by C. J. Thomas
“We don’t have to worry about that anymore.” Her chest began to heave and I could see her pulse kick up a notch as it throbbed in her neck. “Nothing is going to break us apart. Nothing.”
“But I thought—” Her voice cracked.
“Me too.” I cupped her face and pressed my lips into hers. “Apparently, Ted just wanted to run away from the debt he owed Mr. Lopez.”
“I can understand that.” Alex laughed.
“And he invited Val to go with him.” I kissed her again. “I’m not sure why. And don’t give a fuck, either.”
Alex laughed and buried her face into my chest.
“And there’s no one I’d rather have working by my side.” My thumbs stroked over her heated cheeks. “Please tell me you’ll do it.”
She flicked her wild bangs out of her eyes. “I’ll do it.”
My lips slammed down into hers and I grabbed her ass. “Now, let’s eat.”
We both laughed until our voices echoed off the surrounding buildings.
With that, I knew Alex would be with me, night and day, no matter what. Our future together was just getting started. And I couldn’t wait to see where it would take us.
119
Alex
KENDRA WAS PRANCING around my apartment in only a thong.
She was busy talking, thrilled that the Madam offered her a date. But I was lost inside my own excitement.
My dinner with Nash last night was perfect. From the way he couldn’t keep his eyes off me, to the exquisite food we ate, all the way up until he took me home and made love to me like we’d be together forever.
“What do you think?” Kendra spun around and held up a couple dresses.
“I think you’d look brilliant in both of them.”
“But you don’t know which?”
I shook my head once. “It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
“The Madam delivered the outfit she wanted me to wear.”
“But she didn’t do that for me.” Kendra turned back toward the mirror and flip-flopped between the two dresses, trying to decide which one she liked best, her tight ass fitting her thong magically.
I loved how she could prance around practically naked without any shame. Kendra really was one of a kind. And to think that I almost gave up on her as a friend. Now, I couldn’t imagine my life without her in it. I couldn’t wait to hear her stories working as a high class escort for the Los Angeles elite.
“I still can’t get over that interview.” She twisted her long hair, pulled it back, then placed it in a bun on top of her head. “I would have liked to have gotten a heads up about getting spanked, though.”
“I’m sorry about that. But I didn’t know.” I laughed.
When I sat on the edge of the bed, I instantly thought of Nash. The way he did the same thing to me the other night in the club. I was still sore, but I liked the constant reminder of him—who I belonged to—and the pain was worth every bit of the raw ache I still felt. Not to mention the multiple orgasms that shook the ground, either.
“That’s not what they did to you?” She glanced over her shoulder and arched a brow.
I took a sip of wine and shook my head.
Kendra turned back to the mirror and cupped her breasts. “Not that I didn’t like it. Because I did. I’ll never be one to tell a handsome man with strong hands no.”
We both giggled.
“Who was that guy, anyway?” Kendra turned to look at me.
“I don’t know.” I shrugged.
“Hmm.” Kendra turned back to the mirror. “I’d like to inspect him.”
I smiled and took another sip of wine, getting lost again inside my own thoughts about Nash. It didn’t take long for Kendra to notice my aloofness.
“What’s up with you, anyway?” She worked her lashes. “Drifting in and out of consciousness over there?”
I broke down last night for her. “He wants me back at the studio, but he didn’t say whether or not he was giving me the Assistant Director chair.”
“So you’re going back to work. That’s good, right?”
“It is good. Especially if I get the chair. And I think that’s what he was saying, but I’m not one hundred percent certain.”
“Seems like a good thing.” Kendra sorted through a dozen different earrings, trying to decide what to wear. “We’re all getting what we wanted in the end.” She glanced at me in the mirror’s reflection. “None of this would have happened if you never took that money.”
I sighed. She was right. No matter how much I wished it wasn’t so. I never wanted to go through an ordeal like that again. But now that it all worked out, I guessed it was worth it. Can’t truly appreciate the pleasure without first feeling the pain. Nash’s voice echoed between my ears.
“What else is going on? There’s more. I can see it written all over your face. You’re keeping something secret.”
I stuck out my tongue and shook my head.
She jumped, clapped her hands, and pointed at me. “I know that look.”
I gave her a questioning look.
“You love him? Hell, I would. With a dick the size of his, shit I’d ride it until the well ran dry.”
I giggled and swallowed down another sip of wine. I wondered why Kendra wasn’t drinking. Compared to the moments leading up to her introduction to the Madam, she was calm as all get out. “I want to tell him.”
“But you’re afraid?”
I nodded. “What if he doesn’t love me back?”
Kendra padded over to me, her breasts bobbing, and embraced me in a reassuring hug. “Baby doll, if that man doesn’t love you, you can always get back into escorting. I’m sure the Madam would love to have you back.”
We both laughed. But her way of saying it was so much better.
She released me when a knock on the front door stole our attention. Kendra gave me a questioning look and I nodded. “A package from the Madam,” we both said at the same time.
And it was. The Madam already knew Kendra well enough to have it sent to my place.
120
Nash
I TIED a scarf around her eyes and told her not to peek.
