Crossing the Line: Without a Trace series, a contemporary erotic romance novel

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Crossing the Line: Without a Trace series, a contemporary erotic romance novel Page 18

by Bishop, Ally


  I crane my neck to make eye contact. “Never mind. Just go home. I’m canceling this nightmare before it gets out of hand.”

  He lays a hand on my shoulder as I turn away, his heat searing my bare skin. “Wait, now. Look.” He drops his hand and stops a beat until I meet his gaze. “I ken I’m not the charmer Stephen is, but I ken a fair bit about what he does. I think I can handle it. And he mentioned that ye were a Dominatrix, and that ye’d be runnin’ things, so ye can just tell me what to do.” He bites the inside of his lip. “I’ll do it.”

  The cheer in his eyes pisses me off. “This is a joke to you. You can barely keep from laughing.” I shake my head at him, my temper undoubtedly turning my own skin pink. “This is not funny. The woman on the other side of that door,” I point down the hallway, “is terrified of letting herself go. She has a hard time enjoying sex because of assholes who ridiculed and abused her rather than making her feel beautiful and aroused. I will be damned if I will let you anywhere near her. Not when you think this is some kind of goddamn joke. You are—”

  “Lux, I’m sorry. I wasna laughing at ye or anything about this.” He steps closer, and I get a whiff of some kind of creamy, spicy cologne mixed with...him, probably. And it’s delicious. “But ye have a feather here,” his hand reaches towards my hair and plucks something from it. “And it wiggles, the angrier ye get.”

  I glare at the offending feather and snatch it from him. It’s from one of the props I brought with me, and the delicate fringe crushes easily in my palm. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. If I cancel this, Ari will be heartbroken. I’ve fielded half a dozen texts from her already this week, thanking me for doing this and asking nervous questions. After six months of meeting with her, we’re finally at the point of fulfilling her deepest fantasy. And there are worse-looking men to have in your fantasy than this one.

  “You cannot, I repeat, cannot fuck this up. You listen to me, you do exactly what I say, and you never step a toe out of line. Am I clear?” Even to my ears, I sound like a total ass, but surprisingly, Fin only nods.

  “Aye.”

  “You will call me Mistress Hathaway, as none of my clients know my real name.”

  “Of course.”

  “You’ll strip down to your underwear when we get inside, and you will not approach the bedroom or Ari until I say so. Got it?”

  He nods, his face solemn, though I can still see the laughter in his eyes. “After ye, Mistress,” he says with a small bow.

  Want more Inside the Lines?

  Order it now!

  The third book in the Without a Trace series,

  available on Amazon and other retailers!

  He’s everything I swore I didn’t want...

  And he’s the one person who might set fire to my soul.

  They say love doesn’t hurt.

  But it’s a lie. I promise you, love someone long enough, and they’ll destroy your soul.

  I’ve spent my life taking care of everyone else: my family, my ex-husband, my friends. Deep down, I know I should focus on myself, but how can I when I’ve got one sister about to implode while the other battles her own guilt?

  The minute I met Kai Isaac, I should’ve run in the opposite direction. His business isn’t one I want any part of, and I’ve got way too much drama in my life already.

  But his kiss...those eyes...the raging inferno he creates when he touches me...I can’t stay away. Life’s reeling out of control, and he’s my only refuge from the storm.

  My sister Lux says trusting someone means not knowing everything about them and being okay with it...but what if not knowing the truth ruins everything?

  Tracing the Lines is Book Three in the Without a Trace series, and takes place after Inside the Lines.

  Zi Trace has got problems of her own, and they all start with one man, the sexy film producer Kai Isaac.

  Tracing the Lines

  CHAPTER ONE

  ONE KISS

  Love doesn’t hurt.

  That’s what they say. But it’s a lie. I promise you, love someone long enough, and they’ll destroy your soul.

  I should know: with a little sister who’s determined to self-destruct any day and an ex who cared more about his own needs than anyone else around him, I’m kind of over the whole “true love” bullshit perpetuated in chick flicks.

  But I can’t help wishing for something more, something that wouldn’t require payment with a broken heart and tears. Does such a thing exist? I’ve no idea as I’ve yet to find it…and I’m not holding my breath.

