Одри Карлан - January (Calendar Girl #1)

Chapter 4

When we got back to the house later that evening, I feigned being tired and practically ran to my room, shutting and locking the door. I’d waited by the door, straining to hear through the wood if he was going to follow me. As much as I wanted to be with him, as in between the sheets, I really should keep distance between us. I hadn’t had enough time to talk myself out of becoming emotionally attached to Wes. He was so nice, down to Earth, made a point to include me in business related conversations even if they were pretty casual. It would be wise for me to remember my place. I was nothing more than the hired help.

Then again, why couldn’t I have fun? I was an adult, he was an incredibly hot, willing man. We were young and had the better part of a month to be around one another. If tonight’s sexual chemistry was anything to go by, I’d bet my bike that he was stellar in the bedroom. It would do me well to get a good rogering, loosen me up. It had been a year since I’d had sex and my vibrator wasn’t cutting it anymore. I needed that physical connection. A warm, male body.

I stood in the center of the room looking around at all varying shades of white. The bed looked like a white fluffy cloud. I bet it was comfortable, too. Wes didn’t seem like the type of guy to skimp on the luxury fabrics for his guests. No, he’d make sure everything was just so. Walking around the room I debated my next move. He was out there somewhere. According to the clock on the nightstand, it was very late. One o’clock in the morning. We’d had a great time. I made a game of counting how many times a gold digger approached him, and how many times I’d gotten the stink eye. Twenty-four. He had twenty-four admirers in one evening. It made complete sense why he needed to hire a buffer. If he actually spent any length of time talking to those women, he wouldn’t have made contact with any of the producers, directors, or actors he had gone to the event to see.

And Wes was perfectly in his element. He moved around the room like oil swirling through water, slinky, liquid, and never co-mingling longer with one person than another. I was pretty sure there was a method to his madness, but I didn’t ask. I just followed along and played buffer. When a stick with boobs approached, I’d turn, introduce myself and make it a point to touch and lean on Wes enough that the woman would scowl and slither away like the snake she was. They all were. Aside from Wes’s mother, Claire, I did not meet one decent woman. And very few over the age of twenty-five. It seemed as though older men in the business liked to have a piece of eye candy attached to them. The women just stood by their side with vapid eyes staring out the windows as they teetered on spiked heels and sipped absurdly expensive champagne. Probably to the point where they spent the evening completely stoned off the booze but not so much that they were shitty.

I guess if you thought about it, I wasn’t much different. Technically, I was by Wes’s side for the same reason they all were. Money. I needed it, and whether or not they needed it or wanted it, it really didn’t make a difference. Having put those thoughts together, I felt a sourness hit my gut, twitching uncomfortably. That high from the evening left me in a rush of disgust.

Before I knew what I was doing, I was walking through the darkened house. When I reached the living room, I moved to a hallway I hadn’t seen before. There were a single set of double doors at the end. Pressing my ear to the door I could hear the sound of a television. Surprising even myself, I knocked.

“Come in,” I heard Wes say.

On a deep inhale, I opened the door. He sat leaning against the headboard of a massive sleigh bed. The room was dark, cave-like with a lit fireplace on one side of the room and on the other a wall of glass windows with what I suspected was an ocean view, knowing which side of the house that window faced. The curtains were mostly closed. Manly, heavy looking wood furniture dotted the walls. I looked over at the TV, and it was paused on what looked like a soccer game.

Wes didn’t say anything when my gaze finally made it to his. He hadn’t moved an inch, either. The skin of his bare chest glowed a golden brown from the light of the fireplace as he reclined in only a pair of pajama bottoms. Christ, he was a work of art. The firelight flickered off the hills and valleys of his muscled abdomen, and defined pecs making me salivate. My heart started pumping so hard in my chest I was sure he could hear it, too. Instead of going back to my room, pretending I had to ask him something or feigning I was lost, I lifted my hand up to the halter clasp on my dress and tugged.

In one swift movement, the dress fell to the floor in a heap of purple silk. Wes gasped as I moved the hair that had fallen down the front of my body and shifted it behind my back. I stood perfectly still in nothing but a black lace thong and the stilettoes.

“Come here,” Wes’s voice was deep and strained. The easygoing tone he’d had earlier when we met and throughout the evening was long gone. In its place was control, desire, and lust. My three favorite things.

With effort, I walked cat-like to the side of the bed stopping two feet in front of him. I could feel the heat of the fireplace lick across my skin, warming it. As Wes’s gaze traced every inch of me, my nipples tightened painfully while the space between my legs softened. With every tiny flick of his eyes over a curve, a naked edge, my clit throbbed, ached, begged to be touched.

“Turn around,” was only the second thing he’d said to me since I’d walked in. I said nothing. Still in my heels, I pivoted on the balls of my feet, presenting him my backside. He growled low in his throat at seeing my bare ass.

The fire’s heat warmed my naked front and just when I thought I would die from anticipation, a feather-light caress started at the nape of my neck and moved slowly down my spine, touching each bump and ridge. I gasped when I felt the same heat from the front hit my back, only it wasn’t the fireplace. The smell of ocean and man permeated the air around me, and I closed my eyes. Soon that light touch got harder. Wes’s hand held my biceps and pressed me back into him. Skin-to-skin.

I could feel his breath on my neck as he pushed my hair to one side. His other arm wrapped around my body with one strong hand clasping over a bare breast just as his lips touched the sensitive column of my neck. I couldn’t help it. I whimpered the moment his thumb and forefinger plucked at the erect tip, sending ribbons of excitement scuttling through every nerve ending.

“Sweetheart, we need to set some ground rules.” His voice was a grumble against my skin. He swirled his tongue over the ball of one shoulder and bit down.

I moaned. “Ground rules?” I barely made out the words, while enjoying his talented fingers as they tugged and elongated each peak. My body was on hyperalert, his hands massaging and cupping each globe while those relentless fingers gave each nipple the most beautiful torture.

“Rule one: We’re going to have an insane amount of sex this month.” He pressed hard on each tip simultaneously. I cried out in bliss, the heat between my legs soaking the wisp of fabric I was wearing.

“And that’s a rule?” I said breathlessly leaning further back into him, grinding my ass into his thick erection. Sounded like a damn good rule to me.

Wes groaned and then retaliated by twisting each nip, perfectly adding just the right amount of pleasure and pain.

“Rule two is when we’re together like this, it’s only me and you. The entire month we’re monogamous.”

I bit down on my lip and focused on swiveling my hips pressing against what I could feel to be a pretty impressive package. “Agreed.”