Rush (Trojan Book 4)

by S. M. West

  Eventually, we sleep, but wake far too early with Crystal begging to go for a swim. The wedding isn’t until four in the afternoon, and it’s a beautiful sunny day, so the guys plan to take Crystal and Henry to Venice beach to swim and skate along the boardwalk.

  As much as I want to come, I’m using the time to borrow Daisy’s car and check out the two men named in the Black Fox report.

  “You going to be okay?” Eli stands at the driver side of the car, holding the door open for me.

  “Yes. I won’t be long.” I don’t bother to add how I’m no longer sure if it’s worth the trip.

  He places a hand on the nape of my neck and gently squeezes. “I wish I could come with you. Gray would be okay hanging with the kids. He could call Jared or Silas to join him.”

  “No. This is his wedding day. You guys should hang out. I want you to. I’ll be back in a few hours. You won’t even miss me.”

  “Not a chance.” His kiss is soft and quick. “Call me if anything comes up or you need to talk.”

  I nod, and a lump quickly forms in my throat. Despite how different our childhoods were, he’s been nothing but understanding and supportive. Eli grew up in a loving home with both parents, but some of his close friends, namely Jared and Gray, have had less than the traditional family unit.

  He hasn’t told me their stories—it isn’t my business nor his to tell—but he’s seen how not knowing where you came from can have an impact on your life even if he hasn’t walked in my shoes.

  And as grateful as I am for that, I don’t want my search to overshadow or take away from why he’s here. This weekend is about making new and lasting memories with his friends, who he calls family, and I don’t want any of my baggage to drag that down.

  “Okay, I better go. Have fun.” I hop into the car and drive away.

  The next few hours are a bust. The movie star isn’t where he is supposed to be, and I spend my time at the exclusive country club, where Black Fox managed to get me a day pass, nursing my iced tea.

  Then I take off for Brentwood, only to drive by the mansion owned by the retired tennis pro. I glimpse him leaving in a car with two women. The one next to him in the passenger seat could be his wife and in the back seat, his daughter. She’s my age, according to the report from Black Fox.

  Crestfallen, I follow the car toward the highway before the insanity and futility of what I’m doing hits me. This was a waste of time. I’m left hollow and even more confused. Will knowing who my father is change anything? I doubt I’ll ever speak to him.

  These men I waited for today both have full lives with families, and if I were to come forward, it’s a safe bet that neither would be thrilled. And what if my father is the man who passed away. Then what?

  This search isn’t what I thought it would be. All this gets me is nothing except more heartache and maybe even a greater loss, knowing yet unable to have what I want most.

  If I want to proceed with this, I might have to go to Priscilla. She’s the one with the information and the only person who can tell me what I want to know.

  Does my father know I exist?

  And if so, why hasn’t he come looking for me?

  I get back to Malibu two hours before the wedding and have plenty of time to get ready.

  “How’d it go?” Eli follows me to our room once I’ve said hello to Gray and Jared and Eva.

  “It was a waste of time.” I drop onto the bed, staring down at my hands in my lap. “I saw one through a car window and the other…he wasn’t where he was supposed to be.”

  “Hey, I’m sorry.” Sitting beside me, he hooks an arm around my shoulders.

  “I don’t know what I expected.” I bite my bottom lip, willing the stupid tears to vanish.

  “This can’t be easy. Being so close but still no answers. And you’re sure you can’t ask your mother?”

  Eli has asked before, not quite understanding how cold and distant my mother is and especially on this topic. I’ve tried to explain it to him without painting Priscilla as the villain. I can’t change who she is, and she shouldn’t have had a child.

  She isn’t mother material. She’s brilliant and can even be charismatic and warm when she wants to be. I admire my mother even if she could never give me what I so desperately craved—her unconditional love.

  “I might have to ask her.” I’d been mulling it over on the drive back, not convinced I want to open Pandora’s box. “But for now, for today, I want to forget about it.”

