Read Online First Kiss by Kylie Adams - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Kylie Adams
Tags: Fiction, General, Humorous fiction, Romance, Contemporary, Reference, Interpersonal relations, Man-Woman Relationships, Love Stories, Weddings, Bridesmaids, Actresses, Hotelkeepers, Manhattan (New York; N.Y.), Beauty Contestants, Beauty Contests
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Welcome to Affair, Miss Aniston." He gave her a bold, flirtatious stare that stretched on long enough to ease the situation into sexual gear. "And if there's anything I can do to make your stay more pleasurable, please don't hesitate to ask."
----
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Word of Caution
Breckin!
We must make a pact and vow to stick together throughout this wedding. No matter what. I say this because we are surrounded by people with questionable judgment. Here's a cheat sheet:
1) My brother is marrying a woman he met five minutes ago.
2) His bride-to-be's family runs a cheap motel chain.
3) One of the bridesmaids engineered a legal attack that allowed a vile rich man (similar to my ex-husband; okay, it WAS my ex) to totally take advantage of a defenseless young wife (that would be me) in a divorce settlement.
Would YOU trust the opinions of these people? Brace yourself. It's just you and me, darling. How is the yacht research coming along?
Air Kisses, Kiki
----
Chapter Five
True to its name, the Mistress Hideaway was tucked away in a discreet corner of the hotel, the half corridor to its entrance directly accessible by stairwell for added discretion.
Fab escorted Kiki to the suite personally, and as they entered the small haven that was no larger than four hundred square feet, he said, "If these walls could talk"
Kiki took in her temporary home. "They would probably be saying Get me a bigger room ."
Fab placed the old-fashioned room key on the small writing desk. "Don't be such a diva. It's cozy."
" Cozy ? That's happy talk for claustrophobic." Even as the words of her thumbs-down review sliced the air, Kiki studied the room. In all honesty, there was a great escape quality to it. The exposed beams and brick walls of the hotel's past life as a warehouse gave it a certain charm. Then there were the light brown walnut flooring, the Moroccan rugs, and the oversized bed with huge pillows dressed in Egyptian white cotton.
Fab proceeded with the mini-tour. "You've got a plasma screen TV, DVD player, stereo, high-speed Internet access, fully stocked minibar, and twenty-four-hour room service. Joie is our in-house restaurant. The chef is incredibleI poached him from my favorite bistro in Paris. There's a spacious walk-in shower. The bathroom is stocked with Sisley products. And the terry cloth bathrobe hanging on the door is yours to keep." He paused a moment, opening his hands to the surroundings as he glanced around. "I believe that's it."
Kiki could sense his imminent departure, and a sudden urgency to delay the inevitable surprised her. "Not quite. You never told me what these walls would say if they could talk."
"Let's just leave it at this: Many famous marriages would be in trouble."
Kiki's eyes went wide. "I want names. And you can trust me. I won't tell a soul." She pantomimed locking her lips and throwing the imaginary key over her shoulder.
"Presidents, movie stars, heads of industry. That's all you'll get out of me."
Kiki crawled onto the bed and rolled over on her back. It was the body language of bored teenager. But the short cutoffs riding farther up her thighs
-
hinted at something else. She sighed. Clearly gossip wasn't his thing. "You're no fun."
"Oh, but I can be." His voice went down an octave. From sexy to sexier. In the game of counterattack flirtation, he was a Jedi master.
Kiki's lips were slightly parted, and as she did something barely legal with her tongue, Fab moved closer to the bed. Her stomach did a couple of revolutions.
And then the ring of her cellular blasted the exotic/erotic moment to smithereens.
Kiki jumped to answer. It could be Sarah Ann Duckworth calling with a way out of the public relations nightmare. Or her agent, Keith Bush, dialing in with news about a job. But the screen merely revealed that Suzi-Suzi was burning up the wire. Kiki picked up. "Remind me to talk to you about your bad timing."
"Yours isn't so
----
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Word of Caution
Breckin!
We must make a pact and vow to stick together throughout this wedding. No matter what. I say this because we are surrounded by people with questionable judgment. Here's a cheat sheet:
1) My brother is marrying a woman he met five minutes ago.
2) His bride-to-be's family runs a cheap motel chain.
3) One of the bridesmaids engineered a legal attack that allowed a vile rich man (similar to my ex-husband; okay, it WAS my ex) to totally take advantage of a defenseless young wife (that would be me) in a divorce settlement.
Would YOU trust the opinions of these people? Brace yourself. It's just you and me, darling. How is the yacht research coming along?
Air Kisses, Kiki
----
Chapter Five
True to its name, the Mistress Hideaway was tucked away in a discreet corner of the hotel, the half corridor to its entrance directly accessible by stairwell for added discretion.
Fab escorted Kiki to the suite personally, and as they entered the small haven that was no larger than four hundred square feet, he said, "If these walls could talk"
Kiki took in her temporary home. "They would probably be saying Get me a bigger room ."
Fab placed the old-fashioned room key on the small writing desk. "Don't be such a diva. It's cozy."
" Cozy ? That's happy talk for claustrophobic." Even as the words of her thumbs-down review sliced the air, Kiki studied the room. In all honesty, there was a great escape quality to it. The exposed beams and brick walls of the hotel's past life as a warehouse gave it a certain charm. Then there were the light brown walnut flooring, the Moroccan rugs, and the oversized bed with huge pillows dressed in Egyptian white cotton.
Fab proceeded with the mini-tour. "You've got a plasma screen TV, DVD player, stereo, high-speed Internet access, fully stocked minibar, and twenty-four-hour room service. Joie is our in-house restaurant. The chef is incredibleI poached him from my favorite bistro in Paris. There's a spacious walk-in shower. The bathroom is stocked with Sisley products. And the terry cloth bathrobe hanging on the door is yours to keep." He paused a moment, opening his hands to the surroundings as he glanced around. "I believe that's it."
Kiki could sense his imminent departure, and a sudden urgency to delay the inevitable surprised her. "Not quite. You never told me what these walls would say if they could talk."
"Let's just leave it at this: Many famous marriages would be in trouble."
Kiki's eyes went wide. "I want names. And you can trust me. I won't tell a soul." She pantomimed locking her lips and throwing the imaginary key over her shoulder.
"Presidents, movie stars, heads of industry. That's all you'll get out of me."
Kiki crawled onto the bed and rolled over on her back. It was the body language of bored teenager. But the short cutoffs riding farther up her thighs
-
hinted at something else. She sighed. Clearly gossip wasn't his thing. "You're no fun."
"Oh, but I can be." His voice went down an octave. From sexy to sexier. In the game of counterattack flirtation, he was a Jedi master.
Kiki's lips were slightly parted, and as she did something barely legal with her tongue, Fab moved closer to the bed. Her stomach did a couple of revolutions.
And then the ring of her cellular blasted the exotic/erotic moment to smithereens.
Kiki jumped to answer. It could be Sarah Ann Duckworth calling with a way out of the public relations nightmare. Or her agent, Keith Bush, dialing in with news about a job. But the screen merely revealed that Suzi-Suzi was burning up the wire. Kiki picked up. "Remind me to talk to you about your bad timing."
"Yours isn't so
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