Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
P iper’s mind raced through all the reasons why she should not be doing this, while her body ignored logic and went ahead and did what it wanted. She encouraged Blake to deepen the kiss with her lips and her tongue and the rest of her body pressed against his until there was no room left to think.
He held her so tight her feet left the ground and it was hard to breathe, but she didn’t care. It was like getting that first drink of water on a hot August day in Tennessee.
“Are you sure…,” Blake muttered in between gasps of air.
“Shut up.”
If he kept talking, she’d have to think, and if she thought about this, she’d tell herself to stop, and she really, really didn’t want to stop.
“This is a bad idea.” Blake kissed her neck as his hands found the bottom of her shirt and pushed it up.
“Probably.” She tugged at his shirt, but his arms were in the way, and damn him for not having any buttons she could just rip open. “Can you get rid of this? You’re too tall.”
He took a half step back and looked at her with a dangerous light in his eyes. “I thought you were helping me with work today, not my shirt.”
She huffed her impatience and gestured at him to get on with it.
He stood there looking stubborn and smug all the clichés of temptation and didn’t shift the shirt even an inch. “We really shouldn’t be doing this.”
She could walk out. That would teach him a lesson.
Screw that.
She wasn’t in the mood for games. She was in the mood for sex, and the faster they got to it, the better.
It felt like they were in an elevator and they’d hit the stop button and they only had the time it would take for the fire department to show up.
She pulled her shirt up over her head and tossed it to the side. It landed on a pile of paper that promptly fell over. “Yes, we really should. Right. Now.”
His gaze fixated on her breasts. “Just want to be sure we’re on the same page.”
She pointed at his shirt. “Why is that still on?”
He pulled the shirt halfway up then stopped. It was just enough to give her a tantalizing glimpse of abs that looked so defined, so incredibly hot that they should be illegal.
“Maybe we should wait.”
He smirked and jiggled his shirt up a little further but didn’t take it off.
“Maybe we should.” She unclasped her bra and let it fall to the floor. Air rushed across her breasts and teased her into full attention. If that didn’t get him naked, she’d have to seriously rethink everything she knew about men.
He gazed down at her, gratifyingly dumbstruck by the view, and then he ripped his shirt the rest of the way off. “Or we could, maybe, just this one time. You know. Just for fun. ”
“Right. No pressure. No strings.” She wasn’t looking for a relationship right now, but being around Blake so much the past few weeks had pointed out exactly how long it had been since she’d had sex, and, damn, watching him take his shirt off was the most erotic thing she’d ever seen.
His shirt fell to the floor in a heap next to the whiteboard. A couple of sticky notes fluttered down on top of it.
She ran her hands over his trademarked, award-winning abs. “My God, they’re real. I thought they were airbrushed.”
“Not even a little bit.” He kissed her. It was hungry and greedy and not at all gentle.
Her head spun, and she forgot how to use words for a bit while the rest of her body tingled in anticipation.
God, he smelled good, like vanilla and apples and woodsy-fresh air.
He lifted his head to look at her with lust-filled eyes. “So we agree?”
“Just friends blowing off steam.” She dragged his head down for another kiss. He was so tall she had to stand on tiptoe and he had to bend at an awkward angle and their noses got in the way, but his hands…she moaned when they found the small of her back and pressed. “You have been under a lot of stress lately.”
“And you did… great work today.” Blake planted little kisses down the side of her neck.
“We both did.” She gasped when his hand brushed across the tip of her breast.
“You sure?” His lips found a sensitive spot on her neck.
“Yes, dammit. Yes.” She took his face in both hands and locked her lips on his.
He tasted like the lingering sweetness of soda and bad life choices, and it lit a fire inside her that needed immediate attention.
He spun her around and pushed her up against the whiteboard, which toppled backward. They fell with it then slid the rest of the way to the ground.
They landed hard on the wood floor and rolled over sticky notes until she lay flat on her back and he was awkwardly propped on one arm as he tried to avoid landing on her.
A bright-pink sticky note sailed down in between them and floated gently to rest in between her breasts. They both watched it fall.
“Ow. Damn this floor is hard. Wait. Something’s poking…” She squiggled to the left, away from the whiteboard, and pulled out a magnet.
She held it out to him. “Seriously?”
“Sorry.” Blake took it and threw it over his shoulder. “I should get a rug.”
They picked themselves up off the floor and gaped at the mess.
“Think it’s a sign?” she asked.
