Lipstick Kisses : A Sexy, Standalone Contemporary Romance (6 page)

I play
Can’t You See
by the Marshall Tucker band over and over for a reason. Carrie’s the reason.
Gonna buy a ticket, for as far as I can. And I ain’t never coming back.
Her betrayal was a knife in my heart. I had to get as far as I could from Montana. That’s how I ended up in LA.

Never thought I would or could trust a woman ever again. I dated a string of ditzy model-types, having a so-called good time.

Until I met Nikki Russo, then all bets were off.

She was so different from any other woman I’ve had the pleasure of being with.

She intrigued me from the moment we first met. From the first seven minutes in her company, I knew. I knew I had to get to know her better, get to know her up close and personal.

For some reason, I felt I could trust her from day one. I do trust her with my heart.

Carrie showing up tonight brought back all the pain she caused and made me realize I need Nikki in my life. The look on Nikki’s face . . . I know how she felt. I had to rush to her and reassure her that no one was going to come between us. She’s it for me, and Carrie is out of my life, out of my heart for good, and never coming back.

I decide to head home and have dinner with my parents tonight.

“Hi, Sweetie,” my mom greets me with a tight embrace.

“Hi, Mom.”

“It’s good to see you. It’s been a while since you’ve been home for dinner.”

“I know. I’ve been crazy busy at the company.”

“I hate to see you working so hard all of the time. All work and no play isn’t good for anybody,” she scolds.

It’s always the same old line with her.

“I know, Mom.”

“You look too thin, dear. Here, I baked some cookies for you.”

My mom makes the best cornflake cookies—my favorite.

There’s nothing like them to make me feel like I’m home.

“So how’s the love life?”

Ever since I broke off my engagement months ago, she always asks this same question when she sees me. It used to really bug me, but today I get to share something. Do I dare?

“Actually, I’ve started seeing someone.”

My mom perks up like you wouldn’t believe.

“Oh?” she says in surprise. Her eyes literally light up.

“Yes, his name is Chandler Winslow.”

“And how did you meet Chandler?” she asks.

“Well, he came in to model for the ad for our latest lipstick campaign.”

“So he’s a male model. He models for a living?” she asks, and I can hear the disappointment in her voice.

“Yes, he recently moved here from Montana and just kind of fell into modeling when he was discovered surfing on the beach.”

“How long have you two been dating?”

“A couple of months.”

She says nothing more as she starts cooking dinner. She obviously doesn’t like his chosen profession. I admit, I’m not crazy about it either, but for different reasons.

We all sit down for dinner, my mom, my dad, and Rocco, one of my older brothers.

Rocco still lives at home at the age of thirty-one. He doesn’t work. I don’t know what he does all day.

“Hey, sweet pea, why don’t you give your brother, Rocco, a job down at your fancy makeup company?”

Here they go again. Do they think I’m running a charity? The last person I want working at my place is my brother, Rocco. He’s super lazy and has an attitude problem.

“I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

“Why not?” my dad asks.

“Rocco is not going to want to take orders from me. I can’t be his boss. It would never work.”

I glance over at my mom, and she gives Rocco a look of sympathy. She still babies him like you wouldn’t believe.

Rocco just goes on eating, as if he’s not part of this conversation.

He knows I’m right. He would never want the little sister he resents bossing him around at work. Good. I hope this subject is closed for now.

After dinner at my parents’, I drive home to my empty condo.

I miss Chandler tonight. Whenever I have to sleep alone in my bed at night, I miss his warm body next to mine. I miss the calming force that he has become in my life. I don’t like missing him. It makes me realize that I’ve grown to need him.

I don’t like needing anyone. It opens you up to being vulnerable, being hurt.

I finish getting ready for bed when my cellphone rings. It’s Chandler.

A smile spreads across my face as I answer the phone.

“Hey, Princess,” he drawls out the pet name he has for me.

“Hi, Chandler.”

“I miss you,” he murmurs.

“I miss you too.” We’re pathetic, aren’t we?

“Can I come over?” he asks.

“It’s kind of late, don’t you think?”

“I can’t sleep without you next to me.”

