Holding Her Close

by Lexi Ryan

  “Impulsive. Achy.” She licks her lips. They’re pink and just a little swollen. I want to see what they look like after a night in my bed, after I’ve sucked and abused them. “A scary amount of wild.”

  That word reminds me of our first night together. I told her I wanted her to be wild. To fuck my face as I went down on her. “Tell me what else I make you feel.”

  “Brave. I’ve never been like this.”

  Taking my hand, she presses it to the side of her neck where her pulse dances under my fingertips. “My heart races every time you step close. My body aches just because you walk in the room.” She pauses for a beat, then takes a breath. “Tell me it’s a little like that for you.”

  I see the truth in her eyes. She needs my reassurance right now. She needs to know she’s wanted. She should know. She’s a fucking actress, adored the world around, but she needs me to tell her, and even if it’s foolish I can’t deny her that.

  “It’s not a little like that,” I whisper. Just as she starts to pull away, I explain. “It’s worse. I want you so much, it’s killing me. I wanted you in the shower with me this morning. I wanted to spread you out on that big bed, wanted to find out if you tasted as sweet as I remembered.” My hand grazes the side of her neck and dips down to the soft swell of her breasts. “You want to know what I imagined doing to you? How often I think about tasting you again?”

  “Show me.”

  I grab a fistful of her shirt, not bothering to be gentle as I yank it down. She’s not wearing a bra beneath the low-cut top, and I lower my mouth to her exposed breast. I circle her nipple with my tongue and then suck until she moans. I’ve been hard since I kissed her on the dance floor, since the moment lust and want were so potent in my blood they overrode my anger and made every intention I had go blurry. The sound of her moan only intensifies the ache in my dick. “You make me crazy. I can’t decide if I should stay far away from you or keep you as close as possible.”

  She reaches behind her neck and her shirt falls, pooling around her waist and exposing her breasts to my hands and mouth.

  “You’re perfect.” I cup a breast in each hand and graze her nipples with my thumbs. “I could look at you for hours. But I’d rather touch you. Feel you. Listen to the sounds you make when you come.”

  “Let me.” She strokes me through my jeans, gently at first, and then with more pressure. “I want you in my hand.” Sliding to the floorboard, she positions herself on her knees. “And since I didn’t get to do it in the shower . . . in my mouth.”

  Christ. She goes for my zipper, and all my restraint is gone. Not that I had much to begin with. I don’t want any restraint, couldn’t give two fucks that she could stomp on my heart at the end of this. I just want her. Her mouth. Her lips. Her tongue. All of her dirty promises.

  Helping her, I push my pants and boxer briefs down my hips until my cock springs free. She wraps it in her fist. There are no teasing touches, just her firm grip, the pleasure that jackhammers up my spine, and the sound of her moan filling my ears.

  She rubs me in long, even strokes, and then leans forward, a breath away from my tip, and looks up at me through her thick, dark lashes.

  “Tell me you want this,” she says, and I feel her ragged exhale against the sensitive head of my cock. “Tell me you want my mouth half as much as I want to put it on you.”

  I stroke my thumb over her cheek and take a fistful of her hair. “I want your mouth so much I might come the second your lips wrap around me.”

  She licks her lips. “Keep your hand in my hair. Tell me if I should . . . change something I’m doing.”

  Again, I think I catch a glimpse of that vulnerability in her eyes, but before I can turn it over and examine it, she slides her mouth over me and my thoughts scatter. Her mouth is so hot and wet, and this is so much better than every one of my countless fantasies about it. I push my head back against the seat, but I don’t close my eyes. I wouldn’t miss a second of this sight. The way her mouth stretches around my cock, the flush of her skin as she works me over.

  Part of my brain is aware of our surroundings—the traffic on the other side of the tinted windows, the driver in front of the privacy glass—but those facts fade with every stroke of her tongue. My reaction to her doesn’t make any sense, but it’s so primal I can’t reason it away. Everything about Janelle turns me on.

