My breath catches as the line finally clicks, and I hear Harrison’s voice on the other end of the call.
“You don’t have to explain,” he says, his voice hollow.
“Harrison, thank God—”
“I’m not the brightest guy in the world, but I know what it means when a woman stands me up,” he says, “Really, Siena, I’m trying to respect your wishes here—”
“The only thing I’m wishing right now is to be with you,” I tell him, my eyes welling up once more. You’d think that I’d be all out of tears, after this afternoon.
“I don’t understand,” Harrison says, “Why didn’t you come to see me? I waited in front of the museum—”
“Something came up. Something...huge,” I say, struggling to get the words out. “Please, I can’t do this on the phone. Tell me where we can meet.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Absolutely.”
“We could be seen.”
“I don’t give a shit.”
“OK,” Harrison says, “Give me ten minutes.”
He hangs up the phone, and I sink down onto my bed in silence. I know, rationally, that it’s insane to meet Harrison tonight. I should be staying far away from him, now more than ever. But to keep away from him at a time like this, to deprive us both of the only comfort we’ve ever known, is absolutely insane. In the face of my father’s catastrophic news, I can’t bring myself to care about blackmail or scandal. My heart and body know what they need, and trump my reasonable mind every time. I need Harrison right now, just as I know he needs me.
In no time, a text message arrives on my phone with the address of a hotel just outside the city limits. There’s no time to lose. I gather a few belongings and wrench open my door, not even bothering to clean up my makeup-streaked face. I book it out of the hotel, hurrying lest anyone catch a glimpse of me departing. I don’t want to field questions and sympathies from any well-meaning teammates, I don’t want to get wrapped up in petty social nonsense. I want to disappear, to go and be with the man I love...to feel the slightest whisper of comfort in this horrible moment of my life.
I manage to locate a cab and slip into the backseat before anyone realizes I’m on the move. We tear off into the night, leaving the elegant hotel behind. I close my eyes in the backseat, my thoughts spinning madly. The seconds crawl on, feeling like hours as we soar away from Moscow. Finally, we pull up in front of a tiny, hole-in-the-wall inn. I throw a handful of Russian currency at my driver and step out onto the curb, hurrying inside.
Behind the tiny reception desk is a weathered old man wearing a chunky sweater and a stoic expression. I force my lips into a smile as I approach.
“I’m looking for a man who’s just checked in,” I tell him.
He gives me a suspicious once-over, and I realize how insane I must look—tear-stained and rumpled, desperate and wrecked.
“I don’t like funny business happening in my hotel,” the man tells me, “If you’re up to something unseemly—”
“I’m not a hooker,” I say, my voice harsh and rasping, “It’s just been a long day. Give me a break.”
“Okay, okay,” the man says, “I’m sorry, Miss. I don’t know anything. A man check into room three. Blonde man. Very tall. Is this who you look for?”
“Yes,” I say, “Thank you.”
“I hope you feel better,” the man says halfheartedly as I hurry away up the rickety staircase toward Harrison’s room.
An old wooden door sporting a brass number three stands just down the narrow hall. I approach and rap my knuckles gently against the door. My entire body is trembling with exhaustion, anticipation, and worry. As the door eases open, the first thing I see is Harrison’s face peering down at me. There’s not an ounce of resentment or anger to be found in his expression. The flood of relief I feel upon seeing him carries me across the threshold, straight into his arms. He takes me in, pulling me close as he eases the door shut and locks it tight.
For a long moment, we simply stand there together, wrapped in a tight embrace. I can’t will my mouth to form words of explanation, not just yet. I just need to take in the feel of Harrison’s body against mine, the tight, hard muscles and sinew beneath my hands. Standing here with him, I can almost forget for a moment the torrential downpour of awful news that’s come to drown me. How can a world that is cruel enough to tear my father away from me still offer up such a wonderful blessing as Harrison Davies?
