Rush (Trojan Book 4)

by S. M. West

  What is this man doing to me? My world is completely and totally upside down, and I’m not sure it’ll ever right itself again.

  More importantly, and worrisome, I’m not sure if I want things to be the way they were. Compared to now, when I’m with Eli, my life was dull and flat, and it scares the hell out of me.

  16

  Eli

  She’s gunning for Pru

  “Hey, I called you last night. Everything okay?”

  “Uh-huh. I went to bed early.” She hoists her bag over her shoulder. “I can’t talk right now. I’ve got to talk to Tristan.”

  Before I can say another word, Pru’s a flurry of blonde hair and a flowing skirt, the quick clips of her heels, walking away from me.

  Ever since our great weekend, she’s been dodging me. It’s subtle, and if I wasn’t so sure, I might even question my sanity. But I’m certain of it—she is avoiding me.

  In addition to spending Friday night at the TWA Hotel, Pru hung with us all day Saturday, running errands and stuff, and she came over Sunday morning for brunch.

  She was supposed to join us for dinner at Mia and Tripp’s to see their son, the new addition to their family, but she bailed at the last minute.

  My gut tells me that was her plan all along. Pru said yes when I put her on the spot but had no intention of going. And in some ways, I get it.

  She doesn’t know Mia and Tripp, and a new baby can be viewed as something personal, for family, even if it’s furthest from the truth. And there’s her comment about not being good with kids, although I don’t see it.

  Then at work, things were normal, or at least that’s what I thought since we hardly have any time together. But at the end of the day, she had an excuse every time I asked to see her.

  All week, something prickly and unsettling nags at my insides. Pru’s pulling away. Did I go too fast too soon?

  I’m taking things slow. Yes, we did things out of order. First sleeping together and now getting to know each other, but for me it’s more than just sex. As much as I want her, I won’t take it there until we’re both ready.

  And maybe that’s the problem. Getting to know each other is too much of an investment for Pru.

  It’s now Friday, a week since Roll-A-Rama, and before I leave, I walk through the studio, looking for Pru. No one has seen her. I’ll call her later, maybe. If she’s trying to avoid me, space might be best.

  When I near the corridor to Bryce’s office, raised angry voices draw my attention and I pause, listening in case Pru’s among them.

  “You need to get rid of her now.” It’s a woman, her tone high-pitched and infuriated, and vaguely familiar although I can’t readily place her.

  I’m certain it isn’t Sonia or anyone on the set, and is this woman speaking to Bryce? None of the cast or crew would speak to him like this, as if he were there to do their bidding.

  “I don’t need to do anything. This is my fucking movie and I call the shots.” Now that’s Bryce, and he’s enraged.

  He might as well be talking to me for how clearly I hear him even as I’m many feet away from his office.

  Cautiously, I inch toward the open door, and the woman says, “Bryce, you have to listen to me. I can’t have her working in Manhattan. She has to pay for what she did and you letting her work here—”

  “Whit, I feel for you, I do. But I’m not getting involved. I’m not here to fix your marriage or teach Ross a lesson, as much as I’d like to. I’ve got enough problems with him without your shit. Anyway, whatever happened isn’t all on her. My brother’s an asshole.”

  “Don’t you think I know Ross needs to pay and he is, believe me, he is. But Pru Edwards can’t get away with what she did.”

  My stomach clenches at the mention of Pru, and I stop just outside the door. It’s sneaky for me to eavesdrop like this. Yet, I want to help Pru, and from what she’s told me, she doesn’t understand why this woman has it out for her.

  Bryce is in my line of sight and he’s shaking his head, not aware I’m here. “You’re not fucking listening.”

  He huffs out a sour laugh and stabs his sister-in-law with a fierce look of contempt. “I’m not getting rid of her. Not that I owe you anything, but she’s doing a good job. The cast likes her, and I need to get this film done on time.”

