by Anna Brooks
Her face falls, and she drops her arms. “I can’t keep moochin’ off you.”
“Jesus Christ.” I run my hands through my hair. “You’re not mooching. Your mom isn’t mooching. I wish you two stubborn ladies would understand that.”
“Okay, take a second to look at things from my perspective. Seriously look at them and tell me you wouldn’t feel the way I do.”
I pause for a beat. “I get it. And if you really want to work, I’m not gonna stop you. I told you before I don’t want to control you. I’m simply asking—”
“You didn’t ask. You told.”
“Touché. But I’m asking now. Will you please consider talking to my mom? She’s the one who hires all the support staff so she’ll know if any positions are open. You filled out an application there a while ago but I told her to wait to talk to you about it until you were ready. I know for sure the hostess at the one we made fried chicken at just had a baby, so they’re short staffed there.”
“I could do that.”
Victory. I pump my fist in the air—mentally, of course. “Sweet. Call my mom after I leave. And please understand, I just want you safe. And after what we’ve been through and the last place you worked where your boss fucking put his hands on you, I like knowing I don’t have to worry about any of that shit.”
I love when her face goes all soft. “I’ll call your mom.”
“Thank you.” I pull her to me and kiss her long and hard. When I finally come up for air, I don’t let her go. “And while you’re talking to her, ask her about your mom, too. If she was the one who taught you how to cook, she’d be an asset to the kitchen.”
Her chin quivers, and she face plants into my chest. “I love you so much, Carter Cane.”
Billie
After he left this morning, I did, in fact, call his mom. She told me about the hostess job, and I jumped on it. Starting next week, she’s going to put me on the schedule. And as far as my mom goes, Susie said they’re always looking for talent for the kitchen, so they’d love to have her stop by to talk and do a sort of casual interview. Things are so looking up.
“Where did you find that?” I just got done drying my hair when he walks into the bedroom holding my little vibrator.
“How long have you had this?” He closes the door to his bedroom, or I guess our room since I’m officially moved in now.
I walk backward, and my legs hit the bed where I fall to my butt. “I don’t know.”
“You’ve been holding out on me.”
“What? No. I’m not gonna tell you about that.”
“Why not? It’s hot.”
My gaze drops from his eyes to his hands, then down to the tent in his pajama pants. I love that he gets like this for me, but we did it last night… well technically, we did it twice last night, one of them was with me on my knees, thanking him for being so amazing. The other was in bed. And we did it again this morning before we even rolled out of bed. I don’t know how he can be ready to go already. “How is that hot?”
He takes a step closer. “You know.”
“Where did you find it?”
“Where you hid it.”
I clamp my mouth closed.
“Why’d you hide it, honey?”
“Can we not?”
“Oh, we are. Take your clothes off.”
I feel that familiar tingle between my legs, but I hesitate.
“Off, Billie.”
My fingers tremble when I reach for the hem of my dress. “Carter.”
“Off.”
Pulling the material over my head, I’m left in my bra and panties. I know he wants them all gone, so I reach behind me and unhook my bra, then loop my thumbs at my waist and tug my thong down.
“Lie back.”
I crab walk on the bed until my head hits the headboard.
“Open your legs.”
My knees drift apart at the husky thickness of his voice. He drops his pants and comes to kneel between my thighs. “I wanna watch.”
Oh, God. I don’t know if I can.
“But I also wanna make you go crazy, so I’m torn.” He grabs his cock and slowly jerks it. Dropping his butt to his heels, he pulls me up so my lower back is resting on the top of his thighs. “I think I’m gonna go with option two.”
Then he flicks the button on my little bullet. “Carter.”
“Tell me…” He sets the cool metal on my knee, then trails it down my thigh until he reaches the apex. “You used this on your clit, but what did you have fillin’ you up, baby?”
I groan when he brushes it over my folds and whine when he trails it up my other thigh.
“Answer me, honey. You use your fingers? Another toy?”
“No… nothing.”
“Hmm.” He drops it next to me and uses his hands to pull me farther up his lap, then without warning onto his dick.
“Oh, my Lord.”
His hands spread me open, and he uses his thumbs, one after the other, to tease my clit. My hips move on their own. “That’s it.” I watch as he grabs my bullet, and in slow motion, he brings it between my legs.
“Shit.” I gasp and push my heels into the mattress.
“There ya go, honey. Work yourself on my cock.”
My back arches, and he slides inside of me, the thickness of him filling me makes using the bullet better than ever. My thighs shake, and he takes it off. “Nooo.”
“Patience, baby.”
“Carter, I was so close.”
“I know.”
He puts it back, and it builds almost instantly. My breath hitches, and he takes it away while I grab the sheets in my fists.
He does the same thing two more times, and I’ve finally had enough. I pull myself up, then grab his shoulder and push him to the bed, where I ride him.
“Fuckin’ hell.”
“Carter.”
“Fuck. Faster, baby. Ride me.”
I fall to his chest, and he lifts me up by my hips, using my body to fuck him. “Oh, my…”
He grunts, the harsh pants coming heavier and heavier.
