Read The Supermodel's Best Friend (A Romantic Comedy) Online

Authors: Gretchen Galway

Tags: #romance, #romantic comedy, #sexy, #fun, #contemporary romance, #beach read, #california romance

The Supermodel's Best Friend (A Romantic Comedy) (25 page)

“It’s just—” She stopped herself, not liking
the way his face had closed up. His eyes were watching her, but not
like before when he seemed to want to consume her.

Of course he wasn’t falling over himself with
lust now that they were in full lighting. Hadn’t she just looked in
the mirror? She looked like a slutty mermaid the ocean vomited onto
the beach.

There was a pitcher of water with glasses on
a small round table by the window. She walked over to it and
poured. “The room’s already paid for. It seemed like a waste. But
it’s nothing special, and of course the resort costs a million
times more.”

She was babbling. She needed a shower and a
long night’s sleep and tomorrow she wouldn’t feel so insecure and
vulnerable.

“I don’t mind staying,” he said.

Mind?

“No, forget it,” she said. “Wash up, and I’ll
meet you downstairs.”

He stared at her from across the room, one
hand on the bathroom door. “Do me a favor and stay here. I’ll just
be a minute.”

“I mean it, Miles. Forget what I said. I’m a
mess, obviously. I just want to get back to the resort so I can
figure this all out tomorrow.”

He smiled a little. “I know what you mean,”
he said. “Please stay in the room? Some of those guys down there
were a little rough.”

She waved him off and poured herself a second
glass of water. “Fine. Go on.”

He disappeared behind the door and she let
out a long breath. What was her problem? It wasn’t like they hadn’t
already had sex. Hot, hard, crazy, pounding sex.
Just down
there
, she thought, looking out the window.

She thought he’d go wild again at the
suggestion they stay. Not shrug like he was doing her a favor.

He’s not Dan.

And he wasn’t Alex, either. Alex, who
wouldn’t ever speak to her again, at least not with baby strollers
in his eyes. Alex, who’d followed her out here, who she’d shoved
into the backseat of a Porsche so she could be with another
guy.

Hoping Fawn left her credit card on file for
incidentals, Lucy popped open the mini-bar cabinet and found a bag
of M&M’s. With peanuts. Which made them nutritious, she
decided, tearing the wrapper apart.

She washed those down with a Diet Coke,
keeping her back to the door. It was late, but the bar was still
noisy. People’s voices and music vibrated through the building.
This B&B hardly compared to the Soul of Muir Resort. Even the
water glasses were mismatched, one of them chipped. If she hadn’t
been blinded by alcohol and lust, she would have noticed right away
the room was hardly the quaint haven the proprietor had assured
Fawn hours ago.

Miles came out, only glanced at her as he
zipped up his jacket.

It was that aloof gesture that made Lucy set
down her drink and stride over to the door. “I’ve been on a
motorcycle a few times before,” she said, pulling it open, “but not
recently.”

He cleared his throat and followed her into
the hallway. The door slammed behind them. “It’s a good bike for a
second rider. You’ll be fine.”

They walked down the hall, past the puppies
and dogs smiling at them from their framed posts on the walls. Just
as they slowed at the top of the dim, narrow staircase, Miles
touched her arm. “Careful, there’s a loose floorboard. Three steps
down.”

She hesitated. He hadn’t removed his hand.
“Thanks.”

“I’m surprised Fawn settled for this place,”
he said softly.

“We liked the bar and the view.”

His fingers softened on her arm. His hand
moved to cup her shoulder. “Lucy… ”

Her heart began to pound. “It’s okay,” she
said, imagining the heat of his palm through her thick jacket.

“It’s not how I imagined—”

She turned. “Look, if you want to regret it,
fine, but I’m not going to.”

He moved ahead of her down the stairs and
faced her. Soft gray eyes fixed on hers, he captured both her
shoulders in his hands. Slowly, he grinned. “I don’t regret it. Are
you kidding?”

“Then stop moping around. Just because I want
to go back to the resort doesn’t mean—”

“Yes?”

She poked him in the chest. “Doesn’t mean
anything about you. I rushed out with Fawn so fast I didn’t even
bring a toothbrush.”

He nodded and turned, gesturing down the
stairs. “I apologize. I will stop moping around and commence
playful post-sex banter.”