  “You’re not listening.” Whitney’s back is to the door, and she leans into the desk, closer to Bryce. “My family has a lot of sway in this city. Just imagine if we shut you down before you could finish the film. Imagine how much money would be lost. What would the big movie execs say then about the talented Bryce Carmichael?”

  I slide away from the door, hearing more than I should have and not wanting to get caught. I don’t need to be embroiled in their hate-on for each other.

  “Don’t fucking threaten me, Whit,” is the last thing I hear from Bryce before I hustle out of the studio and head home to my daughter for the evening.

  That night, we have our regular video call with Gray, Daisy, and Henry. Then it’s Crystal’s bedtime, and after reading a book together, I turn out the lights and saunter into the kitchen.

  My phone buzzes and Gray’s face pops up on my screen. Another video call so soon?

  “Hey, what’s up? You miss me already?” I open the fridge and grab a beer.

  “I thought I’d harass you some more.”

  Gray and I don’t do feelings and shit, but we know how to unearth whatever’s bothering the other in an annoying, in-your-face kind of way.

  “Ah, just what I want. You on my ass.” I take a long pull of the beer, ambling toward the sofa.

  “What is it?” His smile is tight, and his gaze never leaves mine. “Something is bothering you.”

  That’s an understatement. I’ve got a lot on my mind where Pru’s concerned. Most pressing is the conversation I overheard between Bryce and Whitney. I’ve wanted to call her all night, but her behavior toward me has me second-guessing if I should.

  “Remember the woman I told you about?”

  “The one from The Salon? Pru?” He arches a brow and I nod, bending a knee to perch the phone there comfortably.

  “Yeah. Well, she’s pulling away and as far as I can tell, I didn’t screw things.”

  “You sure? Guys are pretty clueless.”

  “Said the clueless guy.”

  He laughs. “No arguments here. Have you tried talking to her?”

  “That’s the thing. Our conversations have been short, usually at work where both of us have some place else to be. And if I call at night, it goes to voicemail. If I text, I usually get short responses several hours later.”

  “Sounds like a brush-off to me.”

  “Exactly.” I rake a hand through my hair. “What should I do?”

  “You really like her, don’t you?”

  Now it’s my turn to quirk a brow, needing no response and not sure if I can trust myself to say the words without my voice cracking. This shit is worse than high school.

  “Call her. Or better yet, she lives in the same building, right? Go to her place.”

  The thought crossed my mind and while she won’t be thrilled, she hasn’t given me any other choice. And I do have to talk to her about Whitney.

  “Thanks, G. I have a house call to make.”

  “All right. That’s what I’m talking about. I expect a full report tomorrow.”

  “Fuck off, perv.” I stand, leaving the beer on the table. “Night. Talk later.”

  I leave Janet to watch Crystal and moments later, I’m outside the penthouse. Fortunately, the doorman knows we’re seeing each other, and he doesn’t announce my arrival.

  Pru opens the door, and this time she’s wearing a Tom Petty Wildflowers T-shirt. My mouth hangs open and I point from her shirt to mine. I’m wearing Petty too—Great Wide Open.

  We both start laughing, and she yanks me by the wrist into her place. I’m not going to lie, I love how something as simple and insignificant as similar T-shirts only proves how well suited we are
.

  “See, we are in sync when it comes to music.” I pull at the hem of her shirt.

  “Do you have cameras in my place or something?” She looks to the corners of the ceiling as if trying to find them.

  “Nope. This is just us, baby.” I slide an arm around her waist and pull her flush against me.

  It may be too much too soon, but this past week has felt like we’ve erased any ground we’ve made. And that isn’t acceptable.

  She gasps, staring up at me. “Can’t argue with that, can I?”

  “No.” My knuckles brush against her warm cheek, causing her golden lashes to flutter.

  The longer I stare, devouring her pretty features and sweet, intoxicating scent, the harder it is to breathe.

  “This is…” Her voice is almost a whisper and breathless. “It’s too funny and also kind of freaky.”