  She moans softly, and the vibration has my hips lifting off the seat, pushing my cock deeper before I can catch myself. I pull back, but her hands go to my hips, urging me forward and giving her a better angle to take me deep.

  For the first time in my life, I’m grateful for the LA traffic. I don’t want this to end. Not yet. I need to soak up every second of the heat of her mouth sliding over me. The sight of her bare breasts as she moves. I forget everything that kept me tangled in knots tonight and memorize the sight of her like this.

  I don’t know how much time has passed—seconds, minutes, hours—but when my orgasm bears down on me, it’s too soon.

  “Janelle,” I say in a hoarse whisper. “Sweetheart, I’m gonna come.”

  She moans in response and cups my balls in her hand. When I come, it’s hard and fast, and she keeps me deep in her mouth so I can feel her squeeze my dick as she swallows.

  Holy shit.

  She pulls back slowly. I tuck myself back into my briefs and pull my jeans back up my hips, suddenly too aware of where we are and what she just did for me.

  Avoiding my gaze, she repositions her top, hiding those perfect tits from me and securing the strap behind her neck.

  When she climbs into the seat beside me, I growl, “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “My seat?”

  “Your seat is in my lap.” I have to touch her, to feel her body against mine and give her even a fraction of the pleasure she just gave me.

  Obeying, she straddles me like she did earlier. Her cheeks are pink, as if she’s embarrassed. She’s such a contradiction—just sucked me off in the car but is embarrassed about climbing onto my lap.

  “Better?” she asks.

  “I’ll be better when I finally have you safe in the room again.” A lie. Being alone with her won’t make me feel any better. I won’t be better until I’m buried deep inside her. Maybe not even then. This woman does things to me. Like sends me into such a panic that I don’t even look for a fucking note when she’s missing, then gets me so hard that I let her suck me off in the back of a car. She has me breaking every rule I have about getting involved with actresses and Hollywood, and I don’t even care.

  “Aren’t I safe right now? I’m with you, aren’t I?”

  I kiss her swollen mouth, slowly sucking her bottom lip between my teeth before pulling back. “I’m ashamed to admit that you distract the fuck out of me.”

  She smiles. “I think I like it when you’re distracted. Hire someone else for security. Jamaal will watch for bad guys, and I’ll distract you.”

  “I saw how close he was sitting to you.” I saw it and didn’t like it. Jealousy isn’t an emotion I feel often, but they seemed so comfortable around each other. For a split second, I was consumed by how much I wanted that. “I’m not so sure Jamaal wasn’t just as distracted by you as I am.”

  Giggling, she shakes her head. “No. Uh, I’m not his type.”

  “You’re every man’s type, princess,” I say, but she stares at me and I realize what she means. “He doesn’t like women?”

  “Not romantically, no.”

  Good. “What did he say to you? Back at the table?” I take her hand in mine and lace our fingers together. “When I was trying to get you to leave, he dropped the badass routine for a minute. He laughed and whispered something to you.”

  She ducks her head and buries her face in my chest. “Nothing.”

  I take her chin in my hand and tilt her face up to mine.

  “I promise he wasn’t whispering sweet nothings,” she says, biting back a smile.

  “What was he whispering?”


  “He said you looked like you wanted to spank me.” Something flares in her eyes, and I swallow hard, because damn. “Do you?”

  “I can honestly say that before tonight, spanking a woman has never appealed to me.”

  “And after tonight?”

  “If I thought smacking your ass would help you make better decisions, I’d consider it.” I study her for a beat. “You scared the shit out of me.”

  She sighs. “I’m sorry. I am. I knew you’d be unhappy about me going out, but frankly, Cade, I know you have this alpha caveman thing going on, but I’m not the kind of girl who wants some guy bossing her around. I’m a grown woman, and I am capable of taking care of myself.”

  “I imagine Courtney thought the same thing before she was drugged.” I draw in a deep breath. I need this reminder as much as she does—all the reasons I need to keep my head on straight and not let lust shut down my brain. “I saw you in that club, drinking, laughing, dressed like this, and I imagined the creep who’s after you sitting in there watching you. Waiting to make his move. These clothes show twice as much as they cover. More.”

