by Cora Kenborn
Julian opened his mouth, but fearing an impending breakdown, I tore out of his hold and ran toward the side door behind him. Everything blurred as my pace quickened. My hand twisted the knob and flung it open. A strangled sob tore from my throat as a cool breeze of night air smacked me in the face.
Stepping out onto the fire escape, I walked to the edge and gripped the iron railing. The wind swirled my tangled hair around my shoulders, and I shivered as I closed my eyes and leaned forward. The peace lasted only moments as synchronized car horns and heated insults from below brought me back to reality. I opened my eyes and took in the streets of New York from eighteen stories above Manhattan. Everything seemed so small from this height. Reality ceased to exist in this little solitary side world nestled in the heart of the American Dream.
Dreams of silly little girls who knew nothing of the world—of what horrors those dreams could hide. Dreams haunted you and robbed you of peace, normalcy, and security.
Love.
The pounding in my chest sped up and my vision blurred as I bent closer. The motion softened my elbows as my heels suspended above the concrete. The city took on an eerily peaceful quality from my perpendicular position on the railing. The rush of taxis and lights directly below the world made me feel as if I were floating.
I heard nothing. I only felt the swoosh of suctioned air and the rush of coolness as it feathered across the scandalous dip of my backless gown. I knew he was there. I sensed his presence.
“Phoebe?” I heard trepidation in his voice. He stood behind me, but didn’t move. Without turning around, I felt him calculating his actions, frantically thinking four steps ahead of what he saw.
He really knows nothing about me.
Realization hit me. Julian Bale and I were a fantasy, a connection based on nothing but physical attraction and intrigue. I didn’t even bother moving my position, keeping my eyes trained on the street below.
“Relax, Julian. I’m not going to off myself, if that’s what you think.”
“I never said you were.” His voice grew stronger as he moved closer.
“You didn’t have to.” I sighed. “Julian, we’re poison. We’re going to hurt each other. The question is, how bad and how permanently?”
He moved again. “You haven’t even given us a chance to begin.”
I tightened my hold on the railing as the scent of spice and sex floated by me. Involuntarily, my body gravitated backward, seeking his warmth. Slightly turning my cheek, I caught the faint smell of tequila on his breath.
“Have you been drinking?”
“Can’t you feel how right this is, Phoebe?” he said, blatantly ignoring my question. “I knew the minute I saw you, I wanted you. You felt it too. Don’t lie to me.”
My resolve weakened by the minute. “Don’t say things like—”
“Like what?” His tone hardened. “Like how you feel in my arms? How you come undone when I kiss you?”
“Don’t…” I begged. Vulnerability began creeping into my soul from his relentless pushing. I’d banished weakness from my life a long time ago.
“Too much for you, princess? Well, too fucking bad. I haven’t been able to think about anything else but you in my bed.”
“I’m not one of your groupies, Julian!” I yelled as I shifted away from him again, teetering over the railing. “I don’t give a shit who you are, I don’t belong to you.”
“You can’t walk away any more than I can.” He commanded me with a dead calm.
“I’m not fighting about this anymore.” Glancing down, I watched my fingers turn white from gripping the metal railing. “I can’t afford to lose my job, so I’ll write your autobiography. I’ll do a fantastic job, because for better or worse, I need MetroGroup in my good graces. But if you won’t let me help you to stop a crazy fan from ruining your life—and trust me when I say she will ruin it—I can’t be a part of your fucked-up world of stalkers.”
“You don’t know what you’re saying.” His voice betrayed emotion he no longer could hide.
“I can’t fall off the wall and put myself back together again, Julian.” My voice cracked.
“Don’t try to hide behind excuses.” He blew out a harsh breath.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
He crooked a finger and ran it down the length of my exposed spine. “You play games with me for weeks. You’re some fortress, then when your back’s against the wall, you hit me with some sex ultimatum.”
The breeze picked up and I leaned into it. “You’ll never understand.”
“Step away from the ledge, Phoebe.”
