Felony Romance Series: Complete Box Set (Books 1-5)

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Felony Romance Series: Complete Box Set (Books 1-5) Page 79

by Jeana E. Mann


  “That’s huge,” she said and squeezed his hand back. “No wonder you’re shook up.”

  “Yeah.” His throaty chuckle held no humor. “It was a shocker, believe me.”

  “Do you think you’ll get back together?” Lauren wasn’t sure why, but the thought of him with someone else made her uneasy. A ridiculous notion. According to the scandal rags, he’d been with hundreds of women. She could understand why. Sitting next to him in the dark, her pulse fluttered and skipped. The soft glide of his thumb over the back of her hand excited every nerve in her body.

  “No way. Seeing her for an hour made me want to use,” he said. “She’s a trigger for me and me for her. It would never work. I’m not sure how we’ll manage to raise a kid together.”

  “You’ll figure it out.”

  He made a self-deprecating noise. “I’m glad you think so. I’m a little overwhelmed at the moment.”

  They rocked in silence while Elijah tried to slow his racing thoughts. The sheer magnitude of the situation made him dizzy. Even though Chelsea refused his money, he needed to get some kind of support plan in place like yesterday. He couldn’t have his kid living in a shit hole. There would be paternity tests, lawyers, paperwork, and hours of negotiation. Thinking about it made him nauseated.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” Lauren said, a world of emotion in those few simple words. “I didn’t want to be alone tonight.”

  The soft whisper of her voice stroked him. Delicate fingers slid between his. He swallowed, unable to believe it. As a child, he’d been a nuisance to his parents. They’d dumped him with his grandmother until she’d died, and had ignored him afterward. As an adult, he was more of a commodity than a person. Her thumb brushed across the back of his hand, stirring his blood. He stared down at their interlaced fingers. The last time he’d held hands with a girl like this had been high school. He hadn’t known what he was missing.

  “Yeah? I’m glad to be here, too,” he said and raised his eyes to meet hers.

  The swing groaned as she leaned forward, closed her eyes, and brushed her lips against his. The kiss was sweet and chaste. She tasted of wine and possibilities. Their gazes collided again. Her lips parted. This time, he met her halfway.

  CHAPTER 13

  LAUREN’S HEART jumped into her throat when Elijah leaned in to return the kiss. Spearmint flavored his lips. The minute his tongue tested the seam of her mouth, she was lost in him. She thrust her fingers into his hair and tugged him closer. The silky strands slipped through her fingers. He angled his head to one side, probing deeper and dragging her down to the swing with him. His masculine groan tightened all the muscles below her waist. The swing rocked gently beneath them as her knees fell open. He settled between them like he belonged there.

  Moments earlier, she’d been lamenting the loss of a tiny life. Now she was celebrating the ability to breathe and feel. Adrift in a sea of fingers and lips, she blocked out the negative and concentrated on the glide of his dry, rough palm beneath her shirt. The simple act of touching aroused need and buried the pain. She let her hands slide down his back to cup his ass, pressing him down, trying to bring him closer, eager to feel every hard inch of him.

  Desire defined the lines of his body. The hand beneath her shirt reached for her bra and tugged down the cup. Cool air whispered over her bare skin. Her nipple hardened and peaked between his fingers. She arched into him, needing this, needing to be touched and soothed and worshiped by a man who knew a woman’s body. Elijah nipped the corner of her mouth then took her lower lip between his teeth and tugged. She groaned, more turned on than she’d ever been before. His hands pushed her shirt above her waist. She found the fly of his jeans, unfastened them, and tugged them over his hips.

  “So good,” he murmured. “You feel so good.”

  The hard, heavy length of him rested against her belly. She pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it aside. The swing rocked and swayed as Elijah helped push down her sweatpants. One of his fingers breached her center, then another. The simple touch sent pleasure pulsating down her legs. The pad of his thumb circled her clit, eliciting tiny jolts of electricity beneath her skin. It had been so long since a man had touched her like this, like he wanted to please her.

