Rock Me

by Phillips, Carly

  He might think he wanted to keep his distance, but his body was demanding they get close, his mouth gliding back and forth over hers, razor stubble bristling her cheeks in a sweet burn, and his tongue delved deep. Against her stomach, she felt the hard press of his erection, causing desire to sweep over her in waves.

  No wonder she hadn’t found a guy she wanted to keep in her life. No one could live up to Ben.

  He kissed like he wanted to possess her.

  Own her.

  Keep her.

  “Summer! Summer, what happened?” Her agent’s voice penetrated the delicious fog that had enveloped her and Ben. She ignored her for a few more blissful seconds, taking in the feel of Ben’s lips, his tongue tangled with hers.

  “Summer!”

  “Anna!” She straightened and forced herself away from Ben and faced her agent. “I didn’t realize you’d be here.”

  “I wanted to support you! What happened?” she asked, concerned.

  “Yes, what happened?” Michael walked up beside her, joining their small group.

  Ben straightened his shoulders and took a step back, letting her focus on her professional life. But a glance at his steely gaze and her stomach churned uncomfortably at the cool look in his eyes, telling her in no uncertain terms that he regretted that lapse in his precious self-control.

  She frowned before turning to her agent, who she knew expected an explanation. “The earpiece went dead. I had no choice but to improvise.”

  A flash of distress crossed Anna’s face. “But you stepped up and did great! Everyone’s talking about how you pulled out a win. Congratulations.” Her agent touched her shoulder in support. “Isn’t she a star?” she said to Michael.

  He smiled back, but as he was pulling for Tawny, his gaze was rather cool. Speaking of Tawny, she glared at Summer from her corner of the backstage area. No great job would be forthcoming from her rival.

  “We are so sorry!” The producer of The Morning Show came rushing over to Summer. “I don’t know what happened. The equipment worked fine for Tawny but you were amazing. Social media is going crazy for your performance!” The woman smiled and rushed off to handle another crisis.

  “Summer, I’ll talk to you later,” Anna said and headed away as well.

  Summer turned to Ben, wanting to address the moment despite the fact that the adrenaline pressing at them had passed. He might regret what had happened between them, but she didn’t. Not at all.

  “Can we go?” he asked, all business.

  “Umm, sure.”

  He grasped her elbow in a professional hold and led her past the backstage crowds.

  Gone was the hot-blooded man in whose arms she’d lost herself for a few glorious seconds, and back was the cool, calm, unaffected bodyguard. He was right by her side, but the distance he placed between them might as well have been miles. If she thought she had broken through his reserve, she’d been sadly mistaken and was definitely disappointed.

  * * *

  Back at her apartment, Summer changed into a pair of leggings and an oversized tee shirt and kept herself busy while waiting for Ivy, who was coming over in a little while to hang out. She spent time on the phone with Anna arranging voice-over work with companies who had contacted her agent with interest, and puttered around the apartment, watering her plants and straightening up. She deliberately ignored the man sitting on the sofa making himself at home.

  If he’d acknowledged the kiss or discussed the intimate moment between them, then she’d be more willing to move forward like two adults. He had a job to do, to protect her, and she didn’t want to make it more difficult. But the fact that he was deliberately pretending like that kiss hadn’t happened pissed her off and hurt her feelings. She just hadn’t decided how to handle him yet.

  Instead of dealing with him, she headed for the kitchen, took out two glasses, and poured herself some wine, setting one aside for Ivy. She settled into a chair at the kitchen table, scrolling through her laptop, checking her various social media sites for mentions of today’s performance.

  A YouTube video had already gone viral, and a photo with contrasting shots of her panicked face when she realized the earpiece was dead and her triumphant hand pump at the end when she’d nailed her performance had hit the entertainment blogs. She’d been hailed a success, but all in all, it had been a long day.

  A knock sounded at the door, and she jumped up to let her friend in. Ben beat her to it, his big body blocking the entire entrance. “Who’s there?” he asked in a rough voice.