“Thank you.” The wood creaked under her feet
as she made her way back down to the main floor. Luckily, the front
desk was empty, and the two of them slipped out into the night
without another word.

Miles got a helmet out of the rear case of
his motorcycle and sized her up. “You sober enough to hold on?”

“I held on to you, didn’t I?”

He didn’t smile. “Yeah.”

“Hey, playful post-sex banter, remember?”

He took a deep breath. “Yeah, I remember.” He
looked down at her, patted her wild hair. “Let’s see if this helmet
will fit you.”

The foam interior of the helmet slipped over
her skull. “It’s tight,” she said, trying to poke her hair into it,
out of her face.

He nodded. Tapped his own.

She swung a leg over the bike and climbed
aboard, wiggling her bottom to get comfortable. “You should know I
can’t hear anything, okay?” Just because they were there and he was
staring at her, she grabbed the handlebars and bounced up and down,
pretending to rev the engine.

He didn’t move to get on in front of her.
Finally, he said something she couldn’t hear.

“What?” she yelled.

Closing his eyes for a moment, he stepped up
to her, unbuckled the strap under her chin, and took off her
helmet. “I almost made it. Later, I hope you give me credit for
that at least.”

“Made what?”

He cupped her face, his gaze dropping to her
mouth. “You didn’t really think I’d drive you back tonight, did
you?” He traced her bottom lip with his finger and his voice fell.
“When I’ve finally got you all to myself?”

 

 

Chapter 17

 

 

When he first met her, Miles thought Lucy was
cute. Down on the beach, he thought she was smoking hot. But now,
watching the moonlight reflect in her wide, soulful eyes, the only
word for her was… beautiful.

Beautiful
.

His heart was beating too fast again. He
wanted her, was afraid he wouldn’t get her. Not for another
quickie, but a slow, comfortable night together, far from rich,
needy friends.

Luckily, she didn’t have a car.

“You didn’t seem so eager a few minutes ago,”
she said, her bottom lip plumping out a little bit.

He rubbed it with his thumb, bent down
closer. “I was trying to be a gentleman.”

“A gentleman doesn’t make a woman feel like
she’s asking for it.”

He put an arm around her waist and lifted her
off the bike. “You can ask for anything you want, sweetheart.”

She wriggled down to the ground but didn’t
push him away. Taking that as a sign, he caressed the small of her
back, slid around her hip, squeezed the swell of her ass.

Earlier he’d worried about being able to
perform again so soon. Now he hoped he’d be able to go slow enough
to make a better impression this time. He kissed her quickly on the
cheek and took her hand. “Back to the room.”

“You should have made up your mind earlier. I
turned in the—” But she hadn’t. Slowly, she reached into her pocket
for the large room key and stared at it. “I forgot to turn it
in.”

“I noticed.” He grinned at her and tugged her
across the parking lot. “That’s what sealed your fate.”

“I can’t believe I forgot. I never forget
things like that.”

Her hand was small compared to his but not
the least bit frail. He didn’t have to worry about hurting her. As
they passed the front desk, his mind was thinking ahead to what he
would do first to her body, what parts he’d kiss, taste, take. When
she went ahead of him up the stairs, his conscious thoughts fled,
replaced by the vision that was Lucy’s ass swaying closely at eye
level.

He grabbed her hips to feel her as she
climbed. A forty-something woman in a hooded sweatshirt appeared at
the top of the stairs, coming down with a telescope over one
shoulder. Miles quickly dropped his hands.

“Partial lunar eclipse tonight,” she said,
nodding as she passed. “Hope the fog doesn’t come in.”

“Yes,” Lucy said vaguely.

“Good luck,” Miles said, grabbing Lucy’s ass
again.

They stumbled onto the landing and made their
way down the hallway to their room, weaving from side to side as
they progressed from light groping to heavy petting with each step.
By the time the key was in the lock, Miles had unbuttoned Lucy’s
jeans and slipped his hand underneath her underwear.

“The—key—doesn’t work,” she said, leaning her
back against his chest to let him touch her.

Warm, soft curls under his hand, then wet,
slick heat. His breathing was fast and shallow. “Maybe you’re
distracted.”

“Huh,” she said. “I’m usually very
focused.”

