“Let me get you there.” I drop one hand between us, pressing my thumb to her clit. My touch is synced so perfectly with her grinding that she’s moaning my name as she comes all over my dick. Her nails dig into my shoulders as she clings to me, her whole body trembling from the force of her orgasm.
She slumps against me as she comes down. “I think you broke me,” she mumbles as I pump into her from below, turning our once languid pace fervent.
“We’re just getting started,” I growl out as my own climax rips through me. My lungs seize and my body shudders from the force of my orgasm as I pump the last of my release into her.
“You promise?” she asks as I grip the back of her thighs and stand, holding her body flush to mine as I carry her back to my bathroom so we can clean up.
“I fucking promise,” I tell her meaning it with every fiber of my being, because while this thing between us is new, it feels like the start of something wonderful.
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OPENING UP
* * *
T.K. RAPP
ONE
ONE MORE STEP would mean certain death. I had just rounded the corner, my bag slung over my shoulder, when I was greeted by a beautiful yet terrifying beast. Immediately I dropped my bag, only to have the dog’s growl grow more sinister. I remained frozen near the elevators, watching as the massive German Shepherd looked at me like I was going to be the perfect snack.
As I tried to hold my breath, I wondered if, like a shark, it could smell fear.
“Don’t move,” I muttered to myself over and over.
My body flinched a fraction and the dog moved closer, baring its teeth. No matter how hard I tried to calm my growing fear, the pounding of my heart reminded me that I was in trouble. The sweat began to bead at my hairline, and I knew that even if this animal didn’t kill me, I would be maimed for certain.
The dog barked—a terrifying sound—and I lunged slightly, recoiling just as a strong male voice called out.
“Peggy! Settle!”
Almost instantly, the creature softened, its ears relaxing before it sat obediently as the man approached.
“Peggy?” I muttered as I exhaled a shaky breath. “I was almost mauled by a dog called Peggy?”
“I am so sorry, miss. Are you okay?”
I shook my head in disbelief, still staring at Peggy, wondering if she was about to disobey her owner and finish the job. I took a timid step back, only to find myself losing my balance, everything in my view tilting as I found myself staring at the ceiling.
“Oh shit,” I heard the man mutter just as two strong hands reached down to touch me.
“Ouch,” I groaned.
As I was lifted to a seated position, I grabbed my head and waited for the throbbing to subside. The pounding was so harsh that I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping to alleviate the pain, but it ached more than a hangover. But at least a hangover was the indication of a fun night out. This was the end of an already annoying and terrifying exchange.
“I should report you,” I grumbled as I rubbed the ache at the base of my head. “Dogs are supposed to be on a leash.”
“I know. She just…”
“There are rules around here, ya know? If you can’t control your animal, perhaps you shouldn’t have one. And it definitely shouldn’t be running loose in the building.”
“She,” he said simply.
“Excuse me?”
“She. She shouldn’t be loose in the building,” the man corrected.
“What are you talking about?”
“Peggy isn’t an ‘it.’ She’s a pet—a part of my family.”
“Oh good lord,” I groaned, pulling myself to my feet. “I love dogs as much as the next person, but it’s still a dog.”
Peggy made a whiny noise as she lay down at her owner’s feet—an owner who I could only identify by his shoes because I was still looking down, trying to piece together how my morning had gone to shit so quickly. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before fixing my eyes on him and he was…breathtaking.
It was the only word to come to mind. Striking green eyes. Light brown hair. Strong jawline that only paled in comparison to his muscular physique. What the hell was an underwear model doing in my building?
“A dog?” he repeated.
Peggy sat upright and he gently stroked her head as he leveled his eyes at me. I had done nothing wrong, only leave my apartment for work, yet I was being judged.
“Look, I can’t deal with this…with you,” I stammered. “I’m already late and I really need to get to work, Mr.—?”
The man tentatively reached out a hand and I awkwardly accepted. His grip was strong, but warm and soft. I was never one to put stock in butterflies and tingles, but there was definitely something happening. Probably because for the better part of a year, I had been single. And I hadn’t minded single life, but damn if he wasn’t handsome enough to make me think I was crazy for settling for being alone.
“Wallace,” he said, still holding my hand. “But not Mr. It’s just Evan.”
I cleared my throat, and to regain my composure, I pushed away the thoughts that had started creeping in and focused instead on my indignation at his dog running wild in the building. Looks and charm be damned, I was pissed that somehow I was the one being judged in all of this.
“Well, Mr. Wallace. Might I suggest that if you want people around here to leave you alone, keep, Peggy, on a leash.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, Ms.…?”
“Patterson.”
“Patterson? Rebecca? Apartment 302?”
A frisson of fear shot through my spine and I released myself from his grip, not having realized he was still holding my hand. I kept my eyes fixed on him as I reached down to grab my bag and took a step back. I had seen enough true crime shows to know how things like this ended.
