by Love, Lust
“I understand the necessity of the media I even understand how they justify themselves, but more importantly, I understand the game they play, and quite frankly, I’m better at it.”
He watched her swallow, watched the delicate working of her throat. Her eyes dilated and her breath seemed to have stopped. He’d never wanted to kiss anyone so desperately in all his life. However, he sensed she needed him professionally right now, and it was a good bet her need was far greater than his need for her physically.
“Mr. Kiersen?”
He smiled at the dreamy sound in her voice.
“Yes, Mrs. Williams?”
“Would you have dinner with me tonight, at my home?”
He took a step back mentally but didn’t move his body. He enjoyed being this close, even if it were torturing him. He had no idea where the invite had come from. This woman shifted gears fast and he found himself racing to keep up, but whether she meant the invitation personally as he hoped, or professionally as he figured, there was one question he wanted answered.
“Is Mr. Tucker the bodyguard alone? Or does he verge on boyfriend material?”
For once, her gaze didn’t falter, and she had the cutest little half-smile on her lips that made him crazy.
“Bodyguard.”
He smiled back.
“Then I’d be delighted.”
“And will you represent me?”
He swore she’d just edged closer in her seat. He felt her sweet breath against his lips and it nearly killed him.
“I think I will.”
She bit her lower lip, her gaze locked to his. He held the arms of her chair in a hard lock to keep his twitching fingers from reaching for her. He wanted so much to touch her, so much to take her in his arms and show her where she was meant to be.
“Then, I only have one question left, Mr. Kiersen.”
He watched her and actually saw her make the decision. On a personal level, he loved the way she was so easy to read. Professionally, he saw it as a PR nightmare waiting to happen.
“What question, Mrs. Williams?”
She bit her lower lip for a fraction of a second. Her lashes batted, but it in no way looked like a practiced seductive move. In all honesty, it looked like nerves.
“Will…” she licked her lips. “Will you please kiss me now?”
Chapter 3
“Oh God, oh God, oh God.” Ashley pushed her chair back and fled to the far most corner of the office feeling like a caged jungle cat. “What you must think of me.”
She pressed her back against the wall and a hand into her chest.
“What I think of me!”
She was pathetic, had accepted that long ago, but did she have to let Mr. Gorgeous Tight-ass Kiersen know it on their first meeting? She peered at him through the fingers of her hands that were now covering her very embarrassed face. He looked…stunned.
“I’m so sorry. I’d say I don’t know what came over me, but I’m always like this.”
He raised one brow at her and she felt her stomach drop all the way to the floor.
“I know. Now you can see why I’ve stuck with Morey all these years. I’m really a PR nightmare. Run, Mr. Kiersen. Run while you still can.”
She cringed when he actually had the nerve to laugh at her.
Okay, so it wasn’t really a laugh as much as an amused snicker, but still, Ashley felt ridiculous. She’d been like this as long as she could remember. No impulse control, that’s what Myra always said. It was hers and Gabe’s excuse for always running every little aspect of her life, and she had to admit they were probably right.
From the second she heard that man’s voice on the phone, she’d been imagining the most wicked things. Things involving handcuffs and whipped cream. She was utterly appalled with herself. Yet, the second she walked through the door and saw him, all fine sinew and muscle as he paced in the sunlight, she’d felt her heart stop. From the second he’d whacked his head on that plant, all she’d wanted to do was hold him.
Close.
She knew how dangerous it was to throw herself at a man, but she didn’t care. She wanted Darius Kiersen to hold her, kiss her, and yes, even make love to her. She wasn’t picky about where, either.
Hadn’t Lance taught her anything three years ago?
Oh, yeah, loud and clear. He’d taught her not to trust, not to let her guard down, and most importantly, that no man would ever be interested in the real Ashley. They only wanted the illusion. He’d taught her so well that there hadn’t been a man since then. She’d kept her head down, eyes forward, no men, no love, no…life.
The sigh left before she could catch it and the next thing she knew, gentle fingers tipped her chin until she was forced to meet his deep blue gaze.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice broke and a new fear pummeled her.
Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.
“What on earth do you have to be sorry for, sweetheart? For voicing what we were both feeling? Don’t ever apologize for your feelings and don’t ever apologize for being honest.”
He bent closer, and Ashley felt her heart speed again. She gave him a half-hearted shrug. It was impossible to release his stare, and she found herself melting into it.
“My mother and husband had different philosophies.”
His sharp bark of laughter surprised her as much as it warmed her. She felt as if she’d waited her whole life to hear it. If it were a tangible thing, she’d curl up inside it and never leave.
“You’ve actually managed to render me speechless.” His thumb brushed her cheek and Ashley shivered into a heightened state of anticipation. “I didn’t know the people in question and seeing as they’re both deceased, it doesn’t seem right to go with my gut reaction,” he gave her a lopsided half smile, that was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen, “that they were fucking morons. Pardon my language.”
Ashley laughed. It started deep down inside her somewhere until it bubbled to the surface, breaking free, taking with it a boatload of guilt and tension. She was left feeling giddy, and free in a way she couldn’t remember feeling before.
