by Cate Beauman
He grunted.
“You do realize I plan to make you breakfast for the rest of your life.”
“And lunch and dinner,” he added.
“We should probably throw in dessert for good measure.” She smiled, wiggling against him, settling herself.
“Jerrod, put your hands on her hips, and keep talking like you are right now, but try not to look like you’re pissed.”
“I am pissed.”
She laughed. “You’re such a good sport.”
He eyed her again and couldn’t help but grin at the foolishness of the entire situation. “I’m never going to hear the end of this at work.”
“Yeah, but you get dessert for life.”
He chuckled as the camera snapped.
“Good. Better," Zenn said. "Now Jerrod, clasp your hands with Abby’s. Abby lean forward. Look in his eyes.”
He hesitated, then twined his fingers with hers as she leaned forward, her breasts pressing against his chest, their faces inches from each other, hands resting at the sides of his head.
“I’m thinking this definitely warrants chocolate chip cookies as soon as we get home.”
They grinned at each other.
“Make it brownies and this might be forgivable—until I go into the office in a couple month and find a blown up shot of you and me hanging around in our underwear.”
She laughed as he did. “So, double chunk brownies, then?”
“Now you’re talking.”
“Excellent,” Zenn said, bursting Jerrod’s bubble of contentment. For a moment he’d forgotten where they were, that some pain-in-the-ass photographer was capturing every second of this with a camera.
“Now, I want you both under the covers, facing each other. Abby, get rid of the top.”
Jerrod opened his mouth to object, but closed it as Abby climbed off him and slid beneath the sheets, unclasping her bra, throwing it to the floor. He turned on his side, hoping he appeared as indifferent as everyone else. No one seemed bothered by the fact that he was laying with a mostly naked woman, his principal—including Abby.
“Abby, I want you curled up some, your knees touching Jerrod’s stomach, your hand on his waist.”
They moved closer, following Zenn’s instructions.
He tensed as Abby's knees brushed his stomach and her cool hand rested against his waist.
“Jerrod, arm out. And Abby, I want you laying on it—right on his bicep. Look in each other’s eyes. No smiles this time. Serious.”
Abby lay her head on his bicep, and they stared in each other’s eyes while Leah hustled around, pulling the sheet from Abby, fixing the cover so it appeared rumpled, only covering Jerrod’s calves.
“Jerrod, I want your free hand in her hair, swiping it back from her face. Put your arm here.” Zenn came over and positioned Jerrod’s arm against Abby’s soft skin, hiding most of her breast from view. “Now, I want passion. Intimacy. Give it to me.”
Jerrod did as he was told, sliding his fingers through soft strands, gently brushing the hair away from her smooth, flawless cheek. The camera clicked continuously as he stared into the depths of dark blue. Here was kindness. Here was the sweet woman he couldn’t shake from his brain. He breathed in her scent as he touched her, suddenly, desperately wanting this, but in their home, in his bed.
“Thank you,” she murmured as she moved her thumb along his skin and Zenn hopped up on the mattress, bringing the lens in closer to their faces.
“You’re welcome.”
“Hot. Smokin’ hot. I’ve got what I need.” Zenn jumped down from the bed. “That’s a wrap.”
~~~~
His cell phone rang as he stepped into the hotel room. He set his bag on the queen-sized bed and answered. "What?"
"I found her."
Dimitri pulled the pack of Marlboros from his pocket as he stared out at Phoenix's skyline and mountains in the distance. “Where?”
“She’s in LA working for Lily Brand.”
He lit his cigarette, sucking in a deep drag of smoke. “Where does she live?”
“I don’t know.”
He sighed as he shook his head. Victor was running out of chances to get this right. “How do you not know if you’ve found her? You said this before and it was a mistake.”
“Anton said this before, and he was wrong. I see her on the internet while I'm sitting down to eat my hamburger and look at sports page and know I am right. Look at The Times. See for yourself. The story is breaking news in the afternoon addition. It just popped up.”
