“Hey, man. Thanks for stopping and hope your ankle heals quickly.” With a quick handshake, I move away and skip the last reporter. The press here is relentless, and I’m not in the mood for it tonight.
I amble my way through the crowds and find Dom, who’s talking to some up-and-coming Hollywood producer. I smile politely, but it does little to hide my shitty mood, and he shoots me a look to settle down. As excited as I should be, I just wanted Elle to share this evening with me. She should be with me, and now I just want this night to be over.
* * *
Three after parties later, my mood has turned somber, I’m feeling the whiskey in my blood, and my ankle hurts like a motherfucker. I did as Dom asked—I showed up, made the rounds, smiled for the cameras, and rubbed elbows and shook hands with the people that counted . . . and somehow, I still feel unfulfilled. My mind, but mostly my heart, isn’t into tonight because it is with Elle.
The look on her face when I asked—no, damn near begged her to come with me, was something between defeat and hurt, and I don’t know why. Her walls went up, and I didn’t have time to break them down before she’d demanded I leave. Her telling me to go home had crushed me. It felt like her shutting me out . . . it felt final.
The limo finally pulls up, and I slide into the soft leather bench seat in the back.
I tell the driver to take me to my apartment when the only place I want to go is to Elle’s condo.
“Go home.” Those words Elle spoke shake me and echo in my ears while simultaneously making my heart ache.
I rake my hand over my face and pinch my eyes closed, letting the alcohol running through my veins relax my muscles. Whiskey should have helped ease my mind, let me forget about Elle, it only made it worse. I saw her in every woman there tonight.
The drive is quiet, but it still takes longer than I’d like it to. I just want to sink into my bed and let my mind rest.
We roll up to the simple, gray stucco apartment building—the place I’ve called home for the last two years, and the driver parks near the base of the stairs. It’s definitely not West Hollywood, that’s for damn sure. The driver opens the door, and I step out carefully, my ankle throbbing in my cast. Thanking him, I shrug out of my tuxedo jacket, flinging it over my shoulder as I make my way up the concrete stairs to my second-floor apartment.
The overhead light flickers as I try to get the keys out of my pocket. For the last two nights, I’ve stayed here alone.
I’d only been at Elle’s for just under two weeks, but that doesn’t change the fact that my heart hurts that I won’t be curled around her soft body tonight. She’s been a source of comfort, a place of peace, someone I’ve grown to love in a very short time.
Love.
As I hobble closer to the end of the hall, I see someone outside my door. In the dim light, it’s hard to make out exactly who it is, but as I draw nearer, I know I would recognize her anywhere. Elle.
She sitting on the ground, her back pressed to my door. Her long arms wrapped around her knees, which are pulled tightly against her chest. Her forehead rests on those knees, and her long hair hangs around her, hiding her beautiful face.
When she hears me, she raises her head, lifting her chin to look up at me. Those beautiful eyes are swollen and red, a sign she’s been crying—but she’s here. For me. And fuck if that doesn’t mean the world to me. She came here looking for me.
Without a word, I reach out my hand to help her up. She slides her hand into my hold and I pull gently, lifting her to her feet. Her eyes search mine. For what? I don’t know. An apology? Acceptance? Now isn’t the time to talk, so I open my arms, and she does exactly what I hope she will. She falls into them. Her face presses to my chest and her arms wrap tightly around me, and I hold her back.
Tighter than I’ve ever held anyone before because I’m not letting her go—ever.
Fifteen
Elle
“I missed you,” I mumbled at the collar of his tuxedo shirt as I clung to him, praying this was real. I pressed my nose up under his chin, inhaling him.
The sexiest man in the world.
If I hadn’t known it before, I’d known it when he’d stood in front of me wearing a tuxedo, the jacket slung over his shoulder and the top buttons of his shirt undone as if he were a modern-day James Dean.
Trouble.
So much trouble.
And I was running for it.
“You’re here,” he rumbled at the top of my head.
“I couldn’t stay away,” I whispered as my hands curled tighter into his shirt.
“Good,” he muttered, his warm body nudging my back against the door. I hit it with an oomph. “Because I fucking missed you, too.”
I looked up to search his face. “I’m scared.”
He reached out and brushed his thumb across the dampness of my cheek. “What are you scared of?”
“You.”
He grinned a cocky grin, though his eyes were tender. “I thought that was supposed to be the other way around. You were the one who ran me over.”
“Then why am I the one who feels broken?”
“I don’t know, Elle, but I think it’s about time you let me in on that.”
“Just tell me you want me for me.”
He nudged closer, his chest against mine, his breath filtering down all around.
Whiskey and warmth.
My insides trembled.
Want rising high.
He nuzzled his nose up the side of my jaw, before he whispered in my ear, “I’ve wanted you since the second I opened my eyes and thought I was looking up at an angel. You stole my breath then but it’s my heart you’re stealing now.”
“Kas.”
He didn’t answer.
He dipped down and kissed me. Firm presses of his lips and soft sweeps of his tongue. I felt him grow hard against my belly, and a shudder ridged through my body. He fumbled behind him to get the key into the lock, and the door banged open to a darkened apartment that was probably smaller than my whole room.
