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Chapter 1
With the four-hundred-thread-count eggshell-colored Egyptian cotton sheets tangled around her feet, Amelia Marlow kicked the material off the edge of the bed and wrapped her legs around the muscular calves of her partner. Their chests rose and fell in unison in the afterglow of their phenomenal evening of marathon lovemaking.
“So,” they both breathed at the same time.
A sly grin spread across her face at the way the two of them had hit it off, from the time they met at the bar to the last wave of their orgasms. If she didn’t know any better, she would have expected their first meeting to have been scripted. Six-foot-two with golden-bronze skin poured over steel muscles that no T-shirt could hide. His eyes were emerald green and had been focused on her the moment he filled the bar doorway. Hot didn’t even begin to describe this man. Like every woman there, he’d caught her attention the minute he walked in. Who knew a couple of hours ago, when he’d walked directly over to her and offered to buy her a drink, that they’d end up with a nightcap in her hotel room? The first few moments, their conversation had been a string of flirty awkwardness and now here they were, speaking at the same time.
“You first,” he said.
“Didn’t I already?” Amelia replied with a purr.
He turned his head and pressed his lips against her bare shoulder. “I thought we might want to exchange names.”
The point of a one-night stand meant no need to exchange names. She raised her brows. “You first.”
“Nate,” he said, squaring his jaw. “Nate Reyes.”
The roll of his R across his tongue set a ripple of a reminder of his talents a few moments ago. “Amelia, Amelia Marlow.”
Nate Reyes rolled to his right side, rested his head against his propped-up elbow and began to trace a pattern down from her chin to the center between her breasts with his forefinger. Subconsciously Amelia rested her hands against her stomach in attempt to make her breasts perky. The point of her elbow brushed against the hard contours of his ripped abs.
“And may I further say,” she began, despite the heat rising up from her chest across her cheekbones, “this honestly isn’t the type of thing I go around doing.”
His response came in a casual shrug. “Whatever the reason, I’m glad you did. I enjoyed myself this evening.”
“Me, too.”
The last time Amelia took a break from her job was probably never. Ever since the world had become enamored with reality shows, being on top of her game had become a necessity. As a field producer for MET, she’d found that personal relationships dwindled. Right now she was on the fast track for a seat on the throne as one of Multi-Ethnic Television’s future showrunners. Amelia busted her ass as a runner, becoming a field producer, following around the station’s biggest reality celebrities as they tweeted across the globe. Some days her current job seemed more like a glorified babysitter. Reality TV celebrity Natalia Ruiz was becoming bored with being followed 24/7 for her hit show, Azúcar. When a star was bored, so were the viewers. Amelia shook her head to get her job out of her mind. Why think about work when a smoking-hot man lay naked beside her?
“I want to see you aga
in.”
“I am only in Atlanta for the weekend. I’m checking out tomorrow.” Amelia shook her head left to right. Strands of hair brushed against her dewy skin. The cute flip hairstyle she’d gotten done today now flopped. He was worth it.
“So am I.” Nate rolled onto his back. “We need to do this again, soon.”
Amelia shifted to her side and faced him. She wished she hadn’t kicked the sheets to the floor. Instead of hiding her not-so-toned frame with covers, she curled her knees up to her chest as much as her non-yoga-perfected body would allow. Why hadn’t she taken some lessons during the Azúcar episode with Natalia?
“My schedule is demanding,” Amelia began. She had no time for relationships with her jet-setting schedule. The red light of the digital clock on the nightstand on the other side of the bed read sometime after midnight. She was surprised she hadn’t heard from her executive producer or the cameramen. Did she seriously get a few hours to herself? Well, she countered herself, not all by herself.
Nate lifted his almond-shaped eyes to hers. The faint smell of coconut rum lingered on his full lips. He had a low Caesar-style haircut and the most delectable caramel skin. A half sleeve of petroglyphs or a tribal tattoo decorated the length of his muscular bicep. Thanks to interning as a part of the camera crew for MET’s show featuring tattoo artists, she understood the sun design to be part of a Taíno Indian culture. Amelia’s heart fluttered with excitement for remembering the detail.
“So this is seriously going to be a one-night stand?”
