“I can see your concerns.” For a moment, I wondered if he’d tell me okay and send me on my merry way back home. I almost wished he had. Instead, his eyes roamed to the pool, and I looked over and fought from rolling my eyes from the irritation brewing inside of me.
Typical.
A group of four college-aged girls in tiny bikinis was staring over at us and giggling. One in particular, the leader of the four I would have guessed, kept looking over. With her beautiful, sun-kissed skin and wild, curly, dirty-blond hair she was catwalk beautiful as she smiled at Marcus and bit her lip as she gawked suggestively at him from beneath her very fake eyelashes. As irritating as it was that someone so young would be so disrespectful to one of her sisters, seeing women had it hard enough without us trying to take our men, I couldn't get angry. Not really. Despite the casual setting, this was still a business meeting, and I had to remember that.
"Let's go for a swim," he said, standing, and I looked at him, feeling dumbfounded. Was this guy for real? Wasn't he trying to talk me into selling him my book? Now, instead of talking to me, he wanted to jump into the pool with girls I would highly suggest he checked their I.D.s to make sure they were of legal age?
"What?" I asked, wondering if this was some kind of joke. He’d noticed the sexy co-eds, and now he was over this meeting? I stared at the table in front of me and then looked up at him, my mouth going dry.
Shit.
My mind and body literally battled one another, but my mind shut off and all I could do was take in the show.
I watched as he lifted his shirt in that sexy semi-complicated way men took their tees off. Grabbing a bunch from behind them and pulling it over their heads. Why that was sexy, I had no clue. It just was. One moment, he was covered in blue and white board shorts and a grey t-shirt, and then as if time slowed, golden tan skin was slowly exposed from bottom to top. Even a nun wouldn’t have been able to look away.
Chiseled abs covered by silky smooth skin that you knew just by looking at would feel like heaven pressed up naked against you. A light dark sprinkling of hair over his chest trailed down to the waistband of his board shorts.
Snap out of it and stop being such a slut! I yelled at myself but couldn't stop staring.
His pecs and shoulders were bare. The sight was better than it ever could have been in a magazine or on the big screen. Tossing his shirt on the table, he turned, and I bit my lower lip, hard. As sexy as his front was, his back was sinful. Corded muscles and smooth skin with a light dusting of freckles you wanted to play connect the dots with your tongue. A narrow waist and a great freaking ass! I wanted to pour baby oil over his skin and just rub… for hours.
Then reality hit me.
As hot as he was, he was also rude.
And arrogant.
And aloof.
Could I hand over my story to a man who was like that? Frustration quickly turned into anger. If he was treating our meeting like this, would he turn around and treat my book that way? Was the money worth it? If this were Lexi’s book, what would I tell her?
I’d tell her to step away from the deal. Don’t do it. My eyes still on the table, I realized I couldn’t do this. There was no way I could hand over my book to someone so careless.
Grabbing my purse off the table, I stood without looking at him. I wasn’t stupid. I was only human, and I knew his looks fizzled out my brain power.
I walked away. Reaching the elevator, I pressed the button to get the hell out of there. Who the hell did he think he was? Hollywood’s Mr. Right. Pshh, more like Mr. D-Bag. The elevator chimed, but a hand grabbed my wrist, and I turned. Half-naked Mr. Cocky Douchebag stood there breathless as if he'd sprinted after me.
"Where are you going?" he asked, obviously pissed off.
"Home," I shared calmly, trying to keep my cool. I stepped to the side as a couple of people went past me and into the elevator.
"What?" he asked, and I wanted to shake him. God, who did he think he was?
"I'm going home," I cleared up for him only to see the damn elevator doors close. I pressed the button again to get it to come back.
"Why?" he asked in genuine disbelief.
"Seriously?" My eyes went wide, my eyebrows going up.
I could see movie stars being treated nicer than the rest of the working class, but no one could be that blind to their own behavior. Could they?
"What?" he asked, as if he was the injured party.
