Camera Shy (15 page)

She didn't volunteer what went wrong, and Simone didn't ask. She'd made that mistake with a few too many of Carolyn's boyfriends. They'd be there all day. Simone took a drink. "What about—?"

"I want to know who he is." The expression on her sister's face was accusatory. Simone blinked. "Who?"

Carolyn rolled her eyes. "I know you, Simone. I know when you've got a man in your life." She pointed at Simone with her fork. "Tell me who he is."
Only the sexiest man I've ever laid eyes on. Or hands on. Or—

"Oh my God, you're blushing." Carolyn smirked. "Come on. Tell me. Who is he?" Simone swallowed. "He
isn't
."

"I'm not the paparazzi, babe. You can tell me."

Right. You're not the paparazzi. But you love it when I'm miserable, so you'd probably
tell the paparazzi and make my life hell
. "I'm serious, Carolyn. It was just a vacation."

"So you just went off to some mysterious place and sat around for a week? What did you do, find God or something?"

Well, with as many times as I yelled His name, I may as well have found God
. Simone shrugged, mostly as a futile effort to mask a shiver. "I just spent some time alone. That's all."

Carolyn eyed her skeptically. She picked up her glass and stopped mid-sip. She gestured at Simone's drink. "Is that—water?"

Simone looked at her glass. "Yeah, just ice water, why?"

"You're drinking ice water?"

"Um, yes?"

"You're not pregnant, are you?"

Simone threw her hands up. "Carolyn, my God,
no
!"

"The only time I've ever seen you slow down on the sauce is when you were pregnant." She narrowed her eyes. "Or
thought
you were."

"That's enough," Simone hissed, stabbing her fork into a tomato. "I'm
not
seeing anyone. I'm
not
pregnant. I'm just trying to get some things straightened out in my life, and it would help a great deal if my sister supported me instead of prying for juicy details."

Carolyn sighed unsympathetically. "I'll take your word for it then. No man. No baby. No alcohol."

"Thank you."

The rest of the meal was tense, but conversation stayed on other topics. Halfway through dessert, Carolyn's cell phone rang. After she took the call, she snapped the phone closed and shoved it back in her purse.

"I have to go," she said. "It's your turn to buy; I'll get the next one."

"Fine, sure." Simone forced a smile.

Her sister gave her a quick, stiff hug before flouncing out of the restaurant, leaving Simone with the bill and what was left of her tiramisu. As soon as Carolyn disappeared out the door, Simone let out a heavy breath.

She rubbed her forehead and pushed her plate away, glaring at the bill. Of
course
it was her turn to pay. It was
always
her turn to pay. Another of Carolyn's little passiveaggressive stabs at the difference in their economic status; when Carolyn had as much money as Simone, then—and only then—would it be her turn to pay. Whatever. She jammed her bank card into the folder with the bill and set it on the edge of the table for the waiter.

Simone had never made a big deal out of her wealth. She didn't flaunt her money, she didn't rub it in Carolyn's face. Carolyn had always, since she was a child,

resented anyone who was more successful than she. Worse, it was not at all below her to try to sabotage someone to bring them down. Their brother's band nearly lost out on a lucrative recording contract after Carolyn made a few strategic phone calls. Well, Simone could never prove it was her, but she and her brother had no doubt. And that was precisely why Simone didn't dare breathe a word about Jason to Carolyn.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Driving down the long stretch of highway from Tofino to Victoria, Jason barely noticed the scenery. In fact, he barely paid attention to the road. Normally, he could multi-task; he'd watch the road, but at the same time, he'd be watching for a new place to stop and photograph a sunset, or scanning the treetops for a new eagle's nest. The four hour drive never got old, no matter how many times he drove it, and he always found a new and interesting place to get out and shoot. But not today.

He thought of one thing and one thing only: Allyson Bishop.

Just the thought of her face, of that mesmerizing smile, was enough to distract him from the road. Thinking about the way her hips fit perfectly in his hands, he nearly ran a stop sign. Even before he was out of Tofino, he nearly missed the turn-off because he was too busy remembering the cool softness of her hair between his fingers and the heat of her breath on his shoulder when he fucked her.

