International Guy: Milan (International Guy Series Book 4) Read online

“It’s not a big deal. Really. My mom and dad are cool. Blue collar. Family oriented. Down to earth. You’ll love them, and they’ll love you.”

  “Please tell your mother I can’t wait.”

  “And I can’t wait to see you next. I feel like we need to make up.”

  “You just want the makeup sex!” she accuses, laughing.

  “Like you don’t!”

  She stifles her laughter. “This is true. Okay, as much as I hate to say it, I’ve got to go on set. I’ll have Tracey send over the statement for your review and approval.”

  “I’m sure whatever she says will be fine, but go ahead and have her send it to Wendy.”

  “Okay. I’ll call you later?”

  “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

  “Is it stupid to say I’m excited?” Her voice is whimsical, now with a lightness to it, which wasn’t there when I first called.

  I chuckle. “No, it’s not stupid. It’s a big step. I’m looking forward to where it takes us.” And I mean it. This thing with Skyler is new, but it’s also a refreshing change I firmly believe I’m ready for.

  “Me too. Call you later, pretty boy!”

  “You do that. Bye, baby.”

  Before she hangs up I hear a kiss noise. My woman air-kissed the phone.

  Fuckin’ cute. And silly.

  My woman is a dork . . . and all mine.

  I shake my head, put down the phone, and stand up. I give myself a good long stretch, realizing how insanely tired I am. I didn’t catch much sleep on the plane what with worrying over the weirdness between Sky and me before she left, and then there was coming back to the media going crazy, my woman being upset, working it out, and taking an emotional leap I once swore I never would do again.

  Once I get a hold on my equilibrium as well as my frayed emotions, I walk out to the front office.

  Wendy, Bo, and Royce are looking at her computer screen, all three of them with guilty-as-sin expressions on their faces when their gazes reach mine.

  I cross my arms over my chest. “What are you three jackals looking at?” I crook an eyebrow. “Hmm? Fess up.”

  Wendy turns the computer screen around, and front and center is a huge image of Skyler and me.

  “Damn, brother . . . ,” Royce mutters.

  “Lucky son of a bitch. Skyler Paige.” Bo shakes his head as if he still can’t believe I’m with Skyler.

  “I think you look really hot together. This site is rating you against her ex-beau, Johan Karr.” Wendy points to the screen. “Look, you’re winning by sixteen percent.”

  “Winning what?” I ask.

  “Who’s hotter, of course!”

  I sigh. “This is only the beginning, folks.”

  “Why’s that?” Wendy grins, her lips twitching knowingly.

  “Because Skyler and I agreed we’re more than seeing each other. More than casual. We’re officially in a relationship.”

  “Brother, you tellin’ me you’re off the market?” Roy asks, his dark eyebrows arching with curiosity and fishing for information.

  I nod.

  “Thank fucking Christ! Hallelujah! More chicklets for me!” Bo opens his arms as if he were about to hug the ceiling.

  Roy comes from behind the desk and claps me on the shoulder. “Good for you. She’s a knockout for sho’. Just make sure she’s treating you right. Lookin’ forward to the meet and greet. When she coming to Beantown?” His question comes off as more a command than a request.

  My brothers want to vet my woman. It’s been a long time since any of us have had to grill a brother’s mate. Too long. And with the conversation I had earlier with Roy, another one might be in the wings sooner rather than later. If he’s in the market for good woman, all the men of Boston proper better bring their A game; once smooth Royce hits the town, game time will be over for the single fellas.

  “Not sure yet,” I answer honestly. “She’s filming now. I’m going to go home, catch up on some sleep, then chat with her tonight. I’ll keep you all posted.”

  “Cool, cool.” Royce squeezes my shoulder. “We got things on lock here.”

  I grab the suitcase I left in the waiting area. “Give me a few hours before calling, yeah?” I lift my chin toward Wendy.

  “No problem, boss man.”

  I grin, and she smiles, her cheeks pinking up.

  “Oh, but don’t forget to call your mother. I have lunch with her every Wednesday, and she’s really worried about your sleep schedule. Says you travel too much and you can’t possibly be getting good sleep. Then of course there’s Skyler, who she’s dying to know more about.”