  “Freaky in a sexy kind of way.” My voice dips to near husky as I force myself to step back, hooking an arm around her neck and tucking her into my side.

  Effortlessly, her arm glides around my waist. “I’m glad you came over.”

  “Me too.” I kiss the top of her head and we walk in silence toward the kitchen where she gets us beers.

  We return to the living room and sit next to each other on the couch. Pru scoots back a bit, facing me, and crosses her legs in front of her. “I’m sorry about this week. I really was busy.”

  “And avoiding me.”

  “A little.” She looks down at her lap and then up at me again. “Tell me about your week.”

  “It was fine. A little lonely without you.”

  Eyes cool, smile shy, she brings the bottle to her lips and drinks. Clearly, she wants me to take the lead and I go with work first.

  “Well, you see how things are going on set. Bryce is pissing us off with his indecisiveness.” I stretch my neck from side to side, trying to erase the tension of the day.

  No, make that the week. It’s been a long one. Although Bryce’s mood now makes more sense if he’s had Whitney breathing down his back.

  “I noticed. Why’s he suddenly second-guessing things?”

  “Don’t know. But he keeps changing his mind on that one scene.”

  “He even asked me about it.” She leans toward me. “And I gave him my two cents, for what it’s worth.”

  “That’s good. Okay, so I overheard a conversation between Bryce and Whitney, and I feel you should know.”

  “What?” She leans back, shoulders rising as if bracing for impact.

  I recount the conversation, sure to convey how upset both were, especially Whitney with Pru, and Bryce’s comeback.

  “Bryce said that? He was happy with the job I’m doing?”

  “Yeah, you don’t have to worry about him replacing you.” I squeeze her knee. “But why would Whitney want you fired? And what did she mean about what you did? Obviously, it has something to do with Ross.”

  She frowns, mashing her lips together. “It sounds like Whit thinks something happened between Ross and me.”

  At first, she’s hard to read, and I can’t tell if something did happen with Whitney’s husband, which I don’t want to even contemplate for so many reasons.

  Her gaze sweeps my face, and whatever is there causes her to relax, inch closer. “I don’t get why Whitney thinks so. Ross and I are…no, were friends and business partners and nothing more. What bothers me is how convinced she is. When I talked to her not too long ago, she never wavered. But why?”

  17

  Eli

  Free fallin’

  “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Thanks for telling me about the conversation.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah. I’ve been hoping it would go away, but no such luck.” She places the beer bottle on the side table. “I’m going to talk to both of them.”

  “Okay, enough talk about that. Just know, if you need my help in any way, I’m here.” My fingers trace a lazy pattern on her bare knee, and her gaze falls to where we’re touching. “How was your week?”

  “Good. Busy. I had an interview with the UN.”

  I think back to one day this week when she was gone from the set for several hours. I had wondered where she was but didn’t ask, not wanting to push any more than I already was.

  “Really? What would you do?”

  “Translations.” She frowns.

  “Don’t you want the job?”

  “Not really.”

  “Then why apply?”

  “You make it sound so simple. I need a job.”

  “Do you need help financially while you’re looking?”

  “No. No. I’m good, more than good. Anyway, enough about that. What else is going on with you?”

  I hesitate, wondering if this is her way of making up for her avoidance or because she feels obligated to ask or seem interested. Pru doesn’t strike me as the type to do something because it’s expected.

  “Looks like the indie film might fall through.”

  “Oh no.”

  “Yeah. One of the investors walked, and without another investor of equal or more backing, they can’t fund the project.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “We’ll try to find another investor, and I’ll keep looking and talking to people about other projects. Something will turn up eventually, but this film was perfect as my first one out of the gate.”

  “I’m sorry, Eli.”

  “It’s the nature of the business.” I shrug. “I also received scripts for the upcoming season of Breaking Point. We start filming soon.”

  “Oh, cool. I started watching Breaking Point.” Her eyes lift to mine, shining.

