MisMatch (A Humorous Contemporary Romance) (11 page)

She exhaled. “Maybe this was a mistake. I
don’t think I can represent you. Because I can almost guaranteed
that this”—she pointed between the two of them—“will get in the
way.”

He shot his hand out and took hold of her
arm. “Okay. I hear you. But just come and see my work. If you’re
not interested in working with me, I understand. But look at my
work first. And remember we have a contract.” It didn't matter how
attracted to her he was, he'd promised to help Samson move his
career forward. His little brother could use a break for sure, and
Jessica Stanton was the one to give it to him. For that, Eli could
ignore their attraction.

She stared down at his hand, and the two of
them remained locked in that frozen pose. Eventually, Eli let her
go and took a large step backward. “Sorry. Right this way.”

He led her down the hallway to the large,
open studio. Suddenly, he worried whether he should be covered in
paint. If he'd been Samson and had been working, shouldn't there be
paint everywhere? Luckily she didn’t seem to notice, because
immediately, she gasped.

“Your work is extraordinary.” With brisk
steps, she found one of Eli's personal favorites, a dark painting
with bold lines of a woman's profile. There was just enough of a
hint of her to see that she was beautiful, but not enough to be
able to recognize her. Blood smeared her cheek.

Eli knew it was their mother, but like hell
he was going to tell Jessica.

“God, this is stunning. Who's the
model?”

Eli smiled, trying to think of something to
say. “I never reveal my muses.” Great, now that sounded cliché.

But she nodded absently as she'd already
moved on to the next painting. The canvas, with smearing bold
colors splattered every which way was Eli's least favorite painting
of his brother’s. It reminded him too much of what an acid trip
must be like. A constant reminder of how he'd almost lost his
twin.

She wrinkled her nose. “I hope you don’t
take it personally, but I'm not a huge fan of this one.”

“Fine by me. It takes a lot to offend me.”
At least that was the truth. Since he'd been clean, nothing
bothered Samson these days. He was perpetually high on life. Maybe
it was time to cut him some slack. But as much as Eli would love
to, it didn’t make sense to ease up on someone he loved.

Jessica wandered around, examining each
painting. She paused at one of the exhibition pieces. “This is
amazing. Literally amazing. I don't know how you do this.” She
flushed. “Never mind. I do know how you do this. I just uh...”

Her voice trailed off, and Eli coughed out a
laugh. “What’s the matter? You’re not a fan of my performance
art?”

“Oh, I’m a fan. It’s riveting and evocative.
I just prefer these quieter ones.” She moved excitedly from one
painting to another. “Oh, Samson, your work is exquisite.” She
moved briskly from piece to piece, only pausing to lean in and
examine a few. “Honestly, I'd heard of your work, and I’ve
obviously seen how you make some of this, but this is amazing. You
should have no problem getting a gallery opening.”

Eli coughed. Pride welled in his chest. He
wasn't responsible for his brother's masterpieces, but he knew what
Samson had battled to accomplish them. If Jessica could get Samson
a big gallery opening, he'd be a household name in no time. “I'm
glad you like them.”

“I more than like them. These are raw. I
like it. They need a specific clientele though. I might have the
contacts to help, but you never know.”

“From what I’ve heard about you, you have
the contacts I'm looking for.”

She stalked toward him slowly. She looked
like a fairy on a mission with her blue-streaked hair. “Can I ask
you a question?”

She paused right in front of him, and he had
to fight the instant temptation to inhale. If he did, he'd smell
that tempting perfume. Then he'd think about the last time he
smelled her perfume and what had happened as a result. Then he'd
definitely kiss her and do all manner of inappropriate things with
her. She was going to be Samson's agent. For now, he had to keep
his pants on.

Clearing his throat, Eli leaned away from
Jessica as much as he could. “Shoot. Ask me whatever you want.”
As long as it's not to kiss you. Or to fuck you.
Then I'm good.

“I uh...” Her voice trailed off as she
mirrored his action and cleared her throat. “I want to see the
paintings from the exhibitions. The orgasm paintings as someone
called them. Will you be putting those on display as well? If
you’ll let me, I'd like to see them.”