  I hold on to the handle of my suitcase and nod numbly, then turn when her words filter through my foggy, tired brain. “You have lunch with my mother every Wednesday?”

  She scrunches up her face. “Uh, yeah. I have lunch with Royce’s mom every Tuesday. Sometimes his sisters come. Depends on who’s available.”

  I grin and shake my head. “You slipped right into the family didn’t you?”

  Wendy winks and shimmies in her chair. “Yep. Got no family besides Sir Mick. Since you call each other brothers, I figured I could earn my way into being an honorary sister.”

  “Gross. I can’t fuck my sister,” Bo grumbles, then makes a gagging noise.

  “Good thing you’re never fucking me. Now get on, go find yourself a clingon, and get some rest. Need you both back in business right away. There’s a ton to go over.”

  “Bye, Wendy.” I wave.

  “Bye, boss man.”

  “Bye, Tinker Bell,” Bo says with naughty innuendo lacing his tone.

  “Bye, pencil dick.”

  Bo and I enter the elevator.

  “Wendy is great, isn’t she?” Bo smiles and adjusts his leather jacket.

  “She is.”

  When we exit, my heart lifts at the sight of my cherry-red Tesla. “Hi, pretty girl,” I coo, then open the back and toss in my suitcase. Bo chucks his bag next to mine with an “Oomph.”

  I frown. “Hey . . .”

  “Got the bike, brother. Gonna hit the bar next to the apartment, see if I can find me a repeat so I can crash hard tonight. Still too wound up from the plane ride.”

  I groan. “You are too much, man.”

  Bo cups his junk. “That’s what all the chicklets say.”

  I laugh at his quip. “Catch you on the flip.”

  Bo hikes a leg over his bike, revs the engine, and offers me a solitary chin lift before walking the bike backward and speeding off.

  Lord help us the day he gets smacked upside the head by a woman he can’t live without.

  3

  I slept the sleep of the dead last night. Barely woke to mumble a sleepy hello to Skyler when she called and then crashed hard until morning. Back at work, I finally have a minute to review the People magazine spread. I’m unimpressed. It was supposed to be labeled “Bared to You” like the book Skyler loves, but no. That would be far too much to ask. The heading now reads “Skyler Paige Bares It All” and then goes on to talk about her happy upbringing, her start in acting, and even more information on her parents’ untimely demise than is warranted.

  All the planning and special photo shoots were all twisted around. There are more pictures of the two of us kissing and being overly friendly than need to be shared. The pictures are all tasteful, which isn’t the problem. Bo took them, and the man does damn fine work. If these were private images for us to enjoy, I’d be clapping the guy on the back and thanking him for doing superb work. Only seeing my relationship with Skyler bleed out onto the pages of a top magazine is not part of my life goals.

  Frankly I’m surprised at how much they played upon our budding relationship, and I notify my lawyer of my concerns on Skyler’s behalf, as well as my own. He informs me that since we sent over the files and left the interview open ended, they could report what they wanted to report. Unfortunately all of it was true. However, the way the story was twisted didn’t speak to Skyler’s true nature or what s
he wanted to express to her fandom or the public at large, and that bothered me.

  I toss the magazine on the desk and pick up the phone, wanting to hear her voice.

  “Hey, you . . .” Her voice is sleepy and muffled.

  Sleepy Skyler. Mmm. I love sleepy Skyler. She lets me do anything to her in the morning. Go down on her, lick, nip, and suck on her breasts until she’s begging for my cock. One time, I even woke her enough so I could shove my hard dick into her mouth. She took it like a champ, sucking it down while waking up.

  I groan and fist my hand, wishing I were touching her in some way. “Morning. How’d you sleep?”

  She hums. “Good. I was exhausted. Didn’t finish up until late after I talked to you. Rick and I didn’t even have dinner until close to midnight. We ended up calling in twenty-four-hour Chinese food. I practically crashed in my kung pao chicken.” She yawns loudly.

