Over Exposed (10 page)

His narrowed eyes had become a full-blown scowl, his arms crossed over his chest. “Sabrina, are you sure—”

“Greg, I'm fine. Really.” And since she couldn't help herself, she added, “Yes, the sex was great. Yes, I'm sure I'll want more. But I really do have to get some work done or Tyler will wonder what I've been up to, and I don't think he'll be thrilled with the fact that his employee had sex with a guest, so I'd rather not give him any more reason to fire me.”

Greg started toward her but she held up her hand and he stopped, shaking his head. “No one is going to fire you.”

“Good to hear because I really love my job. And I'm going to go do it now. It was fun. I hope we can have more. But later. Let me know about lunch.”

This time, she turned, not waiting for him to say anything more, and walked down the stairs.

Proud of herself for not running, she hit the first floor and headed for the kitchen instead of the lounge.

She didn't think she could settle down enough to make her brain work, but she knew she could work on instinct in the kitchen.

And try to figure out how she was going to compartmentalize all the pieces of her life that had just been blown into so many different fragments.

*  *

Greg got about two hours' worth of decent work in before his conscience got the better of him and he figured he better go find Sabrina.

He'd been an absolute ass to let her go downstairs by herself right after he'd fucked her. Hell, he couldn't even pretty it up and say they'd made love because that's not even close to what'd happened.

He'd wanted her. He'd taken her.

And then he'd gone back to work.

Christ, you're an asshole.

No wonder she'd practically run down the stairs to get away from him.

And did you follow?

No, of course not. He'd already been in his room, furiously typing because the great sex and the amazing photos he'd taken of her had not only stimulated his body but his mind, as well.

And if he was honest, he could admit to there being a little avoidance going on, too.

He hadn't gotten to the stairs when his phone rang.

Pulling it out of his back pocket, he checked the number before answering. And nearly shut it off without picking up.

“Fuck.” Taking a deep breath, he answered. “Tyler. What's up?”

“Just checking in. How's it going?”

“She's fine. We're fine.”

Tyler paused. “Ooh-kay. Did I get you at a bad time?”

Greg sighed as he leaned against the wall. “No. Sorry. Just finished writing and am going in search of food.”

“And how's the writing going?”

“Pretty good, actually.” At least he didn't have to lie about that.

“And Sabrina?”

“She's fine. She's working on whatever project you gave her to keep her busy.”

Tyler paused again. “That's not busy work. She's gonna make a damn fine marketing manager in a few years. She's got the ability to grasp big concepts and cut them into manageable pieces.”

“I didn't say she was stupid, Ty—”

“True. But you just reduced the project I gave her to busy work. When have you known me to be stupid or too generous with my money? I'm paying her to do a job. I expect her to do the job.”

And apparently that job was not supposed to include being a sex toy for his best friend. Christ, he was an idiot. Before he could say anything else, Tyler continued.

“So how are you two getting along?”

Greg was ready for the question, just not for the immediate instinct to lie to his friend. “Fine. She's actually given me some good feedback on the script.”

“You let her read it?”

The shock in Tyler's voice grated.

“No.” But he'd been thinking about it. He wanted her opinion on it. Hell, he wanted her to like it. “We talked about a few scenes, though, and she had some good insight.”

He didn't add that they'd had that talk in bed. And unless Tyler was a long-distance mind reader, Greg figured he was safe from having to reveal that information.

“I told you she was smart.”

“And so she is. Is there anything else you want to know or are you just bored with your hotel at the moment?”

Tyler laughed, knowing Greg was trying to get rid of him. “Actually, I got a call this morning from a very good friend of my father's asking for a favor.”

“Oh, yeah. What'd he want?”

“For us to rent a suite to his son for a few months.”

“So? You've done long-term rentals before. What's the big deal with this one?”

“His son has a few issues.”

Greg snorted. “Don't we all?”

“Not like this. Have you heard of Sebastian Valenti? He's the—”

“Lead guitarist for Baseline Sins. Yeah, I know who he is. Had a pretty spectacular meltdown last year at a festival in England.”

“That's the one. He's been through rehab and he's been clean since, but his dad wants to rent him a suite so he can work on new music away from temptation.”

“And how does working in a hotel get him away from temptation?”

