Devoted to Pleasure

by Shayla Black

  The connection of their mouths and bodies seemed even deeper, as if joining those parts of her with those parts of him reached deep into his chest and tore down his restraint. It pulled at his heart, yanked open his soul.

  Yep, he was going to fall hard for Shealyn West and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to stop it anymore. At the moment, he didn’t want to. He’d deal with the fallout later.

  Sensations built. Adrenaline and thrill pumped through his blood, clouding his thoughts. His brain shut down. Instinct took over. He gripped her so tight he would probably leave bruises on her pale flesh, but he doubted she would mind. Indeed, she went wilder in his arms as his thrusts sped up and his kiss intensified. Their breathing labored as one. His heart chugged so hard it threatened to thud out of his chest. Even his toes tingled. None of that mattered. He single-mindedly pursued one goal: to hear her scream for him as he emptied himself inside her. That, and that alone, registered.

  With a roll of his hips and a nudge, he lifted her legs higher, pressing them closer to her chest as he pounded inside her, now sweating and struggling to hold back the massive wall of pleasure that nearly crushed him. God, she was so close. He could feel her tight and panting and humming with anticipation. Just another few strokes. He couldn’t fall short. He had to hold out . . .

  Cutter tore his mouth away. “You close now?”

  “Yes . . .” Her voice was a breathy whine. “God, yes. Cutter . . .”

  “I’m here. Come, sweetheart. Let’s do this together,” he growled at her. “Now!”

  Then he shoved into her, one rough stroke after another, now filling her without mercy.

  She screamed as the rest of her body froze. Her muscles clenched so tightly around his cock, Cutter could barely move. But he relished the challenge of prolonging her pleasure. Cherished it. Enjoyed the hell out of feeling her ecstasy.

  And he climaxed to it, the heady, dizzying, sizzling sensations burning him, disintegrating him, transforming him.

  Yeah, no doubt. He’d fallen in love with the one woman he couldn’t have beyond this assignment and didn’t deserve forever.

  CHAPTER 11

  Lying beside Shealyn, with her wrapped in his arms, Cutter listened to the sound of her breathing and sighed against her temple. God, he felt so . . . peaceful. Content. Euphoric in a way he’d never imagined.

  Where the hell did they go from here?

  The way she was curled up beside him, Cutter figured she was basking in their mutual glow tonight. But it couldn’t last. She’d only hired him through Monday at noon and, barring more danger, she wouldn’t ask him to stay. They were from different worlds, and he didn’t belong in hers. All he could do now was enjoy the ride until it ended and leave with half his heart. At least he’d leave her safer than before he found her.

  Along with his distinctly uncheerful thoughts, a buzzing sound harshed his mellow. Carefully, he rolled from Shealyn’s arms and padded over to his pants, watching as she rolled to her side and curled up with his pillow, frowning when it wasn’t as warm as he was.

  The buzzing snagged his attention again, and he grabbed his phone from the pocket of his pants. Brea. She was reaching out to him. At three forty A.M.

  Dread gripped his belly as he dropped his pants and stalked naked into the living room. “Bre-bee? You okay?”

  “Hi, Cutter.” Her voice shook.

  His gut seized. “What’s going on?”

  “I haven’t heard from you. Everything all right there? Your starlet a problem child?”

  “Her situation is more complicated than I thought at first glance, but . . .” We’re working through it? No, they’d been in bed, losing themselves in each other. The only thing they were trying to work through now was their mutual desire, which felt boundless.

  Guilt pummeled him. Brea worried about him, while he was still covered in the sweat he’d worked up making love to Shealyn. Brea wouldn’t care, and that was fucked up. If they eventually married, he wondered how many more times he’d find himself in this very position—caring more about his infidelity than she ever would.

  Hell, she likely viewed their relationship exactly as it was—two friends marrying for convenience’s sake. She probably wasn’t looking at their marriage vows as being meaningful because they’d both be lying about their love, devotion, and faithfulness in front of God and family. Maybe the guilt was his problem and he needed to get over the moral stick up his ass that wanted the promises he made to his wife to mean something.