Eli's cock stood at attention. She wanted to
see Samson’s personal collection. The orgasm paintings. Geez. He
couldn't show her those.

He shook his head. “No. I don’t think it's a
good idea.”

“I get it. But look, we can both be
professionals. I won’t jump your bones. I promise.”

He grinned. “Those images are intense. I
also don't want to get you all hot and bothered.”

“I'm a professional, Samson. I want to see
them. I promise you, those will be your real sellers, despite what
uptight Middle America will tell you. Where are they?”

He frowned. “They're upstairs, but—”

She twirled away toward the elevator. She
paused with a hand on the iron gate and pulled it back. “You
coming, Samson?”

“Jessica, I don’t think that’s a good
idea.”

“One way or another. I want to see those
paintings. Either I’ll see them now, and you can put your sensitive
artist sensibilities away, or I’ll see them when we do prints and
display, and that would really be awkward. At least I know I'm not
one of your…subjects.”

No, she certainly wasn't. But if by chance
she'd met Samson instead of him, she would have been.

“Come on, Samson, show me your private
collection.”

As the doors of the elevator closed, Eli
sucked in a breath. All he had to do was remember to breathe. How
hard could that be? It’s not like Jessica sucked the air out of the
room physically.

“Relax.” She smiled. “I’ll only be a minute.
I just want to see your other work. Then we can get to business. I
need to figure out a gallery opening with the right clientele. I
need to get you some high-profile buyers, and lucky for you, I have
one or two in my contacts. Then we PR and market the hell out of
you. But I need to see the work. All of it. You can’t hide part of
yourself from me. It won’t work if you expect me to sell you. The
two of us are going to need to be closer than this.” She twined her
index and middle finger together.

Oh, shit.
Eli
recognized the compulsion to do something stupid, but he couldn’t
do anything to stop the inevitable pull. Or maybe he and Samson had
this in common too—the magnetic pull toward utter and total
destruction.

Eli stepped in close behind her and swept an
arm around her waist. Her head rolled back and lay on his shoulder.
“You know this is all kinds of a bad idea right? Like all kinds of
a walk-of-shame bad.”

He inhaled deeply. Right now he didn’t give
a shit. He wanted her. And just once he wanted to fall into
oblivion instead of doing what was expected.

Pulling her around by the waist, he tucked
her against him. “You don’t have to do this. I can open this
elevator door, and you can go if you want.”

Wide blue eyes blinked up at him. “You see
me pulling a prison break?”

“Your funeral.” He didn’t allow his brain a
single thought as he leaned in to kiss her. Pausing right before
their lips met to savor the feeling of holding her. When he lowered
his lips to hers, electricity zinged through his body. She jerked
in his arms. All it took was one split second, and the fire that
blazed between them erupted to five alarm status.

He dragged her as close as humanly possible
without actually being inside her. She tugged at his clothes.
Mewling sounds erupted from her that drove him mad with need.
Harder, faster, naked, inside her. As their tongues met, her hips
began a slow grind that reminded him of dancing with her. His cock
strained against his borrowed jeans.

Irritated, he yanked at the button until it
popped. He wanted her in a bed, but if he was honest with himself,
he knew he wouldn’t make it that far. Eli yanked up the yards of
fabric that was her dress, and satin smooth skin met his
fingertips. God, she was so soft. He could spend an eternity doing
nothing but touching her legs.

Jessica dug her hand in his hair and tugged.
In a hurry, he wasted no time; his hands traversed the toned
expanse of skin toward her heated center. When he reached the line
of her thong, he muttered a curse against her lips. “God, I’ve been
thinking about you since I met you in the club. I haven't been able
to get you out of my head.”

“Damn it, Samson. Hurry. I need—”

Every nerve and cell in Eli’s body shriveled
as if they’d been doused in liquid nitrogen. She’d called him
Samson.
That’s right, dumbass.
She thinks she’s with your brother.

Jessica rotated her hips against his
previously questing fingertips, but he withdrew.

“Shit, you’ve got to be kidding me. You
can’t just wind me all up then leave me like this.” Unfocused,
wide, blue eyes stared at him. “What did I do wrong?

