“Killian…?”
His answer was to push up and band her middle with both arms. In that position, she was drawn into his lap, her legs circled his waist and her own arms went around his shoulders. But it was the depth of his cock and the angle … Christ the fucking angle. Every thrust and pull dragged his shaft along the tight nub holding her together. It pushed her each time a little closer until she was nothing more than a mindless bundle of nerves straining for release. She couldn’t think or speak except to pant his name and beg him not to stop.
She had a vague recollection of her bra being snapped open and her breasts freed to his hand. She hurriedly tossed the article of clothing aside as the nipples were stroked by clever fingers. Then pinched and rolled and just when she wasn’t sure she could take anymore, he was sucking and nipping and with a harsh cry, Juliette came. Her head fell back as her whole body shuddered and rolled over his. Her nails tore skin off his back, but he didn’t seem to notice, too preoccupied by the tongue he was tracing around each nipple.
She came down slowly from her high. His arms were still there, holding her close, holding her together. His mouth moved up to her neck and he nipped lightly at her pulse.
Lax and incredibly sated, Juliette clasped him to her and let him work out his own release. Every so often, she’d move her hips against his, enjoying the sensitivity of her own body. Killian didn’t seem to mind. He didn’t seem to be in any hurry either. He let his hands and mouth move over every inch of her that he could touch and she loved that too. His hands were magical. Every caress had her skin tingling and her insides fluttering. She honestly never wanted him to stop. But he came with a grunt that he stamped into the slope of her shoulder. Blunt fingers dug into her shoulder blades as he panted into her skin. His cock jerked uncontrollably a few times before falling still. Against her chest, his rose and fell rapidly. His hot breath fanned across the curve of her neck.
Juliette grinned into the warm flesh of his shoulder. “I think this is my favorite position.”
His shoulders jerked in a silent chuckle. “Don’t say that until we’ve tried them all.”
A warm thrill raced through her at the thought of trying all manner of positions with him.
“Definitely top five then,” she amended, drawing back to peer into his face. “Was it good for you?”
One dark eyebrow lifted in dry amusement. “Are you asking if it was top five for me?”
“Do you have a top five?”
“In general or with us?”
She had to think about that a moment. It was an interesting question and she had to really debate whether or not she wanted to know his favorite position with other women.
“In general,” she decided, curious to know what he liked.
His answer was the feather light rake of his fingers down her back from shoulder to ass where they curled, lifted her hips and pulled her more firmly down over the hard length of him still buried inside her.
“I would rather show you.”
Juliette’s eyes widened. “Is that … are you…?”
“Aye, it is.” The corner of his mouth lifted. “Doesn’t seem to want to go down when you’re around.”
A molten, hot shiver sliced through her. It poured over the embers left behind from only moments ago, igniting the flames to new heights. Her walls rippled around him, bathing him in a fresh wave of arousal. Her breathing quickened.
“I … I guess we should do something about that,” she decided.
Something dark flickered across his features that had her insides quivering.
“Oh, I insist.”
It was well after two in the morning when Juliette slipped out from beneath Killian’s slumbering embrace and crept across the room. Her limbs were still jittering from the earth shattering climax she’d experienced only minutes earlier, but she moved quickly gathering her things and getting dressed. Killian had passed out the moment he’d rolled off her. He’d hooked an arm around her middle just long enough to tuck her into the curve of his body, but it had taken no time at all before his slow, even breaths were burning into the back of her neck. She’d waited just long enough to be sure he wouldn’t wake up before untangling herself and sneaking out of the room.
It was in the contract, she told the guilt ridden voice when it whined about just leaving without a note. It had stated very clearly she wasn’t to spend the night. But it was more than that. She had to wake up early for her new position and she still needed to toss her new clothes into the washer. Plus … God help her, but spending the night with him scared the shit out of her. It was an intimacy she wasn’t sure she’d be able to walk away from in twelve months. It was just easier for all if she followed the rules.
At the bottom of the stairs, standing on either side of the front doors, Tyson and John straightened to attention. They squared their shoulders and watched her solemnly as she approached.
“Ma’am,” Tyson said, inclining his head.
Painfully aware of how bedraggled and rumpled she looked, Juliette fidgeted anxiously. “Shouldn’t you two be sleeping?”
“No ma’am,” John said curtly.
“We have been assigned to stay with you,” Tyson added, taking the bags from her.
Juliette’s eyes widened. “Stay with me? Like … everywhere?”
“Yes ma’am,” they said on unison.
She started to protest, but stopped herself. It was what she’d agreed to, after all. It was in the contract, Killian doing all that was in his power to protect her.
“Fine,” she muttered, trudging past them towards the door John quickly yanked open.
They took the same SUV as earlier. It hadn’t been put away, she noticed. But sat gleaming under the night sky and the lights that never seemed to turn off around the property. Next to it, the fountain of Killian’s mom sat bubbling quietly, filling the stillness with a sort of calm. Juliette paused to stare up into the other woman’s ivory face and thought of what Killian had told her about how his mother had died. It must have killed Killian and his father to see the statue every day, standing like a reminder of how they’d lost someone so important. But maybe it also helped ease the pain. There was a picture of her own mother, before the cancer had taken her health and youth and ultimately her life, on the mantel in the living room that Juliette used to stare at all the time after her mom had passed. Maybe it was the same thing.
