Page 42 of Out of the Gold

Chase

My hand tugson the hair at the back of my head. It’s as if virtual ice-cold water pours over me. Avirgin? I take deep breaths to control my rampaging desire—is this my simple normal desire to plunge into her, or . . . an overwhelming need to be her first?

And only.

I push away from her body and toss her dress over her nearly-naked body. Grabbing my shirt off the floor, I glide it over my torso.

Melody needs to be with someone she loves for her first time. Or at least thinks she loves. No matter the fact that I’m falling hard for her. She’s so unlike any other woman I’ve ever known. Beguiling. Bewitching. Beautiful.

“I should go,” I murmur. Forcing myself to the door, I refuse to look back at the wanton, amazingvirginstrewn across the bed. One glance and I’m afraid I’d be back on top of her.

I stand stillwhile Melody sews me into the leggings. Her hands—so passionate last night—are too professional. Like a gnat, Thomas circles around us, clicking his damn pen, scribbling down my responses to his insipid questions. I want him to leave so I can be alone with Goldie.

Howcan a woman like her still be a virgin? I spent all last night unable to answer this question.

Thomas asks, “What do you think?”

Huh? I have no idea what he’s talking about. “Uhm, okay?”

His eyebrows rise. “Really? You’ll accept the invitation to go on the talk show?”

What? “No, wait a minute. What talk show?”

My PA sighs. With deliberate enunciation, he replies, “I said, theEvening with Eddiefolks want to interview you the day after filming wraps here.”

I close my eyes. “Oh, shit. No way. I won’t be in any shape to do TV then. Tell Eddie I’ll catch up with him later.”

His pen clicks. “Already did.”

I grumble, “Then why did you ask?”

“Because you told me to tell you about all invitations.”

My eyelids slam shut. I’m all up in knots because of my dresser, but I shouldn’t take it out on Thomas. He’s a good guy. “You’re right. I’m sorry, my mind was elsewhere.” Entrancing hazel eyes meet mine. I need to get her alone.

I clear my throat. “So, Thomas, have I answered all your questions for now?”

He consults his clipboard. “Yeah, we’re good, boss.”Click, click. “I need to restock your fridge.”

Which means he’ll be out of my trailer. “Go on. I’ll be on set soon, so there’s no rush.”

“Will do.” He bends down and says something to Melody that I can’t hear, and my blood pumps faster. What’s this? Jealousy?

“Appreciate it, though,” Melody responds to my PA. With a salute to me, he leaves us alone in the trailer.

Finally.

Melody rises to her feet. “Can you please walk to check out how the leggings fit?” Her voice sounds forced.

I bend my knees and pace throughout the trailer, not paying any attention to the fit. No. My mind is focused on the woman who sewed me into them.

“They look good. How do they feel?” She swipes a bottle of spring water.

Instead of responding, I open the fridge. “Would you like to try some of my specialty water? It’s much better than regular.”

She tips the bottle to her lips. Lips that were on mine last night. Lips attached to her sinful body—which no one has touched. But me. An unusual spark makes me stand taller.

“Thanks, but I don’t like carbonation in my water. I’m a plain girl.”

---