About two hours north of Victoria, while his mind was back on that pier the night he met Allyson, a logging truck changed lanes and cut him off, startling him back into reality. Rattled, Jason pulled over to collect his thoughts. With the Jeep parked safely on the side of the road, he rubbed the bridge of his nose. He closed his eyes and threw his head back against the seat. "What the fuck is wrong with me?" He slammed his hands onto the steering wheel, gripping it for dear life as he tried to bring his thoughts back under control.

He couldn't get her out of his mind. The sex alone was enough to distract him from everything short of breathing. Sex with Allyson was the kind of bone-shaking, furniture-splintering, mind-blowing sex he thought he'd never experience again after Paula. In fact, Paula couldn't hold a candle to what Allyson did to him. And whatever it is she's doing
,
he thought, shifting uncomfortably in the seat, she's doing it right now without even being here.

No woman had ever done this to him. Never. Not even Paula. And that scared the hell out of him.

An uneasy tightness crept into his gut. Whatever it was she did to him, she did it to more than just the part of him that currently made his jeans uncomfortably tight. But there was more to it than the sex. There was something else. Around Allyson, he could just be. No pretense, no façade, just Jason. She was fun, she was sweet, she was—

"Christ, Jason, you barely know her," he said, rubbing his eyes. But what other woman had ever had him checking his voice messages every ten minutes to see if she'd called? Especially after only meeting her twice, knowing full well each time she left that he might never see her again. It could have been just a fling for her, a notch on the bedpost, a fuck and run. Yet he'd waited by the phone like a lovesick schoolgirl for her to call, and when she did he'd nearly jumped out of his chair with excitement But he was uneasy. Part of him was afraid to rush into anything. More than enough time had passed since his divorce, but he was gun shy. And there was still that unspoken something that had hung between them on the phone the last time they'd talked. More than once, he'd considered calling and asking, but he hadn't quite worked up the nerve. He convinced himself it was because he wanted to talk to her in person, that that was easier than talking over the phone.

"Chickenshit," he muttered to himself.

He could only do one thing now: Wait. Wait until she came back. Wait until she said what she needed to say. Deal with it then if he had to.

Jason shook his head and put the car back in drive. He pulled onto the road and continued south to Victoria.

* * * * *

"Jason? Earth to Jason?"

Jason looked up. Sean, his younger brother, rolled his eyes. Jason shook his head.

"Sorry, I was—" He looked at the photos and gallery brochures spread out on the table in front of them. For the life of him, he couldn't remember what they'd been discussing. Sean leaned back in his chair, his hands clasped behind his neck. "So who is she?" Jason blinked. "What? Who?"

Sean laughed. "Come on, bro, I've only seen you this distracted twice in your life."

"Twice?"

"Yeah. Paula and Kelly."

Jason laughed, but the uneasiness in his stomach tightened.
If you only knew, Sean.
Paula and Kelly combined never did this to me
. Did it mean something that Allyson distracted him more than his ex-wife or ex-fiancée ever did? He rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed.

"Oh come on," Sean pressed. "Tell me. What did you do, find some chick on the Internet?"

"Yeah right," Jason said. "Because I get
such
amazing Internet access in Tofino."

"Tell me."

Jason shook his head. "It's nothing. Really."
Nothing I should be thinking about right
now, but I really don't have a choice
. He cleared his throat and picked up one of the color proofs of a brochure for their new gallery in Vancouver. "Besides, we have a lot of work to do."

Sean took the brochure out of his hand and set it back on the table. "We have a lot of work to do, you're right. But we aren't going to get a damn bit of it done while your head is stuck on Cloud Sixty-Nine."

Jason glared at him. "It's not like that."
It's exactly like that
. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and exhaled.

Sean's eyes widened and he leaned forward in his chair. "You're not in love, are you?"

Jason's head snapped up.
What, are you a mind reader now
? His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.
No. No, I'm definitely not. Right? I barely know her. It can't be love. Yet
. Sean's eyebrows jumped. "Oh my God, call the press, my brother's in love." He clapped Jason on the shoulder.

"I am not in love."
Yet
.

"Well at least tell me something about her."

"About who?"