  Now on my feet, I start for the closet, but he moves in behind me, and his fingers expertly work my shoulder muscles. “Okay, but I’m here. I’ll listen anytime.”

  “Thank you. I should get ready so I can help with any last-minute tasks.”

  He turns to face me, placing his hands on my hips and staring down at me. “There’s nothing to do. Seriously. Daisy has everything covered. The caterers are here, setting up outside. The officiant will be here shortly. Go have a shower and get ready.”

  His lips cover mine and just like that, all the disappointment melts away. At least for now. Tonight is about his friends, and I intend to make sure he has a great time.

  26

  Pru

  Killing me softly

  The wedding is beautiful and everything and nothing like I expected. Daisy is breathtaking in a white Grecian style midi dress with a plunging vee cut neckline and tie-up bow straps at the shoulders.

  Her long hair falls in golden waves around her face, and the smile she has for the groom is stunning. Her adoration and joy are palpable, and I almost cry, not sure what has gotten into me.

  When Daisy and her son walk hand in hand down the sandy aisle to the wedding march, my feet curl into the warm sand, seeking something to ground me. I’m nearly swept away by the overwhelming emotion flowing between the three of them.

  Henry is in all white and beyond adorable in dress shorts and a simple polo shirt, and his brown hair is combed neatly off his angel face.

  Gray stands at the water’s edge under a bamboo archway wrapped in bright colorful freesia, white orchids, and of course, daisies. His eyes glisten with happiness and maybe even a few tears.

  While Gray adopted Henry and is his father in every sense of the word, today, he’s marrying both mother and son. He’s made it a point to include Henry in everything, and even though the boy is young and may not remember any of this, Daisy endlessly gushed about how much it means to her. How Gray is the best man and father she could ever dream of for her son.

  After the ceremony, pictures are taken, and despite my objections to being included, no one, and I mean no one, will hear of it. Eli anchors me to his side, and Crystal clutches my hand.

  And after group pictures and the bride and groom are done, the photographer takes shots of individual couples. Eli gets him to take a few pictures of just me and him, then some with Crystal too.

  Dinner comes next, and we eat on the beach at a long, elegantly decorated table with seashells, candles, and flowers. The food is delicious. Seafood, steak, salads. The night has only begun when we get up from the table to dance under the star filled sky.

  Before coming to LA, I worried about feeling like an outsider, but nothing could be further from the truth. Harley aside—and at one point, Ross—I’ve never felt such love and acceptance from a group of people.

  The more time I spend with his friends, the more I don’t want to leave. This trip is too perfect and overwhelming, both surprising and scaring me.

  Eli grabs me by the waist, leading me to the small patch of sand that’s doubling as a dance floor. OneRepublic’s “I Lived” plays, and his hands slide along my rose-colored silk slip dress, bringing me close to him.

  The sensual glide of the material against my skin causes goosebumps to pop, or if I’m being honest with myself, it’s the nearness of Eli.

  Just Eli.

  Every time he touches me or even looks at me, I feel this irrefutable current, an electrifying connection between us. I crave him all the time
and can’t seem to get enough of him.

  I tip my head back to look up at his handsome face, and his eyes darken. “Adele’s ‘Make You Feel My Love.’”

  My breath hitches. Am I reading too much into the song title? No, there’s innuendo, yet the way he looks at me weakens my knees and sends my heart banging against my ribs.

  “‘Killing me Softly’ by the Fugees and Lauryn Hill.” Look who’s dishing out the double meaning now.

  A big grin spreads across his face. “Good one. You having fun?”

  “Absolutely.” I peer around him at the vast sea at his back and the rhythmic crashing of the waves onto the shore. “It’s magical.”

  Not too far from us, Crystal holds Henry’s hands, and together, they twirl and twirl around and around then collapse in a fit of giggles onto the sand.

  “You’re gorgeous.” His smoldering gaze dips to my cleavage, peeking out from the cowl neckline. “I love this dress.”

  I shiver, and my nipples harden under his admiration. Tiny spaghetti straps hold up the dress with an open back, curving in a U shape at the base of my spine.

