Billionaires, Bad Boys, and Alpha Males (161 page)

both
of his hands, and his touch was firm but
gentle.
 
He leaned in and examined
her skin, seeming to take in every pore.

“Look
at
that,” he whispered.
 
“I think it
needs a kiss.”

“What?” she asked, her breath practically
caught in her chest.

“I
need
to kiss your hand for good luck,” he smiled seductively.
 
“You never heard of that before?”

“No.”

She
did
want his lips on her skin.
 
She
didn’t care if it was weird and she didn’t know him well enough.

He
brought
her hand up to his lips and kissed it softly.
 
His lips were like silk, but hot,
searing her flesh with desire.
 
“Can
you feel me bringing you luck?” he said.

“I
don’t know,” she replied.

“Okay,
then.
 
Maybe another will do it.”
 
He leaned down and kissed a little
further up her wrist.
 
And then
again.
 
He was moving up her arm and
her whole body shuddered.

Kallie
was
aware now of just how close their bodies were, as his legs touched hers and his
chest moved closer to her own. She was in nothing but a skimpy wet bikini and her
nipples had hardened.
 
She could feel them poking rather
insistently through her top. Beneath her bikini bottom, the situation was even
more dire, if less obvious perhaps.
 
She was absolutely dripping with desire.

His
hands
suddenly grabbed her hips and pulled her into him.
 
“Maybe you need another kiss,” he said,
“to show you exactly what I mean.”

She
didn’t
want to admit just how badly she needed another one, but he must have known
anyway.

Suddenly,
his
lips were on hers, teasing at first, lightly brushing her lips as she leaned
forward.
 
Her hands were on his
muscular chest, feeling the hardness of his torso. He was so strong, his body
firm and tight and beyond sexy.
 
His
every movement, gesture, the tone of his voice—she wanted him.
 
She almost felt as though she needed
him.

The
way
he’d protected her from Brad at the pool—however violent his means-- he’d
done something that no one else had done.
 
He’d stopped that person from hurting her, from violating her
further.
 
And she was grateful for
that, but she was also completely turned on by how easily this man had taken
charge of the situation.

And
now
he was taking charge again, as he kissed her more deeply.
 
His tongue slowly entered her
mouth.
 
His breath tasted
minty—not a hint of alcohol could she detect.

His
hands
moved down from her hips and then slid up her bare back, holding her closely so
that her breasts pushed into his chest.
 
Now their pelvises came together as their kiss went even further.
 
She could feel, quite obviously through
the thin layers of clothing between them, that he was excited.
 
He was hard, and he was very big.
 
Big enough to even be a little scary,
she thought—if it ever came to that.

But
for now she just enjoyed his hardness
pressing against her wetness through her tiny bikini, and thought about how it
might feel if there was nothing at all between them.

Their
kissing
became more passionate, and then he pulled back, looking into her eyes.
 
His hand caressed her cheek softly.
 
“I feel like I’ve known you my entire
life,” he said.
 
“Which is totally
crazy, I know.”

“I
feel
like I know you, too,” she admitted.
 
And it was true—there was something shockingly familiar about
him.
 
Still, even now she couldn’t
place it.
 
“Have we met before?” she
said.

He
laughed.
 
“Isn’t that supposed to be my line?”

“I just—I thought I recognized you.”

His
laughter
faded a little and his dark eyes searched hers again.
 
“Don’t tell me you’re putting me on.”

Now
it
was her turn to be perplexed.
 
“Putting you on?”

“Do you know who I am?”

“I
don’t
know.
 
I mean, you’re familiar,
but…should I know you?”

He sighed and stepped back.
 
“Maybe.”

Just
then,
there was a loud, staccato knock on the door that made Kallie jump.

“Is somebody in there?”

Kallie
recognized
that voice.
 
It was Nicole’s
husband.
 
She put her finger over
the stranger’s lips and then answered.
 
“Yes, I’m in here!”

“Look,
we
should probably get going.
 
It’s way
late, I lost track of time.”

“Okay, coming right out!” she called, and then
went and flushed the toilet.
 
The stranger
turned the faucet on and pulled her close
so he could whisper in her ear. “I want to see you again,” he said.

She
nodded.
 
Then she turned and whispered in his
ear.
 
“I don’t even know your
 
name.”

“My
name is Hunter.”

And
then
it hit her.
 
It hit her like a ton
of bricks and a bolt of lightning all at once and she nearly keeled over from
the shock.
 
Of course, she must have
been a complete fool not to have put it together.
 
He was Hunter Reardon, the writer of the
book she’d been reading the last few days.
 
He wrote Blue Horizon.

He’d
looked
just different enough from the picture in the book jacket—his hair was
longer, a little more stubble on his face perhaps, a bit older—and she
hadn’t conceived of the idea that such a person would ever be in the same place
that she was hanging out.

Hunter
Reardon had kissed her—wanted to see
her again.

Was
it
really him, though?
 
She looked at
him furtively again, and yes.
 
Now
it was obvious, like one of those jumbled up pictures where you stare long
enough and suddenly the image pops out at you and you can’t believe you didn’t
see it all along.

“What’s
your
name?” he whispered.

She leaned in.
 
“Kallie.”

“Tell
me your number,” he said.

The
knock
came again, louder this time.
 
