Lipstick Kisses : A Sexy, Standalone Contemporary Romance (22 page)

“We’d better not—not here,” I whisper into the darkness.

Her breath is ragged and so is mine, but we have to stop.

“You’re right,” she agrees.

We pry ourselves apart and go to our separate rooms to try and catch a few hours of sleep.

I wake up before anyone else stirs this morning, and I’ve come to my senses.

I’ve got to stop trying to control her. I must stop caring what she does and with whom, because I know I can’t give her what she wants, what she deserves—a man who will love her, who will cherish her mind, her body and her soul.

Hell, I know myself well enough to realize that I could only deliver in one of those areas, cherishing that sinful body of hers.

She walks into the kitchen this morning looking adorably rumpled in her pajamas, which hang loosely on her curves, but she’s still beautiful. My eyes catch a glimpse of the soft, smooth skin of her belly as her crop top rises. She runs a hand through her hair, and I wish it were my hand.

I drop my head back down and continue to read my newspaper to distract myself from my lustful thoughts. I have to keep it in my pants. Only two more days of this torture of practically living together 24/7 under the same roof. The temptation of Sloane is driving me mad. It’s killing me.

I toss and turn at night, knowing she’s just down the hall.

She toasts herself a bagel and pours herself a cup of coffee.

“Hey, Justin,” she says quietly, joining me at the breakfast table.

“Good morning,” I reply, not even looking up from my paper.

We sit in an awkward silence.

“Where is everyone?” she asks.

“Parents went for a walk. Scott is still sleeping.”

“Kylie is dead to the world, too.”

“Look, Sloane, I’m sorry about last night. I let the alcohol get the best of me. I’m sorry I came on to you so strong.”

“Oh, great. So you’re sorry yet again, sorry it happened?” she asks, and I can hear the hurt in her voice—the anger too. She’s clenching her fists.

“Yes. I need to control myself around you. I promise you as well as myself that I won’t let it happen again.”

“Hmmm, whatever you say, Justin,” she says as if she doesn’t believe me.

She finishes her breakfast and takes her plate to the sink.

My eyes immediately watch her walk away, and I find myself admiring the shift of her hips and her being braless. Damn, she tempts me without even trying. Just two more days, I tell myself, just forty-eight more hours of blue ball torture.

Kylie and Sloane come downstairs, ready to go to the car show, and Sloane literally steals my breath away.

I can’t take my eyes off her.

She has on a dark purple sleeveless dress, snug against her curves. She looks gorgeously sophisticated with her long, thick, wavy hair framing her perfectly made up face.

Her lips are a glossy plum color, and damn, do I want to kiss them.

Her skirt is short enough to show off her amazing pair of legs.

She catches me staring at her, and I quickly avert my gaze.

Justin

We arrive at the Concourse D’Elegance, and Sloane is definitely turning heads today.

It’s chilly and windy on the Pebble Beach Golf course, which sits right on the water. Rows upon rows of beautifully restored vintage cars are on display for as far as the eye can see. Each entrant is hoping to walk away with a prestigious award.

I watch Sloane and Kylie wind their way through the throngs of people and the automobile exhibits.

The young and the old—no man is immune to Sloane’s subtle beauty.

“Son, Sloane has grown up into quite the young lady, hasn’t she?” my father asks.

We’re strolling together, admiring the stunning automobiles on display.

“Yes, she has,” I reply, clearing my throat.

“Tread lightly there, my boy. I’ve noticed the way you look at her now that she’s all grown up. She’s a sweet and well-poised young lady. Don’t you dare toy with her. I’m well aware of how you can be with the ladies, Justin. Keep it in your pants around her, understood?” my father says sternly.

I heed his warning with a slight nod of my head, but I can’t meet his eyes.

Little does he know how desperately I’ve been struggling to do just that—keep it in my pants. My big head knows he’s right and agrees with him, but tell that to my little head.

I watch Sloane from a distance as she roams through the car show with my sister.

A handsome and wealthy looking gentleman approaches her. I see her tilt her head back and laugh. What’s he saying to her? He’s trying to pick her up. There’s no doubt about it.

“What’s wrong with you?” Scott asks, coming up next to me.

He follows my gaze.

“Oh, I see. You’re watching her. You’re like a stalker. You want her, don’t you?”

“Yeah, and I can’t have her.”

“Why not? She’s yours for the taking. She’s into you. I know you guys have been stealing moments together.”

“That has to stop.”

“Why deny yourself the pleasure?”

“Let’s just say it’s complicated and leave it at that.”

“She’s not the kind of girl you just mess around with. You do know that, right?”

“Yes, I am well aware, and my own father just reminded me as well,” I grumble.

“Here’s your problem, Justin. You want to have your cake and eat it too. A girl like Sloane needs to be treated right. Just like your sister, Kylie,” Scott says.

“What does my sister have to do with any of this?” I ask.

I stare at Scott, and his eyes cast down as he shuffles his feet.

“Wait a minute—you don’t like my sister, do you?”

