by Brinda Berry
Fuck.
“Yes?” I yell back in the nicest voice possible.
“I need something.”
I shake my head. Places like this don’t stock up on body wash and scented soaps. She’s probably in there already soaking wet and tempting as sin.
I stride to the door and lean my head against it for a second. Deep breath. “What do you need?”
“You can open the door.”
She is a devil.
“Please,” she adds.
I open the door a crack. Steam rolls out.
“What is it?” My temper threatens. I’ve never thought of her as a tease, but this is plain torture.
I hear the sound of a curtain sliding along the metal bar. “Join me?”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Heart
Current Day
Kiley
The water sprays from the showerhead in erratic spurts, an old plumbing fixture from some other decade.
Gunner steps closer to the shower, his gaze flicking hungrily down my body and back up to my eyes. He doesn’t look away from my face again. “Are you sure?”
I nod. “Come here,” I plead, my voice husky.
He closes the distance between us, placing his hands on both sides of my wet hair, slanting his mouth against mine in a deep kiss.
His tongue strokes the softness of my mouth and he hums, low and deep in his throat.
I push him back. “Your clothes.”
The fabric of his dress shirt clings to his chest in wet spots. He straightens and unbuttons his shirt without ever breaking eye contact.
Shivers run along my spine in a dance of pleasure. My breasts feel heavy, my nipples pebbled like flowers reaching for the sun.
His gaze drops to my body and he smiles with a devilish lift of one side of his lips, a flash of white teeth.
Gunner kicks off his shoes, pushes his slacks down and steps out of them. His boxers follow. He takes only a moment to place his clothing and wallet on the counter.
My mouth goes dry and anticipation pools at my core.
His wide chest tapers perfectly to a slim waist. A hard V of muscle leading to his manhood.
Forget Michelangelo’s David. Gunner is a living piece of art. I could stare at him all day. But it’s more than his perfect proportions. Or the way his muscles in his powerful thighs flex when he takes a step.
He exudes confidence and power. He’s not embarrassed for me to see him.
Gunner steps naked into the bathtub with me on the opposite side from the showerhead. He’s already fully aroused, and I shyly look away from his thick cock.
He gently drags me against the full length of his body, allowing me to revel in the hardness of every inch. The throb between my legs aches as I run my hands over the muscles of his broad back.
His mouth cascades kisses down my neck and across my shoulders. Stubble scrapes the sensitive area along the swell of my breast. He lingers for a second over my nipple, then draws it into his mouth and sucks.
Every nerve ending in my body fires at once, tingling in a burst of need for more. My fingers dig into his shoulders, his muscles bunching underneath my hold.
“Gunner,” I moan.
“I’m here.” He twirls me around to face the spray of the hot water and wraps one arm around me, teasing and tweaking my sensitive nipple as he places openmouthed kisses on the back of my neck.
Desire pools at my core, throbbing and needy.
All I can feel is hot, slick skin.
His cock juts against me, prodding me to let him in.
“Put your hands on the wall, sweetheart.” He slides his other hand low, between my thighs. His long fingers trace along my folds until he inserts a finger.
My legs tremble, but he holds me with his arm around my waist. I’m weightless and completely under his command. Willing to do whatever it takes to ease the urgency filling my body.
“Good?” he asks.
He expects me to talk? I nod, hoping it’s enough. That he won’t stop what he’s doing. He slides his finger in and out of my center, then back inside.
He curls his finger and a building pressure pushes me to beg. “Yes, yes, yes.”
“Fuck, yes,” he agrees. The low growl of his voice sends thrills into my belly.
He stops and pulls away. There’s the sound of the sliding shower curtain. I panic, looking back and ready to pull him back to me. Curse him. Plead with him.
Instead, he turns back to me and rips a condom wrapper open with his teeth. Sheathing himself, he returns to stroking me from behind.
I wiggle my ass against him, moaning and wanton. Desperate.
He moves his hand forward, stroking my clit as he enters me. Each slide of his body into mine increases the foreign sounds emerging from my throat. Silence is beyond my control. A blinding desire rushes through me to take all he will give. “More,” I demand. “Oh, Gun—”
The moment he slides inside me, I’m lost. Only aware of his skin and the way his hands grip my shoulders. He enters me with the measured skill of a man intent on drawing out each moment.
Painfully slow.
“Tell me what you want,” he murmurs, his lips touching the spot between my shoulder blades. “You are my heaven. Mine.”
“Faster. Gun. Please, please, please.” I should be embarrassed to beg, but I’m not.
His big hands move to my hips and his thrusts come faster, eliciting needy sounds from me.
I’m losing myself. My body only knows the pleasure of him.
Joy.
Need.
The luxury of his touch. The surety of something being right.
My core pulses around his cock and I’m barely conscious of his own throaty moan as he releases. He folds me into his embrace, nuzzling into the back of my neck.
* * *
Gunner massages the shampoo from my hair and tenderly kisses me under the spray of the water. We make love a second time and I wonder if the water will run out in this place.