The man began to lift his hand to stop me, but dropped it as he began to speak.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m the new landlord,” he said quickly as explanation.
“Is that supposed to excuse you being a creepy stalker?” I shot back.
“I’m not a stalker.”
“Wallace,” I repeated the name.
Slowly started to piece it together. I’d heard the name before, most recently from the letter all the tenants had received a month prior. Evan Wallace was the middle son of Preston Wallace…owner of Wallace Properties. Owner of my apartment complex.
“Of course,” I muttered to myself as I started to turn around. “Just my luck.”
“Ms. Patterson,” he said as I walked away. “Are you okay?”
“I’m going to be late for work,” I repeated absently as I rushed toward the stairwell, not wanting to risk being stuck in an elevator with him.
“But…”
I didn’t wait to hear what else he had to say because my new landlord was a beautiful animal-lover who had my brain completely jumbled. And he didn’t seem to care that rules should apply to everyone.
TWO
MY DAY AT the studio had been busy, thanks to a special promotion my assistant had set up a month earlier. Over the last several years, I had witnessed many photography studios come and go, but I had managed to make a name for myself and had no shortage of clients. My company had taken off early on, and my days were spent either booking new clients or photographing a scheduled session.
I absolutely loved what I did, because it was my creative outlet and I was damn good at it. A nice perk was that at the end of the day, I was able to do some of my work from home, editing images from earlier sessions. Sure, it made for exceptionally long days, but time was something I’d had a lot of since my breakup a year earlier. I was definitely married to my career, and I had an assistan
t that I had trained to be almost as good as me. That was enough.
Unfortunately, my workload had doubled since Hilarie, my assistant, had gone on maternity leave earlier than expected. She was in charge of confirming appointments and making sure everything was ready for sessions the next day. But more importantly, she was my partner at weddings and corporate parties—events I could not do alone—and I had a big one coming up that weekend.
Favors were called in, photographers were bribed, lots of begging was done—all to no avail. With every phone call, it became evident to me that I would be on my own for the upcoming wedding. I tried to tell myself that it was a doable task, but I found it hard to believe.
I had so much to do before the weekend while still doing my normal day-to-day sessions, and it was proving difficult with the added load of Hilarie’s work. Regardless of the stress my job was bringing me, I needed some sort of normalcy, which included hitting the gym.
As I walked into my apartment, I set everything on the counter so I could get ready to work out. Most tenants used the gym in the morning, so I usually had it all to myself, which meant my physical appearance was a non-issue.
I was in the middle of taking off my gold eyeshadow when I heard my phone buzz across the room. For a second I considered checking it, but went about taking off the rest of my makeup. As much as I enjoyed fixing myself up, I preferred the bare-faced reflection that stared back at me. My light brown eyes were in stark contrast to my olive complexion and my full lips, which I had inherited from my mother. There were times when I looked at myself and wondered which of my features I’d gotten from my dad.
“C’mon, you don’t have time for this,” I scolded, staring at myself.
I pulled my wavy brown hair into a messy ponytail and changed out of my fitted jeans and button-down shirt and into running shorts and a tank. I grabbed a bottle of water and was walking to the door when my cellphone buzzed in my hand. I looked down to see Shelby’s name flashing on the screen as well as the text that she had sent while I was changing. I declined the call and walked out of my apartment, knowing our conversation would be lengthy.
The studio consumed so much of my time that having any sort of life outside of it was nearly impossible. Meanwhile, life went on for my friends, who were getting married and having babies. Even my best friend Shelby, who swore she would never settle down, was going to do exactly that. I had not delivered the news about Hilarie because Shelby was going to lose it when I finally told her that the photographer was going to be me—which meant that my maid of honor duties would be handed to someone else.
I opened the door to the gym and exhaled, ready to release all the stresses of my day, when I saw him—Evan Wallace—working out. He didn’t see me at first, because he was on the treadmill reading something. I was about to leave when he looked up, and his eyes widened as he smiled at me.
He really had a beautiful smile.
“Ms. Patterson, how’s your head?” he asked as he stopped the machine. “I went by your apartment this afternoon to check on you, but no one was there.”
He looked for me?
“It’s…fine. Thanks.”
He stepped off the machine and walked toward me, stopping a short distance away. His smile was unsure, and I realized it was probably my cold demeanor. But considering our earlier encounter, I still wasn’t sure my response was unwarranted.
“Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot. I really am sorry that Peggy scared you. She’s really a sweet girl, but when she’s scared, she reacts.”
“She was scared?”
“I think she was looking for me. I was taking out the trash and didn’t realize the door was open behind me.”
“Ah, that explains the no-leash thing.”
“It will never happen again,” he said. “She’s normally very calm. But when she gets anxious, she needs some reassurance.”
“Maybe she picked up on my stress,” I said half-jokingly.
“That’s quite possible.”
