Escorting the Actress (The Escort Collection Book 2) (14 page)

E
lena had bought me a suit
. I put it on, along with a lavender tie, feeling guilty that I'd kept it. I would send it back to her when we returned to LA, after I'd had it properly dry-cleaned.

I was starting to sound like an adult. It both scared and thrilled me.

Lowell stepped out of the bedroom a second later, her blond hair in waves over one shoulder. She was wearing an ice-blue dress that brought out her eyes and hugged every curve.

I sucked in a breath when I saw her. "You look gorgeous."

She blushed but smiled, clearly pleased. "And you look dashing. I've never seen you in a suit before." She came over and straightened my tie. "I like it. It's very Kyle 2.0."

I beamed and held out my arm. "Shall we?"

She giggled and took it, following me out to the elevator. "Where are we going?"

"To the most romantic restaurant in the city."

"Says who?" she asked.

"Says
Boston Hub
, and about fifteen other websites I checked." I grinned. "There's going to be lobster. And steak. And dancing."

"Dancing?" she asked, obviously horrified.

I grabbed her hand and twirled her in a circle in the elevator. "Trust me. You can handle it."

She tripped a little, and we both laughed.

When we got to the lobby floor, she looked at me. "You can't let me trip like that. It's embarrassing."

I put my arm around her and pulled her against me. "I've got you. Don't you worry."

Britta, the blond concierge, caught sight of us and waved. "I have a message for you guys!"

I raised my hand to her as I hustled Lo out the door. "When we get back!"

I didn't want anything to interfere with my night with Lowell. I didn't want a single interruption.

Evan drove us to the Financial District. We watched through the windows as the city lit up around us, the darkening sky a purplish-blue.

Lowell turned to me. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

I stared at her gorgeous face. "You have no idea."

Her eyes widened for a second, then she shook her head and playfully punched my shoulder. "Once a player, always a player."

"What are you going to do when you finally figure out I'm not playing?"

She studied my face for a minute. I thought I saw a mixture of longing and hope on hers, but I could have been hoping for it, not seeing it.

"I don't know," she said finally.

I put my hand over hers. "You might want to figure it out."

T
he restaurant was located
on the top floor of the highest building in Boston. We could see the whole city spread out below us. Lowell looked out the windows in delight, clutching my hand as she had at Disneyland, the same wonder on her face.

"This is so pretty," she gushed, taking in the view, then the restaurant itself.

The restaurant was set up with tables circling a dance floor. Couples glided over it as a big band played.

"It's fun, isn't it?"

We drank champagne, danced, and shared a lobster dinner. Lowell didn't trip once, so around midnight, we agreed to one last dance. Lowell had announced she was about to turn into a pumpkin if she didn't get to bed soon.

We swayed to the music, our bodies melded together on the dance floor.
We'd been like this all day—pressed up against every inch of each other—and I wasn't sure how we would ever get back to normal. Whatever that was.

I tilted her chin up and leaned down to kiss her.

"Is there a photographer near us or something?" she asked, looking at me warily.

"Yes," I whispered. "Right behind you."

I leaned down and claimed her mouth, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her against me. My body told me how much I wanted her. Still, I didn't want to scare her away, and I wanted to do the right thing. So I pulled back.

"Why'd you do that?" she asked breathlessly.

"Because I thought I saw a photographer," I lied.

She shook her head. "No. Why'd you stop?" She leaned up and kissed me, making my heart race and my temples throb.

We stopped for a second, halted in the middle of the dance floor.

"You don't want me to stop?" I asked.

She shook her head, her eyes wide and urgent. "No. I don't."

We practically ran back to the hotel.

I
told myself
, over and over, that I wasn't going to do it. But when he kissed me like that, and when he stopped—my body took over.

My body—the shameless sex-goddess.

This wasn't a good idea, but I no longer cared. With his mouth on me like that, I couldn't think straight. He pulled me against him in the car, and I clung to him, blocking out all rational thought.

Britta was waiting in the lobby when Kyle hustled me toward the elevator. We ignored her even when she raised her hand at us.

"I still have a message for you," she called.

"Text it to me," Kyle snapped.

