Kiss Me Book 1 Read online

  Oh well, she thought; there would be time for that later.

  “You’ve got paint in your hair,” he said as he grabbed a bottle of shampoo and worked her hair into a lather.

  “I think I have paint in places paint should never be.”

  “There is a good possibility of that,” he said, laughing.

  “We never made it to the bed. You never got to tie me up.”

  He laughed and pulled her chin up, kissing her over the shoulder. “Don’t worry, there’s plenty of night left, and I don’t plan on letting you out of my sight.”

  They took turns washing each other’s hair and lathering their bodies with a thick foam. Amy was standing with her back against him while his hands roamed over her breasts when the door to the bathroom burst open. A massive man wearing jeans and an expensive shirt stormed in.

  “Christian, you’re in a lot of fucking trouble,” he bellowed.

  Kiss Me Book 3

  “Amar, what the hell?” Christian yelled as he pulled Amy behind him, shielding her nudity with his own. His stance was wide, and his were hands on his hips, seemingly unphased by the third person who’d suddenly entered their shower party.

  So this was Amar? She peaked around Christian’s shoulder at the behemoth of a man. His hair was the same shade of blond as Christian’s but cropped short in a fade cut. His eyes were glacial blue as well. They could be . . . bothers?

  “Christian, we need to talk about the . . .”

  Christian cleared his throat, silencing Amar. Amy didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to figure out that whatever it was they needed to discuss could not be done in front of her.

  “I’m kind of busy,” Christian said.

  “I don’t give a damn if you’re banging the Laker Girls. Get your ass out of the shower, take your little conquest of the week home and get back here.”

  “Excuse me?” Amy said from behind Christian. How dare this man insult her!

  “You heard me,” Amar said, hatefully.

  Amy made a move to step around Christian, but his hand shot out, blocking her. He gave a little tick of his jaw, warning her to stop.

  “Fine. Get the hell out of my shower so we can get finished up.”

  Amar narrowed his blue eyes at her. “If you’re not out of this shower in five minutes, I will haul you out by that scrawny dick.”

  Scrawny dick? Amy thought. Good grief, if Amar thought Christian was scrawny, what the hell was he packing in his pants, a bazooka?

  Christian didn’t move again until the door slammed shut. After it did he turned. “I’m sorry, but Amar is a dick and has no problem hitting a woman.”

  Amy frowned.

  “He’s a good man though,” he said, quick to defend.

  “Yeah, sounds like it,” she said as she turned the water off and walked over to retrieve a towel.

  “He’s my big brother. He just . . .”

  “Cleans up your messes?” she said as she wrapped a towel around herself.

  Christian looked as if he’d just been slapped, and she winced inwardly, regretting her words. But the reality of the situation was that he had her art. He’d offered no explanation as to how he’d come by it; he’d just told her that she needed to pay him back the losses he’d taken. She’d also noticed that when Amar had accused her of being the conquest of the week, Christian hadn’t protested. She felt lower than low. She actually felt like a whore.

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said quietly. There was a slight edge in his voice, warning her to tread lightly.

  “No, you’re right, I don’t because I don’t know you, Christian. All I know is you have my stolen art and refuse to one, give it back to me and two, tell me where you got it from.”

  “I don’t have to tell you a damn thing. I paid for that art,” he said.

  “You’re right, you don’t. I’m not going to be your booty call anymore. I want my possessions back,” she said.

  “I don’t have to give you shit. I paid for it,” he said.

  Amy’s head was spinning at how fast he seemed to have gone from sweet lover to a dangerous viper.

  She narrowed her eyes at him dangerously. “You may have bought it not knowing that it was stolen and that was an innocent mistake, or whatever, but now that you know it is stolen, you’re breaking the law, and you know it. So, I’m going to tell you this one time and one time only.” She took a step closer and tilted her chin up defiantly. “You will return my stuff to me by the end of next week or I will own this gallery and everything in it.”

  He took a step closer to her and glared down at her. “Try it,” he said.