He nodded. “Yes. I should definitely go full digital.”
“We should find somewhere less…hard.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the door.
He stopped her momentum with a tug on her hand and dragged her close, his body pressed into hers. “Too late.”
She grinned. “I feel that.”
He buried her in another kiss, then another, and another.
“Why isn’t there a couch in here?” She was breathless and hot and ready for more. Her fingers tangled with the buttons on his jeans. She was so anxious to get access to the rest of him that her fingers refused to cooperate. “Are these painted on or something?”
“I’ll do mine, you do yours.”
It took her a little longer than it took him. She was sweaty, and her leggings were sticking to her like sadistic glue, but she got them off and out of the way.
Blake was down to socks and boxer briefs that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. “This isn’t going to be a problem, right?”
An involuntary flex of muscles drew her attention to the body parts that were still covered. “Oh, it’s a big problem.”
Desire flared in his eyes. “Who needs a couch?”
He pushed her back until she fell into the thankfully cushioned chair. His hands caressed her breasts, his mouth took possession of hers, and then he reached behind her to pull her up to him until she was half off the chair, bare breasts pressed against bare chest.
Sweet all that was holy, the man could kiss.
It was an exploration of mouth and tongue that made an ache bloom between her legs.
When was the last time she’d had raw, primal sex like this? When was the last time she’d even wanted it? She couldn’t remember.
Her lips tingled, and she couldn’t catch her breath by the time it ended, but she desperately wanted more.
Blake was talking.
She knew he was because she could feel the vibration against her ear, but her brain was scrambled, and she had trouble making sense of the words.
“Should I stop?” He hovered over her with his hands on the arms of the chair to brace himself and waited for an answer.
She snapped the waist of his boxer briefs. “Get rid of these.”
Heat and desire flared in his eyes as he took a step back. “Switch with me."
She scooted out from under him, and the two of them jostled for position. He was out of the briefs so fast it was like they’d vanished, and then he settled in the chair. She stood in front of him, mostly naked except for the black lace thong and aching with anticipation.
She hadn’t planned on being naked in front of anyone today, and for a second she felt a flare of insecurity as a thousand thoughts tried to crowd in and take over.
How long had it been since she’d shaved? She’d showered this morning, but was her deodorant still working? She’d gained a few pounds, did they show? What about her breath? What did they have for lunch…oh crap, were there onions?
His gaze locked on hers, and she drank in the desire and excitement she found there. It made her feel beautiful and sexy, and she could see why so many women devoured his movies.
He was a movie star, in all caps, and he was looking at her like she was the star.
She lowered herself onto his lap and ran her hands over his chest, up his neck, then buried her fingers in his hair. All the insecurities and concerns and thoughts of what the morning after might look like vanished in a rush of adrenaline-fueled lust and need.
He shifted her until they bumped tantalizingly against each other, but she couldn’t get close enough to do more than tease. The sensation of almost touching was making her ache. She spread her legs a little wider and pushed a little harder, but there was no way to make it work.
“This chair”—she gasped as his fingers touched a sensitive spot between her legs—“sucks.”
With a growl of frustration, he stood up, holding her so tight against him she could feel every muscle along his torso ripple.
It was a move she’d only seen done in the movies, but now she knew why. It kind of hurt.
She wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck and pressed into him, which put her almost exactly where she’d wanted to be. Almost, but not quite. “I want you. Now. Yesterday. Hurry the fuck up.”
He moaned and took possession of her mouth again. The kiss was hard, anxious, and almost feral. She could have died in that kiss and felt like she’d led a full life. There was something primal in it. A desire so strong it blew right past any remaining inhibitions or hesitations. The ache between her legs was almost unbearable now, a delicious, sweet torture that drove her insane. The anticipation of reaching climax almost brought her there all on its own.
Almost.
Her back slammed into something hard…the door to the office. It pushed the remaining air out of her lungs, but it didn’t matter. She dug in her heels into his butt in an effort to speed him up like a horse in a race.
“Hurry! Hurry!”
He carried her down the hall to his bedroom with his hands gripping her ass so tight it hurt.
He hit the bedroom door with his shoulder, and it banged open with a thud.
They tumbled onto the bed, Piper underneath him, her legs still wrapped firmly around his waist.
Blake took possession of one of her nipples with his mouth, sucking and teasing it until it was rock hard, and then his teeth grazed over it, creating a wave of sensation that made her involuntarily arch her back.
“Oh God, stop screwing around.”
