“Stop.” She placed a finger against my lips and met my gaze. “Don’t talk like that. What happened today was not your fault. What happened at Living Light was not your fault. Don’t, even for a second, believe you could have changed what happened.”
I smiled and placed a soft kiss on the pad of her finger. She ran it across my skin until it nestled in my hair. Straddling me, she pulled me into a deep kiss, and I welcomed every inch of her. I caressed her soft tongue with my own, relishing her flavor mixed with the wine she’d just finished. It was sweet yet tart. These were the moments I lived for, because I was able to release my pain and lose myself in Jezebel. We pulled away, breathless.
“How do you feel?” she asked me, running a hand through my hair.
“Dirty,” I said.
She smiled. “Me too.” Her eyes betrayed her arousal.
“I didn’t mean in that way, but if you keep looking at me with your come-fuck-me eyes, I just might scratch that itch.”
She laughed. “Why don’t you take a quick shower and meet me on the roof?”
“You naughty minx,” I said as I swatted her ass.
I stared at her, loving the way she looked at me. For so long, I’d feared my truth would scare her. I’d worried my lies would break what we had. I couldn’t believe I’d doubted our love. What we had was true, real, raw, and once in a lifetime. No secret, no lie, no demons, could ever destroy what we shared.
“I love you, James.”
“I love you, too. Always.”
I found her on the rooftop deck, my skin still slick from my shower. I was grateful she’d offered me a brief reprieve rather than jumping into my pants, which was what she really craved.
The roof was our private domain. No one else in the building had access. After she’d moved in, she decorated it to her taste and included a sizable hot tub.
The sun had long since set, and the night was alive. The sounds of the city wafted up here, but they were dull, falling almost mute to my ears. As I walked toward her, the only lighting was from the moon, the stars, and the cityscape in the distance. For so long, I’d hated this city, but I could understand why Jezebel loved it so much. At night, with the building lights flickering in the distance, it was beautiful.
I found her soaking in the tub, her eyes closed. My body ached to join her and not just because I badly needed a relaxing soak. I dropped my towel and stepped into the hot water. It was scalding, but past experience assured me it wouldn’t actually burn my flesh.
She opened her eyes as I sat down beside her. Turning, she rested her legs on my lap. I rubbed her feet, taking care to caress each toe, each heel, each tight calf. She moaned as I worked my way up her body. Over the past year, she’d slowly put on more weight, returning to her curvy frame. I cherished each deliciously soft curve.
I slid my hand between her legs, teasing her inner thigh. She moaned approvingly, biting her lower lip. My cock twitched in response.
She shimmied over to me, water splashing as she straddled my lap. She kissed me and ran her hands through my hair, tugging on the ends. She massaged my scalp as I stroked her tongue with my own. Sucking, nipping, licking, I poured my soul into this kiss.
She arched her back, rubbing my dick between her folds. She gasped into my mouth when I pressed her hard against me, rubbing her clit against my girth.
“Yes. Like that,” she whispered, eyes closed as she leaned against me.
She lifted her ass until I slid inside her.
“Fuck,” I said in a long, exaggerated moan. Between the heat of the water and the tightness of her pussy, I was sure I’d come too quickly.
She angled her hips and pumped herself on my dick. I sat back and watched. I kept my hands on her waist so I could feel her rise and fall as she took pleasure from me. She sank onto me over and over again, each time with more speed, more force. The water from the hot tub splashed onto the surrounding deck. I was absolutely positive there’d be no water left by the time we were finished, but I didn’t care.
The hot tub’s jets turned on, shooting water against my sore back. I leaned forward to give them better access and latched on to Jezebel’s breast. I sucked her nipple, playfully nibbling the hard peak. When she cried out, I released it and licked away the pain.
“I’m going to come,” she said.
Before I could respond, I felt her clench down on my dick. She screamed my name as she came, and I was sure our formerly blissfully unaware neighbors now knew exactly what we were doing up here. Maybe they should take lessons.
My orgasm followed soon after hers. She slowed and fell against me to catch her breath as I released myself inside her. She was limp in my arms, resting after a good fuck. Little did she know, I was nowhere near done with her.
I grabbed her ass, turned her over, and quickly sank back into her depths. My cock twitched. The lingering sensations of my recent orgasm still tickled. I pushed her forward to where I had been sitting, and she grasped the edge of the tub. I angled her hips as I slid in and out, slowly at first, buying time until the perfect moment.
“Fuck!” she yelled when the jets sprayed her. I was hoping I’d angled her body right, waiting for the moment the rush of constant water shot against her swollen clit.
I increased my speed, chasing another orgasm, and slammed into her, nearly sending her out of the hot tub. I sank my fingers into the flesh of her curvy hips.
“Don’t stop, James,” she said, breathless.
“Never,” I promised.
Epilogue
I exhaled slowly as I assessed myself in the full-length mirror. My dress was tight. Was it too tight? My heels hurt. Would flats be acceptable? I heard the hallway floor creak as he approached. Taking one final glance, I scanned my body from head to toe. My hair was wrapped in a loose bun, flyaways untrappable, and I’d opted for simplistic makeup. Pressing my painted lips together, I smacked my mouth open and left the room.