  “Wait—what am I doing?”

  Lux shoves me through the glass door. “You’re helping out a friend.”

  “But you said they’re making a movie or something. I thought I was just here to tag along.” We’re in a lobby with quirky, colorful chairs and framed movie posters on the wall. I’ve never seen any of these films, however, and I stop our forward momentum and stare at my sister.

  “Lux, what is this, exactly?”

  Her gray eyes meet mine, looking entirely too innocent—and if you know my sister, she’s anything but. “It’s a favor for a friend. I had someone else lined up, and she got sick.”

  “So what am I doing then?” Lux talked me into joining her this morning because she said I’d get to see a live film set, which sounded appealing. It’s not like I have many days off to spend with my sister, so I thought this would be a good time to enjoy her company.

  I’m starting to have my doubts.

  She grabs my shoulders. “Trust me—this will be fun.”

  But her amused gaze doesn’t spark confidence, and I trudge beside her, suspicious. While my sister might like to pretend she’s now a staid businesswoman, I know the truth: she used to be a Dominatrix, and her risk-taking side is much more developed than mine. Of course, today we’re both clean-faced and in jeans and sneakers, our hair—hers black as night and mine blonde—pulled into ponytails, so no one would guess we both have our business acumen firmly planted in sexy industries. Well, sort of. Lux now runs an online dating site named Kinked, and I own what I like to call a “sensual pleasures” shop, mostly focused on lingerie and bra fittings…but the backroom offers a variety of, well, sex toys.

  “Who’s friend are we doing this favor for?”

  She sighs and adjusts the strap of her pink tank top. “You know how Noah’s friends with all these film people now? It’s one of his buddy’s friends.”

  “Hold on—we’re doing a favor for someone Noah doesn’t even know?” Noah is Lux’s best friend, and he’s an actor. And a business owner, come to think of it.

  “Not exactly. I mean, he’s met the guy. I think.”

  We’re walking way too fast down a hallway towards something I have way too little details about. “Lux, what are you not telling me?”

  She’s saved from answering when a young couple, probably in their early twenties, exits a door just ahead of us. They’re both smiling, looking at each other the way new lovers do, with flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes.

  Before I can make my sister answer my question, she opens the door the two exited and ushers me inside.

  It’s definitely a film set. There’s a screen against one wall around which cameras, poles with lights, and several people cluster. The rest of the room lies in shadow, in which Lux and I are standing.

  “Answer my—”

  “Lux! How are you?” A tall, thin guy pulls Lux into a hug.

  She embraces him back with a huge smile. “Ger! Awesome to see you.” When she pulls back, she introduces us. “Ger is the director on this film. Ger, this is my sister Zi, and she’s here to fill in for Fiona.”

  He holds out a hand, his expression weary but cheerful. “Ah, our last victim. I mean, participant.” He smiles warmly as we shake, and I’m wildly conscious of how cold my fingers are against his very warm ones. “We weren’t sure if we had one more to go—the other party canceled, too.”

  “You don’t need Zi?” Lux asks.

  “No,
no, we can use her. I’ll get Kai to stand-in. Let me sound the alarm to get ready.”

  “Ready for—” My question dies on my lips as he turns away, bellowing at his people to get “set up.” I turn to my sister, drawing myself up to my full five-feet-eleven-inches so I can glare down at her. “What am I getting ready for here?”

  My tone brooks no excuses, and she lifts a shoulder with a heavy exhale. “They’re making a promotional film for a movie series their doing. It’s silly, fun, whimsical, sweet—”

  “And what am I doing here then?”

  “You’re one of the cast.”

  If the idea of being filmed wasn’t terrifying enough… “Doing what, exactly?”

  Lux nibbles her full bottom lip. “Making out with someone.”

  “What?” My voice drops an octave.

  “It’ll be fun, Zizi Baby. It’s a series of strangers connecting, kissing a bit, showing who we are at our most intimate.” Lux seems to rethink her words. “Hm, okay, maybe that does sounds a little scary.”