His smile was predatory and filled with promise. “If you’re sure…”
She showed him how sure she was by reaching down and stroking him. She only managed a few quick touches before he growled something incoherent and slipped into her with a groan that she answered with one of her own.
He filled her until there was no room left for words. His first movements were slow and, from the look on his face, an effort to restrain himself. She thought he might be trying to wait until she was ready, but she was beyond that point .
She was so ready she was going to explode.
She put everything she had into encouraging him to do what she wanted until the world shifted and turned upside down and she orgasmed with a scream of triumph.
Blake climaxed a few seconds later with a low moan that sounded almost inhuman. He spasmed inside her, hitting all the overly sensitive nerves in an enticing way that almost made her come again.
They rode the waves together, slowing gradually as the tingles died away, leaving a saturated kind of satisfaction in its wake.
Blake flopped over onto the bed next to her, and they both lay still, catching their breath.
She didn’t want to move.
She was spent, but she felt awake and alive at the same time. Every nerve ending vibrated with signals that made her brain overload, and the first thing she thought of was how long they should wait before they did it again.
Not that they should.
No, they definitely shouldn’t do that again.
Why not?
A vague memory of something floated back to her. “What was that crash? Did I imagine that?”
“The lamp.” He gestured at the side table where the lamp now lay on its side, in danger of rolling off.
She giggled. She’d never been so out of control during sex before. She glanced at Blake.
He was splayed out on the bed like DaVinci’s V itruvian Man , with one leg thrown over hers and his hand touching her arm. His eyes were closed in a wince of pain or maybe regret.
Reality crept slowly back, bringing with it what-the-hell-have-I-done panic. She had no problem with a fun romp in the sheets, but what if he did?
She propped herself up on one elbow. His body was a sculpted work of art that she wanted to keep touching, but she kept her hands to herself. “That was fun.”
He grunted. “Too fun.”
“Just so you know, I’m not expecting anything. We don’t have to do the awkward morning-after dance.”
“I don’t think I could dance right now even if you wanted to.” He looked at her. “Wait, what did you say?”
She poked his side. “What’s up with that face? Did you pull something?”
He rubbed his face with one hand and moaned. “I’m so screwed.”
It wasn’t the reaction she’d been expecting. “What’s wrong with you?”
“I just lost my deal with Marshall.” He took a deep breath and let out a satisfied sigh. “That’s okay. It was absolutely worth it.”
A pleased smile spread across her face, and relief made her breath catch. So he wasn’t worried about the sex, he was worried about…wait a minute.
“What deal?”
He rolled over on his side and propped his head up with one hand while the other absentmindedly traced a path up her stomach, over her breast, and back down. It felt deliciously sinful and sent shivers all down her spine.
“Remember that night you came over to run lines with me and Marshall showed up?”
“How could I forget that? It’s the night I met Marshall freaking Weston. I gloated about that to Della for days.”
“Yeah, you made an impression on him too.” Blake grimaced. “So to make sure he kept his hands off you, I made a deal with him.”
She pushed his hand away before she forgot the point of the conversation. “You’re saying Marshall has a crush on me? ”
“His idea of a crush is to screw around for a few weeks and then move on to the next girl. You get that, right?”
“It’s practically tattooed on his forehead.” She hadn’t been interested in falling into bed with him, but she’d enjoyed the hell out of flirting with him. “And you wanted to keep his hands off me…why?”
“So you could focus.” He blinked at her with not-so-innocent eyes.
“That makes no sense.”
“Sure it does. You were learning, and Marshall needed to focus on Conned . So we made a deal. Neither of us was supposed to touch you until after Conned wrapped, after which we’d both be free to ask you out and you could choose.”
She stared at him in disbelief. “You and Marshall…made a deal.”
He nodded.
“A deal to not have sex with me.”
“Yep.”
Indignation flared. She looked around at the messed-up bed, the lamp that had fallen over, and the sticky note still attached to his leg. “So what was this?”
“Oh, epic fail.” He lay back with his hands behind his head, looking unashamed and very full of himself.
She was dumbfounded. Nothing like this had ever happened to her before.
At least, she didn’t think it had.
He raised an eyebrow at her. “Is that a problem?”
“I haven’t decided. Let me get this straight. You two talked about me behind my back, made a deal without asking me like I’m some sort of prize at a carnival.” She considered him. “I should be furious. No wonder you were acting funny all week. You were trying to avoid me on purpose. ”
“It was hard as hell to keep my hands off you. That should be worth something, right?”