“I—” What the hell was he going to say?
You called me by my brother’s name, who you think
I am, even though I’m only pretending to be him?
Yeah right.
“I’m sorry. I just have a rule about when I’m working. I should
never have—”

Her back stiffened. “You’re serious?”

His cock wanted to throttle him, but he
nodded. “Yeah. I’m sorry. We can’t.”

She swiped a lock of blue hair out of her
eyes. “Fanfuckingtastic.” She drew in one long breath. “Since I’m
here, I might as well see the work. Lucky for you, I’m genuinely
interested in your talent, or you realize I’d be out the door
already.”

Eli bit the inside of his cheek. “Yeah, I
got you.”

An hour later, his brother came home to find
Eli on the stairs. Jessica was long gone. Before she’d left, she
kept things crisp and cool. Nice and professional between them.
Hell, she even shook his hand. The physical contact hadn’t helped
matters. His body had just gone into another cardiac arrest.
Damn
.

Eli ground his teeth. Why did he have to
feel this way about her? Why now, when Samson was just getting back
into the swing of things. Why now? He didn’t have time for these
kinds of complications.

“You know, big brother, this is the part
where you’re supposed to wear a shit-eating grin for a few hours
then take your little brother out and tell him all the good parts.”
Sam joined him on the bottom step. “Instead, you look like I shot
your favorite puppy. Not the mangy one that used to follow you
around all the time, but the chubby, adorable one Mom gave away
because she said we had one too many dogs.”

Eli huffed a mirthless chuckle. “Nothing
happened. I sent her home untouched—mostly.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Dude, what is your
damage? You’ve slept with her before. Clearly you’ve got a thing
for her. Judging by the, erm, unreleased tension in your face, I’d
say she has a thing for you too, but you’re deliberately denying
yourself? What the fuck for? Because I’ve seen her—you don’t do
that little packet of dynamite, someone else will. Shit, maybe even
me.”

Rage unfurled in Eli’s gut like wisps of
smoky embers. Would Samson do that to him now? Could Samson do that
to him now? When he’d been using, sure. Shit, when Sam was using,
there was no limit on his depths of depravity.

“Stay the fuck away from her, Samson.”

Samson frowned, then shifted one
imperceptible inch away from his brother. “E, man. I wouldn’t do
that. I was kidding. You know. Running off at the mouth.”

Exhausted, Eli let out a long breath. This
wasn’t Sam’s fault. At least not directly. He’d been the one who’d
chosen to keep lying to Jessica. He’d made that clear decision. And
now he was paying for it. “She called me Samson.”

Sam frowned and narrowed his eyes at his
brother. “I don’t get it. So what? We do happen to look alike; you
are wearing my impeccable clothes.” He eyed the jeans. “Where did
you find those? I’ve been looking for them for months.”

“In the closet.”

“Guess I never thought to look there.
Anyway, my point is, she thinks you’re me. It makes sense for her
to call you Samson.”

“Yeah, I know who she thinks I am.”

Sam closed his eyes and nodded in
understanding. “You’d rather she called out Elijah.”

“Eli would do.”

Sam snorted then scrubbed his face with his
hands. “Look man, just tell her the truth. It’s fine; we’ll find me
another manager. It doesn’t have to be her. End this shit right
now. I don’t need to see you like this anymore.”

The guilt stung Eli. Would he really sell
out his brother for a woman he barely knew? “A, I’m pretty sure if
I tell her I was pretending to be you she’ll skin me, and B, she’s
the right one for your career. I’ve done my research on her. “

“Then what now?”

“Well, I made you a deal. I’ll help you with
this till the opening. Then I’m telling her. We’re halfway there,
and she loves your work. But I need to talk to her first.”

***

Stupid, stupid,
stupid.
Why the hell had she gone over there without a
chaperone? Jessica turned her Volkswagen Bug onto the 110 freeway
and merged with the rest of the Angelinos heading south. Pinching
the bridge of her nose, she tried to wipe the image of Samson’s
sexy smile out of her head. He didn’t smile often, but when he
did—whoo boy. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He’d done nothing
but smile when he came to see her at the studio the other day. And
he’d been chatty too. All charm. Today, he was tighter. More closed
in, like a caged animal.