God, she wanted his mouth on her breasts, his hands between her thighs. She arched her back, offering him more. She gasped when his hot mouth found her neck, kissing, nuzzling, while his callused thumb moved back and forth, upward over the silk and lace, teasing, promising. . . .
“Addison?” The whiskey-rough sound of her name on his lips washed over her like a caress, a question, and a plea at the same time.
Addison tried to think, to grasp on to reason. Reid was little more than a stranger, a possible client. She simply didn’t do this sort of thing, but spontaneity was beginning to have its perks.
“Reid . . .” Her husky voice was an invitation, and he accepted with the deft unclasping of her bra. The rest of her sentence dissolved into a moan when he cupped one breast, rubbing his thumb over her eager nipple. Any remaining shreds of resistance were smothered by a bone-melting, mind-blowing kiss.
Strong, sure fingers unsnapped her jeans and slid the zipper down. He parted the denim and slipped his hand inside the gap, toying with the lace of her thong. Her belly quivered and she arched her hips, urging him to pull her pants downward. Still kissing her, he started to tug.
And then he stopped.
It took a moment for Addison’s sex-addled brain to register that Reid had gone very still. He removed his hand from her pants and the only sound in the room was their heavy breathing. Addison frowned and in a panic wondered what she’d done to turn him off like a faucet. Wait. . . . Oh God . . . Okay, no, she’d had a bikini wax.
“R-Reid?”
She heard his audible swallow. “Hey, I’m sorry. I let things get, um, out of control.”
Really? Because she’d been the one who had almost ripped his shirt off and then kissed him. Her heart started to thump. She didn’t like where this was going.
“It was wrong of me to take advantage of you.”
“Advantage of me?”
Reid ran a hand down his face. “Yeah. Look, when my sister broke up with her boyfriend, not the guy she’s marrying, but another guy she was serious with . . . she . . .”
When he paused Addison urged him on. “She?”
“Well, went a little wild for a minute. You know, to get over him.”
“So you think that’s what I was doing? Using you?”
“Maybe. I don’t know, but I don’t want to be that guy.”
“Oh.” Mortification started at her toes and worked its way up to her cheeks. What did she say now? Thanks? Embarrassment didn’t even begin to cover what she was feeling, and even though she supposed—no, knew—that he was just being a really good guy, she was humiliated, and it transformed into being super-pissed. Not that she was about to let him know it. Digging deep for a steady voice she said, “Well, then, I’m starving. Let’s eat those sandwiches. Whadayasay?” She kept her tone light and forced a smile.
“Okay, sure,” he answered a bit uncertainly, but she felt the sudden tenseness in his shoulders relax just a little bit. “Look, if you’d rather that I’d leave . . .”
“No,” Addison protested, trying to ignore her state of undress and the humiliation in her cheeks. “You’re right. I was just, you know, acting out because of, you know, my situation. You just happened to be the guy within reach. Lucky for me you’re a gentleman. Must be that Southern upbringing.” God, she was talking way too much.
“I’ll take that beer now.”
“Sure,” Addison replied, wanting so badly to zip up her pants. “You’re kind of blocking my way,” she said, and swallowed hard when he had to lean and brace his arm across her in order to get the leverage to push up off of the sofa. She got an eyeful of his very fine chest before he put a knee on the cushion and stood up. When he turned his back Addison quickly zipped up and fastened her jeans before sitting up. He turned back around just in time to see her fumbling with her bra, without any success. Great . . .
“Need some help?” he asked uncertainly.
“No!” she answered more sharply than intended, but damned if she couldn’t get the bra to hook to save her life.
“Stand up,” Reid gently requested, and for some reason it brought tears to her eyes. Maybe he was right. Maybe acting out was what she was doing. She obeyed and turned around only so he wouldn’t see the emotion threatening to spill down her cheeks. When he slid his hands beneath her sweater she inhaled sharply and she hoped he didn’t notice. His fingers brushed against her skin, and damned if her body didn’t betray her with goose bumps. She could feel his warm breath on her neck and oh, how she wanted to tilt her head to the side and have him kiss her neck, cup her breasts while she leaned back against him.
But she’d suffered enough humiliation for one night, and so when he hooked her bra she tugged her sweater back into place and walked toward the kitchen, pretending that the past fifteen minutes of hot making out never happened. She really wanted him to leave, but pride dictated otherwise.
Addison brought Reid a Kentucky Ale and herself a bottle of water. He reached into the paper bag, pulled out a sandwich and looked at the wrapper. “I think this one is light mayo and mustard, no onion,” he said. If she wasn’t mistaken he felt a bit unnerved as well.
“Thanks,” Addison said with careful politeness. She put the bottle of beer in front of him, trying really hard not to notice the three missing buttons on his shirt and his half-exposed chest. She removed the sandwich from the wrapper and started eating without really tasting it. “Oh, this is good.” Addison nodded with fake appreciation and took another bite. “Mmm. Really good.”
Reid nodded, chewing.
Addison chatted while they ate, and after they were finished she walked him to the door. After she closed the door she tried to remember the conversation but failed. She frowned, thinking it had something to do with baseball and one-hit wonders. She really didn’t know. “Wow . . .” She put a hand to her mouth and shook her head, not really sure if she should laugh or cry.
She walked on wooden legs into the bedroom, retrieved her toiletries from her smallest suitcase, and headed to the bathroom to get ready for bed. As she brushed her teeth she looked at herself in the mirror and shook her head, wondering what in the world had gotten into her. Was Reid right? Was she getting over her broken engagement by going wild?
She spit into the sink, rinsed her mouth, and sighed. She didn’t really know, but one thing was for certain: Rebound or not, in her twenty-eight years of living, no other kiss had ever made her melt the way Reid’s did.
After locating a soft cotton sleep shirt Addison slipped beneath the covers, hoping to fall right to sleep. Of course, when she closed her eyes all she could see was Reid’s face. Pissed, she punched the pillow, tossed and turned for a while before groaning. Sleep wasn’t going to happen. She leaned over and reached for the remote, wondering if her life could possibly get any crazier. With a sigh, she turned on the television, hoping to find a boring movie that would lull her to sleep.
When the screen came to life Addison gasped. There she was, embracing Rick Ruleman. She turned up the volume and listened with growing horror while some “reporter” speculated whether the rumor was true that Addison Monroe, daughter of finance guru Melinda Monroe, was having an affair with her ex-fiancé’s father, Rick Ruleman, promptly ending her engagement. Garret, who said he was headlining a new reality show about his life called House Rules, declined comment while being hounded with questions by paparazzi but pulled a sad face that hinted that the rumor was true. Rick Ruleman was unavailable for comment, as was his publicist, who was rumored to have been fired. Addison Monroe was also missing in action, leading to further speculation that she and Rick were hiding out together.