  Rick the Prick having a midnight meal with my girl. I scowl but ignore the comment, not wanting to rile her up again after yesterday’s cock-up.

  I glance at the clock and note it’s eight. Not too early, but my woman sounds wiped. “When do you have to go back in?”

  “Noon. They had some problem with the equipment . . .”

  “Ah. Well, that’s good for you. Gives you some extra time to relax before picking it back up.”

  “Yeah.” She hums again before exhaling long and slow. God, I can so clearly recall the feeling of her waking up against me, her breath feathering out across my bare chest. I miss it more than I should.

  “I just read the People piece.”

  Silence greets me.

  “I’ve already contacted my lawyer . . .”

  Skyler yawns again. “They can’t do anything, honey. Freedom of speech and freedom of the press. Besides, everything they printed is the truth.”

  I grit my teeth. “Yes, but it wasn’t what we discussed with them.”

  “You’ll learn soon enough that nothing the press or media says is ever what they’re going to print. They always do what they want in the end. Could have been a lot worse. At least it puts us in a good light.”

  “All I know is that bridge is fucking burned to the ground,” I snarl, and run my hand through my hair, wishing there were more I could do or say.

  Sky chuckles. “Okay. Oh, I have good news for you.” Her voice takes on a sweet lilt, which acts as a balm to my frayed emotions.

  “Really? Please, for the love of God, lay it on me. I could use some good news right about now.”

  “I have the entire weekend off. Friday included. I thought maybe I could come to Boston. Meet your folks. Spend the weekend with you . . .”

  She’s not even here and the grin I’m sporting is from ear to ear.

  When the fuck did I get so excited about seeing a woman?

  Never is the answer.

  It’s Skyler. My personal game changer.

  “Sky, baby, you have made my fucking week.” Already I’m imagining all the things I want to do to her, plus the things I want to show her once I let her out of my bedroom. Of course, the guys and Wendy will want to see her. “I want you to meet Wendy and Royce too. He’s itching to grill you. Make sure you have nothing but good intentions.”

  She laughs heartily. “Awesome. I was thinking perhaps I could sneak over alone . . .”

  Immediately my hackles rise. “Peaches, I know you want to have freedom, but baby, that’s not the life you have. You gotta make sure Rachel and Nate escort you. I’m sorry, but your safety is more important than privacy. Especially since the spread came out. The paps will want a piece of you.”

  She groans and sighs loudly into the phone. “For once in my life, I’d like to be a no-name. Don’t get me wrong, I love my job, and thanks to you, I’m over my slump, but the lack of privacy is—”

  “Fucked up. Daunting. Stressful.” I can think of a hundred things to label what she must be going through, and I’ve only had a tiny taste. The paps were out in front of my building when I left for work, taking pictures, and at my office, again taking more pictures. I ignored them and moved on. It had to be a million times worse for my girl.

  “That and more.”

  “I know, Sky, but you have to be safe. There are a lot of wack-jobs out in the world. Promise me you’ll bring your crew with you?”

  She growls under her breath, sounding like a little fire-breathing dragon. “Fine.” She’s not happy about it.

  “One day we’ll figure out a better system, but for now, where you go, they go. Promise me?”

  “I promise.” She lets out what sounds like a frustrated breath.

  “Good. Now what are you wearing?” I say salaciously into the phone line, holding my breath until she gives full details.

  The knock on the door may as well be pounding against my chest. I’ve been waiting all afternoon for her to arrive, making sure my place is picked up, dirty clothes in the hamper, dishes in the dishwasher. The cleaning service came yesterday to scrub away any man filth and dust from being away so long.

  I can’t help smiling as I walk to the door and fling it open.

  There she is. My dream girl in all her glory. She’s wearing a black halter-style one-piece, which crosses delectably at her tits and flares out at the waist into wide, flowing, belled legs. Her feet are encased in a pair of sexy-as-fuck gold strappy heels. Her blonde hair is parted down the center, the long layers cascading in beachy waves over her shoulders.

  “Jesus!” I gasp, losing my cool in one word.