“I guess because his dad figures I won't put up with a bunch of rowdy musicians, but I could be talked into letting one kid with a gift for the piano and a sob story stay for a few weeks.”

“Ah. You're becoming a soft touch, my friend. That icy exterior is starting to crumble. Kate's good for you.”

“Yes, she is. She's also on the phone with Sabrina at the moment. Sure there's nothing you want to confess before I hang up?”

“Fuck you, Ty.”

“Uh-huh. That's what I thought.”

Greg knew Tyler was goading him and was smart enough not to let his guilt get the better of him. “Gotta go. Work to do.”

“Hey, I called the township. They should be able to get a plow up there sometime tomorrow.”

And Sabrina would be able to leave. “Okay, sounds good. I'll let Sabrina know.”

“You do that. Filming still start in December?”

“Yeah. The crew arrives right after Thanksgiving. They'll stay at the farmhouse. I plan to stay at Haven most of the time and do the editing. Give me a little distance.”

“Are Daisy and Neal staying at the farmhouse, too?”

“Yeah, but in a separate cottage. Let's just hope they show up.”

Tyler paused. “Have they gone off the grid again?”

“Not yet. At least not that I know.”

“That doesn't sound good.”

“I'm trying not to read anything into it but Trudeau hasn't been able to reach them to sign the contracts.”

“You don't think they're—”

“Like I said.” He cut Tyler off before he could voice Greg's own doubts. “I'm not reading anything into it yet. They'll show.”

“Hopefully sober.”

“They will be.” He couldn't let himself think anything else. He needed this filming to go off without too many hitches. They only had a thirty-day shooting window. Tight but doable. He'd actually padded the shoot with a couple extra days. Just in case.

They were shooting in the winter in Pennsylvania. The smarter move would've been to shoot in California but that wasn't the look he wanted.

“Hmm. Are you still planning to be back here Monday?”

“Yeah. My flight leaves Tuesday at three a.m. Then I'll be back the day before Thanksgiving.”

“Okay. And Greg?”

“Yeah?”

“Don't break her heart.”

Four

“So?”

“So what?”

Kate huffed and Sabrina covered a sigh, knowing she wasn't going to distract her friend by playing dumb. Kate knew her too well.

“Fine. I'll spell it out. How are you and Greg getting along?”

“Fine.”
He kisses like a god.
“Everything's fine.”
The sex was freaking amazing.
“We're getting along just fine.”

“Oh, no. What happened?”

Shit. One too many fines.
“Nothing happened.”
Except great sex.
“He's been working a lot.”
True.
“And I'm working on the copy for the brochure.”

Kate paused then apparently decided to let her off the hook for the time being. Or she was simply regrouping for another attempt at information. “And how's that going?”

“Pretty well, I think. At least I hope it is. I have some ideas I want to float by Tyler, but I'm having fun with the descriptions.”

“I'm sure Tyler will love them. And he told me to tell you the plows should make their way up there by tomorrow morning, at the latest.”

Was that supposed to be good news?

“Okay. Great.” She tried to force enthusiasm into her voice but probably failed miserably. “Thanks. So hey, I've been doing a little work on the boutique. I had a few ideas about displays and stuff.”

They talked for a few more minutes, Sabrina explaining her ideas for displaying Kate's lingerie in the retreat's small boutique, and Kate gushing over them.

“You'll definitely have to be there when I bring the rest of the stock up,” Kate said. “Opening day will be here soon.”

“Are you getting nervous?”

“Of course I am. What if people hate my lingerie?”

“Oh please, no one could hate your lingerie,” Sabrina said, totally believing every word. “You're gonna kill this.”

Kate laughed. “You're so good for my ego. Smooches. Uh-oh. Tyler just walked back into the room and I got the raised eyebrow. You know what that means.”

Yes, she did. All Tyler had to do was raise an eyebrow and everyone in the vicinity stopped what they were doing and attended to him. He just had that air about him.

Sabrina would've gladly admitted she'd had a slight crush on Tyler. Okay, maybe she still had a slight crush on him, but now it was only for his business skills. She
so
wanted to be half as good at what he did one day.

