Clearly, the man was unstable. Through the fear seizing my muscles, I said, “You’re hurting me.”
He blinked. Released my arm. Huffed. “You need me, baby. Look.” He retrieved my crutch but held the metal aide with two hands. “Clearly, you’re in need of help. It’s fate, us bumping into each other. Let me help you to your apartment. We can talk.”
“There’s nothing to discuss.”
Rolling his eyes, he hissed, “Our future.”
“We don’t have a future,” I said, jerking the crutch from his hands.
The asshole laughed and stepped back, settling on his heels and crossing his arms. “We do now. I got rid of your boyfriend. He’s not coming around anymore. I made it clear you belong to me.”
“My boyfriend?” My veins went ice cold.
Leaning down, he hissed, “Don’t play stupid. You got my texts and the photos. That guy outside the bank. The one who had his hands all over you.”
Caleb. Oh, God. He hadn’t shown up for our meeting with the Rossi Corporation. He wouldn’t have missed that meeting by choice. “Got rid of?”
“I let him know I was back in your life. Gave him a taste of what would happen if he touched you again.”
“How did you find me?”
“I’ll always find you, Nats. Always. Because you’re mine.”
“Holden, this is…” I staggered back a step, then caught my balance. Oh, God. What should I do? Play on his emotions or scream for help? Surely, somebody would hear.
“I’m not feeling so well. Can we talk tomorrow?”
“You owe me one uninterrupted conversation, Nats. Let’s go upstairs.” Strong fingers cinched my arm. “Just hear me out, and you’ll see. Everything will be fine.”
The door behind me opened. “Hey, Natalie,” came a soft voice. “Oh, no. What happened?” My neighbor, who also waitressed at The Truck Stop Diner, stepped between me and Holden, her blue eyes wide with worry, her breaths labored, like she’d sprinted down ten flights of stairs.
“Hey, Tuuli.” I’d never been so happy to see another human being in my life. “Just a little fall. Twisted my ankle. I’m fine.”
“Who’s your friend?” she asked, her hand linking with mine and giving it a squeeze.
Strange.
We were friendly, but not holding hands friendly, and though she served me on more than one occasion at the diner, she was a woman of few words, and while I knew she lived in the penthouse of my building with her husband, we’d never bumped into each other outside of the restaurant.
“I’m her boyfriend,” Holden announced, inching closer, offering his hand. “Holden Oswald Travers The Third.”
Bile rose in my throat. But sweet Jesus, I was thankful for the petite body next to me, her size small but her presence mighty.
“Oh. Nice to meet you.” Tuuli gave Holden a firm shake, then gasped and stepped back. “HOTraversFitness.” She laughed, clutching her heart. “I follow you on Insta.”
Holden smiled, his spine straightening.
My stomach twisted. What the actual F-word was happening?
“That’s me,” he said, chest expanding.
“My husband is a huge fan. That series you did on core health and sexual endurance.” She ducked her head and laughed. “Life changing. You saved our relationship.”
“Not surprised.” Holden puffed like a peacock. “That’s a popular series.”
“He’s upstairs,” Tuuli continued. “He’d love to meet you.” She grabbed my hand once again. “Maybe you’ve heard of him, Cole Adams.” Squeeze. Squeeze. “He’s famous in the fight world. Not as famous as you, though.”
Cole was not upstairs. Only a few minutes had passed since he called. How Tuuli got involved, how she even knew Cole’s name, I hadn’t a clue, but what the heck did it matter?
The little actress had Holden. Hook. Line. Sinker.
Any chance for Holden to meet a celebrity, he was all in. Any opportunity to promote his brand, he was game.
“Yeah. Yeah. Sure.” Holden cupped my face, rubbed my bottom lip with his thumb. “Nats and I were just heading up anyway.”
Killed me, but I played along, allowing Holden to wrap his beefy arm around my shoulder and help me hobble inside and then to the penthouse private elevator.
I tried and failed to speak on the ride up, which didn’t matter because Tuuli and Holden rattled on about breathing techniques and stretching.
