First Kiss (16 page)

"And dancer in a strip club is wife material?"

"Excuse me, but Tiffany Lynn is enrolled at NYU. That girl has her shit together." Kiki drummed her fingers on the bathroom counter, concentrating on the Kirby occupation conundrum as if it were hard science. "Is there anything for him here at the hotel?"

"You want me to hire Kirby to work at Affair," Fab said, the implication in his tone suggesting that the bartender stood a better chance of winning the Kentucky Derby on a donkey.

"What's wrong with that idea? It's not like you couldn't use the help managing this place."

"So now you want him to join my management team?"

"Well, it should be a move up . Otherwise, why bother?"

"Why bother is right. Does this man even have a resume? Did he graduate from college? Does he have any"

"Okay, okay," Kiki cut in, exasperated. "I'll do my homework first. But don't think this subject is closed. Because it's not." She sighed heavily. "Where do we stand on the steam issue? If you ask me, the hotel should treat to a day at Bliss Spa for making me put up with such substandard amenities." Hmm. That reminded her. Mental note to call Bliss about the agent contact info for Suzi-Suzi.

Three knocks rapped the door.

Kiki scooted over to answer it, quickly slipping into the white terry cloth robe with the affair logo embroidered on the back. Maybe Fab had arranged for room service to be sent up. That would be lovely.

But what stood waiting on the other side was something even more lovelyFab in the flesh, with an oh-so-pleased-with-himself grin curling his lips, mobile in one hand, the New York Post in the other. Ugh. Okay, that last partnot so lovely.

Kiki tried to appear put out. Granted, acting was her profession. But she had nothing on, say, Hilary Swank. The ripple of delight she felt at finding him there was no doubt shining through. "What?" Kiki posed with faux annoyance. "You show up with no coffee? No breakfast?" She waved him inside the tiny suite as she snapped her cellular shut. "And you say I rely too much on my looks."

Fab plopped the newspaper onto the writing desk and made a beeline for the bathroom.

Kiki glanced down at the tabloid. The headline temptress on the run screamed back. Photos of her running barefoot down the sidewalk and getting thrown out of the Stella McCartney boutique dominated the front page.

"You do realize that most guests who stay here are too busy to complain," Fab called out.

Kiki stormed into the bathroom, determined to show him firsthand the hotel's fatal flaw. To make her point, she turned on the jets full blast. And waited. No steam. Ha! Gazing back at him in triumph, she rolled her eyes skyward.

Fab merely smiled. "With two people in this shower," he began, sounding very much the all-knowing American to dense foreigner, "as it was, I might add, originally designed to provide room for, steam levels are more than adequate."

"That's discrimination," Kiki said. "And I should file a class action lawsuit on behalf of all single guests who have ever had the misfortune to darken the doors of Affair."

Fab hardly clamored to get his legal team on speed dial. If anything, the threat seemed to amuse him, much like a child's magic show might. "Since the grand opening, we've had two single guests," he informed her. "And you're one of them."

Instantly, Kiki thought of the mystery woman she'd encountered the day before. That nasty tone and those caustic words ricocheted in her memory.

Women like you make me sick.

How rude! And what did that mean? Women like her . God, it was driving her mad. Obviously, this bitter person had lumped her in with a group of undesirables. Kiki just had to get to the bottom of the issue. "And who might this other person be?" she asked, adopting a tone of mildly casual interest.

"You mean the single guest?"

She nodded.

Fab's eyes narrowed with exaggerated suspicion. "I'm not at liberty to say. But why do you ask?"

"Just curious," Kiki sniffed.

"Kiki"

"Oh, please. You sound just like Ricky Ricardo from I Love Lucy ."

Fab's stare continued to penetrate.

"Okay, I give. There's a woman on this floor who said the most vile thing to me, and I want to confront her about it. I think she's here alone." She picked up on the faintest twinkle of recognition in Fab's eyes. "And I think you know exactly who I'm talking about."

If Fab did know, then he betrayed nothing.

"Can you give me her room number?"

"Absolutely not. And that's assuming I knew who you were talking about. Guest information is strictly confidential."

"Well, how am I supposed to find her?" Kiki whined. "I suppose I could knock on every door. But there are some kinky people on this floor that I'd rather not meet. Did you know the man across the hall was into S and M? From what I gather, he likes to be dominated. He must have a very alpha-type wife who emasculates him. Elk did an article about it once. You know, I was just telling my friend Suzi-Suzi that sex has become so ridiculously complicated. I mean, honestly! How do you take a man seriously after he tells you that his fantasy is for you to pee on him?"

Fab shook his head. "No matter where you take this conversation, I'm not giving you the room number."

Kiki reached for a washcloth. "Drop this outside her door. That way I'll know, but you will have told me nothing."

"Speaking of S and M, maybe you need the good spanking." He tossed a glance toward the shower.

Are you just going to leave the water running like that?"

