Seized By Love

by Melissa Foster

  “Then don’t slow it down. I’m falling for you, too. I want to be yours. Really yours.”

  His heart swelled to near bursting. His eyes blazed and his heart thundered as the words came out hot and fast and full of greed. “I want to make you mine in every way possible. To hold you down while I take you to heights you never imagined.”

  He lifted her wrist to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to it. “To bind these delicate wrists with expensive silk while I pleasure every inch of your body, until you’re so impassioned, so lost in desire, that you can barely think, much less breathe.” He kissed her again, harder, sealing in his confession.

  “What else?” she said in another needful breath.

  “Lizzie…” Christ, he was hard as a rock, and she was pushing him to places that were going to make him lose his last shred of control.

  “Please, tell me?” Her brows knitted together, and that sexy pout slayed him.

  He knew he’d never be able to deny her a damn thing. “It might be too much for you,” he nearly growled.

  “If it’s with you, it’s not too much.”

  He searched her eyes and knew by the tantalizing seduction in their depths that it wasn’t going to be too much. Nothing would be too much, but still, he didn’t want to talk about all the things he wanted to do with her. He wanted to love her, here. Now. “Some things don’t need to be put into words.” He pressed his hands to her cheeks, brushing the pad of his thumb over her soft skin.

  Her eyes went nearly black, and for a beat there were no words, no thoughts, just unbridled sexual tension about what would one day come. She pressed her hands to his cheeks and crashed her mouth to his in a savage kiss that nearly made him come undone.

  “I’m yours,” she said. “I want to explore everything with you.”

  His breath rushed from his lungs as he tried to regain a modicum of self-control. “I love you so much.” He kissed her again, their confessions taking root in his soul, their love spiraling around them, binding them together.

  When they finally drew apart, he held her close, feeling the frantic beat of her heart. “Lizzie, love isn’t a race. I want everything with you, when we’re ready. When I no longer see a shadow of doubt in your eyes.”

  “There’s no doubt,” she said with too much conviction.

  He smiled and pressed his mouth to hers again, tenderly this time.

  “Not usually, but sometimes there’s a hint of hesitation. My mother once said that love comes in stages, and if you rush them, you miss out on all the best parts. I want the best parts with you. I want every part. The anticipation, the laughter, the certainty of knowing that at the end of the day we’ll be there for each other no matter what. That feeling that’s burning through us right now will only grow hotter, and I promise you, by the time I take you there, you’ll have no more doubt—and it’ll make our love that much sweeter.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  LIZZIE LAY IN Blue’s arms beneath the stars, his naked body safely cocooning her, their skin glistening from the efforts of their lovemaking. Guilt washed over her with every gust of wind off the sea. She’d come there to confess her secret, and instead she’d told him she loved him. She did love him, but that wasn’t the secret she needed to tell him. How could she reveal the truth now and risk what they had when she loved him so much that she physically ached inside as she tried to weed through the guilt that was pulling her from his arms?

  “Are you cold?” He reached for her shirt and helped her put it on.

  “A little.” She dressed quickly, struggling to figure out how she had allowed herself to get in so deep. When he’d been telling her how he felt, what he wanted to do with her, talking about a future, their future, she could picture it all. For a while, the webcast disappeared, like it had never existed. And she’d allowed herself to hang on to the fantasy and hang on to her love for him.

  “Stay with me tonight,” he said as he buttoned his jeans.

  “I want to, but I can’t.” She felt on the verge of tears, needing to tell him the truth. She would never forgive herself if she went home without telling him, no matter how much it would kill her to do it.

  “Blue, we need to talk.”

  He pulled his shirt over his head, and his eyes turned serious. “I shouldn’t have said those things to you. It’s too soon.”

  He reached for her, and she fell into the comfort of him. This was just like him, taking the blame without even knowing what she wanted to talk about. It would be so easy to quit the webcast and pretend it had never existed, but she couldn’t do that to Maddy.

