by MK Meredith
Jimmy glanced at her, then followed her gaze. “Oh, please, really?” His tone was full of derision, which she found endearing.
The whole experience was surreal. Emma Stone talked to reporters a little farther along the way, and Ryan Reynolds and his wife, Blake Lively, had their heads together in a conspiratorial whisper as they posed for photographs. The flashing lights made it seem like they were inside a disco.
“This is crazy. And if we get caught, I am going to die.”
Jimmy brought her in close to his side. “Don't be dramatic, professor. Why don’t you just try to enjoy yourself? Come on.” Holding hands, they continued to walk along behind the group they had adopted and straight into the governor's ball. As they stepped through the doors, Bel couldn't stop her gasp of delight.
The whole scene was decadent but refined with low lighting softly reflecting off every surface like a diamond. True Hollywood glamour at its finest.
She moved in closer to him and sighed as her muscles slowly loosened.
“You did it,” he said under his breath.
“You dragged me. I don't know exactly how brave that is.”
“You could have backed out or exposed us any number of times. But you didn't. You're a great wing-woman, and as I mentioned before, you look gorgeous this evening.” He followed up the compliment with a slow stroke of his hand along her waist to her hip.
“To be fair, you didn’t actually say that at all.”
He snapped his teeth together in a wicked grin, and the praise warmed her in a way that left her feeling restless. Or maybe it was how fine his shoulders looked in his tuxedo jacket or how chiseled his jaw appeared under the very short groomed scruff, or maybe it was those lips. Without thinking, she kissed him.
If the small jerk in his body was any indication, she took him by surprise, but it wasn't more than a second before he crushed her against him and took the kiss even deeper.
With self-control she admired, he weaned them from the embrace, then took her hands. “Let’s go.” He led them through the crowd of stunningly beautiful people. “I can't believe your brother never brought you to any red-carpet events.”
She ducked her chin in mock shame. “He’s offered, but I've never wanted to come.” Truth was she’d had no desire. The spotlight was her brother’s passion, not hers.
“Why not? Every other person on the planet wants to be here.”
“I used to be afraid we'd run into our mother, Cecilia Lombardi.”
He winced. “I remember the story about her run-in with Gage last year. That must have been pretty rough on you guys.” He grabbed champagne from a passing waiter and placed it in her hands. With a light ting, he touched his to hers. “To new adventures.”
She held his gaze, and what she saw there made her burn. She yearned to feel his arms around her, his rock-solid weight pressing into her body. There was something very special about this man, and now that she'd gotten a taste, she feared she’d never have enough.
“You need to quit looking at me like that, Bel, or we're not gonna make it through the night.”
She slid her tongue along her lower lip followed by a teasing bite of it.
He grabbed her by the arm, steering her toward the exit.
“Now, we might not make it back to the car,” he growled.
J immy rushed her back through the throng of party-goers to the grand double doors and out to the hallway, passing movie stars as casually as if they were neighbors. Bel’s adrenaline spiked for the millionth time that night, leaving her breathless and awed. She never could have imagined having a night like this.
Clint Eastwood spared them a tired glance as they passed before focusing his attention back to his cocktail glass, and she made a note to ask her brother if the two had ever met.
A heady rush of excitement spread through her with Jimmy's urgency. It was an intoxicating feeling to know she affected him in such a way. And thank God, because he certainly had a heady effect on her.
As they quickly made their way down the hall, he turned right and left as if on a swivel, peering into a few rooms until he found the stairwell.
“Where’re we going?”
They moved down one flight of stairs to the next landing. “No doors, no windows.” Jimmy spun her around and pressed her up against the wall. “What the hell have you done to me, Bel? It's not comfortable, whatever it is.”
And before she could answer, his mouth was on hers.
Hot, demanding. The more she took, the more she wanted.
The cold cinder blocks pressed against the exposed skin of her back, a contrast to the rising heat of this devilishly sexy man pressed against her chest. Her nipples hardened under the soft lining of her spaghetti-strapped dress.
He cradled the back of her head with this hand, protecting her from the wall while his other hand made a slow, sensual exploration that left her breathless.
Snapping open her clutch, she grabbed a condom, thankful of her habit of always having one on hand.
She held it between her teeth as she shoved his jacket from his shoulders and yanked his bow tie loose, needing to get her hands against the bare skin of his chest, to feel the hard, sinewy muscle, to revel in his racing heartbeat against her palms.
His hand drifted lower, bunching the material at her thighs and pulling it upward. With a wicked glint in his eye, he took the condom from between her teeth.
“Touch me, Jimmy. I need you to touch me.” Her actions were crazy and her demands insane, but even the threat of discovery didn't cool her hot, burning need.
“One of these times, we really should try a bed,” he rasped as his lips dragged along her collarbone.
“Who needs a bed when you have a perfectly fine pair of legs to hold us up?”
“I’ve created a—”
She unbuckled his belt, rendering him mute, opened his pants, then slid her hot, eager hand in to gently cup his balls. The length of him was hard and long, enticing her fingers to wrap around it and give a tentative stroke.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” he cursed, slamming his mouth back on hers.
