January (Calendar Girl #1) Anthology Anthology by Audrey Carlan Read Free Book Online

hand up to his chin where he stroked his thumb and forefinger along his jaw. “Game on, Ms. Mia.”        
     

Chapter 4
     
    When we got back to the house later that evening, I feigned being tired and practically ran to my room, shutting and locking the door. I’d waited by the door, straining to hear through the wood if he was going to follow me. As much as I wanted to be with him, as in between the sheets, I really should keep distance between us. I hadn’t had enough time to talk myself out of becoming emotionally attached to Wes. He was so nice, down to Earth, made a point to include me in business related conversations even if they were pretty casual. It would be wise for me to remember my place. I was nothing more than the hired help.
    Then again, why couldn’t I have fun? I was an adult, he was an incredibly hot, willing man. We were young and had the better part of a month to be around one another. If tonight’s sexual chemistry was anything to go by, I’d bet my bike that he was stellar in the bedroom. It would do me well to get a good rogering, loosen me up. It had been a year since I’d had sex and my vibrator wasn’t cutting it anymore. I needed that physical connection. A warm, male body.
    I stood in the center of the room looking around at all varying shades of white. The bed looked like a white fluffy cloud. I bet it was comfortable, too. Wes didn’t seem like the type of guy to skimp on the luxury fabrics for his guests. No, he’d make sure everything was just so. Walking around the room I debated my next move. He was out there somewhere. According to the clock on the nightstand, it was very late. One o’clock in the morning. We’d had a great time. I made a game of counting how many times a gold digger approached him, and how many times I’d gotten the stink eye. Twenty-four. He had twenty-four admirers in one evening. It made complete sense why he needed to hire a buffer. If he actually spent any length of time talking to those women, he wouldn’t have made contact with any of the producers, directors, or actors he had gone to the event to see.
    And Wes was perfectly in his element. He moved around the room like oil swirling through water, slinky, liquid, and never co-mingling longer with one person than another. I was pretty sure there was a method to his madness, but I didn’t ask. I just followed along and played buffer. When a stick with boobs approached, I’d turn, introduce myself and make it a point to touch and lean on Wes enough that the woman would scowl and slither away like the snake she was. They all were. Aside from Wes’s mother, Claire, I did not meet one decent woman. And very few over the age of twenty-five. It seemed as though older men in the business liked to have a piece of eye candy attached to them. The women just stood by their side with vapid eyes staring out the windows as they teetered on spiked heels and sipped absurdly expensive champagne. Probably to the point where they spent the evening completely stoned off the booze but not so much that they were shitty.
    I guess if you thought about it, I wasn’t much different. Technically, I was by Wes’s side for the same reason they all were. Money. I needed it, and whether or not they needed it or wanted it, itreally didn’t make a difference. Having put those thoughts together, I felt a sourness hit my gut, twitching uncomfortably.  That high from the evening left me in a rush of disgust.
    Before I knew what I was doing, I was walking through the darkened house. When I reached the living room, I moved to a hallway I hadn’t seen before. There were a single set of double doors at the end. Pressing my ear to the door I could hear the sound of a television. Surprising even myself, I knocked.
    “Come in,” I heard Wes say.
    On a deep inhale, I opened the door. He sat leaning against the headboard of a massive sleigh bed. The room was dark, cave-like with a lit fireplace on one side of the room and on the