  On the other hand, she might never agree to marry him at all . . . but if she was calling at this hour and sounding slightly flustered, he wouldn’t take that bet.

  “I’ll figure it out,” he said on a hard sigh.

  “You always do. But I’m worried about you. You sound so tired.”

  “Pacific time is two hours behind Central,” he pointed out.

  “Oh, my gosh. I’m so sorry. I always mess that up . . .”

  “What’s going on?” Cutter waited for her to explain why she’d called so early. It was still before six in Sunset, Louisiana. There was a reason she’d reached out to him at this hour, forgotten time difference or not.

  “Daddy is suspicious. I’m scared.”

  Now he heard panic in her voice. It was an undertone, sitting a little sharp just under her words. He wished he could tug her into his arms and tell her that everything would be all right. But he was already lying to himself enough. He’d rather not lie to her, too. And the truth was, he couldn’t help her unless she agreed to marry him.

  “Tell me everything.”

  “He asked me why I’m so tired lately and why I’ve started skipping breakfast more often than not.”

  “You having morning sickness?” He frowned.

  “Like crazy. Sometimes it lasts well past noon, then suddenly I’m ravenous and eat everything in sight. It’s like my body isn’t my own anymore.”

  “It’s not.”

  She let out a shuddering breath. “Then Daddy asked me last night why I’d been taking so many trips to Lafayette on my days off. I went to meet with my new obstetrician yesterday. I had to figure out how to pay her cash because my credit card statements come to the house and Daddy looks through my mail . . .”

  Cutter winced. “Good thinking. In case the doctor’s office sends you anything else, list my place as your address.”

  “I’ll change it next time I’m there. I don’t have to go for another two months, so . . . that’s good.”

  Maybe, but she sounded nervous as hell. “We’ve talked about this. Eventually your father is going to realize what’s going on. He’s going to see that your body is changing, Brea.”

  “I know.” Now he heard tears in her voice. The panic had given way and she felt lost, trapped under her father’s well-meaning but dictatorial thumb and her own worries for the future. “No matter what I do, I’m going to hurt someone. I either have to destroy my father, given his heart condition, or make a choice that goes against my moral code. And then there’s you . . . I can’t bear the thought of ruining your life.”

  “You have enough to worry about right now without worrying about me. Brea, let’s be honest. You’re not going to have an abortion.”

  “Of course not!”

  “And you’re not going to tell your father that you hooked up with a guy you have no intention of marrying, got pregnant, and are planning to raise your baby on your own.”

  “I can’t.” She sounded as if even the idea terrified her. “What if the news kills Daddy?”

  “And what if he disowns you? You know if he does, the town will do the same. We’ve covered all this. You either have to leave Sunset alone and raise the baby in secret or—”

  “I’ll marry you. I-if you’ll still have me.”

  There were the words Cutter had both wanted and feared. He closed his eyes. Dread clenched every
muscle in his body. But he’d pushed for this, so he couldn’t turn selfish now. Brea needed him, and he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he didn’t help her. Sure, it was inconvenient as hell that she had finally agreed to marry him the night he’d realized he loved Shealyn . . . but he wasn’t crazy enough to think his television star would ever love him back. She had a life here in L.A., a whole bright Hollywood future in front of her. Right now, she needed safety and companionship. He could give her those things until she sent him away in a few days. He didn’t know yet what he’d do about the sex. But once he was gone, Shealyn would be fine on her own. He’d make sure of it.

  Then he’d return to Louisiana, get hitched, and take comfort in the fact he was making the right choice for the woman who was the closest thing to a sister he would ever have.

  “Of course, Bre-bee. I’d be honored.”

