Escorting the Actress by Leigh James
Lowell
I lay awake that night. I could feel him on the other side of the door. My body, heavy with lust, was practically screaming for him.
Shut up,I warned it. We're in enough trouble as it is.
I hadn't told Kyle that my mother might be coming home soon; I didn't want to put him any more on edge than he already was. Besides, this was my mother we were talking about. She could end up staying in Japan for another month, going to a random reiki retreat or finding some Japanese businessman to fawn over.
When I slept, I slept fitfully, dreaming of Kyle naked and on top of me, his big biceps holding me down. Oh yes, yes, yes—
"Yes!" I yelled, waking myself.
I sat straight up in bed, my breath heaving, early morning light coming through the window. I looked around, flustered and wishing that either the dream had been real or I could somehow manage to stop craving Kyle's hands on me.
"Are you okay in there?" Kyle called.
He heard me. Just perfect.
"I'm good," I croaked, embarrassed beyond belief. I looked at the clock—six o'clock. "I'm gonna go for a run." And burn off some of this sexual energy before I burst into flames.
Kyle knocked on the door and poked his head through. "I'll come with you. I can't sleep for shit."
I nodded warily, wondering what he'd been dreaming about and hoping he couldn't read the guilty look on my face.
We ran in the Boston Commons, past the quiet swan boats, past the empty benches still covered in dew.
"Do you wanna go for a long run today?" Kyle asked.
"Uh-huh. I think that would be good. I seem to have some extra nervous energy."
He snorted. "If that's what you wanna call it."
I didn't ask him what he meant. Strategically.
We ran for about six miles, looping back to Newbury Street. I stopped on the corner near a coffee shop.
My breathing was ragged. "Well, that hurt." At least I had something to focus on other than my yearning and frustration.
Kyle put his hands on his hips and bent over. "I know." Sweat made his shirt cling to his back, and I could see every muscle. He stood back up and caught me looking at him.
"What," he said, not bothering to make it a question.
I just opened and closed my mouth, like a guppy at a loss for words.
He gave me that shit-eating grin and came toward me. "You enjoying the view, boss?" He put his hands on my hips and pulled me to him.
I tried to pull back. "I'm all sweaty. And don't call me boss."
He held me firmly in place, and it became more than just the run that created heat between us. I struggled to catch my breath.
"One of these days, Lowell Barton," he said and grazed his lips against mine. "One of these days you aren't going to pull away from me."
I just gulped.
He released me and looked at me darkly. "Let's get some coffee."
I nodded and followed him obediently. For once.
I calledTori a little while later, while Kyle was in the shower.
"What were you thinking?" I hissed as I stalked around the too-sexy hotel room. "This suite is a sex trap!"
"Oh, lighten up," Tori said, and I could just picture her twirling her hair. "It's not a sex trap. It's just the honeymoon suite."
"This. Is no. Honeymoon," I said through gritted teeth.
"Aren't you having at least a little fun?" Tori asked. "The pictures from this morning looked a little intense though…"
"What pictures?"
"The ones on XYZ. Didn't you see them?"
"Hold on." I ran for my tablet and fired it up, clicking quickly to the gossip website. We were on the front page. It was a shot from earlier this morning, with Kyle's hands on my hips. He was leaning over me, and his intense expression gave me the shivers all over again. "Huh."
"Huh?" Tori sounded confused. "You didn't know the photographer was there?"
"No." I tried to remember the people around us on the street. Things had been so intense between us at that moment, and I'd been so beat from our run, I hadn't even noticed anyone else.
"You didn't think there were any photographers around and you were looking at each other like that? You're so totally sleeping together!" Tori sounded triumphant.
"I'm not sleeping with him!" I fumed.
"It didn't just… slip in there? Even once?" She sounded crushed. "You can tell, me! I won't breathe a word!"
"No." My teeth were clamped together so hard, I was worried I would get lockjaw. "It didn't just slip in. I gotta go."
I clicked off my phone and stomped to the bathroom, still clutching my tablet. I knocked on the bathroom door while Kyle was in the shower.
"Come on in," he called.
He peered at me through the shower door, and I tried not to look at his full frontal. But I might have peeked a little…
The news was good. Very, very good. Or very, very bad, depending on how I looked at it.
