Watching Her

by Harlem Dae

  But I’d prevented anything from destroying her happy bubble. And I would always be proud of myself for that.

  Sutton put his arm around my waist and began walking again.

  I leant on him slightly, enjoying his strength.

  “Who’s to say she’ll be your only child,” he said as we walked past the shop I’d bought the Russian dolls in.

  I laughed, and it was a lovely relief to let some of the tension out. “We haven’t even fucked yet, Sutton, so it’s a bit early to talk about kids.”

  “Fuck?” He squeezed me closer and placed his mouth to my ear. “Nah, I’m going to make love to you.”

  “Are you turning this into bloody Romeo and Juliet?”

  It was his turn to laugh. “I suppose it’s been a while coming.”

  “Which is why we should fuck.” The hotel came into view. “Get the hard, fast stuff out of the way before we do all that making love crap.”

  “What have I let myself in for?” he said with a chuckle. “I fear I may be about to be mauled by mummy bear.”

  “I’m sure you won’t complain about a few scratch marks.” Damn, just talking about fucking was making my knickers damp. It couldn’t happen soon enough.

  He was still chuckling when we stepped into the hotel.

  Within minutes he had the key to a suite on the top floor.

  We stood at the lift, arms around each other, desire almost palpable. But after waiting for over thirty seconds impatience got the better of us and we headed to the staircase. It was wide with a brass handrail.

  Sutton held the railing and my hand and tugged me up the stairs.

  His jacket sat neat just below his waist, giving me a nice view of his denim-clad arse. The sooner he was naked the better.

  At the door to the Mountain View suite, I ran my hand over his shoulder. “I thought you wanted a drink.”

  “I’ve changed my mind.” He glanced at me then opened the door. “There’s something else I want more.”

  He guided me into the room, twirling me then backing me up against the wall.

  I laughed, giddy with anticipation and heady with desperation.

  He back-kicked the door, and it slammed so hard the picture opposite shifted on its hook.

  Then all I could see was Sutton, looming before me and shrugging out of his jacket. His beard and jerky actions made him appear wild, and I hoped he’d keep that primitive energy for the entire first act.

  I ditched my coat then stooped and dragged at my boots.

  He was doing the same with his own clothing. It seemed sexier somehow than fumbling to take each other’s things off. Quickly stripping, in a time-is-of-the-essence manner, had me snapping off my bra and shoving at my knickers.

  He was gloriously naked at the exact moment I was.

  But I barely got the chance to admire his lean, strong torso and coating of dark body hair, because he was over me, pinning me up against the wall again.

  “You said you wanted it hard and fast,” he said onto my lips, his beard tickling my chin.

  “Yes. Give me what you’ve got.” Oh, how I’d dreamt of this moment. I’d connived and plotted, and now it was finally happening.

  And hopefully the first of many fucks.

  He scooped up my right leg, hooking it over his arm.

  I felt him there, searching for my entrance, just for a second, then he pushed in. A steady drive to full depth as he kissed me.

  I clung to him, this man of mine. The first one in a long time that wasn’t a notch, a conquest, and I prayed my body felt the way he’d hoped. I wanted him to come long and magnificently. If ever there was a man who deserved a spectacular shag it was Sutton.

  He pounded in and out, going for feral like we’d planned. He palmed my breasts and panted into my ear, and I rejoiced in the building of pressure down below.

  Soon I’d climax.

  So would he.

  I could hardly even remember the man in the large sunglasses stirring the blue cocktail. That wasn’t Sutton. This was Sutton. My Sutton. He’d found himself, in me, so it seemed.

  “Fuck, I’m there,” he gasped, picking up the pace. As if it hadn’t been fast enough already.

  I clung to him and let my orgasm claim me.

  He released, too, with a roar that matched our frenetic mating. Our chests were slick with sweat, and we gasped for breath. Bliss spiralled through me, creating aftershocks that clamped around him.

