I see a car with the Lyft sticker on the side pull up to the curb.
It’s my ride.
“What do I do now?” he asks. The question catches me by surprise.
“Go try to find a real job,” I say. “And get rid of that gun.”
“But what if I need it for protection?” he asks.
I shake my head. “I’m the last person you should be getting advice from.”
“I know, but you’re the only one I can trust. Please tell me.”
I shrug my shoulders as the driver puts my bag in the car.
“Is the gun registered to you?” I ask.
“I bought it just for this,” he says.
I laugh.
I am not sure that you need that many street smarts to know not to use the gun that belongs to you to commit crimes. That just seems like something you could learn from a cop show on television.
“What do I do if your mom comes looking for me?” Shephard asks.
“She’s harmless…physically I mean,” I add. “But if you do see her, tell her that her debt to Marlo is paid and she can go fuck herself.”
36
When I go back…
My flight back to Maui, thanks to the elusive Mr. Crawford, is much more comfortable than my flight here and I sleep almost the entire way there, lying flat on a seat that’s almost the size of a bunk bed, in my first class cabin. I wake up rested and refreshed and have time to fix my hair and makeup and make myself look presentable.
I thought that coming here would make me anxious and sleepless but in fact, I feel the complete opposite. Leaving Boston and everything that happened with my mother behind seems to infuse me with energy. By the time we land my worries all vanish and I’m excited to see Sydney.
While I wait for my bags, watching the carousel in the baggage claim go ‘round and ’round, I know that seeing Nicholas again should give me some pause. He made an absurd proposal to me, one that only a crazy person would entertain. Yet, a tingling sensation spreads throughout my body at the thought of seeing him again.
Luckily, with the time change, I have the whole day to think about it. I won’t be seeing him until this evening.
“Olive!” My mouth drops open.
He’s standing outside the double doors, right on the other side of the baggage claim, holding a sign with my name on it.
“I…I thought that Sydney was picking me up,” I say.
He folds the paper up and slides it into the pocket of his muted Hawaiian shirt. It hangs loosely around his broad shoulders, but it’s not so baggy that it completely obfuscates his chiseled body.
“I asked her for a favor,” he says, taking the handle of my large suitcase away from me.
Left with just the backpack that I took on the plane as my carry-on, I feel naked. When we get outside, the sweltering humidity overwhelms my senses.
He leads me toward a new BMW 8-series convertible in gray metallic and opens the passenger door. I place my backpack in between my legs and fish out a pair of sunglasses to shield my eyes both from the sun and his eyes.
Through the side view mirror, I watch him put my suitcase into the trunk and the way his hair falls into his face with each move. It is only after we pull out of the short-term parking garage that I realize that I’ve been holding my breath.
“Thank you for coming,” Nicholas says, smiling at the corner of his mouth. I give him a slight nod.
“How’s your mother?”
I shrug, not really wanting to get into any of the details. “Thank you for helping me. She’s fine.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
“I don’t really know how long it will take me to pay you back.”
He glances over at me as we turn onto the winding two-lane highway going along the razor’s edge of a cliffside.
“Don’t worry about it.”
We sit in silence for a while.
I wait for him to say something but then think that maybe he is doing the same thing.
Still, the silence is comforting. Usually, I am very uneasy being in a small space with someone without saying a word, but not with Nicholas.
He has an easy energy to him. He doesn’t demand me to perform or pretend. I like that.
“I need you to do something for me,” he says as we turn off the main road and into a development.
There is a large gate out front and a security guard who waves us through as soon as he sees Nicholas’ identification.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“You like to play games?” he asks, igniting a spark deep within me.
“I don’t know. I guess it depends on the game.”
“I think you’ll like this one.”
He pulls up to a five-star resort and hands his keys to a valet who is waiting out front. Another employee opens my door and helps me out. They place our bags on a rolling suitcase cart and I follow Nicholas to the front desk.
After checking in, they show us to a two-bedroom penthouse suite with a large wrap-around balcony.
“That will be all, thank you,” Nicholas says, handing the bellman a tip in the palm of his hand.
“Thank you for staying with us, Mr. Landon. Mrs. Landon. Please let me know if there is anything that you need.”
I look out at the impossibly vast ocean through the floor-to-ceiling sliding doors that span the entire west side of the suite.
Nicholas walks up to me from behind. He stops short of touching me but I can feel his breath on the back of my neck.
“Why did he call you Mr. Landon?” I ask.
Nicholas runs his fingers up my arm, sending shivers down my spine. The comfort that I felt only fifteen minutes ago is replaced by a sense of free fall. But I’m not afraid.
“Why am I Mrs. Landon?” I ask, turning to face him.
