Текст книги "Playing Pretend"
Автор книги: Juliana Haygert
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Playing Pretend
by
Juliana Haygert
To my dear husband for
our 10th wedding anniversary.
Love you!
Chapter One
Charlotte
Excitement trickled through me as I parked the rental car behind the building and walked around to the front entrance.
The hot Californian night brushed my tanned skin. Excitement trickled through me. The little town buzzed with students, like me, enjoying the second to last day of spring break. A group walked past, toward the bar next door. Their voices loud and joyful, their laughter contagious.
A smile appeared on my lips. I had never experienced anything like this. I had never felt so free, so happy, so excited, and I almost hadn’t come on this trip.
My phone rang.
“Hey, girl,” I answered.
“Charlotte? Crap, I wanted to call MaryAnn,” Liana said, her words slurring.
I shook my head. For Liana to get something like calling someone wrong, she was probably pretty drunk. “I thought she was at the bonfire with you.”
“She was, but now it’s only Becca and me.”
“She’s probably out with some random guy,” I said. “Isn’t that what she does every night?”
Liana giggled. “It is, but she could have let us know so we wouldn’t worry about her.”
“All right, then call her.”
“I will. Oh, hey, have fun,” she said in a singsong tone.
“Thanks,” I said, before turning off my phone.
I slipped it inside my back pocket as I entered the bar.
Low, melodious music drifted from the ceiling. The scent of alcohol was heady in the air, and the dark and cozy atmosphere hummed with energy. On a small stage, girls, wearing not much more than bikinis, danced around poles. Drunken guys cheered and applauded each time one approached them.
With a confident gait I hadn’t had in me until six nights ago, I crossed the room, weaving through the low tables and the animated people around them, to the crowded bar. I waited for more than five minutes, until a couple moved from their stools to the exit. Hmm, fun night ahead of them.
Still smiling, I perched atop the stool, my gaze locked on the approaching bartender, who was wearing tight black slacks and a tie. Nothing more.
“What can I get for you, ma’am?” The husky tone of his voice wrapped around me as his hazel eyes consumed my soul.
Licking my lips, my gaze ran the length of his body, lingering over his taut chest and abdomen.
Jesus, so hot. “Just a martini.” I stared into his eyes as they brightened. The corner of his lip curled slightly and butterflies danced in my stomach. “For now.”
With raised eyebrows, he bowed and left to prepare my drink.
Meanwhile, I never stopped staring at him, at his hot body, at his beautiful face.
The bartender came back, placed my martini on the counter in front of me, and after stealing a quick but intense glance, walked away to serve other customers.
I exhaled a long breath and sipped from my drink, attentive to the bartender’s whereabouts, while I counted the seconds. The big neon clock on the wall read 1:57 a.m. Just three more minutes.
The bartender approached. “Can I get you anything else?”
The intensity of his stare left me breathless, but I played along. Raising a single eyebrow, I smiled. “I don’t think so.”
I peeked at the clock. One more minute.
Under the bartender’s gaze, I downed my drink, slapped a fifty on the counter, and marched out of the bar.
Giddiness propelled the butterflies in my stomach as I jogged to my car, not caring I wore a mini-denim skirt, or that I could twist my foot running in wedges.
The minute should be over by now and I had to be ready.
Barely able to hold still, I leaned against my car, arms crossed, and waited.
One minute passed.
I paced around.
Ten minutes.
I bit my nails.
Twenty minutes.
I fished my cell phone from my pocket, rested my back against the car again, and searched for the number I wanted.
“Who are you calling?”
The phone almost fell from my hands when his voice reached me. A thrilling shiver jolted down my spine.
The bartender walked from the back door toward me. He now wore a shirt, but that didn’t lessen the impact of his beauty. His soft black hair framed his hard jaw. His bangs fell over his piercing hazel eyes. His broad shoulders and chest seemed out of room inside his clothes.
I stashed my phone and offered him a wicked grin. “You.”