  Eventually he pulled back, his eyes clear and a rise of colour on his cheeks. “How was that for starters?”

  “Perfect, but I’m looking forward to the main course and dessert.”

  “Oh, don’t worry, you’re getting the full three courses.” He laughed then kissed me in a way that let me know he’d barely taken the edge off his appetite.

  We fucked—sorry, made love—twice more. Once in the shower—he insisted on going in from behind, and I didn’t hesitate for a second—then on the bed after a long lazy session of oral sex.

  I found a bottle of champagne in the fridge and popped the cork.

  “You know how expensive that is?” Sutton asked. “They hike up the prices in the minibar.”

  “No, and I don’t care.” I shrugged and my naked breasts shifted.

  He looked at them, and I suspected he was enjoying the fact he didn’t have to try not to anymore.

  I smiled and poured the bubbling liquid into two flutes. “Here.” I handed one to him.

  “What are we toasting?” He propped onto his elbow and shifted a pillow behind himself. He was semi-erect, his uncircumcised cock resting on his thigh.

  I licked my lips, wanting him rather than the champers, but I’d poured it now. “To us,” I said, “finding each other.”

  “It was quite a journey, starting in Amsterdam.”

  “Amsterdam?”

  “Well, that’s where you started your trip, Claudine.”

  “But…” From my memory, I dragged up my Blooms schedule. “But I didn’t spot you until Rome. I’d done Amsterdam, Bruges and Athens before then.”

  “Maybe I’m not such a shifty spy after all, eh?” He took a sip of his drink. The elegant flute looked ridiculously small in his big hand.

  “Mmm, maybe not.” Damn it, how had I not spotted him?

  “And in Rome,” he said, “I felt it was time for you to know you had a tail. Things were heating up with Fabian and your father. My sixth sense told me I’d be stepping in soon.”

  “I’m glad you did.” I swept my lips over his. “You will come to Juniper Hall with me tonight, won’t you?”

  “Am I invited?” He raised his eyebrows, and his lips twitched.

  “You know you are. I don’t want to go if you’re not coming with me.”

  “I reckon I’m due a break.”

  “Good, that’s settled, then.”

  “But—”

  “No, don’t say you can’t because of Father Dearest and his dumb rules. I’m a grown woman, and you’re the man I want with me. So it’s tough shit.”

  “I wasn’t going to say anything about your father.”

  “Oh, what then?”

  “Sit.” He tapped the bed.

  “We only have another hour, you know. Then we need to get going to the airport.”

  “An hour is plenty of time.”

  I nodded at his cock. “You sure? I think we’ve worn him out.”

  “Nah, he’ll wake up for you.” He set down his, and then my drink. His expression turned serious.

  “What?” I asked, suddenly feeling nervous.

  “There’s something you should know.”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake, you’re not married, are you? A wife and kids tucked up in bloody Birmingham or something?”

  “No!” He looked shocked for a second then sighed. “Of course not. But we do need to set up a rule about no more secrets. Though I won’t always be able to tell you the details of my work.”

  “I wouldn’t expect you to.”

  “But there i
s one thing that I found out, from me working with your father, that you should know.”

  I frowned. His eyes had darkened. Something swirling around in his mind was making him anxious. Something that he wanted to share with me.

  “You’re worrying me, that look on your face.”

  He cupped my cheek. “Kolya.”

  I turned away. It still hurt to think of him dead. It would always hurt. And I’d grieve my own way, quietly, back at Juniper Hall. Maybe plant him a tree? A magnolia perhaps, with big snow-white flowers.

  “Look at me,” he said.

  I did as he’d asked.

  “I don’t want to know what happened between you and the Albino, that’s not my business.”

  So why bring him up?

  “But I need to give you the facts, Claudine.”

  “What facts?”

  “He worked for Ivor Belikov, didn’t he?”

  “Yes. I met him. Nasty bit of work.”

  “I wouldn’t disagree with you there and I’d much rather you hadn’t come face to face with him.” He paused. “Amongst other things he runs a very specific protection business—personal protection.”

