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I watch her throat undulate as she swallows and moves our faces an inch closer. Our lips are a scant two inches apart. Not only can I smell her tequila-coated breath, but the peach scent surrounding her is so strong I have to close my eyes as it teases my senses. I grip her nape tighter.

  “I’m going to kiss you, Sky.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and you smell like peaches. You scrunch up your nose when you’re uncertain of something, and it’s the cutest fucking thing . . . ever.” I run my nose along hers, bringing our lips practically on top of one another. “Everything I see before me contradicts everything I’ve seen in the media.”

  “You don’t know me.” Those four words are said against my lips, but her nails are digging into my thigh, proving she does indeed want to know me better.

  “Skyler, I’m trying to change that,” I whisper against her mouth, before pressing our lips together.

  She moans, opening her mouth just enough for me to delve in. I tip her head to the side, nudge her lips farther apart, and take what I’ve wanted since the second I laid eyes on her. And I’m not talking about when she opened the door half-dressed. I’m talking about when I saw her stunning face on the cover of Teen Magazine a decade ago.

  The kiss turns wild. Passion mixed with alcohol is an accelerant beyond any other. Before I know it, Skyler is in my lap, grinding her crotch against my dick in the most delightful manner. One of my hands is on her ass, the other curled around her nape so I can get at her tasty mouth.

  Together we sound like the animal kingdom, moaning, gasping, grunting, and losing all control. I slide a hand up her rib cage and palm her full tit. She rewards the move by pressing down hard against my erection.

  It dawns on me when she’s got my shirt unbuttoned and her mouth on my nipple that I’ve just met this woman. We’ve just downed several shots of tequila and only eaten a PB&J.

  In deference to my better judgment and much to my hard cock’s dismay, I run my hands under her arms and tug her back up to eye level. “We can’t do this,” I grate, running my fingers along the outside of her now-bare arms. She has the same camisole on as when she opened the door. The hoodie she threw on over it has been tossed to the floor.

  Skyler runs her fingers through my hair and tugs at the roots, tipping my head back. Her brown eyes are blazing with lust, her lips a cherry red from my endless kisses. Her cheeks are a rosy pink, and her thick hair is a wild mess of waves around her face.

  “Christ, you’re beautiful.”

  “So why did you stop?” She leans forward and kisses me, nibbling on my bottom lip and soothing it with a swipe of her tongue.

  I groan and grip her hips hard. “Jesus, I’m insane. Fucking certifiable.”

  “Let’s be crazy together.” She grins and rubs her sexy body along mine, making it almost impossible to lift her up to stand, but I do anyway.

  Space, we need space.

  “Skyler, as much as I want this, and you know I do . . .”

  Her hand flies out, and she palms my hard cock. She grins. “Yeah, I got that, Biggie.”

  Biggie?

  She’s referring to “the beast.” Fuck! Cute.

  I clasp her hands and bring them to behind her back. I press my forehead against hers. “I want to slow things down. Continue getting to know you. Help you through your issue.”

  She laughs and nuzzles my neck, where she works her mouth up the length in a series of kisses and small flicks of her tongue.

  “Sky,” I groan. “I’m trying to do the right thing here.” Each press of her lips to my neck sends spikes of pleasure rippling down through my body. My cock jolts at the sensation, urging me to take her.

  Sky lays down the gauntlet. “The right thing would be fucking the sad right out of me.” Her eyes light with wonder. “Hell, why didn’t I think of it sooner!”

  With unbelievable strength, she wriggles her arms out of my hold, puts her hands on my shoulders, and jumps up so that I have to grab her ass when her legs wrap around my waist. She has her mouth on mine and her tongue down my throat so fast I can’t do anything but succumb, at least for the length of time it takes me to get to her bedroom.

  She laughs with unguarded glee as I fall to the bed, her on top of me. This is where things get tricky. Her hand is working my pants open while her mouth is feasting on mine.

  When she finagles a bare hand under my boxer briefs and around my hard cock, I thrust my hips up in heavenly delight. Her hand is warm, strong, and locked down until she runs it up the full length and swirls her thumb around the wet tip.

