In His Sleep (2 page)

No wait. That was her. Hot and wet.

He laced his fingers around her wrist. “Really. I’m flattered but not interested. Okay?”

She took in a deep breath and then let out a long and heavy sigh. She had to get past her desire to fuck the man until he begged for mercy and convince him to let her take his picture. And she had to get her nipples under control, not to mention her overactive brain. “You’re near perfect.”

He even had a slight dimple when he smiled.

She managed to retrieve one of her business cards without dropping all the files in her hand. “Meet me in my room and let me take a few pictures.” She jotted down a time and her room number, and then boldly shoved it his pant pocket. Her hand lingered there a bit too long, causing a slight increase in the bulge in his pants.

She inched her fingers closer to the ever-growing package that needed unwrapping.

He jerked, buttoning his coat and folding his arms across his chest. “Hey,” he said gawking at her as if she’d just assaulted him. Well, in a way, she had. But by the way, his pants fit a little tighter in the crotch...well, she figured he enjoyed it, too.

“I’ll see you later.” She reached up and patted his shoulder. The man had to be perfect. Perfectly dangerous.

“God, I hope he shows up,” she mumbled as she headed for the hotel elevators. If she couldn’t actually get him to model for him and save her ass, maybe she could fuck him every way imaginable.

* * * *

Chad Gregory watched Angie’s hips swing back and forth. She didn’t strut, just glided across the room like a set of pink pearls sliding off a woman’s neck. It had taken every ounce of control he had not to show how turned on he’d been by her blatant flirting and fondling.

Okay. Maybe not fondling. Her fingers did brush up against his cock when she shoved her hand in his pocket, but he really didn’t think she’d done that on purpose.

Then again, she was trying to pick him up, so maybe she had. And her tight little pink nipples were practically popping through her shirt.

“Damn, she’s hot,” Ned said. “And she wants you.”

“She doesn’t want me. I’m not sure what she wants.”

“She wants to get fucked good and hard. I think you should follow her up to her room. I would, but-” Ned held up his left hand, showing off the gold band on his ring finger. “Did I tell you Cindy’s pregnant? I’ve got to be good from now on, you know.”

“Only a half a dozen times.” Chad slapped Ned’s back wondering what kind of game Angie was really playing. Most professional photographers had models lined up before a shoot, and they didn’t normally go and recruit strangers in a bar. Not that he knew any photographers, just an educated guess on his part.

However, the woman gave new meaning to sexy. She wasn’t over dressed but didn’t look dressed down either. Not too tall, slender at the waist, rounded tits that fit her body and a beautiful bronzed complexion that matched her long flowing light brown hair.

“I still have a stash of condoms,” Ned offered.

“So much for being good.” Chad watched Angie by the elevators. She glanced his way a couple of times, pushing her hair behind her ear with her fingers, her other hand holding a bunch of papers across her chest. Part of him, the growing part, wanted to go find out what she had to offer.

“I just kept them for nostalgic purposes. Really. I’ve turned over a new leaf. I mean, really. If I wanted that Angie chick, I’d go get her.”

“Then go get her,” Chad said.

“She didn’t proposition me, man. So she’s got some picture-taking, underwear fetish. That sounds really hot. And look at her. She looks like a great piece of ass. Besides, it’s one night. No biggie. Go fuck the girl. She wants it.”

“Not in the mood,” he said, even though his cock seemed to have other plans for the evening. “You should go call your wife.”

“You need to get laid.”

“No, I don’t.” Chad headed back to the bar for one more beer to help him relax and forget about the hot photographer offering to spread her legs and let him fill her over and over again.

He wished he could have gotten out of going to this stupid seminar, but his boss had demanded he attend and that required him to spend a few nights in a hotel. Alone. Not good. At least back home, he had his sister and a few nice neighbors to help with his little problem.

Not everyone would be as understanding as old man Henderson when he’d caught Chad watering the plants in his front yard at two in the morning, in the buff. “How about a Bud,” he said to the bartender. Thank God Mr. Henderson called his sister and not the cops.

“Are you going to pose for the lady?” The bartender snickered like a kid about to lose his virginity in the back of an old Chevy. “And do you really think that’s all she wants?”

“I’m sure that’s all she wants, but no, I’m not posing for her.” Chad reached in his pocket, pulled out a five, and tossed it to the bar. He glanced at his watch and sighed. Only eleven. Still seven hours before he had to get up, do the morning breakfast talk, and then drink a million cups of coffee. He’d never make it two nights in a hotel without making an ass of himself.

“If she asked me to, I’d do it in heartbeat. She could fuck me anyway she liked.”

“I’m sure you would,” Chad said, his stomach soured. Why would such a beautiful and seemingly intelligent woman go around proposition men under the pretense of being a photographer? Some of the possibilities made him shudder, but mostly he worried about the woman. Maybe he should go check on her.

Once in the elevator, he pulled out Angie’s card and stared at the writing on the back.
Midnight. Room 312.
“Shit,” he muttered. Her room was only two doors down from his. And was she crazy? He could be some crazed psycho for all she knew.

When the doors opened, he stepped into the hallway and headed toward his room, determined that this woman was not his problem. He slowed to a near stop just outside her door but forced himself to keep going. Once in front of his room, he pulled out his plastic key. No way would he pose for her, but thoughts of being naked with her pranced around in his head.

Her door opened, and some guy stepped from her room with a smug smile. “Thanks Angie.” The guy took her hand and kissed it. “But you really don’t need to see anyone else but me. Besides, we’ve worked together before.”

“Jose, it’s not that you’re not like the best in the biz. It’s just that I need that All-American-boy-next-door look for this shoot. You just don’t fit the bill, babe. But we still need to finish the Haggen layout.”

