by Rexi Lake
IT WAS A WEEK BEFORE she returned to the mansion. I’d fantasized long and hard about her being at my feet. Hell, when her hand had brushed against my cock, I’d been more than ready to take her. I’d never been so thankful for my training in self-restraint and decorum. It had taken all of my control to stay in control. But the minute she was out of the house, I’d found release with my hand and the images she’d put in my head. Images that continued to swirl around there, despite the cold showers I’d been taking.
“She’s here, Starla,” I said. I’d known she would be coming soon, so I’d stood watching at the window like a stalker.
“You should ask her out,” Starla answered. Her pretty blue eyes were as clear as her voice. Those eyes were as guileless as the rest of her. She truly had no desire to be famous for money or prestige. She wanted to sing. She wanted to share her voice. And she did that. All the money she made, it was sent to various charities across the world to help those less fortunate. Children were gifted books and healthcare, homeless people received blankets and sandwiches, animals were rescued and healed. She didn’t keep a dime for herself outside of what was used to pay her staff.
“You know I can’t do that,” I reminded her.
“You could,” she said. “I think she’s trustworthy enough. I could leave the spotlight. We could go home.”
Damn, her offer was tempting. I missed home. I knew Starla missed it too. “I know you would give it up, Little Star. But are you really ready to do that? Once we go home, that’s it.” I hated to remind her of that. Watching the light fade from her eyes was hard.
“Maybe they’ve changed their minds?” she asked.
I raised a brow.
She sighed.
Yeah, we both knew the answer to that. Her parents were as stubborn as she was. I was surprised they’d let her go so long already. But I guess making a name for herself played a part in them keeping a distance and letting her have her moment. If she disappeared suddenly, the media would be all over that story. If Starla Night was going to disappear from the spotlight, she’d have to do it herself. No one could take her from it.
“I’m sure she’s waiting by now. We should go.” She stood and slipped her shoes on. When it was just us, she wore comfortable clothes. Loungepants and soft shirts that were made to look designer but were actually softer than pajamas and perfect for staying comfortable. But if anyone else was around, she was Miss Starla Night, and she dressed the part.
I was glad that being her bodyguard gave me more freedom with my wardrobe. I wore a suit or tux when she attended events. But at the house, I was in jeans and a t-shirt.
We entered the room Starla used for Drew to work her magic. Sure enough, the designer was there and waiting.
“I put your dress behind the screen, Miss Night.”
Fuck me. That voice was just a little bit breathless, like she’d been fucked nice and hard and was still trying to catch her breath after screaming my name as she came.
And just like that, my cock was hard and aching. I tried to think about something else, but quite frankly, when she was around, I forgot about the rest of the world. She was my focus.
“I have your tux ready as well, Mr. Montgomery.”
I blinked at the name. I wasn’t sure I’d ever heard her address me directly. I smiled at her as I took the hanger she held out. “Thank you, Miss Stella.”
She blushed and nodded before turning away from me. I knew she was as affected as I was. She turned red more often than not whenever she glanced in my direction. It was hard not to imagine what thoughts might be running through her mind. Were they the same as mine? Did she fantasize about me like I did about her?
Instead of grabbing her and pulling her into me, I turned and left the room to put on the clothes she’d made. I had no doubt they would fit perfectly. One thing Drew was great at was making clothes. She rarely had to adjust Starla’s more than the hem, which I think she actually left undone.
Sure enough, the pants and shirt, which were literally made for me, fit perfectly. I shrugged into the jacket and had to grin. The sleeves weren’t finished. Neither were the hemlines on the pants. Yep, Miss Stella did indeed leave things undone so she had something to do.
I walked back into the room and saw that Starla’s dress was perfect. Now that her hem was finished, the dress was done except for a final press. She stood in front of a long mirror and I watched as Drew placed a light shawl around her shoulders that was obviously made from some extra netting that perfectly matched the gown, even down to some crystals sewn in for effect .