He seemed completely single-minded as he rushed me to the elevator. No one else joined us, so he took the liberty of pinning me against the wall. He looked down at me intently.

"Do you want to do this?" His eyes were hooded. "Are you sure?"

I nodded bravely. "Yes."

That seemed to be all the encouragement he needed. "Good." He claimed my mouth hungrily, his tongue searching for mine as he ran his hands down my torso.

I shivered against him then threw all my self-control out the window.
Good riddance
. I put my hands on his fine ass and crushed him against me. Finally feeling him, all of him, pressed against me felt so good.

He hoisted my legs up around his waist and carried me out of the elevator. Somehow he managed to swipe our room key, and we burst through the door of the suite, our lips still crushed together. Then he stopped, placing me gently on the floor and closing the door.

He stalked toward me, his eyes fiery. "You have to mean this. You have to want this as much as me. I can't do it otherwise."

I nodded, shaky and unable to say anything. I just knew that I wanted him—I wanted him so much that nothing else made sense.

I wanted to show him how I felt. I kissed him deeply, our tongues connecting again. Electricity shot through me, and I ran my hand down his back, feeling all of the muscles on his glorious body. He lifted me again and carried me into the bedroom. He laid me gently, reverently, on the bed. My whole body was throbbing in anticipation.

"You have no idea how much I want you," he said, his voice hoarse.

"Yes, I do. I know exactly how much."

He ran his thumb across my cheek and leaned down to kiss me deeply. I grabbed his hand and placed it over my heart.

"I know this is wrong, but it doesn't feel wrong," I whispered breathlessly. I almost tore his coat as I ripped it off him. "It feels right."

"That's because it
is
right." He unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his gloriously enormous chest.

"It's still not a good idea," I whispered as my body was screamed at me to just shut the hell up.

"Doing the right thing is
always
a good idea, babe. Now stop talking." He started to kiss me again then pulled back, hesitating. "Lowell, if you don't want to do this—"

I interrupted him by kissing him hard, letting my body tell him what I was too afraid to say.
I want you. I want you more than I've ever wanted anything.

"I'll shut up if you shut up," I offered breathlessly.

"Deal," he said, grinning wickedly. He unzipped his pants. "At least until you scream my name."

His cock sprang out, enormous and thick and ready for me. Looking at it close up, I was pretty sure I would soon be screaming
something.

I sat up and tentatively wrapped my fingers around him, stroking him slowly as he stepped out of his pants. He moaned and moved against my palm. I got bolder, gripping him more firmly. Then I knelt down and took the tip of him into my mouth, moaning when I tasted him.

"Holy fuck, Lowell," he said hotly as I swirled my tongue around his tip and continued to work my hands up and down his length.

He flexed his hips, and I could see that he'd closed his eyes, his head thrown back. I took all of him, to the base of his shaft, into my mouth. He moaned, and I moved my mouth up his cock, back to the tip, until he moaned again.

"Stop," he growled. "You're gonna make me come like that."

He lifted me and slowly unzipped my dress, stopping to kiss me. His tongue, probing and urgent, found mine. My dress fell to the floor, and he pulled back enough to look at me, stroking my lacy bra reverently.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered.

I just stared at him, every part of my body on fire, and didn't even chastise him for talking. His hands trailed down to my lace underwear. He twisted the bikini strap in his fingers and put his cock between my legs, rubbing against the lace. I heard myself moan in pleasure, but I no longer felt self-conscious.
Holy fuck.
I rubbed against him artlessly, amazed at how good he felt. How thick and hard.

Every wild dream I'd been having about him was coming true. I ran my hands down his chest to the divots near his hips before I kissed his chest, running my tongue along the lines of his pectoral muscles. If this was wrong, if I was going to pay for this—all those thoughts hurtled out the window. I officially no longer gave a fuck.

He undid my bra and cupped my breasts as I took off my underwear. I was wet, ready for him. He used my slickness against me, rubbing his cock against my slit until I was panting. His fingers found my clit and swirled it, lazily, playfully, then pinched it.

I didn't feel lazy or playful. I felt as though if he didn't put his cock in me right now, I was going to burst into flames.