“I told you I’m not gonna off myself.” I snorted despite the serious nature of my words. “If that were the case, I would’ve done it a long time ago.” Hands roughly grabbed my waist and jerked me away from the ledge. I squealed as he pulled my back against his front, sealing me in a tight embrace.
A familiar heat rushed through me as he hissed in my ear. “I’ve waited an entire fucking year to feel alive again—like there was something other than worthless shit inside me. You’re not taking that away from me.”
“Julian…” My words trailed off as he sharply grabbed my hand and stalked forward. Random conversations continued around us as he kicked the door open with forceful intent. Within a few steps he’d cleared the room, dragging me behind him. He stopped before reaching the elevators, and pushed me backward two, three, four steps.
“Now’s your chance to run, princess.” His hooded eyes glinted, and his footsteps edged my retreat until I was flush against the elevator. I was literally backed into a corner. He placed both arms on either side of my head, blocking me in. Every second dragged as we stared into each other’s eyes.
“I don’t think—”
The rest was lost as he claimed me with a kiss, igniting everything south of my stomach. With a feral groan, he pushed me against the wall, and I couldn’t think, I couldn’t breathe, all I could do was react. Barely allowing me a breath in between kisses, the roughness of his assault threatened to buckle my knees.
Julian’s primal passion erased my remaining resistance, and I gave in to his demands. Never taking his eyes off of me, he reached around to hit the elevator button. The minute the doors opened, he backed me against the far wall, devastating me with another mind-blowing kiss.
A ding signaled our arrival, and he pulled me toward a hotel door. A key swipe granted him access, and his eyes locked with mine, telling me exactly what was about to happen. I was powerless to stop it. Even more so, I didn’t want to.
Julian crushed my back against the open door. He made no move to kiss me, roaming his eyes hungrily down my body. Without a word, he hooked his fingers in the top of my gown, and with one strong pull, it pooled at my waist. One of his hands secured behind my head, the other scooped me tightly under my ass and he lifted me in his arms, kicking the door shut.
With thoughts all over the place, one thing stood out clear. I wasn’t leaving this room having only a professional relationship with Julian Bale.
Chapter Nineteen
Julian
Shocked she hadn’t slapped me, I whispered her name and released her. She slid down my body and stood by the bed, stunned. I wanted to be sure I wasn’t hallucinating.
Rejection written on her face, she pulled her hands from behind my neck. Covering herself, she shifted away, apologizing profusely. “I’m sorry…I mean, I thought—”
I fused my mouth against her, bruising her lips in a punishing kiss. My hands moved around her face, manipulating it to fit my needs. I kissed her with desperate, maddening strokes.
“Julian…” She broke away for air.
“Fuck, Phoebe. I want you, now.” I didn’t wait for an answer before I was on her again. Open-mouthed kisses moved down her neck, hot and urgent, as my hands tightened momentarily at her waist and then traveled a path up her ribcage until they rested outside her soft breasts. Screw breathing, I was panting. I wanted more of her.
Eyes cl
osed and head thrown back, she waited. Once I gave in, it would be the point of no return. I had to be sure.
“Phoebe, look at me.”
Lifting her head, she focused her crystal blue eyes on me, glittering with dark desire. My hands twitched with restraint. I had to hear it directly from her before we crossed the line.
I pulled her close against me and growled against her lips. “Say you want me.” My rough breathing fluttered the hair around her face. If I wasn’t inside her soon, I’d combust.
Her eyes barely opened. “I want you, Julian.”
I groaned deep. Picking her up, I dropped her onto the bed and crawled beside her. Crushing her lips again, I kneaded the bare flesh of her breasts. Breaking the kiss, she whispered my name as she sat up and straddled me, throwing my desire into overdrive. With one move she blew the fuck out of any restraint I had left as she sucked on my bottom lip, grazing it between her teeth.
The rational side of me knew I should put the brakes on and wait until we were both sober to take her. But I wasn’t a rational man. And I wasn’t waiting for shit. I pressed my lips to the underside of her collarbone, and the tortured moan she let out dropped my self-control from barely there to nonexistent. I had to have more. The need was too strong.