Dimitri pulled his laptop from his case and connected to the free WiFi.
"She is the new mystery designer," Victor added. "I'm in Long Beach now waiting for our new shipment."
Dimitri typed in The Times URL and grinned as her face—the face he'd been searching for—filled his screen. Abigail Harris, former sex slave, was the new top story. "I've got you now, little bitch. I'm on first flight I can get to Los Angeles."
“Call when you arrive and I will pick you up. I'm thirty minutes from the airport.”
“Find her address, but do nothing until I come. We will take care of this situation by night's end.” He hung up and studied the picture of the beautiful blue-eyed angel who’d been a devil in disguise. "You're mine now," he whispered as he shut the lid and packed up, heading for the door.
Chapter Nine
Abby stared into the dismal gray sky as the cab inched its way through late-afternoon traffic. The wipers swiped at the windshield in a rapid rhythm as rain pounded the roof with deafening drops. The cool afternoon and demanding day should have left her contentedly tired; instead, she was restless and eager to be home and away from Jerrod for a while.
The last couple of hours in her roommate's strong, sexy arms had churned her up, leaving her more confused than ever. She and Jerrod were friends. Their easy relationship was a comfort she'd counted on since her rescue; now everything was different. Something had changed while they lay among the sheets, staring into each other’s eyes.
It had been a long time since a man touched her the way Jerrod did. She'd worried some about flashbacks and panic attacks as she crawled across the bed toward him, but then his gaze held hers and everything was okay. Dredges of anxiety returned when she lay mostly naked below the sheets, until his fingers slid through her hair and his arm brushed her breast, soothing as much as setting her aflame. She'd simply melted, yearning for more as she fell under his rhythmic spell. Jerrod had awoken a piece of her she'd feared might never return. For the first time since the rape, the idea of an intimate physical connection wasn't scary. She wanted Jerrod's hands on her again—and hers on him. She suddenly and desperately craved a piece of Jerrod Quinn.
Shocked by her own thoughts, she darted him a glance, giving him a small smile when she realized he was looking her way. “It’s really pouring,” she tried, attempting normal conversation when nothing felt normal at all.
“Yeah. It hasn’t rained like this for a while.”
The cabbie took the left on South Grand Ave, pulling up to the curb.
"Thanks." Jerrod handed the man a fifty. "Ready?" he said to her.
“Yes.” She slid closer to his side.
“Out at the same time. Me to the right as usual. Hurry to the doors.”
She nodded and they stepped into the pouring rain, one right after the other, running with Jerrod directly next to her, his arm around her waist as they hurried to the door.
“Afternoon, Ms. T." Moses smiled, handing Abby a towel from the small stack by his station.
“Good afternoon, and thanks.” She blotted her face with the soft cotton and stepped into the elevator, running her hands through her soaked hair as Jerrod sent the car up. “Ugh, I feel like a wet dog.”
“Well, you look a lot better.”
“Aww, you’re so sweet.” She bumped Jerrod in the side, trying to put the foolishness in the cab behind her. Friends. She and Jerrod were friends.
He smiled and looked out when the door op
ened. “We’re good.” He let them into their place, and she walked in first.
“Thanks.” She took off her wet jacket. “Here, let me have your coat.”
He slid off the black jacket, handing it over.
She draped the soggy clothes on hangers and hung them on opposite sides of the closet door, shivering as her hair dripped cold trails down her arms. She wiped at the drops with the towel, stepping closer to Jerrod. “Here, bend over some. You’re dripping all over your shirt.”
He bent forward, and she rubbed the towel over his dark blond hair.
“Thanks.” He looked up, his hair standing in spiky tufts.
She chuckled. “Don’t thank me yet.” She tugged on his shoulder, bringing him closer. “Right now you look like a more conservative, buffer version of Zenn.”
He winced. “Anything but that.”
She laughed, standing on her tiptoes, brushing her fingers through his hair to smooth it back in place. “Thank you again for today. I don’t know what I would’ve done without your help.”
He shrugged. “It wasn’t so bad, I guess.”
