by KB Jacobs
“Good. Bring Melissa with you.”
“What?”
A small sound squeaked from behind me, and I swung around to find Melissa standing stock-still in the room, a book clutched under her arm, and looking like I’d just found her stealing the silver. As if I had silver to steal.
The simple sight of her rocked me to my core. I hadn’t seen her since she got home from work, and she’d obviously gone for comfort with her clothes tonight. She had on fitted, black workout capris that hugged every tight curve and displayed the outline of her toned thighs. I wanted those thighs wrapped around my hips as I sank into her tight, pulsing heat.
She waved a hand of apology and began to rush out of the room before I could stop her. As she turned to leave, I was met with the curve of her tight, high ass.
My crutches crashed to the ground since I’d forgotten I was holding them. I’d also forgotten how to breathe. Thank goodness my heart didn’t need my brain to make it work or else I’m pretty sure that would have stopped, too.
Arousal clenched deep in my gut as Melissa rushed to my side to help. Her scent of cinnamon and vanilla wafted over me. She leaned over to grab my crutches while I just stood and watched her and tried to get my body to function again. But she bent over, and the tiny, threadbare T-shirt that was too small for her lifted, revealing the black ink of a tattoo low on her back. A large open star with a swirl coming out of it had another smaller solid star off to the topside. So sexy.
Any blood I had left flowing through my body rushed to my cock, and I collapsed onto the safety of the couch. First because I was close to hitting the ground. Second to hide my raging erection.
My mom continued to talk into my ear about how she wanted Melissa at dinner, too. But with the blood rushing away from my brain, it was hard to know exactly what she was saying. I needed to get off the phone. I couldn’t talk to my mom with an erection. That was just...wrong...so wrong.
“She’ll be there,” I said, my voice deeper and more growly than normal.
Melissa looked up at me with wide eyes, still crouched on the floor as I disconnected the call with my mom.
Seeing her there before me gave me so many ideas...bad ideas...ideas I couldn’t act on. But she still knelt there, her pink lips dewy, her blue eyes glittering with something I couldn’t quite read, but it might actually be...interest. Was that possible? If so, why had she turned me down flat last night?
“I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your call. I didn’t realize anyone was in here. I didn’t think anybody ever used this room.”
“Yeah, that’s why I came in here. This is the one place you can count on peace and quiet in the house. I was just talking to my mom. She wants you to come with me to dinner Tuesday night.”
“Um, okay.” A little frown creased her brows as she tilted her head. “Dinner with your parents? I know that I’m supposed to act like your girlfriend, but isn’t that weird? I don’t want to lie to your mom.”
“Mom knows that’s all just a ruse for my sponsors. I’d never lie to my mom about something like that. She wants you to come because she wants you included,” I said, even as my brain reverberated back at me that I’d never taken a girl home with me for one of these dinners. “You’re my houseguest, and you and my mom are friends. It would be weird if you didn’t come.”
“Oh, okay. Yeah. I guess that works.” She still didn’t seem so sure as she handed me my dropped crutches.
But I took her words as acquiescence. “Thanks. What are you reading?”
She blushed a deep, dark red, and her eyes widened as if I’d just told her there were bodies stashed down in the basement. “Nothing you’d be interested in.” Then she rushed out of the room, tucking that book tight against her chest.
I stared after her in shock. What in the world had brought that on? And wow, that tiny glimpse of a tattoo on her back had been hot. Juliet had secrets, and I was more than a little intrigued.
But I had to wait for my erection to deflate a bit before I could follow after her to see what I could find out. Thinking about her tattoo wasn’t helping that any.
Ten minutes later after imagining snow going down my ski pants after a brutal crash, I finally could walk around without the possibility of someone accusing me of sexual harassment. I went in search of Melissa. I planned to search the tower first, but loud cheering and voices coming from the game room diverted my attention.
When I walked in, all the focus in the room was centered over in the couch area where a circle of guys laughed and heckled. I was about to turn away from whatever game they were playing when I heard a sound of distress that I recognized.
Juliet. I swung back around and spotted her, completely surrounded.
“Hey,” one of the guys said, “all I’m saying is that when Triple B is finished with you, I know how to show a girl a good time, too. I think we could have some fun.”
“Isn’t he your friend?” Melissa sounded horrified.
I wasn’t too pleased, either.
“Well, yeah, of course. Everyone is friends with Triple B, but he won’t care. He never bangs a girl more than a couple of times. Then he’s off to fresh meat, and they’re open season for any other guy who wants to move in. Sounds good, right? I saw your moves last night.” He grabbed her around her waist, pulling her tight against him. “Girl, with your hip action and my—”
I roared in anger, cutting off his dirty, nasty words as I threw down my crutches and rushed over to remove his hands from her skin.
I picked her up out of his grasp and set her safely behind me.
I didn’t know what made me more angry...that he was sullying Melissa by saying those words to her, touching her when he had no right, or just how true his words about me had once been.
I pointed my finger at him, and then I waved my hand over the entire room so they knew this was aimed at all of them. “Get out of my house right now.”
For a moment, everyone froze.
“Now!” I yelled. The room cleared quickly.
