I joined her with a bottle of red and a couple glasses.
“So, Coral, are you gonna do it?” I asked, handing her a glass with a hefty pour.
She took a long draw on her wine. “Do what?” She settled back into her lounge chair and closed her eyes, letting the afternoon sun wash over her beautiful face.
“You know. Ride on the tour bus with us guys?”
Her eyes flew open in horror. “You guys take a bus? You don’t fly?”
I stifled my laughter. “We don’t take a bus, per se. We charter a big fancy one.”
She dropped her head back wrinkled her nose. “Well. Still. No. I couldn’t possibly go on tour with you.”
Fucking A. I couldn’t believe the Coral James sitting next to me was the same one from high school. It was just… incredible.
“We fly, too, of course. It’s just that sometimes it’s easier to take the bus when we’re going to cities that aren’t too far from each other.”
“Well that makes sense. But I’m sure my boss won’t want me to be away from the office. We have too much going on. I just can’t,” she said, looking right at me for emphasis.
Damn. I was surprised by the disappointment that washed over me. Did I really want her along? Was I fucking crazy?
But what had I expected? Of course she wouldn’t want to be stuck in what was essentially a rolling hotel room with three guys she probably hated.
I leaned closer to her. “Coral. I think it’s a good thing you’re on board with us.”
“No way,” she said, laughing. “Are you kidding?”
“I… I’m not always the easiest person to work with. Or even to be around. It’s the stress. The constant pressure to keep producing. Sometimes, I feel like it’s strangling me.”
Listening, she set her wine glass down.
She nodded slowly. “I can see that. I can’t imagine what it would be like.”
Fuck. Why had I told her that? I didn’t need to be baring my soul to anyone, much less someone I hardly knew.
What was I saying? I didn’t know her at all.
I cleared my throat and stood, my gaze hovering over the terra cotta rooftops below and downtown LA in the distance.
“C’mon. Let’s go for a swim.”
I dropped my jeans to the ground and dove in.
Chapter 18
CORAL
Holy shit. Stone McIntyre didn’t wear underwear.
He was a free-baller, as they say. And how did I know this? He’d just dropped trou and dove into the pool we were sitting next to.
He was naked.
As in not a stitch of clothing. And I’d seen the package. My client’s package.
I’d not started the day, or even the week, thinking I might ever see one of my clients naked. It was just not something that happened in my field.
If you were a doctor, you might see your patients naked.
If you were a masseuse, you might see your clients naked.
If you managed a gym, you might see your members naked.
Not so much in PR.
And now I was supposed to join him? In the water? Without a bathing suit?
Stone broke the surface with a holler after swimming the entire length of the pool underwater.
“Damn, this feels great. C’mon in, Coral!” He dove back under and did a handstand.
Oh my god. I looked down into my wine glass, wishing I could unsee, um… that. Stone had flipped to his back, gently swooshing his hands to stay afloat. And he was moving toward the edge of the pool closest to me.
With his, you know, dick bobbing in the water.
Coral, meet Stone’s penis…
I supposed when working with rock stars, this sort of thing was par for the course. I should have been prepared. I knew they were kind of hedonistic, so it had been just a matter of time until I was faced with some sort of indiscretion.
I just hadn’t expected it so soon.
And I was supposed to ride in a tour bus with these guys?
Cripes, if they weren’t used to having a woman on board, god knew how they behaved in an enclosed space.
“Hey. Are you coming in?” Stone asked.
I dared a peek in his direction and was relieved to see he was no longer on his back on the surface of the water. He was holding on to the edge of the pool, his muscular shoulders and tattooed arms glistening wet, his light hair darkened by the water and slicked back from his forehead to show off his perfect bone structure.
Holy shit.
“Oh, I think I’ll pass,” I said cheerfully.
I hoped he hadn’t noticed I’d spilled red wine down my white blouse.
“Come on. I won’t look while you jump in. The pool’s heated. It’s amazing.” True to his word, he turned from me and swam to the other side of the pool where he focused on the view.
Well, shit. I looked around. No one else was home. But did I really want to skinny dip with Stone McIntyre?
No, I did not. But I could paddle around in my underwear. For just a few minutes. Then I’d head home.
“All right. Keep looking away.” I kicked off my shoes, let my skirt fall to the ground, and tossed my blouse on the lounge chair.
Damn. He wasn’t lying. The water was incredible.
“Wow,” I yelled when I surfaced.
“What are you wearing?” he asked, turning around.
“My bra and panties. You have a problem with that?”
He laughed and splashed me. “Nah. That’s smart. I probably would have kept my boxers on… if I’d remembered to wear any.” He laughed and did a somersault.
His playfulness put me at ease. It was incredible to see this side of him when the tabloids only showed him fighting and being carted off in handcuffs. Well, and screaming into the mic at stadium concerts with tens of thousands of fans watching.
I swam to the center of the pool and treaded water. As entertaining as he was, I wanted to keep a safe distance. It wouldn’t do for him to get the wrong idea.
Although Hugh had gotten the wrong idea the day before, and it sure as hell had turned out fun.
“The sun’s going down. Check it out,” Stone said, resting his arms on the edge of the pool.
I paddled up next to him and propped my own elbows on the pool’s edge.
“Wow. So beautiful.”
Holy crap. Just yesterday I’d been transported back to my life as an awkward teenager by Stone’s thoughtless words, and now here I was, swimming with him and watching the sunset.
And thinking maybe he wasn’t the biggest asshole in the universe.
But the jury was still out.
He looked my way. “It is beautiful. Like you,” he said, reaching to move a strand of hair from my forehead.
Oh god.
And just like that, his lips were on mine, soft and gentle at first, and then hard and demanding, just like the way he lived his life. With one elbow propped on the edge of the pool, he wove his fingers through my wet hair enough to pull me to him.
And he suddenly stopped, leaning his forehead against mine in an unexpectedly intimate gesture.
No.
I had to go. Like get the hell out of the pool and get the hell out of this house. I’d kissed Hugh the day before, and now Stone. What would they think of me?
I’m sure they had women throwing themselves at them all the time. Surely, they could easily find someone willing and able to serve their needs.