  “I gathered that.”

  “His fees are extortionate, but clients pay because he’s good for his word. His men are highly trained and not afraid of getting a job done even if it means breaking the law.”

  “So why did you warn me off Kolya to begin with?”

  “I didn’t know then, who he worked for, how specialised he was. I could just tell that he was damn good at his job and that scared me.”

  I was piecing together what Sutton was saying, the words and sentences aligning in my head. But I couldn’t understand why we were having this conversation now, naked in bed with champagne fizzing beside us.

  “Do you remember I told you I’d got some new intel on him?” Sutton asked.

  “Yes.” I nodded. “You said I was safe with him.”

  “Absolutely.” He pressed his lips together.

  “So…what was the intel?”

  “It was the name of the person who’d hired him.”

  “I thought it was people. Ivor said ‘they’.”

  “No, it was just one person who’d gone to Ivor Belikov and paid big bucks for his services.”

  “And this person? His name?”

  “Not a he.”

  “A she?” I raised my eyebrows. “What? I don’t understand.”

  “Her name is Heather Claudine Dimitri, third wife of notorious Russian business man, Grigory Dimitri, although I believe her former surname was Montague-Fostrop.”

  “My mother!”

  “Yes.” He nodded and touched his nose to mine. “Your mother.”

  About the Authors

  Harlem Dae is the pen name of two authors - Lily Harlem and Natalie Dae. They have been writing together for several years on top of their individual author projects and enjoy being represented by traditional houses including HarperCollins and Totally Bound as well as self-publishing their sexy stories on Amazon.

  Sexy as Hell (5* BDSM trilogy) Anything for Him (published by HarperCollins) and Good Cop, Bad Cop have all claimed the #1 spot on the Amazon Erotica/Romance charts and with A Bit of Strange also doing well, and That Filthy Book now available in bookshops nationwide (hailed by reviewers as a book every woman should read), so the future is bright for this writing duo.

  Both live in the UK and gain great satisfaction from bouncing characters and their raunchy antics back and forth, growing, nurturing and stoking plot lines until they steam off the page and push boundaries. They consider themselves to be solitary, whacky, spontaneous and desirous for many things including perfection and are frequently caught sending messages back and forth referring to each other as Rodney and Delboy.

  Find out more

  Harlem Dae

  Natalie Dae

  Lily Harlem

  Studioenp

  Good Cop, Bad Cop

  Back Cover Information

  Fame and fortune is a blessing that, for me, has changed its taste from sumptuously sweet to murderously bitter. Leaving me no choice but to look over my shoulder at every turn and question the scruples of even my most faithful friends.

  I would give up all the glowing adoration from my fans in a heartbeat in exchange for not running for my life. But fate doesn’t deal cards that way, and instead I find myself far out at sea and being bounced between two hot cops—one so chilly just his glance gives me frostbite, and the other showing a kindness that barely covers his own demons.

  So with nowhere else to turn, quite literally, I have to trust two men I hardly know with my life and cope without the luxuries my status usually affords me. But it’s not long before I discover when the going gets tough, the tough get going. Turns out these cops are not only the wrong guys to mess with, they also have partnership skills above and beyond the requirements of their day job. And for once, while just being me without the frills, I get to discover that they are as sinfully bad as they are dreamily good in every department, and it seems, I am the one they want cuffed and controlled at the same time as they are protecting and serving.

  FREE - Chapter One

  Okay, so I have it all. The voice of an angel, three platinum-selling albums, looks other women can only strive to achieve and a shit-crazy, fully fledged, murderous stalker.

  I’m lucky, right?

  Smoothing my hands down my red silk dress that I’d all but been vacuum packed into, I glanced around the dinner table. I knew everyone. Some better than others, which helped, in a way.