Our lovemaking is intense and confusing. At least it’s confusing to me.
He doesn’t act like it’s just sex.
Sex, I might be able understand from a man who says he can’t give me more.
He whispers sweetheart and beautiful and darling into my skin.
He caresses me, vows to tell me all his secrets.
When he places his hand gently across my throat and holds me still only so he can tenderly place kisses along my cheeks and across my eyelids, I think I’ll die from pleasure.
The water begins to run cold and we step out, laughing at the sudden change in temperature, and drying each other with the stiff, cheap towels of the motel. He finds a blanket in the closet and wraps me in it. Then he dries my hair with the motel’s hair dryer.
We sit on the edge of the bed. The paper-thin comforter scratches me where it touches skin. I sit between his thighs, running my hands along the muscles of his long legs. He uses his fingers to comb through the strands of my long hair, seeming to revel in the feel.
Gunner points the dryer into my hair, then kisses my neck, then dries some more strands. He seems fascinated with smoothing out my hair, and the thought makes me smile.
We crawl into the covers naked and I love the way he wraps his arms and legs around me. “No snoring,” he says into the top of my hair.
“No hogging the covers,” I reply.
“I am your covers.”
“Then make sure you don’t go anywhere.” I snuggle into his arms. Fine hairs tickle my nose when I kiss his forearm.
“I’m not leaving this bed,” he yawns. “Not even to get a bag of chips, and I’m starving.”
“You’d better not go anywhere.”
He lifts onto one elbow and leans over me. “Hey.”
“Hm?” I lift one eyebrow.
“Do you think you could match me up with this hot brunette? She’s about five-six. Fine junk in the trunk. Tits that taste like ambrosia…”
I smack him on the shoulder with my palm. “Shut up.
”
He returns to holding me. “We do need to talk about the show later.”
“Later,” I agree and block it from my mind.
* * *
I wake to a dark room with light bleeding in around the edges of the heavy window curtain. My phone beeps and I slip from Gunner’s arms to check the text.
Tony: You’d better not be in there with him. I’m outside a motel in bumfuck Missouri.
I swing my feet off the side of the bed and carefully stand. What’s Tony doing here and how did he know where to find us? Maybe I can ignore it.
Tony: Are you trying to kill your father’s show and all the hard work he’s put in for years? What’s the matter with you?
Kiley: One minute. I’m coming out.
My clothes are neatly piled on the chair in the corner of the room. I tiptoe over and get dressed. Gunner never stirs. I grab my purse, since I can probably find a vending machine while I’m out there.
Once outside, I see Tony’s SUV parked next to Gunner’s Jeep.
What the hell? He signals for me to get inside his running car.
I hop in and he backs out. “Where are we going?” I ask in a panic.
“You know what? I’m tired of taking the blame for your impulsive stunts. You’re a big girl and you should know how bad this looks.”
“Hold up. You are way out of line. Turn around and take me back.”
“Put your seat belt on,” he orders. “And listen to me.”
“You can’t just show up and kidnap me.” I glare at him. “How the hell did you know I was in there?”
“GPS app on Gunner’s phone. It’s part of what we do to keep up with the stars of the show. And you should know that every yahoo between here and Canada has a smartphone and could be taking pictures of you two.”
“No one took a photo and no one knows. Take me back before Gunner wonders what happened to me.”
“You are not going back with him. Someone took your picture already. Posted it on Twitter. Did you stop at a convenience store yesterday, by chance?”
I sit silent.
“How is the Forever show supposed to work when my bachelor and Matchmaker can’t keep their hands off each other?” Tony pulls over on the side of the road. “What do you suggest I do for damage control?”
I shrug like a sulky teenager.
“It’s hard to sell a match for Gunner when you’re sleeping with him.”
“I messed up,” I answer and look miserably out the window. “I don’t know how to fix it.”
I check my cell phone to see if Gunner’s noticed I’m gone. He’ll panic if I’m gone without a word.
“Listen, we’ve known each for a long time. I know you don’t want to ruin your father’s show. And hell, it’s probably much worse for your reputation than the show. But your dad can only take so much of his daughter being called a whore on social media. OK?”
My face heats in indignation. I’m pissed off and regretful at the same time. “You know how all this social media stuff works. It’s part of the business.”
“I’m being blackmailed.” He looks at the roof of his SUV and then back to me.
“What are you talking about?”
“I never meant for any of this to come back on you. I even thought you and I would end up together someday, after you broke off your engagement.”
“Can we get to the blackmailing part? Who and what does it have to do with me?”
“I slept with Addison.” He rubs a hand over his face. “That night I took her back home from the camping trip. We ended up having a little fling. Then my laptop went missing for a day or two. She stole files from my computer. The show has a complete background check on Gunner. We have to do that to know what might come up. She’s threatening to sell the info to the highest bidder.”
“Turn her into the police.” I look at him horror. “It’s pretty simple.”