“I also made a clutch as well for you so you can have a few items at hand should you need them,” she was telling Star.
“You have outdone yourself, as usual, Miss Stella.” The smile and bright eyes that reflected in the mirror’s surface told me just how pleased Starla was with her newest dress. She’d always loved the story of Cinderella. She’d dressed up like her often enough growing up. It didn’t surprise me in the least when she’d asked for a midnight, starlight ball gown with real diamonds. Her favorite part of all had always been that ball gown. A dress fit for a princess and sparkling like magic.
“Thank you, Miss Night.” Drew was obviously happy with the work too. I had to wonder if she had any clothing she made for herself like that. She would look magical in a ball gown.
I realized I’d never seen her in anything other than her usual leggings and a long cut shirt. Did she go out? Did she dress up? What she wore to work was comfortable and easy to move around in. Definitely easy to kneel in, which she did often to do Star’s hems.
I almost groaned as she bent to adjust Star’s skirt and promptly gave me a view of her ass that chased all reasonable thoughts from my head.
I cleared my throat and she jumped.
“My apologies,” I said, “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“N-no.” She shook her head. “You didn’t.” Her eyes darted away from mine and that blush of hers worked its way up into her cheeks again. “Um, please, stand on the dais and I’ll be just a moment to fit your sleeves and pants.”
I nodded, still smiling. She might not be looking at me anymore, but I wasn’t going to look away from her. I might not be able to have her, but I sure as hell would enjoy the sight of her.
CHAPTER FOUR ~ Drew
Oh, holy hotness. I had to blast my AC when I finally made it back to my car. I don’t think Tate stopped looking at me once. And he’d been doing it like he was willing and ready to devour me whole. Not that I was opposed to it, of course. Except that he was Starla’s. Right?
Or, maybe he wasn’t?
I didn’t know. I had no idea about either of them. They were as mysterious to me as they were to the rest of the world. For all that I had been in the house and been up close and personal with both of them, I had no clue who they were.
A part of me was glad about that. My NDA specifically stated that I couldn’t talk to reporters or journalists, or even friends and family, about my job or anything I saw. Not that I really had many friends or any family. The few reporters that had tried to get me to say anything had quickly learned to steer clear of me after I’d shattered a few cameras and busted a few balls.
Literally.
Of course, it wasn’t my fault that they jumped out at me from the bushes. What sane woman wouldn’t react with a hard left and a groin shot? Okay, maybe I was a little aggressive, but word to the wise: don’t jump out of bushes at people. It’s dangerous.
Of course, even if someone had approached me nicely, I had nothing to say. I didn’t even know what the woman’s favorite drink was. Or if she had a television. I walked in, saw the foyer, walked down a hall and into a room that was specifically set up to be a fitting room. It had a screen for her to change, a dais for her to stand on so I could fit her, it even had a small supply of items for me to use if I needed extra pins or something. The mirror was big and ornate, but even I could tell it wasn’t a family heirloom or something crazy expensive. If anything
, it was probably the cheapest thing in the room. Might have been a thrift store find, if I didn’t know better.
And I knew my thrift stores. I liked them, actually. They had all sorts of crazy and interesting things that people just didn’t keep for themselves. Vintage styles that weren’t in anymore. Trinkets and teacups and items that had no real purpose in people’s lives now. But they had their own charm and they told their own stories to me. And they often inspired some of my designs. Even if I couldn’t design for anyone else besides Starla, I could still design for myself. And I did.
I had a plethora of designs. Not just sketches and drawings, but full samples made up and notes on every stitch and even a few patterns. I’d bought myself a course on uploading designs into software and whenever I wasn’t beholden to that contract I’d signed, I would be ready to dive straight into the whole world of fashion with enough designs to shoot me to the top.
