Million Dollar Marriage - Katy Evans Page 0,15

For someone I thought was so dirty, he smells really good.

And the thoughts he conjures up in my head? Beyond dirty. I can’t help it. He looks like something I’d want to eat with a spoon.

He snakes an arm around me. All that hardness ends up wrapped around me in a tight little package. “Fancy meeting you here, Penny.”

Every pore on my skin seems to rejoice from his touch, pricking with arousal.

I refuse to let that continue.

I scowl at him as the rest of the people line up. “Don’t call me that. No one ever calls me that.”

I try to nudge him away, but that’s impossible without actually touching him, which I’ve sworn not to do. The staff members seem intent on squeezing us together like sardines. They keep motioning us to squish closer. His arm drapes over me, and I press against his hard pectoral. I feel the heat of his bare chest, even through my T-shirt.

The photographer is looking through his viewfinder. “You know, all of you, kind of turn to the side a little so we all fit.”

We do. Now he’s behind me. The heat from his body is making me dizzy. “I’m Luke,” he whispers in my ear, and I do my best not to concentrate on every inch of hard, naked flesh . . .

Don’t care. Don’t care. Don’t . . . oh my god. I suddenly feel something twitch behind me.

Is that his cock, pressing against the small of my back?

I shove forward into the Asian dude in front of me and let out a gasp as I lose my balance and nearly tumble off the riser. Two massive hands grasp my arms, hauling me back onto steady ground before I can make the plunge and knock everyone else down like bowling pins.

“Steady.” I look up, and he’s giving me this cocky grin. Eyes almost feral and catlike, with thick, dark lashes. He has very white, straight teeth for a man so dirty. I wiggle my arm so he’ll release it, and he does, but slowly, his fingers lingering there.

My knees weaken. I feel this odd sensation, like he’s branded me. No man’s touch has ever done that to me.

But he’s him. And I’m me.

And never should the two of us come together. It’s insane. It’d totally upset the laws of the universe.

Finally, the photographer snaps the pictures he needs. I hold my breath almost the whole time.

“Now, I’m warning you all,” Eloise calls to everyone as we step down from the risers. “Don’t wear anything that doesn’t wash well. The first challenge is going to be a little dirty.”

Dirty? Ugh. I hate dirty.

But then I look at Luke, walking away from me. No, strutting away from me, like he knows he owns the whole damn room. With a spring in his step, he reaches down and picks up his shirt. I can’t stop staring at the way the tattoos dance across his perfect, tan, muscle-bound back.

And I think I might not hate dirty as much as I once did.

Luke

My ideal woman? Shit, who knows? All I know is I haven’t met her yet. I ain’t met a single girl who’s made me say, “Yeah, I want to have that in my life forever.” Haven’t even come close.

—Luke’s Confessional, Day 1

I don’t know if alliances are important in this thing, but I’ve got them.

I’ve always been good at making friends. Filming hasn’t even started, and I’ve already got an understanding with Ivy, the blonde bodybuilder; one with Michael, the IT kid; and in a foursome with a bunch of athletic guys who look like the “cool kids.” We’ve made a pledge to help each other out until the end. Add that to my in with the executive producer, and I think I’m in pretty good shape. I’ll add a few more.

Like Penny.

Or . . . not.

She likes to run in the opposite direction now. But when I was close to her a minute ago, she couldn’t hide the way her body reacted to mine any more than I could hide the way my cock thickened for her. The little girl had goose bumps everywhere, even on those cute little freckles of hers.

We line up again to go into the next room, girls on one side, guys on the other. “All right,” one of the staff members announces, walking up and down the aisle. “This isn’t live television, but we’re shooting it all in one take, so no language. No nudity. Keep it clean, folks.

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