  She wanted to reply but could tell by the firm set of Christian’s stubbled jaw that it would do no good. She didn’t look at him as she left the bathroom, shoulders squared and chin held high. When she emerged beside Christian’s bed, she saw Amar standing across the room, leaning in the exact spot where she and Christian had just had sex.

  Walking over to Christian’s dresser, she ripped open drawers until she found a pair of boxers and a t-shirt. She quickly dressed and after her head poked through the hole of the shirt she found Amar staring at her. His features had softened. He’d taken a few steps and was leaning against the other side of the rail.

  “Listen, I’m sorry about what I said in there. I was a dick,” he said quietly.

  Amy frowned, taken aback by his sudden apology. “Umm, I would say it’s okay but it’s not. You insulted me, and you don’t even know me.”

  “I am sorry. It’s not you I meant to insult. Listen, Christian is my baby brother. I’ve been cleaning up after him my entire life. You seem like a really nice lady. Cut your losses now. It’s not smart to get involved with him. He’s dangerous.”

  Amy frowned. What kind of man had she been sleeping with if his own brother was telling her he was bad news?

  “Dangerous how?” she asked.

  His eyes grew round. “Oh no, he would never hurt you, physically. He may be ripped like a fucking tank, but he doesn’t really have a violent bone in his body. No, my dear, I wasn’t referring to him physically hurting you so much as I was about him emotionally hurting you. He refuses to grow up.”

  It was apparent in the fine lines of age around his eyes that what he was saying was true. She’d learned early on that Christian was thirty-eight. There couldn’t have been more than seven years between the two.

  She wanted to ask him more, but Christian chose that moment to emerge from the bathroom. He hadn’t bothered wearing a towel. Instead he just glared at his brother and gave Amy a cool glare as he walked passed them and to the fridge. He pulled out a container of orange juice and drank straight from the carton.

  “Put some clothes on,” Amar said, averting his eyes.

  However, Amy couldn’t do that much. Her eyes followed Christian everywhere.

  “Fuck you, this is my house. If I want to let my dick hang free I will,” he said. He flopped down on the couch and casually placed his arm on the back, staring at the two of them.

  Amar took a deep, calming breath. “Why don’t you take . . .” he turned to her for her name.

  “Amy,” she said.

  “Why don’t you take Amy home, and then we’ll talk.”

  Christian snorted. “It’s after four in the morning. I don’t want to talk about shit. She took a cab here, and she can take a cab back,” he said harshly.

  Amy’s eyes grew wide. “Wow” was all she could manage to say. She felt like the last few hours they’d spent together had meant nothing to him. Like she was just a means to scratch an itch.

  “Christian!” Amar admonished.

  He just looked at him and shrugged. Amar fished in his pockets and came out holding a ring of keys. Never taking his eyes from his brother, he pulled a single key from the ring. “Take my car home, dear. I’ll get it tomorrow.”

  “Y-you’re letting me take your vehicle?”

  “Yes. You don’t need to be taking a cab this late, and my brother
and I have lot to discuss.”

  “If you’re sure.”

  “I am.”

  Taking the key, she hurried down the stairs. She didn’t make it far out the bay doors when she heard Amar bellow at his brother. “You’re lying to her.”

  As Amy hurried from the gallery, tears streaked down her face. As far as mistakes went, this one would go down in the history books as massively epic.

  ***

  Amy woke up to a rather persistent pounding in her head. Groaning, she rolled over and looked at the clock. It was closing in on eleven o’clock. The mixture of wine and the night’s events made every inch of her body ache, but honestly, it wasn’t nearly as bad as the ache that she felt beating in her chest. She’d been naive to think that Christian was any different. Why would he be? He was a sexy artist, ripped from one end to another. He was living the life he wanted and could have had any woman. He did get the woman he wanted, and when he was done he kicked her aside, she thought glumly.

  Her phone started buzzing, and she looked at the display. It was her sister. She hit ignore and rolled over, not in the mood to deal with her—or anyone, for that matter.

