by Aliyah Burke
His hands run up and down my back and I can tell he’s nervous.
“It’s okay, Jordan. Anything you tell me won’t change my feelings for you. These are the realest feelings I have ever felt before.” I feel the tears threatening to fall from the over-whelming love I have for this man. The type of love where you just want to hug him for the rest of fucking time and never let go.
“Kayla, it might and I want you to know everything before we take this farther. I need you to know everything.” he breathes out.
“Okay then. Show me your demons. I can handle it,” I tell him while looking into those gorgeous eyes.
“I murdered a guy, Kayla; in cold blood. I don’t regret one single moment of it. In all reality, I enjoyed it and I’d do it all over again if you asked me to.” His eyes die of the warmth I’ve grown to love as he lets these words fly out of his mouth.
Can I handle these demons?
The end for now…
More from Benson
Steele: A Stepbrother Romance
LOVE BETWEEN THE LINES
Callie Fletcher
Chapter One
Madelyn Sheffield gnawed on her pen top, trying to figure out if Logan’s penis should be referred to as “his throbbing manhood” or “his manly saber”.
“Tabitha is more of a ‘manhood’ girl, I think…” she muttered, typing in the words to de-virginize her latest ingénue.
Maddie was recognized as a well-known author, but her recent foray into romance writing had jettisoned her writing career to the moon. When she was writing, she wore thick black librarian frames and often talked to herself. Quiet yet strong by nature, she proved the classic “still waters ran deep” -- especially if her newest romance fans had anything to say about her steamy sex scenes.
Strains of Destiny’s Child’s “Independent Women” interrupted her thoughts.
Crap. She forgot to turn off the ringer again. It was her mother’s ringtone. She sighed into the phone. “Hello Agatha.”
“Madelyn Elizabeth Sheffield … don’t you dare sass me with an attitude,” the authoritative voice honked at her. “And no addressing me by anything other than Mother.”
“Hello, Mother,” she parroted, and rubbed her eyes in frustration. With a mother who was her book agent and default business manager, life continued to be complex for Maddie.
“Better.” Agatha’s tone softened from her parental mode. “How’s the project? Did you finish chapter seven today?” Her mother never referred to Maddie’s writing as her book or novel. was some kind of reassurance for Agatha to believe her books weren’t the cornerstone of her livelihood.
“It was going just fine…” Until you called and messed up my groove.
Reassured, Agatha went into her normal rapid pace. “Did you check your Facebook page? Or the website comments like I asked you to? Your readers are really riled up about that short story cover of the Aquabots series. They are quite annoyed that Beau has a shirt on, claiming that he’s never been one to wear a shirt, and wondering why start now? I know we should love your fans, sweetie -- they do buy the books after all -- but why this ridiculous need to be so critical of their favorite author?”
Maddie jumped in when her mother took a breath. “Mom. Mother. It’s okay. I’m okay if they get upset; it just means they’re into the series. I love that they love the characters and the books, and I love that they help me pay my mortgage.”
“Well of course, but the bigger point is, you haven’t responded, Madelyn. They want to hear from you.” No breath, she continued, “Have you heard from him?”
Maddie hated admitting how a series of recent creepy emails had given her concern. It was just a somewhat obsessed fan, right? That happened… didn’t it? “I haven’t checked email today yet,” she lied. “I’m really trying to not worry about it, Mother. My guess is it happens to a lot of us authors -- obsessed fans and how they get so caught up in characters and stories.”
“Well, I don’t care who it happens to other than you. I think we need some help with this. Someone to monitor this email, keep track of this guy -- and honey, I’d feel better if there was someone to watch over you,” Agatha insisted.
“Oh Mom, come on. Really. Not necessary.”
“Yes, it is, Maddie. I can’t allow you to take your safety or your career for granted. Plus, since you’ve blown up with the romance books, you need help with all the fan mail and social media. You need an assistant.” Agatha didn’t pause. “You must have an assistant. I know why you don’t want to dig into your email, honey. You want to avoid that weirdo, but you have other messages that should be addressed. We can’t let a few overzealous fans set you on edge, stop your productivity, or even frighten your subconscious. It’ll scare your muse away.”
