Lipstick Kisses : A Sexy, Standalone Contemporary Romance Page 2

  “Have you been here before?” I ask.

  “Nope,” Chandler says as he peruses the menu.

  “It’s one of my favorite places when I’m in the mood for Italian food.”

  “What do you recommend?” he asks.

  “Everything here is good. What are you in the mood for? I mean, what sounds good to you?” I rephrase my question, but it doesn’t go unnoticed. Chandler glances up at me with a wicked grin.

  My face flushes. I told you, this guy gets me going. My thoughts imagine what he looks like naked, and I bet he’s good in bed. I can just tell by looking at him and the way he carries himself. Why am I acting like such a man?

  “What are you thinking?” Chandler asks as he closes his menu and stares straight across the table at me.

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Because you’re blushing.”

  “I am not,” I deny, pressing my palm to my cheek to see if it’s warm.

  “Are you ready to order?” The perky waitress comes up to our table in the nick of time.

  “Yes, I will have the Caprese Salad and the Lobster Ravioli,” I stammer out quickly.

  “I’ll have the same,” Chandler says coolly.

  “You’re easy to please.” It rolls of my lips, and again, I stick my foot in my mouth.

  “That’s what they tell me,” he says with a wink.

  This guy unnerves me. I can’t go out with him again—mental note to self.

  “So, where do you live?” I ask. Now I sound like I want to go back to his place. Ugh . . .

  “In Venice Beach. How about you?” he asks, raising his eyebrows.

  “I have a townhome not far from here, but I’m in the process of looking for a new place closer to the ocean,” I reply.

  “I love living near the beach. They don’t have beaches in Montana,” he says.

  “My agent has me looking at homes in Malibu and the Pacific Palisades, but I’m leaning toward Malibu,” I say.

  “There’s nothing like living near the beach,” he says.

  As we finish dinner, I find that I enjoy Chandler’s company. He’s not just some airheaded model who’s all looks. Underneath his heart-stopping good looks lies a real person, a sincere person, a man who actually asks me questions about myself, not some egotistical guy who does all of the talking, mainly about himself.

  Chapter Two

  Chandler

  Today, I have a modeling gig with Lipstick Kisses. I’m a little late, as usual. Once I arrive, in walks Nikki Russo, owner of this booming cosmetic company, and at first, I’m taken aback.

  I expected her to be an older and more mature woman. After all, this is a big, thriving business.

  But the girl standing self-assuredly in front of me couldn’t be a day over twenty-five.

  Immediately, it fascinates and intrigues me that she’s so young and owns this company.

  After the initial shock, I find myself captivated by her understated style and beauty. She wears classic, stylish attire, not overly made-up like you would expect from a makeup heiress, but just enough to enhance her delicate features. She’s nothing like I would have expected, and I mean that in the best way possible.

  Why do I find myself wanting to get to know her better, as in much better?

  But she would never give a guy like me the time of day in any other situation. If I wasn’t pimping myself out as a model, our paths would never have crossed, but now that they have, I’m going for it.

  What do I have to lose?

  My guess is that Nikki probably only dates A-list, wealthy guys, the movers and the shakers in LA. With her beauty and her money, she probably has her pick of suitors.

  But she’s never met someone like me.

  I have it all packed in my low-slung jeans.

  I’m going to charm the panties off her.

  She doesn’t know what she’s been missing.

  Just you watch. Watch me work my charms on Miss Nikki Russo.

  Chapter Three

  Nikki

  Chandler invites me over for dinner at his place. He says he’s going to cook for me, and immediately, I’m impressed.

  I find my way to Venice Beach and park in the driveway of his modest bungalow. I can’t say when I was last here in this neck of the woods.

  I walk up to the front door, and it has a half-door. I can hear Can’t You See by the Marshall Tucker Band wafting through his bungalow.

  “Hello,” I call out.

  “Hey, Nikki, come on in. The door’s unlocked,” I hear Chandler call out from somewhere inside, but I don’t see him.