  Deciding she needed coffee, she slid from bed and made her way down to the kitchen. Her muscles protested as she slowly walked down the stairs. As she walked past the front door, a loud knock caused her to jump.

  “Shit,” she said, clutching at her chest. Pushing her wild and tangled hair out of her face, she stood on her tiptoes to see who it was. Relief as well as disappointment washed over her as she disarmed the security system and slid the locks free.

  She opened the door, screwing on the best smile she could muster.

  “Hello,” she said, squinting as the sun assaulted her sensitive eyes.

  “Hello Amy. How are you?”

  Amy sniffed and forced her emotions down. “I’m good. I’ve got the key to your car in the kitchen. I was just about to make some coffee. Would you care to join me?” she asked. She didn’t particularly want to talk to Amar, but he’d been surprisingly nice to her, so she felt somewhat obligated to return the favor.

  He smiled a smile that was a lot like Christian’s. She backed away from the door and allowed him entrance.

  “You’ve got a lovely home,” Amar said, looking around.

  “Thank you. This way,” she said, beckoning him to follow her down the hall and into the kitchen.

  “Did you decorate it?”

  “I did. I had some pieces imported from Italy,” she said as she moved around the counter and filled the carafe with water.

  “Yes, I noticed the banisters when I walked in. Very finely sculpted and designed. Beautiful wood that can only be found over there.”

  Amy’s eyes met his blue ones. She couldn’t hide the shock she felt. “You know about décor?”

  He chuckled and removed his suit coat and draped it over the back of a chair. She noticed he was impeccably dressed in an expensive suit. “Our mother was Sophia D’Ltera.”

  Amy’s mouth fell open and her eyes bugged out. “Your mother was Sophia D’Ltera?” she asked, repeating what he’d just said.

  “Yes,” he said with a chuckle.

  She could hardly believe what she was hearing. Sophia was world famous in the interior design field. She’d often catered to A-list celebrities and leaders all over the world up until she passed away five years before with a rare form of Leukemia.

  “Sorry, I’m just. . . wow!” was all she could manage as she continued to prep the coffee.

  “Yeah. We all took her death pretty hard, but Christian took it the hardest.”

  At the mention of Christian’s name her gut clenched. Her hands began to tremble. She tried to calm her nerves. “I was deeply saddened by her death. I am so sorry for your loss,” Amy said.

  “Thank you,” Amar said with a single nod.

  She could tell he wanted to say something, but she didn’t want to hear what he had to say. Even though he and Christian had been fighting the night before, and Amar had accused him of lying to her, she couldn’t deal with anything Christian-related.

  “So, Amar, what is it that you do?” she asked as she plucked a blueberry muffin from the cabinet. She offered it to him, but he waved it away.

  “I am a defense attorney,” he said simply.

  “Which would explain why you’re dressed like you’re ready to hit the runway,” she said playfully.

  “I have a certain image to uphold, but honestly I’d much rather be on the beach,” he said honestly.

  “The beach?”

  “Oh yes, I love to surf.”

  Again her eyes widened. They lived in California, so it wasn’t all that uncommon for an older man to surf. She just didn’t expect it to be him.

  “That’s nice,” she said.

  Silence grew between them as the coffee pot puttered and sputtered as it brewed. It was Amar who finally broke the silence.

  “I owe you an apology,” he said.

  When she looked up, she realized that he looked a bit sheepish and found it endearing. “It’s truly okay,” she said. She couldn’t hold what he’d said against him, even if she’d wanted to. He was trying to protect his brother. She understood.

  “It’s okay,” she said, patting his hand.

  He shook his head. “No. I was out of line when I abruptly interrupted your . . . well, I was unnecessarily rude to you. It was Chris who I was pissed at, and unfortunately you got caught in the line of fire.”

  “Do you fight often?” she asked as she pulled down two ceramic mugs and filled them with coffee. “Cream or sugar?”

  “No thanks. Our relationship is complicated, at times.”