  “Does that bother you? That I’m showing this much skin?” She wiggles in my lap as she asks, and her skirt inches up her thighs.

  I slide my hands behind her and cup her ass in my hands. Fuck, but she’s perfect. Every inch, every curve. “Under normal circumstances, no.” My gaze drops to her cleavage. “Despite what you think of me, I’m not some caveman who thinks he should have a say in how women dress. It’s your body.”

  “But,” she says, and I sigh.

  “But tonight I’d rather you hadn’t drawn so much attention to yourself.”

  “This is just how people dress for that club. Not dressing like this would draw attention to me.”

  “I’d still rather you hadn’t gone there at all.” I trace her jaw with my knuckle. “Jamaal might have your best interests at heart, but he can’t follow you into the ladies’ room.”

  I can tell she wants to argue but she’s holding back. “Why did you think to check for me at the HiLo?”

  She doesn’t know. Jesus. “It’s the last place Courtney remembers before her blackout. We’re guessing that’s where she was drugged.”

  Her breath catches. “I didn’t know that.”

  “I was beginning to suspect as much.”

  “It was our favorite club,” she says. “Back when we were doing Roommates, we spent a ton of time at the HiLo.”

  “Another reason to avoid the place. This guy—or woman, or whoever—is obsessed with everything that ties you to your role on Roommates.”

  “I wouldn’t have gone there if I’d known, but you can’t expect me to stay cloistered until you find this guy. Be reasonable.”

  “Reasonable? I’d rather be smart, princess. For all we know, Matt could be the one sending the letters. He could be the one who broke into your condo. The one who drugged Courtney and abducted her. Maybe he lured you there tonight to drug your drink.”

  “Matt? You’re kidding, right?”

  “My point is, I don’t want you out of my sight until we know who we can trust. It’s temporary.”

  She shakes her head. “I appreciate you trying to protect me. I really do, but I’m not going to let some creep scare me into the shadows. I can’t just hide. I need to live my life.”

  “You’ll be safe. That’s all that matters.”

  Turning her head, she looks at the traffic out the window. “I’ll go out of my mind.”

  “Like I went out of my mind when I thought you were missing.” I can’t even think about those three hours without my gut knotting. The need to touch her surges. Even having her this close isn’t enough to put all tonight’s fears to rest.

  “I don’t know what I did to make you care so much,” she says, her eyes locked on mine.

  You existed.

  Christ, I’m pathetic. This isn’t just about making amends for past mistakes. There’s something about her that had me tied in knots when I thought she was missing. Something about her that had me getting on that plane.

  I don’t want to analyze that right now. Instead, I slide my hands under her short skirt and skim my fingers over wet lace. She lifts her hips, coming up onto her knees to give me a better angle to slide my fingers into her panties. “Maybe our time together won’t be as bad as you imagine.”

  Fuck. She’s so wet, and I’m half hard again just feeling her. I slide one finger inside her and she gasps, her sex squeezing tight around me, and then suddenly she’s scrambling into the seat beside me.

  She smooths down her skirt and I’m trying to figure out what the fuck I did to make her pull away when my driver opens the door. We’ve arrived at the back entrance of the hotel, and I had no idea we’d even gotten close.

  I don’t just lose my focus around her. I lose my mind.

  Chapter 9

  Janelle

  Cade climbs out of the car and offers his hand to help me.

  Can a person die of lust? Because I might. I can still taste him on my tongue and my head is filled with the low sounds he made while I went down on him. When he slid a finger inside me, I thought I might come right then and there. The sight of the driver walking around to open Cade’s door was the only thing that stopped my spontaneous combustion.

  There’s a bellman waiting for us by the back entrance. “Welcome back, Mr. Watts,” he says with a nod. I notice he never acknowledges me by name, but I’d bet money he knows who I am.

  “Thank you.” Cade pulls me closer as he tucks my hand under his arm.

