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Authors: Sommer Marsden

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Chapter Sixteen

 

Saved by the bell. Literally. Saved from even one more moment
of a shitty night’s sleep, Aubrey thought as she groped desperately for her
cell phone. Her room was still nearly dark and the stupid phone had somehow
migrated while she slept.

She managed to squint at the bright screen and stab the
place she needed to touch to accept the call.

“What? Yes? Hello?” she stammered in rapid fire. Apparently,
crappy sleep and feeling like someone was trying to pull your heart out of your
body made for a grumpy morning.

“Aubrey?”

“Yes?”

“Good morning?”

Aubrey rubbed her face. “Is that a question?”

A laugh from the other end. “Two words for you,” the voice
said. “Key West!”

Finally, she caught the key nuance to know who her mystery
caller was. “Gail?” she asked.

“Shit! I’m sorry,” Gail said. “I’m so excited I guess I
forgot to identify myself.”

The editor for Checkered Horse Publishing sounded way too
awake for Aubrey’s liking. She suppressed the urge to groan. “No problem. Just
not quite awake is all. Not that I slept well.” She sat up.

“Oh God. One of those nights,” Gail commiserated. “I can
call you back in a few minutes if you—”

“No, no. What’s this about Key West? You can’t just drop
words like that on a sleep-stunned girl and then run.”

More laughter. “Fair enough. You sure you want to know right
now?”

“Yep. Sure.” Bruce, hearing her voice, had come in and
jumped up on the bed with her. He snuggled close, licking her chin, trying to
convey the message that there was food to be had and she was the ticket to the
food. She patted his head.

“Key West. We’ve decided to do a Checkered Horse calendar.
Calendars—pinup calendars—do really well for the most part. We get so much mail
from our female readers about our erotic covers and the models featured we
wanted to put together a calendar. And of course, we wanted you to shoot it. We
just found a location and some models and of course we want to use your
man—that new guy you brought me—as Mr. December. He’d be fun to unwrap under
the tree, don’t you thi—”

Aubrey groaned. More from remembering the night before than
from what Gail was saying. But poor Gail ground to a halt. “Are you…did I say
something?”

“Nope. Sorry. I pulled something working out and was just
sitting up.”
Lies, lies, lies! But what can I do?
“When do you want me
to go?”

“Today.”

“Today!”

“We got you a noon flight.”

Aubrey looked at her phone. That was six hours away.
“But…um…where will I stay?”

“Don’t worry. We’ve taken care of it all. The flight—sorry,
it’s business class. We’re doing better, but are by no means rolling in dough,”
Gail laughed.

“No problem,” Aubrey said. She was used to flying sardine
class. Being packed in with other passengers wasn’t something she’d even bat a
lash at.

“And then we have a room that’s on standard reservation for
this time of year that we managed to snag because it’s reserved by one of the
editors’ uncles. And he’s in Singapore this year! So he said you can stay in
his room while you do that shoot.”

“Wow.”

“Well, it’s very small—by no means a suite. Or so I’m told.
But small in Key West is as good as large anywhere else, right?”

“Right,” Aubrey said, feeling a pit in her stomach at the
talk of leaving. Leaving things all shook up and a mess with Mike.

Mike who you just met! Mike who should not be this
important already!

But he was.

“I wonder if that’s true with penises too,” Gail said.

She caught Aubrey so off guard, she gasped and then whooped
with laughter. “Oh my God! Gail, you are too funny. Am I the only one going?”

“Unless you want to bring someone,” Gail said. “And sadly
that would be at your expense.”

“No, no, I was just curious is all. E-mail me all my info.”

“And your boarding pass—”

“And my boarding pass. E-mail me all the info and I’ll do my
best to shoot you a spectacular amount of hunky men for your calendar.”

“We have a list. They’ll be showing up three a day. And of
course, in your downtime, if you find any…” She laughed.

“If I find any hunks, I’ll be sure to tackle them and make them
pose for me.”

“Good girl!” Gail said. She sounded very excited and it was
rubbing off on Aubrey.

“E-mail me,” Aubrey said again. She stood and Bruce went
insane, seeing food in his future.

“I will. And if you have any questions, call me.”

“Will do.”

