Sweet Promise (The Grahams Book 1) Page 8

  I stood, lifting her with me and allowed her feet to slip back to the floor. She stepped back into her heels and picked up her bag. I took her hand, and we walked back to the street. I hailed a car, and we drove back to her hotel. I walked her up to her room. She opened her door, and lingered, waiting to see what I would do.

  “Early start tomorrow,” I said, wrapping an arm around her and leaning in to gently kiss her on the temple. I whispered in her ear, “Thank you for tonight. It meant more to me than you know.” Then I turned and walked away quickly, while I could still resolve myself to leave her.

  Georgia’s hotel was about ten blocks from my flat, and I decided to walk it rather than hailing a car. Each step I took felt lighter, and I knew it was all down to her. Back at my place, I put the key in the door and stepped into the foyer. I clicked on the light and caught my reflection in the hall mirror as I tossed my keys into a wicker basket on the hall table. I hadn’t realized it until I saw my face, but I was grinning like a schoolboy.

  CHAPTER 9

  Georgia

  After Lucas dropped me off, I took a hot shower, scrubbing the stage makeup and city grime from my face and body. I didn’t dress, but turned out all the lights in my room, and peered through the curtain, looking out at the city. I was restless – my body and mind keyed up from the long day and the emotional evening.

  I laid back on the bed and closed my eyes. The smell of Lucas’ hair, when I had put my face on top of his head, was fresh in my mind. The feel of those huge hands caressing my back and sliding down my hips had been almost more than I could stand. When he pulled on the back of my thighs, bringing me forward to straddle his him, I had wanted him so badly that I would have let him do anything he wanted if he had made a move. But he didn’t make a move. That’s not what tonight was about, and it made me even sure that he wasn’t the man that the press made him out to be.

  Remembering the night aroused all my senses. I ran my hands over my breasts, gently rolling the alert, pink nipples between my thumbs and forefingers. I pushed my thighs together tightly, remembering how strong his arms had been around me. I ran a hand down my belly as I thought about him having pressed himself against me from behind and remembered how big his cock had felt against me, even through our clothes. I slid my hand between my thighs, and let my fingers slide into the wetness there with a deep sigh. I moved my fingers up to the hard, little knot that I knew would release my pleasure. As I rubbed my fingers along it, flicking back and forth, I wondered what it would feel like have his hands there, instead, exploring me. After several minutes, I found a raw satisfaction, though it was no comparison to what I wanted from Lucas. After my release, I finally drifted off, still nude between the sheets.

  The next day we would wrap up shooting in London, then head out to Paris. Lucas didn’t knock on my door, as I’d expected, to take me to the shoot. Instead, I got a text from John, who was in the lobby.

  0207 222 4691: hi georgia. john here. in lobby – come down any time

  ME: ok brt

  I was surprised not to have heard from Lucas. He had been with me pretty much since I’d arrived, after all. When I got downstairs to the lobby, John waved at me eagerly. “Hiya! Good morning!” He chirped.

  “Good-mornin'. Is…Lucas okay?” I asked the question as nonchalantly as I could muster.

  “Yeah, he just headed to the set early. He asked me to come fetch you. Hope that’s alright?” His standard issue warm smile returned. He was such a sweet guy, and sorta handsome in his own way. I briefly wondered if he and Lucas had ever fought over the same girl. They’d known each other nearly all their lives, after all.

  “Yeah, of course. It’s fine. Should we get goin’?” I tried to play it cool as we left the hotel, but John could see I was disappointed.

  “I don’t mean to pile on,” he said carefully, “but this is the kind of thing I was talking about. Lucas has always been a Lucas-first sort of person, you know?”

  “No, it’s fine. No reason he should have come himself,” I said a little more defensively than I meant to. “He’s not my keeper.”

  We had been so close the night before, I couldn’t believe he would be so cold. If he thinks he’s gonna play games with me…that I’m some country bumpkin he can mess with, he’s got another thing comin’! We got to Jerry’s, the Borough Market café frequented by most of London’s food scene elite for the early morning shoot. The camera crew had been on-site for hours, getting some atmospheric shots before sunrise. The restaurant had been closed for us, which John had arranged, with only a few local chefs and neighborhood regulars were allowed inside for filming. We walked into the kitchen to find the crew set up and filming. I sat on an empty counter while the makeup artist tended to my face and hair. Lucas had not acknowledged me when we walked in. Instead, he stood in the back, chatting and laughing with his chef buddies while the crew set up for the recipe shots.

  When the set was ready, I joined Lucas behind the counter. “Morning,” he said boisterously.

  “Good-mornin',” I retorted coolly.

  “Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning,” he said playfully. I just looked at him without saying another word. He shrugged as if unbothered by my demeanor. He started the recipe, and I tried to be charming on camera as I read my lines, but my sour mood was making me come across as stiff and unnatural.

  We took a break, and I walked out through the alley door to stretch my legs and regroup. I put my palms on the back of my hips and paced back and forth. I was facing the street when I heard the restaurant door behind me open and shut. I knew who it was without turning to look. “What do you want?” I didn’t care if he could tell I was annoyed.