Sean glared at him. "Do I look stupid?"

"Do bears shit in the woods?"

Sean laughed, but then his expression tightened. "Tell me. Don't even try to tell me there isn't a girl, because I know there is." Then, his eyebrows leaped and his jaw dropped. "There isn't a
man
, is there?"

"Yes, I'm having a sordid affair with a seventy-year-old fisherman from Nunavut."

"Jackass."

"Takes one to know one."

"Come on. Tell me."

Jason ran a hand through his hair, pausing to scratch the back of his neck as he let out a surrendered breath. He should have known he couldn't hide her from Sean. His brother could read him like a book, especially when he wore his feelings on his sleeve. Exhaling, he leaned back in his chair. "Her name's Allyson. I met her while she was on vacation in Tofino."

"On vacation? In Tofino? I didn't think anyone but you went there voluntarily." Jason shrugged. "I guess a friend of hers has a cabin there, sent her up to relax from, I don't know, something that was going on in her life." Sean raised an eyebrow, his humor fading slightly. "A husband, maybe?" Jason's stomach turned. He swallowed hard. "I've wondered about that, to be honest."

"So you had a weekend fling with a woman cheating on her husband?"

"God, I hope not." He paused. "She's been back up once. And she called the other night, said she wants to come back up. Soon."

Sean clapped him on the shoulder again and laughed. "Good going, bro!" Jason thumbed a stack of prints on the table. "I don't know what's going on in her world," he said. "But I wouldn't mind her spending a bit more time in
mine
." Sean snorted. "Your bedroom, you mean?"

Jason laughed.
Sean, you don't even know the half of it
. He shivered.
Just a few more
days. A few more days and I can touch her again
. "That, I definitely wouldn't mind." Sean smirked. "Animal."

Jason flipped his brother the finger and picked up another stack of brochures.

"Okay, we need to finish this."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Sean said. He looked at Jason, the humor evaporating from his tone. "Seriously, though. If she's got a husband or something, you could be swimming in some dangerous waters. Be careful with her."

Jason said nothing.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Jason's fingers dug into her hips as he railed her on the kitchen table. She moaned, screamed, begged for more, and he gave her more.

Harder. Deeper. Closer, oh God, she was getting closer. She couldn't get enough. Wanted to beg for even more. Couldn't breathe, so close, couldn't form the words, so damned close, couldn't—

The shrill screeching of the alarm clock pierced her consciousness. Simone's eyes flew open. She looked around the dark room, disoriented, before realizing she was alone in her own bedroom.

In Los Angeles.

A thousand miles away from Jason.

"
Fuck
." Her voice echoed in the silence just like her dream echoed in her mind. She groaned and smacked the alarm clock to shut it up, at least for fifteen more minutes. It was four thirty. She had to be on set by seven.

A frustrated string of curses rolled off her lips. She'd been so close in the dream, so close to the kind of orgasm only Jason could bring out of her. She pleaded for sweet unconsciousness to return and take her back to Tofino to finish what they'd started, but there was no way she was getting back to sleep now. Not with the way the first ripples of an orgasm still thrummed inside her.

Closing her eyes, she slid her hand beneath the covers and gently circled her clit with her fingertips, letting her mind take her back to that night.

* * * * *

Jason stared at the ceiling, whispered profanities rolling off his lips as he tried to hold on to the dream that had him
so damned close
.

He glanced at the clock beside the bed. Four thirty. Jesus. Outside, lightning flickered, and a moment later, thunder rumbled across the sky. Fucking storm, he thought. How many thunderstorms had he slept through in his life, and this one
had
to wake him up?

Son of a bitch
. He rubbed his eyes. Sleep wasn't going to happen anytime soon, not with as turned on as he was. Might as well just get up and start his day.

In the shower, he put his forearm against the cool tile and rested his head on his arm. He couldn't get the dream out of his mind, so he surrendered to it. Closing his eyes, he wrapped his hand around his cock and let his mind go back to that night when he—

* * * * *

—
fucked her on the kitchen table like his need for her was physically painful
. The bed sheets bunched in her hand as she furiously worked her clit. Faster, she begged him in her fantasy.
Fuck me faster, Jason
.