  I walk in, and he comes out from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel.

  “Hey there, gorgeous,” he says, walking up to me and giving me a warm, tight embrace followed by a firm kiss on the lips. I stiffen.

  “Relax, Nikki. Would you like some wine?” he offers.

  “Yes, that would be nice. I like your place,” I say, taking in the extensively remodeled 1920’s bungalow he calls home. Natural light filters in through the windows and the hardwood floors throughout make his home a warm and inviting.

  “Welcome to my humble abode. Would you like the Grand Tour?” he asks with a grin.

  We roam from room to room until he shows me his bedroom, the danger zone. Or the place where all the magic happens, right?

  I want this guy, and I know he wants me. Why else would he be inviting me over for dinner?

  “This is my room,” he says as we walk in.

  His eyes linger on mine, and I have to look away.

  “Nice,” I say, looking around his room. His bed is made and there’s minimal clutter. He’s pretty neat and tidy from what I can tell.

  He walks up to me. I still won’t look at him. I’m afraid he’s going to kiss me.

  “Relax, Nikki. I won’t bite, unless you want me to,” he says softly.

  “How about that wine?” I ask awkwardly as I turn and walk out of his room. What is it about this guy that has me unglued? I’m acting like I’m about sixteen years old.

  I hear him chuckle as he follows me out of his room and to the kitchen.

  We get into the kitchen, and he pours me a much-needed glass of wine. I need to settle my nerves. Then he starts working on dinner.

  “You really know your way around the kitchen. It’s very impressive,” I comment as I observe him move around his kitchen. I get to steal glances at his great ass in his faded blue jeans.

  “Why, thank you. I’ve enjoyed cooking since I was in high school. I would help my mom around the kitchen,” he says, pulling all the trimmings for the making of a salad out of the refrigerator.

  “How sweet. Do you have any brothers or sisters?” I ask.

  “I’ve got one little sister. How about you?”

  “I have two older brothers. I’m the baby,” I reply.

  “Are you close to them?” he asks.

  “Not really. They gave me a hard time growing up. They picked on me.”

  “Really? That’s not very nice. If you were my little sister, all I would want to do is protect you and look out for you,” Chandler says sweetly.

  “Yeah, well, not my brothers. Now, they’re just plain jealous of my success rather than being happy for me. What can you do? Family. You can’t choose your family,” I say wistfully.

  After dinner, we make it onto the sofa in his living room to relax. He leans over and starts kissing me. He’s one hell of a kisser, let me tell you.

  It’s getting pretty hot and heavy, and his kisses leave me deeply aroused.

  “Look, Chandler, I would love to fall into bed with you, but I won’t.”

  He says nothing, just runs his fingers lightly through my hair, his eyes questioning.

  “I won’t be another notch in your bedpost.”

  “In case you didn’t notice, I don’t have bedposts,” he replies with a wicked gleam in his eye.

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Do you know how gorgeous you are? Stunning in fact. From t
he moment we first met, I was captivated by your grace and beauty.”

  I just look into those eyes of his. What a sweet talker he is, a real charmer.

  “I need to get going.”

  “Must you?” he says before skimming my lips with his.

  “Yes,” I breathe.

  “Yes, what?” he says, tantalizing me—and he knows it.

  I place my hands on his thighs, and my eyes cast down and see his manhood straining against the zipper of his jeans.

  “Look, Chandler, I really need to go. Thanks for the scrumptious dinner. It was delicious.” I can see the rise and fall of his chest. He’s hot for me. I know that much. I start to stand. I really need to get the hell out of here before I do something I’ll regret later.

  He won’t get up off the sofa, but I get up to go in search of my purse. He finally stands and follows me as I head for the front door, where he stops me.

  “I will have you, Nikki,” he says, and I melt inside. I reach for the doorknob and open the door before he weakens my resolve. He follows me out to my car, and then he presses me against the driver’s side door.