“Ma’am?” John was holding the car door open for her.
With a last glance at the fountain, Juliette ducked into the backseat of the SUV and let herself be propelled home.
“Are you stupid?” Blue eyes blazing with contempt, Celina snatched the pen from Juliette’s hand. “The year goes first. Then the month. Then the day.”
It was a task not to snatch the pen back and jab it right in the other woman’s eye. It would have certainly made Juliette feel better after being bullied, threatened, belittled, and yelled at for most of the morning and afternoon.
From the moment Juliette had walked into the hotel lobby, Celina had been on her case over just about everything from Juliette’s selection of clothing to the fact that Juliette had even gotten the job, which was Celina’s favorite topic to shout about when no one was around to hear it.
“Does it really matter which goes first?” Juliette demanded. “The form doesn’t even specify.”
“It does matter!” Celina shot back, looking practically unhinged at the very idea. “I have worked here for five years and that is how I’ve always done it and that is how it should be done.” Sucking in a breath that heaved her ample bosoms dangerously close to the neckline of her low cut blouse, Celina tried again. “Year, month, day. In that order.”
Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Juliette turned back to the practice form Celina had her filling out.
It was simple enough. Most of it was done on the computer anyway and all she had to do was put in the guest’s information and hand them over a key. But Celina made it sound like she was singlehandedly responsi
ble for the saving the world.
“Tell me again how you got my job,” Celina hounded, not for the first time. “I’m the one in charge of new hosts and I didn’t hire you.”
“Harold did,” Juliette said yet again without glancing up from the form. “He called me in yesterday and told me it was mine.”
“See, I don’t believe you.” Celina folded her arms. “The whole thing smells fishy. Harold would tell me if there would be a change like this and he would not put me on nights!”
Juliette shrugged. “You’ll have to ask him.”
“Oh, I will.”
Juliette didn’t doubt it. But what scared her was Celina twisting Harold’s arm into firing Juliette. Sleeping with the manager came with perks like that. All Celina would have to do was bat those pretty blue eyes and suck Harold’s cock and no doubt get him to do whatever she wanted. But what did that mean for Juliette? Would he fire her? Would he make her go back to being a maid? Unlikely. Celina would probably get her kicked out of the hotel for good. The very idea had her insides writhing and her skin going clammy. But she kept a cool composure, refusing to let the other woman get to her.
“Guests,” Celina muttered.
Juliette raised her head and watched as an elderly couple made their way to the counter. Both were smiling kindly and immediately put Juliette at ease. She straightened and returned the smile while positioning herself in front of the computer.
“Hello, welcome to the Twin Peaks Hotel. Do you have a reservation?”
The man, tall and thin with a thick mustache and warm hazel eyes, reached into the inside pocket of his suede coat. His bushy eyebrows furrowed when he didn’t find what he was looking for. His hands went to his pockets. His frown deepened.
The wife, short and round with a lovely face and bright red lips, chuckled. “Henry, what are you looking for?”
Still patting down his person, Henry huffed. “I can’t find my wallet.”
Shaking her head, the wife dug into her purse and drew the worn leather out. “This wallet? The one you gave me so you wouldn’t forget it?”
Henry blushed and took the thing from her. “I knew that.” He flipped it open. “I was just seeing if you remembered.”
The woman rolled her eyes affectionately.
Endeared by the pair of them, Juliette chuckled.
A moment later, several pieces of ID and a reservation print out was set on the counter. Juliette followed the steps Celina had given her. She pulled up the online reservation form and found the man’s name and room number. All the while, Celina breathed down her throat, watching her every move like a hawk. But she must not have done anything wrong, because she managed to get through the whole process without getting yelled at.
Mr. and Mrs. Therrien were sent off to find their rooms and Juliette was left alone with the queen of bitching once more.
“Are you sleeping with Harold?”
The question was so out of the blue and so surprising, Juliette wasn’t fast enough to conceal her disgust.
“Oh, ew!” she blurted without thinking.
Realistically, there was nothing wrong with Harold. He was young and attractive in a car sales men sort of way. But Juliette had never found his dimpled smiles and twinkling green eyes overly enticing, not when she had someone like Killian to compare him to. Harold honestly never stood a chance.
“Who then?” Celina pressed on.
“That is hardly any of your business!” Juliette retorted sharply.
“It is my business when you stole my job!” Celina practically shrieked. “Who the hell are you anyway? What makes you qualified to run the front desk? Do you have any idea—?”
“Look,” Juliette cut her off before the woman had an aneurysm. “I don’t know how I got the job, okay? I’ve been applying for four years and I guess I finally got lucky.”
Celina actually snorted like the very idea was ridiculous. “You did not get lucky. I pick who works at the front and who doesn’t and I did not select you.”
Juliette had nothing to say to that so she kept her mouth shut. Not that it mattered. Celina was on one of her rolls again.