Without giving me time to react, the bartender walked up, bumped his body on mine, held my wrists against the car, leaned down, and found my mouth with his. I opened to him instantly. A moan came from my throat when his hard frame pressed against me, squeezing the air out of my lungs. His lips trailed down my chin, leaving a trace of fire behind. Fire that built in my chest and spread down my body.
He nibbled my ear and whispered, “Ready to go?”
“You’re late,” I chided, my hands on his chest, pushing him away and failing. I laughed as he added force and pressed tighter against me. “Mason, come on.”
His chest rumbled and he laughed in my ear. “Sorry, I can’t resist.”
“What?” I put my hands on my hips, pretending to be mad. “Just because you’re three times my size?”
“Not only that.” His tongue slid down my neck, and he bit my shoulder. “You’re too delicate. And so, so hot.”
Of course, I was delicate compared to him. The guy was over six feet, while I was five-four and so thin, I could be carried by the wind. However, when in the circle of his arms, a tornado could try to knock me out, and wouldn’t succeed.
Soon I wouldn’t be in his arms anymore.
“You were late,” I repeated in a low tone.
Mason pulled back and stared into my eyes, the intensity of his gaze making me dizzy. “I know. Sorry. It was payday.” He picked the check from his pocket and showed it to me.
I averted my gaze, not caring about his salary.
He lifted a strand of my long dark hair and twisted it around his finger. “I have a surprise though. I got tomorrow night off.”
“Why is that?” I bit my lower lip.
“And here I thought you would squeal like a girlie girl and throw yourself at me.” He ran his fingertips down my neck, making me shiver. “Or do you not want to spend the next thirty hours with me?”
I clasped my hand on his nape and pulled him to me, my mouth closing over his. I kissed him slowly, but deeply, my tongue grazing against his. I pulled back and licked his lower lip. “Does that answer your question?”
He nodded, his eyes clouded with what seemed like hunger. For me. “Let’s go?”
Thirty minutes ago. “Yes.”
* * *
Charlotte
In the tangle of sheets and legs and arms, I observed Mason as he slept, his chest slowly rising and lowering under my hand. With my finger, I traced the hills and vales and plains of his perfect physique, trying to commit it to memory so I could draw him like this later. His skin was soft and warm, just like him. My fingertip lingered on his stomach, admiring his six-pack and that V that all girls—including me—went crazy over. It would be hard to replicate such beauty on paper.
This was my first spring break as a college student. Actually, this was my first spring break away from my mother. I never thought something like this would happen. I had never acted like this before. The girls had convinced me to come on this trip, kiss a guy here and there, and have fun. However, after meeting Mason, things had happened fast.
Each time our first encounter flashed in my mind, I smiled. It had been our first night in town. The girls and I wanted to get some drinks before the bonfire at the beach, and we ended up at the bar with the hottest bartender alive. They flirted with him, but I didn’t. I wanted to, but, oh, if my mother only knew the things I dreamed about doing. Well, she would kill me if she knew where I was. She had barely approved this trip. In truth, she thought I was in Canada with Tracy, the girl she thought was my best friend.
Besides all his mischievous grins, the bartender didn’t lead the girls on, though often his eyes found mine.
I left with my friends for the bonfire, but they found hookups too quickly and I couldn’t get the bartender out of my mind. Liana had noticed how hung up I had been on him and encouraged me to go after him.
“You only live once,” she said. “Besides, nobody knows you here. You can do whatever you want. You can be whoever you want.”
Her words stirred something in me. Be whoever I wanted. I liked being me, I guess, but I could use more free time. More me time.
My mother would kill me if she found out any of this, but she was thousands of miles away, on the East Coast. No one would see me if I was careful.
With courage I didn’t know I had, I went back to the bar. When he saw me, his eyes went wide and a small smile spread over his lips. The butterflies in my belly took off.
The rest was history.
Since then, six nights ago, I had slept with Mason every night in my hotel room. Actually, we spent almost every single hour together, except for when he had to work at the bar, or when he stopped by his house, which I didn’t know where it was exactly, to change clothes.
Unfortunately, spring break was ending and I would go home tomorrow morning.
I pulled back as a pang assaulted my heart.