  I shouldn’t overthink this, but I’m struck by the difference in him—the stark contrast between this Cade and the one who found me in the club. That Cade was the irritated bodyguard. This Cade holds me close in a way that is warmer and more possessive.

  We’re led through the service entrance and to the housekeeping elevator. Cade’s steps are long and purposeful, as if he wants us to be alone again as much as I do.

  “Are you still planning to check out tomorrow, Mr. Watts?” the bellman asks as we file into the elevator.

  “Yes, but we may need the room until mid-afternoon,” Cade says. “I have a meeting in the morning.”

  “Where are we going tomorrow?” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I want to snatch them back. We? I shouldn’t assume there’s a we. Maybe Cade plans to be done with me tomorrow. Maybe he—

  “We’re going home.”

  “Home?”

  “You’re staying at my place.” Any softness that had found its way into his expression earlier leaves, and his face goes hard. “No arguments. There’s too much we don’t know.”

  He means we’re returning to New Hope, but New Hope isn’t my home. It’s the place I stay when I’m trying to escape the loneliness of my real life. My life in LA. My fake life that’s as empty and shallow as the people I called my friends. If Courtney and Jo had been real friends, I wouldn’t have lost them as easily as I did my marriage.

  New Hope is the place I go to pretend I can have all the things my brother found with Hanna. I’m not sure how I should feel about going there and staying with Cade. A dull warning bell rings in the back of my mind, but I ignore it in favor of the warmth swirling in my belly.

  It would be a mistake to want anything more from Cade than what he’s offering. And what is he offering, exactly? Protection and maybe a few mind-blowing orgasms to pass the time. Is that enough for me?

  The elevator dings, and Cade leads the way to our room and unlocks the door with his keycard. He walks straight to the couch where he had his makeshift bed. The pillow is on the floor and a blanket sits in a bunch on the coffee table, as if he kicked it there in his sleep. He lifts it, finding the note beneath and studying it for a beat.

  “Fuck,” he mutters, and his jaw tightens.

  I don’t want to lose what we had in the car. “I should have woken you,” I blurt out. I don’t know what I would do if I could go back, but I hate that I caused him so much worry.

>   “Yes. You should have. But I should have thought to look for a fucking note.” He drags a hand through his short dark hair. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. You do something to me, princess. You make me . . .” He shakes his head.

  “What?” I take the opportunity to turn the tables on him. “What do I make you?”

  “Careless,” he says, dropping the note back onto the end table. “Panicked. And really fucking bad at my job.”

  There’s that word again. Job. It’s a reminder I need. “Did someone hire you to protect me?”

  “No.”

  “I don’t understand why you’re here, then. You protect people, sure, but you could be doing that at home. Doing the job you’re paid to do.”

  He swallows. “Once I was pissed off at someone, and I didn’t protect her like I should have. I promised myself I wouldn’t make that mistake again.”

  There’s more there, maybe something with Cara, but I decide not to dig. Not yet. Instead, I take the information for what it is—a reminder that this isn’t about me—and wrap it like a flimsy barrier around my heart. It’s not enough in terms of armor, but it’s all I have against a man who strips me bare.

  “You’ll come home with me tomorrow?” he asks. His eyes are hot and hungry when he turns them on me, and with that flutter of anticipation in my belly, I make my decision. What he’s offering might not be enough, but I’m going to take it, even if the price is my heart. “You’ll stay at my place?”

  “Suddenly I have a choice?” I’m teasing, but he stalks toward me.

  “Not really, princess.” He slides a hand into my hair and lowers his mouth until it’s hovering so close I can almost taste him. “Don’t argue with me, okay?” His lips brush across mine. Teasing. Sweet. “Just tell me you’ll come. Tell me I’ll have you with me.”

  Of course I’ll come. Even if I didn’t take the stalker situation seriously, there’s the fact that Cade is doing me a huge favor by pretending to be my boyfriend. And even if neither of those held true, there’s the way he’s asking, and how desperately I want more of him.