Creative License Read Online Free Page A

Mrs. P they’d met and married in Vegas, which was the truth, was just another sign she didn’t consider him good enough for her. And maybe he wasn’t.
    He glanced at her as he turned the key. Lily looked tired, but beautiful. Shadows crowded her pale brown eyes. It had been all he could do not to drape an arm around her in the cab, pull her close and rest her head on his shoulder. A surge of blood to regions south reminded him he needed to put a stop to that kind of thinking. Lily was here as a favor to him. He wasn’t going to make her feel uncomfortable in any way. Although with her around he might be the one spending more time uncomfortable, or taking more showers than usual to relieve a particular discomfort. It would be a long couple of days.
    He opened the door and swung it wide. “Shouldn’t I carry you over the threshold or something?” Caleb’s cock throbbed at the thought of touching the silky skin on the back of her thighs, pressing her body to his chest. He wouldn’t just carry her over the threshold—he’d take her right to the bedroom.
    “Smartass, I’ll walk, thank you.” Lily stepped into the angled hall and walked toward the living room.
    She glanced left into his galley-style kitchen and he had to remind himself there wasn’t even a coffee cup in the sink. He’d cleaned the apartment top to bottom before he’d left for the studio that morning.
    He looked around, trying to see his apartment through Lily’s eyes. A tan couch sat against one wall, the quilt his mother had made for him draped across one of the arms. The coffee table had seen better days but it was functional and the bowl of sea glass sent beams of blue and green across its surface. He winced, noticing not a single piece of artwork hung on the walls. He supposed that might be considered strange for an artist’s house, but he didn’t like to surround himself with his art and, though he admired many artists, he preferred the idea of the blank canvas.
    She turned, a twinkle in those golden eyes. “No plasma screen? I thought all bachelors had at least a thirty-inch plasma. Isn’t it in the handbook?”
    He glanced toward the old tube TV on its stand next to his philodendron and scratched his head. “I guess starving artists are the exception. I don’t watch much TV anyway.”
    “You don’t look starving to me.”
    The appreciation in Lily’s eyes hit him like a ton of bricks. It was all he could do not to march across the living room and take her in his arms, sweep her up and carry her to the bedroom. Stop it, Caleb. Isn’t that what got you into this mess to begin with? He smiled. “I manage.”
    “So…where do I sleep?”
    Oh, oh, here is where it got tricky. “In the bedroom.” He took her suitcase into the bedroom and set it down on the bed.
    “And where will you sleep?” she asked, following him in.
    Caleb took a deep breath. “In here. It’s a big bed and we’re both adults.”
    Her skin paled further. “You expect me to sleep here? With you? Buddy, you’ve got a lot of nerve.” Her dark eyes flashed.
    “Look, two adults can sleep in a bed without having sex. Married people do it all the time.”
    She looked from the bed to him. “No way. I told you I wouldn’t sleep with you. If you think I’m going to see you again and feel all lovey-dovey, you’ve got another think coming.”
    “Did I say anything about lovey-dovey?”
    Her eyes narrowed. “I’m not going to fall in bed with you.”
    Caleb smiled. “I didn’t ask you to have sex with me.”
    Lily stared at him, her pupils wide and yes, her nipples hard against her blouse. Was she as turned on as he was? She stared at the window for a minute. He took a deep breath. Honesty was the best policy, right? “Look, I’m not going to deny that I find you attractive, but I won’t try to seduce you. The truth is I can’t afford a hotel room.”
    Boy was that the truth. It would take him six months to pay off the flight. Her eyes widened as though