“What if I said I did?” Scott says timidly.

“No. No. No way, man. You leave Kylie alone,” I growl.

“I know I should, and I will.”

“Promise,” I say firmly.

“Promise,” Scott sighs out, not sounding very convincing.

“We’re both in trouble, aren’t we, bro? We’re a sad pair, hung up on girls who we should never be with, period. End of story, right?” I ask Scott.

“Come on, let’s corral the girls and grab some lunch.”

BMW hosts a deck overlooking the vintage automobiles, and we were lucky enough to be their invited guests for a delicious lunch. We flow through the buffet line and then find a table along the railing. We have a great view for people watching.

“Are you having a good time?” I ask Sloane.

“Yes. This is such an over-the-top, lavish exhibit of insanely stunning cars. I especially love the vintage ones. Many are restored so beautifully. And the people watching is so much fun, too,” she says, giggling with my sister.

“It’s all very
Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous
,” I reply.

“Hey, look, there goes Jay Leno. He looks like such a nice man, and he’s so funny too,” Kylie says.

I notice her and Scott exchange glances.

What’s going on between them? I’ve been so wrapped up in my own obsession with Sloane that I haven’t noticed what’s been going on right under my nose between my sister and Scott.

“You’ll have to come with us every year now, Sloane,” Kylie says.

I groan inside at the thought. I look at Sloane and she looks in my direction, but I can’t tell if her eyes are on me or not. She’s got these dark celebrity sunglasses on.

Damn, Justin, you have it bad for this girl. I shake my head slightly, trying to shake some sense into this brain of mine. Stop staring at her. I manage to glance away and just people watch as the three of them talk about the automobiles that impressed them the most.

“Justin, which car is your favorite?” Sloane asks, touching my hand softly to draw me into the conversation.

Her touch goes straight below the belt, and something stirs—the little head, no doubt.

I’m a pathetic and desperate man.

Thank God we drive home tomorrow.

*****

Sloane sits behind me on the way home and I steal glances at her in the rearview mirror all the way home.

Eventually, she falls asleep. She looks like an angel, with a serene expression on her face. I could watch her sleep all day.

I’m quiet most of the drive home, lost in my fantasies of Sloane and me together every which way possible—in bed at night, waking up with her, or just hanging out with her and hearing her laugh.

“Justin.” I finally hear Scott talking to me.

“What?” I reply.

“Did you hear a word I said?” he asks.

“No.”

“What’s up with you? Let’s stop and get something to eat.”

I pull off the freeway and go through In-N-Out’s drive through, just outside Santa Barbara.

After a couple of hours more on the road, we finally make it back into LA. I drop Sloane off last. Hoping for what, I don’t know exactly. I park my car in front of her building, and then I get out to help her get her stuff out of my trunk.

“Thanks, Justin,” she says, taking her duffle bag.

“Let me walk you in.” I make a last-ditch attempt at spending more time alone with her.

“No, it’s not necessary. I’m good. See ya,” she says and then turns on her heel and walks into her apartment building without even a glance back at me.

*****

It’s been a couple of weeks since our Carmel trip, and numerous times throughout the day, I’ve had to stop myself from calling or texting her. I’ve tried to cease all communication with the girl.

But I have to admit, it’s been tough.

Take this past weekend, for example. I really should’ve taken some other girl out, a woman to satisfy my basic primal needs. I have several women who would’ve been more than happy to provide me with a night of pleasure. I should have, but I didn’t. I guess you could say I wasn’t in the mood.

I call my sister, Kylie, to find out what she’s up to—maybe find out what her and Sloane are up to. As far as I can tell, Kylie is hanging with her USC friends. She doesn’t mention Sloane, and I don’t want to give myself away and ask her directly.

I try to be subtle about it until Kylie flat out tells me, “In case you’re wondering what Sloane is up to, she’s been hanging out with her best guy friend from school.”

Oh yeah, I remember the smug bastard. I met him once at her apartment. He was acting like the good friend. Study partner, my ass. He wants her. She just doesn’t know it yet. The guy was a silver spoon, woosie boy on the make. I couldn’t stand him.

“Look, Justin, I know you have thing for her, and I already told you not to go there, didn’t I? Sloane is the sweetest, most pure person. Don’t you dare mess with her. Do you hear me?”

Like I would listen to my baby sister.

“Yeah, yeah. Where are you and your USC friends going tonight?” I ask.

“Some new hot club in Hollywood called Spin,” she replies.

“That place is a little wild. Be careful,” I warn her, as any good big brother would.

“Don’t be such a prude, Justin. Actually, Sloane said she and Bryce might meet us there.”

My ears and other parts of my body perk up at the sound of that, but I play it cool.

“Talk to you later, Sis.”

You know where I’m headed tonight.

Sloane

Justin Harlow is a walking, talking contradiction.

It’s absolutely maddening.

I can’t keep my sanity for much longer.

Up in Carmel, one minute, he’s all over me. The next minute, he’s pushing me away, apologizing and promising never to let it happen again.

