The exceptions were the radio stations, and by the time we reached the last one of the day, Carly was dragging, and I was ready to hit something just to relieve some of the tension.
Preferably one of the assholes who were treating Carly badly.
“Is it always like this?” I asked Ryan, keeping my voice low as we stood in the corner, watching through the windows as she chatted with a couple of DJs.
“Like what?”
I tried to figure out how to say it, and then finally jutted my chin toward the DJs. “Well, those guys are being pretty decent. But the TV people...it’s like they were baiting her, just trying to get her upset.”
“They were.” Ryan sighed and shrugged. “And this wasn’t even a bad day. Local news stations don’t ever get that bad since she does have ties to the community here. Well, I won’t say never, but they aren’t like Barbara Walters or anything.” He checked the time and then looked over at me. “There’s no privacy for anyone anymore, Bobby. If you’re in the public eye, there’s even less. She didn’t ask to be in the public eye. She was just born there. I guess she could’ve moved to Montana, raise horses...” He shrugged. “Disappear. But she feels like she owes it to her dad’s memory to not completely vanish. People want some part of him to hold on to. She’s it.”
“She doesn’t owe people her entire life.”
“No.” Ryan shook his head. “She doesn’t. But that’s Carly for you. She doesn’t do anything half-assed. Her father left a legacy behind in a lot of ways. She just wants to make sure he’s remembered.”
“She gives up an awful lot of herself for that.”
We both watched as she rose from the table, a smile on her face and shadows under her eyes.
“Yeah.” Ryan nodded. “She does.”
***
One day left.
That thought had me out of my room and pacing, standing at the window and staring outside instead of sleeping. I didn’t need much sleep most of the time. Came from having been in prison, I supposed. I’d been a killer, but not the biggest badass, which meant I’d had to watch my back. Which meant staying awake as much as I could. Sometimes I craved it, but couldn’t manage any more than a couple of hours, and then there were times when I’d crash, and sleep for twelve hours straight. But today wasn’t one of those days.
I couldn’t shut my brain down, and part of it was because I was too busy wishing I hadn’t taken this job. As soon as it was gone, I would be reminded of everything missing in my life. Not just the decent food, although I sure as hell hadn’t minded having room service once I’d adjusted to it.
No, what I was going to miss were things like listening to Ryan and Carly bitch at each other in the morning. Seeing Carly stumble to the table in next to nothing, and then watching her smile at me once the caffeine hit her system. It was probably for the best, though, because that smile of hers was starting to get to me. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could resist her...
A door creaked open.
I lifted my head and looked, watched as she slid out of her room and padded toward me, wearing one of those miserable excuses for a nightgown, some slippy looking thing that was the color of midnight. It skimmed just a few inches below her ass and made her skin look even softer than usual.
I missed soft things.
“Can’t sleep?”
Even her voice was soft, and I turned my head to look back outside because looking at her was more temptation than I needed.
“Still not used to the quiet, I guess.” I shrugged.
I tensed when she came up behind me and slid her arms around my middle. Her lips were satin against the back of my right shoulder. I closed my eyes. Fuck.
She started to trail a line of kisses across my shoulder. With a sigh, I reached down and caught her hands, turning around even as I stepped away from her.
“What are you doing, Carly?” I asked after I’d put what seemed to be a wise distance between us.
Ten feet was safe, right?
Ten feet made it hard for me to catch the scent of her skin, although I could still remember it. And no amount of distance would undo the memory of her mouth moving under mine, or wipe away the memory of her taste. The sight of her skin and weight of her breasts that night Ryan had interrupted us...
She apparently didn’t like the distance.
Ten feet became eight feet, then five.
I’d put my back to the bar, and now she stood just two feet away, the crazy corkscrews of her hair spilling more than halfway down her back. I wanted to twist my hands in it, pull her up against me and get lost in her.
And I would get lost, I knew. If I let myself, I could lose everything in her, for her.
Her gaze dropped down to my mouth and my dick gave a hard, almost vicious twist.
She closed the remaining distance between us once more and reached up, touching my mouth. I caught her wrist.
“What are you doing?” I asked again.
“Isn’t that obvious?”
She leaned against me, and through her thin nightshirt, I felt all of her and it was like feeling heaven. Hot skin, soft woman and sweet curves.
But in the back of my mind, I kept seeing those white flashes from a dozen cameras.
“We were interrupted last time,” she said.
“We were in public,” I reminded her. “In front of a bunch of cameras.”
She’d done that on purpose too. I hadn’t brought it up, but I wasn’t an idiot either. Just because I spoke with a drawl and had spent time in prison didn’t mean I wasn’t smart. I was intelligent enough to figure out that she’d had me sit with her because she could kiss me in public, in front of the media. She could shut down that asshole Hank, and give the press a new story to chase for a while.
“I’m not talking about at the dinner.” She tugged, but I didn’t let her go just yet. She didn’t seem disturbed by it, just leaned in and kissed the fingers I’d closed around her wrist.
I stifled a groan and remembered the night she’d been talking about. Yeah, we’d been interrupted, alright.
Thank goodness.
“That shouldn’t have happened to begin with,” I said gruffly. “Besides, we’re just as likely to get interrupted again anyway.”
Her pulse throbbed against my thumb and absently, I stroked that fragile, rapid beat. Her skin felt like silk under my touch. I didn’t think I’d ever been so aware of how rough my own skin was. Her lashes fluttered, and I had the insane urge to lean in and press a kiss to her eye, to watch those lids close and then kiss my way down her body, to worship her with my mouth, bring her as much pleasure as I possibly could.
“Oh, I disagree there,” she said. She tugged again and this time, I let her go, hoping she’d do the smart thing and pull away.