  He leans down to kiss at my shoulder. “What would be better is you out of this dress.”

  His thumb traces lazy circles on my lower back, intensifying my addiction for this man.

  “Hmmm.” I couldn’t agree more. “You’re pretty darn hot yourself, but I’d prefer you out of these clothes.”

  I pull back, gliding my hands up his hard chest, over the soft linen of his white button-down shirt that’s paired with sand-colored shorts.

  “What do you say about sneaking away for a bit?” His eyes hold a glint of mischief.

  “What about Crystal?” I glance in her direction, and I’m surprised at my question.

  Who am I? Before giving in to the deep desire to have this man, I’m stopping to think about the well-being of his daughter. This isn’t me. I’ve never had to think about anyone but myself.

  “I’ve asked Jared and Eva to watch her.”

  At the mention of his friends, I spy them only feet from the kids, wrapped up in each other, smiling and watching Crystal and Henry play.

  “You’ve thought of everything.”

  Eli doesn’t respond, only taking me by the hand and scurrying toward the house. I should be embarrassed, but I’m consumed with thoughts of him, wanting, no, needing him.

  In our room, Eli presses me against the closed door, leaning in as his mouth nips softly at my ear. His tongue trails down my neck, causing my entire body to tremble.

  He kisses me hard, and I lose all thought. Hands lift my dress to my hips and then his fingers are hooking at the edge of my thong. Before I know it, my panties are on the ground. Images of The Salon come to mind, fast and frantic and hot as hell.

  But this is different. It feels different. We know each other now, and while just as intense and magnetic, there’s a depth to our connection, something else between us that’s unnamed but formidable.

  With every touch and every kiss, Eli’s eyes stay locked on mine. His are layers upon layers of chocolate brown, the outer rings near black and lightening as they narrow to the center of his iris. I’m mesmerized staring into them.

  He makes fast work of shoving down his shorts and boxers, and my hands are shaky with a need to touch him.

  Pulse pounding at the base of my throat, my breath quickens, and I grab for him, fingers curling around his firm, bare ass to bring his crown to my entrance.

  With one hard thrust, he buries himself deep inside me, and an ecstatic moan flies from both our mouths as I lift a leg to curl around his waist.

  “God, Pru, you feel so good.” His hand grips my raised thigh, helping to steady me, and he angles his hips in just the right way, deepening the sensation of him inside me.

  We kiss feverishly, and his rhythm is slow and sensual, stirring heat and electricity between us. It isn’t long before he brings me to the edge like coaxing water to a simmering boil. But he holds back, making sure it isn’t enough to get me there.

  “Eli.” My hands dive into his thick, dark hair, pulling at his strands.

  A feral rumble rips from his throat. “Sweetheart.”

  We gaze into each other’s eyes, and his movements are slow, stroking his length completely out of me before pounding it back inside.

  “Pru, sweet Jesus.”

  His pace is a bittersweet torture, and our bodies are hot and slick, my fingers sliding along his damp skin. One hand grips the back of my neck only amplifying the powerful drives into me.

  My body coils tighter, the closer I am to losing it. Our eyes never stray from each other, and I clench around him as he plunges deeper.

  “Fuck, Pru!” Eli sinks his teeth into his bottom lip on his release, and my name rips me apart, bringing me to orgasm.

  Fingers in his now wet hair, I rest my forehead on his, and warm salty lips kiss me, long and heavenly. When we break apart, his eyes find mine. Breathless from his kisses, I drag in a long breath and smile.

  “Pru, I’m mad for you.” His voice is low and raspy, sending a jolt of electricity surging through my body.

  We lean into each other, waiting for our breaths to even out and our bodies to cool. And that’s when the truth of it, what we’re doing, hits me with the force of a hurricane. I’ve been lying to myself.

  This is more than lust although we have all that and more. We are more than lust and passion. We are love.

  I love him.

  He has my heart.

  If he hurts me, it’ll wreck me forever.