  “If you don’t want this, tell me to stop,” he whispered in her ear. His breath scorched and tickled the sensitive spot.

  “Don’t stop,” she said, hands trembling with urgency. “I need you.”

  “Are you on the pill?” he asked between licks of her ear. “I’ve got a condom.”

  “Yes,” she managed to say despite the fingers plucking her nipple and the tiny kisses on her neck. “Please. Elijah.”

  Before the words were out of her mouth, he shifted and pulled his wallet from his discarded jeans. She watched him tear open the foil packet with his teeth then roll the condom over his length. A subtle shift put the head of his cock at her entrance. She drew in a ragged breath, desperate to feel him inside her.

  One slow, deliberate thrust buried him to the root. The heat and hardness of him filled all her empty spaces and erased the pain of the day. She wiggled beneath him, desperate for motion. A slow roll of his hips answered her plea. Tingles of pleasure buzzed along her thighs. When the tips of his fingers found the crook of her knee and lifted her leg to wrap around his waist, she nearly came undone.

  He rested his forehead against hers and began to undulate his hips, hitting the sensitive spots with each thrust. The world narrowed until it was the two of them and nothing else. Their labored breaths and the squeak of the swing filled her ears. The weft of the cushion brushed her bare bottom. A light breeze whispered over her breasts. He smelled of expensive cologne and leather. She closed her eyes and let the sensations take her.

  The slow intensity of his pace stoked the fires of release inside her. He knew exactly where to touch, how to stroke, and when to pause. He gave more than he took, patiently building her into a frenzy. He kept his movements slow and controlled. Like he was savoring her. As if she was a decadent dessert. She’d meant to hold back, to keep a piece of herself from him, to prevent the act from becoming too personal. This was a mutual need for comfort and release. But when he opened his eyes and locked his gaze with hers, she plummeted headlong into their depths. This was raw, real, and more than she’d expected.

  One of his hands reached between them, finding her most erogenous zone. The skillful touch sent shards of pleasure rocketing through her. She strained into him. Release bowled her over. When her nails dug into his back, he cursed and came with her.

  Elijah buried his face in the crook of Lauren’s neck and inhaled a deep breath to steady himself. She smelled clean, like soap and powder. He took a longer draw of her scent, committing it to memory, wanting to tuck it away like something precious for a rainy day. Nestled between her thighs in the middle of suburbia, he felt safe and secure. The rise and fall of her chest slowed. He knew he should move or say something but hesitated, not wanting to ruin the moment or acknowledge that he felt unraveled by what had just happened.

  The slow, gentle stroke of her fingers through his hair broke him. Tremors shook his body, and he didn’t know why. She murmured in his ear, sweet words about how good he felt, turning him inside out. Sex had always been a meaningless, impersonal exercise. He wasn’t used to feeling so much, so raw, so undone.

  “It’s alright,” she said over and over again. “It’s going to be alright.”

  When she spoke like that, with her lips against his skin and his dick still buried inside her, he could almost believe it. Hell, he wanted to believe it with every fiber of his being. If only he had someone like her to walk beside him, he might be able to trudge through the mess he’d made of his life.

  “I’m fine,” he said when he was able to speak again. “But you’re looking a little worse for wear.” He lifted on his elbows and smiled at her. The elastic had slipped from her ponytail. Her hair tumbled over her shoulders in disarray. The swollen redness of her lips drew his gaz
e. He’d done that to her. Male smugness filled him, and for just a second, he felt like himself again.

  “I’ve just been fucked by a rock star on my porch swing. What do you expect?” She smiled. An unexpected lightness swept over him. He laughed and sat up, sliding out of her with a hiss of breath.

  “I take it that’s a first for you?” he asked. After removing the condom, he tucked himself back into his jeans and zipped up the fly.

  “Definitely. For both. And you?” She sat up, tugged her clothing into place, and began running her fingers through her hair.