“I’m pretty sure there’s some sort of feminist code that’s just been trampled on. I should probably rant about it for a bit. You know, for women’s rights. Girl power. Whatever.”
“Okay. Go ahead.” His gaze lingered on her lips then dropped to her breasts. “Take your time.”
She lay back against the pillows. She was still riding an orgasm high, and she didn’t want to ruin it. “I’m too relaxed to rant.”
Besides, two fantastically hot Hollywood leading men were basically fighting over her. Della was absolutely going to die when she found out.
The giggles started slow then built until she clutched her stomach and howled with laughter.
Blake watched her with confused amusement. “What’s so funny?”
“Oh, nothing. It’s just…” She wiped tears out of her eyes. “I can’t wait to see the look on my sister’s face when I tell her Marshall Weston and Blake Ryan are fighting over me.”
“We didn’t fight. No fists were thrown.” Blake relaxed back onto the pillows. “Yet.”
“Why’d you tell me?”
He shrugged. “You’d find out sooner or later. Marshall can’t keep his mouth shut, and I’d rather you heard it from me.”
“You’re an interesting bundle, aren’t you.” She traced her finger down his stomach. “You don’t really fit the whole actor stereotype of hidden agendas and backstabbing.”
“The problem with playing that game is sooner or later it always comes around to bite you in the ass. I’ve seen a lot of careers explode because someone tried to play checkers when someone else was playing chess. I decided the best move was not to play. Being upfront is a lot easier than remembering which lie you told to who.”
She sat up and looked around for her underwear. She found it under the knocked-over lamp. “You’re going to tell Marshall we did this? Why not just…keep it to ourselves?”
“I have to admit I’m not anxious to let him know about this, but I made a deal. I always honor my deals.”
“Impressive.”
“Thanks.” His proud grin told her exactly where his mind had taken that comment.
“I meant the moral code, silly.” She glanced down the length of his body. “But yes, that too.”
His stomach twitched. “Hey, watch that wandering gaze, Princess. I thought we agreed it was just one time.”
She pursed her lips. “Are you sure we didn’t mean one day?”
“If we didn’t, we should have.” He pulled her in for another kiss.
They took their time, the second time around. When they finished, they both needed a shower. As it turned out, Blake’s bathroom was like stepping into a hidden cove. The entire back wall was made of windows, on the other side of which was a formation of natural rocks covered in lush green growing things that kept prying her eyes away. The shower area included a soaker tub on one side and spray jets on the other, while two more shower heads descended from above to provide a waterfall effect.
They took their time in the shower, too.
The next morning, Piper lay curled on her side, sore in all sorts of places, but happy. She stretched and looked up.
Blake watched her with thoughtful eyes and a contented smile .
She’d seen that look before, a couple of times. That look unnerved her and put little butterflies in her stomach. In her experience, when guys watched a woman while she slept, they were picturing something a little heavier than she was prepared to face before she’d had coffee.
Especially when she knew this couldn’t—shouldn’t—happen again.
“It’s creepy to stare at someone while they sleep you know.” She pulled the sheets up to her chin.
“I was just admiring the view.” He would have been the picture of innocence if he hadn’t licked his lips and tried to twitch the cover away from her.
She held on tight. “Stop looking at me like that until I’ve had coffee.”
“Like what?” His gaze traveled down her body like the sheet didn’t exist.
Piper scooted away from the heat in his eyes. “I’m serious. Coffee first. Then we can talk about things.”
He looked thoughtful for half a second, then his expression cleared. “Fine. Do you still have some here, or should I send out for Starbucks?”
“Starbucks, please.” She beamed at him.
“Done.” He got up and disappeared into the closet.
She wrapped herself in the blanket and followed him in to look for a shirt to throw on. His closet was surprisingly sparse, all things considered. He had a lot of jeans and jerseys and neatly pressed plain casual shirts, but only one small section of suits and dress shirts.
She decided to skip his clothes and find her own.
There was still one question that had lingered in her mind since the night before. “So what were the stakes for that so-called deal?”
He squeezed her shoulders as he maneuvered past her to rummage in a dresser for clean underwear. “That part is going to really, really suck. I have to let Rachel dump me in Marshall’s next rom-com.”
“Oh!” She pictured Rachel the Needy and Greedy being the girl who dumped a guy and erupted into a fit of giggles. “Oh…that’s a good one. You should see your face every time Rachel talks to you. Mount Rushmore would be jealous.”