  Sitting opposite was my childhood best friend, Tommy Bell, chatting to the new guy from Astor. Tommy was also my manager, had been for years, and I trusted him with my life, quite literally. He looked handsome tonight in a crisp black suit and with his dark hair brushed back. He exuded the air of authority and confidence he’d had since being a scruffy ten year old persuading me to climb a tree in his backyard.

  I’d caught his attention, and he paused briefly and grinned. I smiled and my heart swelled with gratitude. I never needed to worry about striking the best deals with a record label when he was around or what route to take a marketing campaign down once he was on the case. Tommy always had my best interests at heart, was knife-sharp at negotiating and as honest as they came. God had smiled on me the day the Bells had moved onto our block and their youngest son had decided he’d wanted me as his best buddy.

  I took a sip of champagne and looked at Dimitri, my bodyguard. His drink was untouched, even though it was only cola, and his arms were folded over his broad, apish chest. Dimitri was new. Tommy had hired him last week. I tried to quash the lurch in my stomach when I thought of the reason why his presence was necessary. Tried but failed. The hollow, sick feeling was growing each day, clawing at my nerves, shredding my sanity. Living with fear was like existing in a different dimension to everyone else. It was dark and cold and rippled up my spine and over my scalp when I least expected it. It caused me to catch my breath and my head to spin, lose my focus and feel alone in a room full of people.

  There had been another note this morning, shoved under my hotel room door. It had read one word. SOON. Like the others it was written in newspaper-letters. Nausea had gripped me as I’d picked it up. My heart had beat so hard the sound of my pulse in my ears was deafening in the quiet room.

  I’d dropped the piece of paper, watched it flutter to the floor, then stumbled to the phone. Called Tommy who came rushing, Dimitri at his side. I’d burst out crying as soon as they’d arrived. I’d tried so hard not to sob that when it did erupt it racked my lungs and bent me double.

  I knew what the note threatened and what would happen soon—my death.

  Tommy had held me, stroked my hair, whispered that it would be all right and asked Dimitri, who’d stood silently holding the note, to call Meredith, my lead backing singer, to come from her room across the corridor.

  I glanced at Meredith now. She was staring at me, her intense blue eyes sparkling
in the candlelight and her mouth set in a straight line.

  “What are you thinking about, India?” she asked, fingering the small cross that sat in the hollow of her throat. “You look on edge.”

  “I’m okay.”

  “You’re not still upset about this morning, are you?”

  “Yes, a little.” Who was I kidding? The weight of the worry was like an anvil on my head, pressing me down.

  “It’s just someone trying to scare you. Don’t let them win, relax. It will all be fine.”

  “But last week’s note came in the mail, and I couldn’t understand how they had the address of the cabin. And now this one, to my hotel room. It’s creepy beyond belief. Who even knows that I’m in Fort Lauderdale for the weekend?”

  She shrugged. “You’re a superstar, people see you out and about and Tweet it, Facebook it, whatever. Your movements are watched by millions.”

  “But it still doesn’t make sense.” I shook my head and frowned. My cabin was in the back and beyond of Montana; it was isolated and private. I’d never given any information to the press that I even owned it.

  Meredith sipped her champagne and shrugged again. “It makes perfect sense and it’s all part and parcel of being famous. You have to learn to take the ups with the downs, the rough with the smooth.” She shook her napkin and laid it on her lap, gave a small smile. “Enjoy the meal, honey. You’re safe here with us, we’re your best friends. Besides, you have that big hunk of meat to look after you now.” She gestured towards Dimitri.

  He said nothing in response to being called a hunk of meat. His silence wasn’t unusual. I barely knew what his voice sounded like even though he’d been hanging around me for a week now. If I was honest he gave me the creeps. His jaw stuck out too far, giving him a craggy, Neanderthal look. His eyebrows were dense and bushy and his black eyes piercing. And the sheer size of the man. He was all bulging muscles and brawn, his neck wider than his head, and hands the size of tortoise shells. I’d seen his feet, too—I’d guess they were at least three times bigger than mine.