“No one ever curses around me.” She felt the frown before it twisted her lips. “On the set, I’ve heard them call me St. Ashley.”
Did he just move closer?
She swore the room temperature had just jumped forty degrees. Something about this man inspired her to be herself and that was a powerful thing. She felt the same comfort level she only ever did with Johnny. Bodyguard he might be, but she thought of him more as a best friend.
Still, she had just met this man and it would do her good to remember that since she was a horrible judge of character and always trusted the wrong people.
“Did I offend you then? I admit I’m confused.”
He smiled that half-smile again, but this time it seemed more intense somehow.
“No offense taken.”
She twisted away from his hold and moved to where the flowers had fallen to the ground. His assistant had done a good job in the short amount of time, but there were still evident crumbles of dark rich soil on the green carpet. She slipped off her shoes—she hated the torture devices anyway—and dropped to her knees.
“Do you have a bag, or maybe an empty staple box or something? This is good soil, so you don’t want to lose it.”
She made herself busy scraping soil out of the deep pile, forcing her mind away from the delectable Mr. Kiersen and his even more delectable lips. She hadn’t been with many men in her life, but her never-before–listened-to gut screamed at her this one would know what he was doing. She imagined a girl in his bed wouldn’t ever regret it, or feel awkward about it. She bet he took care of his women.
Just as he came down on his knees beside her, so close the material of his pants brushed her bare thigh through the slit in her dress, an emotion she’d felt only once before in her life swarmed down on her. It was the worst sensation of jealousy and possessiveness.
Only, this was different.
When she’d felt it with Lance, it had been an angry feeling at being made a fool of. Right now, it felt mostly desperate, needy, and a little sad because she knew she’d never be the woman in his bed.
“You don’t have to do this. I’m borderline obsessive compulsive. Believe me, the second you leave, I’ll be getting every spec of the stuff back into its pot where it belongs.”
His voice was so tender. Almost as if he understood everything she felt right then and wanted to take care of her.
“Will your plant survive?”
He chuckled.
“Yeah. I think she’ll live, though she won’t be too happy for a few days.”
Ashley twisted and sat flat on her ass, legs crossed, not caring if the man wanted to look up her dress. He’d find a white lace thong—plain, but sexy enough. She smiled, wondering if she had it in her to really be Ashley Williams.
At least for a while, long enough to entice Mr. Kiersen into her bed.
No one would ever understand how lonely she was. No one would ever believe she was shy, awkward, and knew next to nothing about sex. But if she could just channel her façade long enough to hook him past the point of no return, then maybe, well… Okay, I have no idea. Still, it was all she could think of just then. If she knew only one thing, it was how to be Ashley Williams.
* * * *
Darius saw something flicker in her eyes, as if a mask came over her entire being. Suddenly, he could no longer see the most innocently enticing woman he’d ever met. Now, the seductress had taken her place. In a way, she seemed like the woman he’d expected her to be. It was subtle, but it was there. Something had changed in the last two seconds and he didn’t think he liked it.
Her eyes, which before had held shame and confusion, now only seemed to hold an invitation. One he wasn’t sure he dared accept. It wasn’t as if he had a ‘no sleeping with clients’ policy. He was a realist and the women he worked around were often incredibly sensual and honestly, where women were concerned, he had a very low resistance factor. Still, something about Ashley told him not to give her what she was asking for.
Her eyes flared with invitation and he found himself leaning closer despite the warning bells.
“Are you sure about this?”
Her slow, seductive smile sent a streak of white-hot fire through his system straight to his cock, which had been hard, ready, and willing from the second he’d read her message.
She rose up on her knees, not entirely graceful, and he caught a flash of white lace between her thighs. It was all he could do to control the groan. Slowly, she moved closer, placing her hands against his cheeks. Her breath tickled his skin and called to him in a soul deep, primal way that was too much to ignore.
Before either of them could come to their senses, he decided to take control of the moment, grabbed her around the waist and hauled her body against his to form a solid seam of curves meeting muscle without a hint of air between them. He placed her against his straining cock. When she wriggled, he nearly came.
“Very impressive, Mr. Kiersen. Do you know how to properly wield that weapon?”
In the back of his mind, something screamed this wasn’t right. She was different, not the same woman who’d walked in here, but when all the blood in his brain had gone AWOL it was very difficult to keep a straight thought.
“I think I could make you very happy, Mrs. Williams.”
“Ashley.”
“Darius, then.”
She smiled and for a second he saw a flash of sweetness in her eyes, but then it was gone. Only the master seductress remained.
“Dinner?”
“Definitely.”
“You’ll represent me?”
“Couldn’t stop me.”
One side of her lips twitched upward.
“The only question left on the table then is…are you going to kiss me?”
Darius felt his cock jump, his heart race, and his stomach spin. He had his hands on her back, tracing the line of her spine exposed to him through the backless dress she wore.