Melissa came around and stared up at me, those wide eyes shining from her pale face.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
She nodded. Her throat worked as she swallowed and licked her lips.
I followed the motion of her tongue but stepped back and averted my eyes. She didn’t need anyone else leering at her.
She raised a shaking hand and smoothed her hair. She’d managed to maintain her grip on her book with her other hand, so things couldn’t have gotten too bad before I had gotten here.
“I’m fine, but thank you. You didn’t have to kick them out. They were just having fun and have had a few too many. I could have handled it.” This girl was stronger than she appeared.
The problem was...she shouldn’t have had to handle it. No one should feel harassed in her own home. “You deserve a place to sleep where you can feel safe. I’m sorry, and I promise it won’t happen again. Give me five minutes, and there won’t be anyone else here who could bother you.”
“You don’t have to—”
I cut her off. “Yes, I do.” I hobbled over to reclaim my crutches and ignored the deep throbbing in my ankle. I needed to clear my house of the riff-raff. Melissa needed to feel safe here.
I just had to ignore the little voice inside my head, taunting me about who would keep her safe from me.
Chapter 16
Melissa
I stood in shocked silence while Anthony hobbled off to toss out the rest of his houseguests. I’d dealt with worse before. My brother’s—Malcolm’s—friends were always teasing me while growing up. And being one of the youngest girls in college hadn’t helped my case any. But having someone else stand up for me was different. Something about the intimacy of it. I should have felt safe here, but...
I shook away the memories trying to rear their ugly head.
I should’ve known better than to come down here. But every time I tried to read in that room, all I could think about was Anthony. The
minute I had walked into the game room, Anthony’s friends had sat up and took notice. And when one of them spotted the cover of my erotic novel, it was all over.
Now gripping the offending book in my hands, I marched to the kitchen. A cold drink of water was exactly what I needed to calm my nerves and steady my heart rate. The granite countertops and custom maple cabinets were another example of the opulence surrounding me in Anthony’s house. Everything about this place screamed larger-than-life. The nonstop keggers, multimillion-dollar mansion, and rooftop pool parties all painted the picture of a guy who was down for anything.
I ran a light finger over my book cover. The woman pictured wore nothing but a sexy lingerie set and a blindfold. I shook my head and tucked the book into the back of my waistband. Some fantasies were better left for imagining between the pages.
Refocusing on the here and now, I grabbed a glass from one of the pristine cabinets and filled it with water. I took a long, slow sip, and then held the glass up to my forehead. The coolness helped to relieve some of my tension, but only a cold shower would help me in other places.
Once again, Anthony had come to my rescue, adding fuel to my growing desire to rip his clothes off and lick him from stem to stern. But that was the worst idea ever. Anthony saw me as the good girl, and that was what he needed to revamp his image. Still, it was hard not to imagine him pinning me to a bed every time he walked into the same room as me.
“Are you okay?” Anthony crutched into the kitchen, his face expressionless. Except I saw the little twinges of pain cross his face every time his crutches touched down on the floor.
“I should be the one asking you that.” I set my glass down and checked to make sure my book was still safely tucked into my pants. “You’re the one wincing because you threw your crutches on the ground and overtaxed the ankle you hurt while rescuing me from a burning building.”
Anthony looked down at the ankle in question and winced again. When he glanced back up at me, he opened his mouth but closed it again without saying a word. At least he had the decency not to pretend that he wasn’t hurt.
“My ankle hurts half the time as it is. I’m more concerned about what those jerks I used to think were my friends said to you.”
“I...” Their taunting words ran through my head. If you want to be tied up, I can help you with that. “I’m fine.”
“They won’t be if they ever try to step foot in this house again. I made it clear the party’s over.” Anthony slid onto a barstool next to the island and leaned his elbow on the counter. “It’s something I’ve needed to do for a while now.”
He sat with his head resting in his hand, his facial features drooping with exhaustion. My fingers itched to reach over and smooth away the stress lines forming between his eyes. I clasped my hands behind my back. Must not touch the sexy wounded man in the kitchen.
“Do you need anything? I could make you a sandwich or get you a drink.” I was supposed to be helping him, but so far all I’d done was cause more trouble.
Anthony shook his head. “No, I’m not hungry.” He studied me for a moment. “How is it you don’t have a boyfriend?”
I laughed uncomfortably at the sudden change of topic. “Well, it turns out real life guys have nothing on book boyfriends.” He looked confused, so I elaborated. “Simply put, guys in real life aren’t the romantic heroes that Disney or my romance novels said they’d be. So far, I haven’t found a prince willing to sweep me off my feet.” I gave him a self-deprecating shrug and tried not to let my thoughts go to that time in my life when I’d believed in the fairy tale. I really hated thinking about it.
Anthony frowned but then nodded toward the stairs. “It’s been a long day. Can you spot me back up to my room?”
“Of course.” I checked my book one more time and followed Anthony out of the kitchen. We both passed the game room and rode the elevator up to the second floor in silence. Anthony moved slowly on his crutches, but he made it down the hallway without so much as a totter or stumble.
