No Place Like You Read online

  She shrugged. He couldn’t help noticing that that did very nice things to her breasts in the scoop-neck tank she wore.

  “To be fair, neither did I. But from the way you’re staring at my boobs, I’m not alone in my lack of judgment. So, once again, why don’t we lack some judgment together?”

  Yes, please. No. Wait. He needed to think about that. Put the brakes on his cock, which was trying hard to take over all the thinking right now. Re-engage the brain. It was difficult. Very difficult. There were reasons he couldn’t sleep with her. He just couldn’t remember what they were right this second. “I just don’t think it’s that simple.” As much as certain body parts really, really wanted it to be.

  “Why not?”

  It was a reasonable question. If you looked at it from her perspective. The perspective of someone who’d decided they should start having sex.

  But someone was going to have to be sensible about this. It was clear Leah wasn’t going to be taking that role so, fuck it, it was going to have to be him. Right. Reasons why he shouldn’t do exactly what she—and his body—were suggesting. It was an effort to think of any. He had to wrestle with himself to get his brain back in control.

  “Well, the most important reason is that we’re working together.”

  “I think today proved that things can only improve in that department. And will only improve if we get this out of our systems.”

  “That’s not what I meant. It’s not just about us getting comfortable with working together. Sex complicates things. Sex with someone you’re working with never seems to end well.”

  “It only gets complicated if someone gets all mushy and emotional. Like, I said, I’m talking strictly no-strings here.”

  “There’s also the fact that you’re my sister’s best friend.”

  She shrugged. “Faith doesn’t need to know.”

  It was his turn to raise his eyebrows. “You and Faith tell each other everything.”

  “Not when it comes to me sleeping with you, we don’t.” Leah made a little “go on” gesture. “Next.”

  “Wait, you never told Faith? About before?”

  She pulled a horrified face. “No-ooooooo.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you were gone. And she went with you. By the time she came back, I didn’t think there was much to tell. You were clearly not coming back. She had enough to deal with.” She hitched a shoulder. “Besides, I was fine. Back then I knew what I was asking for. Just like I do now.”

  She sounded so certain. And there wasn’t even a trace of doubt in her eyes. But for some reason he didn’t quite believe her. Which meant the only choice he had was to say “no.”

  “I’m sorry. I think we need to keep this simple, so no.”

  He thought she’d flinch. Maybe get mad. But instead her eyes just widened briefly, then narrowed. Her chin came up.

  “If that’s what you want,” she said and then moved around him to walk away.

  * * *

  On Sunday night, Leah sat on the Harpers’ beach, staring at the sinking sun and the path of gold the light painted over the water, and wondered if maybe she could just start swimming toward the horizon and find a boat out there to carry her off somewhere exotic. Exotic and one hundred percent free of Zach Harper.

  She dug her fingers into the sand, curling them hard to dig in. She’d just spent the best part of an hour swimming in the surf and the breeze was enough to chill her as she sat there, wrapped in a towel, hair still wet but her stupid stupid body still burned with a heat that would probably give the sun a run for its money.

  It was downright embarrassing. Or horrifying might be the better word. The past three days had been both those things. She had no one to blame but herself for that, of course. She’d been the one who’d marched right on up to Zach and propositioned him. It appeared to be a habit of hers. One she was never ever going to indulge again. The first time she’d done it, she’d half-expected him to say “no,” and he’d surprised her with “yes.” This time, it hadn’t really crossed her mind that the reverse might happen, but it had. He’d said “no” and she’d left.

  And then, because she wasn’t going to compound her mistake by letting it ruin the other thing she wanted from him—a big fat producing credit—she’d spent fifteen hours a day with him, doing her best to convince him, and herself, that she’d never asked and that nothing had changed. She’d been so goddamn friendly and professional that it made her teeth ache.

  The trouble was that her teeth weren’t the only things aching. Her body, it seemed, didn’t care about humiliating rejections. It still wanted him. A little bit more every time he opened his damn mouth and sang. He wasn’t singing to her. But her body didn’t give a damn about that either. He opened his mouth and that voice rolled over her and all she wanted to do was roll over for him. Gah.

  So much for his stupid theory that whatever it was between them would wear off. It wasn’t. It was getting worse. At least, for her it was. And, if she was honest, she thought it might be for him too. She’d caught him looking at her more than once. Caught him being careful to leave a little more space than a man who was completely indifferent to her might leave, stepping away if he noticed he’d gotten too close. Which seemed to happen quite often. They drifted toward each other without thinking. Then one of them would notice and pull away, and they’d both go back to pretending everything was perfectly normal until they drifted in again. It was a ridiculous dance that had wound her tighter and tighter with every repeat of its steps. Until she’d been driven here to the beach to try and work off some of the excess energy driving her crazy. It hadn’t worked.

  But he’d turned her down and she wasn’t going to be the one to ask again.

  She’d rather die of frustration. Or you know, flee the island. Whatever worked.

  The sun was slipping lower and her stomach rumbled suddenly. If she couldn’t have Zach, then maybe the answer was to do some good old-fashioned comfort eating.

