Danny (Models On Top #1) (10 page)

“Your key, Reese. Is it in your purse?”

“My key?” He nods, and I realize he means my room key. “Oh! Yes, my key.” I reach down and open my clutch, pulling out the card. He takes it from me and slips it in the slot, making even the small action seem so much naughtier and sexier than it should, or I even thought possible.

The door is opened and he escorts me inside. I go for the bed, needing to lie down. As soon as I do, his fingertips slide down my shins, igniting my legs with a sexual energy, making me forget all about the shin splints I had the other day. Farther, farther. I barely breathe in anticipation of what he’s about to do to me.

Ah.

Aww.
My feet feel so good, free from the spiked confines of the platforms.

He takes one heel off and then the other and I push up, moving myself into a sleeping position. “Thank you,” I murmur, my head melting into the comfy pillow.

He sits on the bed next to me as my body eases onto the mattress. Reaching forward, he pushes my hair back away from my face. If I knew better, I wouldn’t have allowed him inside my room. The way he’s looking at me, the feel of his skin touching mine—it’s all too dangerous for my heart, for my body in such a vulnerable state. He leans down and kisses my cheek and I let him because I like him near, even more this close. I shouldn’t, but I do. How can I not? I’ve always been attracted to this man, to Danny.
My Danny.
Then, he whispers, “For the record, I remember everything about you.”

I’m tired. My eyes close on their own as the dream world starts sweeping me away, but I manage to say, “You forgot me, Danny.
You forgot me
.”

WITH MY BACK
against the door, I remain for a few minutes. A housekeeper eyes me as she walks down the hall. When she passes, she greets me, “Good evening, Sir.”

“Good evening,” I reply, pushing off and walking away from Reese’s room reluctantly. I want to stay. I want to do much more than stay, but my fate was sealed with her last cocktail. Despite her state, she knew how to hit me hard, hit me when I couldn’t argue back.

“You forgot me”
plays on a loop through my mind as I trudge down the stairs back to the bar. I was dropped from the high I was riding as soon as she muttered those three words, affecting her enough for her to repeat them as she fell asleep. When I reach the first floor, I swipe my hands through my hair before I turn the corner. Mark and Vittori are standing near the entrance talking when I join them.

Vittori gives me a look like we’re in on some secret together. He says, “You’ve been gone a while. Did you get Ms. Carmichael in bed?”

What?
“Excuse me?”

“She was tired. I take it you made sure she made it back to her room?”

“Yes, don’t worry,” I say, shorter than I should be with him considering he’s my new boss. I’m still thrown off from being with Reese upstairs, but take a deep breath and exhale, trying to find the balance I had prior to seeing her this morning. “She’s sound asleep.” Vittori looks over the moon from this news. Mark is glaring at me. I bypass him and focus on the one practically squealing in delight. Vittori asks, “I take it she has your number if she needs anything?”

“She does,” I respond, finding him easy to please.

Mark’s stare is icy at best. I’ll thaw him out tomorrow by reminding him nothing happened.

Mark replies, “Hopefully she’ll get a good night’s rest and be ready for the flight home tomorrow. If there’s anything I can do during the rest of your stay, you have my card. Feel free to call me.” He shakes Vittori’s hand and wishes him a good night.

Vittori winks at me and heads for the elevator after saying goodbye. When Mark and I walk outside, he stops and asks, “Be straight with me. You didn’t fuck her, did you?”

While feigning offense, I remember the many times I did fuck her. But since he’s acting like an ass and referring to tonight, I respond sarcastically, “Nope. She fell asleep before I could.”

“Are you messing with me? You better be fucking with me.”

Hitting him on the chest, I laugh. “Calm down. I didn’t make any moves on her. When she wakes up in the morning, she will only remember what a perfect gentleman I was… If she remembers anything at all.”

His stance eases and he smiles. Well, as much as Mark can manage to smile, which isn’t much. “She is hot.”

I lower my defenses. She’s not mine to feel possessive over any longer. “She is.”

“She could have modeled.”

“Could have?”

“She’s too old to be starting out in this business now.”

“I can’t have this conversation.”
Not about her. Not tonight.
The lightness that we had is gone. “I need to get home. I’m too tired.”

By the way his eyes are squinting, has one cheek lifted, and his eyebrows tilting downward, he’s clearly baffled. So am I. By my own behavior. That’s why I need to go. A cab pulls up and I rush for it, needing to get out of here before I tell secrets that shouldn’t be shared. “We’ll talk soon.”

“Don’t forget Vargo.”

“I won’t,” I reply and slam the door shut with me tucked inside. I give the driver directions to my place and lean my head back. Staring outside the window, the lights of businesses flash by until we hit the freeway. The dark is wanted. Needed in fact. I feel exposed. My heart is on my fucking sleeve and I don’t want anyone to witness it.

At home, I empty my pockets, dumping everything on the kitchen counter and reach for a glass. I would bother with the shot glass if someone else was here, but since I’m alone, I don’t lie to myself.

With half a glass of bourbon in hand, I make my way into the bedroom and strip down after a few hard swigs of the amber liquid. The sheets are cold. I fucking hate cold sheets. I climb in anyway since I have no choice but to warm them up myself. Grabbing the remote, I open the curtains. There’s no view from here, but staring at the few stars I can see in the sky is better than drinking in the dark. The stars are better company than my thoughts tonight.

The glass balances on my chest as I lie there. I lift to take a sip and fall back, letting the alcohol heat my throat and lower into my chest. Closing my eyes, I remember too much… too much…

My body pins her against the wall. Her door is the next obstacle on this ride home from the party. I just want her. I’ve wanted her for so long. I bend forward and kiss Reese. Her hands tighten on my shoulders, pulling me closer. She tilts her head back and says, “My roommate is gone.”