"I don't have time for this." I turned, anger starting to swirl into my mood as I stared at the closed metal doors in front of me.
I was usually pretty even-tempered. Being a single mom, I'd had to learn to keep my emotions in check. But there was something about the arrogant way Wright carried himself that got to me. That made me want to burst his bubble and ground him. Remind him what real life was really like. Show him that whatever la-la-land of everything goes he'd obviously gotten accustomed to was not the way the real world worked.
“We’re having a meeting,” he growled, his hands clenched at his sides like a toddler about to throw a fit, and if he hadn’t pissed me off so badly, I would have laughed.
“Look, Mr. Wright, I don't have time to waste. I would much rather be folding socks at home than watch up close and personal as you embarrass yourself flirting with young women who don’t know better than to flirt with men your age.”
“My age?” he asked, his face brightening in color, but I was on a roll and he was in for it now. I couldn’t have stopped myself if I had tried.
“And honestly, you are some piece of work.” The disgust was clear in my voice. “I came here on good faith that you weren’t just some pretty boy, future rom-com-superhero-has-been.” His eyes flared in surprise, but I couldn’t care less. “I was wrong. Very, very wrong. Whatever I saw in your eyes and heard in your voice yesterday wasn’t real. All it was, was a damn good performance,” I told him and was too worked up to notice he’d calmed and was actually listening to me.
“Look, Grace—”
“You should put that kind of dedication into your acting; if you did, you’d have a shelf full of trophies from all sorts of award shows instead of your face splattered all over TMZ, Okay Magazine, and—”
“Look, Grace—”
“Do you think I wanted to drive an hour here and back home for no freaking reason?”
“There is a reason.” He ran his fingers through his close-cut hair and sighed. “Beyond the Stars—”
“Is not for sale.”
Shit. I’d said it. Me and my big mouth. Just like that, breathing easy felt a whole world away. Oh, well. What’s done is done.
“What?” His face paled.
“It's not for sale,” I repeated it, and as much as I hated that it meant breathing easy wasn’t going to happen as soon as I had hoped, I meant it. “Not to you. Ending a meeting so that you can flirt with co-eds and ignoring the conversation we were supposed to be having so that you could what? Play rub-a-dub-dub with a twenty-year-old girl? Is that how much interest you have in my book? It that the respect you would be showing it?”
“No. Shit. Grace—”
“No. You won't, because like I just said, Beyond the Stars is not for sale. Not to you.” Shaking with anger and a little bit of disappointment, I turned around, trying to ignore his presence and anyone’s attention we might have drawn with our stupid yelling match.
I pushed for the elevator again, crossing my arms at my chest. The doors pinged open, and I stepped into the empty car and pressed for the lobby without looking toward the door, my eyes set on the silver buttons. I closed my eyes, preparing myself to head down twenty-six floors.
God, I hated elevators. Small spaces made me anxious.
I heard someone step inside, the ping warning that the doors were going to close. I opened my eyes, not wanting to come off rude, only to see him standing right in front of me.
Marcus Wright was cast as a comic book super-hero and romantic comedy leading man for a reason. That reason only magnified its
elf as he stood right in front of me.
Bare-chested, his skin seemed to glisten with a light sheen of sweat under the hot California sun, and after the way he had made me so angry, all I could think about was licking him. What was wrong with me?
“What are you doing?” I asked him, trying to hold on to the anger. But the more I looked at his light golden skin and rippled muscles, the more I knew I didn’t sound as confident as I wanted, but I sure as hell was going to try.
“I…” he sighed, then without warning, he ran a hand down the side of my face. I stood, shocked at him touching me. “I messed up,” he whispered, leaning in closer, his fingers now under my chin.
His eyes were no longer light blue. They were a richer, brighter blue. I watched as they roamed my face and seemed fixated on my lips I couldn’t help but lick. A muffled groan escaped from somewhere deep inside of him, and I watched him close his eyes slowly and take a deep breath. It left me feeling mystified and a little powerful in an ‘I am woman, hear me roar’ kind of way.