They hung up and she looked at Bruce. “Looks like I’m going
to Key West and you’re going to visit Laura and Bradlee.”

His tail thumped. He was okay with that.

* * * * *

Once she’d fed Bruce and made arrangements for Bradlee and
Laura to come get him after school, she marched across the lawn that separated
her and Mike and knocked.

“What are you doing?” she muttered. “This is ridiculous.
This is just an excuse to see him.”

And it was. She knew it was and she didn’t give a shit. She
wanted him to know she’d be gone for various reasons. They ranged from in case
someone broke into her house or it burned down, to if he needed her she
wouldn’t be there. And yes, part of her hoped beyond reasonable sane-person
hope that he would miss her. Some. At least a little.

A bit.

It wasn’t even seven a.m. so she rang the bell. Best for him
to hear her. When she heard the chain slide back her heart jack-rabbited and
she had the irrational urge to flee. Instead, she straightened her spine and
stood there waiting.

Mike opened the door and regarded her with bloodshot eyes.

“Hi,” he said, leaning forward against the door jamb.

“You look like shit,” Aubrey blurted.

“Why thank you. Did you stop by just to tell me that?”

She snorted and quickly covered her face. “No. I actually
came by to tell you…” Her tongue didn’t want to put the words out.

He opened the door wide and stepped back. “Why don’t you
come in and tell me? It’s weird keeping you out there.”

She’d kept him out there the night before. But it had been
midnight and she’d been—

Hurt. Unsure.

Aubrey stepped inside and realized she’d never been inside
before. Her eyes went to the sofa. It was milk-chocolate brown, deep, cushiony
and rumpled all to hell. A throw lay tangled at one end as if he’d camped out
there all night. An infomercial ran on TV, so she was pretty sure her guess was
accurate.

“Tell me what?” He hooked a finger at her and went into the
downstairs half-bath. He took a swig of mouthwash, swished it and recapped it.
“Sorry, didn’t want to kill you with my dragon breath.”

“I wanted to tell you,” she said, so close to him in the
small room she couldn’t seem to draw a deep enough breath, “that I’m going away
for three or four days.”

“Is it three or four?” He grinned at her. Between the grin
and the unreadable blue eyes and the sleep corkscrews in his hair, she felt the
draw of attraction in the pit of her stomach. She tried to shake it off but it
refused to be shaken.

“Not sure. Can’t remember.”

“Can’t remember?” He touched the underside of her wrist with
his fingertip. Simply stroked gently above her pulse. That small gesture nearly
undid her.

“Yeah. I just got the call. I’m going to Key West.”

“Business or pleasure?”

The word pleasure made her knees feel all buckly and such.
“Business. Shooting a calendar. Which reminds me. They want to use one of my
shots of you. For December. But I was thinking when I get back I could…” She
was staring at his bare chest. He’d slept in his jeans, but that was all.
Aubrey realized she could see the tanned skin jump softly with each beat of his
heart. Judging by the pace of the jumps, his heart was beating a little fast.

Just like hers.

“Could what?”

She did two things simultaneously. She took a step back but
she reached out to touch that leaping skin. Her fingers came in contact and he
stepped toward her just as she retreated.

“Could set up one of my fake trees and take some shots. So
you really look all Decembery.” Her hand was now splayed against his warm skin.
She could feel his heartbeat now. Not just see it.

“That’s fine.” He looked down at her hand and she glanced at
his jeans. He was hard. She could see it. And the visual coaxed a shivery
little sigh out of her. “You’re touching me.”

“You’re wanting me,” she replied. Why had she said that?

He looked her in the eye and she saw the intention there.
Her knees went from sort of buckly to very weak. “Always,” Mike said. He led
her back into the living room.

He put his hand behind her neck and pulled her toward him.
His other hand held her wrist loosely. He was the only man to touch her wrist
so often. He was the only man to ever turn her on and get her hot from touching
nothing but her wrist. When his mouth met hers and his tongue slipped past her
lips, she got a shot of mouthwash flavor. They both laughed.

“Minty fresh,” she sighed. But the laughter fled when he
pulled her fully to him, his body fitted to hers. She could feel the press of
his hard cock to the front of her yoga pants. She’d thrown them on along with
an oversized sweatshirt to knock on his door.

