Because of Sydney (9 page)

I dried my face then waited for her in the living room. After a few minutes the door opened and she walked in. Her shirt was tucked in, her skirt back in its proper place. It was almost as if it had never happened. The only problem was I wasn’t going to be able to forget it.

“Sorry about that.” I cleared my throat. “I realized it’s late and you have a deadline. I apologize, Miss Paige.” Using her last name reminded me this was supposed to be a professional exchange.

Her eyes focused on the floor. “Thanks for being so concerned.” The sarcastic tone was tinted with something soft.

My chest tightened.

I had screwed this up. Whether she wanted to have sex or not, it didn’t matter. I slept with a lot of women, but not ones who could cause problems for my company. And a business beat reporter could do just that. Only I hadn’t made all of that clear to her.

I should have stuck with my gut instincts and left her the hell alone, but I was feeling cocky from the deal and too many drinks. Shove a gorgeous woman in my hands, and there was only one way I was going to react. I wanted to kick myself for thinking it was ok to take her home. For thinking I could ignore who she was.

I stood and walked into the kitchen. Eden had set me up with one of her fancy one-cup coffee dispensers. I threw in a dark roast, made the first cup and then a second. I walked back toward Sydney and handed her one of the mugs.

“Here you go. Drink this. It might be a late night.”

She took the mug. “Thank you.”

“So, where do you want to start?”

She scooted back on the couch when I sat close to her. I couldn’t blame her. I had confused the hell out of both of us. But, no harm done. I stopped it before it happened. I would honor the promise I made to her and then this would be over. No need to see Sydney Paige again.

“I-I need to get my notes.” She placed her coffee on the table and walked to the door where she had left her bag. She walked back through the room, flipping a few pages in the tablet. I waited for her to get comfortable on the couch.

God, I needed that cold shower. Watching her hair fall against her cheek, all I wanted to do was pull her under me and start over where we stopped. I could yank her off this couch and carry her to my bed right now. Screw the interview. Screw my rules.

“How old were you when you sold your first property?” she asked.

I shook my head. The question jolted me back to reality.

“I was twenty-two.” I drank the coffee. I needed to kill the buzz her lips had created. She had tasted like the sun. Her skin was like warm honey under my fingertips. And her breasts were gorgeous. I had to stop thinking about her body.

“And was that one in Dallas?”

I nodded. “Yes. It was a warehouse that I converted into apartments.” I smiled. It was my first deal, and even though I didn’t walk away with much money, I walked away with enough to buy two more tracts of land. It was the start of everything for me. This was good. Talking about business kept my mind off the sweetness of her thighs.

“And why do you think you became interested in land acquisition and development?” She hadn’t lifted her eyes off the page.

I could give her the real answer or the canned speech that the public relations department liked to distribute.

“The truth?”

She finally looked at me, and I knew then how much I had fucked up. Her eyes were brimming with it. Hurt. Confusion. Anger. She was mustering together everything she had to conduct this interview. I had stripped her down on my porch, kissed her, held her, and then I dropped all of it.

“Of course the truth. I can’t print lies.” Her words were curt. I deserved it.

I slid closer to her and moved back against the cushion. “Look, let’s stop for a second. I’m sorry.”

She straightened her shoulders. “I don’t want to talk about it. I have an interview and then a story to write. It’s getting late. Can you please just answer the questions?”

I couldn’t let it go. My fingers brushed against her leg. “It’s not that I don’t want you.”

“Stop.” She held up a hand.

“Let me finish.” I stared hard. “I was seconds from this turning into a mistake. I saved us both from doing something we shouldn’t.”

“Wow. That’s your big speech? That makes it all better?” She threw her pad and pen on the floor. “I will add complete ass at apologizing to the headline.”

My forehead pinched together. “I said I’m sorry. I took it too far. I know I did.”

“Well, then if the mighty Mason Lachlan is sorry, then we’re all good.” She leaned over to reach for the pen, and I grabbed her arm.

“What? You don’t believe me?”

“Oh, I believe you thought it was a mistake. I know your type.”

“Type? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You think you can sleep with any girl you want and there’s no consequences to any of your decisions. You’re so gorgeous and sexy, women just line up to jump in your bed and you don’t give a shit about any of them.”

She stood and I could see she was shaking.

I rose from the couch. “Hold on, sweetheart. I stopped things from going too far. I’m the good guy here.”

“Are you?” She glared at me.

“Yes. If we had—if I had—”

“What? You didn’t think I could take it? Did you worry I would fall madly in love with you? Get over yourself.”

I shook my head. I had lost complete control of this conversation. “No, I never said that. I just know how these things go.”

“Because you have so much experiencing screwing random women?” Her hands flew to her hips.

“Yes—I mean no—that’s not why I stopped.”

