“Sorry, mister, but your schmexy skills aren’t reason enough for me to go hungry.”
He abruptly straightens up, his eyes flashing. Yikes. Clearly, honesty is not always the best policy. In a second, he wraps his arms around my waist, trapping me against his chest. His naked chest.
He has an advantage over me right here—all that skin on display makes it hard to think of anything beyond how lickable he is. I become aware that we’re moving toward the bed. I get all tingly at the prospect of more sexy time. A second later, I remember I had a good reason to say no. Then I remember my hands are free. I can use all this shameless display of hard chest against him. More for me to touch and taunt. I start my grand plan by splaying a palm on his chest. Then I have a stroke of genius, and I lick his nipple. That earns me a groan.
I lick the other nipple. Alex presses his hips against me, and I feel his erection wedged between us. Hmm... I’m not sure if I’m winning this.
He’s losing composure with every passing second, but we’re also moving in the direction of the bed. Did I mention I’m hot and bothered as hell?
“I mean it. I want to get my lunch,” I warn.
“No, you don’t. You want me. You tempt me, be prepared for the consequences.”
He skims a large hand over my breast, as if to prove a point. I bite my lip as my sensitive nipple grazes the fabric of the bra. I’ve got to give it to him. Point proven. Now, how to torment him in return? I shimmy my lower body, feeling his hard and hot length pulsing against me. I hear a growl low in his throat. His control hangs on a thin thread. Yep, time to cut that thread. He’s at my mercy here. I’d feel like a powerful seductress if I wasn’t at his mercy just as much.
His gaze is molten, his mouth hard as he pulls me into a kiss so hot and dirty, I might never recover. This man will climb into my heart and stay there. I know this with the certainty I know that my name is Summer Bennett. This doesn’t keep me from giving in to him.
Oops, I guess I lost the battle. But if I’m honest, when it comes to feeling Alex’s lips and hands all over my body, there’s no losing, only winning.
***
Alex
“You’re right. I should buy more, or my nieces and nephews will fight over them,” Summer says almost a week later, scanning the racks with magnets. We’ve been in the resort’s shop for thirty minutes and are having a blast buying souvenirs for our families.
I like that I can be myself around Summer, that we can have fun doing even the simplest things. I often feel like an impostor in Hollywood, where liking extravagant parties and exorbitant clothing is a requirement to fit in. Summer doesn’t look at me as if she’s measuring my net value in everything I do or say.
“Okay, I’ll buy one of each,” she declares, nodding at the vendor. Once we’re out of the shop, her phone pings. She pulls it out of her bag, her brow scrunching when she reads the lengthy e-mail.
“My boss. I pitched an idea about featuring young artists, but she’s not a fan. It’s important to nurture young talents. Having confidence in them boosts their own self-confidence.”
“You’re right. One of the reasons I like to give feedback to young actors. Come to think of it, why don’t you have your own gallery? You have the funds to open it.”
She smiles impishly. “It’s my dream to open one. I’d display collections by established painters and classics in one part, and new talents in another. I’d also love to offer painting classes.”
“That sounds like a plan. Why don’t you do it?”
“I opened a gallery after I graduated college. It failed spectacularly. I was... naive. I was too focused on young talents, and that’s not a draw with the masses. Never even came close to making a profit, so I closed up shop. Worked at several museums afterward, including abroad in Rome.”
“You know what they say. Nothing is really a failure, but a learning experience.”
She waves her hand. “I don’t mind calling things by their real name. Learning experience or not, failure is failure.”
I take in her delicate frame. She might be small and fragile-looking, but Summer is made of a stronger clay than most people I know.
“You have more experience now,” I reason.
“So my family keeps saying.”
“I like your family already. So, what’s holding you back?”
“Oh, courage, where art thou? I’m still looking for it. I’ll let everyone know when I find it.”
I’d like to be there when she does, hear her tell me all about it.
“I can take both our gift bags to
my room,” I tell her. She has a painting class now, and I have some free time.