  “Fuck!” I groan, thrusting into her devilish hand.

  “Mmm. Definitely Biggie.” She bites down on my pec, then runs her lips along my abs. She’s got her tongue tracing one of my abdominal muscles before I realize her destination is below the belt.

  Heaven and hell at the same time.

  “No. Sky, not hap’nin’.”

  She raises her head, and her hair tickles against the bare skin of my abdomen. “’Scuse me? I’ve never, not ever, had a man not want me to go down on him.” She frowns and sits up. “I know you want me.” She points down at my tented boxers through my open pants.

  “Every man wants you.” I cover my dick and push back, giving both of us some much-needed space.

  “Then what’s the matter?” She licks her lips, and it’s all I can do to not grab her by the back of the neck and bring her succulent mouth back down to meet my cock.

  “Skyler, when I fuck you, we’re not going to be drunk on tequila. You’re going to be stone-cold sober, have had the best day of your life, and you’re going to look at me as if I walk on fuckin’ water.”

  She snorts as if she doesn’t believe me. “That’s a tall order.”

  “That’s the fuckin’ truth. This”—I point between me and her—“is far more than I ever expected happening, especially only hours after meeting you.”

  She runs a hand through her hair, her face contorting into a grimace. “Are you insinuating I’m loose?” Her head jerks back in disgust.

  I shake my head furiously. “Not even close. What I’m insinuating is I’m feeling a lot of things for you, some I can’t explain with tequila brain, and I know you’re feeling them about me too.”

  “You sound like a girl,” she responds rather flippantly, crossing her arms, a new, bitchier side of her coming to the surface. Still, her bitchy side is hot as Hades.

  I laugh and turn my body so that I’ve got a foot on the floor. “Skyler, I want to enjoy what’s happening between us. Help you out with what I’ve been hired to do. Part of that is getting to know you.”

  She grins, crawls across the bed, swings a leg over my lap, and straddles my thighs. “I thought we were getting to know one another rather nicely.”

  I close my eyes when her lips hit mine. For a long time, I kiss Skyler Paige. Taste every inch of her mouth. Suck her tongue. Lick her teeth. Cement her taste into my memory. Her fingers push back into my hair, her nails running down my scalp. A searing ribbon of pleasure ripples down my spine, and I wrap both arms around her back, needing to touch her, hold her close. She seems content to just stay in my lap and let me kiss her silly.

  We kiss for what seems like forever. When I finally pull away, my lips are bruised, hot, and swollen. Sky is no longer raring to go. Her eyes are at half-mast, and she’s blinking in slow, almost weighted movements.

  “I see I’ve got Sleepy Skyler.” I peck her lips, and she yawns.

  With one hand on her back and the other free, I pull back her comforter and top sheet. She sees the move and lets go of me, her new destination clear. Bed.

  Thank Christ.

  When I get her onto the pillow, she says, “Pants.”

  I suck in a full breath. You can do this, Park. You’ve taken off many pairs of pants in your day. Skyler is just another beautiful woman.

  Except she’s not. She’s Skyler freakin’ Paige. My dream woman.

  Resetting
my resolve, I dip over her form, curl my fingers into the waistband of her yoga pants, and tug them down her legs, leaving her in the tiny blue panties that made my mouth water.

  There. Easy.

  I toss the pants to the end of the bed and pull the covers up. When I move to turn around, her eyes open suddenly and she grips my wrist. “Don’t leave. Stay with me.”

  “Skyler . . .”

  “Please stay. Just sleep.” Her voice is bordering on begging, and I can’t for the life of me understand why.

  Tired and lust drunk as well as possibly a little drunk drunk, I firm up my jaw and nod tightly. Making my way around the bed, I remove my pants and dress shirt, setting them on top of her yoga pants at the end of the bed. Skyler watches my every move, her eyes widening at my mostly naked form.

  “Just sleep.” I pull back the covers and slip into the other side.

  She smiles and nuzzles her face into her pillow like a child who’s happy she just got her way.

  Fuckin cute.

  “’K.”

  I flick off the light by my side of the bed and let out a long sigh, my mind running rampant.