“I don’t know why you followed me into an elevator…” I tried to keep the fight alive, but my voice gave me away.
“Stay,” he pleaded, and I swallowed, suddenly realizing that I was still shaking, but no longer out of anger.
Chapter Five
Marcus
“Please. I’ll behave. Scout’s honor.” His heart was thundering in his chest, and he was afraid it had nothing to do with the fact she seemed determined not to sign off. There was something about her that made him nervous. Not to mention the way she treated him. She was honest and real, and sure as hell not about to kiss his ass.
“Were you ever a Scout?” she asked, her pretty face slightly flushed, her eyes dazed and on his mouth, and he smiled. She was attracted to him. He wasn’t being cocky about it. He knew women liked what they saw when it came to him. It was the main reason he was as successful as he was.
“No. But I played one in a movie once,” he stupidly answered, and her eyes moved back to his. He knew he had not given the right answer when he saw the fire blaze back up.
“Right,” she scoffed and shook her head. “Does this usually work for you?”
“Does what work?” he asked, slightly confused, and she shook her head, fire blazing in her eyes; and damn, that fire worked for her.
“This whole charming façade thing you have going on.”
“You think I’m charming?”
“Like a three-dollar bill. Honestly, I never thought a person could be that far up their own ass. I’ve read about people like you, but I thought it was always exaggerated. Thanks for proving me wrong.”
“What?” There she went again, shooting him at the knees with the way she spoke to him. No one but Garrett talked to him like that. Not even Don or Bryan.
“You barged into my house yesterday with an impromptu thing, set this…” she shook her hand out toward the shut doors, “I don’t even know what that was. But let me tell you, ‘Mr. Right,’” she scoffed his name in air quotations, “if you are serious about starting a business where you are going to be more than a pretty face in front of a camera, a little common sense would go a long way.” Shit, he had really fucked up somehow.
“Grace—”
“I have to get lunch, and by lunch I mean a super large iced espresso drink, grab my kid from school, do homework, and stay up late tonight because I am officially behind on my work. It was interesting to say the—” she stopped talking as the elevator jerked hard.
Without thinking, he grabbed her, pressing her close to him. Her arms immediately wrapped around his waist, overwhelming his senses with the feel and smell of her. “Shit. What was that?” Her voice sounded scared.
“The elevator stopped,” he lamely answered.
“Nothing gets past you,” she scoffed, and he looked down at her just as she looked up at him. He didn’t like the fear in her eyes. He wanted to make it vanish. Cupping her face, he stroked the smooth skin at her cheekbone.
“It’ll be okay.”
“Oh my God….” she said in a hushed tone, and he couldn’t help but stroke her back with the tips of his fingers, wishing she wasn’t wearing a cardigan.
“Don’t worry. It’ll be okay,” he repeated his reassurance.
“You should know something,” she whispered, and he noted the way she was slightly pale and her cheeks were flushed.
“What’s that?”
“I’m not good in small spaces,” she spoke softly, as if trying hard not to freak out.
“Okay.”
“No, you don’t get it.” She shook her head, stepping back, and he immediately missed her body and the way it had been pressed into his. “Small spaces freak me out.”
“Look, it’s probably just a glitch; these things happen all the time,” he lied. He had no idea how often this shit happened.
“You think so?” The hope in her eyes made him want to be able to give her the world. Shit, what was his problem?
“Yeah. Plus, look,” he pointed to the lights overhead, “it’s not like we’ve lost power.” His deep voice rumbled in the space, and he watched her fear melt into a soft smile. But two seconds later, those same lights flickered and completely went out.
Leaving them in complete and utter darkness.
“Oh my god.” Grace’s voice shuddered with panic. He reached out for her, silently glad she was still close enough to touch. Her hand in his, he held the tips of her fingers. He liked how warm her hands always seemed to be when they touched.
“Ohmygod… Ohmygod…no one knows we’re in here. What if they don’t check on us?”