“You look beautiful,” James said.
I could feel my cheeks heat at his compliment. James always had a way of making me swoon, whether it was because of his words or his wicked-hot body.
“You don’t look so bad yourself, handsome.” I winked.
“Ready?” he asked.
I could tell he was nervous. This was his first time, and I remembered how nervous I was when I was in his situation.
I nodded. “Are you ready?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Hand in hand, we hailed a taxi, enjoying the ride in silence. Every time I glanced over, I wondered if I could find the words to strengthen him. Even going through a similar situation, I was unequipped to truly help him face his past. I opened my mouth to speak, only to snap it shut again.
We arrived twenty minutes later. My heels dug into the ground, and I cursed myself for not wearing flats. We made our way past others who, I was sure, were waiting for visitors as well. I prayed they wouldn’t wait long.
When we reached them, I placed the flowers I’d been holding atop the soft, loose dirt.
“Hello, Mother. Father.”
I wrapped my arm around James, pulling him close to me. I nuzzled into him, leaning my weight against him and anchoring him to this place. I thought he’d need that, to feel my weight, to feel held down here. I feared he’d float away, renouncing all emotion.
“I’m sorry… I’m sorry it’s taken me as long as it has,” he added.
I knew this was a big step for him, and I cherished the moment.
Their shared headstone was light gray with darker engraved lettering. It was simplistic and beautiful, like the two souls who once occupied the bodies buried beneath. They were long gone now, but I was sure they watched over him. Often, I told him how proud they’d be of him. He was an honorable man who had overcome a dark past. So many would have succumbed to the rage. It took a strong soul to emerge from the shadows, and I made sure he never forgot that.
We sat in silence until the sun began to set. Until I felt the tension within James lif
t. Until we both had, finally and truly, laid our demons to rest.
Acknowledgments
This book wouldn’t be published without the amazing team at Waterhouse Press: Meredith, Jon, Scott, Robyn, Haley, and the many minds behind proofreading, formatting, and marketing. I wouldn’t be where I am in my career without your expertise. Words could never express how grateful I am to have met you all.
To Heather—you hold a special place in my heart, and it is fair to say this book is as good as it is because of your guidance. Thank you for all you’ve done.
To my readers—I love you all. Every day, I get to do what I love to do because you read my books. Thank you for giving me a chance.
And finally, to those bearing the pain of love lost—this one is for you. Find truth. Find hope. Find happiness… Again.
Start the Secrets of Stone Series by Angel Payne & Victoria Blue
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Excerpt from No Prince Charming
Book One in the Secrets of Stone Series
April…
Oh my God.
The words sprinted through my head, over and over, as I prodded at my lips in assurance I wasn’t dreaming. Or hopping dimensions. Or remembering the last half hour in a really crazy way. Or had hours passed, instead? I didn’t know anymore. Time was suddenly contorted.
Oh. My. God.
What the hell had just happened?
Forget my lips. My whole mouth felt like I’d just had dental work done, tingling in all the places his lips had touched moments ago—which had been everywhere.
My mind raced, trying to match the erratic beat of my heart. “Christ,” I whispered. My voice shook like a damn teenager’s, so I repeated myself. Because that helped, right?
Wrong. So wrong.
It was all because of that man. That dictatorial, demanding…
Nerve-numbing, bone-melting…
Man.
Who really knew how to deliver a kiss.
Hell. That kiss.
Okay, by this age, I’d been kissed before. I’d been everything before. But after what we’d just done, I’d be awake for long hours tonight. Long hours. Shaking with need… Shivering with fear.
I pressed the Call button for the elevator with trembling fingers. Turning back to face the door I’d just emerged from, I reconsidered pushing the buzzer next to it instead. The black lacquer panel around the button was still smudged by the angry fingerprints I’d left when arriving here not more than thirty minutes ago—answering his damn summons.
Yeah. He’d summoned me. And, like a breathless backstage groupie, I’d dropped everything and come. Why? He was my hemlock. He could be nothing else.
I was even more pissed now. At him. At me. At the thoughts that wouldn’t leave me alone now, all in answer to one tormenting question.
If Killian Stone kissed like that, what could he do to the rest of my body?
No. That kind of thinking was dangerous. The tiny hairs on the back of my neck stood up as if the air conditioner just kicked on at full power.
It had been a while since I’d been with a man. At least like…that.
Okay, it had been a long while.
For the last three years, career had come before all else. After the disaster I simply called the Nick Years, Dad had fought hard to help rebuild my spirit, including the doors he’d finagled open for me. Wasting those opportunities in favor of relationships wasn’t an option. My focus had paid off, leading to a coveted position at Asher and Associates PR, where I’d quickly advanced to the elite field team for Andrea Asher herself. The six of us, including Andrea and her daughter, Margaux, were called corporate America’s PR dream team. We were brought in when the blemishes were too big and horrid for in-house specialists, hired on a project-by-project basis for our thoroughness and objectivity. That also meant the assignments were intense, ruthless, and very temporary.
