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Her Artist (Love Games, #2)
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Her Artist
A Love Games Story
Allyson Lindt
This book is a work of fiction.
While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2019 by Allyson Lindt
All Rights Reserved
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.
Manufactured in the United States of America
Acelette Press
Table of Contents
Copyright Page
Her Artist (Love Games, #2)
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Also By Allyson Lindt
About the Author
For my eternal dragon
Chapter One
CHLOE POKED AT THE cherry in her appletini. Or, what was left of the drink, anyway. The bartender had already teased her twice that he’d never seen anyone make a drink last two hours before.
Apparently, every single book and movie ever made about meeting a guy in a bar had lied to her. It wasn’t as simple as taking a seat alone, then smiling and making eye contact with whoever was cute. She was going to do this, though. She was starting a new job, at a top-notch company that actually wanted her for her story-telling skills, and she was going to reinvent herself in the process.
She’d show everyone she more than a shy awkward geek. The girl even the other computer science club members in high school thought dipped too far into the obscure.
A raucous cheer went up from a table halfway across the room, and her gaze drifted before she could stop it. The group had been there for maybe half an hour, and with each passing minute got louder. She expected that. What kept drawing her eye, was the sexy guy with them. Dark blond hair, gorgeous blue eyes, and the way his faded Atari T-shirt hugged the muscles of his torso was almost a sin.
Someone at the table said something else, from the roll of his eyes she was glad she couldn’t hear it, and everyone but him roared with laughter again. He shook his head, his gaze met Chloe’s, and his scowl melted into a smile.
So not fair. That made him even more attractive. Oh, right, she was supposed to return the look. It was the entire reason she was here. When he pushed his chair back and strode in her direction, her pulse hammered in her ears.
He took the seat next to her, and his arm brushed hers. “Can I buy you another of whatever you’re drinking?”
He even had a sexy voice. This wasn’t real. Was it? “No thanks. I’ve had enough.” The words tumbled out before she considered them, and she cringed. She rushed to add, “I mean, I’m starting a new job, and I don’t want to be hungover.”
He gave a light chuckle. “A bar might not have been the best idea the night before, in that case.”
“I don’t start until Monday.” Wow, she was as awkward as ever. Apparently, new scenery and a resolution to change didn’t make it happen automatically.
His brow furrowed for a moment and he studied her. “Good. I suppose. That gives me all weekend, right?”
And her thoughts ground to a halt, before spinning up at high speed, and diving into the analytical. The wink said he was teasing. Or being seductive. Was that meant to be innuendo? Was he just making conversation? What was she supposed to say next?
He raked his fingers through his hair, and his confident mask faltered. “I’m coming on too strong, aren’t I? I’m new at this.”
“No, not at all. You’re confident, and that’s attractive.” Heat flooded her cheeks. “Your friends are kind of obnoxious though. I mean—Crap. I’m just sticking my foot in my mouth all over the place.”
“I like it.” His gaze was back on hers. Up close, his eyes weren’t just blue, they were cool and clear, like warm ice. A combination her editor would point out didn’t make any sense. Maybe she shouldn’t have had the one drink. “It’s assertive, and that’s attractive.” His smile twitched as he mimicked her words. “Besides, they’re not my friends, they’re my co-workers. We met our deadline so we’re celebrating.”
She’d placed him as about the same age as her twenty-one, and the way he held himself and spoke reinforced that.
“What kind of deadline? What do you do?” she asked.
“You don’t want to know. I tell you that, it taints your opinion of me, and you walk away because everyone thinks the computer guys are geeks.”
And they worked in similar fields. Sort of. She was going to write stories for video games, but it was still a technical field.
She very well might be dreaming. Had she passed out at the bar from boredom? Might as well go with it. “That’s not true.”
“It’s true. As soon as anyone catches a whiff of how geek I am, they scurry in the other direction.” There was no self-effacing in his tone, or any kind of bid for sympathy. He seemed playful about the statement.
“I know that story. Personally even. There’s no way you’re that severe.”
“I guess that’s all a matter of opinion, isn’t it?” He leaned in, rested his forearms on the bar top, and brushed her arm with his fingertips. “You toss enough obscure one-liners at someone, and suddenly your hardcoreness is exposed.”
“I’m not sure that’s a word.” Her tension was evaporating as the conversation progressed. “But I like it.” And she was using it in her next fanfic.
“Are you sure I can’t buy you a drink? Virgin?”
Screw second-guessing herself. She was going to let the thoughts flow and hope it didn’t bite her later... Though she wouldn’t mind if he did. “I’m not. It’s not a long list, but there are a couple of guys on it.”
He opened his mouth, paused, and then laughed. “I see what you did there.” He waved the bartender over. “Jack and Coke for me. And whatever my lovely companion wants.”
“Another of the same.” Chloe held up her glass. “Extra cherries.”