Her body was warm against my touch. I guided her from behind, one hand clasped to her elbow, the other gently nudging her forward on the small of her back.
“You look amazing today. Have I told you that?”
“No. But thank you.”
And she did. She was wearing a sexy, white crochet tank, and jean shorts that were cut at the crotch. I knew she had style and finesse, but this outfit was unlike anything I’d ever seen her wear. I wondered where she got it. “Did you pick it out all yourself?”
She giggled. “I did. Don’t get me wrong, I like the clothing you buy for me, but sometimes a girl just likes to shop all on her own.”
I leaned my head back as we inched forward and I devoured her backside with my eyes. My cock swelled painfully hard with each glance I stole. Looking at Alex would never get old, and I couldn’t wait to have her moving up and down my length as she gyrated her hips.
“How much further, Nash?” She giggled, continuing to slide her feet over the cool concrete floor.
“We’ve barely made it ten feet.” I chuckled.
“I don’t like not being able to see.”
“It hasn’t stopped you before.”
“We weren’t walking before.”
“Don’t you trust me?”
“Of course I trust you.”
“Then there is nothing to worry about,” I assured her. “At this pace, it will take all day.”
With each step after that, her confidence grew. The studio was empty and void of the normal chaos. It was perfect for what I had planned for the two of us, and I hoped Alex appreciated it just as much as I knew I did.
“Are we there yet?”
I laughed and continued steering her in the direction I wanted her to go. A few strides later I said, “Okay, you can stop.”
She
reached up to touch the stealth black scarf over her eyes.
I peppered a kiss on the back of her neck. “Are you ready to see the big surprise?”
“More than ever.”
“First, I want you to kiss me.”
She giggled as I helped spin her around.
I kissed her light at first, brushing my lips against hers, letting my hands roam over her body, loving how warm she felt in this dimmed room. There was no one else I’d rather propose this to, than her.
And she’d better say yes.
When her lips parted, I dove in like a hungry dog waiting to be fed. Her tongue flicked, swirled, and teased against mine and I felt her nipples tighten beneath her tank.
My cock stirred and twitched.
“Hmm…I liked that,” she murmured when I pulled away.
“Me, too.” I nipped at her lips before spinning her back toward my chest once again. “Okay, ready?”
“I can’t wait.”
My fingers worked to untie the knot of the scarf and I let it fall naturally off her face.
She didn’t say anything for the longest time and I couldn’t help but wonder what it was she was actually thinking. Alex moved to the chair and ran her fingers over the back of it, reading the lettering—Assistant Director.
“Do you want it?” I asked.
She trailed the tips of her fingers over the wooden arms and peered up at me—her face glowing. “It’s been a long time coming.”
The corner of my lip curled. “So is that a yes?”
She sauntered over to me with sex in her eye. “And what would the director want for it in return?”
I threaded my fingers through her hair, cupped the back of her skull, and pulled her in for a sensual kiss. “Say, yes, and I’ll show you.”
Alex touched my lips and said, “Perhaps in the alleyway?”
I shook my head and watched her fall to her knees, unzipping my fly.
“Or would you prefer on my knees?” She took my hardness into her hand and guided it to her mouth.
My head tipped back the moment her tongue coiled around my throbbing cock. “Yes, on your knees.”
Thanks for reading On My Knees. Click here to begin reading Kendra’s story and start reading today!
BONUS BOOK - HEAT
Heat
Hollywood Dreams: Julia Mabel
A Romantic Suspense Novel
CJ Thomas
& Casey Jones
121
Julia
THE APARTMENT SAT at the top of a glass tower. The princess always lived at the top of a tower, didn’t she? Only, the girl in question was no princess.
She was also dead.
After covering some of the industry’s nastiest stories for years, I always thought I was impervious to caring about the people behind the scandals. I grew a thick skin early on in my career since there was no room for feelings when work was involved.
This case had me chewing my lip, tapping my fingers on the steering wheel as I drove toward the infamous apartment building where so many of Hollywood’s rich and famous lived. One of them had died there, and she was the last person I imagined would go out the way she had.
“One of my contacts is in the lobby,” my boss had barked in my ear, “and he says there’s tons of police coming and going. Elevator keeps goin’ to the top floor. You know who lives there?”
“Emelia Adams? I can’t believe it.”
“This one’s yours, and it could be a big one. I trust you. Don’t screw it up.” Sal’s words still echoed in my ears as I pulled into the garage below the building. It made me laugh when the old man acted like he cared about integrity. He’d fended off more lawsuits in the seven years I’d written for him than I could fathom. He always won, too. He could afford the lawyers.
Sure enough, the lobby crawled with cops, both uniformed and plain clothes. I flashed my own badge—my press badge. A burly cop with an impressive handlebar mustache sneered at me.
“It’s okay, Lou.” I recognized the detective who approached us. “She’s one of the good ones.”
“Thank you, Frank. You’re a gentleman.” I winked at the man with the mustache before Frank and I walked toward the elevator. Once we were inside, with the doors closed, I slipped him a twenty.
“Thanks,” I muttered, pulling out a notepad. “What’ve you got up there?”