  “A-and like I said, I’ll never infringe on your personal life. I want you to be as happy as you can in this mess. Don’t ever feel guilty about finding someone to give you um . . . satisfaction. If you want children of your own, we’ll figure something out. Artificial insemination or—”

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. That’s years away, and we’ll address those issues as they come. You just worry about you and the baby right now. Unless plans change, I’ll be back early next week, and we’ll go to the justice of the peace.”

  “We can’t do that. Daddy will want to marry us.”

  She was right. The old man would insist. And he would want the ceremony in his church—a big shindig the whole town would attend. “How soon can you plan a wedding that doesn’t look slapped together?”

  “In Sunset? January sixth.”

  “That’s too long. Your pregnancy will likely show by then.”

  “Maybe not, with the right dress. But everything is booked up with the holidays. Out of curiosity, I called Norma Kay and asked if she could cater food for an event in December. She said she promised her family she’d do pre-Christmas parties, then take a vacation until the first of the year. Who else in Sunset can do the event except Violet? She just had a hip replacement yesterday in Baton Rouge.”

  “Brea, you’ll have to bend a little or run the risk of everyone finding out.”

  “If I bend a little, as you call it, people will guess.”

  Cutter cursed. She might well be right.

  “What if we took a cruise out of New Orleans and got married in the Caribbean, told your father and the rest of the town we eloped because we were too in love to wait? You’ve always said you wanted to visit paradise. Everyone knows it.”

  That made her pause for a long moment. He could practically hear her thoughts spinning. “Let me think about that. Maybe . . . maybe Daddy and the town would buy that. Can I let you know when you get home?”

  “Yeah.” He should end the conversation now, not give her any of his problems. But if they were going to be married and live together, he had to be honest with her. “Brea? I need to get something off my chest.”

  “What is it?” If anything, her concern sounded even deeper. Yes, she worried about her baby and her situation and how to save face in their little pissant town. But Cutter knew she loved him and worried about him even more. “I’ve been babbling on about my issues and haven’t listened to yours. I’m sorry. Tell me.”

  “I need to make sure you’re sure you can handle a marriage that isn’t . . . romantic. If we do this, we either have to give it a genuine go or—”

  “It’s not possible.” And she sounded as if that fact was going to make her cry.

  Goddamn it. “I’m in love with someone.”

  “Oh.” She sounded stunned. “I-I didn’t know. Of course you’re not marrying me. I’ll find another way to keep my baby and my life. Don’t worry. Please. Marry the woman who has your heart. I want you to be so happy, Cutter. I want that for you more than anything.”

  “I can’t.” And he didn’t want to go into all the reasons why. “She’s sweet and wonderful, and she has her own huge life that doesn’t include me. I knew going in that she’d talk to me, maybe go to bed with me, but . . .”

  Brea cleared her throat. “Is it your starlet client? I’m sure she’s very pretty.”

  “That’s not why—”

  “You don’t have to explain anything. And you don’t have to make excuses. I understand. I really do, more than you know. You really think there’s no long-term chance between the two of you—”

  “None.” Even if Shealyn did care about him, she wasn’t going to give up her life for the guy she spent a hot night in the sack with. He was too much of a realist to think otherwise.

  “Then enjoy the time you have with her. And if she doesn’t know what a great husband she’s missing out on, it would be my distinct honor to be your wife.”

  Fighting the sadness tearing his insides to shreds, he glanced back toward Shealyn’s bedroom. When futile tears filled his eyes, he tore his stare away and looked out over the empty lights of L.A. “Then it’s settled. You think about eloping and we’ll make a plan once I’m home next week.”

  “Okay. I’ll do whatever I can to make you happy.”

  Cutter knew Brea meant that . . . but it was impossible.

  * * *

  —

  Shealyn stretched lazily. Without opening her eyes, she already knew the time was far later than four A.M. So much for exercise today . . . On the other hand, she and Cutter had never paused for dinner last night. Instead, they’d shared hours of . . . what? More than lust. More than their bodies. More than sex.