I scoffed playfully and pointed toward the treadmills. Evan moved aside and I set my water bottle on the holder before stepping onto the machine. He did the same and resumed his workout.
The room was silent except for the sound of the treadmill belts as our feet stomped in a soft cadence. I found myself wishing I had brought my headphones to tune out the deafening silence. I usually found quiet to be calming, giving me the ability to decompress, but this silence made me uneasy.
“When did you move into the building?” I asked, my focus on the door in front of me as I jogged.
“Last weekend. My dad asked me to take over the property. What about you?” he asked, breathing heavily as he ran.
“Me? When I did move in? You already knew my name and apartment number. Surely you know my history,” I deadpanned.
“Ms.—”
“Becca. Please don’t call me miss or Ms. Or ma’am or whatever title that comes to mind that makes me feel ancient,” I pleaded with a timid smile.
“All right, Becca. Truthfully, I know every tenant’s name and apartment number. But that’s about it. And now I know you hate dogs.”
I stopped my running and turned to face him. “Just so you know, I don’t hate dogs. I’m just moody when one sees me as a snack.”
Evan laughed and I stepped back onto the belt, increasing the speed as I resumed my jog, relaxing as some of the day’s frustration dissipated.
“Peggy is harmless,” he said.
“Okay, can we talk about this name? Peggy?”
“What about it?”
“Why Peggy?”
“What would be better? Cujo? Killer? Bruno?”
“Based on this morning, those are more appropriate than Peggy.”
“Peggy is disarming. You don’t feel scared when you hear the name Peggy,” he teased.
“Oh trust me, I will never hear that name the same again. If I see a little old lady and her name happens to be Peggy, I’m going to be prepared for her to beat and mug me, leaving me on the sidewalk for dead,” I joked.
Evan laughed and increased his speed on the treadmill. Never one to be outdone, I increased my speed and enjoyed the few minutes of silence that settled between us until he spoke again.
“So what do you do, Bec?”
“I’m a photographer,” I answered proudly as I started to pant from the increased speed.
“No kidding? I love photography. If I hadn’t been strong-armed into the family business, I would have done something fun like that.”
“Fun,” I repeated. “Yeah. Usually it is.”
“Usually?”
“Seems all fun and glamourous until your assistant takes a leave of absence just before your best friend’s wedding,” I said before turning to him. “And I think she is probably scarier than Peggy.”
“Your assistant or best friend?”
“Best friend. I haven’t told her yet that I’ll have to forgo one duty in order to fulfill the other.”
“Why’s that?”
“She’s pregnant.”
“Your friend?”
“No,” I laughed. “Okay, Shelby is my best friend and she’s getting married this weekend. I’m maid of honor…or was…and Hilarie, my assistant, was going to photograph until she was put on bedrest for the remainder of her pregnancy. I can’t be maid of honor and photograph the wedding…and why did I just tell you all of that?”
“Because I asked?” he questioned with a grin. “Don’t photographers help each other out?”
“Yeah, we do. But spring is a really busy time for weddings and we usually book a year in advance, so everyone’s weekends are tied up through fall.”
“So what are you going to tell your friend?”
“The truth. I just hope she doesn’t freak out because I really want her day to be special. And I’ll still be there, just not the way she was hoping.”
THREE
SLEEP DIDN’T COME easy and morning came too early.
Evan and I had talked un
til we were finished working out, and I had gone back to my apartment to make sure I had everything figured out for the next day. Shelby had called again but I’d sent her a text that I was up to my neck in edits and I’d call her the next day.
I’d had to buy myself some time to figure out how I was going to break the news about the situation my assistant’s absence created. Shelby’s wedding was supposed to be Hilarie’s first mostly solo gig, and I would be there to help when she needed it. I hated the idea that I was going to let Shelby down, but the writing was on the wall.
My camera bag was packed, and I was ready to get to the studio to start my day, but I had to call Shelby first. I inhaled a deep breath, picked up my phone and was waiting for her to answer when I heard a knock at the door. I glanced through the peephole and saw Evan standing there, so I opened it.
“Can I help you?” I asked. He smiled and was starting to speak when Shelby answered the phone.
“Hey, Bec! It’s about time you called me back,” she said.
“Hey, Shel,” I answered, holding my hand up to Evan. “Sorry. It’s been crazy around here.”
Evan waved his hand to get my attention and asked me to hang up. I was confused about what he was even doing at my apartment, but Shelby was going on and on about something and I was too distracted to pay attention.
“I’m sorry,” I interrupted her. “Give me a sec.”
“But…”
I muted the phone and looked at Evan. “Did you need something?”
“No. But you do.”
“And that is?”
“Me,” he answered simply. “I mean, I can help you. With the wedding.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I thought about this all night. You need help, I happen to have a little free time on my hands for the next two weeks, until I officially take over.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Because my dog scared you? Because I don’t know anyone in the area besides you? Because I enjoyed your company last night…you pick.”
One More Step Page 14