“Honey, I want to do a lot more to you than just kiss you. I’m not sure this is the right place for it, however, what with my assistant and your mountain on the other side of what are surprisingly thin walls considering the rent I pay for this space.”
“All I’m offering right now, Mr. Kiersen, is a kiss.”
He scratched his ear, swallowed against the lump of solid lust wedged in his throat, and maneuvered her body against his cock again.
“But later tonight, after dinner and business, then you can have anything you want. As for me,” she squeezed her hand between their bodies and pressed it against his raging hard-on, “I want this. And something tells me, I won’t be disappointed.”
Darius tried to stop himself, but he couldn’t. He pushed against her hand, imagining those long fingers wrapped firmly around him, those lush lips sliding the length of him.
“God in heaven, I don’t stand a chance.”
He cupped the back of her head with one large hand, tilting her backward until her lips were presented up to him like an offering from the gods. And never had there been a sweeter offering.
He covered her mouth with his, swallowing the soft gasp that escaped her lips as if she’d been surprised he’d taken her up on her blatant offer. She was warm, wet, and sweeter than the sugarcane he’d so adored as a boy. Without hesitation his tongue swept in, meeting hers in an age-old dance, but no kiss he’d ever had in his life had been like this one.
It seemed the second his mouth touched hers, the experienced seductress melted and the sweet, possibly even shy woman he’d met earlier was back. He kissed her thoroughly while she whimpered and moaned, and arched her body against his. He swirled her tongue, sucked on it, trapped it against his for a time.
He wanted to possess this woman in a way he never knew possible before this moment. He needed her. It was as simple and as terrifying as that.
His one hand, still wrapped around her waist, moved and squeezed her ass, pulling her harder onto his cock. God, he couldn’t wait to get inside her. Even now, he was dangerously close to coming in his pants.
She pressed the breasts she wanted reduced against him and he was struck with the oddest thought. He wanted them reduced, as well. He wasn’t interested in fake any more. He wanted those foreign objects out of the woman he…you what, idiot?
He convinced himself he was only concerned for her health. In a town where most of the women were at least part plastic, he’d heard enough horror stories to be concerned for her.
He threw himself back into the kiss. Her fingers scraped his scalp, slid through the hair he wanted cut off earlier today. Now, he thought of growing it long like his brother’s, so she could really get her fingers in it. He sucked her tongue into his mouth again and didn’t bother to stop the groan of pure raw lust as it tore through his vocal chords.
“We have to stop.”
Shocked at how breathless, raw, and needy he sounded, he separated himself from her and stood up. He ran his fingers over his lips, couldn’t look at her yet, not until he was sure the sight alone wouldn’t finish what she’d started with her touch, her kiss, her scent. Never in his life had a simple kiss ever been so hot, so demanding, so utterly not enough and yet everything all at the same time. How on earth would he ever walk away from this woman if he went through with what she proposed?
He kept his back to her but sensed her movements as she stood and retrieved her purse. She touched him gently enough, but his body was strung too tight to handle even the softest touch right now. He growled at her.
As much as he wasn’t the type of man who lost control, in her arms, a few minutes ago, he’d done just that.
She pressed herself to his back, nibbled on his ear, and seductively murmured, “Dinner’s at eight,” before gliding out the door.
He still hadn’t recovered enough to look at her by the time she closed the door softly behind her.
* * * *
Darius rang the bell
, then paced restlessly outside the Malibu townhouse. He’d debated bringing her flowers. This wasn’t exactly a date, but then he hoped she thought of it as more than a booty call. He tugged at his tie, listening to the sound of the ocean waves coming from behind the large three-story structure as they rolled onto the shore.
He was thankful when she called him earlier and suggested this place as opposed to the mausoleum she’d shared with Gabriel. He of course had never been there, but he had seen the place on Barbara Walters, in Architectural Digest and he even thought on an episode of Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous.
Darius was no stranger to wealth, but if this evening would be intimate—and both he and his throbbing cock sorely needed it to be intimate—it hardly seemed appropriate to be at the happy couple’s place. As it was, he felt awkward enough. Ashley and Gabriel Williams were Hollywood’s golden couple, probably the only happy couple in America, and all he would ever be in her life was a warm body.
He tugged on his tie again, wondering if she’d been with anyone since her husband died. Regardless, he would be gentle and go slow.
He sent up another silent prayer that he’d be able to.
As the tall wood and glass door was pulled open, soft light spilled onto the slate pavers and over his black dress shoes. He wasn’t sure what to expect, or whom. A servant? The mountain?
He felt relieved as the sight that greeted him was a welcome one indeed.
Wearing gold silk pants and one of those tops that looked more lingerie than top, in a pale rose color that matched her skin tone, she was beauty personified. She wore no shoes, and her toenails painted the same pink as her top. Her hair hung loose in soft waves halfway down her back. Her thick bangs framed those aqua eyes and he caught the scent of spices and orchids, jasmine maybe.
Delectable.
He swallowed back the “You look good enough to eat” statement, but lord how he intended to later.
“You’re exquisite.”