Or, at least, that was the plan. It wouldn’t really go so well for me if I didn’t get out of my contract until I was eighty or something. That would kind of kill my prospects of fashion designer stardom. But, it didn’t hurt to dream, right? That’s what being in this world allowed me to do. It allowed me to dream, and it allowed me to choose myself.
FINISHING TATE’S TUX took me less time than I’d actually said it would. But I wasn’t ready to be back in that man’s presence too quickly. He was devastating me. The fact that he’d started talking to me made it so much harder to concentrate. As it was, I was starting to think about possibilities that I really shouldn’t consider. I’d moved beyond the fantasies of just physical satisfaction and started to wonder about the rest of it too. You know, the emotions and happiness thing that comes from a relationship?
Driving back to the mansion for Tate’s final fitting, I was reminded about something El had once said, right before she took off to her new home - sorry, her castle. She’d said something about believing in miracles and being willing to grab your moment. She’d had a little extra help with that, but even without a fairy godmother, I was pretty sure I could do something.
Maybe?
I was definitely going to try.
I think.
I had a plan. I just wasn’t so sure I’d go through with it.
MY HANDS WEREN’T THE steadiest as I checked the lines on Tate’s jacket. The sleeves were perfect, and the fit made me wish I would get a chance to dance with him. At the ball.
Okay, so maybe I didn’t quite leave everything behind me from my fairytale days. That whole desire to be the belle of the ball? It was still there. Wanting a prince to sweep me off my feet and carry me away? Yeah, that was still there too. Damn me.
“It looks good. How does it feel?” I asked.
He moved his arms a bit and shrugged his shoulders. And, holy hell, did that do things to me that I did not need. Shivers ran down my spine and I’m pretty sure there were goosebumps along my arms. I didn’t look down to see. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his shoulders. I bet he could pick me up easily. Could probably slam me against a wall and fuck me hard without breaking a sweat.
Woah! Back up, brain.
I cleared my throat and looked around the room. We were alone again. Starla had shown up a few moments after he’d put the jacket on, approved the ensemble, and disappeared again. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear she was leaving us alone on purpose.
“It’s perfect.”
That brought my attention back to him. Praise. A weakness of mine. I hadn’t had enough of it from my mother. Not real praise, at least. But from Tate? That was something I would lap up like a cat with a bowl of cream. It was music to my ears and fed the starving soul inside me that wanted his notice.
“Thank you,” I managed to utter.
I took a breath. I needed to get my libido and my confidence in sync. If the StoryTeller could hear me now, she’d wonder what had happened to her loud-mouthed character. The words were there in my head, I just couldn’t seem to get them to come out of my mouth right.
“Let me help you get off.” Shit! “The jacket,” I added quickly, reaching my hands up, and up some more, to his shoulders. He was grinning in the mirror and my face was flaming red. But I helped pull it from his arms and then I turned around, squeezing my eyes shut and trying to pull myself back together. I expected him to go behind the screen and undress, but when I turned back from hanging up the jacket, he was still standing there. His bow tie was undone, and a few of the top buttons of the shirt, and I wanted to press my lips against that spot and taste him.
I didn’t, of course. Instead I just stood there and waited. He looked like he wanted to say something, but I had no idea what. And I wasn’t sure what he was waiting for.
Holding my tongue, because quite frankly, words weren’t my forte with him, I raised a brow. He grinned. Okay, that wasn’t so hard. Maybe I could communicate without words and then I wouldn’t sound like a stuttering fool half the time or blurt out anything inappropriate.
“You did great work pulling this together so quickly,” he said.
I shrugged. It was my job, after all. I was literally paid to only work for Starla. So, if I had something to make for her, it was a top priority. Wasn’t like I was designing for six other people, or even one other person. Except Tate. And anyone else Starla told me to make something for.
“Miss Stella,” he started. “Drew, may I call you Drew?” he asked.
“Sure,” I responded, my brows coming together in a confused frown. Where was he going with this? And also, could he say my name again in that rumbly voice of his?