He sheathed himself with the condom, then hiked her dress up higher and grabbed her ass, his fingers kneading into her muscles, releasing butterfly pulses of bliss through her center.
“Wrap your legs around my waist.”
She already had one leg in place before he finished the demand.
With both arms around his neck, she leveraged up to settle her aching center against the head of his cock. Everything was so raw and wild with this man. Not to mention new and exciting. Her brain told her that it wasn’t a sustainable place to be, but her body and her heart defied the logic and opened to him.
“I need you now,” she whimpered.
“I'm here, baby.”
Sliding her lips against his for a deep and searing kiss, she slid down the length of his cock, welcoming the exquisite sensation of being filled, the power of being in control, and with that, she set the pace. Tilting her pelvis, she moved on him, making his body love hers.
Her core tightened to an unparalleled intensity until a wave of glorious contractions sent her over the edge. She lifted higher, then dropped down on him faster and faster, riding out her orgasm as he stiffened and buried a moan in her neck.
As their breaths slowed, he traced a lazy trail along her jaw with his tongue and pressed a soft, sweet kiss against her mouth. She let her legs slide to the floor, leaning limp and satiated against the wall.
“With you it's…” She couldn't finish the sentence.
The door above them opened, erasing their faux cocoon with a cacophony of giggles and party clatter.
Jimmy snatched his jacket from the floor and yanked up his pants as Bel smoothed her dress. But instead of panic, she felt higher than a kite…and her drug was this man standing right in front of her. “What were we thinking?” Her peal of laughter echoed on the stairs.
He led her down the stairs with a low chuckle. “That's just it, it's hard to th
ink around you.”
And that was the most dangerous part of it all. She shouldn't take risks for this exact reason, and this man challenged her decision making in a way that was very uncomfortable.
Or is it the most comfortable you’ve been in a long time?
She ignored the thought, grabbing the railing and trying not to lose her footing as they sped down the stairs.
“There’s gotta be an outdoor exit coming soon,” he muttered.
They flew down one last flight of stairs, and he shoved open an exit door. They stumbled out onto the street, their laughs echoing off the buildings that formed the alleyway.
“Hey! You can't come out that way.” A security officer jogged toward them. “Where’re your badges?”
Jimmy tightened his grip on her hand and pulled her in the opposite direction.
“We left them inside,” he shouted over his shoulder.
Bel peeked back to see the security guard pull up with his hands in the air. “You can't get back in!”
They continued down the alley and settled into a more leisurely pace along the lit sidewalk. She clung to his arm, trying to catch her breath, her body still buzzing with adrenaline. “Oh my God. Did you see his face?”
Jimmy looked at her with a chuckle. “You're enjoying yourself.”
“I just experienced the greatest orgasm of my life. Of course, I'm enjoying myself!”
They continued toward the hotel in a comfortable silence.
“There's something going on here.” He glanced down at her. “Between you and me.”
His tone stirred up her nerves, and they battled it out in her stomach, making it hard to concentrate. She weakly laughed off his words regardless of their truth. “Oh, you mean like crashing the Oscars and public indecency with sex in the stairwell? I'd say there was quite a lot going on.”
He grabbed her hands, slowing her to a stop and turning her toward him. With one hand wrapped around her waist, he lifted their joined hands to a slow dance position and started to sway.
“What’re you doing?” She tried to step away, but he just turned them in a slow spin. She had to concentrate and follow his lead or lose her footing. Ending the night on her ass in front of a busy hotel was not on her agenda, so she gripped his shoulder and hand tightly.
“We’re dancing.”
“I can see that were dancing…but there's no music.”
He hummed a waltz, his deep voice providing the melody in a way that slid over her skin like velvet. Stepping her in the outline of a neat box, they glided across the walkway.
Confusion and a wave of self-consciousness washed over her.
“What are you thinking about?” He continued to hum as he awaited her answer.
“Staying on my feet,” she confessed. Trying to understand this man was an exercise in futility. The fact that he even knew a waltz coupled with the fact that he had such a beautiful voice totally knocked her off kilter.
“Perfect.” He spun her slowly until she faced him once again. “I need you to get out of your head so that you can quit being afraid for one second and admit that there's something between us.”
“I am not afr—”
Suddenly she was spinning again. Once they were back nose-to-nose, he raised a dark brow.
“I'm not interested in being hurt,” she stated.
“So, you'd rather be lonely?”
His question was soft and made her think of how ridiculous she’d thought her brother was when he’d almost let Sam go. She hated being lonely. Hated the feeling of not being able to share life’s experiences with someone special. But at what cost?
“I would rather be lonely than in pain. I've been lonely a long time. It’s…familiar, something I know I can survive.”
“Fear is never a reason to stop living.” He pinned her with an intense look. “Have you enjoyed yourself the last couple of weeks? Experiencing the surfboard, the night at the library…making love at the watering hole?”
His voice whisked over her with the light caress of a feather. She couldn't think of a time that had been more fun or exhilarating than when she was with him.