“So I can get you out of those wet clothes and into a dry martini?” His words were quiet, only meant for her ears, but a thread of heat flowed through them. It wasn’t the cheesy line, it was that he quoted a classic film without hesitation.
She squirmed in her seat for show. “Not wet yet, but the night’s still young.”
Mr. Gorgeous leaned closer. “I’m going to be glad I came over here.”
“I hope you already are.” This was fun.
Chapter Two
JORDAN DIDN’T CARE for the bar scene, though the little dive near the office made a fantastic blue cheese burger. It was the only reason he agreed to join the development team here to celebrate meeting their most recent deadline, and getting their game to Quality Assurance on time.
Now that he thought about it, he’d never ordered that burger. The woman with the tiny but seductive smile caught his attention the moment his group walked in, and never let go.
Better still, he’d lost track of how long he and she sat there, swapping their favorite one-liners from movies, mingled with great conversation. They’d been there for two hours? Three? Long enough most of his co-workers had gone for the night.
Each time she laughed, tucked her hair behind her ear, or chewed her bottom lip, his cock stirred. She’d scooted close enough her knee touched his, and when she shifted, her arm brushed his. “What are the odds, that out of all the gin joints in all the
towns in all the world, I’d walk into the same one as you?” she asked.
“Never tell me the odds.” The conversation was for them alone, with how closely their heads bowed together. Another inch or two, and he’d taste those full lips. And fuck, that was tempting.
“Quick impression for you.” He was going to push the boundaries of teasing further, and hope he didn’t get too obscure for it to work. Here goes nothing. He leaned back on his stool, closed his eyes, and moaned in his best impersonation of an exaggerated female orgasm.
“Oh God.” Her giggle was tingled with embarrassment.
He pried one eye open to see her cheeks were bright pink. Her blush was enticing as everything else she did. He straightened in his seat. “Well?”
“I’ll have what she’s having.” She followed with the next line from When Harry met Sally.
It was the opening he wanted. He settled a hand on her bare knee, below the hem of her skirt, and nestled his mouth near her ear. A soft wave of cherry filled his head. “I can arrange that,” he whispered.
A whimper, so faint he might have imagined it, tore from her throat. “What did you have in mind?”
“How wicked are you feeling?”
She pulled back enough to meet his gaze, covered his fingers with hers, and slid his hand higher on her leg. “Very.”
His dick strained against his zipper. This was the kind of opportunity karma extracted a due for, and he didn’t care. He wasn’t passing this up. He trailed his nose up the side of her neck, back to her ear. “Follow me.”
She tangled her fingers in his, and stood when he tugged her toward the back hallway leading to the bathrooms. The place was tiny enough there were no stalls. Just a single room for each gender, and locks on the outer doors. The women’s room was empty, and he nudged her inside, locking the door behind them.
Her squeal melted into a sigh when he kissed her. She tasted like cherries and sour apples. If he got any harder, he’d pop his jeans. Hands on her hips, he guided her back toward the sink. She dug her fingers into his chest when he deepened the kiss and slid his tongue into her mouth to dance.
Every time she moved, her hip dug into his cock, teasing and tempting. He grasped his last threads of reason, broke away, and rested his forehead against hers. “Promise me you’re not drunk.”
“I promise.” She swiped her mouth over his, and caught his bottom lip between his teeth before pulling away. “This is completely consensual.”
“Fuck the hell yes.”
She ground against him again. “Hellsing Abridged. Team Four Star.”
She got hotter every second. He barely had the mental capacity to know he was quoting obscure references, and she picked them up without thought. At least one of them was in their right mind. “We’re not playing anymore.”
“We are.” She stepped back, taking him with her. “It’s just a different game.”
“I like the way you think.” He glided a hand under her shirt, and up her bare stomach, to brush the bottom of her bra.
“I’m not just another pretty face?”
“You’re not.” He grazed his thumbs over her breasts, and she arched her back. “But I do like the view.”
Every time he skimmed her nipples through fabric, she gasped and pressed into his touch. He wanted to strip her down slowly, revealing her an inch at a time, then spend eons kissing every bit of her bare body.
Not the best idea, given their environment. His dick was grateful to not wait. Every time she squirmed against him, hip digging into his erection, it begged to be buried inside her.
“How long do you think we have before someone pounds on the door?” Sharp gasps punctuated her question.
He whirled her so her back was to his chest, and pulled her into him. Her heat seeped into him, taunting and teasing. He drew his tongue along the side of her neck. Fuck, she was delicious. “Not long.”
Her pout—exaggerated and completely alluring—reflected back at him in the mirror. The lighting in here was shit, but she still looked amazing. Hair over one eye, pink spreading across her cheeks. She wiggled her ass against him, voice playful. “So, do we just make eye contact in the glass until then, or...?”