  “No, absolutely not.” I spin towards the door. “Not going to happen.” But there’s several people behind us now, doing God only knows what, so it’s not like I can run out into the hallway. I feel a heavy hand on my shoulder, and Ger is back, a big smile on his lean face. “Zi, right? We’re going to get you into hair and makeup briefly—just a few minutes—and then we’ll be ready.”

  I glare at my sister. “Are you going to explain this to him, or am I?”

  Lux takes Ger’s arm. “We’ll be right over.”

  Ger laughs and nods. “No problem. Kai’s in a meeting so we’ve got a few minutes.”

  Lux doesn’t even give me a second to yell at her. “Look, I know this is weird, and I know this wasn’t what you expected. But you’ve been single for two years now. Not a single date…text…anything.” She grips my arms, staring into my eyes. “You need to have some fun. Let loose a little. This is safe; these are nice folks, they’re doing cool things, and you get to make out with someone for a few minutes without any repercussions. Maybe you’ll rediscover your sex drive.”

  “I have a perfectly fine sex drive, thank you very much.” But I can’t deny her words. I’ve worked so much and so hard, and if I’m honest, it’s been easier than even contemplating dating again. She knows why I haven’t stepped toe on the field again, and she’s probably right: if I’m not thrown into the pool, I might never swim again. But that doesn’t mean I’m letting her off the hook. “Why didn’t you just tell me what this was all about?”

  “Because you’d never have come. And you need this, Zi. You need something. God, you’re younger than me, yet you act like you’re older.”

  I stick my tongue out at her. “Easy for you to say, Ms. Hottie-with-a-Scottie.”

  She grins, any mention of her love Fin MacKenzie turning her cheeks pink with delight. “Very true. And we need to find you your hottie, okay? But first, we have to get you in fighting condition. Today might be a good ice breaker.”

  I widen my eyes and blow out a breath. “I’m not sure making out with a stranger is going to fix anything.”

  “Maybe not.” She steers me towards a door on the other side of the room. “But it can’t hurt.”

  Here I am, makeup-ed and my hair spritzed and coiffed—the stylist insisted my long locks should be down in soft curls and used a surprisingly small amount of makeup—and I’m standing on “my mark,” an “X” of black tape on the floor.

  “Just do what comes naturally,” Ger says, patting my shoulder. “We’re looking for honest reactions.”

  “Don’t I need another party for this?” I ask, my acidic tone a result of my nerves.

  Ger chuckles. “You do. He’s on his way.”

  I’m just hoping he’s not a stunt double for a hunchback. Lux stands off-camera, chatting with a “grip,” or at least, I think that’s what the woman’s called. A gaffer? I can barely remember my own name at this point.

  In order to make me feel more comfortable, Ger introduced me to several of the people standing around in casual wear, some manning cameras and mics, others with clipboards. There’s not that many people—maybe eight, total, but it seems like a lot in this small space.

  “Sorry that took so long,” echoes a deep voice behind Ger.

  “No worries, Kai. Zi, this is our executive producer, Kai Isaac.”

  I’m not a short woman, but Kai makes me feel tiny. If the man didn’t play basketball, coaches somewhere must’ve drowned in sorrow. His dark hair, wavy, in a rumpled, not-quite-styled look begs to be touched. Like the rest of the crew, he wears jeans and a t-shirt, and he moves with an elegance that belies his casual air. But I’m captured by his gaze. Smoky green and muted amber, with flecks of gold around the center, and when those eyes meet mine, there’s a softness that steals my breath.

  “Good to meet you,” he says with a smile.

  His hand feels huge around mine as we shake, and I struggle to find my tongue. “Y-you as well.”

  “Now that we’re all here, we can get started.” Ger steps back, leaving Kai and me facing each other. “Remember: we want this to be honest, so try to relax. We’re going to roll tape, and you’re going to get started when you’re ready. And…action.”

  Suddenly, the room seems too small and too big at the same time. Kai looks down at me, his full lips curved with a small grin. “Are you okay?”

  “We’re not supposed to talk or something first?” I lick my lips, my mouth dry, and I’m wildly aware that I didn’t chew gum after eating breakfast. God, is my breath bad?