And I knew it wasn’t fair that I’d judged him.
He might have wanted to be an actor, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want me.
Backing me through the darkness, I knocked into the back of his couch, his chuckle deep when he dipped me over it for a beat and kissed me. The second he did, something fired, a fierce intensity that lit between us.
He yanked me up, his kiss becoming possessive. Demanding. “I want you, Elle. Fuck, I want you. This last week was brutal, thinking I wasn’t ever going to see you again.”
“I couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t stop thinking about you. Wondering about you. I watched you on the red carpet. You owned every inch of it, Kas. You were the most striking man there.”
I could feel his grin against my mouth as he edged me into the single bedroom at the back of the apartment. “So, you’re telling me that you like me?”
Gulping down my reservations, I pulled back, staring at him through the shadows. That same fire smoldered from his face as he stared back at me. The sexiest man alive, and there he stood, ready to adore me. “I think I’m falling for you.”
“Good thing, baby, because I’m already right there ready to catch you.”
He nudged me back, sending me tumbling onto his full bed with the blankets and sheets twisted.
My giggle bounced off the walls. “Oh, you’re just going to toss me over the side.”
He smirked as he worked through the rest of his buttons and then twisted out of his shirt.
My mouth went dry as he pulled the white undershirt off, and I pressed my knees together as I took him in.
Chiseled chest and golden skin and perfect, angled jaw. Standing there looking every bit the star I knew he was going to be.
He tugged at the button on his pants. “Sometimes people need a little push.”
This boy had pushed every single one of my buttons.
He leaned over and worked free the Velcro straps of his walking boot and then kicked out o
f his pants.
My breath left me on a needy sigh.
There he stood in the exact same kind of underwear as he’d worn on that billboard that had changed everything.
Set us on this course.
It could have been nothing more than a detour, but somehow, I knew I was getting ready to embark on one wild ride.
He climbed onto the bed, crawling over me, kissing me sweetly as he pressed his hands under my shirt. His palms hot and sure against my bare skin.
Inciting a fire.
I arched.
“Impatient,” he murmured through a chuckle.
“I need you.”
“Think I already made it plenty clear you have me.”
I stared up at him through the yellowed glow of the streetlamps filtering in from outside. “Then take me.”
Then Kas.
He did.
He undressed me slowly. Differently from how he’d ever been before. And when he nestled his bare body between my thighs, he was looking into my eyes.
Pressing into my body, my mouth dropping open and my nails sinking into his shoulders as he seated himself deep.
Owning me in a way I hadn’t allowed anyone to in a long time.
Wholly.
And in that moment, I gave him all my trust.
Sixteen
Kassius
Around the time the sun was just beginning to rise Elle fell asleep in my arms, fully sated after we made love for hours.
Hours.
Sex has always been a means to an end for me. Get in, get off, get out. With Elle, I couldn’t get enough of her. I'm afraid I never will.
I took my time exploring every soft curve, every peak and every valley on her body, and I memorized the sound of her voice, the smell of her musk, and the tremble of her body as she came underneath me countless times.
Every moan and every gasp and every tremble was a road map that I buried in the back of my head. Her pleasure was all that mattered.
Finally coming down from the high of having Elle back and our first night officially together, I closed my eyes to the soft purr of her breathing and finally succumbed to everything that’d happened in the last forty-eight hours. I thought I had lost Elle, I gained a major ad campaign, I met some of Hollywood’s elite, and I got Elle back. It was one hell of a couple of days—days I will never forget.
We still have a lot to talk about and to work through, but here . . . in this bed with the woman I’ve fallen for wrapped around me, I’m content to not speak at all. Honest to God, this feeling is the only thing that really matters. Everything else can wait.
Before I even open my eyes, I can feel her looking at me. Her long legs are intertwined between mine, and her chest pressed against mine. “What time is it?” I mumble against my dry throat as I fight to crack open an eye. The seemingly bright afternoon sun assaults me through the open curtains.
“Don’t know. Don’t care,” she says, pressing a soft kiss to the small of my throat. “I called in sick to work.” I instantly grow hard as her fingers trail soft circles down my side moving to my hip. We fell asleep naked, the sheet and comforter pooled at the end of the bed, our naked bodies wrapped tightly around each other. She giggles knowing what her touch does to me as she reaches down and wraps her palm around my hard shaft. Elle strokes me slowly a couple of times as I capture her soft lips in mine and nibble on her bottom lip.
“Don’t you want breakfast first? Or lunch, or . . . Elle!” I hiss as she rolls me onto my back and suddenly straddles me with her long legs. She presses her wet core against my dick and it takes every ounce of self-control not to raise my hips and press myself into her bare. The feel of her wet opening against me is utter torture as she glides back and forth, covering me in her wetness. She narrows her eyes and rubs the crown of my dick through her slick lips, stopping just shy of allowing me inside her. My heart stammers in my chest as she reaches for the pack of condoms that sit on my nightstand and rips a foil packet open between her teeth before rolling it on my throbbing erection.