  “It’s my friend Ivy.” She tried moving him over, but he was like a brick wall.

  “Ivy Jameson,” a familiar female voice replied from the other side of the door.

  “You see?”

  Ben unlocked the door and opened it partway. “ID please.”

  “That’s ridiculous. I can vouch for her.” Summer grasped his forearm, shocked by the hard muscles she encountered and the jolt that went through her system at the innocent touch.

  He stiffened, obviously affected, too.

  She pulled her arm back and curled her fingers into a fist.

  Ivy slipped her license to Ben.

  He studied it and handed it back. “And you’re alone?” he asked.

  “Yes. One hundred percent I’m here by myself,” Ivy said.

  Ben put a hand on his weapon and waited as Ivy slipped inside. “Hi. Ivy Jameson. Best friend,” she said, extending her hand to Ben.

  “Ben Hollander. Bodyguard.” He shook her hand and glanced at her with the passing interest of a man doing his job and studying the newest visitor. Not that of a man captivated by the woman in front of him, which was curious because with her blonde hair, light brown eyes, and slender figure, Ivy turned most men’s heads.

  Ben stepped to the door and turned the deadbolt once more, locking them all inside before heading back to his position on the sofa in front of the TV.

  Ivy hooked her arm with Summer’s, and they walked toward the kitchen. “So that’s your hot ex?”

  One thing about Ivy was her overly loud personality. Even in this small setting, her voice carried, and Summer had no doubt Ben had heard over the sounds of the television.

  “Shh.” Summer’s cheeks heated, and to shut her friend up, she handed Ivy her glass. “Here. Take a drink.”

  “I’d love one. Tell me all about today! I saw you on TV. I was so worried, but you were amazing, singing without your band and getting the audience to eat out of your hand. I was cheering out loud.”

  Her words and tone held a pride Summer needed to hear from her friend. Someone close to her who understood how hard she’d worked for the opportunity she had and how important every appearance was toward her goal. She’d hoped to hear from her mother or father, even from far away they knew her schedule, but so far there’d been no word.

  She took a long sip of her wine, finishing the glass and pouring another.

  “Whoa. Let me catch up!” Ivy laughed and took a big drink of her own.

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” Summer said, pulling her friend into a hug. “Thank you for coming over.”

  “My best friend is on The Morning Show and kills it. Where else would I be but here to celebrate?” Ivy tapped her glass against Summer’s.

  For the next couple of hours, they talked and drank, and when the pizza Ben had ordered arrived, they shared that as well and drank some more.

  Ben maintained his seat on the couch, which continued to aggravate her, his aloof manner driving her to distraction. While she couldn’t get that kiss out of her mind, he seemed to have put it behind him, and easily at that.

  Pouting and tipsy, she leaned closer to Ivy, who had just finished regaling Summer with a story about her latest date, an online site disaster of a matchup.

  “I kissed Ben after the show today,” Summer whispered.

  Her friend started to reply, and Summer placed a hand over her mouth before Ivy could shout something Summer didn’t want Ben to hear. “He hasn’t mentio
ned it since,” she said just as softly.

  “He’s a tough one.” Ivy glanced over at Ben. “I think the fact that you’re both under one roof is going to make things escalate sooner rather than later.”

  “I hope so,” she said and poured another glass of wine for fortification.

  Chapter Four

  Ben told himself that the earlier kiss had been the result of Summer’s adrenaline rush and nothing more. He wasn’t sure he believed it, not given how quickly it had escalated, how good her lush body felt in his arms, and how hard he was for her even now, hours later. But he had no choice but to push forward and do his job, and that meant pretending the kiss had never happened. Which wasn’t easy when he was in Summer’s orbit, surrounded by her soft scent and the driving need he had to do more than just kiss her.