Reluctantly, he removed his hand and unlocked
the door. “Maybe you’re focused on something else right now.”
Gently, he pushed her ahead of him into the room and shut them
inside.

Alone, quiet, together. The metal bed looked
big enough, but old. He hoped there wasn’t anyone directly below
them because it looked like a squeaker.

He turned Lucy around in his arms and
captured her face in his hands and nuzzled. “Are you a squeaker?”
he whispered.

“I can squeak.” Her hands were at his throat,
tugging down the zipper to his jacket, and then she was on tiptoe
trying to push the armored leather from his shoulders.

He bent down and let her tear it off of him.
“I like the way you do that.”

Next she went after his shirt. And his jeans.
His knees began to shake. “Easy,” he said, holding her hands just
as she reached for his underwear. “We’ve got all night.”

She jerked her hands free and ran them up his
chest under his T-shirt. A jolt of exquisite pain shot through him
as she found a nipple and pinched. He yelped, and she pushed the
fabric up and kissed him softly. “Sorry.”

He ran his hands through her hair and held
her against his heart. “No problem.”

“Boots?”

“Yes, please.”

She bent down and unlaced them, then her own,
and in ten seconds he was in his boxer briefs, barefoot and erect,
watching her peel off her own shirt while he felt his heart
stop.

“On the bed,” she said, pointing. She wore a
black, silky-looking bra that shoved her breasts up and out, and
black bikini panties with a yellow smiley face right over the
jackpot. Her hair was wild and bright around her flushed cheeks and
pointy chin. She looked like an aroused, sexually dominant
fairy.

He was all hers. Tearing off his underwear,
he hopped over to the bed and flung himself down on his back.

Doubt flickered across her face as she stared
at his cock. “You’re kind of huge all over, aren’t you?”

He reached down and stroked himself, firm but
slow. “We already had a trial run,” he said through his teeth.
“Remember? No need to worry.”

Licking her lips, she raked her gaze over him
from head to toe, one hand lightly circling her left nipple through
the fabric. “I remember.” She dipped a finger in her red, swollen
mouth, sucked it, then rubbed the saliva over the fabric until her
nipple was hard and visible.

She repeated this on the other side while
Miles watched and clutched fistfuls of fabric. “You are so
hot.”

That seemed to please her. She smiled and
looked down at herself, then up at him. “What do you want to see
first?”

“Whatever you got, baby.”

She turned around, tilted a hip, looked at
him over her shoulder. “You like?”

“Very much.” Jaw clenched, he gathered more
fabric in his fists.

With a teasing smile that made his heart
lurch, she pushed down the elastic over her ass, exposing a round
expanse of perfect, womanly flesh. Then she caressed herself,
pulling the rest of the fabric down her hips. “Still happy?”

“Come over here and I’ll show you how
much.”

She bent over and slipped the panties
off.

He lunged, grabbed her around the waist, and
threw her down on  the bed next to him. Smiling, her green
eyes hot with desire, she wrapped a hand behind his neck and tugged
him down for a kiss.

The playfulness faded and serious lust took
over. While his tongue swept into her mouth, he unhooked her bra
and reached under the cups to free her breasts. He broke away from
her mouth to kiss his way down her neck, nipping and breathing hot
against her skin to her breasts. Stroking his hand between her
thighs, he sucked one nipple into his mouth, hard then soft, and
licked his way to the other.

“Lift your knees,” he said, his mouth only an
inch from her skin. He pushed her thighs apart and settled himself
between them. “Put your feet on my shoulders.”

Soft toes curled around his neck and settled
on his collarbone. “You don’t have to—”

“Do too,” he said, going down.

She was as responsive and passionate as any
woman he’d ever been with, generous and lusty, open and free. He’d
begun with a goal of getting her off so he could move on to his own
release without feeling guilty, but soon he lost track of any plan
and became obsessed with teasing her. He brought her close to the
edge and pulled back, stroking, penetrating her with his tongue,
his fingers, until he finally gave her what she wanted. She
screamed out and he crawled back up her body, triumphant but close
to the edge himself.

Hands shaking, he got a condom on and settled
himself on top of her. Sweaty and dazed, she looked up at him with
raw tenderness in her eyes. Then her fingers wrapped around his
cock and guided him down He thrust into her, unable to wait any
longer, and she felt so good and so right. He shouted out her
name.

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