This is it. Months of buildup have led us here. I feel like I’m about to explode. “God, I want you so much.”

“Me too.” She spins around and sticks her key in the lock. The room is dark, but we know it by heart. We’ve fumbled our way around this dorm room many times while making out. But tonight’s the night. I don’t want fumbling. I want it to be perfect for her, and since my roommate is scoring with a Tri-Delt, her room is our only option.

She leads me to her twin-sized bed. Our breathing can be heard to a distracting level. “Should we put some music on?”

“Sure.” She walks to her nightstand and starts a song.

My head tilts to the side. “Is this a boy band?”

“Yeah. I like this song.”

“I can’t have sex with you the first time while they’re singing about lollipops and puppy love.” I look down. “I’m already going soft listening to them.”

She laughs. “How about classical?”

“Okay, but no Beethoven. No man can live up to those crescendos.”

“I didn’t know you knew so much about music.”

“A little. Not much.”

“Okay,” she asks, “how about Maroon 5?”

“No. I don’t want to compete with Adam Levine.”

“Amy Winehouse?”

“Too depressing.”

“Barry White?”

“You have Barry White?”

She shakes her head. “No, but I heard it’s supposed to be sexy music.”

Taking her hand I tug her back to bed. She lands next to me, all smiles and smelling beautiful. “We don’t need music. We’ll make our own.”

She kisses my cheek and then sits up to take her shirt off. The room goes quiet again while I watch her. I’ve seen her breasts many times, felt them, kissed them, but knowing this is only the beginning and not the end changes everything. Lifting up on my elbows, I angle to get a better view.

Her snow boots, socks, and jeans come off next. I take the cue and take off my shirt and jeans after flipping off my boots and socks. She doesn’t bother keeping her underwear on, so I don’t either. She settles back down, but this time on top of me.

My hands roam her sides. She’s little compared to me. Lean, but has great curves. I turn over, wanting her underneath me the first time. We start kissing and our bodies move against each other until my knee slips between her legs. She’s wet and fucking my leg. Fuck. I readjust, needing to be inside her.

Reaching over, I grab a condom from my jeans pocket. She slides up and down my thigh, her breathing erratic until her eyes are squeezed closed and her mouth opens. “Danny, please. I need you.”

“I’m not gonna last.”

“Neither will I,” she whispers.

When she spreads wider, I angle, then reposition and put the condom on. I cover her mouth with mine again, my hips pressing between her legs. Just the feel of her sends waves of sexual cravings racing through my body. Fuck. I’ve got to calm down.

Her hand touches my cheek and she says, “Go slow, at first. Okay?”

I nod, words seeming impossible. Kissing her again, I slowly push into her welcoming heat.

My thoughts are floating, my body engulfed by the most amazing feeling. I want to tell her I love her, but I’m aware enough to know now’s not the time. I pull back and push in again. Opening my eyes, I see her pretty face, flush with emotion. She says, “It’s better than I thought.”

I stop. “Better than you thought? Ummm.”

Laughing, she corrects, “No. No. That’s not what I meant. I just always knew it would be amazing with you. It’s even better than amazing.” I relax and start moving again. She adds, “Like so much better. God, that feels so good. You feel so good.”

“You do too. You feel incredible.” I kiss her neck. “This makes you mine.”

“I was always yours, Danny.”

…I’m not sure what time I finish the bourbon or what time I finally fall asleep, but I wake up when the sun rises. Hard. Uncomfortably hard.
I was always yours, Danny.
Except she wasn’t. She hasn’t been mine for over ten fucking years. Closing the curtains, I try to go back to bed, not bothering to check the time, and ignoring the urge I have to masturbate to the memory of the first time we had sex.

Fuck it!

I take care of business and go back to bed.

9:37 stares back at me from the clock on my nightstand. Eleven. I told Reese I’d pick her up at eleven. While I lie there a minute longer, last night weighs down on me. My eyes burn, my body heavy. A few more hours of sleep would help, but I won’t miss this chance to spend some time with her. Too many questions still remain unanswered.

How is she still single?

Why pick me for this job?

Does she have a boyfriend?

How attached to New York is she?

How does she look that fucking incredible?

And, the one question that has burned inside me for over a decade. The one question I was too damaged to confront her about before… before now.

Why didn’t she show up?

I get in the shower, letting the water run down over my head. With my face under the spray I realize I’ve thought more about her, about our past in the last twenty-four hours than I have since I saw her back in Nebraska.

We were different people back then. Clearly I didn’t know her at all. In this life, the one I created after her, I don’t utter her name. I don’t dwell on our history. I don’t look at the photos I’ve got in that Nike shoebox buried in the back of my closet. She doesn’t exist in my life, in this world that was born from our breakup.

But now I have to. She’s come back into my life demanding me to see her because of this campaign, to smell her, to think about her, to touch her because I can’t be that close to her and not do any of those things.

The scale feels suspiciously balanced in her favor. How long was she planning this reintroduction into my life? And if she plotted this all along, why was she so distant during the meeting? Why are we pretending we don’t know each other—for her benefit, mine, or both?

She had time to prepare, to plan for this reunion, but I got no heads-up or warning at all. What does she really want from me? What does she hope to gain beyond using my name and reputation I’ve built in this industry?

I’m so fucking confused. Maybe I don’t want to play this game. Or, maybe it’s time I take the control back. Maybe I’ll start making demands of my own.