We were greeted inside the lavish home by a short and deadly gorgeous woman, a wiggling toddler in her arms. She looked vaguely familiar, but came at me like we were besties and hooked me in a tight, one arm hug, effectively freeing me from Holden’s embrace. “Good God, Natalie. What happened? You shouldn’t be on your feet.” She landed a kiss on my cheek and whispered, “Play along,” before shooing me to the other room, settling me on the couch, and shoving the child into my arms.
“Where’s your husband?” Holden asked, his gaze sliding to me, then toward the stairs, then back to the two women at his side.
“He’s in his office. I’ll call him down.” Tuuli moved around the kitchen island, grabbed her cell, and with thumbs moving across her phone screen, said, “Holden, this is Aida. Aida, Holden.”
“Nice to meet you, Aida.” His offered hand hung in the air for five heartbeats, his cheeks reddening. He finally cleared his throat and dropped his arm to his side, eyeing her warily.
I almost laughed. The two of them looked as though they’d planned their matching outfits, both donning black, zipped hoodies that stretched tight over fit bodies. While Aida wore leggings and Moto boots, Holden wore black jeans and Danners.
Aida, though small in stature, stood regal and commanding, sizing up Holden like they were opponents in the ring. “Damn, you’re huge.” She crossed her arms and started to circle. “What are you, one-eighty, one-eighty-five?”
Holden laughed, his chest swelling. “You’re good. One-eighty-seven this morning.”
“Hmm,” she said, crossing her arms and planting her feet in front of his. “You a fighter?”
The baby fussed and wiggled in my arms, clearly not happy to be constrained by a stranger. I shifted her from my right thigh to my left and bounced my foot, my heartbeat a thunderous roar.
“No.” He smirked, gave Aida his practiced smile, his gaze slicing to me once again before he said, “I’m a lover.”
Cringeworthy? Oh, God, yes.
But Holden wasn’t finished. He continued, “Isn’t that right, Nats?”
Aida, bless her soul, didn’t give me time to react. Dropping her hands to her sides, she shook her head. “That’s not what I hear, big guy.” She threw a wink at me over her shoulder.
Tuuli moved into the far corner of the kitchen, giving me a reassuring smile. Her eyes held wisdom far beyond her twenty-something years.
Aida stepped closer to Holden. “I hear you’ve been harassing my girl over there. Sending her vile messages.”
Face a fiery shade, Holden ran a hand through his hair, shot me a glare. “Babe. Time for us to go.”
“She isn’t going anywhere, you big, ridiculous waste of space.” Eye level with Holden’s chest, Aida raised her chin.
Fists clenched, Holden stared down at the feisty warrior, the vein in his temple bulging, a warning.
My stomach lurched. What a fool I’d been, bringing Holden and his volatile temper into a stranger’s home. I needed to get him far away from these women.
Lifting the child to my shoulder, I tried to stand on my one good leg. The baby squirmed and then pulled at my hair, giggling, and I fell back into the cushion at the same time Holden shouted, “Babe, let’s—”.
The floor shook with a loud boom. I looked up to find Holden on his knees. Aida moved fast, her arms a blur, striking Holden somewhere on his neck, once, twice. He fell face first on the hard, black tile.
Tuuli tossed Aida a rope. She bound Holden’s hands, then his feet.
The child continued to squeal and yank on my hair.
; As if she hadn’t just taken down a man three times her size, Aida sauntered my way, untangled her daughter’s fingers, then lifted her off my lap. “That was fun.” She clicked her tongue. “Thought he’d put up more of a fight, though.”
“Want coffee?” Tuuli asked from the kitchen.
“Ummmm.” My head spun. Stomach protested.
“I’m Aida,” the deadly bombshell said. “We needed to do this inside. No witnesses.” She winked. Kissed her daughter on the head. “You look familiar. Have we met?”
Tuuli shouted, “You’ve seen her in the diner.”
“Ah.” Aida nodded. “That’s it.”
“I’m so confused.”
“And you’re trembling.” Tuuli came my way and shoved a mug into my hand before pulling a soft knit blanket around my shoulders and said, “Aida’s been studying martial arts since before she could walk.” As if that explained everything.
