Weekend Lover

  Weekend Lover Published by Melissa Blue

  Smashwords Edition

  Copyright 2012 Melissa Blue

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold

  or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person,

  please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not

  purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com

  and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Dedication

  To Kristy,

  It goes without saying how much our friendship means to me, but I'm saying it anyway.

  And it's before the dirtiest words I've written in public. (We both know I've said much dirtier

  in person...) As irony would have it, this is a dedication to you.

  Holla!

  Chapter One

  Nicole Harrison ignored the sudden warmth along her right arm. If she ignored the

  person in the barstool next to her, he'd go away. Her day had started at too-goddamn-early in

  the morning, and she had every intention of ending it with the shot of tequila in her hand.

  The liquor would dull the ache in her arches enough to give off a low hum of pain, instead of

  screaming at her. The last thing she wanted was flirtation or an indecent offer from some

  horny man.

  Out the corner of her eye Nicole could see one long, muscled leg stretched out in navy

  blue slacks. That long leg was connected to a large, expensive shoe planted on the floor. The

  other foot rested on the barstool's rung. From the neck down the man faced her. His posture

  had all the earmarks of waiting her out. An irritated sigh forced its way out of her lips.

  Ignoring him wasn't going to work. Nicole knocked back the shot. She had to use more

  drastic measures. “Give me your best line. I can shoot you down and we can end this pick up

  a woman at the bar bit.”

  Most men, when faced with one of her blunt propositions, would have apologized and

  backed away. Or call her a shitty name. This man let out a deep, rich laugh that dragged her

  gaze to his. Her skin prickled with sexual awareness.

  No wonder her peripheral view of him only went up to his neck. The careless way he

  leaned one elbow on the wooden bartop couldn't diminish his height. He had enough bulk to

  his tall frame to escape the kiss of death of being all limbs and elbows.

  And . . . she really, really should adhere to her personal rule of behavior while in a hotel

  on business: always be polite. As a publicity manager for Limelight, a PR boutique, someone

  could recognize her. One day she could mouth off to a potential client and wouldn't that be

  awkward?

  Shit. She tipped her shot glass in hopes of a corner of liquid. Nope. She met the man's

  blue eyes. Amusement darkened the steel-blue shade and she couldn't look away. Could he

  guess she regretted the words? More than likely. With a face like his, women didn't send him

  packing. Chiseled jaw line, sharp angles, and purely masculine from hairline to chin. Her

  pulse skittered under the open appraisal of his gaze, and then he smiled. The action should

  have been outlawed in every known universe.

  “Have we met before?”

  The heat of his frank assessment hadn't lessened, but Nicole laughed at the horrible

  pick up. His smile widened to a grin. No doubt he knew the line for the cliché it was.

  “You're a handsome looking bastard, so I'll bet that line works for you anyway.”

  He rolled his shoulders in a shameless shrug. “I assumed you've heard it all. Might as

  well spin a classic.”

  Nicole sighed. Just her luck. A handsome and charming bastard. If she sent him

  packing, another man would come along. Her uncharacteristic need for solitude with a stiff

  drink would be interrupted again and again until she left. She was a woman, alone, at a bar in

  an upscale hotel. Nicole had to face the fact she was the equivalent of the last fun-sized candy

  bar in a dieter's cabinet.

  Press junkets had filled her day, and with more to come in the next two, she'd wanted

  one flipping moment of quiet. Normally, she'd be riding from the high and getting revved up

  for tomorrow. Except her boss, Anna, had been breathing down her neck, pointing out any

  missteps. Nicole was so close to getting the brass ring of directing manager, but this weekend

  she'd started to feel the wear of the constant pressure. She needed to stay focused and rough

  it through this momentary falter.

  Warily, Nicole glanced down at her silent phone. It was a Friday night, and by now a

  client or two should have called, needing some wheels greased to get into a hot and exclusive

  club. She checked the bars on the phone and, yes, she had service.

  She cast a fleeting look in the man's direction. He seemed affable enough and didn't

  mind waiting for her final verdict. He had the ability to laugh at the whole single scene.

  Flirting with him didn't involve losing focus, but taking a moment, a surprisingly free one,

  without guilt or worry or stress.

  She pursed her lips, getting control of the smile to appear serious in her judgment.

  Damn hard to keep it in check because she wanted to laugh again. “A valiant effort.”

  He made a noncommittal noise. “And?”

  “Because you said it while trying not to laugh, you can stay.”

  He shifted on the chair but left one foot on the floor. Her red heels dangled around the

  second bar rung of her barstool. His hair, pitch black, was a little rumpled but he still

  managed to perfect an image of sophisticated sexy.

  She shook her head. “Model or actor?”