“It’ll be hard to prove she’s blackmailing me. She’s threatened to expose everything about Gunner’s family—his father being in prison. The stepsister. The tabloids will make it more sordid than you can imagine. Addison says they can print stories about Gunner and Veronica. They can twist it more ways than you can imagine. Headlines about him sleeping with his underage stepsister when they lived together.”
“That’s all a lie.” I twist my hands together in my lap. Bad press about Gunner. He would hate me. I would hate myself. I’ve lived through rumors and venomous lies. But Gunner doesn’t deserve to be flayed in the public eye.
Neither does Veronica.
“What does Addison want?”
“More money than she can get from the tabloids. I have to be the highest bidder.” Tony grabs my hand. “I’m giving her everything she’s asked for.”
“Why?”
“Your dad’s been good to me. Between the bad press pointed at you and some shitstorm media that could surround Gunner, it would be too much for the show. It could affect the reputation of Rolling Hills Productions.” He releases my hand as I numbly pull it from his. He glances out the window and then back at me. “Ed has a heart condition. He found out this year and didn’t tell you. He didn’t want you to know.”
I stare at him. “Why? Why wouldn’t he tell me?”
Tony gives me a sad smile. “Of course he didn’t want you to know. Ed’s a legend for being a hardass. He can’t have his daughter feeling sorry for him.”
“He should have told me.”
“I told Ed about Addison. I offered to resign and take the heat for what she’s done, but he said no. He said we’ll deal with it.”
I nod and squeeze my eyes closed. “OK. What do I need to do?”
“You need to stay away from Gunner. Addison’s crazy. She talks non-stop about how we’re staging a reality show because you and Gunner have something going on. I didn’t know a jealous woman could be so dangerous. It’s not about the money. I think it’s all revenge.”
I swallow and fight the tears. “Let’s go home. I’ll text Gunner that you picked me up.”
“Stay away from him except for the on-screen shots. I’ll come up with something to pacify the social media frenzy that hasn’t died since you two got caught at the campsite. And for what it’s worth, I’m really sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. Help me fix this.” I cover my face with my hands.
Gunner will never understand why I left. If I tell him the truth, he’ll say the press doesn’t matter.
But other people are involved. My dad. Rolling Hills Productions and their employees.
Most of all, Gunner would regret ever being part of the show and meeting me.
My reputation doesn’t matter, but Gunner doesn’t deserve to have his relationship with his sister, his landscaping business, and his entire life ruined.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Longing
Current Day
Gunner
She’s gone.
The rumpled sheets and her scent—I swear I smell her hair on my pillow—tell me it wasn’t a dream.
“Kiley?” I hop from the bed and walk naked to the bathroom. Push open the door.
Empty.
The plain white shower curtain is pushed to the side. A towel lays discarded on the floor. The towel I’d used to dry her body and then her hair.
Perspiration bursts onto my forehead and I gulp in a breath.
I search the room for her clothes. A familiar feeling, panic and dread mixed together, hits me like a Molotov cocktail. My sanity thins as I imagine the possibilities of her disappearance from our room.
I convince myself that she’s stepped outside. Maybe she went to my Jeep, not realizing that it will be locked.
Heading to the door, I’m stopped midway by the buzz of my cell phone. I lunge for the nightstand, pressing the button without even confirming it’s her.
But in the way of déjà vu, I know. It’s her. People have left me before.
“Gunner?” she says. Her soft voice strokes along my skin.
“Whe
re are you?” I ask, my tone abrupt.
“I…um…”
Silence.
She coughs. “I had to go. Tony gave me a ride. Listen. I think it’s best if we keep our distance right now. For the show. We don’t need all this bad press and I made a mistake by—”
“You made a mistake?” I stalk to the window and pull open the curtain. Blinding sunlight pours into the room, unable to defeat the darkness and anger spilling into my soul.
She called Tony? Did our time together mean so little to her?
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I’m so sorry. I can’t be with you right now.”
Dejection and anger consume me, prodding the need to protect myself. My gut roils and a burning sensation rises in my throat. I cover my eyes with one hand to shield the sunlight from the window. Inhale deeply to steady myself.
“Don’t be sorry,” I say. “It’s what I wanted. A good time. Thanks, sweetheart. I’m sorry we didn’t have time together this morning. Tell me. How does Tony feel about picking you up from another man’s bed?”
She doesn’t answer. A whimper comes over the line and for a second, I’m positive she’s crying.
I look at the rumpled sheets on the bed. The indention in her pillow. I squeeze my eyes closed.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Why did she run to him?
“I’ll have my assistant contact you.” There’s a long pause and an intake of breath. “He’ll tell you what to do about the last shows,” she says, her voice catching. “Bye, Gunner.”
The call ends.
I should’ve known better.
She came into my life telling me what she expected—the real deal, a relationship.
But I lied to myself and said I didn’t want that.
Turns out, she granted my wish. A good time. Now, it’s too late to tell her I was wrong. I really wanted more.
* * *
The gym is about the only place I can get some relief from my tension after Kiley’s disappearing act. I’ve wavered between wanting to beg her to talk to me and never speaking to her again.