Maddie let out a defeated sigh, glancing at the semi-naked picture of her Channing Tatum muse pinned above her computer. She hated it when Agatha was right.
But her mother wasn’t done. “That’s why I hired you an assistant.”
Maddie started but Agatha barreled on. “No, no, don’t argue, Madelyn, this is something you need. You have received so much attention for being a wonderful writer. The paperwork alone keeps you from being who you need to be: an author.” Agatha slowed, gentled her tone, “Honey, you’re doing so well. I’m so proud of you. Let’s get someone else to help, ok? That way you don’t have to procrastinate on paying the bills, on answering emails, or even on posting to social media. For now, just allow yourself to write.” She paused a few beats while Maddie marinated over the suggestion.
Maddie looked down at her coral-tipped toenails, digging them into her plush tan carpet. One conversation; already two points for Agatha. Biting at her lower lip, she silently conceded.
Silence equaled acceptance to her mother. Agatha said, “So, the assistant comes tomorrow morning.” Maddie sucked in a breath to protest. “You won’t have to do much to get them started; just show them the basics, give them passwords, all that stuff. I’ve been assured that they’ll know what to do to get going.”
Maddie stared out the window in front of her, hoping this would be easy as Agatha made it sound.
--
Agatha Sheffield’s racy red manicured index finger touched the “end call” button on her phone. She blew out a big breath.
Her Madelyn was as stubborn as they came. Just like her father. She shook her head, chagrined as her heart stopped thinking about her dear departed Edward. Gawd, I miss him! He had been so proud of their daughter. She shook her head of memories to get the rest of her plan in motion before running to lunch with Dottie and Gloria. She pushed a few more buttons on the cell.
“Hello?” A distinct masculine voice answered.
“Raymond dear,” she purred, a smile in her voice. “I believe we are in motion.”
“Agatha. Yes, wonderful.”
“Is Sam ready for this? You gave him all the background?” She paced to the window, her white linen palazzo pants swirling around her ankles, sandals gently slapping the wooden floor.
“Absolutely. He knows the situation and what we need him to do. He’ll keep an eye on her while acting as her assistant. He’ll keep her safe. He’s doing this as a favor to me. Don’t worry about the cost, ok, sweetheart? He’ll be there in the morning.”
Ray was an old friend, from way back in her New York days. His British accent, long forgotten, occasionally peeked through during their conversations. Agatha always suspected Raymond had a bit of a crush on her, though he never acted upon it. Well, never say never, she mused.
“Perfect.” She swung back to her desk. “I’ll owe you one for sure, Raymond.” She winked into the phone, knowing he couldn’t see her.
“You only owe me the pleasure of your company, the promise of dinner, dear Aggie..” She heard the grin in his voice.
“But of course, dear. Of course.” Never may be ending sooner than she expected.
Chapter Two
Sam parked the Charger a few doors away from the address Uncle
Ray had texted him. He made his way to meet his new “boss.” Madelyn Sheffield was a successful novelist who’d recently found even greater success as a romance writer.
Sam had spent the last two days in his office at Reynolds Operations, his family’s private intelligence agency, researching his new unsuspecting client. Between what he’d read hacking into her accounts and what his Uncle Ray told him, by way of her agent/mother, he’d learned a lot.
Though data extraction had been his area of expertise in the military special forces, he didn’t have to go beyond the basics to find even the most intimate things out about Madelyn. In fact, that was the first thing he was going to do as her assistant: put more privacy and security on her computer systems and social media.
Regardless of her appalling lack of computer security, her eyes arrested him from the back of her book jackets. They reflected a caramel-faced, doe-eyed woman, whose innocence shined through like a Margaret Keane painting.
He pushed the doorbell. And waited.
And waited.
He leaned on the doorbell. And waited.