“Drew,” he said again, answering my unspoken request. “Your work is always spectacular for Starla. I know she appreciates your attention to every detail. Having never been on the receiving end of your work before, I did not realize just how much craftsmanship you have. It’s quite amazing to have something that fits me so well and still allows enough movement for me to do my job.”
My eyes were probably as big as saucers. This was the second time I’d heard him utter so much at once. Wasn’t he supposed to be the strong, silent type? That’s what he’d been for five years. Why the sudden change?
“Thank you,” I said again. “I tried to choose materials that would allow for the movements you might need if Miss Night were to be in a troubling situation.” Okay, that was good. I didn’t stutter and I’d made sense. I’d take it. Even if it was about fabric.
“Your selections were well thought out.”
Again with the compliments. I was going to fall over if he didn’t stop those. Literally. (It’s entirely possible that I say that too much, but I don’t joke about such things. Or exaggerate. I was honestly feeling weak-kneed and a little short of breath.)
“If you’d change, I can ensure this is pressed before I bring it back. I’ll be here to help Miss Night get ready that evening. I’ll bring both ensembles with me then.”
He nodded and disappeared behind the screen. Thank the StoryTeller, because I was able to sit down on a chair nearby and put my head down.
I pulled the ponytail from my hair and gently massaged my scalp for a brief moment. Damn thing was starting to give me a headache, but my hair was one of my vanities. I loved it. It was long, and healthy, thick and wavy, and so dark it was almost black. It actually wasn’t black though. That color belonged to Snow. She got to have hair the color of a raven’s wing. Mine was brown. But thanks to the shampoos and conditioners in this world, it was rich and full and much more than the dreary dark color it had been in fairyland.
I stood and was twisting it back into a bun on my head when a hand on my wrist stopped me.
CHAPTER FIVE ~ Tate
It didn’t take me long to change back into my clothes from the tux. But I gave Drew a little extra time to collect herself. I still didn’t know what it was about her that drew me in, like a moth to a flame. It wasn’t like we knew each other well. She was my sister’s designer. She spoke little except about the fashions she was working on for Starla. She was alwa
ys polite, although I felt she probably held herself back from being her true self at times. She and my sister seemed to get on well with each other.
And she was beautiful beyond words.
Something about her, though, captivated me. I’d seen plenty of beautiful women in my life. None of them had ever held my attention like Drew did. They could bat their lashes, preen, primp, pose, and throw themselves at me and it wouldn’t make a world of difference. But with Drew? If I’d been in a position to do anything with her, I’d have jumped at the chance long ago. Even now, I still continued to battle with the desire to take that step. It was a battle I’d been waging inside myself for years.
And I was slowly losing.
And then I stepped back out into the room and I lost the battle.
Damn, but she looked fine. Her arms were raised, holding up that mess of hair that I was aching to feel. I caught a glimpse of her breasts, pushing against her top as she stretched just enough to wind her hair into a loose bun. I didn’t want that. I wanted it down. I wanted to touch it. To know if it was as soft as it looked.
I stepped forward silently and wrapped a hand around her delicate wrist. She stilled. Then, slowly, she turned her body into mine and our eyes clashed. That burning desire that had been plaguing me for so long was echoed back in those bright green eyes.
I lifted my other hand and grasped her chin as I lowered my mouth to hers and finally tasted what I’d been dying to taste. She gasped when our lips connected and I took full advantage, plunging my tongue between her lips and claiming that sweet mouth of hers the way I’d fantasized about. She tasted like sin. Hot and sweet and decadent. I released her wrist and plunged my fingers into that soft as silk hair. Gripping it and holding her still for me to take what I wanted.
I hadn’t let that part of me take over in so long. Years of keeping myself grounded in solitude to protect my sister and myself. But I didn’t want to control myself with Drew. I wanted her like a dying man, desperate for that life saving water in the middle of a scorching dessert. She was nectar. And I was addicted with just one taste.
