She's The One

by Bronwyn Stuart

  She threw her hands in the air and with a frustrated squeak, said, ‘What do you want me to say, Banjo? That my job means more to me than sex with you? That my dad means more to me than having you rip my heart from my chest? That I want you but I’m terrified to risk everything I’ve worked so hard to get, just for a quickie with the Ice Bullet?’

  His jaw ticked as he clenched his teeth together. He slowly unfolded his arms and took three steps toward her. Eliza was breathing hard, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears, her hands trembling. ‘I asked you what you had to lose by giving me a chance. You’re just giving me excuses. Why can’t you just let it all go? Even just for one night? I promise it won’t be a quickie.’

  A single drop of moisture rolled down her cheek. ‘Because that’s all you’re capable of, Banjo. One night isn’t enough for me.’

  ‘Maybe one night isn’t enough for me either.’ And then he pressed his lips to hers. She must have been so close to the edge, in seconds she melted into him with a half sob, half groan, her arms around his neck, her hands in his hair, desperation of a different kind taking over.

  Banjo tasted chocolate on her tongue as he delved into her mouth over and over. He was starving and she was the key to his survival in those fraught moments. He left her lips and kissed a wet trail down her throat, almost holding her up as she made little noises and tried to pull him closer.

  ‘Let me make love to you, Eliza,’ he breathed against her satiny skin, pulling the top of her summer dress to the side so he could capture one pebbled nipple between his teeth through the scrap of lace barely covering her.

  She arched and cried out; it was all the encouragement he needed. Banjo bent and scooped her into his arms, carrying her up a short flight of stairs to his bedroom, stopping only to kiss her, distract her, keep her from changing her mind.

  When they reached the plush carpet and the dark room, Banjo slid her down his body and let her go to switch the bedside lamp on. He turned back to her, hoping like hell she was still there and not about to reject him again and run into the night. He had to make sure she wanted this as much as he did even if it killed him. He raked both hands hard through his hair, pulling on the strands. ‘God, I need you so bad, Eliza. But you have to want me too. You have to want to give this thing a go. A real go.’

  He held his breath as her hands went to the zip at the side of her dress. Over her head it sailed to the floor, leaving her in a lacy red thong and matching bra. ‘I don’t want to talk or think anymore. I just want you to touch me, Banjo. Make me forget everything else.’

  In her thoughts, he wondered if she added for just one night. It was certainly there in her eyes but he’d show her how good they could be together. He’d show her he was a man worthy of a woman like her.

  The three steps between them evaporated in a heartbeat, mouths crashing together, bodies flush, temperatures high. Banjo started with his hands on her cheeks, tilting her head so he could take the kiss deeper, feel more of her. He ended with his hands on her arse, pulling her against his rock-hard erection. Her legs wrapped around his waist as he lifted her. God, she was hot everywhere, warm to touch and smoking to watch. When Eliza ground against him, he lifted a hand to unsnap her bra, the fabric loosening around her back but there was no room between them. Her breasts and stomach pressed against his chest and abdomen so he couldn’t look his fill, couldn’t lick and nibble.

  Lowering her down onto the quilt on the bed, Banjo licked his lips, rising to slip the bra from her arms and stare in wonder. She was absolutely perfect. Her nipples were round and dusky, her stomach flat where it needed to be and slightly ridged with muscle, another tattoo, another symbol that was all her. He skated his palms lightly over her flesh, his fingers trailing behind as she shivered beneath him.

  ‘You’re beautiful,’ he said, tracing circles around her belly button, bigger and bigger, closer and closer to the edge of her panties until she squirmed against him.

  ‘And you’re wearing more clothes than you should be,’ she said in response.

  He hooked his thumbs into the lace either side of her hips and pulled gently. ‘So are you.’

  Chapter 16

  In only seconds, she was completely naked, set out before him, all smooth skin and pink flesh. Her legs were silky as he pushed on the inside of her thighs, opening her more, revealing glistening moisture through barely there hair. She was ready for him. He could slide into her and relieve the ache he’d lived with for the last few weeks. But that wouldn’t be as much fun.