He heard clunking and then some cussing before the door yanked open.
Before him stood a half-awake Madelyn Sheffield, in a worn Woman Woman t-shirt and frayed running shorts, her hair tied up in a scarf, and one eye open. The one eye blinked slowly at him.
“Yes?” a jagged voice greeted him.
“Madelyn Sheffield? I’m Sam. Sam Reynolds. I’m your new assistant.”
--
She’d forgotten her glasses, so when she allowed her one open eye to focus on her sleep’s intruder, she wasn’t sure she wasn’t still dreaming. She looked down.
Huge feet. Long legs. Narrow waist. Chest. Wait. Back down. Mmmm… seemed to fill the package area. Hold up…back down to the feet to double check…yup, huge. Okay, wide shoulders. Arms. Square jaw. Ohhh, perfect kissable lips, the lower one begging to be nibbled…Roman style nose that took a hit at some point. Added character for sure.
And emerald eyes. Lort gawd.
She peeled open her other eye to take in what reflected an Irish countryside in twin pools.
“You done?” Those perfect lips slid sardonically upward.
Dang. Being half awake made her forget herself.
“Wait. Did you say ‘my assistant’?” Maddie’s forehead wrinkled as she continued to awakened, much more quickly now.
“Yes, Ms. Sheffield. May I call you, Madelyn? “
“Maddie, please. Umm, come on in.” She gestured, backing up, opening the door.
He stepped in, closing the door behind him. They stood awkwardly looking at one another. “Please lead the way,” he beamed, breaking the tension.
---
Her tremulous smile reflected her newly awakened state and, he supposed, her surprise at having a male assistant. Clearly her mother… agent… no mother, hadn’t told her completely what to expect.
Her sleepy obliviousness and informal sleeping attire allowed Sam to give her a thorough once over. As she escorted him through the townhouse, he couldn’t help but keep his eyes glued to her rear end. This must be what the kids called “bootylicious.” She wasn’t at all aware of how small the running shorts were or how they were riding up, allowing him to drink his fill. He toured down her smooth thighs to defined calves, and shot right back to that butt. Whew.
She abruptly stopped, turning around, and he barely stopped himself from running into her, since his eyes and attention were elsewhere.
“Umm, I’m sorry, my manners. Would you like a cup of coffee?” They’d hit the kitchen. She walked to a Keurig™ and popped in a coffee pod after rising on her tiptoes to grab two mugs from an overhead cabinet. Maddie’s huge brown eyes stopped him when she asked, “Do you take cream, sugar?”
“I’m good with black.”
When she tossed the refrigerator, door closed, he couldn’t help but see breasts shake with her arm motion. Maddie caught him looking, an annoyed twist of her lips. She crossed her arms over her chest. He looked up to her eyes, feeling like a boy caught red handed. Dang those large nipples were all there beneath that t-shirt. He cleared his head with a slight shake. He had business to do, not tail to follow.
“Make yourself at home. Your desk is through there, in the family room. I’m going upstairs to change; I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
He ducked out and headed to his desk.
His Uncle Ray had said that her mother wanted to keep this surveillance and protection duty confidential. While Maddie was doing her morning toilette, Sam planted the bug in her house phone. He also had a tracker for her purse and car that he needed to covertly install.
By quick assessment, the townhouse appeared to be three levels of living space. The family room faced out to the street, with his desk in front of the window. Ideal for him to survey any curious strangers, vehicles or activities. He booted up the laptop on the desk, checking out all the documents on the desktop first, then quickly hacking into the background system and connecting it to Reynolds Operations for ongoing covert surveillance.
“So getting all familiar with everything.”
Coconut and vanilla wafted into his space as her heard her calm resolute words.
“Yup. It’s a pretty simple set-up but I think we can automate a few things and make it more efficient for you and your followers, at least for social media.” Sam avoided considering those chocolate eyes. “I can get started with the email this morning.”
“Sounds great. My office is upstairs, across from my bedroom.”
Sam willed his mind not even begin to wonder what that room looked like.