  She dropped the towel briefly to reach for her big-ass bag and then performed some gymnastics after wrapping the towel bag around herself to ditch her bikini and put her underwear, bra, and dress back on. There was no view of this particular part of the beach from the big house and there was no light on at Mina’s cottage, which meant Mina was probably with Will, but she was damned if she was going to risk Zach suddenly strolling down the beach path to find her half naked.

  Armor—or clothes at least—back in place, she marched back up the path. When she reached the edge of the gardens, she hesitated. The most direct route to the spot on the long drive where she’d left her bike earlier went past Zach’s guesthouse. She’d been a wimp and gone the long way around earlier after she biked over from the studio an hour after Zach had left for the day. But now she was hungry and well, screw it. If she was supposed to be acting like she was perfectly fine with how things were between her and Zach, then there was no reason to avoid walking past the damn guesthouse.

  Except, when she got there, Zach was sitting on the front step, a beer in his hand. His brows shot up when he saw her.

  “Been for a swim?” he called.

  She nodded, tightening her grip on her bag, determined to just keep walking. But then he held out a beer.

  “How about a beer?” he asked. He reached down beside his feet and drew a bottle out from a pack she hadn’t noticed before at his feet. Held it out to her.

  It was a perfectly casual question. No reason why she wouldn’t have a beer with him at the end of a long few days of hard work. Unless she had a problem with him. Which she did. But she couldn’t let him see that.

  She bit back the curses that rose on her tongue and walked over, taking the proffered beer then retreating a few steps back. She dumped her bag on the ground and opened the beer, trying not to think about how they were now standing in almost exactly the same position as they had been a few days ago.

  “How was the water?” Zach said, after a moment.

  She shrug
ged. “Nice. No swell though, if you were thinking of going down later.”

  He twisted a little to look at the sky, now turning orange and pink and red. “Bit late for that.”

  She sipped the beer. It was cold and tangy and good but didn’t offer much distraction from the fact she’d rather be anywhere but here. She’d just have to drink fast and leave. She tipped the bottle—and her head—back and drank some more.

  “Thirsty?” Zach asked, looking somewhat amused when she lowered the bottle again.

  “Too much salt water,” she said. “You know how it is.” As excuses went, it wasn’t her greatest effort ever but it was better than admitting she felt terminally awkward.

  Zach blinked slowly, his eyes steady on her. “Yes, I do know how it is.”

  Something rumbled through his words. Something low and raspy and not quite casual. Something that made her think he wasn’t talking about salt water and beer. The thought made her freeze and she couldn’t think of anything to say. She was imagining things. Her overactive hormones were making her read something that couldn’t possibly be there into what he’d said. And she wasn’t going to make a fool of herself again.

  “So are you happy with how things are going?” Zach asked after a long pause. He put his beer down on the step.

  She made herself smile. Made herself take a breath before she answered, so that her voice would be normal and calm. “Yes. I am.” She hesitated. “Why? Aren’t you?” Now there was a thought that hadn’t occurred to her. She’d been so busy being the perfect “nothing to see here, move right along” professional producer over the last few days that she hadn’t stopped to really talk to him about the results they were getting. Of course, it was early days and if he’d hated it, surely he would have—

  “Yes,” he said, cutting off her rapidly spiraling thoughts. “We work well together.”

  She avoided sighing in relief only with an effort of will. “Yes, we do,” she said, a little too cheerfully.

  “But—”

  “There is a but?” she squeaked, unable to stop herself. Crap, was he going to fire her?

  Zach stood, walked down the stairs toward her. “Maybe,” he said.

  That was hardly reassuring. “What—”

  He moved a step closer, stepping inside the boundaries of what would be considered by any sane person to be personal space, and the words died in her throat. Her heart began to thump. Zach. So close. Why was he so close?

  “There’s still our other problem,” he said, staring down at her. In the sunset light, he was outlined in gold like a painting of some ancient god. As if she needed anything to make him look any better to her.

  “‘Other problem?’” she managed.

  He nodded. “The one you brought up the other night.”

  “The one you said would go away?” she asked. She should step back from him. Out of reach. It was what a smart person would do. Yet, she couldn’t have moved if she tried. She stayed right where she was, every inch of her waiting for his answer.

  “Yes. That one.” One side of his mouth quirked suddenly. “It seems I was wrong about that.”

  Wait, what? Was he saying what she thought he was saying? She stared up at him, suddenly dizzy. Maybe she’d fallen down on the beach and bumped her head and she was dreaming this whole conversation. There was a pulse throbbing between her legs now in time with the too hard beat of her heart. “What exactly are you saying, Zach?” He needed to say it this time. He needed to be the one who asked.

  “I was wondering if you might let me change my answer? In relation to the whole hot and sweaty sex thing.”

  Yes. She wanted to scream it. But no, she was going to hold onto some last shred of sanity. “I believe my proposal was hot and sweaty and no-strings sex,” she said. She wanted him. She wanted him more than she wanted to breath right now, but she wasn’t going to give in to anything more than wanting him.

  He nodded. “Yes, that. Yes to whatever you want. Just, yes, Leah.”