“Looks like suicide. She’s laid out on the bed, eyes glazed. Been there for hours.”
“Burglary? Sex games gone wrong?” I scribbled notes.
“Nothing so far. The place is clean, and I mean squeaky.” The tired detective shook his salt-and-pepper head, leaning against the wall of the elevator car. “This is a tough one. It disgusts me, the way these people ruin themselves.”
“Yes, but if they didn’t, we wouldn’t have jobs, would we?”
He grinned, watching me with half-closed eyes. “Yeah. But I could get a job anywhere. Where would you work?”
“Oh, gee. I’m sure there’s some small-town newspaper looking for ex-sleazy journalists.” I grinned. The doors opened, and Frank went straight into the apartment. I looked around, taking in the grandeur around me. Crystal chandeliers, glistening hardwood floors.
And that was just the hallway.
The apartment on the other side of the open door was the stuff of dreams. I wondered how much it would go for once it went up for sale. Two floors, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Hollywood Hills. It was spacious, airy, the sort of place I would have expected the town’s hottest actress to live.
I strolled through the living room, then jogged up the spiral staircase to the second floor. It overlooked the living room. At one end was a set of open doors. The master bedroom.
A few members of the press milled around outside the doorway, two officers standing shoulder-to-shoulder to block the view into the room. I saw flashes going off in there, and heard a lot of low mumbling. I tried to see past the shoulders of the cops in front of the room. It was impossible.
Suicide. It didn’t sound like her at all. Was I only thinking that because I was such a fan?
One of the cops walked into the bedroom, leaving a little more room for me to peer into the crime scene. I stood in the background, craning my neck, watching as forensics experts dissected the room. Dusting for fingerprints, picking up random hairs, looking around the sides of the bed in particular—if Emelia’s death was the result of murder, and she died in bed, it stood to reason that the most likely places for fibers and hair were the perimeter and surface of the bed.
“I hate cases like this.” I knew that voice and stood at attention before I knew what I was doing. Why was I sticking my breasts out? Why was I running a hand through my unruly black hair—like that would actually help calm it? An entire can of hairspray probably couldn’t. Why did I wish, the instant I heard the deep, resonant voice, that I had worn a little extra makeup that day?
I had to get his attention. I cleared my throat once, twice. That did nothing—I was in a hallway with a dozen other people and he was busy. I had an idea.
“This is Julia Mabel.” I raised my voice, pretending to talk on the phone with a coworker about an upcoming deadline. I did my best to be cool, and paced the floor like I was too distracted to care whether he heard me.
It worked. Dan appeared in the doorway, dapper as always in what had to be a custom-tailored suit. No tie, top button of his white shirt popped open. His brown hair looked tousled like he’d been running his hands through it. His slow, sexy smile was enough to set my heart racing.
“I’ve gotta go. I’ll call you later.” Slipping the phone into my bag, I flashed Dan Pierce a smile of my own. “How’s it going in there, Detective?” I asked, still smiling. He could be my in. I had to be smooth.
“Considering that I’m the one who’s alive and she’s the one who’s dead, I would say it’s going fine for me.”
I shook my head in mock disappointment. “Ouch. How insensitive.” Looking around to be sure we weren’t ove
rheard, I lowered my voice. “Really, though. Is it what they’re saying? Do they think she killed herself?”
He sighed, pushing his hands into the pockets of suit pants that likely cost more than my monthly rent. He certainly dressed the part of Hollywood’s premiere homicide detective. And just my luck that he happened to be assigned to the same case I was.
“I shouldn’t tell you anything,” he said. I knew he was teasing. It was our usual song-and-dance routine.
“Come on, Dan. Call it professional courtesy.”
“I don’t owe you any professional courtesies,” he pointed out, a friendly smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. “After all, I’m a cop. In many circles, you’re considered a bottom feeder.”
I arched one eyebrow and moved just a bit closer to him, playing right into his games. “And there’s never been a cop who didn’t plant evidence or look the other way when enough money was involved, has there?” He smirked, revealing dimples in his scruffy cheeks. He even made skipping a shave look sexy.
“Fair enough. I can trust you, can’t I?”
“Do you even need to ask?”
“Honestly? Yes, I do.”
I shook my head. “You disappoint me.” My pulse pounded as he stepped aside, allowing me into the crime scene. I almost didn’t register the little thrill at being so close to him when I walked in. I was that horrified by what I saw.
There she was. I paused for a moment, taking a deep breath as emotion ran high. Hers wasn’t the first dead body I’d ever seen—it was Hollywood, after all. Celebrity deaths were a dime a dozen. Near-celebrities, even more common.
Only this wasn’t the typical “I saw this coming a mile away” situation. A star who we all watched burn bright, then fizzle out as she fell spectacularly apart.
That wasn’t Emelia Adams. She was anything but.
“Fan of hers?” Dan asked. There was smugness in his voice, that teasing quality we always used with each other, but it masked something more. He sounded almost caring for a second there.
“Who isn’t?” I moved around the walls of the room, staying clear of the bed.
“Wasn’t, you mean. Past tense.”
