The Unidentified Redhead (Redhead #1)(63)
Author: Alice Clayton

What, do you think he had no relationships before you?

No.

Do you think he came out of a box like that, just for you?

No.

You have a helluva past. Do you want to be judged on that?

NO.

Then f**king grow a set and ask him! Or shut up about it. You’re leaving in three days. You want to spend it talking about some ex snatch of his?

Wow, my inner monologues were getting decidedly nastier.

After my run, I went for a swim, worked on a project for a client that I was almost finished with, and watched some reality TV. I kept busy.

About five-thirty, I got a text from Jack.

Hey, up for a drink?

Some of the cast and crew from the shoot are meeting for a drink in the hotel bar.

Yes? Say yes, Grace.

I texted him back.

Yes, Grace.

He quickly responded.

See you in an hour.

Then, room service … me …

and all the pounding you can handle.

Say yes, Grace.

I texted back.

Yes, yes, yes, please.

I was not too proud.

When he got back, he sent me a text, and I met him downstairs. I saw Lane and Rebecca and a few other people from the shoot, including the photographer.

I went up to Jack, who was at the bar, with his back to me. “Are you Joshua?” I asked, in a timid voice. He turned around with a resigned look, until he saw me.

“Not funny, love.” He frowned, but then pulled me into a kiss so passionate it literally swept me off my feet. He actually picked me up. Nice. I heard Lane wolf whistling behind me.

I kissed him back feverishly, pressing myself against him, letting him feel my br**sts under my thin cotton shirt. I got a reaction instantly. I loved tasting the beer and the whiskey in his hot mouth.

“Get me a shot will you?” I asked, pulling away and nodding to the bar.

“You want a shot?” he asked. He knew I rarely did shots.

“Yep,” I answered, rubbing my gloss off his lips.

Lane mouthed the word “drilling” at me from behind Jack. I rolled my eyes at him and gave him an obscene gesture involving my tongue and cheek.

He laughed aloud.

“OK, here ya go,” he consented, handing me a shot and taking his own in hand. I winked at him and tossed it back. It burned, and I made the most awful face, which almost made him spit his out.

We found seats with the rest of his group, and he introduced me to some of the other cast members, including the woman I had overheard on the phone earlier.

“So sorry about that. Jack sure was irritated with me over that little slip,” she said, shaking my hand and introducing herself as Bailey. She played Joshua’s sister in the film.

“No worries.” I smiled evenly.

“No, really, I felt like such an ass. Although I can tell you, I’ve never seen Jack so worked up over a girl the way he is with you.” She smiled sincerely, and I felt my stomach unwind a bit. Jack winked at me from across the booth, and I shamelessly blew him a kiss.

We hung out in the bar for almost two hours, laughing and talking. I thoroughly enjoyed spending time with people from Jack’s other life. I real y liked Rebecca. She congratulated me on the show in New York, and she promised she would do her best to keep the ladies away from him as much as possible. That chick was damn funny, and she didn’t let Jack give her any shit, which I loved.

He was in his element with this group, telling stories and cracking everyone up with his Brit wit.

And Lane? Well, Lane was a dear. He was funny and sweet and so pretty.

He was just great—a really great guy.

One shot turned into two, and then two into three, and when you added the dirty martini that I had sucked down, I was feeling no pain. The photographer was still there, and as I got tipsier, I got friendlier as well. I had started out the evening sitting next to Jack, and by the time I noticed it was already after eight o’clock, I was sitting fully in his lap, his arms wrapped around me tightly, and I was trying to get him to suck the pimento out of the olive from my cocktail. I happened to be holding the olive between my teeth. The photographer saw this as a perfect opportunity to get some candids, and away he clicked.

Jack saw I’d had enough to drink, so he complied with my pimento request because he knew I wouldn’t let it go. Once he completed this task and Rebecca and I stopped laughing, the photographer insisted on getting one of the two us, just smiling at each other. I realized that I had no pictures of the two of us that were not on TMZ, and suddenly all I wanted was that shot, one great shot to take with me to New York.

We posed a little, making it fun, and the last click of his camera got one of us looking straight into the lens, pressed together, me still sitting on his lap.

Once taken, I yawned suddenly, and Jack took notice. He leaned in and whispered to me, “Hey, Nuts Girl, let’s get out of here. I need some quiet time alone with you. I missed my girl today.” He kissed my neck, and I shivered.

I put my mouth next to his ear, and whispered, “I had a drink. I had several, in fact. Now let’s go back to the room so you can f**k me six ways from Sunday.” Of course, I hadn’t whispered as quietly as I thought I did, and everyone at the table heard it. Loud giggling broke out all around.

He stared at me, the green darkening in the most wicked way, and then quickly threw a handful of cash down on the table. “‘Night all.” He grinned and hurriedly helped me up.

“See ya!” I said, giving a sloppy high five to Rebecca as Jack walked me quickly from the bar, leaving everyone to stare after us with amused looks on their faces.

“I freaking love her,” I heard Rebecca say as we walked out.

We walked through the gardens toward our cottage, tiki torches lighting our way, and at some point I decided it would be a good idea to jump on his back and make him carry me, piggyback style. I kissed his neck as we walked and squeezed him between my legs—which wasn’t a good idea, because he’d just run his hands up my legs and almost under my shorts, when a group of women, about my age or maybe a little older, walked by on their way toward the restaurant. They stared at me, on the back of this very young and very hot guy, with his hands all over me, and they looked impressed.

They smirked at me, and one of them actually gave me a “You rock!” and a high five as they passed, and I laughed aloud.

“You sure are giving a lot of high fives tonight there, Nuts Girl,” he teased over his shoulder as I played with his hair. I sighed and rested my chin on his shoulder as he took out the key to let us in.

“Well, what can I say? They love me in Santa Barbara!” I sang, Ethel Merman style.