  “You did?” Her confession sends a wave of heat rushing down my spine. “I’m flattered that ‘Miss I don’t do TV’ is watching my show.” I lean into her and my blood heats as she bites her bottom lip. “And what did you think?”

  “I love Troy Valiant.” She closes the gap between us until we’re only a breath apart. “He’s a bastard.”

  Her lips slide over mine in a phantom kiss. It’s over all too quickly, and she’s pulling back. My mind and body race in different directions, creating a dizzying sensation.

  I blink back the urge to ravage her and tilt my head back, releasing a deep, amused laugh. Troy Valiant is the character I play.

  “That seems to be the consensus, especially among the women.”

  “Really? And how many women want Troy? Or more accurately, Eli Lansing?” She’s bold, eyes glittering with intense desire as she climbs into my lap.

  “I don’t care. You’re all I want.” Grabbing her face with both hands, I kiss her, tongue seeking the core of her mouth as I swallow every one of her sultry whimpers.

  I suck once more on her mouth, slowly pulling back, and she groans loudly, maybe even a little frustrated.

  “I missed you this week.”

  “Me too.” Her hand caresses my jaw.

  I want to ask why she pulled away but now isn’t the time. Pru is in my arms, about to kiss me. I’d be a fool to say anything.

  Hand on my face, her soft, full lips crush mine, and I’m single minded, only wanting to get lost in this woman. The kiss is deep and commanding, investing all of this past week’s frustration and longing into every thrust of my tongue.

  Pru slides her hands under my T-shirt and my muscles contract, urging her on. To touch, take all she wants.

  “Let’s go upstairs.” Her hands fall away, and the loss is almost unbearable until she takes my hand.

  In silence, we head upstairs to her room and take our clothes off. Beyond the window, the city lights provide enough of a glow to stare into each other’s eyes.

  When she’s fully bare, I hiss, fisting my cock and pumping it a few times as I greedily consume her naked body. Desire grows and coils through every muscle in my body.

  “Pru.” I close the space between us, gaze firmly fixed on hers despite how much I want to admire her body. “Are you sure?”


  She nods and I shake mine, gifting her a smirk. She knows the drill. “I need you to say it, sweetheart.”

  Her breath hitches on the last word, and her lips part. “Yes. I’m sure.”

  “Now this may come as a surprise, but I don’t have any condoms. Do you have some?”

  She quirks a brow and purses her lips, enjoying this far too much. “Why didn’t the rock star come prepared?”

  I chuckle, raking a hand through my hair, and she stills, eyes darkening when I drag my other hand down the center of her chest.

  Her nipples are like diamonds, peaked and stiff. Pru holds her breath, watching me trace idle circles along her stomach, edging farther and farther south until my knuckles graze the light curls on her mound. Goosebumps rise on her creamy skin.

  “Eli.” My name is near breathless, and her legs tremble.

  “Pru. Condom.”

  “That drawer.” She points, and I’m there and back in a flash.

  I slide it on and lower my head to her tight nipple, pulling it into my mouth and circling my tongue around it until she’s writhing.

  Her bright pink nails sink into my shoulders, and I move on to the other breast. Eventually, I pull away, flicking my thumb over a hard bud, and she moans.

  My lips press to her sternum and every ounce of flesh down to her flat stomach, unable to get enough of her. Then on my knees, I pinch her peak and massage her breast, keeping her hot, aching for me, as my mouth travels south.

  Fingers stroke gently between her legs and I groan at how ready she is, barely hanging on to my restraint.

  “Fuck, Pru, you’re so wet.” She thrusts her hips into my hand, no words needed, and I reassure her, “I’ve got you, sweetheart.”

  Nudging her back onto the bed, I widen her legs and bring my head between her thighs. My tongue licks between her lips, spreading her open for me, and she whimpers, arching her back and fingers finding my hair.

  “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to taste you?”

  She’s tart with a touch of sweet, and when I sweep my tongue across her clit, her body jumps, hips and ass leaving the mattress.