The giant door slid open and a large, brooding man barreled through followed by Tango, and then, thank you Jesus, Cole.
Four long strides, and he knelt at my feet, inspecting, eyes frantic with worry. “Jesus. Fuck. Did he hurt you?”
I shook my head.
“Fuckin’ hell, Aida. You left nothin’ for us to do.” That came from the man with the scar, Tuuli’s husband.
“Really, Tits?” Aida smirked. “You would’ve made a mess. Lots of blood and broken dishes. I saved you the trouble.”
Tango stood over Holden, phone in his hand, shit-eating grin on his face. “Natalie, how you wanna handle this? I can call the cops or we can make him disappear.”
Hands trembling, I grabbed Cole’s collar and pulled him closer. “He’s kidding, right?”
Forehead to mine, he released a harsh breath and laughed. “He’s kidding, sunshine. Cops are on their way.”
I was reading the last twisted line of The Wives, half cringing, half cheering for Thursday when my front door opened then closed.
Cole toed off his shoes, then came my way, his gait heavy, face grim.
“So?”
“Holden’s going away for a long time. His prints were all over Caleb’s car and in his home. Long list of charges.”
The past few days had worn Cole down, his burdens heavy judging by the slope of his shoulders and the dark circles around his eyes.
“What about Caleb?”
He stalked forward and sighed. “Beat to hell, but he’ll survive.”
“I need to talk to him. Explain.” I fought a lip quiver. “Apologize.”
“He knows it wasn’t your fault.” Cole dusted a finger over my forehead, then tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, eliciting a full body shiver.
He was so close, his breaths warming my cheeks. Whatever he’d eaten for lunch must’ve been loaded with garlic, but I didn’t care. Cole was in my home, towering over me, and I was safe, warm, and wanted.
He pinched my glasses at the bridge, slid them off my face, and laid them on the coffee table. His dimples popped before he brushed soft kisses on the left corner of my mouth, then the right.
“How’re you feeling?”
“My head hurts.”
Weary eyes studied mine. “What can I do? How can I help?”
“Kiss me again?”
Cole pressed his forehead to mine. Sighed. Kissed my nose. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“My tongue doesn’t hurt so much anymore.”
“That’s good.”
I urged him to sit next to me, then stood and made a show of shimmying out of my jeans.
“Sunshine, I don’t think we should push it,” he grumbled but made no move to stop me. He wore a scowl, his mood dark.
“I don’t think I can wait another second.” My shirt was next, then my bra. Then my panties.
Cole didn’t move.
I pinched a nipple, rolling the hard flesh between my fingers. “Lose the shirt, Adams.”
In one smooth motion, he removed his T-shirt and tossed it aside. I stepped between his knees, raked my nails down his stomach, then grabbed the hem of his pants. Still, he didn’t move. I quirked a brow, waiting. With a huff, he lifted his hips and jerked his sweats down to his knees.
Commando. Jeez, what a turn on.
His swollen cock fell against his six pack, the sight so erotic my head buzzed. This man was mine. Mine. Mine.
Skin tingling, insides warm and aching, I gripped his shoulders, planted my knees in the cushions at his hips, and nestled my ass in his lap.
He hit me with a heated gaze full of unspoken promises, unnecessary apologies.
Lips parted, cheeks red, he slapped my ass with one hand, his grip tight and assuring. He stroked his cock with the other and lifted me high enough to position himself at my opening, sliding his head through the moisture before pushing inside.
I slammed down, knowing he’d take it slow.
“Jesus. Fuck.” His head hit the back of the couch with a sharp inhale.
I smiled. Slow was not good. Slow would drive me mad, and I’d had enough crazy for one day.
I needed release. I needed lust and sweat and panting and mindless bliss, and I needed Cole out of his head, out of his mind.
Sweet lord, the stretch, the sweet sweet burn, the feral heat of those beautiful eyes, the rabid grip of his hands on my thighs. The rise and fall of that perfectly sculpted chest.
Neither of us stood a chance.
I leaned forward, close enough to taste his breath. “Say it,” I said, almost a beg, mostly a soft plea. I rolled my hips, just a little. “Tell me what I need to hear.”
