her.
The deck pulsed below her feet. The Vegas show was probably wrapping up. People would be on deck soon.
She placed a kiss on his collarbone. He shrugged and settled back into sleep. Casey pulled her t-shirt over her head. Knowing he would wake up if she tried to rearrange his jeans, she placed his t-shirt carefully over his waist, covering him as best she could. Somehow she didn’t think the closed gauzy curtains would satisfy his anger when he woke alone. And naked.
“We never did have that drink,” she said. She knew she should feel ashamed for using him to forget. For not getting to know him first. But she could only feel sorry that they wouldn’t have another moment like this one. She wouldn’t seek him out again. Not with Tyler in her room. It was just...too messed up. She barely knew Mason, but he deserved better than that.
Her fifteen minutes were up. She was turning into a pumpkin. Pulling her bra from beneath his wallet, she stuffed it in her bag and quietly stood up.
“I’m sorry.” Leaning down, she placed one last kiss on his mouth, withdrawing quickly before he woke up. “I have to go.”
* * * *
Mason woke to the sound of a slamming door. A cool breeze blew against his skin. He opened his eyes, expecting to see Casey on the chair beside him.
The cabana was empty, no beautiful brunette in sight.
No blue-checked mini-skirt. No pink toenails. She was gone.
Grimacing, he lifted the t-shirt from his waist and then disposed of the condom in a nearby trashcan. He stood and pulled his jeans over his hips. At least she had the decency to put the shirt over him so he wouldn’t scare any old ladies who might venture into the cabana to look at the stars.
Why did she run away like that?
Mason didn’t have an answer. His editor’s voice rang in his head.
Cassandra Cash chews up reporters and eats them for breakfast .
She might make reporters’ lives hell, but she didn’t know he was a reporter. And sleeping with her wasn’t hell. Not even Purgatory. Sex with Casey was as close to heaven as Mason figured he’d ever get. God, she was so tight around him he thought he’d scream. No way she had turned any man off women. Just what was the ex trying to pull?
That didn’t solve the problem, of course. She was running from him.
He would just have to run her down, because he wasn’t close to finished with the small brunette.
He needed to come clean. Tell her he was a reporter, but maybe letting her know he wasn’t writing the story on her would soften the blow. Besides, she was lying to him, too. She didn’t tell him she was famous or that her books were on more coffee tables than Pledge.
Of course, he hadn’t really given her a chance. When he saw her looking from the newspaper to the crowd and back again, he knew it was her. Knew she was freaking out. And even without knowing her, he wanted to rescue her.
He went from coming on to her to nearly attacking her in the elevator and then to surprising her at her stateroom door. With several opportunities to tell her who he was, he hadn’t. At the thought of her, his cock went hard.
He couldn’t solve her problems for her. She was better off without him, but he wasn’t going to leave it like this. Mason Drury wasn’t a commitment kind of guy, but then, he didn’t do one-night stands, either.
Serial monogamy, that was his game. For the rest of this cruise, he was going to be monogamous with Casey Cash. Now, to convince her to be monogamous with him.
* * * *
The door to the passageway banged shut behind Casey and she leaned against it, exhausted. She wanted to escape to her room, but Tyler was probably there. He was being paid to be with her, but somehow she didn’t think he would appreciate her need to talk about screwing a stranger. Especially since he was the one she was supposed to be loving for the next week.
She straightened from the door, clutched her bag tighter and headed down the corridor. Forget Tyler. She needed to get to
The deck pulsed below her feet. The Vegas show was probably wrapping up. People would be on deck soon.
She placed a kiss on his collarbone. He shrugged and settled back into sleep. Casey pulled her t-shirt over her head. Knowing he would wake up if she tried to rearrange his jeans, she placed his t-shirt carefully over his waist, covering him as best she could. Somehow she didn’t think the closed gauzy curtains would satisfy his anger when he woke alone. And naked.
“We never did have that drink,” she said. She knew she should feel ashamed for using him to forget. For not getting to know him first. But she could only feel sorry that they wouldn’t have another moment like this one. She wouldn’t seek him out again. Not with Tyler in her room. It was just...too messed up. She barely knew Mason, but he deserved better than that.
Her fifteen minutes were up. She was turning into a pumpkin. Pulling her bra from beneath his wallet, she stuffed it in her bag and quietly stood up.
“I’m sorry.” Leaning down, she placed one last kiss on his mouth, withdrawing quickly before he woke up. “I have to go.”
* * * *
Mason woke to the sound of a slamming door. A cool breeze blew against his skin. He opened his eyes, expecting to see Casey on the chair beside him.
The cabana was empty, no beautiful brunette in sight.
No blue-checked mini-skirt. No pink toenails. She was gone.
Grimacing, he lifted the t-shirt from his waist and then disposed of the condom in a nearby trashcan. He stood and pulled his jeans over his hips. At least she had the decency to put the shirt over him so he wouldn’t scare any old ladies who might venture into the cabana to look at the stars.
Why did she run away like that?
Mason didn’t have an answer. His editor’s voice rang in his head.
Cassandra Cash chews up reporters and eats them for breakfast .
She might make reporters’ lives hell, but she didn’t know he was a reporter. And sleeping with her wasn’t hell. Not even Purgatory. Sex with Casey was as close to heaven as Mason figured he’d ever get. God, she was so tight around him he thought he’d scream. No way she had turned any man off women. Just what was the ex trying to pull?
That didn’t solve the problem, of course. She was running from him.
He would just have to run her down, because he wasn’t close to finished with the small brunette.
He needed to come clean. Tell her he was a reporter, but maybe letting her know he wasn’t writing the story on her would soften the blow. Besides, she was lying to him, too. She didn’t tell him she was famous or that her books were on more coffee tables than Pledge.
Of course, he hadn’t really given her a chance. When he saw her looking from the newspaper to the crowd and back again, he knew it was her. Knew she was freaking out. And even without knowing her, he wanted to rescue her.
He went from coming on to her to nearly attacking her in the elevator and then to surprising her at her stateroom door. With several opportunities to tell her who he was, he hadn’t. At the thought of her, his cock went hard.
He couldn’t solve her problems for her. She was better off without him, but he wasn’t going to leave it like this. Mason Drury wasn’t a commitment kind of guy, but then, he didn’t do one-night stands, either.
Serial monogamy, that was his game. For the rest of this cruise, he was going to be monogamous with Casey Cash. Now, to convince her to be monogamous with him.
* * * *
The door to the passageway banged shut behind Casey and she leaned against it, exhausted. She wanted to escape to her room, but Tyler was probably there. He was being paid to be with her, but somehow she didn’t think he would appreciate her need to talk about screwing a stranger. Especially since he was the one she was supposed to be loving for the next week.
She straightened from the door, clutched her bag tighter and headed down the corridor. Forget Tyler. She needed to get to
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