"See," Kiki demonstrated, waving a hand in true spokesmodel fashion. "It's been going all this time and no steam."

Fab gave her a look. It was sexy. It was almost lewd. It was just right. Simmering. Spicy. Bubbling up but not boiling over. Oh, God, even the way he just stood there was a turn-on. It was sick. "You want steam? I'll give you some." And all of a sudden, he proceeded to strip.

At first, she couldn't believe it.

But then Fab was down to his Burberry boxer briefs.

And all she could do was take in that body. So naturally lean and muscular. Shoulders as broad as an Olympic swimmer's. She gulped on air as his fingers found the waistband of the briefs and slowly began to inch them down. Kiki's heartbeat took off in what could only be described as exquisite panic. For the passion to unleash. For the pleasure to come. "I should call security," she breathed.

"To lock me out?"

Kiki dropped her robe. "No, stupid. To lock you in."

To: [email protected]

Subject: Winter Weddings

Julia!

I figure any girl who gets Roman, my DARLING brother, to commit to marriage must be a prize, so I'm assuming that you're an absolute doll. Since we're practically family, may I be honest? I'm only mildly thrilled to be in the wedding. I say that because I'm already in four others this summer. Scratch that. Three others. The point is that it's just a bad time for me. So much is going on. I can't even begin to go into it. Anyway, I've got two words for youwinter wedding. They can be en-chantingly romantic. I was flipping through In Style not long ago, saw pictures from a December ceremony, and literally started to weep. Just imagine how beautiful it could be! Sit tight. I'll have Breckin work up some ideas.

Air Kisses, Kiki

Sometimes a man could be right. Granted, this happened with all the frequency of leap years, lunar eclipses, and a Madonna interview during which she didn't wax lyrical on Kabbalah. But it did take place on occasion.

The steam was rising.

Kiki stood there, flattened against the shower wall, waiting for Fab to move, to talk, to breathe. Anything but prolong the delicious agony of the most important question on earththe one that only Fab had the answer to: What would he do to her first?

His eyes were hooded. His expression was hungry. But his self-control was well, annoying .

The incongruity stunned herthat simultaneously she could be so turned on and so irritated. Okay, a girl wanted a man to take his time. But this one seemed to have all the look-don't-touch discipline of Gandhi on a hunger strike. At some point there needed to be thrashing limbs and heavy panting. And that time was right now.

"Fab," she whispered, surprised to hear her own voice breaking. " Fab ," she murmured again. God, she loved the sound of his name. "What are you doing?"

He inched toward her, until his face was close to hers, a face with beard stubble that would rub so wonderfully against her smooth skin.

Kiki couldn't wait to feel it.

"I'm deciding," Fab announced, practically breathing the words directly into her mouth, his fingers tracing the contours of her arms.

"Deciding what?"

"How I want to take you first." His thumb was on her lower lip, slippery on the wetness there, washed by the currents of the steam jets going full blast.

Kiki put out her tongue to touch his finger. The messages from her body were coming fast and furious. The impossible anticipation in her stomach. The rush of blood in her taut nipples. The greedy ache to be satisfied at her very core.

His finger hovered at her mouth waiting.

Kiki eased her lips apart to take it deeper.

And then Fab pulled back, moving his hand behind her neck, drawing her even closer.

Her blood was on fire. She could feel him now hot and hard against her thigh, rigid as rock, bigger than any man had a right to be. Kiki wanted to touch him, to feel him. She longed to hold him for the very first time with both hands. Her fingers began the seemingly endless trail down.

But Fab stopped them.

Kiki pushed back, her eyes pleading.

And then Fab bruised her lips with his, crushing his body against her but still stopping her from doing what she craved.

For the moment, it was enough. Kiki shut her eyes tight, as if doing so would seal in the desire and keep it fresh until the end of time. She moaned softly as their teeth clashed gently, as their tongues waged a glorious erotic battle, as their mouths became one.

Fab's grip on her wrists grew more firm, just as his kiss grew more urgent. And through it all the hot water rained down, sloshing against their merged bodies, generating steam all around them.

Kiki felt everything. The power of his muscular chest heavy on her breasts. The thump of his heart beating through his skin. The pulse of his erection straining against her leg. Oh, God, she was burning. In a sexual sauna of boiling ice. Quite suddenly, and fighting every desire to do anything but, she attempted to draw back from his mouth.

But Fab resisted. And the kiss throbbed on and on.

Kiki realized that this was war. A war they were both winning. A war she wanted to fight seven days a week and twice on Saturdays. And never once ask for mercy. That was a personal promise.

It took every bit of willpower to tear her lips away from his. "Fab please ." Her begging was life-or-death, but Kiki didn't know exactly what it was for. She only knew that she wanted more .

More of him.

More of that.

More of this.

Fab's eyelids sank down over smoldering eyes that were suddenly heat-seeking missiles zeroing in on a target.