  “It’s not that. I’m on the exact same page with my feelings for you. I love you, more than I ever imagined possible.” She hated hearing the fear in her voice. Her throat thickened, and she swallowed hard to try to regain her courage.

  “Lizzie, what’s wrong?” He lifted her chin, and tears sprang from her eyes. “Sweetheart?” He folded her in his arms and ran a soothing hand down her back. “You can talk to me. Whatever it is can’t be that bad.”

  She pulled back, breathing hard. “I…” I can’t do this. I have to do this. Oh God. Why did I ever start the stupid webcast?

  Because I had no choice.

  She swiped angrily at the tears streaming down her cheeks. She needed to do this. Blue deserved the truth.

  “I need to tell you something, and I don’t want to. I want to go home and pretend I never came over.”

  “This sounds serious.” He released her, and she suddenly felt very alone.

  “I think it is.” I wish it weren’t. She could barely concentrate past the fear rushing through her and the sound of her heartbeat in her ears. She was unwilling to meet his gaze and unable to turn away. She didn’t know where to start. Should she tell him the whys of it all or start with the worst part and tell him what she did twice a week? Did it matter which she led with when the end result would be the same?

  She could run to her car—drive away without saying another word. Then tomorrow she could try to pretend the whole thing had never happened—that she hadn’t been meaning to tell him and chickened out. The pain of knowing what she was about to reveal nearly dropped her to her knees. What happened to the levelheaded woman she’d been? How could she have let her heart get so tied up in him when she knew she had a secret that wasn’t fair to keep from the man she loved?

  And she did love him, regardless of how fast it had happened. It was real and present and all around her, in the ache coursing through her and the worry rolling off of him in waves.

  “Okay. I’m listening,” he said, his devastatingly sexy and serious eyes locked on her.

  “Before I tell you, I need you to know that my intent was not to deceive you.”

  ***

  BLUE’S GUT FISTED, and every nerve instantly caught fire. Nothing good could possibly follow those words. Deceive was a dangerous word, and not one he’d expected to hear from Lizzie. Despite the uncertainty he heard in her voice, he reached for her again, unable and unwilling to turn his feelings off based on one sentence.

  “Come here, sweetheart. As I said, whatever it is, it can’t be that bad.” She went rigid beneath his touch, and when she finally met his gaze again, he knew that whatever it was, it was tearing her up inside.

  “Oh, it might be,” she said with a shaky voice. She inhaled another ragged breath, and her eyes dampened again.

  Fuck.

  In an effort at self-preservation, he released her, trying to calm his own internal struggle of wanting to hope for the best but, taking in the confusion and sadness in her eyes, fearing the worst.

  “I don’t know where to start, so I’m just going to tell you.”

  “Okay.” Hurry the hell up. Every second felt interminable.

  “I do a webcast every week, and I’m not proud of it, or maybe I am a little, but not really, but I do it anyway, and I should have told you.” She paused, swallowing hard.

  Blue hardly ever used the Internet, but he wasn’t a novice. “A web
cast? Is that like a podcast?” What the hell was she talking about, and why was this deceiving him?

  “Sort of. It’s basically a video show that I do twice a week.”

  “Okay. And?”

  She fidgeted with a fraying thread on the blanket as she spoke in a low and serious voice. “It’s a baking show, one I started in college.”

  He was totally confused. What the hell was wrong with baking?

  “I…um…earn money by monetizing the videos. You know, the longer people watch, the more money I earn from my partner programs.”

  “I don’t know anything about video monetization, Lizzie, but how is this deceiving me? I don’t care if you do baking videos. Is that why you leave me muffins and sweets in the mornings?” He reached for her hand.

  She nodded, and a tear slipped down her cheek, ripping right through his heart. He gathered her in close again, pressing one hand to the back of her head. “I don’t understand. Why are you so upset? So you make baking videos. What am I missing?”

  She pushed back, and he could see she was holding her breath.

  “Breathe, baby.” He squeezed her hand.