After saying good-bye to Kate, and promising to call if anything “interesting” happened, Sabrina shut off all the lights in the small boutique in the front of the building and made her way back to the kitchen. She didn't hear any movement upstairs so that probably meant Greg was still working.

She'd kept herself busy all afternoon so she didn't constantly think about him. About Greg naked. About him over her and inside her. Because every time she did, she wanted to do it again. And again.

And that, my friends, is the start of an addiction.

Her stomach growled and she realized it was almost six o'clock. They could both do with some food. Maybe he'd want to eat in his room and keep working. She certainly didn't want to get in his way.

“There you are. I was just coming to look for you.”

Greg walked out of the kitchen just as she was ready to walk through the door, and she barely managed to catch back a sigh as her heart kicked up its beat and her lungs tightened. Her skin tingled in anticipation of his touch and her thighs clenched as her pussy went wet.

Maybe those snowplows could get here just a little faster, because she was
not
going to be able to say no to him. Not about anything.

Still, she was here to do a job. “Are you hungry? I was just about to start dinner. Is there anything in particular you'd like?”

She saw his eyes narrow and realized he was going to flirt with her. And that could spell disaster. She needed to define some boundaries here, before he wiped them all out of existence.

“I thought I'd make pasta, if that's okay with you,” she continued, not wanting to give him an opening. “I think I saw meatballs in the freezer and I make a pretty decent marinara.”

“Sure, sounds good.”

As he leaned against the worktable, she pulled out a pot then headed for the pantry.

“Did you get a lot of work done?” she asked when she emerged with the ingredients.

“Yeah, actually, I did. I'm pretty sure I have you to thank for that. The sex was amazing.”

She nearly tripped over her feet. Luckily, she was close enough to the table that she could put the cans of tomato sauce and jars of spices down before she dropped them. When she looked up at him, she knew her face had turned beet-red.

“Jesus, Greg. Do you go out of your way to make me blush or is it a gift?”

The gleam in his eyes should have warned her that he wasn't finished. “I'm not in the habit of saying things I don't mean.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, he walked around the table to stand right next to her. Not close enough to be in her personal space, but that didn't matter. No matter where he stood, if he was in the same room, he was too close. Or too far away.

“Well, do you have to say everything that comes into your mind? It's disconcerting.”

“Not arousing?”

She blushed again but forced herself to continue opening the cans. “What do you want me to say to that?”

“How about the truth?”

She shot him a quick glance. “Fine. The truth is I get hot just looking at you.” She looked up again, so wanting to stick out her tongue at him but afraid he'd think she was being childish. Or see it as an invitation to kiss her.

Which she really wanted.

Because the snowplows would be here tomorrow. He was scheduled to go back to Haven on Monday, which was the day after tomorrow.

And then he was probably flying back to Hollywood.

She'd known there was a time limit on this affair. She'd actually been counting on that to help her get through the inevitable heartbreak when he told her, “It's been fun, kid. See you around.”

But she hadn't expected him to want to tease and flirt. She'd expected more typical guy behavior. She'd almost expected him not to pay her any attention now that they'd had sex.

Which probably just showed the quality of guys she'd dated.

And Greg was
so
not a typical guy.

He stared back at her, his mouth curved in a wry smile that made her want to throw things at him. And kiss the smirk off his face.

“Is that what you wanted to hear?”

He shrugged, that smile widening just a little. “Truthfully, babe, I want to hear anything you have to say.”

She stared up at him, shaking her head. “Why?”

He continued to smile. “So what are you putting in this sauce? You are going to finish it, aren't you? I worked up a pretty decent appetite today.”

Her eyes widened. “Seriously? Now you just want me to cook for you? Why don't you go ahead and make sure I'm barefoot, too.”

His smirk turned into a full-blown grin. “See, this is why I like you. You're not afraid to give me shit.”

She huffed, secretly pleased that she had something that set her apart from the beautiful women who surrounded him the rest of the time. “Well, at least make yourself useful and open these cans for me.”

They worked side by side to put dinner together. He let her tell him what to do and he did anything she asked. Almost as if they were a couple. Two normal people sharing an ordinary life.

And she enjoyed it way too much.

Let go, Sabrina. Live a little and enjoy.

Oh, how she wanted to. But every time she tried, that little voice in the back of her brain continued the countdown.