  “Not really. The goal is to show what happens when strangers lose themselves in another person.”

  I’m pretty sure I’m already lost. I trail my hand through my hair, nerves fluttering. How am I still upright? He steps closer, reaches for my hands. His touch is gentle, and he draws my palms up to his shoulders. “Pretend we’re in a club, and I’ve gotten up the nerve to ask the most beautiful woman in the room for a dance. You don’t know me, but there’s something between us.” He grins, both charming and teasing. His broad shoulders are hard beneath my fingers, and as his hands rest lightly on my waist, it’s impossible not to melt against him, to feel his long, muscled body against mine.

  “I don’t know how to dance,” I whisper, then want to kick myself. With my hormones firing like loose cannons, anything’s liable to come out of my mouth.

  “I’ll teach you.” With aching slowness, he lowers his mouth to mine. His lips are soft, curious, and as we explore each other, he tightens his hold around me, his fingers slipping into my hair. He deepens the kiss, his tongue sliding against mine, and he tastes of cinnamon with a hint of coffee. I can barely take a breath as I dissolve against him. His palm grazes my hip, seeking purchase as he presses me closer, and I can feel the hard length of him against my lower stomach. Some part of me is relieved: I’m not the only one getting turned on. A small voice in the back of my mind reminds me that I’m making out with a total stranger, but that doesn’t seem to make much impact. Or maybe, that’s the point?

  Minutes—hell, it could be hours—pass, and we break away, both breathing heavily. I catch a faint whiff of something mildly spicy—aftershave?—mixed with him, and I want more. He holds my face close, his gaze seeking. Satisfied, his lips brush against mine. An invitation, and one I’m more than happy to oblige. This time, I guide our pace, mouths hungry and wanting, my hands exploring the hard planes of his back and shoulders. He answers easily but doesn’t push. Instead, I take us deeper, dropping my hand to his ass and pulling him against me. His mouth trails to my neck, searing my skin with kisses and small nips. It’s all I can do not to moan. His fingers slide beneath my tank, over the bare skin of my lower back, as his lips blaze a path over my shoulder and collarbone. My knees weaken, and I hold onto him as every nerve ending sparks with pleasure.

  I’m ready to explode when he gently pulls back, drawing his hands up to my shoulders. “I’d love to enjoy you even more, but I’m not sure if you
’d want that on camera,” he says softly. He glances over at Ger, who calls, “Cut!”

  Christ, I’d forgotten where we are.

  Fabulous.

  My skin inflames with embarrassment. “Good point.” I force a grin against my stiff cheeks, stepping out of his embrace. “That was fun.”

  Those unique eyes of his—both green and gold—meet mine, a hint of confusion in their depths. But he masks his bafflement quickly. “It was. Thank you.” He nods his head slightly, punctuating his words. Ger sidles up to him, and I use that as an opening to escape.

  Lux grabs my hands. “Oh. My. God. That was hot.” She smiles. “Who knew my sister had all that sexy Dom in her? Damn.”

  I’m too shaken by the experience to make jokes. “Can we go?”

  She cocks her head, not sure how to take my reaction, probably. “Sure. Let me just say goodbye.”

  “Fine. I’ll wait outside.” I nearly run for the door, hoping I remember which way to turn to get to the exit. The bright morning sun offers a beacon, and I leave the building as though someone’s chasing me. In the intense heat of my car, the sun beating through the windows, I drop my head in my hands. What on earth did I just do? I shouldn’t berate myself: if a customer came into my shop and told me of a similar experience, I’d herald her as liberated and enjoying her sexuality. But it’s been so long since I experienced lust and wanting, and some part of me feels wrong for enjoying it. Especially under the circumstances—a public display like that? Even worse, I can’t remember his name. Corey? No. Casey? Crap. It had a hard “C” sound. Who makes out with someone and doesn’t have something as basic as the person’s identity memorized?

  Lux joins me minutes later, interrupting my self-flagellation. “You totally floored them in there. I think Kai is still recovering.”

  That’s his name. Kai. His name rolls over my silent tongue, the hard i worth savoring. I shake myself. “Good to know. Where to next?”

 

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