  The women were talking to each other in the small kitchen area. Despite having the television on, he’d just heard the story of Ivy and her last date, something he wished he could un-hear.

  “You’ll never guess who I ran into at Starbucks,” Ivy said, her voice louder with each successive glass of wine.

  “Who?”

  “Your ex, Ryan.”

  “Really? How does he look?” Summer asked.

  If he was an ex, why did Summer care how this Ryan guy looked? he thought with an irritable frown.

  “His hair grew and he has a beard. He looked good.”

  “Too bad he sucked in bed,” Summer said, ending that sentence on a giggle that had to be the result of too much wine.

  Jesus. The last vision he wanted was one of Summer naked and in bed with some guy named Ryan. Or any guy, for that matter, whether or not he was bad in the sack. Ben wished he had the luxury of drinking like the women were, but he didn’t indulge while on the job.

  “He did say to tell you he’d like to hear from you again.”

  Despite himself, Ben cocked his head their way, wanting to hear Summer’s reply.

  She shook her head at her friend’s suggestion. “No way. He’s way too uptight. He had to fold his clothes neatly before we ever made it to the bed. Who does that?”

  “Not a guy who can’t keep his hands off you, that’s for sure.”

  Ben curled his hands into tight fists. This conversation and the subject of Summer’s ex and how he was in bed was giving Ben fits. On the one hand, jealousy ate at him that she’d been with other men, not that he’d been celibate in the time since they were together last. And on the other hand, he was pissed at himself for caring what she’d been up to with other men when he was so determined to keep things between them professional.

  Ivy yawned. “I wish I could stay, but I have to meet with a new client in the morning and I’m exhausted.”

  “And tipsy,” Summer said. “I know I am. You’re taking an Uber home, right?”

  Ivy nodded. “Yep.” She took out her phone and arranged for her ride. “Three minutes away.” She slid her shoes back onto her feet and rose.

  “I appreciate you coming by. You know how much it means to me to know you care.” Summer stood and wobbled a bit, the room obviously spinning around her.

  A glance at the table told Ben they’d consumed two bottles between them.

  She pulled Ivy into a hug. “Thank you.”

  “I love you, Summer. You know that.”

  “Love you, too.”

  Ivy started for the door, then turned back to face Ben. “Bye, bodyguard!”

  “Get home safe,” he said, meeting her at the door so he could let her out and lock up behind her.

  He turned just as Summer tripped on her own feet, giggled, and righted herself. “Oops.”

  He rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t deny she was cute when drunk. “Come on, princess. Bedtime.” He strode around the sofa and grabbed her elbow, pulling her along toward the one room he’d been avoiding since taking this job.

  Her bedroom.

  The shades were drawn, a small lamp on the nightstand lighting up the room. A white ruffled bedspread with a black heart pillow in the center defined the décor, the furniture also white with black accents, a mix of soft femininity and statement pieces.

  “I’m tired.”

  “So let’s get you into bed.” He turned his back on her and pulled the comforter down over the mattress so she could climb between the cover and the sheets. When he looked back, she stood in her bra and panties.

  She was intoxicated, and it wasn’t appropriate, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away. From her pink-painted toes, up her toned calves and thighs, to the barely there triangle covering her sweet pussy, his gaze lingered before traveling, up and over her stomach and belly button with a small ring attached, to her full breasts, spilling over the lacy cups of her bra.

  “I’m ready,” she said, weaving as she walked over to where he stood.

  God was testing him, no doubt about it.

  “Get in,” he said through clenched teeth as he patted the mattress.

  “Make me,” she said in a flirty, teasing voice.

  He raised his eyebrows. Really? She was going to push him?

  He scooped her into his arms, and while inhaling her sweet scent that made him fucking harder than he already was, he deposited her onto the bed.

  She refused to unlink her arms from around his neck and pulled him down on top of her.

  She tucked her cheek against his and sighed. “You smell good,” she said, turning and pressing a kiss against his cheek.