“Shh… it’s a power outage. They happen during the summer in L.A..” He heard her take a deep breath and hoped he was somehow soothing her.
“You would think the Ritz would have a back-up generator,” she sarcastically mumbled, making him smile at her spunk.
“Yeah, you would think that.” Without thinking, he asked, “Why don’t you like small spaces?”
“I have no idea. I just don’t. Never have,” she said fast, as if trying to spit out her answer so she wouldn’t have to think about it.
“Ever?”
“Never.” She sounded agitated. He lost her fingertips but felt her move closer to him. Both of them were now leaning against the elevator wall. “When we were little, my mom saved up and surprised my sisters and I with a playhouse. She was excited. She worked hard so we didn’t have to go without, but a playhouse was a big extra. But I couldn’t step into it. It felt too small, like the walls were going to start closing in.”
“That sounds scary.”
“You have no idea,” Grace mumbled. The darkness surrounded them, creating a weird bubble he didn’t want to leave. “She was so disappointed.” The vulnerability in her voice was clear.
“Nothing is going to happen to you,” he promised and meant it. The hand closest to her moved, thankful to find her hand once again.
“Are you going to keep me safe?” she asked, and he was glad he could hear a hint of amusement in her voice.
“Don’t you know I’m a superhero?” Her soft laugh made him feel like he had somehow triumphed.
She shifted closer, their hands interlocking, the side of her face resting against the bare skin of his shoulder. His dick strained forward, wanting to feel more. Cool it, boy, he thought as he breathed in deeply through his nose. Inhaling her scent and thinking he liked how she fit next to him as he exhaled slowly while leaning his own cheek on the top of her head.
“You did play one in a movie,” she muttered.
“I did.” His heart raced while his face turned, her hair at his nose. Fuck, her hair smelled good. “Did you watch it?” he mumbled into the top of her head.
“Yeah. I had to. Lexi loves superheroes. She’s obsessed,” she answered with a smile in her voice.
“What about her mom?” His voice came off too deep, and he cleared it, feeling her hand tighten in his.
“They aren’t too bad,” she answered. “I me
an, some of them are rude and full of themselves, but…”
“I’m really sorry.” He turned without thinking at the same time she turned toward him and started to talk.
“I shouldn’t have said that. That was rude. I…” she stopped talking and he knew why.
He closed his eyes tightly, his balls and what felt like every fucking nerve end in his body tightening as his hardness brushed against the softness of her tummy. Shit. She was holding her body tensely. She probably thought he was some weird pervert now.
“Oh,” she breathed, and he groaned at how sexy that little purr sounded.
“Grace.” He wanted to explain but didn’t know how.
“Are you… ugh, what I mean is… umm… are you…”
“Yeah.” His voice was gruff, and his dick was hard, begging for her touch. What the hell was wrong with him? He’d had a damn hard-on like a teenage kid from the moment he watched her give him a sexy little grin as she had walked toward him when she’d arrived.
“Still?” Still? Had she noticed his reaction to her?
“What do you mean, still?”
“You know, the girls from the pool?” Girls?
“What girls from the pool?” he asked, confused as fuck. What the hell was she talking about?
“The reason you wanted to go swimming.” Her body was still tense, and he didn’t like it. He wanted her soft, compliant, and a hell of a lot closer than she was.
“I don’t know what girls you’re talking about,” he answered truthfully.
“Right,” she huffed, trying to step away, but he wasn’t going to have it.
He didn’t know what it was. Maybe the intimate, secluded darkness they found themselves in. Or maybe it was the way she smelled and felt. But he didn’t want her far from him. Whatever it was, he needed her close.
He placed a hand at the small of her back. She yelped when he pulled her in, their fronts pressed close. Her hand landed on his chest. He was sure she was going to try to push him away, so he tightened his hold on her before she could even make a move to get out of his arms. He rolled his hips so that she would be clear he was still most definitely hard.
LIE (Right Men Book 1) Page 4
