what I hoped she wasn’t thinking. When I didn’t answer right away, Nate looked over at me.
“Uh, no,” I said, finding my voice and pulling my hat down farther.
I wasn’t about to mention I’d gone wine-hopping here with the girls a couple of years back, because first, that wasn’t where she would’ve recognized me from, and second, I was ready to get the hell out of there before the real reason I looked familiar hit her.
“Hmm. I can’t seem to place where I’ve seen you before,” she said, pushing her glasses up her nose as she continued to scrutinize me.
Shit, let it go, woman.
“I get that a lot,” I said, before casually slipping behind Nate. Then she handed him a keycard and gave him directions to our room and we were off, away from the prying eyes of anyone who could blow my cover.
That had been a close call. Too close. I guess I could’ve pulled out the short black bob for the drive up, but I didn’t think it would be necessary to freak Nate out. I’d only been using scarves and hats around him because the wigs seemed a little extreme, but rare moments like this had me panicking that maybe I’d need to put them to good use after all.
When we reached room 112, I teased, “Will you be carrying me over the threshold too?”
Nate dropped his bag just outside the door. “You read my mind.”
“Whoa, I was kidding,” I said, batting him away. “How about you open the door instead, Romeo.”
He laughed as he leaned in for a kiss. “You do know this is a romantic weekend getaway, and I plan on spoiling you, right? I’m gonna need you to get on board with this.” His teeth nipped at my bottom lip, teasing until I wrapped my arms around his neck and crushed my lips to his.
“You can do that…in bed. Please and thank you.”
With my mouth swallowing his groan, he inserted the room key—though it took several tries—and shoved the door open, and we tumbled inside. I let go long enough for him to grab the bags from the hallway, and as we entered the dark room, the soft flickering of battery-operated tea light candles spread out around the room greeted us. At the end of the king-size bed were more candles, along with flower petals, chilled wine, and glasses.
“Wow,” I said softly.
There’d never been any candles and rose petals anywhere in my past relationships. No weekend getaways, no romantic gestures anywhere near this level. Had I just been deprived of romance this whole time, or was Nate an exception to most men?
His arms went around my waist from behind me, warm and strong, and then one of his hands snaked down lower. “You don’t mind if I have you all to myself for a private tasting, do you?”
The kiss he planted beneath my ear echoed through my whole body, and I shivered. Covering his wayward hand with mine, I pushed his fingers down even farther, until it reached the apex of my thighs.
My head fell back on his shoulder as he teased me, achingly slowly, over my jeans. Pressed up against me, I could feel his erection growing with every stroke he gave me. Just as my breath hitched and I grabbed the back of his neck, he was pushing me away.
“It’s rude to tease,” I said, watching as he set the pair of glasses on the table and began to uncork the bottle of wine.
“What? I said I wanted a private tasting.”
My bottom lip popped out. “I thought you meant of me.”
“Oh, I did.” He poured us each a glass of the chilled, golden liquid and handed me one.
“Are we toasting happy anniversary?” I teased.
“How about cheers, smartass, now go get naked.”
I took a long gulp and set my glass on the nightstand. With my back to him, I flirted with the edge of my top and then pulled it up over my head, tossing it over my shoulder. He caught it, and when I faced him and unbuttoned my jeans, he held up his hand.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” he said.
“Oh, I dare,” I said, unzipping my pants just as he lunged and tackled me to the bed.
And then…it was
on.
Nate’s hands were on me everywhere, running down my sides, up over my breasts, unbuttoning my bra. He slid it down my arms, and then he straightened, sitting back on his knees. His lips quirked as he looked down to what I was staring at. “You like these?” he asked, pulling on the straps of his suspenders.
“Mhmm, I do.”
He unfastened one and then the other. Crawling over me, he pushed my arms up over my head and touched my lips lightly with his. “Then I guess we’ll have to put them to good use. What do you say?”
I moaned my approval, and he gathered my wrists together with one hand and wound his suspenders around them with the other. His lips trailed a path of kisses down my neck…my shoulder…settling on the pointy tips of my breasts.
Arching my back up off the bed, I rubbed against him, needing the friction, since I wasn’t able to touch. His hips ground into mine, and his hands moved quickly, peeling off my jeans to reveal the ice-blue lace panties I’d bought just for this weekend. Knowing it was the only color he could really see had me consciously picking out clothes just for him.
The warm, wet feel of his tongue between my thighs had me bucking up, a quick swipe that had my breath rushing out. Then the panties were discarded and his mouth was back on me, and fuck, I wanted to spear my hands into his hair, to hold him there or push him away because the pleasure was too intense. Writhing underneath him, my arms desperately trying to wriggle out of its hold, I cried out as the wave crested and then crashed spectacularly, sweeping me away with its powerful pull.
I was trembling as I came down from the high, and as Nate’s mouth left me, his hands massaged the outside of my thighs to soothe.
When I caught my breath, I glanced over at the wine glasses by the bed. “And here I thought you’d be using the wine for a little private tasting.”
“That had been the plan, but fuck, you taste better than anything out of a bottle.”
Oh fuck me, that might be the best compliment I’d ever heard.
Hooker (L.A. Liaisons Book 2) Page 15
