I knew myself.
Vantage Pointwas a once in a lifetime story.
I needed to go back to my own basics. If I had any hope of convincing Monte that this book would be better than the one I originally sold them, I needed to come up with a killer story. That meant I needed to marinate a bit.
“Oh, you got an idea?”
I shut the notebook. “Hey. You’re up.”
She yawned and leaned on the counter across from me. “Sorry about that. Guess I was too cozy and full.”
“No problem. Do you want me to get out of your hair?”
“I like you in my hair.” She chuckled. “You know what I mean.”
She slid the notebook away from me, but I put my palm down on top of it.
“Don’t worry, I’m not looking.” She took my hand and pulled me away from the island. “I’m just revived.”
“Is that right?”
She nodded and looped her arms around my neck.
Mouse gave us the side-eye and headed back into the living room.
“That was a little judgy.”
“He knows that you’re about to corrupt me.”
Her lips slid into a sly smile. “He might be correct.”
She jumped up and I grunted and caught her against me. She wrapped her legs around my waist leaving me little choice but to grip her ass.
“We need to take a trip into town before?—”
“I may have found two condoms in my stash while you were sleeping earlier.”
“Is that right?” A bolt of lust pushed the last of the percolating idea away.
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you say so?”
“I’m saying so now.”
I turned and stalked down the hall, her laughter echoing the whole way. She cupped the back of my head and fastened her mouth over mine.
She tasted of wine and spices.
Of that undeniable Phoebe flavor that was rapidly becoming my favorite thing in this whole shitshow that was my life.
I stood her on the mattress so she was taller than me, then raked my fingers down her slip of a dress so I could draw it over her head. She was all golden curves and totally secure in her skin. She cupped my face, hooded pleasure darkening her eyes before she lowered herself to her knees in front of me.
She unfastened the button and zipper of my jeans. “Off,” she said huskily.
“Phoebe.”
Every fucking dream I’d had of her for the last week tumbled through my head.