Then her mouth finds the soft skin of my neck, where she nips gently before sitting back and slowly lowering herself onto me. My fingers grip the sides of her hips, and she takes every inch of length as if she were meant for me. Only me. She lets out a loud gasp as I fill her to the hilt, her clit pressed against my pubic bone. There is a moment where neither of us moves, as we drown in the feeling, but then she offers me a devious smile. Elle uses her fingers on my chest to balance herself as she begins to ride me. Starting out slowly, she increases her pace until she’s found her rhythm.
Beautiful Elle, her head full of long hair falls back over her shoulders as she rides my dick, and with every thrust, she grinds herself against me. I raise my hips to meet her descent as we find a perfect cadence with our lovemaking.
“That’s it, baby,” I moan as her perfectly round tits bounce each time she slides up and down on me. With every plunge, she rolls her hips and presses her clit against my pubic bone, bringing herself closer to orgasm.
I hold her waist guiding her up and down as her head falls back one last time and her body tightens around me as she lets out a guttural moan. I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as Elle when she falls apart on top of me. It takes me seconds to meet her climax, emptying myself into her.
Catching my breath, I run a knuckle over her soft cheek. “I’ll never get enough of you, Elle.”
“Mmmm,” she responds as her body shudders one last time as she’s still coming down. She bites her lip and closes her hooded eyes as she falls forward onto my chest and into my waiting arms. This is it. This is love. This is exactly what love feels like and goddamn if it isn’t the best feeling in the world.
“I mean it, Elle. You’re it for me.”
* * *
I don’t wake up again until around three in the afternoon. Carefully, I manage to slide out from under Elle, who is still soundly asleep, and sneak in a quick shower. She’s still out when I emerge, her long hair is spilled across my pillow and her hands are tucked under her cheek. I’ve never seen a more beautiful woman sleep.
I chill a bottle of wine I’ve had for months, and order Chinese takeout for us before settling on the large sectional couch and propping my ankle on the coffee table. I open my phone to thousands of Twitter notifications, Facebook tags, Instagram posts, and endless text messages about the Calvin Klein campaign. I guess the cat is out of the bag. I should be fully focused on the breaking news, but it’s the woman who appears in the doorway with a long white sheet wrapped around her perfect body that has my full attention.
“Hey,” she says, her voice raspy in that throaty, sexy kind of way.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” I answer her and pat the empty seat cushion next to me, inviting her over. She holds the sheet tightly against her chest as her bare feet pad across the carpeted floor. She sinks onto the couch next to me and rests her head on my shoulder as if she’s done this a million times.
“Whatcha doin’?” She asks, glancing at my phone, which lights up with more incoming notifications.
“Just checking my phone.” I set it on the large square ottoman nestled into the crook of the sectional sofa. I want to tell her the news before she sees or hears it anywhere else, but right now, I just want to focus on her. “You know, it’s almost four in the afternoon.”
“We had a late night and an early morning.” She grins up at me, blinking her tired, brown eyes. Those eyes hold love and fear and a look of trepidation as we dive into this relationship full speed ahead.
“That we did.” I wrap an arm around her shoulders and hold her closer to me. “I ordered us some dinner, Chinese takeout, and I have a bottle of wine chilling. I hope that’s okay.”
“Sounds perfect.” She hums before stretching her legs along the couch cushions next to her. I like the comfortable ease she’s fallen into at my apartment, like she’s been here before and this isn’t something new. My apartment is a far cry from Elle’s West Hollywood penthouse, but you’d neve
r know by how comfortable she’s made herself.
“Promise me something, will you, Elle?”
“Promise you what?” she asks. Her voice is tight with something that sounds like concern. I brush my knuckles over the soft curve of her cheekbone and press a quick kiss to her temple, trying to ease whatever she fears I’m about to say.
“That we’ll repeat last night again tonight . . . the bedroom part.” I chuckle, and she sinks closer against me. “Maybe tomorrow night, too.”
She releases a sigh and tips her head back with a soft laugh. “I think that can be arranged.” She leans up and brushes her lips against mine just as the doorbell rings with our dinner.
Seventeen
Elle
The showerhead in my apartment squealed as I shut it off, and I blindly reached out to grab the fluffy towel from the hook. Within the confines of the white marble, I quickly dried off, knowing I had to get out of there before Kas made it back from getting a few more things from his apartment.
Yeah.
He was back.
Back in a big way.
So maybe our relationship started off in an unorthodox way. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t real.
And I was sure it was.
Sure when he looked at me like I was his princess. That he really wanted me for me. And when he reached for me in the middle of the night, stealing my breath as he’d slide into me, that he was really loving me.
It made it all the more pathetic that I was sneaking out to have dinner at my parents without telling him where I was going.
Not cool.
I knew it.
Of course, I did.
The truth was, I needed to work a few things out in my heart and mind.
I wasn’t quite ready to tell him who my father was. Not yet.
One day, and soon, I would be.
But I felt as if I owed it to my parents to set it straight about the real reason I hadn’t shown up to my daddy’s premiere three weeks ago. I’d given then nothing more than a lame excuse that I knew they hadn’t bought. Now, I needed to tell them the reservations I’d felt when I’d first met Kas and truth of his promises.
One Wild Ride: A Hollywood Chronicles Novel Page 8