“I’m… I’m gonna…” I don’t get to finish my sentence because my entire body locks up as white-hot heat tears through me from the inside out. As if I’ve been electrocuted, I shake uncontrollably, and Carter groans, long and low in my ear, slamming me onto him, then holding himself inside me, his fingers digging into my skin.
After a moment, his arms fall off me and land on the mattress. “You okay?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Love havin’ you on top of me all naked and sated, but there’s a bullet vibrating a little too close to my ass, so I need you to roll off me.”
I push up and smile at him. “You came hard because it was down there.”
“Off, babe.”
“I’m gonna remember that.”
Rolling his eyes, he lifts me off him, gently tosses me on the bed, then stands up. When he grabs the toy to shut it off, I ask, “You sure you’re ready to part with it?”
“That’s it.”
Then he drops it to the ground and grabs me by the ankles, yanking me to the end of the bed. I laugh when he flips me over and smacks my butt. “Stop it.”
“Let’s go take a shower. You need to wash some of that attitude off, baby.”
Chapter 19
Billie
I didn’t mean to do it, but I wanted to see the movie times. Carter and I are planning on going to a movie tomorrow, and I get to pick, so I opened his laptop.
And instead of searching for the theater in the computer, I typed in his name. I don’t know why. Probably because I know he’s keeping something from me.
I was right.
Carter Cane was visibly distraught at the funeral of his girlfriend, model and actress Zoe Sanders. The two had been dating for three years when she died in a tragic car accident where Mr. Cane was the driver.
“Oh, my Lord.” I click on the next link that takes me to a news report.
“They just flew off the cliff. It
was awful.”
“Those are the words from a man who saw the entire tragedy unfold before his very eyes. Witness Brody West describes the scene of a horrific accident that took place earlier today just off the coast.”
The scene leaves the newsroom and goes to a beach where you see a taped off cliff in the background. “I didn’t know what everyone was screaming for, but when I saw Carter and Zoe walking down the beach, I ran with everyone else. But then a bunch of paparazzi followed them, and they started running to a car.”
“Can you describe what you saw after that?”
“Speeding. They were going really fast and like five or six cars chased after them.”
“Oh, God.” I go back to another article.
In what can only be described as a tragic accident, a Hollywood love story comes to an end today as Zoe Sanders is pronounced dead. Her longtime boyfriend, currently ranked as one of the top three surfers in the world, is in the hospital with a broken tibia as he was pinned in the car. He sustained no other injuries. It was reported that the paparazzi got too close and ran into the back of their vehicle, sending them careening off the cliff. A representative from Ms. Sander’s security agency confirms this information. Mr. Cane was not speeding, and it’s suspected that as a native, he was aware how dangerous the turns were. The man who hit their vehicle has been detained by police.
Initial reports confirm Zoe was conscious briefly after she was thrown from the vehicle, but a branch punctured her lung, and she tragically passed away before the paramedics could reach her.”
I jump out of the seat, completely shocked and almost angry. No, I am angry. I’m pissed. How could he not tell me that? That is… it’s a huge part of who he is. And it reminds me who he really is and how goddamned out of my league he is. He’s practically a celebrity, and he’s with trailer trash like me.
But more than that, he doesn’t trust me. If he did, he would have told me this. If he was able to rely on me, he’d have opened up about this when I asked him. But he hasn’t, and he’s actually gone out of his way to avoid it, so what does that tell me?
It tells me he doesn’t trust me. Doesn’t think I’m strong enough to shoulder the burden he’s been carrying around for years.
After leaving a snarky message on a sticky note, I tape it to the laptop screen and grab my keys, not bothering to take my cell or purse, and leave. I need air, I need to think, and apparently, the one place he won’t go is to the beach, so that’s exactly where I head.
Carter
“Hey, I stopped and got some mahimahi,” I call into our apartment as I close the door behind me. My laptop is open on the kitchen table, and a yellow piece of paper is stuck to it. When I set the bags down, it shakes the table enough to wake up the computer. What I see on the screen makes me sick. I rip the paper off.
Guess I know where to go when I want some alone time.
“Billie!” I rush around the apartment, calling for her. “No. No, shit.” I run across the hall and bang on the door. Before Sally even has it open all the way, I push through. “Is she here?”
“What?”
“Billie. Is she here?”
Sally follows me as I walk around the house, tearing it apart looking for my girl. God, no. She can’t leave me.
“Where is she?”
“I don’t know. Is she okay?”
“I think so. But I’m not. God, I won’t be okay if she leaves me. She knows now. She knows, and she’s gonna leave me.”
I rush out, but Sally calls my name. “She’s not gonna leave you, Carter. She loves you. All she wants to be is what you are to her. Let her.”
Without responding to her, I rush back to my Jeep and tear across town. The GPS tracker I have on my WRX that she’s been driving tells me exactly where she is. I jump out before it’s fully in park and run down the steps. The moment my feet hit the sand, they sink, and I can’t move. The flight or fight kicks in, and I do neither… I freeze.
Kids run by me, throwing a ball, and a couple holding hands stops in front of a tree to take a photo. My head spins as I take it all in. The smell of the fresh sun-kissed air, the taste of the specks of salt drifting from the water, the sound of the waves crashing.
