We settled into the heavenly mattress, our limbs tangled together under the bedsheets as I ran my hand along the soft skin on the inside of his arm.
He was staring at me, his face half-buried in the pillow. “I can’t believe you’re really going to stay here. Isn’t there anything I can say to change your mind?”
My chest was still heaving as I tried to catch my breath. I nuzzled into his neck, shivering at the brush of stubble that tickled my lips. The truth was, all I really wanted was to curl up in that man’s bed and stay there forever.
I slowly pushed myself up and straddled his lap, peering down at him while he offered me his most lethally persuasive glare with those potent blue eyes of his—eyes that I was virtually powerless to deny.
I shifted my attention to take in the room we had all but ignored in our frantic dance to make it to the bed.
My jaw dropped.
The room was ginormous. That bedroom alone was probably two times larger than my entire apartment in the city, and decorated a hundred times better. The Wilmingtons’ Beverly Hills hotel was way more relaxed and inviting than their über-hip Times Square property. Less mod; more island. Rustic wood furnishings contrasted against pale cream walls with the perfect kisses of Wilmington Blue in the patterned fabric of the upholstered furniture, pillows, and curtains. Along one wall, floor to ceiling windows showcased the Los Angeles skyline at night, a breathtaking array of bright lights in darkened skyscrapers against an almost amethyst sky.
I looked down at Trip. “I’m in L.A.,” I said in awe.
He grinned cautiously and nodded.
I glanced back up, scanned the room again, then collapsed on top of him. “Holy shit! I’m in L.A. I’m really here.”
Trip’s arms wrapped around me, his hands gently stroking up and down my back. His voice rumbled through his chest. “You’re where you’re supposed to be, Lay.”
I buried my face in his chest and fought the wave of disbelief washing over me. “A week ago, I was Layla Warren, self-employed writer, living in her childhood bedroom in Norman, New Jersey. You were nothing more than a late-night fantasy, and a crazy day was a visit from Lisa and the kids.”
I rested my chin on his chest and looked up at him. “Now I’m in the penthouse suite of the Beverly Hills TRU. Naked, mind you, in one of the most comfortable beds I’ve ever felt, with one of the biggest movie stars the world has ever seen.”
I hesitated, mentally reminding myself of my new pledge to verbally vomit, then went for it. “Also one of the world’s biggest playboys.”
His mouth opened, then closed. I squeezed my eyes shut and burrowed into him, wishing I could ignore the insecurity I had thus far managed to keep at bay.
It was impossible to avoid the numerous reports about the many, many women who had been “guests” at his home over the years. Not to mention an ex-fiancée who had actually lived there. I could only assume that Trip had seen more action in that house than Hef did in the Playboy Mansion.
Okay, maybe not more than Hef.
It had better not be more than Hef.
His arms tightened, and he whispered against my hair. “You know they meant nothing to me. You know I’ve spent the last fifteen years pining away for some infuriating chick I met back in high school.”
I smiled slightly. “But you were engaged. To a freaking Victoria’s Secret Angel, Trip. She had to mean something.”
He pressed soft kisses along my hair and jaw. “She was just a placeholder until you were finally able to figure out how awesome I was.”
I sputtered out a laugh, then slapped his chest. He grabbed my arm and slid his hand to my cheek, tilting my face to look at him. “She wasn’t you, Lay. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
I stared into his blue eyes, taking in the devotion brimming from their depths. I swallowed past the lump in my throat and nodded.
He brushed a soft kiss against my lips, but I soon pulled away. “Give me a few days, okay? Let’s catch our breath. You’ve just come back from your father’s funeral. I’m twenty-five-hundred miles away from the only home I’ve ever known, with a man I never thought I’d ever see again. I just need a minute to wrap my head around all of this. A few days, and then I’ll gladly stay with you.”
He nodded, giving me a deep, toe-curling kiss to let me know he understood, no hard feelings. Then he shifted my body off of him and got out of the bed.
“Hey! That didn’t mean you had to leave now!”
A grin spread across his lips. “Yes, it does. Otherwise certain body parts are going to get way too happy to have a naked you against them, and then it will start all over again, and the next thing you know, it’s morning.” He gestured below his waist to my favorite body part. Sure enough, it was waking up and taking notice.