“Those are our names here at the Wailea Lani Resort and Spa,” he says, moving the hair off my neck and bringing his lips so close to mine I can almost feel them on my skin.
I close my eyes to enjoy the moment. I wait for him to come closer. I wait for him to touch me. I open my eyes when he doesn’t.
He takes a step away from me, smiling with his eyes. My body yearns for his but I don’t dare make the first move.
“In my line of work, I am required to use a number of aliases. Here, I am Mr. Landon and you are my wife, Mrs. Landon.”
I straighten my back and broaden my shoulders.
“So, this is the game you want me to play?” I ask.
He takes another step closer to me. Tilting my chin up to his face, he runs his finger down my neck. My eyes grow heavy from the anticipation that builds in the pit of my stomach. I move an inch closer, waiting for his lips to touch mine.
But instead he brings them over to my ear and whispers, “This is the game you are going to play.”
37
When we play a game…
He unzips the garment bag and pulls out a short black cocktail dress.
“What’s that for?” I ask.
“My assistant picked it out for you.”
“I don’t have any shoes to go with it.”
He pulls out a pair of nude pumps and unzips another garment bag with his own newly pressed suit. Without even turning around, he begins to unbutton his shirt. Our eyes make contact and I’m the first one to look away. Not really away, more like down. My gaze drifts down his perfectly round pectoral muscles.
Once his fingers unbutton the last button, his shirt falls open and onto the bed. I stare at the way his biceps flex and relax with each move. His sun-kissed skin is perfectly mocha brown. It looks so delicious that I almost want to lick him. My tongue runs over my bottom lip in anticipation.
As my eyes focus back on his, I notice those flecks of gold again. When he smiles, they sparkle. He unbuttons his belt and lets his pants drop to the floor. I get a glimpse of his black, hip hugging boxer briefs that accentuate every part of him.
My cheeks burn and I look away.
“It’s okay, you
can look if you want to,” he says.
My mouth salivates as I stand facing the ocean, waiting for him to put on his suit. I hear him pull up his pants, buckle the belt, and tuck in his shirt. Only then do I feel like it’s safe to turn around.
“All decent,” he says, cocking his head to one side.
I press my tongue to the roof of my mouth, blocking it from touching my lips.
I know exactly what he’s doing.
He’s teasing me.
Playing with me.
Toying with me.
He is trying to seduce me. Well, I’m not going to be the one to crack first.
“You look nice,” I say, running my eyes over his well-tailored exquisite suit. It fits him like a glove, emphasizing all of his best features.
He sits down on the bed and waits. From the positioning of his body, I can see that he’s challenging me. Nicholas leans back on one arm, propping up his head with the other, as if to say, “you wouldn’t dare change in front of me like I did in front of you.”
For a moment, I consider going into the bathroom for some privacy, but I can’t bear to break this sexual chemistry that’s brewing in between us. Besides, I want to show him that I’m a formidable opponent. That two can play this game.
With my eyes fixed on his, I take off my cardigan and step out of my shoes. He moves his fingers closer to his mouth and leans a little bit closer to me. I can see his anticipation building and it infuses me with power. Even from across the room, I can feel the energy that’s building between us.
I slide down my leggings and let my tank top drop down over my panties. A moment of truth.
A part of me is tempted to turn around for a semblance of privacy but another part pushes me to go on.
I want to make him sit up.
I want to make him stand up.
I want to make him push me down on the bed and kiss me.
I pull my shirt over my head, tossing it onto the floor. He sits up and moves to the edge of the bed. That’s a good boy.
I watch him as he looks my body up and down. Without uttering a word, he makes me feel desired.
I reach back to unhook my bra. His mouth drops open and he raises to his feet.
Come on over, I say silently. Put your hands on me. I hold my chin upward, elongating my neck.
He licks his lips.
He walks over. I close my eyes to brace for impact. But nothing happens. When I open them a moment later, he’s standing in front of me holding the dress.
Nicholas hands me the hanger.
I thought that I had broken him, but he turned the game on its head. I tense my jaw and steel my eyes.
He smiles in that self-satisfactory way that makes me both want to punch him and fuck him.
“You remember what I said earlier when I made my offer?”
I take the dress off the hanger.
“Remind me.”
“You said that you wouldn’t have sex with me,” Nicholas says.
I exhale trying to expel the anger out of me.
Taking his finger, he runs it down my neck and then around the outside of my breast and down my side.
“And I promised you that before our time is up, you’d be begging me to do it.”
I clench my fists around the hanger until I see the whites of my knuckles. I hate him. I hate him for being right. I hate him for how much I want him.
“Why don’t you try on the dress,” Nicholas says. He takes a step away from me and sits down on the bench at the edge of the bed.
