“When I find time, yeah. I prefer running outside, but when we’re on tour I have to take advantage of the hotel gyms.”
“I run outside too. Running on a treadmill is not the same thing.” She nods and offers me a half smile and my breath leaves me. Samantha Williams is beautiful, with her light blonde hair and big blue eyes, but when she smiles, she could make the gods weep.
I might have to write a song about her smile.
“I usually run in the mornings before the city wakes up,” she adds and I frown down at her.
“Where do you live?” I ask.
“Downtown,” she replies vaguely.
“Downtown in which city?” I ask with growing impatience.
“Seattle,” she responds and scowls at me. “Why?”
I have to take a deep breath before I yell at her. “Do you mean to tell me that you run in downtown Seattle in the early morning? Do you have a partner?”
“Yes, I run in the early morning. Alone.”
I shake my head and run my hands down my face, trying to push down this sudden need to protect this little spitfire.
“That’s dangerous,” I mutter.
“What, are you gonna be my bodyguard, Mr. Famous Rockstar?” She asks, her voice heavy with sarcasm, and I can’t help but laugh at her. She’s funny, and smart.
“Actually, yeah, I think I will.” Well, that wipes the smirk off her face, and she flounders for a second, her mouth dropping open and then closed, not sure what to say, until finally she pulls herself together and eyes me warily.
“Sure. Okay, you wanna run with me, that’s fine. But I won’t slow my pace for you, just so you know. You’ll have to keep up.”
“Okay.” I smile at her softly and inch closer to her.
“I usually run at 6:00 a.m., but,” she loses her train of thought as her eyes settle on my lips, on my piercing. Yeah, she likes the tats and the metal.
And I like her. A lot.
“But?” I prompt her.
“Huh?” She looks up into my eyes, and then clears her throat and I can’t stop the wide grin on my face as I watch her cheeks redden. “But since I don’t have to be at work anymore, I figured I’d run at about seven. Is that too early for you? I figure you probably go to bed around that time.”
“No, I’m a morning person,” I run my finger down her cheek, happy that this time she leans into me rather than flinch. “I’ll be at your place at seven. Text me your address.”
“I don’t have your number,” she whispers.
“I have yours,” I murmur. “I’ll text you so you have mine.”
“Why do you have my number?” Her eyes are back on my mouth now, our breathing ragged.
“I asked Meg for it. I was going to call you to check on your car.”
“Oh.”
She licks her lips and I can’t stand it anymore. I cup her smooth neck in my hand, my thumb firmly planted on her chin, and nibble the side of her mouth, sweep across those plump, pink lips and nibble the other side and wonder if the lips of her * are this pink.
She sighs with a low moan as I sink into her, persuading her mouth open with my tongue and enjoy her. She’s sexy sunshine and I soak her in, enjoying every breath, every tentative flick of her tongue against mine.
She grips onto my hips, anchoring herself against me, and I wrap my other arm around the small of her back, pulling her tightly against me.
Her nipples pucker against my chest and I grin as I slow the kiss down, rub my nose on hers, and kiss her forehead, still holding her.
“What was that?” she whispers.
“If you have to ask, I didn’t do it right.”
She chuckles, leans her forehead against my sternum and then leans back to look up at me.
She’s so small.
“You know what I mean.”
I shrug, suddenly uncomfortable. All the men just inside the house would kick my ass if they saw me holding her, kissing the shit out of her, and I couldn’t blame them.
But I can’t seem to stay away from her.
“You’re kissable.”
“There you are!”
We jump apart guiltily at the sound of Meg’s voice in the doorway. She’s smiling happily, not at all angry for finding me in a compromising position with her friend, and I exhale in relief.
“Dinner’s ready,” Meg tells us.
“Good, I’m starving.” I wink at Sam, enjoying the blush on her cheeks. “Seven tomorrow.”
“Seven,” she murmurs as I saunter inside, looking forward to tomorrow.
Chapter Two
Samantha
I plug my earphones into my ears, que up the playlist that I’ve titled sweat on my iPhone and tuck it into my bra, pin my condo key in there as well so it doesn’t fall through my cleavage and pull my front door closed behind me. I’m in black yoga pants, a pink tank and a light pink hoodie to ward off the chilly Seattle winter day. I’ve already stretched, so it’s time to run and clear my head.
As I jog down the stairs, rather than take the elevator, I can’t help but think of Leo. I knew he wouldn’t show up this morning to run. Who the hell was he kidding last night? And what in the name of Moses was up with him kissing me like that?
It’s best if I just forget all about that kiss and focus on finding a job.
I jog through the lobby of my building and wave at Frank the doorman; turn left on the sidewalk and set out, Adam Levine’s smooth voice heavy in my ears, asking me to give him one more night.
No problem, Adam.
Suddenly, there’s movement on my right and I startle, my heart climbs into my throat and I let out a yelp and stumble. Strong hands grip my upper arms, keeping me upright, and I look up into humor-filled gray eyes.
“What the hell?” I stammer and pull the plugs out of my ears.
“I told you I’d meet you this morning.”
“I didn’t think you’d show,” I respond and resume running, tucking my ear buds in my bra.
“Interesting storage system you have there,” Leo remarks with a grin, blatantly looking down at my breasts and I can’t help but laugh with him.