“Like I said. It was worth it.”
A pleasant warmth spread through her under her make-shift toga, and she had a little spring in her step as she examined the rest of his closet. “You have more shoes than Della. Why does anyone need this many tennis shoes?”
“They’re comfortable.” He tugged jeans on then reached for a plain black T-shirt.
“Are you going to tell Rachel why you took the part?”
He stared at her like she’d lost her mind. “Hell no.”
She considered what would happen if Rachel found out and shivered. “Probably smart. She’d rig my car to explode or something.”
“She wouldn’t be that upfront.” He pulled the shirt on, and damn he looked so good in that simple outfit that she wanted to rip it right back off. “Rachel’s a stab-you-in-the-back-from-a-dark-corner kind of girl.”
She followed him out of the closet and down the hall. “What would have happened if I’d slept with Marshall instead?”
“A lifetime of regret.” His face darkened, and she wasn’t sure if he was talking to her or himself.
She poked him in the ribs. “I’m serious. What would he have to do?”
He waited for her to go into the office first. “He’d have to do the change scene in Conned naked instead of in underwear. Where’s my phone? I need to order your Starbucks before there’s an incident. You look like you could get really cranky without it. ”
“I can be downright bitchy without coffee. Don’t even go there.” She helped him hunt for the phone. It wasn’t on the desk, or the table, or the, ahem, chair.
They righted the whiteboard then shuffled through the mess looking for it.
She finally found it under his discarded pants and handed it to him. “Why is it such a big deal for Marshall to do the shot naked? I’ve seen a lot of his movies, and he’s done all kinds of love scenes. He was full frontal for almost a second in Dream Big .”
“It’s not his front he minds showing. It’s his butt.” Blake picked up her bra and handed it to her then dialed. “Hey, Lee, can you make a Starbucks run?”
He glanced at Piper.
“Venti Pumpkin Spice Latte.”
He repeated her request. “Make it two of those, and can you stop by Tasty Pastry and get some of those quiches? Get some for the crew too. Thanks.”
She folded her bra up and stuffed it into her purse. “He showed his butt in Dream Big too. Della made me watch that scene on repeat, and there wasn’t anything wrong with it.”
Blake started to collect all of the fallen sticky notes. “That wasn’t his butt. It was one of the stunt guy’s.”
She snorted a laugh. “He had a butt double?”
“Always.”
“Why?” She found her shirt and leggings and put them on, leaving the blanket neatly folded on the back of the chair.
Blake’s expression turned secretive. “I can’t tell you. Trust me, the only reason he made this deal in the first place was because he thought I’d cave, not because he thought he would.”
“Come on. Spill.” She was dying of curiosity. “Why would the great Marshall Weston, the man who appeared to have no shame and no boundaries, be afraid of showing his backside? ”
Blake shook his head, and his chin tilted a little in stubborn refusal. “Can’t. Sorry.”
They spent the next thirty minutes cleaning up the mess in the office. When they were done, the piles of paper were stacked neatly on the table by topic, the sticky notes were in the trash, and the room felt less like the aftermath of a storm.
The whiteboard, though, looked like someone had dragged a giant eraser across the middle of it. She supposed that was where her butt had been.
They shifted to the kitchen when breakfast arrived. Piper walked around the kitchen, stunned by the size of it, while Blake set up the quiche and coffee on one of the islands. “I think your kitchen is bigger than the one at the Belhurst. Are you a chef or something?”
Blake snorted. “I don’t cook. My housekeeper loves it though.”
The exposed beams from the living room continued into the kitchen to blend with the rich, dark wood of the cabinets. White stucco walls and arched doors leading out onto the patio made the space bright and comfortable, but what caught her attention was the two eight-foot-long kitchen islands in the center of the room.
“Carrie would bust something if she saw this setup.” Piper walked down the space between the islands with her arms outstretched. “You basically have a runway.”
“Is Carrie your housekeeper?”
“Lord, no. Carrie’s the chef at my sister’s inn. My place isn’t big enough to need a housekeeper. I like it, though. It’s cozy. Yours feels like a resort.” She ran her hand along one of the cabinets. “Is it just you and the housekeeper here?”
“Full time, yes. But she brings in a crew to help clean sometimes, and Marshall stays here a lot.”
“It’s a lot of space for one guy and his housekeeper to rattle around in. Seems like it would be lonely. Why didn’t you go for something smaller?”