  “Whoa, what’s your problem today?” Lucas strode up to me and put his hands on his hips as he faced me.

  “What’s my problem? You’re the one with the problem!” I crossed my arms in a huff and turned away from him. He threw his head back, laughing wildly. “What are you laughin’ at?!” Growing angrier by the second, I spun to face him, hands on my hips, my brow furrowed.

  “Georgia, you are absolutely precious, do you know that?” He towered over me and tried to take me by the shoulders, but I shrugged him off.

  “Stop it!” I said, “You don’t get to do this!”

  “What on earth are you talking about?” I tried to wriggle away from him, but he took my shoulders in his big hands and held me fast. His grip was firm, though he wasn’t hurting me. “Georgia, why are you angry with me?”

  “You sent John to get me this mornin’. You didn't even acknowledge me when I came in.” My eyes were beginning to well up in spite of myself. Damn it! I hated, hated, hated it when I couldn't control my emotions!

  He put his arms around me and tucked a curl behind my ear. “And you don’t know why,” he said. I shook my head no, more confused than ever. My bottom lip pouted just a bit as I stared up at him, betraying all my hurt and disappointment. He gave me a look that flashed between concern and attraction. “Oh, sweet Belle. What am I going to do with you?” He shook his head a little. “You don’t know what you did last night.” I looked into his eyes, not understanding. “You didn’t know what I was asking you to do when I asked you to come with me after the shoot, but you didn’t even seem to care. You just came because I needed you. You stayed with me, and listened to me…,” he put his hand up to my jaw, running his thumb across my lips, pulling the bottom one down slightly. Despite my anger, his fingers left a trail of electricity behind it on my skin everywhere he touched me.

  “You didn’t want anything in return. You held me as if…well, anyone who was looking on from the outside might have thought you really did…care for me on some level.” He said the last part carefully. He looked at me like he wanted to kiss me and run from me all at the same time.

  “So, you’re sayin’ I gave you what you needed, and you – what? You punish me for it? You shut me out? That’s what you do when someone cares for you?” He looked a little surprised at my choice
of words. I was trying so hard not to show my hand, but it had to be evident that I was starting to have some sort of feelings for him. He was gorgeous, of course, and any woman would be attracted to him. This, though, was something more than that. The time we had spent together on set, and when he had taken me to dinner and toured me around the city…little by little, he had shown me another side of himself. It was a side I didn’t know if anyone else saw, and that guy was someone I could definitely fall for.

  Lucas put his face down, resting his forehead against mine and stood there for a moment. “I’ve never met anyone who excites and terrifies me so. When we get together…,” I started to object, and he put his thumb to my lips again, and this time, I didn’t argue. I knew the decision was already made and though the good-girl upbringing in me wanted to fight it, the woman I was becoming wanted to embrace it, and in the end, the woman was far stronger than even I had given her credit for.

  Behind us, the door to the restaurant opened, and John called out, “Hey we’re ready to…,” I could tell from his voice that he had seen us standing in the alley, embracing, and stopped mid-sentence. I knew he didn’t want to see me hurt. What he saw, though, meant that he was too late to stop what had already been set in motion. We weren’t looking at each other with lust, but with the look of something far more dangerous. We broke the embrace and returned to the restaurant, hand-in-hand.

  The rest of the shoot went far better. We bantered back and forth, me working as Lucas’ sous chef as he made the English classic, Shepherd’s pie. We moved locations to a hillside in Greenwich, overlooking the city, and I prepared an Eton Mess. I fed a bite of the berry-filled dessert to Lucas who was clad in a cricket uniform. “Best tape yet,” Ian had said when we wrapped.

  The next day, the entire crew took the late train to Paris. The first-class cabin was empty, except for us. Lucas insisted that I sit beside him, despite the abundance of empty seats. About forty-five minutes outside of London, John had an excellent idea to do some posts for social media from the show’s new account. Lucas and I were in the front row, and Ian, Sarah, Ryan, and Pierce were standing in the row behind us, leaning in. We were all smiling, arms out, and he posted it with the caption Heading out to shoot the first episode of BITE TV’s newest show: WE’LL BITE! @lucasnash @georgiagraham @BITETV #sweetandspicy. Within minutes, the post had been shared hundreds of times.

  Ryan, Pierce, and Ian passed the time playing cards while Sarah read a fashion magazine. Sitting still for too long had never been one of my strengths. I wanted to get up and stretch my legs, so I carefully made my way down the swaying train to the dining car. It had a small bar with a few barstools and several oversized chairs scattered around the space, each bolted to the floor. I bought a Coke and sat in one of the chairs to text home to Celia and Ro.

  ME: hey yall - checking in. on my way 2 paris. all good @ hm?

  CELIA: hi sis. dad said u called. talked 2 him earlier

  ROME: hi geo. how r u doin

  ME: its good. very different. love london & ppl i wk w r nice

  ROME: cute girls in london? shd i come chk it out? LOL

  CELIA: hush rome – more important – tell me all about that yummy lucas!