When my hand left his chest, Mason turned sideways, his arm reaching for me. “Come back,” he whispered, his eyes still closed.
A smile crept on my lips and I held his hand. His fingers closed around mine and he pulled me to him, under him. He rested his face in the crook of my neck, his arms tight, yet careful not to squash me under his weight.
As I ran my nails on the tribal tattoo that extended over his left shoulder blade, I peeked at the clock on the nightstand.
“It’s almost noon. I’m hungry.”
His head shook against my neck. “Not yet. Let’s stay like this all day.”
I turned my face to his and planted a soft kiss on his forehead. “I don’t know about you, but I also gotta pee.”
His tongue grazed my skin, spreading warm jolts down my neck. “Does that take your mind off it?”
I laughed. “You’re impossible.”
With a huge grin, he pulled back to look at me. “Thank you.” Then his forehead molded into a deep frown. “We’re still playing the don’t-tell-anything-about-ourselves game?”
A tight knot formed in my chest. “Sure we are.” If it were up to me, we would part ways and still not know anything relevant about each other.
“And you won’t even tell me why?”
I pulled my gaze away from him. “No.”
“Not even your last name.”
“Especially not my last name.”
“Who are you?” There was a teasing tone to his voice, but I still didn’t like the question. “Daughter of a famous actor? Or of a famous baseball player?” His eyes lit. “I know. You’re famous.”
I laughed. “Stop. You won’t find out anything.”
“But I did.” Mason rested his head on my neck again. “I know your favorite color is purple. I know you love sushi. You like to dance. You hate beer but could drink tons of martinis. You love the beach. Since you’re always doodling, I’m guessing you love to draw. I also know your friends admire you, probably because you’re way more beautiful and hot than them. And, judging by your clothes, the car you rented, and your fancy hotel room, you have tons of money.” I stiffened. “What?” He raised his head and spied into my eyes. “What did I say?”
I slipped from under his embrace and sat at the edge of the bed. “I don’t like subjects that involve money.”
“Why?”
I shrugged, stood, and searched the floor for my clothes. “People tend to make a big deal about money.”
“Money is a big deal. You shouldn’t be ashamed of having it.”
“I’m not.”
“It doesn’t look like it.”
I turned to him, my skirt in my hand. “I don’t like what comes with money.”
“You don’t like comfort?”
I shook my head. He didn’t get it and I wouldn’t waste our little time together explaining. “That’s why I don’t like talking about it. Look at us. Our last day together and we are arguing for the first time in six full days.”
With a sympathetic smile, Mason stood before me. “I didn’t mean to cause a quarrel. I’m just amused. You’re the first rich person I’ve met who doesn’t like to talk or brag about money.”
“Yeah.” I yanked my skirt on with too much force. “Ninety percent of my friends are my friends because of my money.”
He stepped closer, his eyes softening. “Well, in my defense, I was interested in you before finding out you’re rich.”
“We also aren’t friends.” I air quoted the word friends and my lips curled in a small smile.
His hands inched toward my waist. “Can we start over?”
Heaviness settled in my chest. “We don’t have time to start over.”
“Then let me make this day count.” His fingers brushed the skin under the hem of my skirt.
My resolve undoing, I nodded. “I like that idea.”
His lips met mine, leaving me breathless, and he pulled my skirt back down.
Chapter Two
Mason
I held Charlotte’s hand as we walked in the warm, white sand, looking for a spot to settle down. It was mid-afternoon, when most spring breakers had just woken up after a night of partying.
I glanced at her and smiled. Her gold bikini left almost nothing to the imagination, and the tiny skirt could have doubled as a washcloth. Too much skin and temptation exposed. I wanted to cover her body with a towel so no other guy could see how hot she was.
She smiled back, squeezing my hand. A warm breeze kicked in and brushed her long dark hair aside. Christ, she was beautiful. Too beautiful. Large green eyes, a small nose, full reddish lips, fair, smooth skin, and the perfect, tanned body. I had never hooked up with a girl so beautiful, so perfect.