“What’s going on?
 
Are you
coming out or what?” Red said, clearly not happy.
 
Maybe he’d heard about the fight.

“I
need
to go,” she said, still whispering.
 
And then she leaned in and told him her number, not knowing if he’d even
remember it, or call her if he did.

Hunter
nodded
and seemed as though he was trying to commit it to memory for a moment.
 
And then he kissed her again.

When
the
kiss broke off, she opened the door just wide enough to scoot out into the
hallway.
 
“Sorry,” she said.
 
“I just need to get my things from
Danielle.

Red’s
expression
was dismayed to say the least.
 
“Let’s do it fast.
 
Hopefully
she’s
not going to hold it against
you that you started a bar room brawl at her pool party.” Kallie’s lips
tightened as she heard what he said, and registered that he wasn’t exactly
happy with her behavior at this little
gathering.

But
despite
Nicole’s husband’s disapproval, she couldn’t help but feel a soaring happiness
in her chest.
 
She’d met someone
special.
 
She’d met a man who seemed
different from anyone she’d ever met—someone that had stood up for her.

It
was
something her brothers would have done, had they been here.
 
It was protective, like family.

And
on
top of that, he’d written maybe her favorite book she’d ever read—well,
almost finished reading.

So
Kallie
and Red found Danielle, and Danielle went and got her things. And soon after that,
they were driving home in silence.

“Can
I ask you a favor?” she said, after a
time.

“What?”
he
replied, not sounding particularly interested in granting favors.

“Could you not tell Nicole about the
fight?
 
I don’t want her to feel bad
for sending
me to her friend’s
party.”

Red
glanced
at her, and for a brief moment, his eyes softened.
 
He nodded slowly. “Fine.
 
But next time maybe you should just tell
your buddy not to go around punching people, and then we won’t have this
problem.”

***

Nicole
was upset and she wasn’t sure she had a
right to be.

Red
hadn’t
called her or texted her for hours, and then when he finally did, it was just a
quick apology for losing track of time.

It
shouldn’t
have bothered her so much, especially not when she’d been the one who pushed
him to go to that party with Kallie.

But
it
wasn’t until the two of them came home together that alarm bells sounded. First
of all, they weren’t speaking or even looking at one another.
 
She noticed it right away when she asked
them how the party had gone.

Red
just shrugged.
 
“It was a party.
 
Kane wrangled me into a corner most of
the night.”
 
He gave her a quick and
impersonal peck on the cheek as he walked by, and she smelled beer on his
breath.

“Were
you drinking?”

“Just
two,”
he said, making his way to the kitchen.
 
“You seem like you’re feeling better.”

“A
little.”

Kallie
was
standing in the hallway, near the stairs.
 
Her hair was a mess and her dress looked wet and disheveled.
 
“I’m going to head upstairs, Nicole.
 
I’m really, really tired.”

“Everything
okay?”

Kallie’s
eyes cut to Red—nervously—and
then back to Nicole.
 
“Yes.”

“Okay.”
Nicole
turned to glance at Red, who was standing with his back to them, looking in the
refrigerator.

“So,
I’ll
see you tomorrow,” Kallie said, trying to smile.
 
And then she went quickly upstairs.
 
Nicole couldn’t get over the feeling
that something had gone on between the two of them, as crazy as it was.

Or
was
it?
 
Kallie was objectively gorgeous
and young, and Nicole knew very little else about the girl.
 
Kallie had already gotten into some kind
of sexual scrape with a married man, and here Nicole had gone off and
practically given her husband permission to get to know her in a party setting,
with alcohol and nobody to hold them accountable.

Red
took
a plate of leftovers out of the fridge.
 
“I don’t know about her,” he muttered, placing the leftovers on the
counter and taking off the foil.

Nicole
walked
closer, trying to gauge his mood.
 
He wasn’t happy, that was for sure.
 
“Did she do something, say something?”

He
shrugged.
 
“She’s just weird.”

“Weird how?”

“I
don’t
know.
 
I’m just saying.
 
I told you from the beginning that it
wasn’t such a great idea to have her stay here.”

Nicole
felt her stomach somersault.
 
“What did you do?”

“What
did
I do?” He looked at her like she was crazy.
 
“You know what, it’s late and I’m pretty
tired.
 
Just forget the whole
conversation.”

She
tapped
her fingers on the counter.
 
“You
brought it up.
 
I’m just trying to
understand why the two of you came home acting so strangely.”

Red
just
shook his head.
 
“I’m not acting
strangely, Nicole.
 
I think you’re
jumping on me for no reason.”

“It’s
not no reason.”

“What,
because
I drank a beer with Kane?
 
It was a
party.
 
And I didn’t even want to go
to it in the first place.”

She
wanted
to accuse him.
 
She wanted to tell
him that it was bizarre how they came in not even speaking to one another,
acting so guilty, as if something had happened. Something they probably both
regretted immediately afterward.

But
Nicole
didn’t say any of those things.
 
The
headache had returned and her stomach was upset now.
 
She decided to just go back to bed and
try to do what Red advised, and forget the whole conversation—no, forget
the whole night—had even happened.

***

When
Nicole
woke up the next morning, she felt like a new person.
 
She wondered if it was possible that
she’d actually been temporarily insane or something, because the things she’d
been thinking were just crazy.