Mateo blinked his eyes open to find Heather propped up on her side, gazing at him.
“You serious?”
Lazily, she traced the tip of her finger around the curve of his ear. “Of course, silly. Why else would I ask?”
Mateo gazed up at the beaded chandelier hanging over the foot of the bed and tried to imagine such a thing. The vision didn’t get very far before it fell apart.
Heather hummed quietly with a hint of impatience, letting him know she was waiting for an answer.
“My mom’s pretty simple.” Mateo regretted the words the second they left his lips. Still, it was true. His mom was hardworking and down-to-earth. And while he knew she’d be nice and polite (she was that way with everyone), the first thing she’d ask once Heather was gone was if he’d lost his mind bringing home such a frivolous girl.
“Are you saying I’m not simple?”
Mateo glanced her way. “Simple is not a word I’d use to describe you.”
“Hmmm . . .” Her bottom lip nudged forward as the corners of her mouth tugged into a full-blown pout. “So what words would you use?”
He took his time to consider. He was wading into dangerous waters, where anything he said could, and most likely would, be used against him. “Driven, perfectionist, successful, self-motivated . . .” It seemed like a solid list to him, but before he could finish, Heather heaved a dramatic sigh and made a point of rolling her eyes.
“All wonderful traits in a job interview, sure. But isn’t there something else you might want to add? Maybe something like, oh, I don’t know, something more to do with my physical attributes. Like the way I look, perhaps?” She inched the sheet lower to refresh his memory. “’Cause it seems like you’ve already forgotten. Then again, it was nearly an hour since we last . . .” She grinned and slithered closer, rendering Mateo unable to resist her.
At some point, he knew he had to put an end to whatever it was they were doing. He’d planned on doing exactly that just after they’d left RED. But then they’d grabbed dinner, and headed back to her place, and before he knew it, they were in bed together. If he hadn’t seen the point in resisting her then, he saw absolutely no point in starting now. Next thing he knew he was kissing her.
He guessed they were in a relationship, since he wasn’t seeing anyone else, and as far as he knew, neither was she. But it was undefined and could end at any point. While he’d miss certain things, he wouldn’t necessarily miss her. He didn’t kid himself into thinking they’d share a future together. And he’d certainly never taken her seriously enough to consider bringing her home to his mother. To his surprise, Heather took it a lot more seriously than he did.
Or maybe she was just playing him. It was impossible to tell sometimes where the actress left off and the person began.
All he knew was at that particular moment, with her talented hands wrapped around him, none of those things really mattered. He was merely open to receiving whatever she was willing to give.
“So,” she murmured, her lips trailing the length of his torso. “Now that you’ve had some time to think about it, is there anything else you want to add to that list?”
She paused, her lips parted, just shy of her hands.
In a hoarse voice, he said, “How about irresistible—does that work?”
Heather flashed a seductive grin. “It’s a good start.” She tipped her tongue toward him. “Anything else?”
He forced himself to think, but it was hard to stay focused when she teased him like that. “Beautiful. Hot. Smokin’.”
“I like those too. . . .” She swirled her tongue over his flesh.
“Sexiest fucking girl on the planet,” he groaned.
Heather laughed softly. “You’re about to be richly rewarded.”
Mateo closed his eyes and sank back onto a pile of pillows as Heather made good on her promise.
Still wet from the shower with a plush blue towel wrapped low on his hips, Mateo went in search of his clothes.
He was heading into the den, remembering how they’d drifted from the couch to Heather’s bed, when he found himself face-to-face with a girl he didn’t recognize.
“Oh, hey. Sorry.” Her eyes traveled from his face to his feet, then back up again, leisurely drinking him in. “I didn’t realize you were still here.”
Mateo stood awkwardly, unsure what to
do.
“I’m Emily. Heather’s assistant.” She thrust a hand forward, then quickly retracted it when she saw Mateo struggle to keep his towel from falling. “Anyway, um . . .” Her gaze lingered on the place where he ended and the towel began. “I’m guessing those are yours?”