  She could feel the tension in him, feel the heat of him standing so close. Could feel that he was holding himself back. That he wouldn’t touch her unless she said so. The sensation made her giddy. Giddier. “A sensible woman would, at this point, make you grovel a little.”

  He smiled at that. Then his face turned serious again. “I’ll grovel. I’m more than happy to kneel at your feet. Whatever it takes. Whatever you want.”

  The mental image set her alight. He had shown her he was good with his tongue on that long ago night. And the memory meant she couldn’t answer with anything other than the truth. “I want you,” she said.

  “Thank God for that,” he said, voice full of naked relief that only made her burn hotter. His hands landed on her waist, tugging her a little closer.

  She stared up at him. “We’re really doing this?”

  He nodded. “Yes. Even though it’s probably still a bad idea.” His fingers tightened on her waist.

  “You keep saying that. But here we are,” Leah said. “And I don’t care.” Damn. He was even prettier up so close. She remembered the last time she’d been this close to him. That night had ended in heartbreak, but there’d been some truly excellent orgasms before that point. And she was older and wiser now and determined to be heartbreak-proof. She knew exactly what she was getting into and exactly what she wanted. Which was Zach. And some more of those excellent orgasms. As many as she could get while he was here. Starting right now, or her lady parts were going to explode from frustration.

  She ran her tongue over her bottom lip, watched his eyes shift and focus on her mouth. Yeah, he didn’t care either. “Are you still leaving once this album is done?”

  “Yes.” His voice was low, but it was certain.

  So she had to remember exactly how he sounded when he said it. Keep it on repeat in the back of her head in case her emotions tried to get stupid. He was leaving. But he was here right now. And he wanted her.

  “Good,” she said, rising on her toes and putting her arms around his neck. “Then this is the same deal as last time. I want you. I know it’s temporary. We don’t have a problem.”

  “Easy for you to say,” he said as she tilted her hips forward.

  Oh yeah. Right there. Hot, hard, Zach. This is what she wanted.

  “New rule,” she said. “Less with the talking. This is simply sex. The only talking we need is to ask for instruction.” She didn’t want to talk. Talking came with thinking. There was nothing to think about. She wanted him. She was going to have him. Consequences be damned.

  “What makes you think I need instruction?” Zach said. “I don’t remember you having issues last time.” He grinned down at her, the curve of his mouth making her water. She wanted to sink her teeth into that lip, wanted to taste him. “And I’ve learned stuff since then.”

  “So have I,” she said. “So maybe we won’t need to talk at all.”

  “You know, this is not exactly what I expected to be doing tonight,” he said.

  “Me neither. But you’re still talking. Maybe I need to try harder to distract you?” She swayed her hips again, grinding a little against him and batted her eyelashes.

  “If you try much harder, I may just spontaneously combust,” Zach said. His right hand splayed over her back, yanking her closer. “God, Leah.”

  “Still talking,” she said, feeling a little breathless herself. “Here, I’ll make it easy for you.” And she closed the gap between him. Hip to hip. Chest to chest. Mouth to perfect mouth.

  Ah. She nearly purred with satisfaction as he kissed her back, began to work some of that Zach Harper magic.

  She opened her mouth to him, let him in. His tongue touched hers, the taste of him, flooding her tongue, so startlingly familiar that she gasped.

  Zach.

  She’d dreamed about these kisses over the years. Now there was a guilty little secret. That sometimes she woke sweaty and aching—or worse sweaty and actually coming—from the tangled memories of her night with Zach. Why couldn’t s
he have normal weird sex dreams about some celebrity that she didn’t even like in real life? But no, she had Zach in her head. It had even happened a few times during her marriage, though she’d never have told Joey. Not in a million, billion years.

  So. She had the man of her dirty dreams back in her arms. Kissing her wildly. She could feel the ache burning fiercer between her legs, feel how hot he was making her with just his kisses. So there was only one thing left to do. And that was have sex with him as many times as possible until this stupid annoying crush died from sheer exhaustion. Or boredom. Whatever. As long as it died so that when Zach left the island again, she was free to move on to whoever actually was Mr. Right.

  They were moving now as they kissed, Zach half-steering them. Up the stairs. Through the front door. Partway down the hall. At first she thought he might be aiming for his bedroom but then her back hit the wall with a thud and she smiled through their kisses. Oh yes. Hot wild crazy sex. That was what she wanted.

  She didn’t wait for any encouragement, just hooked one leg around his hip and started pushing his T-shirt up. Zach helped her out, pulling it over his head. Which left her hands free to deal with his buttons instead. Who even wore button-fly jeans anymore? Such a rock star cliché.

  But, she had to admit, they did make things easier, and presumably were less hazardous to sensitive male anatomy if one was about to have crazy wall sex while still partially clothed.

  She’d also never been quite so thankful that she’d worn a dress today.

  She took care of the last of the buttons, and Zach helped her by pulling his underwear out of her way. When her hand closed around his cock, he groaned.

  The noise went straight to her loins, every part of her that wasn’t already ready and waiting melting with lust.