“I just want the truth,” he said gruffly.
“Yes.” She rested her head on his shoulder. “Yes. I've had an amazing time.”
He continued to move them with a melody of his own, breaking it only to speak then going right back to where they were, never missing a beat.
“Fear has kept you from ever doing those things before, and you wouldn’t have if you weren’t obligated to go with me. I'm just saying that if you open yourself up, if you risk just a little bit, the reward might be something you never thought possible. You deserve it.”
He pulled her in tighter. “You deserve everything you want. You deserve to be loved and challenged, cherished and pushed. Let’s face it, I don't deserve to be the person to do those things, but I’m drawn to you and want to see what we might have here.”
“I'm afraid to ever put myself out there, Jimmy. Watching someone I care about walk away is too hard.”
The look on his face bordered on incredulous. “Are you saying you have feelings for me?” He stilled, and the look in his eyes intensified.
It was time to risk big. “I think I am…” She hitched in a breath. “And it scares the bejesus out of me.”
He pressed his lips against hers. “You don’t have to be scared. I feel the same way.”
CHAPTER 11
“I'm sorry, but you’re only the uncle. Single. With a job that requires travel. And the mother is alive. It isn't going to be easy.”
With smooth, controlled movements, Jimmy placed his knuckles on the hard, slick surface of the mahogany desk, leaning forward. “I understand Cleo’s mother is alive, but she is putting my niece in danger on a weekly basis. My concern is to keep Cleo happy, healthy, and out of harm's way.”
His attorney looked pointedly at his hulking form, and Jimmy straightened back from the desk. “Look, I get calls from my niece weekly to come pick her up, to get her away from a shouting match between her mother and her mother's latest boyfriend. For her sake, I need to get her out of a house filled with negligent adults who are too strung out to notice if she goes missing.”
“I understand, truly I do. But it's just not that easy. There has to be proof, and even then, it has to be irrefutable.”
“I've shown you pictures.” He tried to temper the growl in his voice.
“Yes, well, in this case, a picture does not always say a thousand words. There are a million different ways to excuse photos.”
Jimmy swung away and then back.
“Excuse them? Like what?” he shouted. “A goddamn cotton candy party?” He put his hands out. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm just…”
The attorney gave a soft, empathetic sigh as she straightened the color of her button-up. “I'm glad you care enough to try. But outside of the mother signing over rights or concrete proof of blatant child neglect, it's going to take a miracle for you to gain custody. It might have helped your case a little bit if you were in a stable relationship and you were able to show a healthy home with two parents, but even then…”
Bel's face immediately took shape in his mind. She’d make a wonderful mother because she’d make sure her child felt wanted every day. Not just a moneymaker like some in foster care, not a burden like her own mother had made her feel.
He shook away the thought, knowing it was ludicrous. He’d barely gotten her to admit that there was something between them at all. He was nowhere near getting her to accept the idea that they were marriage material.
A dose of guilt immediately settled on his shoulders that he even thought of using her in that way.
But desperation was beginning to have its way with him, and the weight and responsibility of it all made his stomach churn.
Back outside, under the warm sun and cool breeze, he took in the busy streets of LA. He liked the city, the buzz and energy, the possibility of making dreams come true. But there was nothing quit
e as potent as Malibu with the Pacific Ocean on one side and the wall of hills on the other providing a private little cocoon of paradise.
Weaving in and out of traffic on his bike, he chuckled at the vision he must make in his suit pants and dress shirt, sleeves rolled up to reveal tattoos running along each forearm, along with his large black helmet and black boots.
He didn't mind wearing a suit—he enjoyed the feel of being locked and loaded for a war of the minds—but nothing was keeping him off his bike. Or keeping him from finding a way to get custody of his niece.
He made a pit stop at his place to change so he could head out to the water. A few texts later, and he was taking advantage of an invite to go surf with Gage on his private beach. Though he didn't envy the intrusions that came with a celebrity lifestyle, the surfing was top notch.
* * *
J immy let the roll of the water beneath his board ease the tension from his shoulders.
“We should have done this a long time ago,” Gage yelled above the splash of the waves.
Jimmy pointed at Roque, who’d joined them with his own board. “Blame this guy. He’s a slave driver.”
Their buddy rolled his eyes and scrubbed at the black whiskers of his groomed chin. “Yeah, so much a slave driver that I'm taking second best so you have time to hang out with Gage’s little sister.”
Gage shot a look at Jimmy, eyeing him up-and-down. “We’ve worked together a long time, so I know who you are. But no matter how much I like you, if you hurt my sister, I will kick your ass.”
Jimmy could respect that. No man who called himself an older brother could expect anything less. How many times had he tried to protect Jack? It was a thousand times if it was a hundred.
Too many to count but not nearly enough. He swallowed hard against his failure.
And now, he was trying to take care of Cleo.
He didn't know how many more times he could handle being a failure.
“Any news yet?” Roque asked.
“Nothing good.” Jimmy shoved his fingers back through his wet hair.