Her hands moved restlessly across his chest, she liked the
feel of his soft, warm skin. The hard muscle underneath. The now-heavy pound of
his heart. The back of her legs hit the sofa and she sat, Mike moved over her
to kiss her more deeply. His hands roamed along her face, her neck as the other
slipped up beneath her sweatshirt. Everywhere he touched her bare skin grew
hot. Every place he stroked her grew more sensitive.

Her pulse was racing in her throat and in her pussy. She
wanted him, so she shut out every thought in her head that contradicted her
desire.

He straddled her and she let her head tilt back as his big
hands framed her face. He stroked her cheekbones with his thumbs as he deepened
the kiss. His erection rested hard and heavy against her belly. She found him
with her hand and stroked him, wishing his pants would magically evaporate.

The thought made her smile.

“What’s so funny?” He paused to look down at her. Then he
kissed her nose in an entirely gentle, affectionate gesture and her heart
crimped.

“I was just wishing your pants would disappear.”

Mike stood. “I had the same wish. But it’s your lucky day. I
can make your wish come true.” He pulled the top button of his jeans open and
then yanked so the entire row of brass buttons popped free of their holes.
Beneath the jeans he was bare. She heard her own sharp intake of air and then
her fingers came around him and he was smooth and hot in her hand.

“Jesus,” he muttered. She ran her thumb over the weeping
slit on the tip of his cock.

“Just call me Aubrey.”

Aubrey leaned forward slowly. She heard his own intake of
air, sharp and startled. And then she wrapped her lips around the tip of him
only. Dragging her tongue across the small dot of pre-come there. She sucked
him but didn’t move any lower on his shaft. Mike plunged his hands into her
hair but didn’t move, didn’t thrust. She could tell from the energy coming off
him that it was a struggle not to. She could literally feel his self-control.

When she thought he might shatter apart from the tension,
she slipped her lips slowly down his length, taking him into her mouth. His
groan made excitement race through her, caused her nipples to spike hard and
sensitive inside the shapeless warmth of her sweatshirt.

God, how she fucking wanted this man.

She sucked him slowly, relishing the feeling of both power
and pleasure it gave her. Her own arousal beat wet and heavy in her pussy. Her
stomach tingled with excitement and need. She could smell him, the perfect,
wonderful scent that was uniquely Mike Sykes. It filled her head and made her
drunk. She ran her tongue—held rigid for the friction—up the back of his cock
and he grunted.

“Lie back.”

“But—”

“Do it,” he said.

She obeyed, happily. Another fresh rush of excitement
coursed through her. Another spike of power. His urgency was her power. His
want, her control. And yet, when he pinned her hands down by her side and he
kissed her roughly, he was in control.

She parted her legs and he nestled between them. His knees
on the floor, his waist between her spread legs. He took his time pushing her
baggy sweatshirt up to see her body. He dragged his tongue up from the
waistband of her leggings, over her bellybutton, up her torso and then between
her breasts. The air in her lungs seemed to evaporate as blood beat like a bass
drum in her ears.

“Mike…” she said. He swept his lips to the right, pausing to
grind his cock against her core. Then he trapped her tight nipple in between
his lips. After a heartbeat, he found her with his tongue, teased her, sucked
hard so that she felt a tug and draw from her breast to her belly. Aubrey
gasped.

He put his hand over her mouth and she stopped talking. Or
trying to talk, at least. When he dragged his mouth slowly from her right
breast to her left, she parted her lips, sucked his finger into her mouth and teased
him with her tongue.

This time Mike made the noise. It made her smile. Until he
sucked her left nipple and then promptly bit it. Goose flesh broke out along
her arms and her pussy grew so wet she felt the tops of her thighs grow slick.

She took his face in her hands and kissed him, sucking his
tongue, nipping his lower lip until his shaft felt unbearably hard against her
belly.

“Fuck me,” she said suddenly. “Fuck me now. Fuck me, Mike.”
He pulled his head back and looked at her. His want was so visible in his blue
eyes it made her feel lightheaded but she sealed the deal by saying softly,
“Fuck me…please.”

BOOK: PosterBoyForAverage
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