Spoiler Alert (Spoiler Alert #1)(58)
“During normal business hours.” Regretfully, she slid her hands out of his jeans. “Although there are also public indecency charges to consider.”
He rested his forehead against her shoulder for a moment, still breathless. “Fair point.”
Then, with an odd sort of groaning whine, he levered himself away from her and turned to offer the man in the doorway his usual charming smile. “Our apologies, sir. We’ll be on our way now.”
The man emitted an unappeased grunt and disappeared back inside his house.
As they returned to the sidewalk, Marcus cupped her hips and maneuvered her in front of him. Almost close enough to touch, but not quite. “Stay here for just a minute, please.”
If she arched her back just a tad . . . yes. There.
As her ass pressed against the ridge of his erection, his fingers tightened to a pleasurable bite through her leggings. “April . . .” He sounded as if he was speaking through clenched teeth. “You’re not helping matters.”
Okay, then. No more below-the-waist contact, at least for now. Instead, she tipped back her head, laid it against his shoulder, and smiled as they waited for his body to calm. “Really? Because it felt like I was helping.”
“Helping me get arrested, maybe.”
“To echo a wise man: fair point.” Luckily, her current state of swollen arousal wasn’t quite so obvious, but God, she needed to squeeze her thighs together. “Want to hold my purse?”
“What does that have to do with—” He paused. “Oh. Yeah. That’ll probably work.”
Still, neither of them started walking. Instead, he hitched her a bit closer, and they just . . . cuddled for a minute, her head on his shoulder, his strong, broad hands lightly stroking her sides and hips and arms. When he eventually folded her into his embrace, she rested her arms on top of his.
After a moment, he kissed her temple, then laid his cheek there.
It was the gentleness she’d told herself she didn’t want.
Turned out she was a liar, because she wanted it all. His teeth and his tenderness. His pretty face and his laugh lines. The respected thespian and the hammy star of Sharkphoon.
The gold and the pyrite.
Turning her neck, she pressed a soft kiss to the underside of his jaw. “Come home with me. Please.”
He didn’t hesitate, not even for a breath.
“Yes,” he said. “Yes.”
MANMAID
EXT. SHORELINE AT THE BASE OF THE CLIFFS – DAWN
CARMEN has waded chest-deep into the surf, fully clothed, and TRITUS flicks his tail idly to stay upright before her, gazing adoringly into her seafoam-green eyes.
CARMEN
When will you return?
TRITUS
Whenever you need me.
She casts him a shy glance through her lashes.
CARMEN
What if . . . What if what I need from you, you can’t give?
He frowns, confused. Then realization dawns, and so does desire. He swims closer.
TRITUS
Trust me. I may only be half human, but I’m all man.
CARMEN
You mean . . . ?
TRITUS
Let me show you.
But as they touch for the first time, hands entwined, her legs against his tail, her eyes widen, and not in desire. Suddenly, she is struggling to breathe, gasping and staggering away from him.
CARMEN
My—my allergy! To kelp! I’d—
(gasps)
forgotten!
TRITUS
No! My curse! It has finally come to pass!
The tragedy of their love overwhelms him, and he swims away, disappearing beneath the waves.
16
“SO THIS IS WHERE I LIVE.” APRIL WAVED HIM INSIDE. “IT’S an in-law apartment, so I have my own entrance, and it’s relatively private.”
Marcus glanced around. “Looks like a great find, especially in this area.”
An open floor plan, excluding the bedrooms and bathroom. Not overly spacious, but cozy. Well maintained too, with gleaming hardwood floors and stainless appliances and marble-looking countertops. Once she had the chance to settle in, he suspected it would become much more welcoming than his own LA home with its aggressively modern interior design. Served him right for not overseeing the process himself, of course, but he’d been overseas at the time and eager to come back to a finished house.
“Sorry about the boxes.” April shifted from foot to foot. “I haven’t had time to put everything away or get art on the walls.”
The white marble console table in the entryway—she’d chosen stone rather than wood, no surprise there—didn’t wobble when he rested a hand on it, its surface cool and smooth and solid under his fingertips. “I’m impressed by everything you’ve managed to unpack in such a short amount of time.”
She pursed her lips, but her little hum sounded like doubt.
By the time he’d followed her to the apartment, some of her confidence and her unabashed, intoxicating sexual aggression had faded. Right now, her gaze was darting around the room, seemingly cataloging all the space’s flaws. This was as nervous as he’d ever seen her, and that included their first dinner together and their first encounter with paparazzi.