Every Girl Does It(25)

His body is so warm so inviting and strong. I hate myself for wanting to be held by him. Instead he steadies me onto my feet and winks. “I was just kidding but maybe I should try that trick more often on you. It seemed to work considering you were putty in my oh so capable hands.”

He should be slapped. I lift my hand to slap him just as he grabs it in his own. Then before I know it, he’s kissing me, and not a friendly kiss either. It’s a fireman kiss. A big girl kiss, if you will. The kind that leaves you breathless and aching for more. His lips are hot and possessive as he cups the back of my head with his hands. I should be pulling away, but I can’t seem to find the will power to do anything except return his intoxicating kiss. The pent up tension from the plane ride threatens to escape as he deepens the kiss. Alarms are going off in my head, yet I’m finding it difficult to remember my own name. The thought hazily occurs to me that he’s kissing me to provoke me.

I force my lips to pull from his, even though my entire body screams in protest, and successfully slap him across the face.

He’s breathing heavily as he answers, “That didn’t hurt.” He turns to walk into the small bedroom then laughs to himself. “I told you so.”

“What do you mean you told me so?” I yell after him.

“I knew you wanted to kiss me.” With that, he closes the door leaving me still stinging from the touch of his lips on mine. What was that?

Growling out of frustration, I slam the door to my bedroom. Once there I decide that now is as good of time as any to put on my bathing suit and soak up some sun. I put on my brand new green swimsuit from Guess and wrap my towel around my waist. Then I grab my sunglasses and stroll from my room only to stop dead in my tracks. In the living room is a very bare-chested man waiting for me.

“There you are,” Preston says, putting his Armani sunglasses on. What is it with this guy and name brand everything? I scowl as I notice that he’s dressed to go swimming as well. “I thought we should go swimming before dinner. Get a little bit of that aggression out, if you know what I mean.”

I nod my head and follow before he turns around to face me. “Plus, I think there’s a lot of tension between us. It might be good for us to swim for a while, unless you had other activities in mind.” His smile deepens as my face turns crimson.

“Nope. Swimming’s fine,” I answer and stride out toward the pool as fast as possible.

“Where’s the fire?” He calls, trying to catch up to me.

“Ha, ha. So funny.” I put on my large black sunglasses, looking to hold on to a little of my dignity.

He winks in return and leads me to a few lounge chairs. The air is thick like honey making it pleasurable to breathe. It feels good to relax. As I check my phone for messages, I notice Bobby has emailed me again, but after the infruriating kiss from Preston my heart just isn’t in it. It occurs to me that this is one path better left untaken, again.

As if on cue, Preston turns to bestow on me the most sensual smile known to mankind. The man should really come with a warning label plastered across his forehead before he gives some poor old lady a stroke.

“Sir?” A high pitched voice interrupts my thoughts as I squint to see whose is addressing Preston as “sir”. Wincing, I see it’s one of the girls from the lobby. She has on a bikini which looks like it’s been shrunk three times before being worn, and her eyes are hidden by too big sunglasses. She’s chewing her gum so hard that my jaw hurts, and to top it all off, she’s looking at Preston like he is Brad Pitt. Which, maybe according to this girl, he is.

“Yes?” Preston asks dumbfounded.

“Can I have your autograph?”

“My autograph?” He asks, looking back at her.

She nods her head and smiles, “Well, both of you guys’ autographs. I swear, nobody is going to believe me when I tell them!”

“Tell them what, exactly?” I ask. Now I’m curious. Who does she think we are?

She shrugs and answers as if we’re the slow ones. “That I met Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie on vacation. So where are your kids? Are they, like, back in the states?” We are in the states, is what I want to say, but I can’t, because that would make Angelina Jolie look bad, not me.

“You think we’re–” I begin to say, but Preston cuts me off.

“Sure thing! Do you have a marker, pen, or something?” Preston asks looking at the girl with indulgent eyes.

“Oh my gosh, I can’t believe it. This is like so cool.” She pops her gum as she pulls out a sharpie then hands us headshots of Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt. Now I see why she thought he was Brad Pitt. The picture is one from his last movie where he dyed his hair dark, no wonder she thinks he looks like Brad Pitt, the resemblance is almost creepy. While I’m not built like Angelina Jolie, a girl could get used to being compared to her.

Signing my—or rather Angelina’s name, I say a silent prayer that I’m not doing anything illegal. Preston smiles as she runs away, probably rushing to tell her friends. Then to my horror I realize she’s pointing at us and talking rather loudly to the hotel staff. Well, maybe they’ll upgrade us.

I shake my head in disbelief as I look to Preston. He just smiles and nods as if to say, “yeah I get that a lot”. Wow, humility is his strong suit; or not.

“You need to be brought down a few levels.” Snorting, I open up my magazine and try not to be violent toward his arrogant smirk.