“Christ, you’re beautiful,” I murmured, kissing my way down her chest.
I lost my mind the moment I rolled my tongue over her nipple. Her skin tasted like honey and felt like silk. She moaned, and the combination of touch and sound almost finished me. Trailing my mouth across her chest, I lavished attention on the other.
The pressure against my zipper was unbearable. Before I had a chance to contemplate my next move, Phoebe raked her hands down my chest, stopping at the buttons on my shirt. I watched the moment play out in her hungry eyes. She licked her lips again, bunched my shirt in her hands, and pulled, sending buttons flying. I couldn’t shrug it off fast enough.
That’s it. She’s mine.
Her eyes were raw as she slipped her hand between our bodies and cupped my cock from the outside. I grunted as she slowly stroked me out of my mind. “Princess—”
“Shut up and fuck me, Julian.”
Play time was over. Twisting the bottom of her dress in my hands, I jerked it up over her hips. I pulled her to my waiting mouth while the other hand caressed her through the lacey black thong. I couldn’t hide my smile. Her mouth may lie about how she felt, but her body couldn’t. She was fucking drenched through the thin scrap of material, and when I pushed under it, she gasped and arched sharply.
Acting on complete desire, our kisses hardened, the intensity bordering on insanity. Between the shots of tequila from earlier and her soft noises, my blood pressure rose to a fever pitch. The electrical shocks at the base of my spine were a warning. I wasn’t going to last.
Phoebe broke our kiss, the blue sea of her eyes drowning me. “What are you waiting for?”
“Not a fucking thing,” I said with a growl. Removing my hand, I hooked it through the flimsy string resting on her hip and yanked impatiently, the rip of elastic unmistakable.
Chapter Twenty
Phoebe
Julian’s lips lifted in a cocky half grin and his eyes held me prisoner as his hand dipped between my legs again. “Jesus, you’re ready.”
Baring my soul and then my body had sparked a fire that raged out of control. I’d wanted him since he’d first kissed me at the bar and there was no turning back now. My eyes closed and I gave myself over to the feeling, panting as he increased pressure and depth. Even with my eyes shut, the lights began to dance in a swirl of colors and white heat surged in my stomach.
“Oh god, Julian…”
His voice cut through the fog. “Come for me, princess.”
As if he were its master, my body obeyed, and I screamed his name. Encouraged by my gasps, he mercilessly pushed me through the aftershocks. When I could form a coherent sentence, I lifted my head and locked gazes with him. He wore the look of a man who knew he’d rocked me to my core.
“That was one.”
“One?” I could barely form words.
“Of the many times you’ll come tonight.”
Hungry kisses invaded my mouth, my neck, and my hair. They alternated locations as if he had an insatiable need to sample every part. Grabbing the back of his head, I kissed him deeply. Julian’s jaw tightened as he grabbed my rocking hips with just enough force to still my movements. I needed to let him know how much I wanted him, without reservation.
I focused on his pants and was shocked to see my hands weren’t shaking. Emboldened, I trailed my fingers down and a sharp puff of air escaped from his lungs as I released the button. There was no hesitation before the zipper followed, and I dove my hand inside.
A guttural sound emitted from his throat as I caressed his length. “Phoebe…”
Bending to kiss his chest, I trailed my tongue over the outline of the eagle tattoo on his ribcage. Under the pressure of my mouth, his heart raced, and it spurred me on. Tilting my head, I feathered small licks along his jawline.
Lifting a hand, he wound it around my hair, pulling my head back. “Enough!” he commanded with a growl. Keeping one hand in my hair, he worked his pants down his hips enough to free himself. I continued my lip assault as he groaned fragmented words between frantic kisses. “Shit…forgot…condom.”
I grunted, undeterred by the obstacle. “Covered and clean.”