I’d let her seduce me that first night because I was mad and distraught, but she easily enraptured me. For six days, I’d barely thought about the events of the previous weeks. I had healed a little with her.
However, she was leaving the next day, and I didn’t even know her last name.
We found a spot among the crowd large enough to spread a towel and open two beach chairs. I let go of Charlotte’s hand and dropped the cooler on the sand.
Charlotte slid out of her skirt and I noticed several guys—and girls—admiring her and her movements, while she was seemingly oblivious to it. Jealousy clawed at my chest.
Come on, man. This was just a hookup.
However, the past six days felt more and more like six months. If she lived in town and we saw each other often, I would have had to cut things at once before I actually fell for her. Which seemed easy to do.
Charlotte lay on the towel, and I glared at the men still staring at her before sitting down beside her.
“Is the town always like this?”
I frowned. “Like what?”
“Packed.” She gestured toward the beach. She tapped her foot to the rhythm blasting out of a nearby radio.
It was insanely full, but most people were college students like us.
Someone on my side tossed a beer to a friend, which made me thirsty. I reached for one of my own inside the cooler. “Nope. It’s usually too quiet here. The busiest times are spring break and summer.”
Sand kicked up nearby as someone raced after a soccer ball. I straightened my back, opening my mouth to complain, but the dude on my right was faster.
“What the hell?” he yelled.
I grabbed the rolling ball as a boy no older than ten ran our way, in search of his toy.
“Can I have my ball back, please?” the boy said, pointing to my arms.
“Sure,” I said, handing him the toy.
“Wait, what?” the guy on the side said, reaching for the ball. From his crossed eyes and jerky movements, he was probably tipsy. “No. This kid will just throw it again. Don’t give it to him.”
I pulled the boy to the side, out of reach from the guy. “Here. Just be more careful.”
“Will do.” The boy smiled, hugging his ball tight. “Thanks.”
I nodded. The boy ran away and the drunken guy turned to me. “If I get more sand all over me, it’s on you.”
My fists clenched. I turned to the guy. Charlotte’s hand on my arm sent a shock—a good shock—through my system and I took a deep breath. This guy wasn’t worth my irritation.
I gave him my back and faced the beautiful girl lying beside me.
A smile adorned her face.
“What?”
“You. Being kind to the kid. I like it.”
I shook my head. Well, I had almost complained too, but he was just a kid. It wasn’t his fault. I knew he hadn’t thrown the ball at us on purpose.
A few moments later, Charlotte’s friends Liana, MaryAnn, and Rebecca joined us.
It was odd to be the only male among four beautiful girls, but if it meant I could spend a few extra hours with Charlotte, then I would put up with their girlie conversation.
Liana and Becca took the chairs, and MaryAnn sat on the edge of the towel.
“So,” Becca said, her gaze scanning the crowd, “how many hot guys do we have here?”
Liana grabbed a beer out of the cooler. “Too many. The way I like it.”
I groaned. Every guy had a limit. “Could you girls not talk about guys right now?”
Charlotte laughed, her eyes closed.
“Why?” MaryAnn smiled at me. “I bet that you talk about girls all the time with your friends, and the words you use are not appropriate for the general public.”
I took a sip of my beer. “Yeah, well, I’m not with my friends. I would appreciate it if you refrained from speaking about guys at all while I’m here.”
Liana laughed. “Oh my God, those big words. Appreciate? Refrained?”
MaryAnn winked. “He’s trying to impress our gal.”
“I think she’s already impressed,” Becca said.
“Leave me out of this,” Charlotte protested without opening her eyes. She seemed so at peace, savoring the sun’s rays on her shining skin. I wanted to roll over her and lick h—
“What are we gonna talk about, then?” Liana asked.
MaryAnn finished her beer in one long gulp and stood. “I know what we’re gonna do.” She beckoned the other girls to stand. “Hot guys at four o’clock, and I think they’re alone. Let’s go over there.”
“What?” Becca eyed the group. “Just go and introduce ourselves?”
MaryAnn smiled. “Well, I was thinking more along the lines of standing close, making eye contact, and letting them come to us.”
