Just for Fun by Erin Nicholas Page A

Thanks.” He wondered if everyone got a personal attendant or just the guys who traveled with the rising Britton stars.
    As Beth let herself out, he surveyed the room. The suite was amazing. High ceilings, huge windows, plush everything. There was a large living room, a dining area with a table that could seat eight, and a kitchen area with a half stove, full fridge and marble countertops.
    In the bedroom there was a king bed in the center of the room, a loveseat and chair with a coffee table near the window, a full armoire and a balcony with two patio chairs and a table.
    There were two bathrooms. The smaller one was basic, but then there was the master bath. It was nearly as big as the bedroom. The whirlpool tub was bigger than the bed. One entire wall was made up of mirrors and there was an enormous glass shower stall.
    He could happily stay here for a year or two. He didn’t live the high life anymore and most of the time he was fine with that. He insisted on being fine with that—after all, what was the alternative? He had enough money, just not extra money. No one needed fifteen-hundred-thread-count Egyptian cotton sheets.
    But he sure as hell wasn’t going to complain about sleeping on them for a night or two.
    He knew money didn’t buy happiness, but it sure made happiness look, feel, taste—and even smell—better.
    Returning to the front room, he noticed their luggage had already been delivered. His duffle sat next to Morgan’s suitcase inside the door. Her gigantic, expensive suitcase.
    “I’m here,” Morgan called from the front room.
    Dooley propped his shoulder against the doorjamb of the bedroom. “I guess this place will do.”
    She grinned at him as she kicked off her shoes, removed her watch and earrings, and slipped off her jacket. “Nice, right?”
    She fit right in here. Everything on her and around her was expensive.
    He sighed. “Better than nice.” Good thing this was temporary.
    When she turned to him with a sexy little smile though he knew, short-term or not, he was going to enjoy this woman.
    “Dinner’s at seven,” she said.
    “It’s four thirty now.”
    “That gives us two and a half hours,” she said, unnecessarily.
    “Yep.” He moved toward her, stopping a few inches away.
    She was breathing fast now, her eyes were wide and she was clenching her hands at her sides.
    “How are we going to kill that much time?” he asked, his voice husky.
    The little hitch in her breathing and the way she pressed her hand to her heart definitely turned him on.
    He started to reach for her. But then something stopped him. She was breathing too fast. She looked…nervous.
    “You okay?” he asked, dipping his knees so he could look into her eyes when she glanced away.
    “Of course.”
    He took her hand, holding her wrist, her pulse beating under his first finger. It was beating hard. “Morgan, I—”
    “God, I want you,” she breathed out, looking up at him. “I do. I feel…” She pressed her free hand against her stomach. “I almost feel sick.”
    Both of his eyebrows went up. “Sick?”
    “Not sick . I mean excited. Jumpy. Itchy all over. I never get like this. It’s not like this is our first time. I mean, obviously we’ve been…intimate before this.”
    She was talking way too fast too. Adrenaline was clearly pumping hard and Dooley felt a smile kick up the corner of his mouth. He’d seen this reaction in women before. But never to him. Sam got this reaction all the time. Women practically fell in Sam’s lap, even now that he was married. They stuttered around him, they blushed, they giggled too much and talked too fast.
    And now Morgan was doing it. Because of him .
    An amazing surge of power came with that.
    No wonder Sam had been such a ladies’ man. This was fun.
    Dooley tugged gently on her wrist, bringing her closer.
    “This is so silly. I mean I want this, Doug. I do. I meant it in the bar when I said I knew this trip would involve this. Hell, I brought you along