  “Feel what you do to me, Nikki,” he taunts as he presses his steely shaft against my belly. Whoa. It’s hard, and it feels massive through his jeans! I should be running scared.

  “Chandler, please,” I whisper.

  “Please stay,” he whispers into my ear, then he dips down to kiss me lightly on my neck.

  “I need to get going. Goodnight,” I reply.

  God, how I want this man, more than I’ve wanted a man in a long, long time.

  He’s going to be trouble. I can tell.

  “When can I see you again?” he asks urgently.

  “Chandler, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  “Why?”

  “Just take my word for it.”

  “Look, Nikki, I know you want me.”

  “Yeah, the only problem is, so does every other hot-blooded female.”

  “What does that have to do with us? I want you, and I WILL have you,” Chandler promises.

  “Goodnight,” I reply with a quick kiss on his lips. I duck into my car, leaving him standing there as I back out of his driveway, making a quick getaway.

  But something tells me he isn’t going to be giving up that easily, and I secretly hope he doesn’t.

  *****

  I try to throw myself into work the next day. I desperately need a distraction from my lustful thoughts of Chandler last night. How I managed to show self-restraint is beyond me, but I’m thankful I did.

  Why do I feel like I could really fall for this guy? He’s totally different from the guys I normally go out with, which, Kelsey was quick to point out, hasn’t been working out too well for me. We’ve only been out twice. Get a grip, girl.

  “These just came for you,” Kelsey says, walking in with the most beautiful floral arrangement.

  “They’re lovely,” I gush. I haven’t received flowers in forever.

  “Open the card. Who are they from?” she asks.

  I reach for the card buried amongst the blooms.

  I will have you.

  “Who are they from?” Kelsey asks again, grabbing the card out of my hand before I can wrestle the card away from her.

  “Oh my God, that’s so hot,” Kelsey squeals. “Are these from Mr. Hottie himself? Damn, Nikki, you’re one lucky girl.”

  Kelsey’s so cute. She starts fanning herself with the card, and I can’t help smiling at her.

  “So you haven’t slept with him yet?”

  “No, of course not. We’ve only been out twice.”

  “Well, you will be soon, mark my words—and his, for that matter.” Kelsey giggles.

  “No!”

  “Why not? How can you possibly resist that kind of temptation? I sure as hell couldn’t. I wouldn’t. I told you before. Indulge, girl. You’re single. Then, please tell me all about it so I can live vicariously through you.” She roars in laughter.

  “Kelsey, you are a bad influence. Here lies my problem: I like him.”

  “How is that a problem?”

  “This guy is trouble—trouble for my heart. I don’t want to put it out there again.”

  “Throw caution to the wind and live, will you? You’re always so cautious with men, and look where it has gotten you. You’re gorgeous, successful and single.”

  “Thanks, Kelsey, but I just can’t do it. I refuse to be another notch in his bedpost or his flavor of the month. I’m so done with those types of men.”

  “Have you ever thought that maybe he really likes you?”

  “Doubt it. It’s a conquest thing.”

  My phone starts ringing, and I walk over to my desk to answer it.

  “Hey, gorgeous. Did you receive my flowers?”

  It’s Chandler’s sexy voice on the other end of the line, and I melt ever so slightly.

  “Yes, I did. Thank you. They’re lovely. That was a pretty bold comment you made in the card. Sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

  “Can I see you tonight?” he asks.

  “Kelsey read the card.”

  “Oh, sorry about that. How about tonight?”

  “No.”

  “I won’t wait long, Nikki. You might as well say yes now, or else I’m going to show up at your office and distract you from your ever-important makeup empire,” he presses.

  I cradle the phone to my ear as I gaze out my office window at the city skyline in the distance.

  “Hello, Nikki?”

  “Yes, I’m still here.”

  “How about this weekend then?”

  There is a long pause before I agree.

  “All right, Saturday then.”

