“Sleep well?” Leaning casually against the kitchen counter, he eyes me over his mug.
“Like a baby. I was really out.”
“I know. I’ve been up for two hours.”
“What time is it?”
“Eight.”
“You sleep well?”
“Best night of sleep I’ve had in years.” He smiles. It’s a genuine smile, it makes him look so young.
“Working so early on a Saturday?” I sip my coffee.
“Had a few loose ends to tie up. Wanted to get them done before you woke. What time do you turn into a pumpkin?”
My smile fades. “I have to be on set at three.”
“Finish your coffee.” He drains his mug and walks closer. “You sore?”
“Not really.” A little achy, but I keep that part to myself.
“Let’s go fix that. I want you to feel me for six weeks.”
chapter sixteen
Cooper
The morning after a sleepover, I’m usually ready for a woman to leave. I’m not rude or brash about it, but I’ll admit weekday sleepovers are more my thing. No leisure time the next day to spend making post-coital nice. It’s not that I don’t like a woman’s company outside of the bedroom, I do, although I generally prefer that time to be before sex, rather than after.
“Lunch should be here any minute,” I say as Kate comes from the bathroom. Wet hair and a makeup-free face; she grows more beautiful each time I look at her. I glance at the clock again, dreading the minutes ticking by so fast. Why is it that the first woman I want to spend the entire weekend with doing nothing is also the one running on a meter set to expire way too soon?
“Great.” She looks at her watch and back to me. Her face shows as much dread over the ticking away of the moments as I feel.
“I’ll drop you back at your car after lunch.”
She bites her lip. “Would you mind dropping me home? I need to get my bag.”
“Bag?”
“We’re sequestered at the house for a few nights.”
I fail miserably at letting her words roll off of me. My face hardens, jaw clenches down and I open and close my fists.
“Sorry,” she offers apologetically. And it looks like she means it. Oddly, the anger doesn’t make me want to walk away from her. Instead, I get the feral urge to fuck her long and hard again. I’m not oblivious. I do realize it’s most likely the primal urge to mark my territory in the most glaring way I know how. But that doesn’t make the urge any less real.
The intercom buzzes, saving me from myself. I walk to the door and press the button. Lou’s voice booms through the loud speaker.
“You have a guest, Mr. Montgomery.”
“I ordered lunch, you can send him up. Thanks, Lou.”
“Ummm … it’s not lunch. Well, not unless Ms. Laroix has it hidden in her bag.”
Shit. The woman just refuses to take a hint. I glance back at Kate. She lifts her eyebrows, but says nothing.
“Can you please tell her she needs to call the office and get on my schedule?”
“Okay. But she doesn’t like when I send her away.”
That doesn’t seem to stop her though. “Just do it, Lou.” I release the intercom button with a huff.
“I can grab a cab if you have business to discuss,” Kate says with a bit of suspicion in her tone.
“I don’t have any business to discuss with her anymore.”
“Oh,” she says.
“I didn’t mean her visit was personal. I don’t know why she came, I meant.”
Kate tries to shrug it off. “It’s okay. It’s none of my business.”
“We just spent the night together and it’s none of your business why she’s here?” Fuck. I sound defensive.
“I’m sorry. I meant, well … I don’t know what I meant. I guess I meant to say I don’t have any right to question what you’re doing, when I’m heading back to Flynn.”
His name from her lips hurts me, but it comes off more like anger. “I’ll get dressed to drive you back to Flynn.” I slam the door to my bedroom a little too hard.
The silence screams loudly on the ride back to her apartment. I have plenty of things I’d like to say, but what’s the point. Last night was what it was. One night. Six weeks is a long time and who knows where either of us will be then. I should be fine with a night of just sex. Hell, I probably needed one.
“Listen.” We both start speaking at the same time as I pull into a parking spot at her building. “You go first,” I offer.
“I was just going to apologize.”
“Me too.”
“I don’t know what else to say. If things were different …”
“It’s okay.
She leans forward and kisses my cheek softly. “I had a great time last night.”