  As I started to reply, my phone was suddenly plucked from my hand. “Hmm, yummy, am I? Well, she does have a point. Your sister has good taste!” Lucas laughed wildly as he held my phone and read the exchange.

  “That is a huge invasion of my privacy, ya know! Gimme my phone.” He held it above my head just out of reach. That was the bane of being a short girl. It pissed me off something fierce! “I’m serious!”

  “Oh my God that kills me when you make that face! I can’t take it.” He laughed harder at my furrowed brow and crinkled nose, waving the phone in the air just beyond my grasp. I’m not going to have to worry about fucking him, because I’m about to kill him, I thought.

  “Give it!” My accent was growing thicker the more aggravated I became. When my emotions were high, I couldn’t keep it in check. “I’m gonna kill you! I’m not playin’ I said give it!” I hopped up in the air a little, and he roared with laughter. Unable to retrieve my phone, I angrily crossed my arms and plopped down in one of the oversized club chairs in a huff. “Fine. Whatever. I don’t even care.” I pretended to look out the window, but we were in the tunnel, and there was nothing to see but blackness.

  “Glad you see things my way, Belle,” Lucas said, still chuckling as he began typing.

  ME: rome brit girls are gr8 but french r “friendlier” – lucas says he will hook u up

  He chuckled as he read me the message he was typing on my behalf.

  CELIA: georgia srsly tell me about lucas or ill disown you. r rumors about [eggplant emoji] true???!!! inquiring minds nd 2 know!

  “Eggplant, eh? Very flattering,” Lucas said, “And not entirely inaccurate, as you may have guessed,” Lucas looked at me, raising an eyebrow.

  ME: dont know yet but finding out soon! i hear its world-class

  btw…this IS lucas nash. i took georgias phone. nice texting w u

  ROME: fuuuuuuuck

  CELIA: liar!

  ME: not lying – this is lucas

  ROME: dude im holding u 2 introducing me 2 hot girls frm england

  CELIA: prove it

  ME: rome – deal

  celia – one sec

  He walked over to me, as I sat, arms folded, still pouting. I hated to be bested, and even though it was just a stupid prank, I was a sore loser. “Here,” he said, prying my hand from my arm, and pulling me from the seat, then taking my place. He tugged my hand again to bring me down to sit on his lap. “Selfie for the fam,” his tone was silly and exaggerated. I was being obstinate, but my body was starting to loosen up as I sat on his knee. The anger was playful, not genuine, anyway. He pulled my body close to his and put his cheek to the side of my head. I couldn’t help but smile as he extended the phone and snapped a couple of photos. I went to stand, but he pulled me back to his lap. With his arms still around me, he held up the phone and sent the photo.

  He handed the phone back to me. I was still sitting on his lap, though he no longer held me there. A tiny smile curled up at the corner of my mouth as I looked at the photo. He traced one side of my face, from forehead to chin with his fingertip, tucking a loose curl back behind my ear. “Is this your first train ride, Belle?” He asked playfully. I nodded. “So, another first I get to share.”

  “Yep,” I sighed with resignation, “and I’m sure there’ll be more.”

  His smile grew broad, then his eyes became soft as they gazed into mine. “Yeah…how about another one right now?”

  He pulled my chin with his fingertips, so I was facing him, and brought his lips to mine. He gently pulled on my lips with his, sucking lightly on the bottom one. As he did, I melted into him, my hands sliding around his strong shoulders, and he shifted in his seat a little. It was electric. Every movement of his lips on mine shot straight to my core. I had imagined kissing him a hundred times, but nothing my imagination could conjure came anywhere close to the feeling of his arms around me, and his lips on mine.

  I didn’t want it to end, but realized, as he started to break the kiss, that we were in public, after all. “Damn, Georgia,” he muttered under his breath, “a kiss like that could hurt a man.” His eyes were filled with heat, as I wriggled on his lap, sliding my legs together. It was what I had been craving since I’d first laid eyes on him in LA. I’m a grown-ass woman, I thought, I can fuck who I like, and I like Lucas Nash.

  “We better get back,” he said, patting my back. “If you sit on my lap any longer, we’re going to embarrass this poor bloke behind the bar.” As I stood up, my phone buzzed.

  CELIA: OMG! OMG! DYINGGGGGGG!!!!!!

  CHAPTER 10

  Lucas

  It was late by the time the car deposited us at the hotel in the 10th arrondissement. John had explained to Georgia en route that arrondissements were what the Parisian neighborhoods were called, but she seemed to onl
y half-listen, her eyes firmly glued to me as we drove. Sarah, Ian, Pierce, and Ryan had decided to call it a day. “So, do you two want to hit the hotel bar for a nightcap or something?” John asked us hopefully.

  “No thanks, mate,” I said, putting an arm around Georgia. “We’re going to head up, I think.”

  “Georgia, I didn’t see you get your room keys…they did get your reservation, yeah?” John asked her.