  “Me too. For the porch swing and…” The words trailed away as he thought about what had just happened. It had been different in a good way. He scrubbed a hand over his face, overcome with vulnerability, not wanting her to see his confusion. “Yeah.”

  “That was pretty amazing,” she said, her voice languid and sated. Those words, spoken through kiss-swollen lips, warmed him in places he hadn’t known existed. She placed a palm on his chest, over the place where his heart beat like a bass drum. He put his hand over hers and pressed it into his skin, absorbing her sweetness, relieved to find he hadn’t lost his heart after all.

  CHAPTER 14

  “ARE YOU hungry?” she asked once they were dressed. She rose from the swing and extended her hand in invitation. Hesitation clouded his eyes. She let her hand fall, uncertain, but he slid his fingers between hers.

  They went to the kitchen. After a thorough search of the cabinets, she found a couple of cans of soup and heated them. He was still bare-chested, his shirt lost in the shadows of the porch. She tried not to stare at the way his muscles rippled or the intricate design of his tattoos. To think he’d been inside her less than twenty minutes ago gave her a vicarious thrill. She bit back a smile.

  Fucked by a rock star on the porch. Cadence is going to flip out.

  “I have a confession to make,” Elijah said once they finished eating. His unnerving blue eyes studied her as she stowed their dishes in the dishwasher.

  “Well, that sounds ominous.” A twinge of nerves danced in her stomach.

  “I took your cell phone when you weren’t looking and put my number in it.” One of his eyebrows lifted. His fingers drummed on the counter in a repetitive rhythm.

  “Why?” Phone numbers meant more than a one-night stand. She hadn’t considered the possibility of more and wasn’t sure she wanted it. He was hot and sexy, but he was also famous. More than one night could complicate her carefully orchestrated anonymity.

  “What if I need to call you? Or you need to get hold of me?” His elbows rested on the counter in front of her, chin in his hands. The smile on his lips slipped past her guard and melted a tiny corner of her heart. “Is that okay?”

  “It just seems a little personal.” She ducked her chin to hide her frown. A tiny surge of panic knotted inside her. This unexpected event had her thoughts bouncing everywhere. What if there was more? The glimmer of possibility sent adrenalin surging throughout her. She squashed the thought. He wasn’t the kind of guy for long-term. She needed normal and responsible. Elijah Crowe was none of those things.

  “You let me fuck you on the porch, but you don’t want me to have your phone number?” He raised an eyebrow. A sliver of hurt flickered across his expression then disappeared.

  “It’s fine,” she said and turned her back to wipe down the counter. Her hands shook. She was being ridiculous and mean. It was just a phone number, not her Social Security or bank account numbers.

  “Are you sure? I promise to use it responsibly.” Somehow, he’d gotten closer until he stood beside her, his arm brushing hers. “Feel free to delete or block me if I misuse it.” Then he did something completely unexpected. He took her hand, raised it to his lips, and planted a soft kiss on her knuckles. When he peered up at her, his amusement made her smile.

  “Okay. I might have overreacted a little.” She relaxed and allowed the lingering touch of his lips to wash over her.

  “You think?” he teased. “I had no idea exchanging phone numbers was such a commitment. I’m going to have to rethink my contact list.”

  “It’s just that I’m a very private person.” How could she explain the importance behind her choice to remain in the shadows? She’d lived his life, to some degree. She knew the pressures of existing in a fish bowl, having every minute of her day documented by photographers and tabloids, unable to leave the house for fear of harassment. Was an explanation even necessary? He’d be out of her life before the end of the day and on to his next adventure.

  “Let’s get out of here,” he said. His face brightened with energy.

  “It’s one o’clock in the morning.” She searched his face, confused. “Where did you want to go?”

  “Anywhere. Somewhere quiet. Belize maybe. Or Cabo?”

  She laughed, amused by his total incomprehension of her life. “I haven’t taken a vacation in five years.”

  “Shut the fuck up,” he said, eyes wide. “Why?”