  “I don't want to talk about work. I've spent all day dealing with my job, and what I want

  is a drink with a pretty woman”

  “Smooth way to slide in the compliment. Thank you.” Since Nicole didn't want to talk

  about work either, she didn't mind the subtle boundary he cast out. “With that out of the way,

  how's the weather for you?”

  “Bitterly cold. I'm from L.A., which doesn't technically have winter. Chicago in

  December is not for wussies.”

  He wore a black dress shirt, sleeves pulled up over his forearms and the top three

  buttons undone. No tie. He must have settled in somewhere warm, most likely this hotel, to

  be so under-dressed for the weather. She'd chucked her gear in her room and came down to

  the posh bar. Thankfully, all of her clients weren't under the same roof. Otherwise, she

  wouldn't have had any time alone. Or alone with a man who made it impossible to look away.

  She didn't miss the fact her breathing grew shallow whenever he smiled. Keep it light,

  Nicole. “I was chancing fate wearing these.” She put out her foot. “If I hadn't been going from

  the car to inside a warm building, I may have lost a toe or two.”

  His brow rose as he tilted his head. Yes, his perusal started at her toes, but his gaze

  drunk in the rest of her. A flush crept over her skin and her nipples beaded against the satin

  red dress. It was the kind of gaze that didn't undress her, but lifted
her skirt to expose her

  breasts and ass for easy access.

  “That would've been a shame.” The line came out smooth as butter, and sincere. There

  was no mistaking the flash of emotion behind his gaze—lust.

  The same bothersome emotion burned in her breast bone, too. “You're good at that.”

  “I try to be. There's a line between being complimentary and creepy.”

  “You've perfected this art form.”

  “We all have to have something we aspire to.”

  She bit into her bottom lip, sighing again. He was keeping up with her quips and Nicole

  suspected they could go on for hours without him losing a step. That was more appealing

  than his face. She lived in the fast lane and many men, at this stage, got left behind in the

  dust.

  “Since it'd be rude for me to order a drink without getting you one too, what would you

  like?”

  She scoffed. “Yeah, you do that incredibly well. Come in, wow the estrogen with your

  testosterone and the woman can't help but say yes. So for all of woman-kind, I'm saying no.

  You can't buy me a drink.”

  “Really?”

  She hummed in assent. “I've already granted you squatter’s rights next to me. You might

  get the wrong idea.”

  “What would that be?” His laugh was as rich and deep as his voice.

  A shiver danced down her spine at the sound, but she refused to revel in the sensation.

  The wrong idea just might become too appealing. “That your con man smile actually works.

  Whatever you have in mind, the answer is no and it will stay no. I don't have time for

  momentary distractions.”

  The wattage of the smile didn't dim. “Most people believe a moment is a second. It's a

  single point in time. Do you know how much can change in a moment?”

  Damn, she was charmed. “What?”

  “Someone's reputation. Someone's beliefs. A clear goal. A single shift in a moment can

  change anything.”

  She eyed him, a little impressed. The man had smarts, too. “That's pretty deep for the

  whole pick up bit.” He shrugged. Nicole considered him again. Damn. Damn. “I'll pay for the

  drinks. Another shot of tequila, and then I'm done. I've got work in the morning.” She dug in

  her clutch purse on the bar's top for a twenty and handed it to him.

  “Me, too.” He took the money without protest. “I'm only here for the weekend, and then

  it's back to L.A. for me.”

  “Same here, but not L.A.”

  He turned to order their drinks and the full confession hit her. What was she doing

  telling a handsome stranger her plans for the weekend, as though they were coming to an

  agreement? I won't be here for long. I've got to work in the morning. Not too much to drink

  because...

  Yeah, she felt lust, but that didn't mean anything. She felt lust for George Clooney.

  Didn't mean she planned to hump him any time soon. Nicole narrowed her gaze when he

  faced her again. She had to nip this attraction in the bud, because it was too easy to imagine

  him lifting her dress and keeping up in the fast lane.

  “I'm not looking for a hook up,” she said.

  “Neither am I.”

  He didn't sound completely against one. Not from the tone he used. A tone much like

  her own, if Nicole thought hard about it. The idea took root in her mind. Something light and

  frothy to ease all the pressure leaving her limbs stiff at the end of the work day. End. There

  wasn't one, not really. Publicity, good publicity, had no final destination. Resting on one's

  laurels didn't exist in her world.

  Effortlessly, the man sowed the idea of sex with his quips, the smiles, and something as

  innocent as their legs brushing against one another. Their limbs connected, his so warm

  along hers. She would not have a one night stand with a stranger no matter how attractive or

  appealing the idea was. It didn't matter that the idea of letting go for a few hours, instead of a

  few minutes, sounded downright decadent. She had work in the morning, and he looked like

  the type to keep her up until the crack of dawn.