Obviously, she wasn't one of those people who could live in the moment. She lived in this moment
and
the one happening two days from now when he patted her on the ass and kissed her good-bye, and the next time she saw him at the hotel, he'd nod at her as he walked by then forget her.

She managed to keep a smile on her face all through dinner, where Greg complimented her on the sauce and told her all about the changes he'd made to the script.

He drew her into the story, got her to tell him what she thought about the plot and the characters, and it was after eight when they finally got up from the table. When he offered to help her load the dishwasher, she didn't bother to argue because he wouldn't listen anyway.

Afterward, she stood staring out the window over the sink. It had finally stopped snowing and the bright moon illuminated the winter wonderland outside. A blanket of white covered everything as far as the eye could see. Only the tree trunks were dark stains against all that white.

“You look about a thousand miles away. You tired?” Greg stepped up next to her. “Looks beautiful, doesn't it? You can make snow, but it never looks right. At least I don't think it does.”

“Not tired, not really.” She didn't want to go to bed alone but she wasn't going to throw herself at him and beg him to take her, either. If he wanted her, he'd say so. She knew that much about him.

“Good. You want to watch Margo and Mason Holder's latest film? Won't be released until next March. I've got an early copy. They wanted notes so . . . ?”

Sabrina turned to him with a smile, tossing the dishtowel onto the counter. “Seriously? I loved their first movie. I thought
Inmates
was brilliant.”

Greg caught himself before he leaned down to kiss the excitement off her beautiful face.

He'd planned on taking her straight back to his bed after dinner, but she'd gotten quieter as dinner had progressed. Something had been bothering her all day. He'd wanted to ask what was going on, but he wasn't sure she'd tell him.

Had she been waiting for him to do something, say something? Was she expecting him to whisk her off to bed and bang her brains out?

That's what
he
wanted. But he didn't want her to think the only reason he wanted her was because she was convenient.

Sure, he wanted to sink inside that gorgeous body and lose himself. He still planned to later. And he wanted to stay there for the rest of the night.

But right now, he wanted to have her next to him on the couch while he watched this film. Wanted to hear what she had to say about it, wanted to discuss it with her.

Then he'd tell her that when they returned to Philadelphia, he wanted to continue seeing her.

Yeah, it was going to be problematic. He had to go back to L.A. for several days. And she'd just started working for Tyler. To make matters worse, it was her first real job. Which made the fact of her age smack him in the face again.

Christ, what a fucking minefield. But he'd dealt with worse before.

“
Inmates
was a great first film,” he said as they walked back to the lounge, “but I know they can do better. I've seen some of the dailies and they're funny as hell. I'm hoping the rest of the film lives up to the promise.”

As he put in the DVD, she settled onto the couch. He'd wondered if she'd take the chair. Wanted to pump his fist in the air when she didn't. If she had, he would've scooped her up and settled her on the couch. Where he wanted her.

He sat next to her but contained the urge to draw her into his side. He wanted her snuggled up against him, her head on his chest, but didn't want to seem demanding.

Hell, maybe he should be worried about becoming obsessed. Too possessive.

Which had never been a problem for him before. Well, at least not the possessive part. Obsessive . . . yeah. He'd cop to that. It's what made him good at his job.

And if he wanted to continue this relationship beyond these few days, it was probably good to get it out in the open right away.

So he grabbed the remote, hit the play button, and reached for her.

Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, he pulled her against him. She slid across the leather cushion without protest or hesitation.

Now he had her settled against him exactly how he wanted her—her side against his, her head on his shoulder and her hand on his thigh. His cock started to harden as he rested his chin on top of her head and breathed her in.

He realized about halfway through the film that he'd have to watch it again, alone, because he'd paid more attention to Sabrina for forty-five minutes than he had to the movie.

Every time she'd laughed, he'd felt the sensation ripple through his body. Every time she shifted, getting more comfortable against him, his muscles tensed a little tighter.

And then, halfway in, they hit the love scene.

Because he'd been following the film only half-assed, it was like a blow to the solar plexus when the characters started ripping off their clothes and having sex against a wall in the pouring rain.

It was hot and raw and, by the time it was over, not more than two minutes later, he was ready to rip Sabrina's clothes off and fuck her on the couch.