Hot Winter Nights

“Whatever you want, Lila,” he whispered, his lips searing a path to her throat.

She swayed in his arms. His strong, muscled arms. How weird was it that she didn’t feel nervous with Clint? She’d never kissed a man five minutes after meeting him. Okay, it had been longer but not all that much. She was always careful about not playing into the Hollywood stereotype. She didn’t play fast or loose. Actually, it just wasn’t her style.

She felt the tip of his tongue trace her collarbone. Her nipples tightened. She squeezed her thighs together. Her breathing was off, and she couldn’t seem to drag in enough air.

“Tell me what you want, Lila.” His voice was low and rough, his breath hot on her skin.

Her sweatshirt was too thick. She couldn’t feel him pressed against her the way she wanted to...

He stopped kissing her and lifted his head. The second he stepped back, she heard the laughter just outside the trailer. She recognized Shannon’s loud snort.

Lila stepped back, as well.

“So, you can tell him,” Clint said when they heard the doorknob turn, “or you can give Baxter my number. That’s up to you.” He turned and nodded causally at Shannon and Diane as they entered, both of them speechless, eyes full of curiosity.

“I have to think about it,” Lila said, her voice hardly shaking at all. But she almost lost it when he took off his hat and held it in front of himself. “I’ll need your number.”

Her cell signaled a text. They needed her on the set.

Clint surprised her with a business card. “I should probably get your number, too.”

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