Harrison plants a kiss on the top of my head, pushing me straight over the edge. The tears begin to roll down my cheeks, losing themselves in the fabric of Harrison’s black tee shirt. He holds me ever closer as my shoulders begin to shake, and doesn’t ask a single question as I weep. All he does is hold me—and that’s all I need in the world.
My legs feel so weak, I can barely keep myself from sliding down onto the hardwood floor. Harrison feels the strength leaving my body and all but carries me across the tiny, antiquated room to an old four poster bed. A gauzy canopy stretches over top of us as we settle down on top of a heavy quilt. I curl up onto my side, and Harrison lowers himself down beside me. I press my back against his firm chest, and his arms encircle me. He rests his cheek against mine, and I feel the warmth of his breath on my flushed skin.
“Can you tell me what’s happened?” he asks, as my tears finally subside.
“Oh, Harrison,” I moan, “Where do I even begin?”
“Start at the beginning,” he suggests.
And I do. I tell me everything that’s been weighing on my mind these past few weeks, months, even. I walk him back to our first night in Barcelona, tell him about the guilt that’s been eating away at me since his rivalry with Enzo first reared its ugly head. I tell him about my frustration at having him, and my brother, and every other man in my life tell me what’s best for me. I describe my terror at being discovered, ousted by our blackmailer, and how violated I feel having someone threaten us this way. I tell him about my suspicions concerning Charlie and Shelby, my anxiety about Bex and Enzo spending so much time with my possible suspects.
“Why couldn’t you tell me all of this this afternoon?” Harrison asks, kissing my cheek, “Were you just afraid to come see me in person? Or did something stop you?”
I draw in a deep, rattling breath and turn to face him. His eyes are full of wary concern, and as much as I hate to bring this horrible news back to the present moment, he has to know what’s going on.
“It’s my dad,” I whisper, reaching for his hands, “He’s sick, Harrison.”
“What do you mean, sick?” he asks softly.
“I mean, he called me and Enzo into his room this afternoon to come clean. Just before the tour started he found out...he was diagnosed with...”
“Take your time, baby,” Harrison says, stroking my hand with his thumb.
“He has cancer,” I whisper, as if saying the words quietly might make them any less true, “It started in his lungs, but it’s spread. They couldn’t operate, it had advanced too far by the time they found it. And he won’t go through chemo or radiation. At this rate, by the end of the season...he might already be gone.”
Harrison doesn’t say a word, he simply gathers me up in his arms. We’re silent for a long while, our bodies speaking the volumes we can’t bring ourselves to. I know that Harrison must be feeling his own empathetic grief for his father. He knows what it’s like to lose a parent. But Harrison couldn’t stand his father. And I...Well, we’ve always butted heads, but I love him. There’s never been anything more important to me than family. And now mine is on the verge of falling apart.
“Siena, I’m so sorry...” Harrison finally says, “Whatever you need from me, it’s yours. If you want me to stay away so you can be with your family, I’ll do it. But if you want me here—”
“I want you here,” I tell him, “I need you here.”
“Then here I am,” he says, brushing my hair away from my forehead.
“I was going to tell them,” I groan, “Before
my Dad dropped this on us. I was going to tell my dad and Enzo that I was seeing you, before it got out some other way. I just couldn’t work up the nerve. I missed my one chance.”
“Baby—”
“I should have told them,” I say, “I should have been honest from the start. Why did I have to lie?”
“You were trying to protect their feelings,” Harrison says, “Just like your dad was trying to do by keeping his diagnosis to himself. You’re all just trying to look out for each other, to be the strongest and bravest of the bunch. But maybe the time’s come for you all to lean on each other a little bit more.”
“But I can’t tell them about us now,” I insist, “With dad sick and all? And it’s not just that. He told me this afternoon that he’s grooming me to be his replacement on Team Ferrelli. If he...when he...passes away, I’ll take his place as a majority shareholder. I’ll really be part of the team then.”
“Oh...” Harrison says, at a loss.
“So you see my predicament?” I smile sadly.
“Our predicament,” Harrison corrects me, “Make no mistake, Siena. We’re still in this together. Now more than ever, I’m not going to let you shoulder this on your own. Whatever I can do to help, just say the word.”