“Me too. Hope you don’t mind if I don’t wish you luck on your show.”
She smiles. I walk around the car and open the door, offering my hand to let her go, even though I want nothing but. I pull her close and hold her tight, neither of us saying a word.
“Can you be the one to let go of me? Please. I can’t seem to do it.” The strain in her voice is real. As much as I don’t want to let her walk away, the urge to make it easier on her wins out. I kiss the top of her head and release her.
Not quite ready to let her disappear, I watch her walk away until she’s out of sight. An irrational part of me wants to chase after her. Give her the money she needs, even though I have no idea why she needs it so badly.
Patience wearing thin, I call Damian Fry on the way home and bark at him—he has twenty-four hours to get the report I requested on my desk.
chapter seventeen
Kate
I shift on the couch, leaning my weight to the right side, and inwardly smile thinking of Cooper. This isn’t giving in. This is staking my claim. I’ll send you back to him tomorrow if that’s what you want. But you won’t be able to sit without thinking of me for a week. Every time you sit down, you’ll be reminded of what it feels like with me buried deep inside you. Goosebumps break out on my arms just thinking about the words he said.
It’s been two days. He wasn’t kidding when he said he’d make me think of him when I sat down for a week. My body aches, but it’s a good ache, unlike the ache in my chest that keeps me perpetually glum.
“What gives?” Ava asks, plopping herself down next to me. I’m not sure I would still be here if it wasn’t for her. With the selection of the final four looming in less than a week, things have turned from unfriendly to downright vicious. One of the girls actually slammed a shoulder into me this afternoon as I was coming out of the bathroom. She feigned it was an accident, but the glimpse of an evil smile on her face when I fell on my ass assured me it was absolutely intentional.
“Nothing. I’m just tired. Think I might be coming down with something.”
“Well, you look more like someone killed your dog.”
“Thanks. That’s attractive.”
“No problem. Anytime.” She grins.
“At least Flynn won’t have to look at you in the black box.”
“Who thinks of these challenges anyway?” Tonight’s challenge is a test of how in tune Flynn is with the contestants. In a little while, he’ll be alone, seated on a chair, in an empty pitch-black room. Each contestant takes a turn at going in to visit with him for five minutes. No talking or sound of any kind is permitted by the contestant. He must identify them without hearing them. Touching, of course, is permitted. Any contestant who makes even the slightest noise is disqualified. The woman Flynn is able to identify in the least amount of time gets tomorrow’s one-on-one date with him. I’m guessing Miles had a hand in conjuring up this challenge.
“How long do you think it takes for Jessica to make him feel her up?” Ava asks.
“Eighteen seconds.”
Her eyebrows shoot up. “Eighteen seconds? That’s pretty specific.”
“I’m good at these things.” I shrug. “Bet you?”
“I think you have a gambling problem.” Ava smiles.
“Chicken?”
“What are we betting?”
“You have to wear my Chargers t-shirt.”
“That’s cruel. You better not stretch out my Raiders t-shirt if you lose.”
I look down at her boobs and smirk. “Your t-shirt is the only one I could possibly stretch out in this house of breast friends.”
We all gather in the viewing room to watch as the first contestant makes her way into the black box. The camera has infrared viewing, which makes Flynn’s pale blue eyes look more like a jaguar’s hunting its prey in the dead of night. He holds a small square box with buttons that will electronically record which woman he thinks is in the room, as well as the time it takes him to formulate his guess.
Mercedes, the first contestant, closes the door behind her. Crap, I never thought of props. She’s wearing a naughty nurse costume. Her ass cheeks peek out from beneath the white one-piece zip-front uniform, a stethoscope around her neck and a pill-box nursing hat sitting atop a fully teased head of sexy hair.
Hearing the door click shut, Flynn’s head turns in the direction of the sound. “I’m over here,” he says. Mercedes struts in his direction, the clack of her five-inch heels echoing on the tile floor. She stops a few feet from him, unsure of where to go.