Page 40 of Meet Me in Montreal

“Okay, I didn’t forget what you said about your stuff. Show me,” she said expectantly, sitting on the bed and crossing her legs.

“I told you, they’re not that great.”

“Since when has that stopped you? Show me.”

Santino hesitated, but now there was a look of suspicion on her face. If he said flat out refused, she might think he was hiding something, and they’d be back to square fucking one in the trust department. So, he bit the bullet and retrieved his sketchbook. He got settled on the bed opposite her, flipping through the first set of pages slowly to stall for time. Maybe she’d get bored and agree to skip the rest.

“I’ve been working on this superhero series. This dude, who I don’t have a name for yet.”

The man was big, muscular, blond, and bearing an axe. He had drawn motion lines indicating the hero could fly.

“He’s hot,” she giggled. Most likely, the drinks they’d had were still making her tipsy. “You should call him Joey Badass.”

“Cool, glad you like him.” He attempted to pull the book away, but she held on with determined fingers.

“What are you not trying to show me?” Vanessa asked, the suspicion dawning in her eyes all over again.

Fuck it. Let her see.

At first, he kept his eyes on the page, and she began flipping through the next set of drawings, glancing up to gauge her reaction when she paused and stared at the female character. It wasn’t an accident that she looked like Vanessa in a form-fitting spandex suit and short cape. His heart ticked away like a clock as she traced the character with her long, elegant fingers.

“She looks cool,” she remarked softly. The air was suddenly charged with electricity.

He nodded. “Yeah. I’m still working on her name, but I know what her traits are. She’s powerful, sexy. Real smart. Has this strong sense of right and wrong.”

“What’s her Kryptonite?” Vanessa was still looking at the drawing, not at him. “They always have to have some vulnerability, right? Perfect characters are boring. They don’t keep your attention for long.”

“She’s far from boring. And no, she’s not perfect. She’s got a couple flaws.” Santino was dying to reach over and touch her, but he fought the urge. She still wasn’t looking at him. The scent of her honeysuckle hair hit him right in the gut. “Her problem is, she’s trapped in this invisible force field that goes wherever she goes. It won’t let anyone in, and she can’t figure her way out.”

Vanessa exhaled slowly, shakily. “Sounds intense for her.”

“Yeah. This guy,” he said, pointing to the page with the tall, built hero, “this guy’s quest is to defeat some bad guys who are out to hurt her. I guess that plot needs more work but that’sbasically it. And then he has to figure out how to deactivate the force field so they can be together. So he can just love her.”

“Oh,” she said with a shaky breath. “What happens if he can’t?”

“Well, see, that can’t happen. The last time he tried, and it didn’t work, it almost killed him. He has to win. If he doesn’t, I don’t know what’s gonna happen to him.”

He’d spoken quietly, but his heart was thundering so loudly it was vibrating through his entire body. Fit as he was, his chest was hardly strong enough to contain it or the surge of emotion flooding him while he waited to hear her response, suspended between wild hope and a sudden desperation. He wished he could look into her eyes and see what she was feeling.

“She never asked for any of that,” she said. Her voice was unsteady. “She never asked him to save her.” Vanessa swiped at her face, and that’s when he couldn’t hold back anymore. He reached to touch her cheek and lean in for a kiss, but she pulled back. “I’ve gotta pee. Too many shots.” Quickly, she got up, giving him a trembling smile, and raced to the bathroom.

Fuck.He hadn’t meant to say all that. It was clearly too much, too soon. Trying not to be discouraged, he put the sketchpad away, put the lights on low, and stretched out as he heard the shower run. It took willpower to stop himself from going in there and offering her his body for comfort, but he knew that would be an even bigger mistake. Sure enough, when she emerged, she was wearing the full “don’t touch me” outfit again, from the bonnet to the scarf and robe.

Slipping in on the other side of the bed, she was still quiet. He assumed she was already asleep until she said, “I love your characters. You should publish it.”

That surprised him. She really thought that highly of his drawings? Before he could reach for her again, she said, “Good night.”

So close. He felt her heat, her energy, reaching out to him even if the rest of her was shutting down again. His body flushing, he turned over to face the opposite direction. Coiling tension heightened inside him at having to restrain himself yet again. Every bit of him was hard, at the ready, but after what seemed like hours of listening to her breathing, he slowly wound down. Somehow, he managed to sleep.

Then there was softness and warmth against his jawline, something round in his hand, and something else firm and plump pressing into his hips. Rhythmic breaths went from sleepy and slow to faster as his hard morning wood pressed deeper into that inviting plumpness. A hard point pressed into his palm, and instinctively, he pincered it between two fingertips.

He came awake more fully, realizing the soft, cloth-covered globes cradling his hard dick was moving, and he was sliding up and down the crease. Through her back, the vibrations of Vanessa’s heartbeat were stronger and faster. Leaning forward, Santino pulled that scarf down and off, and it fluttered off the side of the bed. Her breath fanned out in an unsteady rush.

Santino turned over abruptly. Vanella’s eyes widened when he trapped her between his hands on the bed and wouldn’t let her flee. Not this time.

“I—” she tried to say.

He leaned down and kissed her, not a gentle let’s-get-to-know-each-other-again kiss. This was rough, open-mouthed, his tongue invading, conquering, reclaiming what had already been his.

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