Kyle must have sensed my need. He pushed me back onto the bed gently, his naked body looming gloriously over me. He brushed the hair off my face and just watched me for a moment. Then he went to his bag, grabbed a condom, and rolled it on.

My breath caught in my throat as he straddled me, his cock enormous and thick against me. I grabbed his muscled ass and pulled him to me, running the head of his cock over my sex, getting it even more slick.

"Are you ready for me?" he asked, and I nodded. He eased himself inside me, just the tip, making me moan and writhe.

He put his forehead against mine. "Are you sure?"

In answer, I put my hands on his ass and pushed him into me.

We both cried out. He paused as we caught our breath, then he buried himself in me, my body stretching to accommodate his. He was gentle, but I was impatient, wanting to feel him deeper inside me. His body listened to mine, and his long, deep strokes brought me wave after wave of pleasure.

He continued to thrust, and I greedily drank in the sight of his taut, muscled body over mine. I kept my hands on his hips and his ass, relishing the feel of having him all the way inside me. I hadn't realized how much my body had truly been craving his. Now that he was inside me, I felt complete.

He leaned up on his forearms, pumping into me more urgently. Waves of pleasure tore through me, taking me to the edge.

"Kyle," I moaned, "Kyle…"

"I'm right there with you, babe."

His strokes got deeper, even more urgent, and I shattered, my body clenching around him as he found his release. Our orgasms shook the bed.

"Kyle!" He'd been right. Of course I screamed his name.

L
ater
, he leaned over and ran his thumb along my jawline. "So beautiful…"

I smiled. "Thank you." I meant it for a lot more than just the compliment.

He sighed and threw himself back on the bed. "So what happens now?" There was an edge to his voice.

"Well," I said, flopping onto his chest, "I could be on top again, or we could try it from behind…"

"Naughty girl." He grinned, then his face turned serious. "But I mean it. What happens now?"

I took a deep breath and rolled onto my back, looking at the ceiling. "I don't know. What do you want to happen?" The endless myriad of obstacles we faced whirled in my mind, but I ignored them, holding my breath.
What on earth does Kyle Richards actually want from me?

"I sort of just want you to be my girlfriend." The edge in his voice was jagged now, as if it took a lot for him to say that.

"I am your girlfriend," I said.

"No. I mean, for
real
."

"So do I." I laced my fingers through his, and we continued to lie next to each other. I was still flushed and tingling from Kyle's exploration of my body. "I think this is about as real as it gets."

I was being honest. It was the truth.

But what I'd left out was the more important, more ugly truth: the fact that it was real just made everything that much worse.

I
rolled
over and looked at Lowell the next morning. She was still asleep. I ran my hand down her hair and just stared, hoping I didn't wake her.

She was so beautiful that looking at her hurt.

Last night had been the best night of my life. I didn't want it to be over. I wasn't ready for today. Not yet.

We had to go see my father this morning. The fact that he wanted to speak with Lowell was ominous. I knew he'd made me an excellent offer; I also knew I couldn't accept it—not right now. But Lowell wanted me to. My father was smart; if he suspected that Lowell cared for me, he'd want her to hear him out.

But I couldn't leave Lowell. She had her premiere coming up. She still had to deal with Lucas and the fallout from her puking incident. She still needed me.

But I was fooling myself.
She didn't need me. I needed her.

I watched her chest rise and fall peacefully. The truth was, I didn't want to be away from her. I didn't want to send her back to big, bad Los Angeles alone, even though she was more than capable of handling herself. It wasn't just that I didn't want to let her down—I didn't want to be away from her.

Not now. Not ever.

Last night had confirmed my feelings for her. But I had to make some real changes in my life. If I was ever going to have something to offer her, I needed a career. I couldn't be her boyfriend if I was just an ex-escort or a less-than-minimum-wage surfing instructor.

I also knew my father's offer was the only one I would get. I had no resume, no education, no experience. So I had to find a way for him to understand that I would accept the position, but I needed a little more time. After Lowell's premiere, I would go to work for him and become legitimate and build my own life.

Then I would finally be the man Lowell deserved.

W
e waited
outside Pierce's office. A cold sweat trickled down my back, but I tried to appear calm. Lowell smiled at me, but I saw the stress in her eyes. It had been over ten years since she'd seen my father, and they hadn't parted under friendly circumstances.