At the fairytale door, he pulled a skeleton key out of his pocket and unlocked the entrance to the turret stairs. I closed the door behind us and kept my hand poised two inches behind the small of his back as he made his way painstakingly slow up the stairs to our joined rooms. My fingers heated, and I resisted the urge to move them closer to his strong back.
By the time we made it to the top, Anthony was breathing hard, and a light sheen of sweat spread across his brow. He might have talked a good game in the kitchen, but it was clear the scuffle with his friends had wiped out all the rest of his energy.
Anthony paused outside his door, leaning heavily on his crutches. He didn’t ask for help, but I gave it to him anyway. I leaned around his bulky frame, careful not to touch him, and opened the door to his personal domain. His room was nothing like how I imagined.
I expected a continuation of the over-the-top lavishness of the rest of the house. In my head, I had pictured a shrine to his greatness. Awards and trophies showcased in their own spotlights with signed posters of himself framed on the wall like an art exhibit titled “The Greatness of Triple B.” Instead, I found the exact opposite.
In place of posters, Anthony’s walls held dozens of pictures. A handful of them contained snapshots of him with other snowboarders, but the majority were family. Anthony as a kid building a snowman with his dad. Anthony’s mom planting a huge kiss on his cheek. His parents smiling in front of a glistening Christmas tree. Each one a testament to a family tied together with love.
The rest of the room was sparse. A king-sized sleigh bed filled the center of the space, flanked by two matching nightstands. A long dresser and an overstuffed arm chair were the only other pieces of furniture. Besides the wall of pictures, the only other decoration was an old snowboard propped in the corner. It seemed small, not that I had a ton of experience in snowboarding. Still, Anthony had an equipment room downstairs filled with colorful boards, shiny helmets, and riding outfits. This board was plain in comparison. Was this his first snowboard?
Anthony made his way across the soft plush carpet, the same as in my room next door. He sank down onto the bed and tossed his crutches to the floor.
I stood awkwardly next to the doorway, not nearly as nervous in Anthony’s bedroom as I thought I should be. While the rest of the house screamed Triple B, this room was different. Maybe Anthony was different, too.
“Are you sure I can’t get anything for you?”
Anthony opened his eyes and grinned over at me. “Actually, if you’d run back downstairs and bring me a pain pill, I’d love you forever.”
“Right,” I squeaked out. “I’ll go grab that and be right back.”
I dashed out the door but made a quick stop in my own room before heading downstairs. I pulled my book out of my waistband and tossed it on the bed before closing the door behind me. Heading down the turret stairs, I tried not to think about the naughty scenes in that book or the sexy way Anthony’s voice rumbled through his chest when he said I’d love you forever.
***
I rubbed my damp palms against the edges of my very short skirt. Tonight was the night for stepping things up. Brad and I had already gone all the way, but tonight would be better.
He was so gorgeous. To have one of the most popular boys in school interested in me, especially since I was sixteen to his eighteen, was huge. So yeah, the sex had been a bit disappointing the first time, but I had a plan to fix that. Now I just had to convince him.
I checked my purse. The cuffs and blindfold were still there, and a sizzle ran straight from my belly down to my private parts. This would be good. Already, I was more excited—aroused—than I had been the first time. I giggled with nerves and then knocked on Brad’s door, praying his parents were still out of town.
Brad opened the door and smiled. Gah, I loved his dimples.
“Hey,” I said, shyly.
“Hiya, Mel.” He smirked at me as he gave me a sweeping, blistering look from my high heels to my low cu
t top. The appreciation in his eyes made up for him using that hideous nickname he knew I hated. I wanted to correct him, but I didn’t. There was no reason to start off this night on the wrong foot.
As soon as the door shut behind us, he turned me toward it and latched his lips onto the back of my neck with a growl. “I missed you, baby. Did you miss me?”
He ground his erection against my ass, shoving me up against the hard wood of the door. I grunted in pain, but that seemed to excite him more. He started pulling at my clothes.
Panic flared in warning, and I ducked under his arm.
“Hey!” He scowled at me, anger crossing through his gaze.
I winced internally. I didn’t want to make him mad, so I gave him a small smile. “Sorry, but I did miss you. I want to see you this time. It was so fast last time in your car.”
His eyes widened and darted behind me, but then he gave me that charming smile of his. “Of course, baby. I have what you need right here. You can see as much of me as you want.” He reached down and undid the button of his pants, pulling out his hard, thick penis.
My eyes dropped to the long, thick organ, and my mouth went dry. Yeah, now it made more sense why penetration had hurt so much. I hadn’t been ready enough that night, and wow, he was big. I swallowed hard. I’d read and done some research since then though. Lubrication was key. I patted my bag where the bottle of lube was resting in the side pocket. None of the women in the books I read ever needed it, but those women were all more experienced than me. Bloody hell, my first time was in Brad's car two days ago. Everyone was more experienced than me.
I gave him a tremulous smile. “Yeah, exactly,” I said weakly. I licked my dry lips. “I also have an idea.”
He stepped closer to me, tossed my purse on the couch, and grabbed my hand, taking it down to his penis. “Mel, as long as it has your hands on me and my dick inside you, we can do whatever you want.”