My sweet cowboy says the very thing I was thinking.

“All right, come over.”

“Be there soon.”

There’s a soft knock on the door, and I answer it in my nighty covered with bright red and pink lipstick kisses that I found at Victoria’s Secret.

Just the sight of him as he wraps his arms around me immediately stirs the passion I have for this man.

“How was dinner at your parents’?” he asks.

“The usual. My dad wants me to give my brother a job, and that would never work.”

“Why not?”

“He would never want to take orders from the little sister he has resented since the day she was born.”

I take his hand and lead him to my bedroom.

“I want you,” I breathe into his ear. I lift his t-shirt over his head and feast my eyes on his chiseled chest and tantalizing abs. I take a nipple in my mouth and suck it in. I slide my nighty over my head and toss it on the bed before crawling in.

Chandler strips off his jeans and covers me with his sinful body.

“I love you, Princess.”

“I love you too,” I say in a whisper, almost afraid to say it back. I hope he means it from his big head and not the little head in his pants.

Do you understand what I’m saying?

He kisses me hungrily, and I grind into him.

“You’re horny for me, aren’t you?”

“Yes, what gave it away?” I laugh softly.

“I love my horny Princess,” he teases.

“Then take care of me.” I buck up against his steely shaft.

“I most certainly will, in good time. Patience, Princess, patience.”

Chandler believes in a lot of delicious foreplay. He’s a girl’s wet dream. It’s all about pleasing me. I shouldn’t be complaining. He loves to taste every part of me before he indulges me.

We move on, and things are back to how they were before Carrie showed up.

Nikki found a house in Malibu that she loves, and she’s moving in this weekend. It’s got an amazing ocean view, brilliant blue ocean for as far as the eye can see.

It’s a huge, sprawling, one-story hacienda, and a lot of house for a single gal. I think we could be happy there together. I see my future with Nikki. I hope she feels the same way.

Although she still hasn’t taken me home to meet her family yet. I wonder why, but I don’t question her. She needs to do it in her own time.

I’ve had the urge to bring her home to Montana with me, but I want to wait until she shows me she’s serious enough about me to take me home to meet her folks. Because she hasn’t taken this next step with me, I still harbor some doubts coming from her side. Does she see a future with me?

I love being wrapped up with her twenty-four seven. But she’s a busy lady, running that big cosmetic company of hers. Sometimes, she doesn’t have time for me. I try to understand. I certainly would never want to be some clinging loser boyfriend.

I have more modeling gigs than I can handle. I’ve had to turn down a few, and I’ve been so booked. The girls still flirt mercilessly with me, and I’ve been able to resist temptation and keep it in my pants. I would never betray Nikki, because I know exactly what it feels like, and I care enough about her to never want her to experience that kind of gut-wrenching pain. Besides, Nikki satisfies me in every way imaginable. So why would I stray?

“Hey, I’m going home for dinner in a couple of weekends. It’s my dad’s birthday,” Nikki tells me while we’re curled up together on the sofa watching TV.

I say nothing. I’m waiting to see if she invites me along. An invitation is long overdue.

“Do you want to come home with me and finally meet my parents?” she asks.

“Sure, I’d like that,” I reply, trying to keep it cool.

“I need to buy a gift for my Dad. He’s turning the big five-zero.”

“That’s a big milestone. My Dad turned fifty a few years ago. Come here and sit on my lap.”

Nikki straddles me.

“I was wondering when you would take me home to meet your folks.”

“Really? I didn’t want to scare you off by taking you home too soon in our relationship.”

“Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know. Seems like a serious move.”

“Nikki, I’m seriously in love with you,” I say.

“I know. That’s what you say.”

“Why won’t you believe me?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you love me?”

“You know I do.”

“Then tell me.”

“I love you.”

Nikki rarely volunteers it freely. I always have to coax it out of her.

“Why do I always have to ask for it?”

“I’m sorry, Chandler. I’ve just got all this baggage, all these hang-ups from failed relationships. My broken engagement did a number on me.”

“I know, Princess. I would never hurt you.”