The gig at Stone Global was exactly such a job. And things were going well. Better than well. People were cooperating. The press was moving on to new prey. The job was actually ahead of schedule, and thank God for that. Soon, I’d be back in my rightful place at the home office in San Diego and what had just happened in Killian Stone’s penthouse would remain no more than a blip in my memory. A very secret blip.
I shook my head in defiance. What was wrong with having lived a little? At twenty-six, I was due for at least one heart-stopping kiss with a man who looked like dark sin, was built like a navy SEAL, and kissed like a fantasy. Sweet God, what a fantasy.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” I muttered. “You didn’t break any rules…technically. He consented. And you sure as hell consented. So you’re—”
Having an argument with yourself in the middle of a hallway in the Lincoln Park 2550 building, waiting on the world’s slowest damn elevator.
I leaned on the Call button again.
While still trying to talk myself out of pouncing on Killian’s buzzer too. Or perhaps back into it. If I could concoct an excuse to ring his doorbell before the elevator arrived…
No. This is dangerous, remember? He’s dangerous. You know all the sordid reasons why, his and yours.
Maybe I could just say I accidentally left my purse inside.
And that’ll fly…how? One glance down at my oversize Michael Kors clutch had me cursing the fashion-trend gods, along with their penchant for large handbags.
I leaned against the wall, closing my eyes and hoping for a lightbulb. I was bombarded with Killian’s smell instead. Armani Code. The cologne was still strong in my head, its rich bergamot and lemon mingling with the spice of his shampoo and the Scotch on his breath, like he’d scent-marked me through the intimacy of our skin…
My fingers roamed to my cheek, tracing the abrasion where he’d rubbed me with his stubble. My head fell back at the impact of the recollection.
In an instant, my mind conjured an image of him again, standing in front of me. Commanding. Looming. Hot…and hard. I felt his breath on my face again as he yanked me close. The press of his wool pants against my legs. The metallic scrape of his cufflinks on the wood of his desk as he shoved everything away to make room for our bodies. Then the wild throb of my heart as he tangled his hands in my hair, lifted my face toward his, and…
Yes.
The memory was so vivid, so good. I used the flat of my palm on my face now, thinking I could save the magic if I covered it. Protecting it from the outside world. Our perfect, shared moment in the middle of all this chaos.
Whoa.
“Get a grip.” I dropped my hand along with the furious whisper. It was one kiss. Incredible, yes, but I guaranteed he wasn’t still thinking about it like this. Behind that majestic door, Killian Stone moved again in his world, already focused on the next of his hundred priorities, none of them bearing my name. And he expected me to get back to mine, cushioning his company from that big, bad outside world I’d just been brooding over. You’ve been hired to help clean up the Stone family’s mess, not add to it.
The elevator finally dinged.
At the same time, Killian’s condo door opened behind me.
I locked a smile on my face, trying to look like I had been patiently waiting for the elevator the entire time.
“Miss Montgomery?”
Not Killian. I didn’t know whether to curse or laugh.
“Yes?” I managed a Girl Scout-sweet reply.
A kind face was waiting when I turned around. The man wore such a warm expression I was tempted to call him Fred. Not Alfred. Just Fred. The man was too handsome for a full Alfred.
Fred handed me a small ivory envelope and then stepped over into the elevator. He held the doors open while I got into the car with him. We rode in silence down to the lobby. I squirmed while Fred smiled as if it were Saturday in the park. Did he know what his boss had just done with me?
I winced toward the wall. Technically, Killian was
my boss right now too.
Mr. Stone. Mr. Stone. Mr. Stone.
He can never be “Killian” again.
The sooner you remember that, the better.
I was dying to open that little envelope but carefully slipped it into my queen-size clutch for when I was alone again in the cab on my way back to the hotel.
“I’ll call the car round for you.” Like his employer, Fred made it obvious the subject wasn’t up for debate, so I forced a smile and followed him across the gleaming lobby to the building’s front awning. In less than a minute, the black town car with the Stone Global logo on its doors appeared. I climbed in, all the while yearning for the anonymity of a city cab instead.
Chicago was a great city, but the traffic was insane, even as evening officially blended into nighttime. Nevertheless, Killian’s building was swiftly swallowed by the lush trees of the neighborhood. I was on my way back to the hotel. Back to real life—and all the dangers that waited if anyone on the team ever learned where I’d just been.
For just a few more seconds, I yearned to remember the fantasy instead. Perhaps the treasure in my purse would help.
I pulled it out, running reverent fingers over it again. Nothing was written on the outside. Killian—Mr. Stone—had simply expected it would be delivered straight to me.
The elegant handwriting inside, dedicated to just one sentence, dried out my throat upon impact.
I must see you again.
Continue Reading No Prince Charming…
Also by Danielle Rose
Pieces of Me Duet:
Lies We Keep
Truth We Bear
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Truth We Bear Page 13