“Zenn definitely loved your face." She gave his jaw a gentle pat and continued with her work, more relaxed now that they were home and everything seemed back on track. "You’ll have agents beating down our door in no time.”
He smiled. “I don’t know about that.”
“Oh, I do.” She wiped a stray drop from his cheek. “You’ll be strutting your way down the catwalk in no time. I’ll be able to say I was your first modeling partner,” she sighed wistfully.
They smiled at each other.
She brushed at his sides one last time and settled flat on her feet. “Voila. You’re officially put back together.”
“I appreciate it.” He held her gaze.
“Least I can do.” She licked her lips, suddenly nervous as electricity snapped and hummed between them like it had in the studio. Maybe they weren't back on track after all. “So, I guess I’ll get started on those brownies.”
“Can’t wait." He slid his hands in his pockets. "I’m going to make a few calls.”
“Okay.”
Neither of them moved.
What was this? What was going on? The surge of lust rushed back to her stomach as her heart pounded. “Today—” she swallowed the ball of nerves, looked down, clearing her throat, meeting his gaze again. “Did you feel…” What? How could she put into words the intensity passing between them while they lay in the bed, while they stared at each other right now? “I—” Taking a chance, she reached up, touching his chin with the tips of her fingers.
His jaw clenched as he grabbed her wrist, clutching, his eyes burning into hers.
She regained her stance on her tiptoes, needing to see what this was, and pressed her lips to the warmth of his, slowly, gently, easing back, watching him.
He released her arm and gripped her waist, letting go as if she'd burned him, then grabbed hold again, his hands sliding to her hips as she moved in for a second taste. Closing her eyes, she absorbed a hint of his potent flavor as his mouth gave against hers. She stepped closer, her chest brushing his as silky tongues met, and he pushed her back.
“Abigail, don’t. Don’t,” he repeated on a shaky breath as he shoved his fingers through his hair, messing up what she’d just fixed.
Heat rushed to her cheeks as the sting of humiliation coursed through her veins. What did she just do? “I’m—I don’t know what I was thinking.”
He jammed his hands in his pockets. “Don’t worry about it.”
She would do more than worry about it. How would she ever look at him again? “I—” She shook her head, turned and hurried toward her room.
“Abigail.”
Ignoring him, she kept walking, closing her door most of the way, and leaned against the wall, pressing her hands to her face, shaking her head. “I can’t believe I did that.” She rarely made the first move with a man, and now she remembered why. Never had she gauged a moment so wrong. She’d gotten caught up in an afternoon, which was nothing more than the product of a photographer’s direction. Not once had Jerrod ever hinted at any sort of romantic interest, and she’d gone and kissed him.
She dropped her hands, cringing, and slid down the wall, sitting on the plush carpet as another wave of mortification rocked through her, making her sick. She and Jerrod lived together. He provided her protection. And now a perfectly good thing would be incredibly awkward.
His footsteps started her way, and she grimaced, wishing for a redo. “Please no. Please no,” she whispered when he paused next to her door. “Please no.” She clenched her fists and relaxed when he turned into his own room and shut himself in. “Thank god.” She didn’t want to rehash her major mishap—not with him, anyway. She grabbed her phone from her back jean pocket and dialed her sister’s number.
“Hello?”
“Lex—”
“What’s wrong?”
“Oh, everything.” She rolled her eyes, replaying the horrifying moment.
“What’s going on?”
“I’m an idiot.” She stared at the drops sliding down the huge panes of glass across her room.
“Of course you’re not.”
“Oh yes I am. I kissed Jerrod.”
“What?”
She wrinkled her nose and rested her forehead in her hand. “Don’t say ‘what’ like that.”
“Ab, what on earth happened?”
“I did the whole photo shoot thing today. The male model never showed up, so the photographer roped Jerrod into posing with me for a few shots.”
“Wow. I’m impressed.”
