Caress: The Nora Heat Collection

by Shanora Williams

  Nicole came into view and looked at me, her phone glued to her ear. She narrowed her brows when she saw me, looking around the room before lowering her phone, covering the receiver, and asking, “What’s wrong? You look bothered.”

  I shook my head. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

  She still seemed concerned, but I was relieved she was on an important call. “Yeah, I’m still here,” she said, putting the phone to her ear again. She gave me a sideways glance, and then marched down the stairs.

  I looked at Kobe’s door, unleashing the trapped breath in my lungs, wanting so badly to run to his room and beg him for more.

  Sheesh. What in the hell was this man doing to me?

  By the time the sun had set, people were already making their way through the doors of Dad’s mansion, dressed in expensive designer clothes and smelling like expensive cologne and perfume.

  This was the part I always liked—dressing up for the big occasion, everyone gathering under the large, white canopy tent with drinks in hand, listening to the live band play and a bartender serve drinks up at the built-in bar.

  Nicole helped me pick out the dress I was wearing—a red off-the- shoulder half-sleeve asymmetrical dress that led into a train in the back, but still showed my legs in the front. It was formal, simple, and still sexy.

  I stood by the bar, next to Nicole while she spoke to a few Beverly Hills realtors, scanning the area. I looked at the patio door and finally saw the man I was looking for.

  Kobe.

  He stepped out in something I never thought I’d see him in—a suit. And along with that suit? A red tie. Red. It surprised me. It’s like we’d read each other’s minds.

  He walked by several of the guests, pulling at the collar of his shirt, sighing hard when he found a quiet, empty space by one of the tent poles. I lifted my glass of champagne and sipped from it. Like he was looking for me too, he scanned the perimeter before finally locking on me. His gaze swooped up and down. His eyes seemed hungry then, filled with a scorching fire I knew all too well.

  The same fire that blazed when he took that first stroke inside me, or watched me while his head was between my legs.

  He swallowed hard and I smirked over my glass.

  It didn’t take long for that to be interrupted. Dad met up with him, stealing his attention, and shook his hand while talking rapidly. Kobe didn’t look at me once while my dad spoke to him.

  The party became loud and a little busier after about an hour. There were several tables set up where people played Poker, their winnings becoming donations to the charity. They were having fun, but I wasn’t having nearly as much fun as I could have been.

  I pulled my cellphone out of my clutch after grabbing my third drink, feeling a tad tipsy at that point, and sent Kobe a ridiculous text.

  Me: Meet me upstairs?

  I found him across the way, and watched as he retrieved his phone. He checked it and then lifted his head, glaring and shaking his head. He looked down, his thumbs clicking on the phone, before tucking it into his back pocket.

  My phone vibrated.

  Kobe: I’m working

  I rolled my eyes and he looked away.

  “Ugh.” He was such a buzz kill.

  Just as I started sipping my champagne, a hand touched my shoulder and I turned around, meeting familiar blue eyes. It was Mr. Clement. He lived in the house next door. I smiled when I saw him and he did the same.

  I remembered Mr. Clement well. He wasn’t much older than me—only thirty. I met him when I was twenty and had spent the summer here before a three-week work trip to Belize. He ran the beach every morning and I would watch him because he had the most amazing body. He wasn’t married—an billionaire architect who had a hectic schedule—and he had no kids. I also had a raging crush on him when I was younger, but that dimmed down when my life became just as hectic.

  “Chanel,” he sang my name, smiling with his pearly white teeth. His blond hair was styled with gel, and he wore an immaculate three-piece suit. In his hand was a short tumbler filled halfway with amber liquid. “My, how you’ve grown.”

  I grinned, blushed. “Nice seeing you, Mr. Clement.”

  “Pleasure’s all mine.” He grabbed my hand and kissed the back of it. “I’m always glad when your father hosts this charity event here.”

  “Yeah? Why is that?” I tilted my head when he released my hand.

  “Because it always gives us a chance to catch up.”

