Selling Scarlett (Love Inc 1)

“Ms. Heat?” He asks as he strides down the hall. I’m surprised when he snatches her arm.

“Hal, I—”

“Mr. West has placed you on the do-not-admit list,” he says, as he hauls her off. “I don’t know how you got in, but it’s time for you to go.”

Priscilla shrieks, and I watch as he tosses her over his shoulders and marches toward the stairs.

As they disappear from sight, and I sink down in front of Hunter’s door and try to catch my breath.

WHEN I STEP BACK into Hunter’s room, I find he’s still sleeping. I hesitate only a minute before unraveling the sheet from around my body and laying it gently over his. I slip back into my teddy and robe and go next door to call Suri.

“Hi.” I smile, feeling oddly content after my little run-in with Priscilla.

“Hi! Lizzy, how is everything? I want to hear about it all. I’m sorry I haven’t been a good friend this last little while. Has he put the moves on you?”

“Sort of.” I blush. “But I want to hear about Cross first.”

She says Cross is awake, but he’s quiet and moody. I smile, because that sounds about right.

“I’m sure he’d love to talk to you, but there’s a social worker in there with him now. Do you want to call back later?”

I agree to do that, and after a few more minutes of filling her in on the day’s events, I hang up and go back into the room with Hunter. I slip into the bed and snuggle up to him. Within seconds, his eyes are open and he’s blinking at me.

He reaches out and thumps my nose as a gentle smile spreads over his lips. “How are you?”

“Good,” I whisper. “How are you?”

He sits up, revealing his amazing chest, and I worry I may combust. I think he notices, because he smirks and runs his finger up my throat, the way you might stroke a cat. It makes me shiver, and I find myself giggling like a teenager.

As he slides off the bed—totally, gloriously nude—and begins to look for his clothes, he peeks over his shoulder. “I’m sorry about earlier. Damned embarrassing.” It takes me a second to realize he’s talking about the mess he made of his room—not about Priscilla.

“Oh, it’s fine. Don’t be embarrassed.”

He grabs some boxer-briefs off the floor, and my eyes linger on his perfect package as he steps into them. Damn.

“I’ve thrown things around since I was a kid. It’s how I used to deal with anger I guess.”

I nod, toying with the silky sheets. “You lost your mom. It makes sense that you would have had some anger issues.”

He gives me a charming little sideways smile. “You’re a wise one, Libby DeVille.”

I arch a brow. “My mom has been hard in other ways.”

“I can believe that.” I watch in bliss as he throws a few handfuls of clothes into one of the drawers, his chest rippling. As he steps toward my side of the bed, I know I must be flushed. I watch as he swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I know we haven’t gotten to the main event yet. I just wanted you to know that it’s not because I don’t want to.”

My blush gets blushier. “Thank you,” I say awkwardly. “That’s nice to know.”

He leans against the bed and pulls me up against his chest. “If I’d known what I was missing out on, I’d have looked you up a while ago. Actually,” he adds with a smirk, “I sort of did.”

“You did?”

He nods. “One day I just got curious about little Libby DeVille, and I looked you up in the campus registry. Kind of a pervy thing to do when you’re in your mid-20s.”

I laugh. “You liar. You’re thirty.”

“Indeed I am, but I wasn’t then.”

Holy crap. Hunter looked me up when I was an undergrad?

He squeezes my shoulder as he steps away, grabbing another handful of clothes and hauling them over to his dresser, and I work hard at not overheating as I watch his taut ass. Ah, and those long, muscled legs.

His back still makes me sad. I open my mouth to tell him about Priscilla. At that moment, though, he stuffs the clothes into his drawer and comes back over to me. He leans against the bed, and I notice how radiant his face looks as he looks down at me. I have to struggle not to grin, because it feels so good.

“I’m sorry that you saw me acting like a dumbass, but I’m glad you’re here. It’s been...a break. A nice break, Libby DeVille.” He reaches out and twirls the end of a strand of my hair, the way he likes to do sometimes.

I wink. “Maybe you should take breaks more often.”

His fingers rumple my hair, and he leans down close to brush his lips over mine. I’m lost in the warmth and softness of our kiss, and then his tongue as it strokes mine, shivering at the nibbling teases of his teeth. He climbs into bed, resting his delicious weight on top of me, and he’s hard and I’m restless and I’m grabbing that blond hair and staring into those cat eyes. When I pull away to gasp for air between our kisses, I really think this might be it. Maybe I’m finally going to get laid.