She grinned despite the situation. “Zenn can be pretty persuasive, but Jerrod did it to help me out and shut him up.” Her smile vanished as she plucked at the soft beige carpet fibers with jerky movements. “So we did this swing shot where I had to sit on his lap—no big deal. Then we had to do this set where I was in panties and a bra, and he was in his boxers. Zenn made me straddle him. I’m sitting on his sexy six-pack, holding his hands, and he’s flashing me these killer grins. That crooked incisor gets me, Lex. I like to make him smile just so I can see it.”
"There is something about that tooth and those reluctant smiles."
"I know, right?" She shook her head. “Anyway, one direction leads to another, and I’m topless. It was kind of steamy. He was touching me and staring into my eyes. For the first time in a long time I wanted someone to touch me. Jerrod. I always thought we were just friends, but lately, I don't know. I think I have feelings for him, Lex.”
“Are you sure you aren’t confusing emotion with lust?”
“No. Not one hundred percent, but I think it’s more than that. He’s such a good guy. He’s kind and steady and let’s not forget hot. He’s got the whole package.”
“Jerrod’s a wonderful man.”
“But he’s not interested in me.” She groaned. “Oh, god, Lex. I kissed him and he only sort of kissed me back.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means we did the whole stare into each other’s eyes thing, and I touched his chin. He grabbed my wrist and held it, which to me was the signal to go ahead. I kissed him, kind of eased away and went back for more. He seemed like he was into it. His hands were on my hips, then he pushed me back and said ‘don’t.’” She groaned louder, reliving the embarrassment for the millionth time.
“Hmm. Maybe not all is lost. I mean he didn’t flat-out shut you down.”
“But he did shut me down eventually.” She leaned against the wall, and her eyes grew wide. “Oh crap. What if he’s seeing someone? The thought never even crossed my mind.”
“I don’t think he’s seeing anyone."
"He's not exactly an open book. I can write down what I know about his personal life on a Post-It note—you know the tiny ones?"
"But he’s always with you.”
“Not always. Mostly, but I do come and stay with you guys sometimes.”
“I’m pretty positive he�
�s not, Ab. Jack said something about him having a serious thing with some woman awhile back, but I’m fairly certain he’s a free agent.”
“I guess that’s something.” She sighed and touched her lips, still able to feel his if she let herself. “What am I going to do?”
“Come have lunch with me tomorrow.”
Her phone beeped, alerting her to another call. She quickly glanced at the readout. Lily. She was not in the mood to rehash the shoot. Ignoring the second beep, she focused on her sister. "I don't think that's a good idea right now, Lex. I'm pretty much on house arrest for the foreseeable future until all of this stupid press crap dies down. I was lucky enough to dodge the headlines this morning. The last thing we need is a picture of you and me somehow popping up in the news."
“Abby.”
“Stranger things have happened. I want to see you—desperately. I need you, but I need you safe even more. We’ll see each other Saturday for Wren’s bridal shower at Fort Cooke. I think I can survive that long, especially if I don’t leave my room. I can live without food for two days. I have a faucet in my bathroom.”
Alexa laughed. “I think you should clear the air. You’ll both feel better for it.”
“Yeah, maybe, but the faucet idea isn’t half bad. So, enough about me and my latest disaster. How did the doctor’s appointment go today?”
“Great. Looks like we’re having a boy.”
Abby grinned as her eyes filled. “Oh, Lex, that’s awesome. Why did you let me go on and on when you actually had something cool to talk about? I can’t wait to meet him. Any names yet?”
“Owen Michael.”
“I love it. Owen Michael Matthews. I’m completely in love, and I haven’t even seen his little face yet.”
“Four more months to go.”
“Mommy!” Olivia called in the background.
“Oh, Livy’s up from her nap. I’ll be right there!” she called to her daughter.
“I’ll let you go.”
“Jack’s got her. He's working from home since we had the appointment. What are you going to do with the rest of your day?”
“Sulk and make brownies—double fudge, then I'll put something together for dinner. I promised Jerrod three square meals a day plus dessert for the rest of his life as payment for the shoot today.”