Escorting the Actress (The Escort Collection 2)

He leaned up on his forearms, pumping into me more urgently. Waves of pleasure tore through me, taking me to the edge.

"Kyle," I moaned, "Kyle…"

"I'm right there with you, babe."

His strokes got deeper, even more urgent, and I shattered, my body clenching around him as he found his release. Our orgasms shook the bed.

"Kyle!" He'd been right. Of course I screamed his name.

* * *

Later, he leaned over and ran his thumb along my jawline. "So beautiful…"

I smiled. "Thank you." I meant it for a lot more than just the compliment.

He sighed and threw himself back on the bed. "So what happens now?" There was an edge to his voice.

"Well," I said, flopping onto his chest, "I could be on top again, or we could try it from behind…"

"Naughty girl." He grinned, then his face turned serious. "But I mean it. What happens now?"

I took a deep breath and rolled onto my back, looking at the ceiling. "I don't know. What do you want to happen?" The endless myriad of obstacles we faced whirled in my mind, but I ignored them, holding my breath. What on earth does Kyle Richards actually want from me?

"I sort of just want you to be my girlfriend." The edge in his voice was jagged now, as if it took a lot for him to say that.

"I am your girlfriend," I said.

"No. I mean, for real."

"So do I." I laced my fingers through his, and we continued to lie next to each other. I was still flushed and tingling from Kyle's exploration of my body. "I think this is about as real as it gets."

I was being honest. It was the truth.

But what I'd left out was the more important, more ugly truth: the fact that it was real just made everything that much worse.

Kyle

I rolled over and looked at Lowell the next morning. She was still asleep. I ran my hand down her hair and just stared, hoping I didn't wake her.

She was so beautiful that looking at her hurt.

Last night had been the best night of my life. I didn't want it to be over. I wasn't ready for today. Not yet.

We had to go see my father this morning. The fact that he wanted to speak with Lowell was ominous. I knew he'd made me an excellent offer; I also knew I couldn't accept it—not right now. But Lowell wanted me to. My father was smart; if he suspected that Lowell cared for me, he'd want her to hear him out.

But I couldn't leave Lowell. She had her premiere coming up. She still had to deal with Lucas and the fallout from her puking incident. She still needed me.

But I was fooling myself. She didn't need me. I needed her.

I watched her chest rise and fall peacefully. The truth was, I didn't want to be away from her. I didn't want to send her back to big, bad Los Angeles alone, even though she was more than capable of handling herself. It wasn't just that I didn't want to let her down—I didn't want to be away from her.

Not now. Not ever.

Last night had confirmed my feelings for her. But I had to make some real changes in my life. If I was ever going to have something to offer her, I needed a career. I couldn't be her boyfriend if I was just an ex-escort or a less-than-minimum-wage surfing instructor.

I also knew my father's offer was the only one I would get. I had no resume, no education, no experience. So I had to find a way for him to understand that I would accept the position, but I needed a little more time. After Lowell's premiere, I would go to work for him and become legitimate and build my own life.

Then I would finally be the man Lowell deserved.