Her cheeks burn a warm pink as her green eyes grow wide and she scoffs, stepping back with a wary look. Hollis tips her chin toward the office space down the hallway, gesturing for me to follow her, peering over her shoulder with a snarl.
“You promised we’d never mention that again.”
I give her a low chuckle and lift the corners of my mouth in a smirk.
“Perhaps. But I never said I wouldn’t think about it happening again. Or hope it would happen again.” I say that last part under my breath.
She strides into the small office we’re using for our meeting to discuss the possibility of her becoming my publicist. I really only need her help for the next year and then who knows where I’ll be at? If I don’t resolve my Visa issue, I won’t have my skiing profession to use to stay in the states, nor will I be able to take on the new role of coach and I’ll be forced to return to Switzerland. Where I have nothing waiting for me.
Hollis sits down at the table and looks away, the heat staining her cheeks, the color rising to peek out from underneath the high neck of her sweater.
When she returns her gaze to me, I give her a shit-eating grin because I know it’ll rile her up. And truth be told, I love to see Hollis Taylor riled up.
Chapter Three
Hollis
Why does Kellan have to be so goddamn handsome? His blond tousled hair, cute boy-next-door charm and big, crystal blue eyes that see right through my exterior are too hard to resist. And I feel exposed under the weight of his stare. It’s like he’s undressing me and I’m standing naked in front of him.
Like I once did.
I shake off the thoughts and remove my jacket, spinning around to drape it over the chair. When I turn back to face Kellan, he’s leaning back in his seat, leg bent and booted foot propped up over his knee, and head leaned back against the support of the wall. His eyes are also closed, and arms crossed at his chest.
I take a moment to admire his cut physique. It’s insane how hot he is.
“Do we need to reschedule this so you can get some sleep? Perhaps you were out too late last night with the snow bunnies?”
I can’t imagine he’s been celibate since we last hooked up, but I don’t want to think about all the throngs of ski bunnies who he’s slept with since then.
He peels an eye open and lifts a shoulder, closing the eyelid again as I allow my own eyes to trail down his long torso, muscular arms and strong, bulging thighs. And then I lock in on his other bulging body part and my skin begins to prickle with heat.
I tug at the turtleneck at my chin, that’s suddenly far too tight and choking me, pulling the ribbed material away from my skin to allow some air in.
It’s insanely unfair the body this man has and the way I remember exactly how he used it to turn me into a puddle of goo. He left me so well-used and sexed up after that week together I could barely walk in a normal gait for days afterwards.
His throat clearing has me prying my eyes from his groin and focusing on his face.
Kellan’s thick, Swiss accent is deep and sexy. “No snow bunnies for me at the moment. Was rather hoping we could pick up where we left off.”
I shake my head. “No. I don’t sleep with clients.”
“I’m not your client yet.”
I extract the contract from the file I’d placed on the table and slide it over in front of him. “I hope to rectify that today. I’ve had the agreement drawn up, per your request on the one-year terms, and everything is ready for you to read and sign. Do you have any outstanding questions you’d like to ask while I’m here?”
Kellan drops his leg and reaches across the table, reaching not for the contract but grabs for my phone instead.
“What are you doing? Give me my phone back.” I scramble to reach for my phone but he’s too fast. So, I push my arm out in the air, palm up in a demand for my phone. Kellan simply turns in the chair toward the opposite wall and taps on my phone.
I fume. “Kellan, give me back my phone. What the hell are you looking for?”
It’s when he turns his head to the side and gives me that naughty smirk that I know exactly what he was in search of and exactly what he found.
I’d saved it in my collection of photos, producing it every time I felt horny or in need of a little inspiration. I’d go into my finger vault – the female equivalent of the spank bank – and retrieve this photo.
It was taken on the last night we spent together. It’s a picture of Kellan between my legs. The look on his face is pure sex. I didn’t need a dick pic of Kellan. I just wanted that memorable photo of his talented tongue ravishing my lady bits and the orgasmic sensations he produced while doing so.
It worked like a charm every stinking time.