Liana jumped up. “I’m in.”
And just like that, they weaved their way to the group—their victims for the night.
I shook my head.
“What are you smiling about?”
I turned to Charlotte and found her spying on me, her hand over her eyes, a smile of her own.
“Just amused,” I answered.
She rolled to the side. “They are quite the handful, but I love them. They are my real friends, the ones who truly get and accept me.”
Real friends. What did that mean? I didn’t ask, because I knew she wouldn’t answer. Still, I couldn’t stay quiet.
I lay down on the towel, my body turned to her. “And who is the true you?”
She rolled her eyes. “A girl. Period.” She sighed. “I’m not gonna talk about that again, and I really want to have a good last night with you, okay?”
Charlotte glided her index finger over my bare chest, stopping at the waist of my shorts.
I shivered. “Only if you let me take you back to your hotel room right now.” I reached for her, placing my hand on her neck, and leaned in. I brushed my lips over hers, and suppressed a moan. Christ.
She chuckled against my mouth. “But we just got here.”
“I don’t care about here.” I slid my lips along her jaw, and whispered in her ear, “I want you.”
Charlotte pulled my face to hers and kissed me. Her lips were soft against mine, and her taste addicting. Her tongue teased me, and I thought I would lose it, right here, in the middle of a crowded beach.
“Hey, Mason.”
Groaning, I pulled back from Charlotte, and turned to my brother. “Hey, Matt. You remember Charlotte, right?”
They had met on the second night, when Matt had come to the bar.
“Yeah. Hey.”
Charlotte waved. “Hi.”
I sat up. “What are you up to?”
“Just hanging.” Matt ran his hand through his hair. We looked alike, though Matt was two years younger and less built. For now. My little brother went to the gym almost seven days a week to, as he said, beef up. “Saw you and came to say hi.”
“Mason!” Brody appeared from behind Matt. “Man, haven’t seen you in days.” His gaze shifted to Charlotte and his eyes widened. “Okay, I see why and I’d say you’re definitely forgiven.”
“Hey, Brody, this is Charlotte.” I held her hand in mine. “Charlotte, this is Brody, my friend.”
“His best friend,” Brody said with a large grin.
“Hi, nice to meet you.” Her tone wasn’t as laid back as usual.
“You too.” Brody shook her hand, and then turned to me. “Hey, there’s going to be a party tonight at Connor’s house. They will set up a bonfire and hula dancers. Are you guys coming?”
I looked at Charlotte. I’d go if she wanted, but preferred to avoid such places, knowing who would probably be there. Besides, I wanted to take advantage of every second of my last hours with her.
“Your call. Want to go?”
She leaned close and whispered in my ear, “I think we have other plans in my hotel room.”
Smiling, I planted a quick peck on her lips. “Agreed.” I turned to the guys. “We’ll pass.”
“I see.” Brody frowned. “Good call. Tamara is probably gonna be there and I know you’ve been avoi—”
I tensed and Matt smacked Brody’s stomach with his arm. “Shut up,” my brother hissed.
Brody’s face fell. “Oh, sorry.”
Matt put his arm over Brody’s shoulders. “We’ll leave you two in peace. Later.”
They rushed away, but the damage was done. My mood had taken a sharp turn.
Charlotte’s hand rested on my arm. “It’s okay.”
I dared a peek at her, and was surprised by how gentle her expression was.
“You have a past. Everyone does. But, if you’re cheating on her with me, please don’t tell me, okay? I really don’t want to know if I’m being used like that.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “No, I’m not cheating. We broke up a couple of weeks ago.”
“Oh, okay.” Charlotte scooted closer, resting her chin on my shoulder. “Let’s forget about it. I didn’t hear anything.” She pulled back. “Unless … you’re too upset now, to … you know, be with me ag—”
I cupped her cheek and kissed her. I was upset, yes, but nothing could keep me away from her during these last few hours. I wanted her. I needed her. I showed her just how much when I deepened the kiss, threatening to break unspoken social rules of how to behave in public.