  Indeed it did. Though I used to have a crush on Mr. Clement, it sort of faded when I realized how arrogant he was. And also, when I realized he was single because he was one of the biggest playboys in Beverly Hills. I remembered seeing the various women leaving his house every weekend. A different one every time, from brunette, to blonde, and even a few red-heads here and there.

  It was a bit of a turn off, but he was still very, very attractive.

  “Yeah,” I responded, “it is nice.”

  “So, how have you been? I saw your article in that magazine. Read it too. You’re doing really well for yourself, I see.”

  I nodded. “I guess you could say that.”

  “Oh, please. Don’t be modest. Your dad was just telling me how hard you’ve been working.”

  “Staying as busy as I can. How have things been with work? Playboy Architecture, right?” I asked, teasing.

  Mr. Clement chuckled, running his eyes all over me. I felt someone looking at me from the right, and glanced over, spotting Kobe. His brows knitted, lips smashed together.

  His head shook once, like he was telling me to walk away from Mr. Clement, but Mr. Clement was our guest, and quite frankly, he couldn’t tell me what to do. Plus, Mr. Judas Clement always gave us a generous donation for the charity.

  Kobe didn’t want to meet me upstairs so he could go and fuck himself.

  I looked away from Kobe, focusing on Mr. Clement again. Mr. Clement filled me in on his job, talking about some new digital architecture software that I honestly couldn’t have cared less about. “Can I get you another champagne?” he asked.

  I smiled. “Sure.”

  He winked, and I was sure I would have melted me into a pile of goo four years ago. I don’t know why it didn’t do much for me now. Probably because I was too infatuated with the man I knew was still staring a hole into the side of my head.

  “I’ll be right back,” Mr. Clement said. He took off, walking around me and toward the bar.

  I sat in one of the chairs, looking for Kobe but he was nowhere in sight. Sighing, I pulled my phone out, but before I could click on any of the apps, a hand wrapped around my arm and tugged me up.

  “Let’s go,” Kobe growled.

  He released my arm, pressing his hand to the small of my back and forcing me to walk ahead of him. “Kobe, what the hell are you doing?” I hissed over my shoulder, putting on a fake smile for the guests.

  Kobe kept his eyes ahead, like he didn’t give a damn who was watching. For all he knew, Dad could have been watching, wondering what he was doing with me. I kept walking to make things seem more casual.

  Kobe forced me along to the patio door and we walked inside. As soon as we were clear of people, he scooped me up in his arms and stormed up the stairs.

  “Kobe, are you fucking crazy?” I snapped, trying to squirm my way out of his arms.

  “Maybe,” he grumbled, reaching the top of the staircase and marching down the hallway. He went all the way down until we reached a set of double doors. He pushed the doors open with his fingertips and we were on one of the terraces, overlooking the ocean.

  Placing me on my feet, he asked in an irritated voice, “What the hell do you think you’re doing down there?”

  I frowned, folding my arms. “What are you talking about?”

  “Down there with that man. Flirting with him in my fucking face. Who the hell is he anyway?”

  “He lives next door, and we were having a normal, civilized conversation. No one was flirting, Kobe.” Okay, maybe just a little. On purpos
e. To get his attention.

  “He went to the bar to get you another drink. I know what he’s trying to do—get you drunk just to take you home with him.”

  I rolled my eyes, about to step around him. “I seriously don’t have time for this right now.”

  Before I could get away, Kobe caught the hook of my arm and whirled me around, causing my body to clash into his. Without hesitation, he picked me up by the waist and placed my back on the house wall to the right of the door.

  He pushed between my legs as I gasped, and his lips came crashing down on mine. He sucked my bottom lip into his mouth, tasting the champagne on my lips, before devouring me whole, sliding his tongue through and tasting all of me.

  The hand I had pressed on his chest wavered and I sighed instead, wrapping my legs around his waist after he lifted the skirt of my dress. His hand went down to my panties and he pushed them aside.

  “How many times do I need to tell you?” he grumbled on my mouth, his hands working to undo his belt and pants. “You aren’t sharing your body with anyone else while I’m around. You’re fucking mine, Chanel. He’s not taking you home.”