  “I like to work. My job means everything to me.” Without looking at him, she rinsed the sponge in the sink and set it down.

  “Look, if it’s about money…” When he saw the scowl on her face, he stopped talking mid-sentence.

  “It’s not about money,” she said, and scrubbed at a nonexistent spot on the counter. “I have enough money, but I can’t take off work without notice.”

  “Don’t say you can’t,” he interrupted. “I hate it when people say that. You can, you just don’t want to.”

  “Right. I don’t want to.” She crossed her arms over her chest and scowled.

  “Think about it.” He took a step toward her. “White sandy beaches.” He took another step, radiating bad-boy hotness like a furnace. “Clear blue water. You in a bikini—or nothing at all.” His eyes sparkled with mischief. “And I’ll be by your side to worship you and grant your every wish.”

  By the time he finished the last sentence, he’d reached her and stroked a hand down the length of her arm. She shivered as the tiny hairs lifted in the wake of his fingertips. He exhaled through his nose and looked her over from head to toe. The heat of his gaze made her core clench with delicious need.

  “I’m not going anywhere with you,” she said. He cupped a hand around the nape of her neck and angled her head to the side, dragging his lips along the curve of her jaw. Her breath hissed through her teeth. “You’re crazy.”

  “I’ve been called worse,” he said right before he dragged her to the floor and made love to her on the travertine marble tile.

  CHAPTER 15

  DURING A deep and dream-filled sleep, Lauren awoke to a flurry of tickles on her belly. She blinked against the bright morning light and found her fingers buried deep into Elijah’s messy hair. His cheek rested against her stomach, eyes closed, lips parted. One of his arms circled her hips, pinning her to the mattress. The reassuring weight of him anchored her. It also cut off the circulation to her lower extremities. She shifted, wincing against the stabbing needles in her legs as the blood returned to her feet.

  “Good morning.” Those amazing eyes fluttered open. He rolled away from her. A wide grin curved his mouth. “Sleep well?”

  “Um, yes. Did you?” It was impossible not to return his infectious smile.

  “Why, yes, as a matter of fact I did. Thank you for asking.” With his hair spiked from her clutching fingers and mischief in his eyes, he took her breath away.

  “I wonder what time it is?” She groped along the nightstand for her cellphone and frowned at the blank display. “I forgot to charge my phone.”

  Elijah leaned across her and dug his phone out of his jeans pocket. “It’s almost one in the afternoon.”

  “What? No.” She threw off the bedclothes and sprang to her feet, disregarding her nudity. Under normal circumstances, she would’ve hidden behind a sheet to shield him from her jiggling parts. “I’ve got to get to work. I’m late.”

  She threw open a dresser drawer and rummaged for sweats and a T-shirt. T
here was no time for a shower. She’d have to make do with a quick wash in the sink. As she hopped about the room on one foot and struggled to pull on the sweats, she caught a glimpse of Elijah’s amused face. She paused long enough to grab one of the pillows from the floor and launched it at him.

  “It’s not funny,” she said. He blocked the attack by catching the pillow. “You know I hate to be late. I’m never late. Oh my God.”

  “It’s God’s way of telling you to take a few days off. Call in. Tell them you’re sick or something. Let’s go somewhere and have fun.”

  “I already said no.” With less than an hour before the start of her shift, there wasn’t time to be subtle.

  “Another word I hate,” he muttered, almost to himself.

  “Well, get used to it, because it’s one of my favorites.” After a hasty search beneath the bed, she found her sneakers and sat on the floor to pull them on.

  “You don’t want to go?” he asked. “Is it me?” The tone of his voice gave her pause, and she glanced up to find him watching her with honest bewilderment.

  “It’s not you,” she said. “Well, not completely.” His eyebrows drew together, and a small pang of guilt prodded her conscience. She didn’t have time for this conversation right now, but he deserved to know where she stood. “Look, you should understand a few things about me. I don’t give a crap about how much money you have or how big your house is or what kind of car you drive. Things like that mean nothing to me.”

 

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