Chad pushed back his door but couldn’t bring himself to go into his room. The blood in his veins raced around in his body like wild bulls.

“I can be whatever you need, hon,” Jose shot back. “I can be blond by morning.”

“Don’t you dare. That would just mess up the other shoot. Either way, you’ll be working.” She leaned into Jose and rubbed her ruby lips against his stubbly face.

“Well, you know how to reach me,” Jose said.

While it was obvious that Jose posed no threat to Angie and that maybe she was a legit photographer looking for a model for some reason. It concerned him that other men might be coming up to her room. A woman, alone in a hotel, taking pictures of half-naked men, yeah, that had disaster written all over it.

He jogged down the hallway. “I shouldn’t butt into you business,” he said catching her attention. “But don’t you think asking a strange man to your room to take pictures of them in the nude is asking for trouble? Especially since you are alone?”

“They wear underwear.” Slowly, she inched her way toward him. A slight smile spread across her lips. “So, are you next?”

“Next? Me?” The orange smell coming from her supple body smacked him senseless. His breath labored, and he didn’t think he’d be able to string two words together. “I don’t think so.”

“You’re here, might as well show me your tightie-whities.”

“Boxers,” he mumbled, feeling the effects of his alcohol consumption. “I’m flattered, but I was just going to my room to go to bed.” He nodded at the open door. “See. My room.”

“Yeah, I see.” Once again, she wrapped her fingers around his arm. “Nice muscle tone.”

“Thanks.”

He felt like a piece of meat as she tilted her head this way and that way, giving him the once over. But he liked the way her eyes mentally undressed him. The way she admired him.

All of him.

“Great bones, too.”

“Huh?” He clasped his hands in front of his erection.

She cupped his face. “Cheekbones. Great cheekbones.”

“Oh,” he managed. All the blood in his body raced to his cock. It pulsed in perfect unison with his heartbeat. Strong and steady.

“Just a few pictures. It won’t hurt.”

“I can’t. I’ve got an early meeting, and I’m really not interested. Not my thing, you know.” One would never know how truly gifted he was with the English language by the babble that came out of his mouth.

“I really just want to take your picture. That’s all. I’m kind of in a bind with my boss.” She sighed, sending a ripple of desire to every limb on his body.

“I wish I could help you out, but it’s not my thing.”

“Too bad,” she said. “I’ve got a couple more guys coming up, so if you will excuse me.” She turned and slinked back down the hall. Her rounded ass moved in perfect unison with the rest of her tantalizing hips. He wanted to hold those hips and pound himself into her hot, wet pussy until her body crumpled in sheer pleasure.

“I’m here if you change your mind.” And then she stepped back into her room and closed the door.

“Damn.” He stumbled into his room with a full erection. The loud clank of metal hitting metal echoed in his ears but did nothing to ease the intense lust boiling in his veins. He’d like nothing more than to take Angie into his arms, ram his tongue deep into her mouth, and taste ever inch of her creamy skin. He wasn’t afraid of being with a woman. Sex he could handle. It was what usually happened after that was a different story all together.

Being in a hotel only made his problem worse. He’d learned as a child, new surroundings increased his anxiety level, making it more likely he’d end up out in the hall, in his boxers, for the world to see. Worse part? He wouldn’t even know he’d been wandering the halls because he’d be sound asleep.

Chapter Two

Angie leaned up against the door and clutched her breasts. She squeezed them, and then rubbed her thumb across her taught nipple. She didn’t want to take his picture; she wanted him to fuck her until she couldn’t stand.

But since that wasn’t going to happen, she released the twins and snagged her boy-shorts from the bed, and then padded to the bathroom. She didn’t have time to deal with a hot hunk who didn’t want to give her the time of day.

Robert Winds, dickhead and owner of Men’s Unlimited, products for the men of today, demanded he be present for the shoot. Like the CEO of this company knew anything about photography. Besides, she wasn’t used to the client being underfoot, scrutinizing her every move. She needed the freedom to allow her creative side to take charge. She was at her best when she could be barefoot and carefree.

“Eddy,” she said to the mirror, wagging her toothbrush at herself. “Thanks for leaving me high and dry, yet once again.” Well, she wasn’t dry, but that had nothing to do with Eddy.

Why Robert had asked for Eddy was beyond her. Okay, so at one time he was the most sought after male model in the United States. He acted like the hometown boy, and Angie had fallen for it hook, line, and sinker. Once upon a time, she’d thought she had it all. The perfect job and the perfect husband. Not. Asshole screwed half the female population, and in their bed, including her maid of honor.

Honor-smonor. The man put the
in
in front of the
in
decent.

After brushing her teeth, she slipped into her comfortable sweats and tried to forget about Eddy and the problems he’d created. Kenny, her boss, had told her if she couldn’t make Robert happy, then she’d be flying solo. Eddy made Robert happy and this was her last chance to prove she’d moved beyond the mistakes of her past and turned a new leaf. Damn, she liked her job. She liked having a steady income and knowing she’d always have something, or someone, to shoot.

She jumped between the sheets and let her body relax into the soft bed. Visions of Mr. Perfect danced in her head as she let her mind drift into dreamland. That was, until something jolted her from a peaceful dream. She shot upright, gasping. Her body beaded with perspiration. She rubbed her eyes, wondering what dream danced in her imagination. Probably her boss firing her by the way her heart pounded against her ribs.

Her throat dried up like the Sierra desert. She reached for the bottle next to the bed, lifted it to her lips, but got nothing. “Damn.”

She chucked it to the floor, threw back the sheets and got out of bed. No way would she drink tap water and that meant a trip down the hallway to get bottled.

After finding her purse, she creaked open the door. There stood Mr. Perfect. In his perfect boxers. She swallowed, trying not to salivate too much. Amazing, her throat was no longer scratchy.