Honestly, I can’t take being around him another freaking minute. The week was a painful sort of torture. My heartstrings were being pulled in every direction.

I need to give up this idealized dream of us ever being anything together.

He’s just toying with you, Sloane.

And time and time again, you let him.

You’re one foolish and naïve girl to ever think he would ever be serious about you, ever want something real with you.

I’m such a dreamer.

*****

I haven’t heard a word or gotten a single text from Justin since we’ve been back from Carmel. I try to throw myself back into school, as that’s where my focus should be anyway. It’s a good thing he never contacted me. He would just be an unwanted distraction.

Unwanted? Yeah, right. I’ve never wanted anything more in my life than I’ve wanted Justin Harlow. I’ve pined after him for years. Who am I fooling?

Now that I’ve experienced his kisses, his sensual caresses all over my body and his talented tongue in my most intimate places, I crave him.

I just need to give myself to the next guy—someone, anyone—to erase Justin’s touch, which I can still feel on my body.

“Kylie texted me. They’re already inside, in a booth toward the back,” I tell Bryce.

We just arrived at the latest hot club in Hollywood, called Spin, and we’re meeting up with Kylie and some of her friends.

Once we’re granted access, Bryce takes my hand as we weave through the dense and crowded club.

As we make our way past the bar, which is situated in the center of the room, someone pats my rear, and I quickly turn to see who the culprit is.

It’s none other than Justin Harlow.

He looks angry once I see his eyes notice that Bryce and I are holding hands. Bet he thinks we’re a couple, and why should he care? We’re nothing to each other. He’s tried to make that perfectly clear on numerous occasions.

Good, I will let him think I’m with Bryce.

We find Kylie with her entourage of friends. I sit down next to her and start drinking from her Cosmo. I need to get hammered tonight and forget Justin Harlow even exists.

“I’ll take a Cosmo,” I tell the waitress when she comes by our table. I really wanted to order two. Bryce is sitting next to me, and I lean in real close to him as he whispers something in my ear. I laugh at his joke.

Ohhh, those Cosmos are starting to kick in and I’m feeling good, like I don’t have a care in the world.

Then I feel a tap on my shoulder.

I turn around in my inebriated state and see that it’s none other than the man I’ve been trying to avoid all night.

“Dance with me,” Justin commands, holding his hand out for me to take.

I look up at him and pause.

Can I get away with ignoring him and pretending I didn’t hear him?

Probably not.

I place my small hand in his large hand and manage to get on my feet, but it’s a challenge between my stiletto heels and the three Cosmos I’ve had.

Justin pulls me to the darkest corner of the dance floor, away from the prying eyes of our group.

At least it’s a song I love,
Get Lucky
, and I start dancing my heart out. Justin’s eyes scan my undulating hips, and I watch his eyes undress me. I tease him as I turn around and grind my ass on his crotch. I’m a bad girl, aren’t I?

His hands go to my hips and pull me against his rigid cock.

How my body still wants him, his body, all of him.

I continue dancing and rubbing up against him. I have no shame tonight. It’s dark, and I’m horny and very tipsy.

It’s my turn to blame it on the alcohol.

What’s his excuse going to be?

Because he always has one where I’m concerned.

“God Sloane, you are so fucking sexy. How can you possibly still be a virgin when you move like that? You won’t be for long,” he growls into my ear before he nips at my ear lobe.

Damn, that’s hot.

“Feel what you do to me.”

He presses his rock hard shaft against me. His hands skate over my body, heating me up in the darkness. One hand skims over a breast and squeezes lightly.

“I’m hot,” I gasp.

“You’re damn right,” Justin says.

“No, I’m really hot. I need some air,” I say, turning on my heel to go to the outside patio for some air. I’m suffocating.

Once I get to the patio, I realize Justin has stuck to me like glue.

“Justin, you promised me and yourself that you weren’t going to touch me again,” I practically slur out.

“So, are you with Bryce now?”

“With who?”

“Your friend, your ‘study partner’,” he says, using air quotes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

The cool breeze sobers me up.

“Are you with him? Has he gotten into your panties?”

“How dare you ask me,” I cry, coming this close to slapping him across the face. I’m sick and tired of his accusations. “That’s none of your fucking business.”

Justin’s incensed by my words. His jaw clenches and his eyes burn into mine. I have to look away or be burned.

“God, Sloane, what is it about you that makes me want to make it my business?” he says, in a softer, questioning tone of voice.

“I don’t know why. Why don’t you tell me?” I ask.

“There you are, Sloane. I’ve been looking all over for you. I thought some thug kidnapped you,” Bryce says, glaring at Justin.

“I just came outside for some fresh air.”

The men stare each other down.

“Let’s go. I’m tired,” I tell Bryce.

I almost see steam coming out of Justin’s ears.

“See you around, Justin,” I say, walking past him with Bryce following close behind me.

Bryce brings me home, and I make it into my bed alone tonight.

Justin: So are you with him?

Do I even bother replying to Justin’s text?

Sloane: NO. Goodnight.