Loving Lies(7)

“Oh my god, I can’t believe that happened,” she says, clearly surprised. She doesn’t squirm out of my hold so I gingerly lower her down until her feet are back on solid ground while mine feel like they’re floating. I keep my arms around her waist and before I can stop myself I’m leaning down to steal a kiss from her.

A light goes on inside illuminating our space and she instantly breaks free.

“I’ve got to go.”

I let her race away this time. If there’s one thing Alyssa will come to know over the course of the next few days is that I’m one determined man. This summer, I vow, will not be all about business. That old expression—all work and no play—will not apply to me.





CHAPTER THREE





Alyssa





What the hell was I thinking? Christ, if Donald had caught me I could have gotten fired. And I need this job. I’m not going back to working eight hour shifts in the bar and then six hour shifts in a store room. It’s all Blake’s fault. I can’t believe he’s the same guy I saw totally naked. That image of his magnificent body, which I tried so hard not to think about as I got about four inches from his package when wiping the spilled drink from his jeans was pure torture. My fingers itched to get a little closer. Nice to know that my actions gave him a boner. He couldn’t very well hide his erection in those tight jeans even though he moved out of reach to take care of the mess I’d made.

The memory of the feel of his body up close and personal with mine makes my nipples harden and moisture quickly pools between my legs. Christ, the last time I had a man paying any attention to my body was a good six months ago. Dry spells for me are not a good thing.

I’ve often wondered if my father knew how many men I’ve had in my bed and if it even mattered to him? Then again that day he found me in bed with a friend he didn’t care. Even after all his hurtful words he made it clear to me that being a virgin wouldn’t change his mind. He was going to marry me off. You don’t have to be a virgin anymore to broker a good marriage if you come from a wealthy family. You just need money and the right connections. That’s his way of thinking. Not mine. That’s why when I woke up six months ago from another one-night stand, not even able to recall the rocker’s name in my bed, I realized the only one I was hurting was myself. I’m not giving up on guys but I’m definitely looking for more than a one nighter. When I left home, I changed my name and appearance and left my father’s world behind me. I think I took men to my bed as a slap to his face but the reality is they meant nothing to me and I deserve better.

I give myself a mental shake as I try to avoid thinking of Blake’s lips. God the guy could kiss. I almost wish we hadn’t been interrupted. Maybe a one-nighter with him would be worth getting fired.

I throw my purse to the side of my small bed. When will I ever be able to resist the bad ones? Sure they come across as hot all Alpha male, but the deeper you dig the more dirt you discover. I am so not going down that road again. Then again if anyone looked closely at me they’d get the surprise of their life. Hard-working, partying city gal three years ago who had servants to answer her every wish. I can’t help but cringe when I think about how awful I was to the hired help. I never once picked up the clothes on my floor and was generally a slob. That is so different to how I juggle my life now. I pull out the plastic bag that holds my tips and dump the contents onto my bed. Tonight I’m the one counting change because when I left my socialite-life behind, I learned a hard lesson. When you’re wealthy you really don’t think that much about your money. When you’re working twelve hour shifts to pay rent and buy food you count every quarter.

A knock on my door startles me. I yank down the blanket to hide my change. Another lesson heard earned.

“Coming.”

I open the door to Kat, the scholarship student who is working in marketing at the resort, all but bouncing in her pink, fuzzy slippers. Kathryn, who some of us have nicknamed Kat, is usually all business and seeing her so excited makes me instantly wary. She’s very straight-laced but she’s also genuinely nice.

“I did it.”

“What?”

“I found you a room for your photography stuff.”

She walks into my room and gives me a once over.

I sit on the bed, near my change. “Slow down. What are you talking about?”

“The other night at the bonfire when you were telling me how much you missed not being able to develop your photos, I got to thinking why can’t you do that here. I spoke with Noah and he said there’s a room in the back of that winter maintenance storage building close to the end of the resort that you can use.” She sits on my bed, ignoring the jingle of loose change.