I kept looking at it.
"I knew you'd come around," Kyle said seductively.
"I have not come around. I haven't come anywhere." I mentally slapped myself for using the word come.
Kyle laughed as I got redder, clutching the tablet until it almost shattered.
Oh yeah—the tablet.
"There is a reason for my visit," I said, keeping my eyes off of him and trying to sound dignified. I hit the screen, and the picture of us came up. The headline read: Trouble in Paradise?
"Someone followed us here." I held up the screen toward him, in front of my face. For better or for worse, part of him was dangling below the screen, so I could still get a pretty good look…
"Lowell?" He paused for a second. "Lowell, stop looking at my dick."
I moved the screen down so I couldn't see it anymore. "I wasn't," I lied. "And it's not like it's so big I can see it from here, anyway."
"Oh, but it is." There was a smirk in his voice.
I continued to hold the screen in front of my face and talk through it, ignoring his taunt and trying not to investigate his naked body further. "My point is that someone from XYZ followed us here. We need to be more careful. I don't want anyone tracing us back to your father."
I heard him turn off the water. A second later, his dripping hand pushed the tablet screen down from my face.
"Okay." He proceeded to towel-dry his hair as the rest of the water dripped off his glorious body onto the tiled floor.
I peered down. "Um…"
"You want something else?" he asked, grinning.
"No," I said, backing out of the room. "No, I do not."
I closed the door and flopped down on the bed, exhausted. I'd never lied so much as I had just then.
"Since we're being followed, we should take advantage of it." Kyle was dressed in camouflage shorts and a Hawaii T-shirt.
For some reason, I found that combination mouth-watering. I followed him with my eyes as he paced restlessly. "Okay."
He looked at me with mild surprise.
If we were going to go out and put on a show, that meant I got to feel his hands on me for the rest of the day. That meant kissing all over town. That meant all the things I wanted—well, most of the things I wanted—without having to feel conflicted and guilty about it. It would also give me the opportunity to work on him about going to work for Pierce. I hadn't had the heart to broach the topic yet this morning, but I needed to.
"I mean, we absolutely should." I stood eagerly. "We don't see your father again until tomorrow. There's no way they can trace us to him today."
He held out his hand to me, and I took it, excitement coursing through me. Mine for the day. I was surprised by the thread of sadness that laced the thought.
This was just for now, but I wanted more.
I wanted more, and I could never have it.
Either Boston was a romantic city, or it was just us. As the day progressed, I couldn't tell anymore, and it seemed to matter less and less.
First we went to breakfast at an outdoor cafe on Newbury Street. We had fresh orange juice, tomato-and-spinach eggs Benedict, and cheese-covered grits.
"I hope nobody gets a shot of this food," I said through a delicious mouthful. "Lucas'll have a fit."
"You ran six miles today." Kyle leaned over and kissed me quickly. Heat shot through me, and his eyes searched mine. "Remember?"
I nodded and leaned back over to kiss him again. I was taking this further than I should, but I couldn't help myself. He was only mine for right now. I pulled back and he was still looking at me the same way, his eyes searching mine.
"You going for an Oscar today?"
I shrugged. "Something like that. Maybe a Golden Globe."
After breakfast, we wandered the city streets with his arm draped over me. Going for a walk for him like this was an event. Every part of my body tingled because I was next to him, his body pressed against mine. I'd never felt this before—this alive, aware of every second—and I didn't want it to end. I clung to him all day, knowing that when he wasn't next to me anymore, it would hurt.
We went to Faneuil Hall and watched the street performers, then we headed into the park and watched the children ride the carousel. Unlike LA, Boston didn't house many celebrities. No one seemed to recognize me, and I welcomed the anonymity. At one point we stopped at a tiny restaurant for raw oysters, clam chowder, and Bloody Marys.
Kyle threw his arm around me again as we sauntered back to the hotel that afternoon.
"This has been the perfect day. I don't want it to end," I said and leaned against him.
"Then let's not let it end, yet." His lips twitched into a smile. "Did you bring a dress?"
I nodded.
"Good. Then let's go take showers and get ready to go out. I'm taking my beautiful fake-girlfriend on a proper date."
