Page 23 of On His Knees
I laugh and shake my head. “That is none of your business.”
Amber blinks long lashes over pleading eyes. “Come on, Summer. I’d tell you, and since I’m currently going through a dry spell, give me something. You can’t have sex with the hottest guy around and not share a few details.”
“Okay, fine. We went to his chalet—”
“He has a chalet?” Amber crinkles her nose and I follow her gaze, take in Tate once again. He’s dressed in a black button-up work shirt and jeans, his hair falling in his eyes as he reaches for something under the bar. He stands again, and despite the fact that he’s not in a tie, he smooths his hand over his chest, in typical James fashion. Such a funny thing that Tate would have the same gesture as my patient. I think about that for a moment, notice the way he carries himself, like a man of great authority. If it weren’t for the too longish hair and bartending job, one could easily mistake him for a man who comes from means. I’m just glad he’s not. I doubt I’d be able to connect with him the same way if he was—the only rich guy I’ve found myself able to trust is James.
“How can he afford a chalet?” Cara asks, pulling my thoughts back.
“He has a friend who’s out of town and lent it to him.”
“How fortunate that it fell on the same week we’re here.”
“Very fortunate,” I say. “But I do have a whole penthouse suite to myself. We could have gone there. Then again, it probably wouldn’t look good if he was caught sneaking out of my room every morning. They probably have rules about staff fraternizing with the guests.”
Amber’s eyes light up, catching on to the one thing I was sure she would. “So this wasn’t just a one-night stand?”
“I think I’d like to make it a one-week stand?” I say, my body remembering all the ways he touched me with his hands, his mouth, his magnificent cock.
“Yes,” Amber says, and does a fist pump. It catches Tate’s eyes and he looks our way. I give him a smile and he grins back.
“You so deserve a week of fun and hot, dirty sex.”
“Who said it was dirty?”
Amber laughs. “I saw the way you were walking this morning.”
“Ohmigod, Amber,” I say, shaking my head.
“What does Tate think about a weeklong fling?”
“I don’t know, actually. After breakfast this morning, he had to get ready for work, and I spent the day on the slopes with you girls, so we never really talked about it.” I sip my drink and look at my friends. “Besides, it’s not ta
lking I want to do with him.”
“Talking is overrated,” Amber says, and we all laugh.
I steal another glance at Tate, but then my view is blocked when a man steps up to our table.
“How’s it going?” he says, a slight slur to his voice as he glances at us. “Can I buy you ladies a drink?”
I hold up my half-empty glass. “Already have one, thanks.”
He frowns, and checks in with the other girls, and after we all decline him, he gestures with the beer in his hand to where he’s sitting with a group of guys. They’re all leering at us, and it makes my skin crawl. “If you change your mind, I’m over there. I’m Bill, by the way.”
“Thanks, Bill,” I say, never one to be outwardly rude, even to a drunk guy trying to pick me up. Bill stumbles back toward his friends, and suddenly Tate is at our table.
“Everything okay here?” he asks, his eyes landing on mine.
“Everything is great.”
He gestures with a jerk of his thumb. “You need me to take care of that guy?”
It’s ridiculous how the feminine side of me reacts to his protectiveness. “We already did,” I say. “But I appreciate the offer.”
He nods, the muscles along his jaw tense. If I didn’t know better I’d say he was jealous, about to start pounding his chest and intimidating all the other men in the bar. But that can’t be right. We’ve only had one night of sex, which I’m hoping to rectify shortly.
His eyes flicker to our drink glasses. “I’m just about to go on break, but I was wondering if I could get you ladies anything else?”