  Her brown eyes flare in appreciation as she takes in my dress slacks and light cashmere sweater. “You guys can go to the hotel. I don’t believe we’ll be leaving tonight,” she says, smirking.

  I finally notice Nate enter the doorframe and set her suitcase inside. He grins and winks before looping an arm around his wife. “Call if you change your plans.”

  Skyler doesn’t take her eyes off mine when she responds, “Will do.”

  I hold the door open farther. She doesn’t walk through the door, she sways inside, her small juicy ass bouncing against the thin silk fabric a bit with her efforts.

  My mouth waters with the desire to bite right into that fleshy surface. I push the door and kick it shut, locking it behind my back. She tosses her coat onto my couch and scans the area before turning around. “Nice place,” she quips, before lifting her hand to the back of her neck.

  As if in slow motion the swaths of fabric at her neck slip down, uncovering her strapless bra, and slide across her bare abdomen and over her rounded hips and toned thighs to fall straight to the floor. A scrap of black lace in the shape of a triangle is covering her sex.

  Skyler places her hands on her hips. “You going to stand there all night, staring with your mouth open, or are you going to kiss your girlfriend hello?”

  I blink stupidly a few times, taking in the swell of her breasts being pushed up by her bra, the delicate hourglass shape of her small waistline, the flare of her hips.

  “My girlfriend?” I tease. It’s the first time either of us has used the standard title people give the woman they’ve committed to seeing exclusively.

  She grins. “Mm-hmm. I read it in a newspaper this morning.”

  I take one step closer, watching her pupils dilate. “The newspaper, huh? Must be true. You know they only print facts.” I grip my sweater and undershirt in one go, pull them over my head, and toss them to the floor.

  She licks her lips when my naked chest comes into view.

  While her gaze runs up and down my chest, she reaches behind her back and unclips her bra. It falls to the floor, and I’m gifted with pale pink tips already erect due to her obvious excitement.

  I swallow around the sudden burst of arousal that hits me. My cock hardens painfully in my pants, and ripples of excitement rush along my nerve endings in every direction, readying for the moment when our skin touches for the first time.

  “Peaches, you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I’m one lucky man.” I shake my head and
fist my hands.

  She loops her hands at the tiny line of lace at each hip, pushes the fabric down, and shimmies out of it, baring every inch of her naked body. Her wet center comes into view, and I can no longer hold back my carnal response. Everything in me is straining, reaching for her . . . my dick, my hands, my entire body. In two big strides I cup her cheeks and smash her lips to mine.

  My girl opens her mouth immediately, tangling her tongue with mine. She tastes of mint and smells of peaches. I suck on her bottom lip, kissing her hard, harder than I normally would, but I can’t help it. I need to feel her and be felt by this woman.

  One of her hands tunnels into the back of my hair, holding my head to hers; the other locks around my shoulders, nails digging in for purchase. The heels she’s wearing help her stand closer to my height, making it easy to devour her mouth.

  I tilt her head and drink deep from her, solidifying everything between us.

  Lust.

  Desire.

  Need.

  We’re reconnecting in the same way we began. Only now we’re familiar. We know what the other likes and wants, making every kiss more intense. Every touch a branding of skin on skin.

  With her chest pressed flat against mine, I can finally breathe again. The tension, which weighed so heavily on me from our last day in Copenhagen until right now, is finally lifting.

  I rip my mouth from hers, both of us panting, our foreheads resting against one another.

  “God, I missed your mouth,” she whispers in the quiet space between us.

  I grin wickedly and kiss her wet lips hard before falling to my knees in front of her. I clutch her thighs when she teeters off-balance. Her hands flail but then grip my shoulders, finding purchase.

  “We can’t have you missing my mouth, now can we?” I waggle my eyebrows and inhale her delicious scent only a couple of inches from her center, taking in the familiar, rich essence of her arousal. I lick my lips and stare up at my dream girl.

  Her nails bite into my shoulders as she boldly widens her stance, opening herself to me, being vulnerable in a way I know in my heart she’s not been with another man. It’s a gift I relish and plan to honor with a dozen stellar orgasms this weekend.