  “I…I don’t just make baking videos.” She shifted her eyes away. “I’m the Naked Baker—” Sobs burst from her lungs, and she covered her face.

  His mind reeled with confusion as he tried to wrap his head around what she’d said. “Naked Baker? You bake naked? Online? For money?” Holy fuck.

  She shook her head. Thank God he’d misunderstood.

  “I wear an apron that covers my chest and down below. And heels.” She wiped her eyes with her forearm, still looking away.

  “An apron?” He couldn’t even begin to process what she was saying. Too many emotions surged through him. “What else?” He was breathing hard, and his chest burned. A fucking apron and heels?

  “Nothing,” she whispered.

  “Nothing, as in you wear only an apron and heels?”

  She barely nodded. If he hadn’t been watching her so intently, he might have missed it. “Well, a flesh-colored thong.”

  “So, anyone who watches these videos can see your ass?” He didn’t mean to bark at her, but damn it, he felt blindsided, like she’d taken his trust and stomped on it, just like Sarah Jane.

  “They don’t,” she snapped. “I’m careful with the angles.”

  He paced. “You’re careful with the angles? Fuck, Lizzie, what does that mean? Why would you do this? You have a great floral business.”

  “I needed money when I was in college and—”

  He felt sick to his stomach and held up his hand, silencing her. “You’ve been doing this since college and you never thought to mention it to me before? Before we made love? Before I opened my fucking heart up to you?”

  “Don’t you see, Blue? That’s why I kept turning you down when you asked me out, and telling you I wasn’t good for you. I knew it wasn’t fair of me to keep it from you, or to ask you to accept it.”

  He ran a hand through his hair, then fisted his hands, trying to squeeze the frustration from himself. “Don’t tell me any more. Please.”

  He stared at her, trying to reconcile the things she’d told him to the woman he knew her to be. The look in her eyes was gut wrenching, the pain in his heart, unbearable. His mind reeled back a decade, to the night he’d walked in on Sarah Jane screwing that other guy.

  He looked at Lizzie, unable to believe what she was saying. How could this possibly be? Did everyone in this crazy world lie?

  Lizzie’s tears stopped. Her chin rose, and she squared her shoulders, determination settling in her eyes. “I didn’t mean to deceive you, Blue. It’s not like I’m selling my body. I did what I had to do. If you’ll just let me explain.”

  He narrowed his eyes, and when he spoke his voice was stone-cold, colder than he’d ever felt. “I can’t listen to an explanation right now, Lizzie. I need time to process this. I love you, but you did deceive me, whether you meant to or not. That is what it is.” He paused, trying to temper the acidic burn in his throat. The taste of the vile truth. “But the worst part is, you deceived yourself—and it sounds like you still are.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  LIZZIE DROVE AROUND for an hour, vacillating between going back and trying to explain and patch things up with Blue and being too angry to see straight. How could he tell her that she was fooling herself? She knew just how low she felt about what she was doing every goddamn day, but she also knew how important it was to have a college degree these days. Not to mention that if she’d had to manage her school loans after college, she’d still be working in some shitty little flower shop for ten dollars an hour, destined to be doing so forever.

  She’d been innovative, and she’d found a way to climb out from under her debt and help her sister avoid having to do the same. She should be proud of her accomplishments. That was what she’d told herself for all these years, but now none of that held the same weight, and the shame of it all was that she’d never meant to hurt anyone else. Least of all Blue. She never meant to fall in love with him, and she didn’t mean to keep this from him, but it wasn’t exactly something a person brought up on a date.

  By the way, I’m the Naked Baker, just in case you were wondering what I did in my spare time. She’d bet that wouldn’t have gone over very well.

  She drove up and down the highway, berating herself and building herself up in equal measure, until she realized it was two in the morning and she still had a video to edit.

  It was only after she’d edited the video and she’d fallen into bed alone, in her dark, silent bedroom that reality settled over her like a storm cloud, and her insides twisted until she could barely breathe.

  She’d ruined them.

  She’d lost the only man she’d ever loved.