  She smelled better, and his dick was hard as a rock because of it. He tried to lift himself up but she held on tight.

  “It’s no wonder no other guys lived up to you,” she murmured.

  Aww, fuck. She was going to kill him.

  He wanted nothing more than to rip those tiny panties off her and sink into her wet heat. Short of that, he’d settle for curling himself around her and breathing her in all night long. She threatened his sanity and his common sense. He had the scars from the last time he’d tangled with her and gotten burned. He’d seen the result when his father had gone back for one more chance and paid the price. All solid reasons for him to get the hell out of her bed.

  “Come on, princess. Let me up.” He pushed harder and levered himself away from her, breaking her hold on him at last.

  No sooner had he turned back than she curled into herself and fell asleep. Ignoring the catch in his chest at the sight of her so vulnerable, he pulled the blanket up and over her body, covering her and tucking her in for the night.

  Then he shut off the lamp and headed back to the couch for a cold, lonely night’s sleep.

  * * *

  Summer awoke to a dull throb inside her head, and it hurt to open her eyes. Her mouth tasted like cotton and she groaned. Too much wine. Her bladder felt full, and she pushed off the covers and realized she was wearing her bra and panties. She never slept in her underwear.

  And then she remembered Ben walking her into her room and demanding she get into bed.

  Make me, she’d said, taunting him. Teasing him.

  So he’d grabbed her and put her into bed, and she’d pulled him down on top of her. “Oh God.” She groaned and put her head in her hands.

  Well, it could have been worse. She could have stripped completely. It was the only bright side she could find to what had been a completely embarrassing incident.

  She changed into an oversized sleep shirt and headed for the bathroom, where she washed up and brushed her teeth. She pulled her hair into a messy bun and gathered her courage around her before heading into the other room to face Ben.

  He stood in the kitchen facing the counter, putting frozen waffles into the toaster oven. A pair of athletic pants rode low on his lean hips. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and even his back was muscular, tapering into his waistband.

  He must have sensed her because he turned. “Good morning.”

  “Morning.” She felt a heated blush rise to her cheeks. “Listen, about last night—”

  He waved, dismissing her words. “Don’t worry about it
. Want some waffles?”

  “Sure.” She glanced at the table, surprised to find orange juice already poured for them both. “Thank you.”

  “I figured you’d wake up hurting. This was the best I could do. I’m not much of a cook. Not even eggs.”

  “Waffles will be fine. I eat them all the time,” she said, touched by his desire to take care of her in some small way.

  When the timer went off, he served them both waffles. Maple syrup was on the table, and she realized she was starving. She cut into the waffles, and they ate in silence until they were both finished.

  He pushed his plate aside, propped his elbows on the table, and met her gaze. “You were right the other night. It’s time we talked.”

  She swallowed hard. “Okay.”

  “I should have taken your calls back then, but I was angry, and you were the best candidate to take that anger out on.”

  She blew out a long breath. “I don’t blame you, really. You lost your job. But things between us were … intense before they blew up, and when you didn’t take my calls or reply to my texts, that hurt.”

  Although they’d had a short period of time together, it had meant something to her. Given how they didn’t have much contact with the outside world during the show, and she’d managed to see him often, her time with Ben had been a whirlwind of intensity.

  He wrapped his hand around the glass in front of him. “I know. And I regret how I handled it and wish things had ended differently. But that time in my life taught me not to mix business with pleasure. I need to focus on my job, and that means however difficult it is for us to keep our hands to ourselves now, we have to do it.”

  His words closed any hope she might have been holding out for them to try again. She didn’t like it, because she’d been truthful last night when she’d said that no man since had lived up to him. And not just sexually. But she appreciated that he’d spoken to her about things, and she respected both Ben and his work enough to stick to the boundaries he put in place. Even if it did cause a bit of disappointment.

  “Don’t worry. I won’t throw myself at you again,” she said, raising her hand in a solemn promise.