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“And you remembered,” I reply, with a teasing note in my voice.
She rolls her eyes, somehow making herself even more beautiful. Her hand is in her hair, just like it was this morning, the womanly gesture causing my balls to swell.
Seed surges nonstop up and down my length, my helm bulging.
It’s the scent of her too. This close, I can smell her body, her shampoo, and something beneath it.
A primal declaration that we belong together.
It’s like her DNA is calling out to me, telling me we have to mate.
Mate, like we’re animals.
She’s turning me into one.
“Of course, I remembered you,” she says. “I’ve only seen your movies a hundred times.”
At the red light, I let out a sigh.
“What?” she asks. “You don’t like people watching your movies?”
“I don’t want to think of you as a fan,” I reply, knowing it could be a mistake.
But how long can I hold back my feelings for this woman? Where will it end?
I wish I could peer inside her mind, past her beautiful hair, and read if her desire is genuine. Or if it’s more about my money, my celebrity.
She doesn’t seem that way.
And hell, what if I’m misreading her desire? What if there isn’t any?
She could ask me why I don’t want to think of her as a fan, but she doesn’t, so we drive in silence.
“How did you get my number?” I ask, needing to fill the quiet.
Sitting within touching distance of my woman – with the imprint of her palm making my forearm hot – and not even talking is not right.
She glances at me, biting down.
“Don’t worry,” I smirk. “I’m not going to tell on you.”
“I saw it on Aurora’s phone,” she replies. “I memorized it. I know I shouldn’t have.”
“I’m glad you did,” I tell her fiercely.
She flinches, and I wonder if I’ve let out too much of my fire.
“I don’t normally enjoy texting,” I go on, attempting to make my voice calmer. “But with you, I do. I guess I’ll have to stop calling you Miss Mystery now, though.”
She laughs softly, the most beautiful sound in the world. “I don’t know. I kind of like it.”
“And you’re still a mystery to me.”
“So I guess it fits, huh?” she says, with some new sassiness in her voice.
I glance at her, enjoying the way her lips twitch at the same time as the glimmering in her eyes, like she’s letting me into a secret world, a world made up of her, my woman.
My woman.
I almost say it, but then the light changes, and I keep driving.
“Are you surprised it’s me?” she asks. “The texter, I mean….”
I’m glad to have the road to focus on, meaning I don’t have to look at her when I lie… or when I omit the truth.
“It’s a coincidence,” I say gruffly.
But there is no coincidence here.
If I were a superstitious man, I’d call it fate.
Hell, I did think it was fate in the office when the sun was shining on her, fate lighting her up for me.
I’ve never believed in it before, never believed forces other than the cold nature of the world were at work.
“Thanks for the ride,” she says after a pause, her tone wavering.
It’s as though I’ve offended her, the last thing I ever want to do, but I’m not sure what to say without letting everything out, the full force of my surging desire.
CHAPTER 10
Alice
When he says things like, You’re still a mystery to me, it makes me think there’s some romantic flickering here.
It makes me think that all my thoughts before, about how he’d sneer and overreact when he realized I’m not some Valley girl with perfect teeth and tits and everything else, were silly and over the top.
But then he gets gruff, answering my question bluntly, and I wonder if I was right all along.
He’s an actor – one of the best, if not the best.
It wouldn’t be difficult for him to hide his true feelings.
Perhaps he feels guilty for stringing me along, for making it seem like we’re going to be something, build toward something….
But no, what am I saying?
It’s just a ride.
A kindness.
Nothing more.
Still, I’m in his car, the man I’ve stared at online countless times, the man who causes my entire body to shimmer whenever I think of him.
I’m close enough to smell his cologne and just him underneath it, musky and tempting.
His forearm was so firm, throbbing with muscle when I held on like he was angry, and his body wanted to tell me.
He drives confidently, leaving the nice neighborhoods behind us.
A T-shirt clings to his muscular torso, a plain gray one, letting me study the muscles bulging through the fabric, his abs, chest, and arms looking like they could break the seams.
His hair glistens with the not-yet-setting sun, and he wears jeans similar to the last time I saw him.