After what seemed like forever, his MIT assistant poked her head out. "Pierce will see you now."

I looked at Lowell. "Are you sure you want to do this? You don't have to come in there with me if you don't want to."

She put her hand in mine and squeezed. "I'm coming to support you. We're in this together, remember? Plus, we don't need to make him any more upset than he already is."

I tried to draw strength from her as we went inside. Now I felt as if I were the one walking the plank. We rounded the corner of
the cool, concrete room, and there he was, scowling out the window.

He turned toward us, his eyes running over me briefly before turning to Lowell. Shock registered on his face. "Lowell? Is that… really you? I can't even believe you're the same girl."

"Hello, Pierce."

He just continued to stare at her as though he was in shock.

"You've seen her movies, Dad. And the pictures. You knew she looked different."

My father looked at her as if she had three heads. "
That
is not just different. No offense, young lady, but you were never a looker like your mother."

"Watch it," I said, my tone warning.

Lowell was being strong for me. She seemed to shrug off his brash rudeness. "Coming from you, Pierce, I'll take that as a compliment."

My father looked chastised. He ran his hands through his hair—what was left of it. "I didn't say that to be mean. Sorry. I think I used up all of my mean where your mother was concerned. How is she, anyway?"

Lowell's face went from surprised, to confused, to wary in an instant. "She's okay. She's in Asia right now on a spiritual retreat. I just spoke with her."

"I heard she got divorced again," Pierce said.

"She didn't like Number Four that much," Lowell admitted.

"Poor bastard," my father said. "Well, when you speak to her again, please give her my regards."

Lowell raised her eyebrows. "You're kidding, right?"

Pierce sighed heavily. "No, young lady, I'm not."

She watched his face. "Well… excuse me for being surprised, but the last time I saw you two together, it was really ugly."

"I remember. I've had a lot of time on my hands lately. I've been thinking about her and about him." He jerked his head at me. "How I screwed things up."

Lowell's face softened. "My mother is a piece of work. I'll be the first one to admit that."

"I shouldn't have pushed so hard in court. What's more money anyway? Then maybe she wouldn't have had to get married again. She's never had a job. It's not like she could support herself."

My jaw was practically on the floor as I listened to my father.
He has sympathy for Caroline Barton? Since when?

"Well… that's very chivalrous of you. My mother would probably pass out if she heard you say it." Lowell looked baffled.

Pierce nodded. "Maybe I should tell her when she gets back."

Lowell's eyes were huge in her face. "Right. Huh."

"As for you two"—he pointed at us—"I called you in here for a reason. This ends today. Right now. Kyle, you come to work for me. I'll give you a competitive salary. After six months, if you prove yourself, I'll reinstate your trust. I want you to be successful. I've always wanted that. This is the first time in years that you've actually seemed capable of being responsible. But I can't have you being a paid 'date,' or whatever you are. And you two can't be together. It's wrong on so many levels, it literally makes my head hurt."

Lowell responded first. "If I could just say one thing, Mr. Richards? Kyle has been nothing short of wonderful to me. I made some really big mistakes, and he's helped me turn everything around. I called the service as a last-ditch effort to save my career. He didn't know it was me who was… hiring him until he showed up at my house."

"He told me the same story."

Lowell looked at Pierce, her eyes pleading. "It's true. This has all been a show for the press. Kyle's actually really gifted at public relations. He'll be great working for your company in that capacity. Everybody loves him."

"That's part of my son's problem," Pierce said. "Everybody
does
love him. He's had it too easy—he's never worked a day in his life."

"He's been working for me," she said, "and he's amazing at winning the press over. It's not a bad thing that everyone loves him, sir. It's a gift."

Her words left me with a weird mix of emotions. Her kindness never ceased to amaze me. She saw me in a way nobody else did.

I faced my father, who was looking at me with raised eyebrows. "What?"

He crossed his arms. "You have a
gift
?"

I smiled, feeling exposed. "I guess Lowell sees the best in me."

"But you two aren't a real couple." He sounded extremely skeptical, and also as if he were waiting for an answer.