“I had something more hands-on in mind.” He shoved her skirt up over her hips. Red satin and lace covered her ass, teasing him. He slid his hand under the elastic, and watched her reflection when he dipped lower. The way her eyes closed, and she leaned back into him with a sigh when he brushed her mound. The part of her lips when his fingers glided between her folds.
He grazed the soft skin of her neck with his teeth, then followed with tiny kisses, inhaling her intoxicating scent. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”
He found her clit, and she jerked into his hand with a sharp, Oh. Those tiny noises were rapidly becoming his favorite sounds. As he stroked the swollen nub, she bit her bottom lip, and thrust against his fingers. Each sway of her hips made him harder. Watching her chest heave with stuttered breaths. He could probably cut glass with his dick right now.
Her gasps and moans grew more punctuated as he stroked her. She dug her nails into his arm, gripping tight, sending tingles of pain and ecstasy racing over his skin.
When she came, mewling and pressing into his fingers, he swore it was almost enough to get him off. He needed to be inside her.
She rested more weight against him. She was warm and tempting. “I want you to fuck me.” Her words were broken by grabs to catch her breath. She hooked her thumbs in the elastic of her panties, and bent at the waist as she slid the underwear down, giving him a perfect view of her round ass.
He barely had enough blood left in his brain to remember to grab a condom from his wallet, unzip his slacks, and wrap his cock. A wicked smirk greeted him when she glanced over her shoulder.
He smoothed his palm along her cheek, and between her legs, parting her, letting the slick coat his fingers, before he fisted his erection. Other hand on her hip, he nudged her opening. He wanted to tease a little more, but he’d already abandoned his restraint. He thrust inside her with a single push, burying himself to the hilt before pulling back out almost to the head.
She gripped the edge of the sink, red silk crinkling in her hand, and drove back against him, prompting him to increase the pace.
“I can’t hold out if you do that.” His words were strained.
“I know.”
He dug his fingers into her pelvis, holding on for all he was worth, slamming inside her, hitting something deep that made her face scrunch up and tore cries from her throat. His head swam, light and threatening to float away.
When she came again, she clenched around his cock, squeezing and making flashes of light dance across his vision. He pounded harder, feeling his balls tighten. Pressure building inside. His pace grew to frantic, and orgasm spilled through him. Still he thrust against her, hard and fast, until they were both spent, and her wobble told him her grip on standing was as tenuous as his.
He slid out of her, as he helped her straighten. With one hand on her stomach to steady them both, he kissed along the back of her neck. “A million times better than Meg Ryan ever sounded.”
The noise drifting from her chest was something between a giggle and a sigh. “I hope so. I meant it. God, that was wonderful.”
“Something to carry with you into Monday, and the new job.” As he smoothed her skirt down, he couldn’t resist sliding his hand along the curve of her ass, and memorizing more of her contours.
She whirled, mischief dancing in her eyes, stuffed her panties into his jeans pocket, then draped her arms around his neck. “I’m hoping you won’t carry those into Monday. But something to remember this by.”
He interlocked his fingers against the small of her back, and kissed her hard, drilling it all into his head. The way her entire body molded to his. The soft yield of her mouth. The entire evening. He needed to get her number. Her name. How had they missed exchanging names? He was going to see this woman again.
Someone pounded on the do
or loud enough to rattle the mirror. “Hey. There are people waiting out here.”
Her cheeks flushed scarlet, and she stepped out of his reach. “Thank you for tonight. It was amazing.”
“Wait—”
She was gone, vanished past the glaring woman on the other side of the door, and down the hall, before he could reach for her.
He gave the waiting stranger and knowing grin, and chased after his Cinderella. She was gone, though, and instead of a shoe, she left him with a souvenir he’d never match to anyone, and a memory he’d never forget.
Chapter Three
CHLOE FOLLOWED ZACH, the CEO and one of the company co-founders, from the elevator and down the hallway. Excitement spilled inside her. It didn’t hurt she’d worn a smile since her Friday night hook-up with Mr. Gorgeous. Sex in a dingy bar bathroom. Part of her still didn’t believe she’d done it. It had been so illicit, at least for her, and the memories would keep her company for a long time.
It was better than any filthy story she’d written, because it was real.
She wasn’t sure she’d find the courage to do something like that again any time soon, but she didn’t regret it for a moment. Well, that wasn’t completely true. She regretted not sticking around long enough to get the guy’s name.
“Everyone saw how all over you she was.” A male voice drifted to meet them. “There’s no way you didn’t tap that.”
Zach glanced over. “They’ve been warned about this. If the language bothers you, never hesitate to come talk to me. We want our office to be a harassment free environment.”
Chloe gave him a reassuring smile. Right. Like she was going to be the squeaky wheel. Besides, she knew from her older sister that Zach talked as much locker room trash as anyone. Rae and Zach dated in high school.
Chloe had gotten this job on her own merit though, and she wasn’t letting raunchy conversation scare her away from it. Especially since she’d written worse. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks.”