Every past relationship each of us has had forms and shapes who we are now. I know that. I try and understand that.

“I’m looking forward to meeting your family and seeing where little Nikki Russo grew up.”

She groans.

“I was a scrappy and feisty little girl. I had to be with two mean older brothers who relentlessly picked on me. They’re the reason I work so hard to be a success in life—so I can show them up.”

“That’s terrible that they would pick on you. An older brother is supposed to watch out for his little sister. I did.”

The agency wants me to fly to New York for a photo shoot with Anne V, the voluptuous model from Russia. I’ve seen her face and incredible body plastered in every magazine. She was featured in the sports illustrated swimsuit edition, need I say more?

For my career, I can’t say no. But I hate the idea of being away from Nikki. I need her next to me to fall asleep now. It’s crazy.

Maybe she’ll come with me, although it’s doubtful. She’s such a damn workaholic. She wouldn’t want to leave her business.

I’ve been trying to get her to come to Montana with me, but she always has an excuse.

*****

During the shoot, they pose Anne up close and personal. Her long limbs are draped all over me. She smells of warm vanilla and her skin is creamy soft. As her body rubs up against me, I can’t control what goes on in my jeans.

Damn, I’m sporting a stiff one, and I hear her giggle.

“What?” I ask. God, I hope she doesn’t notice.

“You’re blushing,” she teases.

“And that’s funny?”

“I can feel you, by the way,” she says with her seductive Russian accent.

I can’t control my body’s involuntary reaction to her sinful curves.

“Let’s have dinner after this. We’re in the same hotel, right?”

I swallow hard. This isn’t a good idea, and I know it. But it would be rude to flat-out turn her down. After all, a dinner won’t hurt.

We finish up from a long tiring day of four wardrobe changes and one location change before we call it day. She still wants to have dinner together so we decide to meet up in the lobby of our hotel after we go to our respective rooms to shower and change for the evening.

The paparazzi catch us as we walk into the well-known hot spot where
who’s who
dine.

“They lie in wait at this place. They catch me and my girlfriend all the time when we’re out in LA.” The damn paparazzi seem to know exactly where they can catch you at and inopportune moment.

“Who’s your girlfriend?” Anne asks.

“Nikki Russo. She owns Lipstick Kisses.”

“Oh, now that I think about it, I have seen you photographed with her. That young girl OWNS Lipstick Kisses, the cosmetic company?” Anne asks.

“Yes, that’s her. My Lipstick Kisses Princess.”

“Wow, you hooked a billionairess. Are you in love, or is it just lust for the dollar signs?” she asks with a gleam in her eye.

She’s making me feel like the male version of a gold digger. I don’t like it. She’s intimating that I’m some gigolo or boy toy or something.

“For your information, Anne, we happen to be in love and lust, which is the perfect combination,” I reply sternly.

“That’s great. Sorry. I didn’t mean to offend.”

This dinner is over. I signal the waiter to bring our check. We’re done here. I’m sick and tired of being thought of as just eye candy, Nikki’s boy toy, or her gigolo. I should’ve really thought about it before I agreed to start modeling. People think of me as just a pretty face and a body. They don’t realize that I do have a brain, and I do have feelings and compassion for others. Maybe I should quit modeling. It’s not like I need the money.

Once I get back into my hotel room, I call Nikki. I want to hear her sweet voice.

“Hey, Princess.”

“Hello, Chandler,” she says formally, with no warmth in her voice at all.

“What’s up?”

“I just saw you photographed with Anne V. coming out of New York’s hottest dining establishment,” she says, her voice laced with sarcasm and jealousy.

“I can’t believe photos hit the internet already. We had a friendly dinner. She asked me, and I didn’t want to be rude. I can assure you, it was only a brief dinner.”

“No dessert?”

“No. If there was, would I be in my room talking on the phone right now with you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you had a quick one,” she adds.

“I don’t believe in quick ones. You should know that by now. I miss you, Princess.”

“I miss you too,” she sighs out.

“I hope I can sleep tonight without you here beside me. One more night and then I’ll be home, warming your bed, sweetheart,” my handsome cowboy drawls and my insides warm.