  He reached forward, placing a hand on the back of the barstool. A presumptive action

  that drew her attention. She glared at the limb. A little rough but mostly refined. He didn't

  work hard often. And because her job was about appearances, she noted how he claimed her

  space. Claimed her. With a hand. A very male hand. A light dusting of hair climbed up his

  forearm, a sinew of muscle on display from his grip on the chair. His leg touched hers again

  and he didn't move it.

  Her breathing deepened. A very masculine forearm. She had to work to keep the glare in

  place when she met his gaze.

  “You look nervous,” he said. “Want me to leave?”

  Yes. Her nerves jumped, settling in her stomach and making it so hard to stick to the

  plan of keeping things between them light. Of not being tempted by the idea of letting go.

  Nicole glanced around the room, and more than one man moved their gaze from her

  direction. “Hell no. Right now you're keeping the wolves at bay.”

  A low groan rumbled from his chest, raising the hair on her arms. “I'm being used. How

  tawdry.”

  He talked a good game. Nicole could give him that. Unfortunately, his game sent her

  heart racing with excitement and anticipation. “For some reason my bullshit radar is going

  off. I don't think you mind being used by a woman.”

  A languid and knowing smile spread across his face. “Depends on what she's using me

  for.”

  The bartender slid their drinks in front of them, and she wasted no time knocking hers

  back. The faster Nicole was out of the bar and up in her room, the faster she could avoid

  making a mistake. One that involved sweat, come and a bleary-eyed morning. It's the reason

  she didn't bother with men and relationships anymore. They sucked up time and sometimes

  good sense. She couldn't afford to lose either. Nicole was on the fast track. A night with this

  man demanded slow and all her attention.

  The smile was reeling her in any damn way. “Is that why you came over here? To be

  used by me?”

  “No, you looked lonely and like you could use a smile.”

  Had she? “I've had a long day at work.” Many, many long days.

  “I know the feeling.” No condemnation filled his voice. “I also chose to bother you

  because the rest of the people in here look like they're on the prowl.”

  The nervous titter in her stomach refused to go away. He was too close for common

  sense to kick in. It was just a leg. One stinking leg brushing against hers each time either one

  of them moved and her stomach had that jittering sensation one would expect to feel as a

  teenager. Not as a grown woman.

  “You're safe from me,” she said. Nicole would not consider what her mind kept trying to

  wander to. This was a friendly nightcap with a man who was sexy as fuck. “I don't even know

  your name.”

  “Sebastian.”

  She laughed, again, at the horribly obvious segue. “I was trying to give you the benefit of

  the doubt, but now I'm convinced—you're hitting on me.”

  Chapter Two

  Sebastian Clark's intentions had started off good, above reproach. The woman had

  looked lonely, tense. He'd intended to make her smile, buy her a drink and walk the hell

 
away. He had to get up buttfuck-early in the morning, but then she laughed. His ass became

  rooted to the barstool, and then he touched her and the dumbest thing would have been

  walking out of this bar without her.

  “It may feel like I'm hitting on you...because I am.”

  She played with the shot glass. “How many unsuspecting, lonely women have you

  picked up in a bar and tried to sleep with? Because I think we've passed innocent

  conversation a while back.”

  “None actually. Not my thing.”

  Her leg grew tense against his. Maybe she'd read him wrong and this was nothing but

  polite, flirty conversation. He smiled in a way that let her know she'd been right. Nicole

  chuckled, still charmed. “Bar hook ups aren't my thing either, but sex can be just sex.”

  He nodded, conceding to the truth. “Until it gets awkward and complicated.”

  “Ah.” Her head tilted back, and she began to nod. “The morning after. Or after the deed

  is done, things change and you're considering jumping out the window to make an escape.”

  “Exactly. I'd rather date and be clear it's not going anywhere.”

  She gave him a dubious once over. “How does that work for you?”

  He laughed at her insight. “Not well after the six month marker.”

  He shifted on the barstool and her leg brushed his. The heat of her touch invaded his

  space. Damn, a single touch, an innocent touch and he wanted her. It's why he hadn't stood

  up and left for his room. Common sense told him picking up a woman in a bar who looked

  lonely would end badly. No, he didn't get the clingy vibe from her, but that didn't matter.

  He should be calling his clients to remind them not to get too trashed. It was Friday

  night, and most of his clients would be in clubs doing their best to act like they didn't want

  their pictures taken while having a wild night out. Yet, making sure the photographer

  captured their good side.

  Snapshot, the PR company Sebastian worked for, had sent him out to make sure his

  clients fulfilled their obligations to go to each and every one of their press junkets. Almost

  Christmas, his top actors had movies rolling out. Nothing as insane as summer blockbusters,

  but close enough when he counted the charity events.

  It's why his intentions had started off good. Sebastian needed sleep after the long day.

  He’d wanted solitude and a stiff drink, but now he was too busy listening to what his cock