The screaming.
The blood.
Begging.
I clear my head, shaking it until the images are gone, then lift one foot and set it in front of the other. Then I do it again. And again. When I get closer, I scan the area.
It’s not crazy crowded, but there are enough people that I can’t find her right away. I walk even closer to the water, the sand getting darker, and panic seizes me as I spot her in the water.
Of all the fucking beaches she picked, she had to choose the one where there are no fucking lifeguards. She’s too far out. The waves are small swells, but that’s all it takes. I grew up in the water and know how quickly someone who isn’t experienced can drown. And without another thought, I do it. After six years, I finally fucking do it. Reaching the shoreline, I rip my shirt over my head and kick my sandals off, then rush into the ocean.
The water burns, even though it’s cool, and I try to scream for her, but nothing comes out. I could drink the ocean dry, and it still wouldn’t be enough to make the dryness in my mouth disappear.
She’s so far away. Too far… dangerously far away.
I dive beneath the crests and have to come back up almost immediately. Large gasping breaths of air crackle in my lungs, but I push on.
It’s been years since I’ve stepped foot in the water, let alone swam in it.
The farther out I get, the darker the water becomes, but the clearer her face gets. “Billie.” I barely push the single word past my lips, and she doesn’t move. The stupid raft continues to gently rock in the waves, and I push myself beyond anything I’ve ever felt.
Not only am I physically exhausted because I haven’t been in the water in so long, but my chest feels like it’s going to explode. “Billie!” I call her again as I get closer, and finally reach out and grab her raft.
She yanks the earbuds out and whips her head over. “What the hell, man?”
“Shit.” I drop my arm and my head, panting as I catch my breath.
“Dude, what the fuck?”
The woman, who is not Billie, snaps at me.
“I thought you were someone else.”
“Wait…” She lifts up her sunglasses. “Are you Carter Cane?”
Water drips down my face, and I swipe it off, then slick my hair back with my hands. “Yeah.”
“Holy shit, man. I used to have your poster in my room. My brother became a surfer because of you. I thought you didn’t surf anymore.”
“I don’t.”
“Then what are you doing out here?”
I don’t even acknowledge that as I start to turn around. “You shouldn’t be out this far.”
“I’m good.” Spoken like a true native.
I slowly make my way back, letting the water absorb into my skin and the horrific truths of that day sink in. When I get close enough to shore and can stand, I close my eyes and pray it was just a dream… a fucking nightmare.
The sound of the waves, the birds, the laughter—they drown out everything else. I tilt my head up, the bright rays of the sun penetrating my closed lids.
Water gently splashes around me, and a soft hand touches my back, a touch I’d recognize anywhere. “Carter. What are you doing here?”
I yank her to me so hard her body jerks. “You can’t leave me.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you can’t leave me.”
She shoves me back a step. “Thanks for having faith in me, Carter. Real nice knowing you think that highly of me.”
“She told me to speed up, but I knew the turn was sharp, so I didn’t. They did though and hit us,” I tell Billie, no longer able to keep her in the dark. “It was my fault, and I couldn’t save her.”
“Carter—”
“You saw the articles. I know you
did.”
Billie’s hand slides around me, and she rests her head on my chest. “I did. And I’m so sorry. But there was nothing else you could have done.”
“My fucking leg got pinned when the front of the car got crushed from impact. I was stuck, but she flew out because she didn’t have her fucking seat belt on. I didn’t notice because we left the beach in such a rush. She flew out, but not far enough that I couldn’t hear her. I could see her, too. She was looking right at me. Begging me to help her. I watched her die. I watched the blood drain the life right out of her, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do. God.”
“Oh Carter, it’s not your fault.”
“It is. All of it.”
She kisses right above my heart. “It was an accident.”
“There are so many things I could have done differently.”
The ache beneath my ribs is not from my exertion. It twists and pulls, making it hard to breathe as I relive the absolute worst day of my life.
I should have waited for more security to come, I could have driven slower, I didn’t check to see if her belt was on. When we went to the beach that day, I should have rented a cabana so we would have stayed hidden.
Over and over. I played the scenarios in my head for so long.
But I’m finally realizing that maybe it wasn’t all my fault.
Billie turns her face and rests it on my chest, then just lets me hold her even though I don’t deserve to. Since I proved incapable of keeping my girlfriend safe six years ago, I haven’t deserved much of anything.
“So after I recovered and went through physical therapy, I switched my focus and trained in boxing, then jujitsu, which is where I met Gio. One thing led to another, and I figured what better job for me than one where I keep busy saving people. Figured the least I could do is protect people to make up for not being able to protect Zoe. Risk my life to save someone else’s.
“I couldn’t get a release from the orthopedic surgeon that my leg was back to a hundred percent, so I couldn’t join the military.
“I wanted to do something where I put myself on the line for someone else. I needed to make it up somehow. Take a bullet for someone else. I knew myself enough, though, to know I could never do a forty hour a week gig, and since she was famous, there was security at her goddamned funeral. That was where I met Erik.