Something akin to a growl rose in his throat.
I rolled my hips again, and his jaw clenched.
When he opened his mouth to speak, I silenced him with a kiss. “Say it, baby, please,” I begged.
He opened his mouth again, and I swallowed his words, brushing my battered tongue against his.
His fingers dug deeper into my skin. They’d leave marks. Maybe that was his intention. I couldn’t wait to see them in the mirror. “Say the words, Cole.”
Again, he tried to speak, but I silenced him, pulling his bottom lip between my teeth, rising and falling on his cock, feeling every inch of his hard heat.
A curse escaped his lips.
But finally, finally, a small grin.
Good.
“There’s my guy.”
He huffed. Slapped my ass. “I love you.”
“Yes, you do,” I whispered. “And I love you. But you’re too serious right now. I need your smile.”
He sucked a nipple between his teeth. Licked. Nibbled. Drove me mad.
“I’ll smile after you’ve come all over my dick.”
“Deal.”
His dimples popped, then disappeared, but the dark cloud hanging over us dissipated, and Cole took over, done with my teasing.
The man beneath me was hunger and heat, hard muscle and dirty words, tender touches and desperate thrusts.
He pumped into me, and I chased my release. When I came, my cries bounced off the walls. He grunted his release into my neck, holding me tightly, past the point of passion, our bodies close enough to fuse together.
Wrung dry, I collapsed, my head on his shoulder, his fingers tracing up and down my spine. My body hummed under his touch.
When our breathing slowed, he asked, “Is it bad that I couldn’t wait for your parents to leave?”
“Is it bad that I kicked them out?”
His chest bounced. “You didn’t.”
“I did. They’d planned on staying the week. Mom pretended she was heartbroken, but really, she just wants grandchildren, and as far as she’s concerned, you’re the perfect baby daddy.”
Cole stiffened under me, his warm hands leaving me cold. I sat back, searched his face. Cole looked right through me, lost in thought, and not a good one judging by the wrinkle between his brows.
I pressed a finger where his skin crinkled, rubbing a slow circle. “I didn’t mean to insinuate…” God, did I? Had I assumed
we were heading that direction without cause? He was my one. But we’d only started our long distance love affair, and the beginning had been bumpy to say the least, and though he never talked about the accident, he had lost the unborn child he’d believed to be his, and sometimes I forgot to consider his grief.
I had no idea how to rebound from my slip. To erase the pain off his face. “I need a shower.”
Heart shriveling, naked and vulnerable, I headed toward the bathroom.
Three blissful days passed.
Mind-blowing sex. Deep conversations. Eating. More sex. The subject of children never came up. We never talked about the future, only the present, and select bits of the past, none of which included his time with Victoria.
On our last night together, we ventured out for dinner with the Rossis and their extended family. I made new friends. Cole caught up with old friends.
The day had come for Cole to leave. I woke to an empty bed, the ache in my chest already taking root. Music traveled down the hallway. I followed the tune, that invisible string tensing, drawing me closer to my destiny.
Cole wore a pair of running pants and nothing more. He stood at the coffee machine, tapping his fingers on the counter to the rhythm on the radio, a song I recognized but didn’t know.
He belonged in my kitchen. My bed. My home.
God, how I wanted to keep him there forever, crawl on hands and knees and beg him to stay.
He sang along, messing up the lyrics. I laughed, making him jump.
The smile that greeted me was a heady mix of boyish charm, pure adoration, and a warning—full body collision in three, two, one. Oh, sweet Jesus, his hug was covetous, his kiss an awakening.
“One for the road?” His voice oozed sex.
“Please. Yes.”
He fucked me on my kitchen counter, fast and furious, desperate and unrelenting.
We showered. We dressed. Cole packed his suitcase while I watched from my corner of the bed.
“You’re going back to work tomorrow?” He smoothed his hands over the folded clothes, then turned face me.
I nodded.
“Against doctor’s orders?”
“I can’t stay on top of my game if I’m lounging around my damn apartment all day.”
L.O.V.E. Page 24