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I bust out laughing and cover the phone with my hand before I realize no one is going to see it. Mom would never come into my room unannounced. It’s too long a walk to the west wing of the house.
“And you want to babysit my bun? I’m going to have to think long and hard about that.”
Malcolm texts immediately, “You keep thinking long and hard. I want all the details when you get back.”
I send him an emoji of a face with a tongue sticking out.
He texts right back. “Men like tongues.”
I raise my hand to my hot face. I know if I look into the mirror right now, my cheeks will be Hot Tamale red.
“Go back to work. Someone has to.” Over the last few days I’ve fallen in love with Malcolm. Not in a romantic way, but in a comfortable he-can-be-my-best-buddy way. He lives an affluent life, so he understands how lonely it can be. Money brings out the ugly in people. They are ugly if you have more and ugly if you have less. Even the rich have a pecking order.
I flop on my bed and scroll through the pictures of Ripley. There is Ripley at the beach, and oh my God, his abs are delectable. There is Ripley at a conference, and his suit is impeccable. Ripley skiing. Ripley surfing. Ripley cooking. That is the sexiest of them all because he is in his element, and power and confidence radiates from every pore.
I squeeze my thighs together trying to quench the achy feeling that throbs between them. If I’m this worked up looking at his pictures, what am I going to do with him face to face?
Three
RIPLEY
I pace the baggage claim area holding up a sign that says Madison Leclerc. I say a silent prayer that the woman has some cooking skills, preferably pastry skills. With a name like Leclerc, it’s possible she’s French-trained.
People come down the escalator in waves, and with each group that ropes down the moving staircase, I raise the sign high above my head. At six-foot-three, it’s not hard to be seen. I scan the crowd, not sure who I’m looking for. All I know is she’s on the five o’clock flight from Los Angeles.
By the time the third group comes and goes, I am ready to give up. I don’t have time for this shit, but my sister is the philanthropist in the family and conned me into giving one of my coveted classes away for a fundraiser. ‘Full package’ is what she said, which meant flight, room, board, class and airport pick up.
Another group rounds the corner and I raise my arms again. I search the faces for some recognition. A brunette turns the corner and stumbles onto the escalator. She grabs the handrail to right herself. I can’t take my eyes off her, not because she’s clumsy, but because she’s perfect. Her hair hangs over her shoulders and falls on top of the nicest set of tits I’ve seen in years. I know this because she’s wearing a low-cut blouse, and after her near-fall, her breasts spill out like an offering from the gods.
A small child behind her pushes forward and sends her off balance again. She rocks to and fro then lurches forward. All I can see is her falling in slow motion. I drop the sign and run forward determined to save her from imminent doom.
I push back several people as I run up the down escalator. I’m two steps below her and nearly to the bottom of the escalator when she falls forward into me. My hands wrap around her ass as she plants her face in the center of my chest, and with an oomph, I land on the floor beneath the most stunning woman on earth. Her hair curtains my face while her body blankets mine. Nothing has felt this amazing. The woman smells like cinnamon and sugar. What could be more perfect?
“Oh. My. God. I’m so sorry.” She squirms on top of me, but I hold tight to that delicious ass. If we weren’t in the middle of a major thoroughfare and people didn’t have to step over us, I would have laid there for days with her in my hands.
Reluctantly, I sit up, rolling her with me. When I help her upright, she takes one look at me and her knees buckle again. “Are you okay?”
“Oh, holy hotdogs.” She rises unsteadily. “You’re him.”
It wasn’t a question, but more of a statement.
“I’m who?”
“You’re… you’re…” Her balance wavers again, and I put my hands on her shoulders to steady her.
“I’m Ripley, and you’re clumsy.”
Her beautiful mouth opens, and it is all I can do to not bend over and kiss her. I stare at her tongue, which is a beautiful slick pink and imagine it wrapped around my thick cock.
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Kiss Me-Sneak Peek
Scarlett
“Yes, this will be perfect. It's exactly what he said he wanted. Remote. Pr
ivate. Quiet.” I watch Grace Smythe as she sweeps through the cabin, going from room to room with a keen eye for detail. She's a production assistant for Newman Brothers Films, and she's here looking for accommodations in our little town of Aston Valley, Montana, for a major motion picture they'll start shooting here next month.