“I just...I don’t know what to do, Harrison,” I tell him, “Tell me what I should do.”
“Whatever feels right,” he says, “Not nice, not polite. But right.”
“I want to be honest with my family,” I say, “I want to be there for my dad, I want to step up and become a part of the team. And I want you to be there with me through all of it.”
“Then we’ll just have to figure out a way to make that happen,” Harrison says.
“But how?” I ask, exasperated, “How can we come clean without making some dreadfully big deal about it?”
“I have no fucking idea,” Harrison laughs, “You’re the PR genius, aren’t you?”
I look up at him, a little spark of an idea glimmering in my mind. I hadn’t even thought of putting my professional brain to work on our little dilemma before. What if I came at this whole, messy situation like I would a PR emergency?
“Harrison,” I say, pulling myself up on my elbow, “You might just be a genius.”
“Tell me something I don’t know,” he grins.
“Seriously,” I say, the gears of my mind spinning, “What if we’ve been approaching this all wrong? What if, instead of living in fear of being exposed, we let the world find out about us on our own terms?”
“Do you think we could make that work?” Harrison asks, propping himself up on a muscled forearm.
“I don’t see why not.”
“This isn’t exactly the ideal moment, is it?” he presses, “With your dad—”
“It was never going to be the ideal moment,” I say, taking his hands in mine, “Us being together was never going to be something that people would accept off the bat. But think about it, Harrison. If we’re ousted, we look like a couple of liars and sneaks. But if we make our relationship public, we look like mature adults trying to do the right thing.”
“I don’t know, Siena,” Harrison says.
“What are you worried about?” I ask.
“Besides your family’s ire and my team’s outrage?” he laughs.
“How can any of them hold it against us if we’re honest?” I ask, “It made sense for us to keep this a secret at first, Harrison. We thought this might be a fling, we thought we’d never even see each other again after that first night in Barcelona. For fuck’s sake, I thought you were some anonymous pit crew member when we first met. But it’s been months, Harrison. And in these past few months, I’ve stopped thinking of this as something fleeting. I want to be with you, Harrison. And not in secret, either. I want to be able to spend all of my time with you, to share your victories and help shoulder your defeats. I need you in my life, always. I love you. I think I may have loved you from the start.”
“I love you too, Siena,” Harrison says, taking my face in his hands, “And I’ll follow your lead on this one. If you think getting out in front of it is the best idea...I trust you. Work your PR magic on this thing. If we could be together for the entire world to see...that would just be perfect. I don’t want to hide what we have any longer. The rest of the world can just deal with it.”
“I’ll take care of everything,” I say, running my hands down his rock hard chest, “We’ll get through this, you and me. It’ll all be for the best, you’ll see.”
“The only thing I see right now is my gorgeous woman sitting right in front of me after far too long,” Harrison says, his voice rasping lustily. His tone sends ripples of excitement skirting across my skin. It’s been weeks since we’ve been able to touch each other, hold each other. He’s right—that’s far too long.
“God, I’ve missed your hands on me,” I tell him, lying back on the bed.
“You don’t have to tell me,” he says, running his fingers down my side. “I can’t believe I’ve managed to stay away from you at all. All I’ve wanted to do these past couple of weeks is break down your door and carry you away.”
“What am I, some kind of damsel in distress?” I laugh, stretching like a house cat under his expert touch.
“Not even remotely,” he says, tracing a fingertip from my collar to my navel, “That’s why I knew I could stand these two weeks. I knew I could trust you to take care of yourself. To help me find a way to take care of us.”
“That’s more like it,” I smile, arching my back as Harrison swings a leg over my body. I’ve missed the weight of him on top of me so badly—that comforting, warm presence. Right here, with Harrison, is where I feel safe. It’s where I feel at home.
“I know you better than to think you need rescuing, Siena,” Harrison says, his full lips just inches from mine. “But at the same time...I’m glad we’re finally getting around to rescuing each other.”