  She’d had a naive love for Alex, her boyfriend in high school. They’d gone “all the way” a few times, but it had been fumbling, sweet. Foster had pounded her against the dressing room wall, the cold surface biting into her skin. She’d been terrified they would get caught. Supposedly that fear was a turn-on for some. It had all but snuffed Shealyn’s desire. The entire encounter had been hard and fast and empty. She’d left the boutique feeling something between guilty and dirty.

  Being with Cutter had been a completely new experience. With him, she felt like the most adored, well-pleasured woman alive. Over and over. All night. As she stretched again, she sighed happily.

  Since being drugged with toe-curling sex wasn’t a viable excuse to be late for hair and makeup, Shealyn rolled over and looked at the clock. Six fifteen. Yikes, it was definitely time to adult. Of course she’d far rather lie in bed and finally have the opportunity to show Cutter how much she appreciated every inch of him.

  Where was he? She sat up, looked around. The bedroom was empty.

  “Cutter?”

  She heard clinking from the kitchen, then he entered her room a moment later, already showered and dressed. He set a steaming cup of coffee on her nightstand. “This is for you. What time do you want to leave?”

  Shealyn picked his expression apart and tried to understand his mood. Aloof? Distant? Something she didn’t like.

  Had he decided to take a giant step back now that he’d gotten what he wanted? She grabbed the sheet just barely covering the swells of her breasts and jerked it up to her neck. “Thirty minutes.”

  He nodded. “I’ll take you when you’re ready.”

  “Great. In the meantime, do you want to explain why you’re acting as if you barely know me?”

  Cutter didn’t say anything for a long moment, and she had the distinct impression he was mulling something over. “Sorry. I got a call from a friend in the middle of the night. Some things to deal with back home that are . . . complicated.”

  Shealyn dropped her righteous indignation. Of course he had his own life—family, friends, hopes, and troubles. She didn’t know anything about them. She wouldn’t hear how this got resolved, either. He’d probably be gone by then. Maybe he was smart for allowing the distance between them. She just didn’t want it.

  “I didn’t con
sider that you had something else going on. Sorry to snap. I hope everything turns out all right.”

  “Thanks.” Somehow Cutter sounded even sadder.

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  He shook his head. “It won’t change anything.”

  “I’m willing to listen.”

  “What’s done is done.”

  That had a ring of finality that snaked worry through her. Nothing that had happened in Louisiana could possibly affect her, but she couldn’t shake the notion that whatever troubled him ran deep.

  With a sigh, he caressed her cheek. “Last night was everything . . . but I think it would be wise for both of us to take a step back, not get attached.”

  Shealyn blinked and looked away. She could lie, but what they’d shared last night seemed so honest and raw and real that she couldn’t pretend it hadn’t done something to her heart. “You’re probably right, but I don’t know if I can.”

  With a frustrated sigh, he pulled her close, finally comforting her chest to chest, enveloping her in the heat of his body. Now, she felt safe and warm. At home.

  “Sweetheart, the feelings between us were supposed to be one-sided. I could accept that I was falling for you when I knew you couldn’t possibly feel the same.”

  She’d suspected he felt something after the tender, all-consuming passion he’d given her last night, but to actually hear that he was falling for her? Shealyn felt a surge of joy. “But I do.”

  “Don’t.” He shook his head. “I’m a dead end.”

  Why would he think that? “You’re amazing. Who cares that you’re not famous? You’re real. You’re not chasing celebrity at the expense of your scruples. You’ve risked your life for your country. You’ve selflessly protected other people and—”

  “I’m going back to Louisiana soon, to my family, and my responsibilities are there.”

  It was on the tip of her tongue to say that he didn’t have to. The impulse to ask him to stay with her, be with her, live with her, was fierce. She’d known Cutter less than a week. But his life wasn’t here. And how crazy would she be to give up her career to live in his small town when she’d never even visited the place . . . even if it would probably feel a lot more like home than L.A.?