  Now it was six thirty in the morning and she had no idea if Blue was coming over to finish the renovations, or if he hated her and they’d never speak again. She felt his absence in the kitchen where he’d left heart prints, like fingerprints, in everything he did. She ran her hand over the counter, thinking of how many times she’d left him notes, expecting to come home and find them in the trash only to realize he’d taken them with him. How many times had the sound of his truck pulling up in the morning set her heart aflame? How many mornings had she hurried out before he arrived because she worried he’d see her attraction to him written all over her face?

  She debated staying home to see if he came over, but the thought of seeing the hurt in his eyes again, hearing the venom in his voice, made her queasy. Even her skin stung with the painful memory. Not that she blamed Blue for his reaction. There was only one way that conversation could have gone down. She’d known that from their first date, hadn’t she? Wasn’t that why she hadn’t accepted the dates in the first place? And once she had, wasn’t that why she kept putting off telling him about the webcast? Because being with Blue felt so good and so incredibly right that the thought of ruining their relationship had made her sick to her stomach. Didn’t she put it off so she could eke out as much time as she possibly could with him? To enjoy every kiss. To revel in the feel of his arms around her. To soak in his heartfelt words until she absolutely had to come clean?

  She drove into town feeling selfish for having waited so long and fighting tears at every turn, her anguish almost overcoming her control. She parked and walked down the pier in the early-morning fog, a stab of guilt buried deep in her chest. Normally she loved this time of day, before shops opened and tourists filled the streets, but now it amplified her loneliness. She pulled the hood of her sweatshirt over her head and shoved her hands deep in her pockets, warding off the morning chill. Fishermen readied their boats beside the pier, and two older women walked down the beach, bundled up in jackets and hats. Strangers went about their business like normal, while Lizzie tried to hold on to the pieces of her broken heart.

  She choked back tears, wishing Blue were with her and willing to talk things through. She could almost feel his hand on her back, se
e the mischievous glint in his eyes as he pulled her in close—he was always pulling her in close, as if he couldn’t get enough of her. Was. She nearly choked on the word.

  She needed to get a grip on herself. She had an entire day to get through and, she just remembered, a string garden class to teach tonight. When she reached the end of the dock, she sat down with her feet hanging over the water and her arms wrapped around her middle, bracing herself against the anguish that gripped her.

  This was what it felt like to love someone so much she had to be honest with him. This is what it felt like to be honest—and to lose him. How would she ever go back to being who she was? Which brought her to a more troubling question. Who the hell was she? Was she the good girl her parents had raised? The rebellious coed? The proud business owner? Or was she, really, the Naked Baker? A woman who dressed in nearly nothing for money? She knew who she wanted to be. A flower shop owner, big sister, and Blue’s girlfriend. That was all she wanted.

  But what she wanted didn’t matter, and she’d accepted that when she’d committed to helping Maddy.

  She buried her face in her hands as an even more treacherous thought hit her.

  What would Blue think of her if—when—he watched the videos?

  She pulled out her cell phone and sent him a text—I’m sorry I hurt you—and then she lay back on the rough, hard pier and stared up at the sky, praying he’d forgive her.

  ***

  BLUE CLUTCHED HIS phone, staring at the text from Lizzie, remembering the way the color had drained from her face when he’d told her she’d deceived not only him, but she’d also deceived herself. He shoved his phone in his pocket, unable to deal with the roller coaster of emotions rattling through him.

  He’d stayed up half the night watching the Naked Baker videos. There were so many of them that he’d been sick and angry watching one after another, feeling his heart chip away with each one. How many guys had watched her while they jerked off? How many drunk college guys gathered around their computers laughing about all the things they’d like to do to her as she strutted around nearly naked? He had a good handle on the vast number of people who had done just that. He’d surfed message boards and forums for posts about the Naked Baker and had been disgusted by what he’d found. Chat rooms filled with anonymous posts about her breasts and ass and all the dirty things guys would like to do to her. How the hell could he protect the woman he loved from those types of attacks?