He presses his lips firmly against mine, and a rush of warmth spills over my entire body. Our mouths move together, our tongues glancing against each other. He tastes even sweeter than I remembered. I bury my hands in his sandy blonde hair, pulling him closer and closer to me. He grabs my wrists, pinning them above my head. I let out a gasp as his lips leave mine, find the sensitive skin of my throat. He trails long, deep kisses all across my skin, working his way down little by little.
“I love knowing how good I make you feel,” he growls, tugging at the neck of my tee with his pearly whites.
“I can tell how you love it,” I say, pressing my hips against his stiff manhood.
“Can you blame me?” he laughs, releasing my hands, “I could never get enough of you, Siena. Never.”
His strong hands slip under my thin cotton tee shirt, drawing the garment up over my head. He tosses the shirt away and runs his hands along my bare torso. Waves of goose bumps arise in the wake of his fingers, and he grins to see them.
“You know exactly how to touch me,” I breathe.
“Good,” he says, popping open the button of my jeans, “Because it’s all I want to do.”
He tugs at my skinny jeans, sliding them down off my thighs and calves. I plant my feet on the soft quilt as he tosses the jeans away, letting my knees part before him. With his eyes glued to my nearly naked form, he rips the black tee shirt up over his head and snaps open his belt buckle. He shucks off his light denim blue jeans and kneels over me. His black briefs are no match for the massive length of him.
“Did I do that?” I laugh, nodding toward his ever-stiffening member.
“You know exactly what you do to me, Siena Lazio,” he says, lowering himself onto me.
I rake my nails along his broad back as he brushes his lips against first one breast, then the other. Reaching around my back, his fingers deftly unclasp my bra, and he closes his teeth around one lacy black cup, pulling the garment away from body. I moan, delighted, as he closes his lips around my hard, tender nipple. He flicks the tip of his tongue against the erect little peak,
cupping my ample breasts in his hands. I can feel my own desire throbbing between my legs as he bites down, just hard enough.
“I want to feel your mouth all over me,” I tell him.
“Oh, I think I can handle that...” he says, sitting back on his knees.
He hooks his fingers into the band of my skimpy black thong and, ever-so-slowly, slides it down my trembling legs. Tossing my panties away, he plants his hands on my knees, easing them further apart. I let him spread me open, loving the way his eyes drink me in.
“Wait,” I say, reaching for him. “I want to see you, too...”
The corners of his mouth twist upward as he catches my drift. Standing on his knees, Harrison lowers his briefs down over the firm swell of his ass, letting me see the full, pulsing length of him once again. It’s all I can to do keep from pulling him down on top of me at once. I want so badly to feel full of him again, but more than that, I want us to take our time.
As if reading my mind, Harrison pushes back on my knees, titling my hips up toward him. He threads his arms beneath my bent legs and brings his lips to the skin just above my knee. A shudder runs through me as I fall back against the bed.
“Easy now,” Harrison smiles, letting his kisses travel further and further up my thigh, “I’m just getting started...”
I shove my hands through my hair as I feel Harrison’s lips caress my sensitive skin, and spread my legs further. I want to offer myself up to Harrison, to be entirely in his hands...and lips...and just about everything else.
He plants his hands on my inner thighs, raising his lips to the hollow that dips beside my hip bone. His lips touch down against that shallow valley, and I can feel his breath against my throbbing sex. He trails his tongue across the mound just above where I want to feel him, teasing me mercilessly.
“Please,” I gasp, “Please, Harrison. Let me feel you—”
But my words trail off into a wordless moan as Harrison runs his tongue along the length of my wet slit. He flattens his tongue against me, running it over my pink flesh. I grab handfuls of bedding, twisting the layers in my quivering fists. With each pass, Harrison’s tongue goes just a bit deeper, a bit further. His hands press gently, opening me further still. I can feel my hard, aching clit exposed before Harrison’s expert mouth...and I know that I’m a goner.
Take Me Series (COMPLETE BOX SET) Page 23
