why I’d kept myself and my interest away from Sydney.
My control had slipped briefly the night of the last book signing after we had dinner. Hearing her talk about herself and her not wanting me to judge her, I’d found myself in front of her with my lips on hers.
Thankfully, I’d gotten ahold of myself and my desire and been able to walk away. I had known I owed her some explanation, but I’d been putting it off. And I’d been shocked when she hadn’t asked me about it or started stalking me.
I’d once met a woman on the road and shared a kiss with her—a kiss, nothing more—before I called a halt to going further. I found her attractive but felt nothing when our lips touched. After I went home, she liked and commented—multiple times—on every Instagram post I made. She would get mad when I didn’t comment or like back. She started messaging me to tell me what an asshole I was for avoiding her. I’d had to unfollow her and eventually block her.
My friends had told me that the woman had done a number on me. I always shrugged it off as part of dating, but I was beginning to realize that the woman, someone I’d just met, really affected how I saw the opposite sex now.
Sydney stepped away from me. “I think I did it.” She nodded toward the mirror. “Take a look.”
I stood and looked at my reflection. I moved my head from side to side to get as much of a profile shot as I could.
She wrinkled her nose. “You can kind of see the bump still, but at least it’s not purple.”
I leaned back to get a wider view. “I’m just glad you could do it without putting makeup on my whole face.” I shuddered.
“Because it’s too girlie?”
“I couldn’t care less about that. It’s because it’s too cakey. I feel like my skin is suffocating. I had to wear it once for a photo shoot, and I said never again.” I turned and looked at her. “I like the natural look.”
She blushed, and I cupped the back of her head and pulled her close to kiss her.
She really did that well. She put her whole being into her kisses. It made me want to get inside her all over again.
She’d had to go up on her tiptoes to reach my mouth, and she now put her heels back on the floor. “We should probably get ready.”
I pulled on her robe. “Do we have to?”
She walked behind me and started pushing me out the door. “Yes. There are women waiting to meet your fine ass.”
I turned once we were past the doorway. “What are you? My pimp?”
“Hmm.” She tapped her chin and dropped her hand. “Yes. Yes, I think I am.”
“Okay. But I’m not having sex with anyone, for you to charge them and keep all the money,” I said as I started for my room.
“So, you’re saying you want to split it?”
I did a one-eighty and walked backward. “Ha-ha. No.” I spun back around and kept going. “But, if you did put a price on me, you’d have to charge them five hundred dollars.”
“Five hundred dollars? Someone thinks mighty highly of himself.” She yelled the last part because I was now in my room.
I stuck my head back into hers. “Did you or did you not come multiple times?”
She swallowed and lifted her chin. “I might have had an orgasm or two.”
I laughed. “Liar. I should be charging you a thousand. You’re lucky you got all this for free.” I pointed to myself.
She rolled her eyes, but I caught a hint of a smile. “Go get dressed, Travis.”
Twenty-Four
Sydney
Travis and I walked into the back of the hotel restaurant that was reserved for parties and banquets. It was filled with people standing around, talking and drinking.
“Hello,” a cheerful middle-aged woman greeted us at the door. “Can I get your names?”
“I’m Sydney Hart.”
The woman, whose name tag said Donna, looked down at her clipboard and smile. “Here you are.” She made a mark on her sheet of paper and then looked up at Travis. “And you, young man?”
“Travis Zehler.”
Donna went through the same process. “I found you. You were in a different section.” She made another mark and looked up at us. “We have authors, VIP readers, assistants, and models. It would have been easier to put everyone together.” She threw her hands up. “But I didn’t print the list.”
I didn’t know what to say,