“Furthermore, I would most certainly not let you take my place!” Her pretty alabaster complexion went blotchy beneath her flawless makeup and her eyes shone. “I don’t work nights! I have a social life and I won’t sit here in an empty hotel lobby, waiting…” She sniffled and turned away. Juliette felt a pang of guilt and sympathy and started reaching for the other woman in comfort. “I’m too young and hot to be locked up where no one can see me!”
Guilt and sympathy died instantaneously. Juliette dropped her hand and shook her head.
At five, Celina packed her things, cast Juliette a scathing glower and stalked out of the hotel. Juliette was left alone for an hour before Evan arrived for the night shift. She took the time to unwind from the nightmare that had been her first day. Her head was thrumming and her back ached, but it was her feet that made her want to cry. They hurt like a mother and she was pretty certain she had blisters where the straps on her sandals were cutting into her ankle. But Celina wouldn’t let her sit down for longer than a minute before pointing out how lazy she was being.
Only nine more days to go, she told herself as a motivational pep talk. Celina’s training would eventually end and Juliette would finally be free of the woman. She just needed to bide her time and not commit murder before then.
That was easier said than done when tomorrow would be another day.
John and Tyson were waiting for her when Juliette finally left. The two had taken turns all day sitting in the lobby. Seeing them filled her with a whole new surge of guilt.
“I’m sorry,” she told the pair. “You guys must hate being stuck with me.”
“No ma’am,” Tyson said almost immediately.
“It’s our job,” John added.
She didn’t believe either of them. Who wanted to spend their entire day watching the weather channel in a hotel lobby? The very idea bored her to tears.
“Look, if you guys want to take a break, get some coffee…”
“We’re fine,” John said. “Thank you.”
Juliette sighed. “I’m just going home. You don’t have to follow me there.”
“We go where you go.”
Awesome.
Not pressing the matter, she let herself be led to the SUV. Tyson drove while John sat in the back with her. The moment they started driving, Juliette undid the buckles on her shoes and kicked the torture devices off with great relish. She groaned as her feet straightened to their normal flatness. Her toes cracked. Sure enough, there was a blister on the big toe of her left foot and a cut from the strap on her right ankle. Both throbbed.
“Remind me to set those on fire,” she told John, who inclined his head.
“Yes ma’am.”
Juliette grimaced. “It’s Juliette. Ma’am makes me feel all … matrony.”
John bowed his head again. “Yes ma’am.”
With an exasperated sigh, she dropped the subject.
“Roger.” Tyson said unexpectedly from behind the wheel. He lowered the wrist he’d had up by his mouth. “Boss wants to see you,” he said, peering at Juliette through the rearview mirror.
“Me?” Juliette asked. “Why?”
“Don’t know, ma’am,” was all the answer she got as he turned the car around and headed back towards the estate.
Frank met her at the entrance. His enormous frame took up the entire doorway in a hulking, black shape silhouette against the light coming from the foyer. He regarded her with a perfectly blank expression Juliette was beginning to wonder if they taught at some fancy bodyguard school.
“Hello,” she said. “Frank, right?”
The giant inclined his head. “Yes ma’am.”
Oh good, she thought with a tight lipped smile. Another one.
“I’m Juliette,” she said. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Something shifted across the man’s soft, brown eyes. A smil
e maybe.
“Likewise, ma’am.” He stepped back and gestured her into the foyer. “Mr. McClary has asked me to take you to his room. He’s finishing up some business and will be with you shortly.”
She followed him up the stairs. John and Tyson didn’t follow. They stayed downstairs and she wondered if they would finally relax now that she was in a heavily guarded fortress.
Frank stopped just outside the bedroom. Juliette thanked him before ducking inside. The doors were shut behind her and she simply stood there with no idea what to do next. Did he want her to strip and wait for him on the bed? Was she supposed to get herself wet and ready? In the end, she padded over to the bed and dropped down on it, her exhaustion winning. She pulled the pillow under her head and watched the door for Killian’s arrival.
Chapter 13
It was odd that a life of crime would take up so much after hour negotiation, but as Killian watched the little clock on the right side of his monitor, it seemed like it would never end. The hour kept getting later and the five faces on his screen continued to shout and argue through their webcams about all the necessary precautions they needed to take now that the authorities had upped their force.
None of it made a lick of difference to him. But it was required so he listened with only a quarter of his attention span and waited for the moment he could leave to find Juliette. Frank had already told him she’d arrived and, ever since, his skin had been prickling to go to her. It was the oddest sensation, but one he was quickly becoming accustomed to where she was concerned.
“Why should we offer our planes for your garbage, Lozano?” Theresa Maynard, CEO of Hanmark Corporation by day, gun smuggler by night, curled her pretty red lips in disgust.
As shrewd and evil went, she was probably one of the worst. Cut throat and cold to the core. But maybe one had to be when they put guns in the hands of children. Like Killian, it was a family business. One that had been passed down into her manicured hands. She was the youngest of three, and Killian had met her older brothers, but Theresa was molded in their father’s image, ruthless and cunning. It was no surprise when the company had been put in her name.
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