  How the hell did I get in Skyler Paige’s bed?

  Why did I let it get this far this fast?

  Of course, I know the answer to my questions is because I’ve crushed on her since forever. Compared every woman I’ve ever dated to her beauty since the dawn of time. Okay, maybe not that long, but for a long damn time. Now I’ve tasted her skin, lips, felt the weight of her breast, squeezed her tight little ass—and I’m now lying in a bed with her mostly naked. Trying to do the right thing. The honorable thing.

  Skyler rolls over, hooks a knee over my thigh and an arm over my abdomen.

  Honor goes out the window. At least a little bit of it.

  I curve my arm around her form and rest my hand on her hip, fingers sliding along soft skin. She snuggles in closer, her breath puffing against my chest.

  “Thank you for coming, Parker. I like you,” she murmurs in a childlike, sleepy tone.

  “I like you too, Sky.”

  Not being able to help it, I press my lips to her temple and give her a soft kiss there. She lets out one more sigh and hums.

  With the most beautiful woman in New York City—heck, arguably the world—in my arms, I close my eyes and allow myself to pass out.

  Chapter 4

  The room is dead silent when I wake up the next morning. A small ache at my temples reminds me how many shots of tequila I consumed on a somewhat empty stomach. A PB&J does not a dinner make. Besides, it was lunch. We sailed right past dinner talking, and drank our way through the evening before things got a whole helluva lot more interesting between Skyler and me.

  Thinking of Skyler, I turn my head to the empty pillow next to me. Her peaches-and-cream scent fills every inch of the bed, clouding my mind. I rub my face into her pillow, allowing myself a selfish moment to soak up her smell before I knife out of bed, find my pants, and slip them on to go search out my client.

  I shake my head and run my fingers through my hair, hitting the bathroom to take care of business. I see Skyler’s toothbrush and figure since I’ve had my tongue down her throat, she shouldn’t have a problem with me using her toothbrush and ridding the world of my tequila breath.

  After giving my teeth one heck of a scrubbing, I mosey out of her room wearing only my pants. My dress shirt is mysteriously gone from the bed, leaving me no choice but to go bare chested.

  Near her bedroom is what looks like an office, with stack after stack of white paper bundles an inch or so thick. If I didn’t know better, I’d say they were reams of paper, but they’re most likely scripts piling up that she’s avoiding due to her new problem. The room right next to her office is sparsely furnished. It has sari fabrics hanging from the walls and Buddhist-type decorations on low shelves and tables, along with a plethora of pillows on the floor. Mixed in with the pillows are a couple of open yoga mats. Snickering, I keep going and discover a guest bath and a laundry room. Once I’ve made it to the living room, I find the half-full Patrón bottle and the shot glasses from last night but no Skyler. Farther down, I can see the kitchen light is on, but again, no Skyler. Entering the room, I see a coffeepot that has yet to be turned on.

  Knowing nothing of intelligence is going to exit my mouth without immediate access to caffeine, I find the coffee, a filter, and fill the machine up with water before flicking it on. Once I can see the brown liquid of the gods pouring into the carafe, I continue my journey through Skyler’s house to find the leggy blonde.

  I hear a whirring noise in the distance, and I figure since that’s the only sound, I may as well head in that direction. I walk past a guest bedroom and what looks like a library/shrine to the movies she’s made and the awards she’s received. As much as I want to dig into this side of her, I move toward the noise. The whirring gets louder, and I see a crack in a doorway with light beyond it.

  Pushing open the door, I find Skyler in my dress shirt and a pair of running shoes, hair in a messy bun on the top of her head, running at full speed on a treadmill in what is her personal gym. A weight machine is in another corner, plus a stair-stepper and an elliptical along with a long bench of free weights.

  What the hell is she doing?

  Her brown eyes are panicked when they meet my gaze. “Parker.” She’s out of breath. Across the gaping opening in the front where she neglected to button the top few, I can see her bouncing, glistening, unencumbered tits. From the looks of the sweat pouring down her neck, she’s been at this awhile.

  “Sky, what are you doing?” I blink, trying to understand why she’d be running, having had no coffee, wearing only my dress shirt and a pair of sneakers apparently without socks.