I shouldn’t like the way that he speaks to me but I lose myself in the nuance of how he says everything. He makes demands instead of requests and he teases me by seducing me with his gestures.
I pull the dress over my head, slipping it on. I straighten it out in front of the full length mirror and admire how well it hugs my body.
I can only pull the zipper halfway up and turn back to him for help.
Feeling his hands on the small of my back makes every part of me shiver. His hands slide expertly up to the nape of my neck making my head tilt back from pleasure.
Slipping on the pair of pumps that Nicholas’ assistant picked out for me, completes the look. I don’t know who she is but looking at myself in this outfit makes me want to ask her to be my permanent stylist. Imagine never having to worry about picking out something to wear again. As someone who isn’t very keen on clothes shopping, this is a dream come true.
“Your assistant is very good at what she does,” I say without taking my eyes off myself in the mirror. “It’s a perfect fit and it looks…amazing.”
“You are the one who makes the dress look amazing,” Nicholas corrects me. I smile at the compliment and thank him.
He hands me a small purse and I move some of the contents of my backpack into it, phone, lip gloss, wallet.
“You won’t need that tonight,” Nicholas says, pointing to the wallet. “Or for the rest of your time here, for that matter.”
“Why is that?”
“I’ll take care of everything.”
“Is that part of the deal that you mentioned earlier?” I ask.
He nods.
“Is tonight part of the deal, too? Me pretending to be your wife, Mrs. Landon?”
He shakes his head.
“Tonight is a trial,” he says. “I want to see what you’re capable of.”
My heart jumps into my throat and my hands get ice cold.
Nicholas walks up to me. He stands so close that I can smell the mint Tic Tac that he has just popped into his mouth.
When I take a step back, I realize that my back is all the way against the front door.
“Who are we supposed to be?” I ask.
“Newlyweds from Boston. We are madly in love and are here on our honeymoon,” he says. He takes another step closer to me and I straighten my back against the door.
“Why are we from Boston?” I whisper. My body yearns for his but I don’t let myself touch him first.
“The best lies are those that are closest to the truth,” he says, touching a strand of my hair and twisting it around his finger.
His eyes drift up to mine and watch me as I watch him lick his lips. I can almost feel the tension that builds between us. I can’t take it much longer. I bite my tongue to keep myself from screaming. Give in. Give in, I say. Give in so you can put your hands on him.
His hand makes its way up my neck and toward my lips. My mouth falls open. He runs his finger across my lower lip and whispers, “Tell me to stop.”
My knees start to buckle. I can’t say no even if I wanted to.
He presses his mouth to mine and a wave of relief sweeps over me.
Finally.
It’s finally happening.
I reach out for his face pulling him closer. Our tongues collide, hard at first, and then quickly find their rhythm. I bury my hands in his hair. He wraps his arms around my waist.
I reach for his tie. When I try to untuck it, he grabs my wrists and pulls them apart.
“No,” he whispers just as I think he’s going to kiss me again. He lets go. My hands drop to my sides.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, trying to hide my disappointment.
With a wink, Nicholas says, “We have a job to do first.”
Thank you for reading TELL ME TO STOP!
I hope you enjoyed Nicholas and Olive’s story. Can’t wait to find out what happens next?
One-click TELL ME TO GO Now!
His offer: 365 days and nights = $1 million
My addendum: I’m not doing that
His promise: Before the year is up, you’ll beg for it
My days of lying and stealing are over, but then Nicholas Crawford makes me an offer I can’t refuse. Spend a year pretending to be his significant other in exchange for $1 million dollars.
I tried to put that part of my life, and those hard-won skills, behind me. But I need the money. He needs a partner.
I told him that I’d never sleep with him. He promised me
that I would end up begging for it. Now, I want him more than ever.
Especially when I run my fingers over his chiseled body and he teases me with his tongue.
Especially when he puts his hands on the small of my back and kisses me.
I want him so much I am going to scream. I want him so much…I might even beg.
One-click TELL ME TO GO Now!
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Connect with Charlotte Byrd
Sign up for my newsletter to find out when I have new books!
You can also join my Facebook group, Charlotte Byrd’s Reader Club, for exclusive giveaways and sneak peaks of future books.
I appreciate you sharing my books and telling your friends about them. Reviews help readers find my books! Please leave a review on your favorite site.
Also by Charlotte Byrd
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* * *
Tell me Series
Tell Me to Stop
Tell Me to Go
Tell Me to Stay
Tell Me to Run
Tell Me to Fight
Tell Me to Lie
* * *
Tangled Series
Tangled up in Ice
Tangled up in Pain
Tangled up in Lace
Tangled up in Hate
Tangled up in Love
* * *
Black Series
Black Edge
Tell Me to Stop Page 13