  “Complicated?” she said and handed him the cup. He took a sip.

  “Yes. Christian is the baby of the family. We have two sisters who are older than we are. Allie and her husband live in Italy while Yasmeen and her girlfriend live in Spain. Even at close to forty, he still struggles with growing up sometimes. He is an incredible businessman and friend, but he is a lot like our mother. If he sees something he wants, he goes after it, no matter the cost or the damage it may do. I’ve spent the last several years cleaning up a mess he got himself into when he was younger.”

  “What mess is that?”

  Amar shook his head. “I’m sorry, but that is not my story to tell. Christian needs to be the one to tell you because in a roundabout way it affects you and your current situation.”

  She frowned and said, “How is that possible?”

  “It just is. He will tell you—don’t worry about that. Once he gets a chance, he will.”

  Amy shook her head and stared down into her coffee. Tears were threatening to fall. “I’m sorry, but there aren’t going to be any more chances. I just want my art back, and that’s all. I can put all this behind me and forget this ever happened.” The last part came out as a whisper as her eyes filled with tears. She didn’t want to cry in front of him, one, because she didn’t want to be that girl and two, she didn’t want to admit that she’d fallen hopelessly in love with Christian.

  When she looked up Amar was looking at her with sympathetic eyes. “Don’t write him off just yet.”

  “He doesn’t care for me. The only thing he cares about . . . is what I . . .” she said but stopped the sentence. There was no way she was going to talk about having sex with his brother. It didn’t matter if he’d seen every inch of her in the shower, grinding her ass against his brother’s cock. It just wasn’t going to happen.

  Amar finished his coffee and rose to his feet. He shrugged on his jacket, and she handed him the key to his car. He took it and covered her hand with his. “Give him just a bit of time.”

  She frowned as she looked at him. This was not the man she’d heard arguing with Christian the first night they’d slept together. This was not the man that had barged in on them in the shower. This was a man full of honor and a strong sense of family. This was a man she knew she could count on and trust.

  “What is it that
you see?” she asked.

  He chuckled and patted her hand. “That he loves you.”

  He didn’t give her a chance to respond as he turned and left the kitchen. She just stood there, absorbing everything he’d just said to her. Christian was in love with her?

  “Well, he sure as hell has a weird way of showing it,” she said as Amar walked out the door. She moved to the window and watched him drive away.

  ***

  For the remainder of the day, Amy locked herself away in her office, burying herself in her work. She’d chosen not to go into her office because she didn’t feel like getting dressed. However, she had changed from Christian’s shirt and boxers because his smell, mingling with fabric softener, was lingering, distracting her. Every time she took a breath she could smell him.

  Her phone rang for the fifth time, and she picked it up and looked at the screen. With a roll of her eyes, she finally answered the call. “What?”

  “Shit, what the hell pissed in your cheerios this morning,” her sister said.

  “No one. I’m just busy with work. I figured you would have gotten that by now when I didn’t answer your texts and ignored your phone calls,” Amy said acidly.

  “Okay wow, you’re being a real bitch right now. What the hell?”

  “Nothing. Did you need something, or did you just call to pester me?” Amy said and winced at her harsh tone. It wasn’t her sister’s fault she’d fallen in love with a man who was so wrong for her.

  “I was calling to see if you wanted to grab a late lunch, but I’m thinking it might be a bad idea.”

  “Sorry, just didn’t have a great night and not having the best of days.”

  “What happened?” The frosty tone in Carrie’s voice melted and was replaced with concern.

  Amy sighed into her phone. “Nothing that I really want to talk about. I just really want to be left alone for a couple days, if it’s OK with you.”

  “Sure. Just call when you decide you’re ready to talk.”

  “Thanks sis. Love you.”

  “Love you too.” The line went dead, and she dropped her phone back to her desk. Looking at the clock, she realized that she hadn’t had anything to eat all day. She’d meant to eat a muffin, but the bomb that Amar had dropped on her left her feeling a little less than hungry.