  Adjusting his cock through the front of his shorts, he found a comfortable position and shuffled so his knees were on the carpet. He stroked one finger over her, slick and hot and eager, and repeated the action with his tongue. She bucked her hips as her fingers tangled in the bed coverings.

  Her words were unintelligible, mixed with groans, and maybe the Lord’s name once or twice. He parted her with his hands, thumbs perilously close to her clit, licking and laving and sucking.

  ‘More,’ Eliza cried out and lifted her upper body, guiding his hand to her entrance and thrusting his finger inside. ‘I need more.’

  He didn’t need to be told twice. He sat back and played, watched, entranced by the shift of her muscles, both inside and out. He added a second finger to her heat, working a delicious rhythm of pleasure for her, pain for him. When he put his mouth on her again, sucking hard and not letting up, she bucked again, once, twice, wild beneath him, and with a groan and a final shudder, she fell back in a heap, breathing hard, convulsing around his fingers and against his lips.

  ‘Holy shit,’ she whispered. It might have been his overinflated ego, but he wondered if anyone had taken her over the edge like he just had.

  Banjo moved back up her body, licking another circle around her belly button, sucking on first one nipple and then the other while she caught her breath. ‘I take it you liked that?’ he chuckled against her collarbone.

  ‘Liked it would be an understatement. Your reputation is well deserved.’

  He ground into her hard and said, ‘You ain’t seen nothing yet.’

  She laughed softly, her hands rising to sneak beneath his shirt. ‘Maybe you’re all talk and that was all you had?’

  Banjo raised a brow before ripping the shirt off over his head, craving the feel of skin-to-skin contact. He didn’t let her get any more words in for a while, kissing her again and again, only coming up for a quick breath of air before diving back in. He could do it all day and all night. Kiss Eliza.

  ‘Roll over,’ she said with a nudge to his shoulder.

  ‘Am I squashing you?’

  ‘No. I want to see you too. Take your shorts off. Now.’

  ‘Bossy little thing when you don’t get your way, aren’t you.’

  A small smile played on her lips. ‘I’m pretty sure I’m going to get my way.’

  He’d do anything for her in that moment and they both knew it. He shucked off his boardies and boxers in one quick movement and then rolled onto his back, his erection stiff and proud, standing to attention.

  Eliza had never felt so empowered as she did right then. Banjo was placing his trust in her just as she had with him. At first she’d wanted to cover herself, pink with equal warring amounts of embarrassment and desire, but then he’d gone down on her and she couldn’t think at all, not even a little bit. Her body thrummed and her blood sang. She wasn’t surprised when her sex throbbed, wanting more. Wanting completion.

  ‘I want to return the favour,’ she said, eyeing his erection as her pulse leapt and raced. She leaned over him and took him in her mouth. She’d never been this bold with a bed partner. She wasn’t a prude so much as none of the others had turned her on the way Banjo did. Two weeks of waiting did things to her. She sucked, just once, and then rose up and positioned him against her entrance. ‘But I can’t wait any longer.’

  His hands gripped her hips hard and she wondered if he would just thrust into her, taking control. But he held her still. ‘I don’t have a condom.
Fuck.’

  ‘We’re both clean,’ she said, surprising herself. She was on the pill so she was covered for pregnancy but she’d never had sex without protection. Had he? ‘Have you ever done it without?’

  He shook his head, his fingers spreading over her backside, the muscles in his arms bulging with tension as his cock surged against her folds. ‘I don’t want to stop.’

  Eliza rested her hands on his forearms, looked into his eyes and slowly sank down until she was sitting on him, fully impaled. A sigh slipped from her lips. ‘Neither have I.’ But damn, she liked it. The heat was hotter, the friction more exquisite, the feelings doubled, no tripled.

  Banjo groaned, his lids closing as she lifted until he was almost clear, only to sink back down again.

  He let her get a feel for him. She knew he was indulging her. When he opened his eyes again, Eliza grinned.

