Page 17 of Drawn to You
The moment we get out of my car, Melissa loops an arm around my arm possessively as if we were a couple. While waiting for the elevator, she leans forward to kiss me. I have no choice but to let her lips press on mine.
Melissa loves to stay in expensive hotels. And because she’s a celebrity, she often gets discounts. She pours each of us a whiskey on the rocks, and we go out to the balcony. The view on the twentieth floor is quite fantastic. I take a sip from my glass and gaze ahead.
Melissa places her glass on top of a balcony table and steps behind me. Wrapping her arms around my waist, she says, “I’ve missed you, Andrew.”
Something is different about Melissa tonight. She’s usually less clingy. We had a one-night stand two years ago when she did the advertisement for the gym, but that was it. She flirts with me when we meet occasionally, but nothing serious. I guess like me, she’s had a dry spell for a while.
I need to back off, but her voice is husky, and my cock responds to it. Hell, I have lots of steam to blow off lately. My heart races as I think quickly. Another one-night stand wouldn’t hurt, would it?
Melissa’s hands find their way into my shirt and are now stroking my abs. “I love your muscles, Andrew,” she whispers. “So firm.”
Fuck. I put down my drink too and turn to look at her. The moment I see her face, I come to my sense. Melissa is a beautiful, sexy woman that millions of guys on earth are dying to have, but she’s also shallow and, frankly, conceited. I’ve seen how much she enjoys wrapping men around her little finger and playing cat and mouse with them. I would only be one of her numerous conquests if I yielded to her temptation again.
While batting her eyelashes at me, she runs her hand over my biceps again. I get hold of her wrist and move it away.
“I should get going,” I say. “Thanks for the drink.”
Her face falls. “Are you seeing someone?”
I consider. I don’t want to be rude, after all. “Sort of.”
“Who? Was she at the party today? Not the little red-head?”
“No!” I say quickly, knowing she meant Britt. “What gave you that idea?”
“Because she glanced at you a lot, looking lovesick.”
“She did?” I respond casually, hardly able to hide my delight. “I didn’t see it.” It’s a lie. I was aware of Brittney’s eyes following me throughout the afternoon, especially whenever Melissa threw herself at me. She looked hurt the moment I left with Melissa. Shit. What the hell have I done to her? She couldn’t be still thinking about the kiss I erroneously planted on her, could she? What is she doing now? The image of her staying in my house by herself suddenly pains me. I need to go home to her. “I need to go, Melissa. It’s nice to see you again.”
Melissa mutters something under her breath, but she doesn’t stop me from heading for the door. Nonetheless, I let out a breath of relief when I’m out of the hotel room. Damn. It’s probably not a wise business decision to refuse the model, but to hell with it.
I drive home on the street that’s quiet than usual because of the holiday. Once in a while, I see fireworks lighting the sky. It’ll be a gorgeous view in my yard. It’ll be nice sitting side by side with Brittney and enjoy the view. The thought of the girl makes my heart flutter.
I avoided her for two weeks, although it drove me nuts to do so. I avoided speaking to her at work, and I spent most of the nights chatting to the bartenders at the bar. But not a moment went by in the past days without me thinking about her. She’s so passionate and diligent with her job and has gotten good at it in just two weeks. I’m jealous just to see my employees' and clients' smiles when they spoke to her. I’m suddenly driven by the desire to be with her. I turn into my driveway so quickly I nearly run my car into the garage door.
“Brittney!” I call out as soon as I step into the living room. No answer. I call again. Still no response. I know she’s home because her truck is on the street. I rush into her room. The door is open, but she isn’t in.
She must be in the yard. I glance out from the window but see no one, and then I hear humming and see a movement in the hot tub.
Blood rushes south the moment my eyes focus on the sight of Britt. She’s standing with her back toward the house, enjoying the firework and the city view. I suppose she’s singing along with her phone, and that explains her lack of response to my shouts.
Christ. Even from a distance, she looks gorgeous. She’s wearing hardly anything except a few strings winding around her body—a skimpy bikini. Her hair is put up into a bun, and she’s shaking her butt and dancing in the tub. Fuck me.
I find myself walking toward the sliding door, taking off my shirt and my jeans as I go. My attention is so focused on Brittney I don’t see the beer can hidden in the middle of the path until I trip on it. “Shit!” I curse as I regain my balance, but the noise alarms Britt.
She gasps and turns right away. “Oh, Andrew! I’m sorry. I … I didn’t think you were coming back… and so soon!” she says as she unplugs her earbuds.
“I’m glad you didn’t think so,” I say as I jump into the water and stand right next to her. She’s so fucking gorgeous. Her bikini top barely covers her tits, but I still have an overwhelming desire to pull it down so I can see more. The shapes of her hard points make my mouth dry.
Her sparkling eyes roam over my body as she backs toward the corner, and she bites her bottom lip. The desire on her face is unmistakable, and it makes me harder with every passing second.
She’s assessing my biceps, and then my chest, and then her eyes glide down, and down. Now her lips part a bit, and I know that’s a silent “wow.” She’s found the tent in my boxers. Damn. The knowledge that she’s aware of what I want excites me, and my cock stretches and swells. I know I shouldn’t, but I feel the need to block it with my hand. I watch her eyes turn dreamy as I do that.
“You can’t blame me,” I say when she meets my eyes. “It’shotin here!”
Her breathing turns shallow. “You’re right,” she mumbles. “I should probably go back to the house.”
She makes an attempt to move toward the stairs, but as her arm brushes against mine, I grab it and pull her to me. “Don’t go, Britt.” My voice is gruff, and I know I sound like a horny bastard.