  “You’re jealous,” I breathed.

  His jaw tensed, his head doing a swift shake. “This is exactly what you wanted. For me to get annoyed and find a place to fuck you.”

  I smiled at that, raking my fingers through his hair. “Maybe,” I mimicked, and he groaned, crushing my lips again, not even waiting to slide his cock into me.

  I gasped behind his lips as he sunk deeper, fucking me on the wall, on the terrace, in front of the ocean. I could hear the people downstairs, laughing and partying. I could imagine Mr. Clement looking for me with that drink in his hand, not even knowing I was upstairs getting fucked by my jealous bodyguard.

  Kobe Ward.

  The only man I wanted.

  “No one gets to have you but me, Chanel,” he growled on my lips. “Your body—this pussy—is mine. All fucking mine. I will rip a motherfucker to shreds if he tries getting close to it.”

  I moaned, loving how possessive he sounded while inside me, aching for him, needing him deeper. Like he could read my mind, his cock ground it’s way in, slamming up, and I wrapped my arms tighter around the back of his neck.

  “Oh, fuck,” I hissed, dragging my lips over to kiss him again. He felt so big and swollen inside me. And the way he groaned, like he loved how I felt –would never get enough of me—made me shatter into a million pieces.

  This man truly owned me, marking me, making me his and I didn’t mind it one bit.

  I squealed his name as the music got louder, and he pressed me harder against the wall, his body quaking, as he came too.

  I swear each time with him was better than the last. My body sagged as I rested my cheek on his shoulder, feeling nothing but satisfaction.

  After we caught our breaths, Kobe placed my feet on the ground and stepped back, adjusting his pants, and then buttoning them.

  “I don’t know what the hell you’re doing to me,” he mumbled, more to himself than to me.

  I grinned at that, fixing my panties and dress.

  “I better not see you flirt with him again tonight,” he said, voice stern and deep.

  “And if I do?” I tested, smirking.

  “Then you’ll get fucked again.” He looked me over. “But I suppose that’s exactly what you want from me.”

  I walked to the door with a smile. “I should get back to the party before Dad notices both of us are missing.”

  Kobe did a small nod and I walked away with a wide smile on my lips. When I made it back to the party, I purposely avoided Mr. Clement. Honestly, I don’t think he cared. It didn’t take him very long to find the next single woman in a red dress.

  I went to the bar for a drink and sat at one of the empty tables, taking several sips of the bubbly drink. Nicole popped up seconds later with a drink in her hand, sitting right next to me. “Great turnout,” she noted.

  “Yeah. It’s awesome. I know Dad is happy. Mom would be too.”

  “Yeah. No doubt.” She sipped at her drink. “So, the mystery guy I was trying to figure out the other day—the one who gave you a hickey. It’s Kobe?”

  When she said that, my heart froze. I looked into the blue eyes that were already fixed on mine.

  Holy. Shit.

  She knew.

  TWENTY-ONE

  Chanel

  “I really thought he would be better. Keep his distance. But a man is a man, I guess,” she sighed.

  “H-how did you know?” I stuttered. Shit shit shit! This wasn’t good.

  “Saw him take you upstairs. Went up there but didn’t get very far down the hallway before hearing the sounds you two were making.”

  Oh my god. I was so embarrassed. My eyes shifted to the door, and Kobe was walking out. He looked at me. I looked at him. Then he saw Nicole right beside me and pulled away, focusing on something else.

  “Don’t tell Dad, Nicole,” I pleaded.

  “He’ll find out eventually, Chanel. It’s not healthy to have a bodyguard who’s also having sex with you. His priorities will get mixed up and feelings always get in the way with jobs like these. What if you get tired of him and bring other guys around? He seems like the type to get controlling—to blow up. He could be just like Matt, or worse. Unlike Matt, Kobe has had a taste—several, I’m assuming—and won’t be so easy to keep away.”

  “No, stop it. Kobe is nothing like Matt. He’s not crazy.” I blew a hard breath. “It’s not going to last forever. He already said that it’s just sex. That’s it and I see it the same way.”