  “I’ll come and pick you up. What’s your address?”

  “No, I will meet you somewhere.”

  “Nikki, don’t test me.”

  I acquiesce against my better judgment and tell him my address. Now I’ll have to clean up my place—another thing to add to my long to-do list.

  “See you Saturday,” I can hear his smile over the phone, and I can’t help smiling back.

  “Till Saturday.” And we hang up.

  Maybe I should think about taking Kelsey’s advice.

  Live a little, Nikki.

  Chapter Four

  Chandler

  I pick her up for dinner, and she has on a tight, sexy red dress with a neckline down to there, and the soft pillows of her breasts are begging to be set free. Damn. I rise to the occasion just seeing her in this dress.

  She’s dressed to kill—kill me, that is.

  “So, how did you start building your empire at such a young age? When I first laid eyes on Nikki Russo, owner of Lipstick Kisses, I was shocked by how young you were,” I ask, once we’re sitting at an intimate table for two by the window of the nicest restaurant in Beverly Hills. I called and asked my agent Caroline for a recommendation. I wanted to impress Nikki and take her someplace nice.

  She laughs softly. She looks beautiful by candlelight. I haven’t looked at a girl like this in ages. Nikki is real, not like some of these models I’ve been out with lately.

  “Well, I’ve always been into makeup since I was a young girl. You know, the typical little girl playing dress up. Prancing around in high heels, putting on makeup, wanting to be as glamorous and grown up as soon as possible. Typical girl, right?” She laughs, with the sweetest smile.

  “Nikki, you are far from the typical girl, I can assure you,” I reply.

  “Then, when I was in my teens, I started selling cosmetics at the swap meet, of all places. That’s where it all began for me. Then I went on to establish an online presence and made a brand name for myself. From there, it grew. I approached some department stores, and they were willing to carry my makeup line, and here I sit today.”

  I can hear the pride in her voice, and she should be proud. She has accomplished so much at a young age. And yet, she can still be so humble, so sweet, so real.

  “Wow, what an amazing story.
I love how driven yet down to earth you are. You haven’t let success turn you into a stuck-up princess,” I reply.

  “Really, you don’t think so? I’ve been accused of such, and much worse.”

  “I haven’t seen it. Not when you’re with me, not even that first time we met. You came across as business, yet warm and real at the same time. I knew I wanted to get to know you better. You fascinate me.” I tell her the truth. She actually blushes.

  “How about you? What brought you to LA?” she asks.

  “I wanted to see what the California beaches looked like. I came, fell in love with the beaches, and decided to stay for a while,” I reply, not offering any more.

  “Must be nice to be so carefree,” she says.

  “It is. You ought to try it sometime. It’s quite liberating.”

  “I’ve been living in LA for too long. I’m tightly wound from years of living in this big city. I don’t know anything else.”

  “Do you ever take a vacation?” I ask.

  “Vacation? What’s that?” She laughs, rolling her eyes.

  “When was the last time you went on a vacation?” I ask, this girl needs one badly.

  “Honestly, I can’t even remember. Oh no, wait. It was to Hawaii two summers ago,” she says as a wistful expression passes across her beautiful face.

  “Who did you go with?” I ask. Maybe I can find out some history here.

  “My fiancé at the time,” she freely volunteers.

  “Oh, so you’ve been engaged before?” Interesting, but not surprising.

  “Yes, I’m sorry to say I have been. Once.”

  “What happened, if you don’t mind my asking?” I hope she’ll share with me.

  “I realized something wasn’t right about us together, and I broke it off,” she replies, leaving it vague.

  “Oh, I see,” I say, not wanting to pry any further. I take her answer at face value.

  “And what about you? You didn’t leave a girl back home pining for you? No, wait. With your looks, you probably left several girls back home,” she teases.

  “No, I can’t say that I did,” I reply.

  “Hmm, okay, I guess I’ll take your word for it,” she says, like she really isn’t buying it, but she will let it slide this time.