Blake busied himself with heating up the quiche. “The director who owned the place used to have a lot of dinner parties, and my mom would bring me with her sometimes. When he died, some meth heads bought it and by the time it was repossessed it needed too much work to resell, especially because there’s rules when it comes to renovating something historic. It sat abandoned for almost a decade, until I came along. I just didn’t want to see it fall apart.”
He put two plates and the Starbucks elixir on one of the islands. “Breakfast is served.”
She climbed onto a barstool and spent the next few minutes in pumpkin-flavored caffeine bliss while Blake eyed his with suspicion.
She pointed at his coffee. “You going to drink that or not?”
Blake took a tentative sip of his coffee.
She waited for his reaction.
He licked his lips and gave a grudging nod. “Not horrible.”
“Not horrible? It’s Nirvana in a cup.” She took another sip and gave a happy sigh. “This is my bliss.”
He took another cautious sip and smacked his lips. “It tastes like pie.”
“That’s how we get you. First, you get hooked on this, then we shift you to the hard stuff.” She finished off her coffee with a satisfied slurp. “So Marshall’s off the hook with his deal now?”
Blake pushed his coffee closer to her. “Hell no. He still has to honor his side. That’s why it’s a deal, not a bet.”
An evil spark of inspiration struck. “Does it void things if I approach him first?”
“No…,” he said slowly. “Not sure I like where this is headed.”
His face took on a stony expression she was beginning to recognize as a massive stubborn streak hidden beneath layers of charisma.
She rolled her eyes at him. “I’m not going to sleep with Marshall. But does he have to get horizontal with me, or can it just be a kiss?”
A slow, sly smile worked its way onto Blake’s face. “A kiss is enough, and it counts if you approach him. I made sure of that.”
Her wicked grin matched his. Even though she should be offended, she wasn’t. She liked Marshall. He was fun to hang out with, and he’d been a huge help. The voice work had gone so well in part because of him, so she couldn’t be mad at him for something as silly as this.
She wasn’t mad at Blake either, she realized. Marshall was superficial fun, and Blake was…
He was…
Damn he was a good time. She liked him. A lot. He was passionate about his craft, and he didn’t screw around when it came to getting stuff done. A girl could depend on a guy like that.
Waking up to find him staring at her, though, made her feel more jittery than the coffee. It was too soon. They’d only known each other a few weeks, and it was just a fun romp in the sheets. It wasn’t like they were anything serious. They weren’t even dating. They were…hell. She didn’t know what they were.
In the harsh light of the morning after, she could see how this could all go horribly wrong. She should never have indulged like this. She should have listened to her head and not her libido.
It wasn’t the sex that bothered her. It was the aftermath, especially right now.
If people found out, they’d think she’d screwed her way into a new career instead of earning it. Resentment over the unfairness of it bubbled in her chest.
She pictured the headlines and the tweets that would erupt the second the public got wind of this hookup, and her stomach did a little tango with the coffee.
If she were still just a Bellamy Babe, it wouldn’t matter who she slept with. Now that she was trying to be more than that, it mattered. At least for now.
She looked at Blake with real regret. “You know we can’t do this again, right?”
He let out a long sigh. “I know. I was thinking the same thing.”
“You were?” That look on his face this morning had said more please, not let’s take it slow.
He scratched at the stubble on his chin. “Don’t get me wrong, I would love a repeat performance, but it’s bad timing. We’re doing this project together. The stakes are too big to have that kind of drama get in the way. Not right now.”
It would be irrational to be upset to hear him echo her own reasons for backing off, but her throat tightened just the same. “I can just see the headline. Piper Bellamy sleeps her way to a new career.”
Blake winced. “I’m sorry, it’s not right, but that’s probably how they’d play it. You don’t deserve that.”
She appreciated that he saw the double standard that existed in the media and that he was trying to make this easy for both of them, but now that they’d said it out loud, disappointment sat around her like a heavy, itchy blanket.
Last night had been more fun than she could remember having in a long time. She wasn’t ready for anything serious, but she sure wouldn’t mind having a little bit more of Blake Ryan.
It was a shame it had to be this way. Sitting here in his kitchen drinking coffee felt so right she didn’t want it to end.
Not that it had to until she left the sanctuary of his home. Nobody knew what they were doing inside these walls. For this one moment, the rest of the world simply didn’t exist. There was a lot of possibility in that.
After another long sip of glorious, life-giving caffeine, she asked, “So, since you already lost your deal, care to double down before I go?”