I didn't have one for him. "I'm ready to come to work for you, Dad. I just need more time. I made a promise to Lowell, and part of me acting like an adult is not going back on my promises."

Pierce inspected my face. "What's the difference with you? Is it her?" He motioned to Lowell, who was sitting perfectly still, silent and pale. "Because really, you two
can't
be together. If the press finds out that she's your stepsister, her career's over. She isn't going to choose you over her career."

Lowell opened her mouth and then shut it again.

"You shouldn't choose her over your career either," my father said. Satisfied that he'd won the argument, he sat back in his chair.

"I don't want her to give up her career for me, and I don't want this to get out." I looked at him. "I told you—I'll come to work for you, but I have to wrap things up in Los Angeles first."

My father leaned over his desk. "Eric showed me the pictures of you two from yesterday. You've been followed here. Your every move is being documented. Hell, somebody could be waiting outside my door right now." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Giving you a chance is a risk for me, Kyle. I can't have it come out that you've been a male escort and that you've been escorting your
stepsister
. That'd completely ruin me." He jerked his thumb at Lowell. "Her too. And I can tell you don't want that." He took a deep breath. "I'm truly sorry. Lowell, I'd be happy to reimburse you for what you paid Kyle. I'll give you enough to start another PR blitz. Or hire another young man."

Lowell shook her head. "You don't have to do that, Mr. Richards. I don't need your money. I'm fine."

I turned to her. "You're fine because I'm not leaving you. We're going to that premiere."

"Not if you want your trust back, you're not." My father looked at me. I must've looked stricken, because his face changed from stern to apologetic. "I'm sorry, son, but I can't risk this right now. I have too much at stake."

"Actually, I'm the one who's got—"

"It's okay, Kyle," Lowell said. "Your father's right. If he's got a big press blitz coming up, it's too risky for all of us. I don't want the public to find out how we… came together. And I don't want them finding out about our parents." She looked at me. "I'll be fine. You've done wonders for me. I'm going to be okay."

I clenched my hands into fists. "Let's talk about this outside." I turned to my father and nodded at him tightly. "Dad."

"You need to come back here tomorrow morning. You start work then," he said. "Lowell, it was a pleasure seeing you. You've grown into a mature, thoughtful young woman. Thank you for cooperating. Give Caroline my regards. Tell her I've been… thinking about her."

Lowell nodded, clearly shocked by his lack of animosity toward her mother. It was weird, but I ignored it, grabbing her elbow and dragging her out of the office. I had bigger things to deal with right now.

"You have to listen to him," she said as I stalked down the hall beside her.

"I'm an adult." I heard the anger in my own voice. "He can't tell me what to do."

She shook her head. "You need to listen to
me
then. This is your one shot. He's going to give you a position that you'll be brilliant at,
and
you'll get your trust back. That's millions of dollars we're talking about. You can't give that up for me."

I stopped, and turning, I pressed her back against the wall. Anger and sadness ripped through me as I looked at her beautiful face. "I'm not leaving you. Period. He's my father. He'll wait."

She shook her head, and although I saw sadness in her eyes, stubbornness rolled off of her in waves. "He's not going to give you another chance, Kyle. He has his launch coming up—if you cross him now, it's all over."

I leaned over her, wanting to crush my lips against hers and stop this stupid conversation. "Your premiere's next week." Unable to stop myself, I ran my lips along her jawline. "It's just a week. He'll be fine."

Her breathing deepened, and she looked at me, lips parted, responding to my touch. Our eyes locked but only for a second; she shook her head as if to shake off the heat between us.

"No," she said, her tone final, "he won't. And I can't let you lose this opportunity. Not for me."

"It's not your choice. It's mine."

She drew herself up to her full height and pulled away from me stiffly. "You should always make the right choice. Staying with me is the wrong one, and I can't accept that."

"What are you saying?" I felt stupidly, ridiculously close to tears.

She must have sensed my impending breakdown, because she seemed to calm down. She smiled weakly and patted my arm. "Let's not talk about it anymore right now. We're both upset. We'll figure it out."

"Together," I said stubbornly. For some reason, even though my arms were still around her, I felt as though I was losing her.

"Together."

I wrapped my arms tighter around her as we headed to the car, but I felt as if she was already gone.