“I believe we need to think of tonight as one special moment.” Amelia sighed. “I need to get back to work.”
“It’s after midnight.” Nate propped himself up on his elbow and raised his brows.
“Sorry,” she mumbled, contorting the upper half of her body over the side of the bed. Her hands searched around on the floor for the slacks she’d kicked out of and came across her navy, polka-dot bra and panties. As she tucked the undergarments in, her fingertips brushed across the soft beige carpet, reading it like braille for the pants until she found the hem strewn halfway across her hotel floor. The material of her pants was rolled over a shoe or a heel. She was glad the lamp lights were off. She’d have hated to see clearly what the room looked like. As it was, the full moon’s light spilled from the balcony’s open drapes and offered a view of the wreckage they’d created from tearing off each other’s clothes. She was sure they’d knocked everything off the dresser in their state of passion.
“What kind of work forces you out after midnight?” asked Nate before choking on a stifled laugh. “Wait, do I want to know?”
From her awkward angle, Amelia playfully tapped her foot against his broad chest. He captured her by the heel and kissed her big toe. Amelia jumped forward, found her cell phone and sat upright in the bed. She swore as the blue light indicating a message flashed furiously. The mattress behind her dipped and the heat from Nate’s body warmed her backside when he pulled her into his arms. As she tried to read her messages on her phone, his arms caressed the swell of her breasts. Amelia sunk into the warmth of him. Perhaps she had a few more minutes to respond to the swelling erection pressed against her backside. A rueful smile crept across her face, knowing she probably needed to stock up on sex. Lord only knew when she’d meet a man like this again.
The trail of kisses he left on her collarbone sizzled against her skin. Desire throbbed through every inch of her body. The shrill of her phone filled the silent room, shocking her system much like a bucket of ice dumped on her.
“Do you need to answer your phone?” he asked, kissing the tip of her earlobe and moving toward the side of her mouth. His large hands moved down her rib cage to the V of her thighs.
“No,” she gasped. The phone stopped ringing. A half second later someone banged on her hotel door. Amelia turned the lights on by the switch beside her bed. “But I must answer that.”
“Should I hide?” he asked, making no move to do so or effort to cover his naked and ready body.
The pounding on the door rattled the frame, the extra lock jingling against the bolt. Amelia jumped into her slacks, sans undergarments, turning her back to him as she zipped and buttoned herself. She cast a glance over her shoulder and raised a brow. “Are you in the habit of finding women who make you hide afterward?”
“Touché.”
Her phone began to ring again and this time when she glanced Natalia’s face appeared on the caller ID. From the other side of the door, her current boss banged and began to yell her name. Amelia’s eyes cringed with embarrassment as William Vickers cursed.
“Oh, hell no.” Nate moved from the bed. Naked, he stormed toward the door with his hand stretched outward for the doorknob. “Boyfriend or not, no man should speak to you this way.”
“Wait!” Partly panicked and partly impressed with Nate’s chivalry, Amelia rolled her eyes and sighed. She missed the gallantry of men these days. In the production world, manners were seriously lacking. “He’s kind of my boss, not my boyfriend, and if you don’t mind, I need you to step into the bathroom.”
“Why?”
Amelia’s eyes drifted to his naked, hard frame. It’d be a shame to have to cover or hide a beautiful body such as his. “Whatever’s going on with my job, I don’t want him thinking it was because of a romp in the hay.”
For half a minute, while William continued to knock, Nate stood in front of her, staring her down. Reluctantly he turned to head toward the bathroom. The view from behind was just as beautiful. “And it’s a bed, not hay,” he mumbled before closing the door.
Once the other door clicked closed, Amelia crossed the room and opened the door just a crack. “Are you crazy?”
William, mobile showrunner of MET, stood stock-still, hand raised in the air. Still dressed in a pin-striped business suit from the editing dinner, he narrowed his dark eyes at Amelia. He craned his neck to try and peer in through the crack she kept open. “What the hell are you up to?” His bulbous nostrils flared with his question.
“Sleeping?”
“You’re a field producer of a reality show where it is your job to follow your star around.”
“And she’s asleep,” Amelia gritted out between her teeth.