Chapter Three
Sam and Maddie fell into an easy routine over the next few weeks. She spent most of the late morning and afternoon writing. He delivered her food and brought her important items to review during lunch. And just before he left for the day, they discussed items he’d flagged for her to answer personally in email and social media.
But Sam decided the routine needed to change.
First, he needed to get Maddie out and walking; he figured it would help her clear her mind to write. She’d had more than a few bouts of writer’s block. Second, less coffee, more water and healthy smoothies. Third, her awful lunches had to go.
He’d ascended into her Tower of Creativity (as he secretly dubbed it), quieting his boot steps up the stairs and across the room to her desk.
Maddie didn’t move her head or lift her eyes from her screen.
Finally, “Thanks….” she trailed distractedly. “Just put it by my red journal over there.”
He sat the plate, napkins, utensils, and the usual stack of papers down, and began a stealthy escape.
“Hold up.” she arrested.
Damn! He halted at the doorway.
“What is that green stuff? And what’s with the fruit?” She craned her head around to him, fingers frozen over the keyboard.
Sam had a method to this madness. He needed to get her off the awful food she craved for lunch. In Maddie World, everything from a huge bag of chips to pizza and ice cream to take-out from the sandwich shop was fair game as a meal.
“A kale salad, some roast chicken, fresh sliced tomatoes with some olive oil and baby mozzarella, and some blueberries.”
A blank stare.
He look back at her, matching her stare.
“I have a drawer full of restaurant take-out menus for you to order from. You don’t need to cook lunch for me,” she needlessly pointed out to Sam.
He swallowed his annoyance. “It was really no trouble,” he oversmiled at her. “I threw together the salad. The berries are from a pack. The tomato is from my container garden. And the chicken is from the grocery deli department.”
A blank stare.
Maddied cleared her throat. “There is a drawer full of menus for you to order my lunch from on any given day. Most of the places even. deliver. here.” She enunciated through gritted teeth, “You do not need to prepare my lunch for me.” Sam gave her a brief curt
nod, and pivoted for the hall.
Maddie shook her head, turning back to her screen, but not before she eased the plate away with a single finger of distaste.
Sam took a step and halted, knowing she needed to adopt healthier habits… and because it was burning his ass that she’d dismissed him and his efforts.
“Just one second. “He turned and marched back over to Maddie, his footsteps loud and deliberate.
Her eyes slide from the screen as Sam leaned his very fine muscular ass on the edge of her re-vamped mid-century kelly green metal tanker desk. She just took in that view for a few seconds before her eyes lifted to acknowledge him. Maddie’s right eyebrow elevated as her hands remained poised over the keyboard.
“I will be preparing your lunch, Madelyn.” He got louder, emphatic. “Why? Because you eat for shit, and I can’t stand to see an intelligent adult knowingly eat the trash you put into yourself.” Sam crossed his arms, ready to do battle.
Maddie’s eyes were glowing, as she glared at him. Damn why did he have such beautiful lips?
“I am serious,” he continued. “I know for a fact that you’d write more if you ate better and drank more water. And exercise …” he forced a sardonic laugh, “well, I won’t even bother bringing that up.”
Maddie’s eyes flew from his lips to meet his eyes. Her mouth fixed itself to hurl her insult. “You sonofabitch. Are you saying I’m fat? I can’t believe you’re sitting here insulting me.” She pushed her chair away from the desk to stand and confront him mano a mano. “You. YOU are my employee. You have no right to tell me anything about my habits or ‘suggest’...” she put her fingers up to mock quotes, “how I should eat. And furthermore…” Maddie quieted in confusion as Sam leaned back, arms crossed, grinning at her.
“What the hell are you grinning about?” she screeched, hands on hips, eyes blazing.
Sam loved her fire especially when her eyes said more than her mouth. His gaze fell to her full luscious lips. That mouth. He stood and hooked his hand around her neck and pulled her quickly to him, unable to help himself, desperate for a taste of her.