  She narrowed her eyes at me. “Do you really?”

  I nodded, but I felt my gut clench from the thought of this ever ending—and it’d only just begun.

  Nicole sighed, pushing back in her chair. “I won’t tell your dad. I’m your manager and I’m legally bound to keep your affairs confidential, but you have to end it as soon as possible, Chanel. No more fooling around. This will fuck you and your reputation up and you know it. It will also ruin his if word gets out that he was having sex with his client, then no one will trust him enough to hire him again. There are eyes and ears everywhere. It doesn’t seem like anyone is watching, but there is always someone watching you, Chanel. I only have your best interest in mind so I’m telling you, end it. I know it’s fun and probably makes you feel like a new woman or whatever, but none of that matters. You have to let it go. And when you do, we’ll hire another bodyguard eventually.” She rolled her eyes. “Next time I’ll make sure it’s a woman.”

  With those words, she left, weaving through the tables, past Kobe who she gave a sideways glance to, and then meeting up at Dad’s side.

  I sat back in my chair, picking up my glass and downing the rest of my drink.

  Suddenly, my buzz was gone.

  The high I had from that quick fuck on the terrace? Gone.

  My mood had gone from a hundred and plummeted to zero in a flash.

  TWENTY-TWO

  Kobe

  We went home early the next morning, and Chanel was much quieter than usual. She didn’t sneak into my bedroom after the party was over and everyone had left. Hell, I don’t even know why I expected her too. I didn’t hear a peep from her after the party, which kind of worried me.

  I tossed our suitcases in the trunk and instead of getting in the front seat, I got in the back, beside her.

  She had her headphones on again, clearly a thing she did when she didn’t feel like talking or being bothered. The driver drove us to the airport, and even during the flight, she was solemn.

  Something had shifted between last night on the terrace and now. I thought she loved what I did to her on that terrace. A quick thought took over, and I assumed maybe her ex-boyfriend had contacted her again. I fucking hoped not.

  We made it to the apartment building, riding in the elevator alone. Before she could unlock her door, I let out a hard breath.

  “Chanel, come on,” I said, slightly irritat
ed at this point. “I let you have your quiet time on the flight and during the ride here.” I took a step forward as she looked up at me with glassy eyes. “What the hell happened? You’ve hardly even looked at me.”

  She shrugged, pulling her eyes away. “Nothing happened, Kobe. I’m fine.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “No, I’m not. I just think—” she hesitated “—maybe we should stop whatever this is now.”

  I narrowed my eyes at her. “Stop this?” I repeated. “Why?”

  She was quiet, lips sealed, eyes far away from mine.

  “Fuck, please don’t tell me you’re messing with your ex again.”

  “What?” she spat. “No!” She turned to face me. Releasing the handle of her suitcase, she rushed toward me, cupping one side of my face. “Damn it, Kobe. I like you a lot. I really do. But you told me you need this job, that it was a fresh start, so I want you to keep it.” Her gaze lowered as she swallowed thickly. “Nicole knows about us.”

  “What? How?” I leaned back a little to get a better look at her.

  “She saw you take me upstairs last night…heard us on the terrace. She told me she wouldn’t tell my dad, but only if I ended whatever this is between us. I made an agreement with her last night that if I stopped this completely, she would let you keep the job.”

  I blinked rapidly. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. She started pulling away, and losing her touch felt like I was losing breath. What the hell was happening?

  Instead of feeling the ache in my chest, I should have been glad about this. I was getting another chance to do things right. She was pulling back and I didn’t want her to.

  “You’ll keep your job, take care of yourself and whatever it is you’re hiding,” she said quietly.

  “I’m not hiding anything, Chanel. I told you, it’s personal. And I don’t like talking about it.”

  “Well, why can’t you just lower your damn guard and talk about it with me? It’s not like I’m going to tell anyone! Who else do I talk to besides Skye? I won’t tell her. I know I’m younger than you, and may seem naïve, but I’m not stupid and I’m not the woman the media tries to portray me as—just breasts, a nice ass, and great hair.” She scoffed. “But that’s how you see me, right?”