But she didn’t.
Of course she didn’t.
She slid her hand up my bicep, along my shoulder, ran her fingers through my hair. “I keep thinking I wish we would’ve been smart and gone into your room...or mine.” Her fingers tightened in my hair until it hurt. “Can we be smart this time?”
“Smart would have been you throwing me out on my ass the night we met,” I said, even as part of me started screaming for me to shut up. I ignored it and tried another tactic. “You don’t even know me.”
“I know I want you.”
I tensed as she skimmed the flat of her hand up my rib cage and then down. My cock was at full attention now, and my pants weren’t doing anything to hide it.
“I know I want to know more of you. I know you make me laugh. I know you kiss me like you want to breathe me in, like I’m the air to you.” She leaned in, brushed her mouth against mine. “I know I want you, and I think you want me too. That’s enough for now.”
My head started to spin. I could say the same things to her, all of the same things. I opened my mouth, but none of those sweet things were what came out. Instead, I asked a question.
“Why did you kiss me at the dinner?”
I was an idiot.
Slowly, she lowered herself from her tip toes, head cocked as she studied my face. “Does it matter?”
“If it didn’t, I wouldn’t have asked,” I pointed out. Now that I’d asked the question, I wanted an answer.
She huffed out a put-upon sigh and she looked so damn cute, I almost didn’t catch that glint in her eyes. Almost. “When you live my kind of life, you don’t exactly forget. You just stop thinking about them.”
I knew she was being honest. Sort of. I’d seen that look in her eyes. She didn’t want to tell me the whole story.
“You didn’t entirely stop thinking about them.” I shook my head and moved a little closer, taking back the small bit of space she’d given up when she’d eased away. This time I wanted to use the proximity against her. “Did you?”
She caught her lower lip between her teeth, eying me. Then, bluntly, she said, “No. Not entirely.”
“Then why did you do it?”
“Because.”
She spun away on her heel and started to pace. The short, barely there bit of silk she wore drove me crazy with each long stride, riding up and then falling back into place, giving me tantalizing glimpses of her amazing ass.
“I wanted to kiss you, so I did. I don’t care.” She spun back around and stared at me. “Obviously you do.”
“It’s not...” I stopped, something hollow in me, something I couldn’t explain without sounding like I was accusing her of something. “I’m beginning to learn how that head of yours works, Carly. You had more in mind than that. You kissed me
because
the cameras were there. Why?”
“No,” she corrected. She crossed her arms over her chest and again, my libido roared, telling me to screw talking and take what she was offering. “I wanted to kiss you.” She ran her fingers through her curls. “But I wasn’t playing to the cameras.”
“You were using me because of that Hank guy.”
Her cheeks flushed and I knew I’d hit on something.
“He’s a lecherous ass who’s always pawing at me, so yes, I leaned into you when you put your arm around me because I wanted him to leave me alone.”
“If he touches you...” I started to say.
She cut me off. “I don’t want to talk about him, Bobby.” Her eyes darkened. “Because he wasn’t the reason I kissed you. I kissed you because the truth is, I’ve been wanting to kiss you, do all sorts of
other
things to you, ever since you had me pinned under you on the sidewalk.”
She swayed closer, her breasts brushing against my chest. Reflexively, I reached out and caught her waist. Fuck. She felt so good against me.
“I started hitting you because if I hadn’t, I would’ve been throwing myself at you,” she said against my lips. “It was just embarrassing. And then I kissed you. Just that brief little kiss, and it did things to me...you’re turning me into a mess, Bobby.”
She caught my lower lip between her teeth and tugged. I felt the possessiveness and heat of it all the way down to my cock. I was still clutching her waist when she eased back so she could see my face.
“So I kissed you because I wanted to, but the fact that cameras were around?” She shrugged.
I made myself listen to what came next, made myself focus on her words and not on the naked skin under that thin veil of silk.
“I was just fine with it. Because that son of a bitch cop had the nerve to insinuate that I was paying you for sex...” Her voice started to heat. “He had the nerve to insult
both
of us and he’s jerking you around like a dog on a leash. It pissed me off.”
She slid a hand up my chest, all fire and heat now, the lazy sensuality gone from her eyes, replaced by something ravenous. It twisted primal things deep inside me.
“He called you a whore, but money has nothing to do with it. The truth is, the two of us want each other bad enough to keep us up at night.”
The look on her face dared me to argue. I stared down at her, heart racing in my chest, blood pounding hard and hot in my veins. I couldn’t argue with her. It was the truth. I wouldn’t have cared if she’d had no money, if she hadn’t offered me a job. Hell, if she told me I had to choose between the money and her, I wasn’t sure which one I’d take.
She arched an eyebrow, the look sly, almost taunting.
“Fuck this,” I muttered.
This was insane. This was stupid. But it was also real, and it had been too long since I’d had something real.
I grabbed the back of her neck and hauled her to me.
Chapter 8
The door to her bedroom slammed behind us with a bang that neither of us really noticed.
I spun her around and boosted her up, her back up against the door, my hands full of the curve of her ass. She moaned as she rocked against me. I was so ready to bury myself inside her, my body hurt.
When she shoved a hand between us and dragged her palm up and down over my cock, I had to catch her wrist and pull her hand away. She just went for me with the other hand, and a noise that was a pitiful mix between a laugh and groan rumbled out of me.
“Stop,” I said, all but ready to beg. “Just...just stop, okay?”
“Why?” she asked, a sexy little pout twisting her lips.
I bit the full lower one before I answered. “Because for the last few months, the only time I’ve come, it’s been me, my shower and my hand. If you keep that up, this is going to be short and not very sweet.”