  27

  Eli

  Under the surf

  Surfing the day after the wedding sounded like a good idea at the time, but when the alarm goes off early this morning, I only want to stay in bed with Pru. We fly back to New York later today, and I don’t want this to end.

  These past few days only prove what I already suspected—Pru and I are meant to be. She’s great with Crystal despite her concerns about kids, and my daughter adores her. And my friends love her.

  She easily fit in, and I don’t want to lose this. We don’t have to, but it means making changes. Changes Pru isn’t ready for. Later today, we return to our busy lives and our separate apartments, and our time together will be fragmented and at times, far too short.

  Pretty soon, filming will end and then I won’t have time on set with her to look forward to. I want her to move in with me, but it isn’t what we agreed to, and while I want a long-term relationship, Pru might not feel the same way.

  “Hey, Mr. Instructor, are you going to teach me how to surf or just stand there looking hot in your wet suit?” Pru’s teasing tone pulls me from my muddled thoughts.

  “Hot? You think I’m hot?” I stroll to her side and grab her by the hips, hauling her body against mine. She giggles, biting her lip, and nods.

  “Baby, you’re hot.” Kissing her mouth always turns me into a madman, insatiable, and I can’t help myself.

  “C’mon, show me the moves.” She grabs her board and eagerly stares at the water.

  “We’re not going in there just yet.”

  “What? But this is a surfing lesson.”

  “Yeah, but there’s more to the sport than jumping into the water. Your life is at risk in there, so you need to start with the basics.”

  “Seriously?” She crosses her arms. “Am I going to regret this?”

  “No. The good news is grasping the concept behind the surfboard and the wave can be done fairly quickly.” I lay the board on the sand. “And once you do, you’re ready to get wet. Then it’s practice, practice, practice.”

  I don’t have the heart to tell her we likely won’t make it into the water on the first go. “Okay, so first thing you need to master is lying and balancing on a surfboard.”

  She grumbles but follows my instructions, every so often asking if we’re going in the water yet. It’s at the hour mark when her frustration erupts, and Crystal strolls down to the beach.

  Henry stayed with Pansy and
Silas for the night, and Gray and Daisy went to a hotel. We’re all getting together for lunch before our flight.

  “Hey, Crystal. Are you hungry?” Pru smiles and looks to me as if to say she’s done with her lessons.

  “No. I want to swim.”

  “Okay, just for a bit and then we’ll go in.” I point to a spot not too far away for her to wade in the water, and she ambles across the sand.

  “Okay, back on.” I motion to Pru and then the board on the sand.

  She perches on the board and glares at me, even though there isn’t any heat to it. “Can we please go in the water now? I’m starving and ready to forget about this.”

  She sounds defeated, and I take pity on her, picking up the board. “Can you doggy paddle?”

  Stopping, her gaze narrows and she isn’t impressed with my question. “Don’t make me laugh. Ha. Ha. Ha.”

  The delivery is so familiar, I pause, and it comes to me. “Did you just Danny Zuko me?”

  “Who?” She slants her head to the side.

  “No, you don’t get to play dumb. Although nice acting, have you ever thought of being an actor?”

  “Funny.” Her sarcasm is in full force, and I can’t hold back my laughter. She doesn’t join me but watches, not so amused.

  “You’re a Grease fan?” My shoulders still shake.

  “Grease? Really? That’s old.” She crinkles her nose, but the insult holds no merit. “Come to think of it, you’re pretty old too.”

  “Funny.” I steal her line and snag her around the waist. “I’m only six years older. And I’m the one surfing, not you.”

  She runs toward the ocean and my daughter springs to her feet, following. I grab the board and hit the water. Sure Crystal is with Pru, I paddle for a wave and pop up to catch it while they holler and laugh.

  It’s one of the best feelings, gliding across the water, waiting for that moment to catch a wave. Pru practiced the pop-up countless times on the sand and complained about it, but the move is harder than it looks. They swim toward me once the wave has petered out and I’m coasting.