  “Gotta run.”

  I cross my arms and rub at my bare biceps, watching her thoughtfully. “Why?”

  “Need to exercise.” Her words are flat, and her gaze switches to the television, where she’s got the entertainment channel playing.

  Taking a few steps closer until I can physically touch her, I place my hand on the treadmill, curve my neck so I can see the display, and find she’s been on it for an hour already.

  “How much longer are you going to be?”

  She glances at the display and back up. “Don’t know. Until the calories are gone.”

  “Calories?” I jerk my head. “Say what?”

  She flinches at my tone. “Unlike you . . .” This time, her eyes run down my form appraisingly before her assessment turns hard. “. . . I have to work extra hard to stay fit. One pound gained and I’m off the best-dressed list.” She presses a few buttons, and her incline goes up a couple of degrees higher.

  “Sky, did you wake up and go straight to the machine?”

  Her lack of response is answer enough.

  “Why are you worried about this?”

  “Alcohol. My nutritionist will have my hide if she finds out I drank myself drunk last night. Alcohol is only allowed in the smallest amount on my diet.”

  “Fuck your diet and fuck your nutritionist!” I state with an alarming sense of protectiveness I haven’t displayed for a woman in quite a while. A burning sensation washes over me, and I decide to spill my guts. “Skyler, your body is beautiful. As a matter of fact, you could gain ten pounds, twenty even, and it would still be stunning. On the other hand, if you lose another pound, you’ll start edging toward skin and bones. And you gotta know, baby, skin and bones is not attractive.”

  Skyler turns her head to me, a scowl firmly in place. “What do you know about a woman’s weight? According to my nutritionist and physical trainer, I’m over the standard weight an actress should be. The camera already adds ten pounds. I can’t afford to gain another.”

  “Like I said. Fuck your nutritionist and fuck your trainer!”

  Her voice is scathing when she replies. “I’ve already fucked my trainer. Didn’t much like it. He’s selfish in bed. However, I like the results I get from training with him, so I kept Trevo
r in that capacity. The sexual tension between us is gone now that we’ve done the deed, and I don’t want seconds. Well, he does, but I don’t . . .” She continues talking, bumbling along, and suddenly the thought of her naked with some beefcake trainer makes a muscle in my jaw tick.

  “. . . makes it easier to focus on the workout.” She barely finishes before losing her breath but continues running at full speed.

  My eyes about bug out of my head. I grind my teeth, wanting to demand she fire the trainer immediately, but knowing I have zero say in her life. I haven’t earned that clout. Still, the irritation inside me is boiling, so I slap the button to instantly stop the machine. She jumps her feet out to the sides and sends daggers with her gaze.

  “What the heck!” she fires off.

  I grab her wrist and tug her off the machine and into my arms, sweat and all. “Skyler, your team is part of your problem. You shouldn’t have to run yourself ragged to do your job. You are in the position in your career to choose the roles you want. I get that you have to keep a healthy weight, but having a night of fun doesn’t mean you turn around the next day and punish yourself. It means you eat right, exercise normally, and drink a ton of water. Part of what we need to do is change your frame of thought. You need to own up to what it is you”—I point a righteous finger at her chest—“want out of your career, because right now, you’re killing yourself for something you’re starting to hate.”

  Her lip quivers. “I hate running.”

  “Then stop doing it, Sky. Find a different option for exercise you do like. Or maybe, try running through the park.”

  She shakes her head, and her voice cracks. “Can’t do that. The paparazzi follow me everywhere I go. They’re relentless.”

  I ease one arm up her back and the other around her waist before I pull her against my chest. She rests her sweaty head against my bare skin, and although it should be uncomfortable, having her plastered to my form is exactly what feels right. I dip my head, kiss her forehead, and whisper against it, “We’ll figure something out. You can’t live like a princess locked in her castle.”

  Her body jolts and the tears fall. With them come huge, body-racking sobs. I hold her through it until I’m seated on the floor, my legs crossed, her thighs over mine, and her legs and arms wrapped around me. Her face is planted in the crook of my neck and shoulder.