“Same.” He deepened the kiss, and I widened my eyes while he positioned me with determined hands. Raising my hips, he impaled me in a simultaneous downward pull and upward thrust that forced my nails into his skin. We both gasped at the intensity of the impact.
“Oh fuck…” I couldn’t look at him—it was too much. He was too much, and I didn’t know if I could handle it.
“Jesus Christ…” He gave me a moment to adjust to his possession. “You okay?”
With my eyes closed tightly, I nodded, and he began shifting his hips, alternating between torturously slow and furiously punishing. As he held onto me, I could barely recall my own name. At that point the only names I could remember were his and God’s, repeated until my voice shattered.
The moment the tremors took me, I whimpered, and he pulled my hips forward, re-entering with powerfully swift strokes. I surrendered as another cry tumbled out, and I collapsed into him. Closing my eyes, I handed him everything.
“Look at me,” Julian hissed, his voice thick.
I couldn’t deny him. Opening my eyes, I took in his dampened hair and swollen lips. His half-lidded eyes sparked to life and he lowered a hand, stroking me furiously as with two powerful thrusts, he groaned hotly against my ear. I cried out again as my own explosion shook me for a third time.
“Fuck…Phoebe!” The final tremor left him and he let out a long, hard breath. Still heaving, he wrapped his arms around me in a protective hold. A layer of sweat covered us as we lay silent until he spoke. “Jesus. That was…”
I pressed my forehead against his chest and tried not to think about the colossal mistake we’d just made. “Yeah. That was.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“Princess…you’ve been a naughty little co-ed.”
A sharp pain sears through my head as hands grab the back of my hair and twist it, jerking me off of my knees and back to a standing position. He presses the knife against my abdomen, and I close my eyes.
I let out a scream as he jerks my hair back so hard I see circles. He buries his fist into my ribcage, causing me to slam sideways into the car. I fight to breathe and lean my cheek on the trunk for a reprieve. Taking full advantage, he grabs the back of my head and shoves my face into the metal, holding me down.
Gurgling sounds erupt before the vomit does, but in this position, I can’t get it out. It chokes me as it dribbles out of the corners of my mouth. He doesn’t have to kill me. I’m going to drown in my own puke. My chest burns as the liquid stagnates above my lungs. The stench of his breath on my neck repulses me as he trails the knif
e down the center of my back.
“If you don’t open those baby blues, princess, I’m gonna gut you like a fish.” Digging thick fingers into my eyes, he forces my eyelids open and turns my head to face him. “Then you can say hi to your mama—in hell.”
I freeze at the mention of her name. Memories cloud my head of the abuse she suffered at his hands—the same abuse I suffer. And I get pissed. The knife still pushes into my side and I bury my fear. I know without a doubt I’m not leaving this parking lot alive. It’s me or him. I choose me.
“Wanna hear another bedtime story, princess?”
I try to steady my voice. “Go to hell.”
I take advantage of his off-kilter stance and move to knee his crotch. But in this awkward position, I can’t get my knee up enough to disable him. He grabs my hair and jerks me back. I feel the blade slice through my skin and pierce the layers of muscle underneath.
And again. And again. And again.
I’m holding still on an inward breath…waiting for numbness to take me, when I hear the last words before darkness falls.
“No matter where you run, I’ll always find you. Happy Halloween, princess.”
The tightness in my throat was the first thing to hit—as if I were underwater, fighting against a powerful current. It suffocated me and I contemplated sinking underneath the tide. Then my well-honed survival instinct kicked in, and I fought hard to climb to the surface. I could hear my own screams as rough hands pulled me back, yelling my name.
“Phoebe, stop! Phoebe, stop it!”
“Let me go!” I screamed, thrashing wildly.
“Phoebe, wake up! Wake the fuck up!”
Strong fingers dug into my skin. A huge weight pressed on top of me.
“Stop screaming, baby, and wake up!” a familiar voice called to me.
Light flooded in and I blinked repeatedly. As the darkness faded, everything else came into focus…pillows, sheets. Panic surged and I bolted up, colliding with strong hands that held me down.