Charlotte pulled back, out of breath. “I think my bed is calling us.”
I stood and offered her my hand.
With a smile, Charlotte took it.
In that moment, it seemed she would agree to go anywhere with me, and that filled my chest with a sensation I thought I’d forgotten.
* * *
Charlotte
The only things I knew about Mason were that he was born and raised in this cute beach town, that he still lived with his parents, though he wanted to move out, and that I had met his brother.
In turn, Mason was about to find out one thing about me.
Seated on a wooden bench, I took off my sandals and put on my roller skates under Mason’s curious gaze. After we had sex—twice—we had dinner with the girls. At the restaurant, I asked him to take us to a small park where the pavement was smooth, and a little private.
So far, the place looked great. Far from the beach, which meant most students wouldn’t be here at this hour of the night, with an even walkway and several lamps that illuminated just enough.
I stood and straightened my pink tank top. It matched the rhinestones on my jean skirt, and the laces of my colorful skates.
I spun once, in place, and then smiled at Mason. He was still seated on the bench, his eyes narrowed, suspicious, his arms crossed over his green shirt. It was impossible not to notice how well that color went with his hazel eyes, tanned skin, and black hair. It also hugged his powerful shoulders and biceps. He probably worked out a lot or played sports to maintain his physique.
It didn’t matter what he did to look this hot. The next day, I would be gone and nothing would matter anymore. Shaking my head, I put some distance between us.
“So,” Mason said, and I turned to him. He nodded to the skates on my feet. “I’m adding a hobby to the list of things I know about you.”
With her own roller skates on, Liana shot up from the other bench. “It’s cute how you’re trying to figure her out, Mason.”
Mason grinned. “Am I succeeding?”
MaryAnn stood beside Liana. “Not even close.” She shot past us, gaining speed with each step.
Becca yelled, “Wait,” and then skated after MaryAnn.
“Ah, they won’t beat me,” Liana said, flashing a wicked smile.
She rushed past me, trying to catch up with the other two.
Meanwhile, I observed Mason. With the little frown between his brows, he looked intrigued, and sexy.
Mason stood and, with his hands inside his pockets, strolled toward me. “You skate a lot?”
“Not as much as I would like,” I said, surprising myself with the truth.
He halted less than a foot away, looming over me, even though I wore skates. “Busy?”
“Something like that,” I said.
His frown deepened.
“What is it?”
His eyes met mine and he shrugged. “I won’t force anything out of you, but I don’t understand why you don’t want to tell me more about you. Even if you’re a spy or daughter of a mob boss, I don’t care.”
My heart squeezed. Liana was right. It was cute how he tried to figure me out. He was cute. No, he was way more than cute. He was handsome, hot, intelligent, kind. And hot. And hotter.
I stepped closer, snaked my arms around his neck, tipped my head, and kissed his chin. Sighing, he closed his eyes and placed his hands on my waist.
“Thank you for respecting me.” I trailed kisses from his chin to the sensitive spot under his ear. His arms tightened around me and he groaned, placing a smile on my lips. I loved making him lose his cool. I loved when he put his big hands on me, grabbed me with need and want, and kissed me as if I was his life energy.
Damn, I would miss him.
Mason tilted his head to me and I closed my mouth over his. His lips were warm and soft, moving in synchrony with mine. One of his hands slid under my shirt, and I moaned when he dug his fingers into my skin. His other hand traveled up and fisted my hair, pulling my head back as his tongue left a blazing trail from my mouth to my shoulder.
I scooted closer, placing one of my legs between his, and rubbed my hips against his. I could feel his hardness against me and I moaned again.
God, if we didn’t stop now, I would let him take me right here, right now.
Reluctantly, I stepped away from him.
He reached for me. “Come here.”
Smiling, I skated away. “Come and get me.”
A full on smile took over Mason’s lips. “You’re on.” He jogged toward me, but when I giggled and increased my speed, he ran after me. “Hey, what do I get if I catch you?”
Without turning or slowing, I yelled, “Me.”
He groaned behind me and I dashed away, but not as fast as I could go.
