The first touch of her tongue against him was like dropping a lit match onto dry kindling, both of them turning needy and hungry. He stepped her back, so her car could give them a bracing surface. Her legs parted, and he settled between them. One of her legs slid up the side of his, and he grasped her limb under the knee. It was rude, and they were in a public place, albeit a deserted public place, but he anchored that leg against his hip, the better to keep her open and available to him.
His other hand slid up her side, under the hem of her shirt, and finally, finally, after months, he rediscovered the joy of her more intimate skin against his. He rubbed his thumb over the small of her back and she made a soft sound into his mouth. She made another noise when he found the clasp of her bra and plucked at it. One hook released. Then another. He slid his forefinger and thumb under the fabric and—
A car horn had them parting, the noise the equivalent of a bucket of cold water thrown over them. He stepped back and she huffed a small laugh. “That escalated quickly.”
He winced and resisted the urge to adjust himself. That would be crass. More crass than making out in public? Possibly. “Tell me about it.”
She blew out a breath, the tendrils against her cheeks vibrating. “I gotta go, or I’ll be late for this meeting.”
He almost missed her next words because she reached behind her to secure her bra clasp, arching her back.
“Keep an eye out for that contract.”
The contract. Business. Right. He dragged his gaze away from her round breasts. “Will do.”
She scowled at him. “Stop grinning. I could one-eighty on the sex again by the next time we meet.”
“But you’d follow through on the business side,” he pointed out. “Which means I’d see you, even if I didn’t get to kiss you, and I like seeing you too.”
She shook her head. “That Lima Charm thing isn’t a joke, is it.”
She was getting inside her car, so she missed his smile momentarily slipping. It was back in place by the time she rolled down her window. “I’ll be in touch.”
He tapped the corner of his mouth. “You may want to check your lipstick before you go to your meeting.”
Instead of looking in the mirror, she smirked. “You may want to do the same. You got some sparkle on ya there.”
He examined his finger, which did indeed have some pink glittery residue. His smile grew. “I’ll see you soon, Rhiannon.”
She peered up at him. “Rhi.”
He’d call her whatever she wanted, and he couldn’t deny that he liked the intimacy of a nickname. “See you soon, Rhi.”
Chapter Twelve
It’s okay to forgive him and trust him a little, but be careful.
Rhiannon ran her thumb over her phone screen in her pocket as the hotel’s elevator took her up seventy floors to the rooftop bar, Katrina’s text burning a hole in her pocket. Katrina was distracted by her new kitten, but she had taken the time to weigh in on this whole campaign when they’d video chatted on Monday, after Rhiannon had met with Samson.
While her best friend had been happy Rhiannon had gotten her closure, she’d been concerned about this new development, even without Rhiannon breathing a word about his butt. Or that kiss.
I don’t want you hurt again, Katrina had fretted.
Rhiannon had reassured her she wouldn’t make that mistake again anytime soon. Why, she’d barely obsessed over how good that kiss had been, pressed up against her car. Barely.
And it had been a stupendous kiss. She wanted more. She’d get more. All with her feelings in check.
Rhiannon stepped out of the elevator and zipped up her hoodie. It was her favorite, the cerulean one that hugged all her curves tight. They might be filming this on her phone, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t look great.
The stern bouncer checked her ID and allowed her to pass through the hallway to the open rooftop. It was fairly quiet, given that it was a Wednesday. Suzie had made arrangements beforehand, and the hotel was accustomed to various parties using it for a backdrop. The establishment had set up a prominent sign that filming would be taking place and patrons might be on camera.
It took her about three seconds to find Samson’s huge frame leaning against a railing. It was good that he had his head turned in profile, looking out at the twinkling city lights. That gave her a chance to at least try to suppress the little jump of excitement in her belly before he saw her.
She crossed over to him, passing the cabanas and Ping-Pong tables. This rooftop bar she’d chosen was a cool combo of sophisticated and kitsch. Most importantly, though, it had one of the most stunning views of downtown L.A.
Samson spotted her when she was about four feet away, and his beaming grin almost made her stumble. He was so clearly happy to see her. That had been the first thing she’d liked about him, that night in Cayucos. In a world that played it cool and cynical, his obvious interest had been a breath of fresh air.
Be careful.
“Hey,” he said, and waved the waitress down. He’d dressed casually in jeans and a light sweater, the knit clinging to his biceps.
Rhiannon rested her elbow on the railing and looked out over the city, the distance all the way down dizzying. Fondness for her adopted hometown lifted her mood. Weeknight or not, the never-ending traffic was bustling. “Hi. Did you have any trouble finding the place?”
“Nah, I walked.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “Walked?”
A dimple popped into his cheek. “Yes, I walked. It was barely a mile, it would have taken me longer to hitch a ride.”
“Weird.”
“No one in this city likes to walk. I miss it.”
“No one in this city likes to walk because you could get hit by a car. But I’m glad you were able to make it in one piece.”
“Here you go,” the server interrupted them and handed Rhiannon a drink before walking away with a full tray for other customers.
Rhiannon lifted the glass of pink liquid. “You ordered for me?” No one had ordered for her in a very long time, save for Lakshmi.
“Wasn’t hard to guess what you’d like. You always get the same thing.” He frowned. “Was I wrong? Do you want something else?” He was already raising his hand, and she shook her head.
“No, I do always get the same thing.”
“I didn’t expect that. Wouldn’t have pegged you as a creature of habit.”
“I’m not, but I am efficient. I was told a long time ago that staring at a menu and dithering over what you want to order is a sign of weakness.” When she’d first started out, her mentor had told her to pick a signature drink and be done with it, so as not to waste a chance to talk about business. Back then, it had been a gin and tonic, clear and boring.
When she’d started Crush, she’d felt free to order the splash of cranberry juice, tinting the drink pink.
“A sign of weakness?” He stared at her, baffled. “What an odd thing to consider a sign of weakness.”
Lord, if he only knew. Sometimes she felt like her whole life was navigating what was weak and what was strong and always ending up confused and unsure. She nodded at his drink, what looked like a Coke, the same thing he’d ordered the first time they met. “You don’t drink alcohol.” He wasn’t the only one who was observant.