“I wasn’t trying to be your next girlfriend or move in with you,” she seethed. “I just wanted to get laid. Ok?” Her eyes bore into mine.

I sat on the couch, throwing my hands over my head. Why in the hell were women so damn confusing?

“You just wanted to get laid?” I looked at her, trying to stop myself from smiling. I had never heard that one from a pretty mouth like hers.

“Yes. Why is that so hard to believe?” She slumped onto the couch next to me.

“I don’t know. Because you don’t seem like a one-night stand kind of girl.” I turned to face her. Her cheeks were flushed from arguing.

“What kind of girl do you think I am?”

“The kind who is determined and beautiful.” I moved a flyaway curl from her cheek. “The kind of girl who can understand business and write about it.” I moved in closer. “The kind who is strong and independent enough to move halfway across the country to follow a dream. And is so fucking sexy I had to stop myself from asking you out three times today.”

Her eyes darted to mine. “What are you talking about? The entire day you avoided me like I was a case of food poisoning.”

“Ever wonder why?” My hand slid against her throat, tracing the lines of her neck. Her pulse quickened under my fingers. I couldn’t help myself. Her skin was addictive, just like her lips.

“I thought it was because you hated reporters.”

“I do,” I growled against her ear as I gently grazed my teeth against her skin.

She pushed against my shoulder. “We can’t start this up again. I don’t know what you want.”

My free arm wrapped around her waist, nestling her against my chest. “It’s not obvious?”

Her muscles tensed. “Let’s just blame it on the tequila.” She sighed.

She was right. I needed to make one decision and stick with it. No more back and forth. No more starting and stopping. No more second-guessing. I wanted her. Plain and simple.

“This is what I know.” I tipped her chin toward my gaze. “I’m not going to be able to sleep tonight if all I can do is think about these lips.”

“Sorry to hear that. I’m not doing this again.” She untangled herself from my arms.

“Look. I didn’t know how unattached your attitude was about sleepovers. I think we might be on the same page.” I had gotten her back in my hands; I couldn’t stop a second time.

“Sleepovers?” she laughed. “That’s what you call it?”

My hand ran along her thigh, shoving her skirt up. “What do you want to call it?”

“I want to call this an interview.” She tugged on the hem, moving my hand back to my side of the couch. “I shouldn’t have let things get out of control on the balcony either. I’m sorry too.”

I could see it in her eyes. She was where I was. Her breath was heavy, her eyes were gleaming with desire. Only she was tapped into her rational side.

“Prove it,” I challenged.

“Prove what?”

“That you can sleep with me and walk out the door in the morning completely unattached.”

“What in the hell are you talking about?”

“You said that was all you wanted. Prove it.” I crushed my lips against hers, not giving her a chance to protest. I heard her purr under my tongue as she moved her mouth kissing me harder than before. It was an angry kiss. Defiant even, but it felt fucking incredible.

Her hands snaked around my neck and I moved to pick her up and carry her to my bed. “You better not stop this time,” she groaned as I laid her across the sheets.

“I swear I won’t stop until you beg me to.” I descended on her, pinning her arms over her head. She looked like a goddess, sprawled across my bed. I realized then that I might be the one who wouldn’t walk out of here unattached.

W
e had fallen asleep sometime around three. I woke up at five, Mason’s room was still dark. His arm draped across my chest. I looked at his clock. Shit!

“Mason.” I shoved against his arm.

“What?” he answered sleepily.

“I have to write my story.” I slid out from under him, my feet landing on the cool tile next to his bed.

He lunged toward me, his arm scooping me back toward his chest. “It’s early.”

I wrestled out from his strong hold. “I know¸ but my editor is in the office at eight. I only have three hours.”

I walked through the condo to grab my bag and returned to the bed with my tablet. I clicked the flat keyboard under the screen. It wasn’t my laptop, but it would work in a pinch.

Mason rubbed his eyes and propped himself on his elbow, the sheet fell off his hip. Focus, Sydney. Sex later.

“We’re really doing this now?” he asked.

“I’m going to get fired. I have to file a story about you before eight. An exclusive, one-of-a-kind story. I promised my editor I had something like that.”

“All right. What do you need to know?” He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands.

I pulled open a blank page. If I typed in quotes as he talked I could easily copy and paste them into the story. It would save time.

“Where did we leave off last night?” I scrolled through my notes.

“Oh, you want to ask me about last night?” he teased.

“No, the questions. The questions.” I had to ignore the surges pulsing through my veins. Waking up with him, all I wanted to do was pull him back under the covers.

“I think you were commenting on how I was taking over the Texas development market.”

“Oh, right.” I chewed on my bottom lip and typed in what I had recorded last night. There wasn’t much. “Ok, you were getting ready to explain to me why you chose this as your career.”