  ‘Fuck this,’ Banjo swore, flipping her onto her back quicker than she could even get a squeak out. ‘I wanted to make love to you but I don’t think I can wait either. You make me want to act like the guy everyone thinks I am. I just want to fuck you until you don’t know your own name.’

  A delicious thrill tickled down her spine. ‘Do it. Show me what you got.’

  He moved inside of her, slow and steady to start, and then he found a pace she couldn’t keep up with. He slammed into her with a force that made her breasts bounce and the air to be pushed from her lungs but it was amazing. Tension built within her for a second time as he took her back to the edge. Stars exploded behind her eyelids as her body convulsed and her mind blanked.

  A muffled roar sounded in her ears as he thrust once more, twice, a third time. He cried out her name as he collapsed, spent, breathing hard.

  She would have sworn, as the world came back to rights around her, that he was smiling.

  ***

  In all the years since Banjo had discovered women wanted to jump into bed with him solely due to his looks, fame and fortune, he’d never had an experience like that. Not with anyone. Ever.

  It was so reckless to have unprotected sex but with Eliza it had felt like coming home. It felt right and so, so good. He ran a hand lightly over her lower back, right over her tattoo, felt the ridges and bumps of the skin with the bright ink stamped there; yep, she felt damned good.

  ‘Hmmm,’ she replied on a sleepy sigh. ‘Is it time to go?’

  He bent and kissed his way down her spine, taking advantage of her resting on her stomach. They weren’t kisses designed to work her up again. They were kisses designed to show her how he felt right then, how he’d be happy to stay in bed with her all week and do nothing but kiss and touch. ‘Not yet.’

  She rolled to her side to face him and said, ‘I really should get back before they notice me gone.’

  ‘You really should just stay and let me lick you all over,’ he responded with a nip to her shoulder that he soothed with his tongue. How was it that he was almost ready to go again so soon? It occurred to him that he’d never asked a woman to stay. Usually after a quick nap, he was tossing up ways to get them out.

  With a hand to his shoulder, Eliza pushed him onto his back but instead of climbing onto his lap the way he’d have liked, she jumped from the bed to look for her clothes. He admired her for a moment in the dim light but then he shook himself free. ‘What are we going to do now?’

  She stopped, straightened, looked at him over her bare shoulder. ‘Now?’

  ‘Now that we’ve done this—’ he gestured between them with a grin, ‘—we can’t possibly go on with the show.’

  The shock and sudden fear on Eliza’s features told him he’d said the wrong thing. Her accompanying words confirmed it. ‘What are you talking about? Of course we go on with the show. There’s only a few more tapings and then we’re done. You choose me, we ride off into the sunset on a golden horse, happily ever after for a while.’

  Seriously? ‘Ride off into the sunset? C’mon Eliza, think about it.’

  ‘I’m not kidding about the horse. Malcolm’s idea. I’m not kidding about the taping either. We have to finish the show. This—’ she mimicked his gesture, ‘—doesn’t change anything.’

  Banjo climbed from the bed, got to his feet, put his hands on his hips. ‘Everything has changed. I choose you now. For real. Not for the contract or Malcolm or the show. I want to do this again. And then again and again.’

  Eliza went back to wrenching her clothes on in quick, shaky movements. ‘We both have so much riding on the show, we can’t blow it all for casual sex.’

  Ouch. ‘Casual sex? I’m talking about a relationship. One where we spend time together. Build a life together.’

  ‘In bed?’

  ‘In bed, out of bed, wherever you want, however you want. I really like you, Eliza. I hadn’t expected to actually find someone on a dumb reality show, but here we are.’ He moved closer, put his hands on her hips and pulled her to him. ‘Here you are.’

  ‘Really like isn’t enough to throw away my career. It isn’t enough to throw away your father’s company or my father’s reputation. I want you to promise me you’ll go on with the show. Promise me you’ll play by the rules.’

  With a loud groan, Banjo rested his forehead against Eliza’s. Why did they have to have so many restrictions and rules? Conditions and caveats? Because theirs weren’t the only lives at risk. ‘You ask too much.’ He knew they couldn’t risk being alone again especially at night like this. Someone would notice for sure.

  ‘I’m just asking you to go along with the original plan. Three more weeks, Banjo. Then we can spend a whole week naked if you want. Just do whatever Malcolm and the producers tell you to.’

  A whole week? He’d hold her to that. At least she wasn’t saying no. At least she wasn’t still treating him like all he had in him was playboy sex. ‘So you’re saying you want to give it a go? Us? A real go? Not just a contract for six months?’

  ‘Three more weeks and then we can start something real. Not lying and sneaking about.’

  Banjo tilted her head back with his hands in her hair and kissed her long and hard, trying to keep a smile off his lips as he did. ‘Three more weeks then.’

  As Eliza walked from the room a few minutes later, him lying back on the bed, hands behind his head, complete satisfaction coursing through his veins, she stopped and looked as if she wanted to say something.

  He raised a brow but then she just blew him a kiss and was gone. Sneaking back to her room and then other girls he didn’t give a damn about. Three weeks was way too long. Two hours was going to be difficult. He’d made a promise though. A promise he had every intention of seeing through.

  Chapter 17

  Eliza’s first thought as she woke the next morning was that she could get used to feeling well loved. Her nipples still tingled and her thighs were begging to be squeezed together against the thrum of satisfaction and anticipation way down low. For a little while she just lay there and let her mind wander. What would it be like to wake up next to Banjo? Would he wait for her eyes to flutter open or would he wake her with hands and fingers and those hot, wet open-mouthed kisses?

  Damn, she was going to combust. Eliza made quick work of a cold shower and got dressed for another day by the pool making small talk and gushing over Banjo with the other girls. She was going to have to be careful now not to give the game away. Not to reveal she knew him so much more intimately now. Even more, she was going to have to be careful not to get all dreamy and reveal that she was falling hard. Harder than she’d ever thought possible. She hadn’t grown up with any positive relationships to aspire to, to dream of or want. Sure, she’d watched movies and read books but it wasn’t the same. Her mother had never had sex with a guy on their kitchen counter. Eliza had never witnessed her with a dreamy, faraway expression as she remembered dates long past.

  She’d only ever been lectured on the merits of celibacy and never, ever letting a man ruin her life or her prospects. But Banjo would never do that to her. She knew that now. Th
e way he looked at her and had treated her last night wasn’t that of a playboy. It was the actions of a man. She wouldn’t say a man in love. He’d said he really liked her. She really liked him too. Or was it more than that for her? She tried not to think about it too much as she tripped lightly down the stairs to the kitchen.

  The scene before her stopped her short and a curse fell from her lips. The f-word she never used but had obviously saved for this very occasion.

  ‘Malcolm? What are you doing here?’

  Allison and Sofia sat at the counter laughing at something Malcolm had said right before Eliza had come into the room. He was making coffee by the looks of it, charming the two women before him young enough to be his daughters.

  ‘Eliza, there you are. I was just in the neighbourhood.’

  She crossed her arms over her chest and shot him a glare. ‘You live in Sydney.’

  ‘Okay, okay —’ he held his hands in the air in mock surrender, ‘—you called so many times, I thought it might be important so I flew up for a few days.’

  She didn’t buy a word of it. She was tempted to tell him he could have just called back but then something flashed across his expression and she bit her tongue.

  He spoke again before she could. ‘Come for a walk with me? You can fill me in on what’s been happening around here.’

  Like he wouldn’t have had a minute-by-minute play-by-play from Amanda. She forced a smile. ‘I’ll just grab my hat.’

  Her first words once they were out of earshot of anyone else was, ‘What are you really doing here, Malcolm?’

  ‘I thought you were going to call me “Dad” when we’re alone.’

  ‘You shouldn’t have come. The other girls are going to get all pissy. They had just started to forget that I’m your daughter.’

  ‘Were you?’

  She stopped walking and met his frank gaze. ‘What?’

  ‘Do you want to hear about the other message I got yesterday? Apart from the seven you left?’

  She gulped. Yesterday. That was before last night at least. She nodded.