Hard to Hold (The Hold series Book 2)

by Arell Rivers

  Cole takes up the entire doorway to my office. “Why would Rose scare me away?”

  Kim goes white as a sheet, but her recovery is almost admirable. She plasters a smile on her lips and pivots on her stilettoed heel. “Just a figure of speech, Cole. Here, I have the photos you requested.”

  She holds up the envelope while walking over to him, then places her free hand on his bicep and tries to usher him toward the conference room.

  He looks down at her with an equally fake smile on his face. “I’ll be right in. I’d love a cup of coffee.” Throwing me a dirty look, Kim leaves us.

  “I thought our conversation ended too easily.”

  Taking one step into my office, Cole gives me a predatory look while inspecting me from head to toe. His green irises deepen, and my skin warms in response. Even after everything that happened today, he still can turn me on without saying a word.

  In a low voice he says, “I had to see you for myself. I like that shade of pink on you, Rose. I’d prefer that was all you were wearing.”

  I stop myself from running into his arms. I almost laugh, thinking how Kim and Melanie would react. But, it wouldn’t be a laughing matter to Greta, who walks up behind him and stares at his butt. Geez, it’s a fine view, but really? She taps him on the shoulder.

  “I thought I heard your voice, Cole. What a nice surprise.”

  He turns and repeats his excuse about being in the neighborhood. “Rose has a statement to write for you, so why don’t we leave her to it. Let me escort you to the conference room.” They leave my office together.

  I collapse into my chair. It’s so much harder acting like we’re just client-employee when we’re face-to-face. Tomorrow’s going to be a delight. Deliberately ignoring the oversized male rocker in the conference room down the hall, I start working on a preliminary rebuttal statement for The Gossip. Guess Kim’s time was reprioritized.

  Sometime later, engrossed in my work, I startle when someone knocks on my office door. “Bella Rosa.”

  I forgot Marco was coming in to meet Greta today. Of all days.

  “Oh, hi. Meeting go well with Greta?”

  A small smile tugs at his lips as he walks into my office, steps behind my chair and lowers his hands to my shoulders. “It was productive.” His hands squeeze my shoulders rhythmically.

  I don’t have time for his games. Cole could finish up any second, and my overtaxed nerves are already stretched to their breaking point. I swivel my chair, causing him to jump back. Standing, I scoot around the desk so that I’m facing him with the desk between us.

  “That’s good. When are you heading back to Jersey?”

  Marco throws his head back and laughs. “Trying to get rid of me so soon? Let’s go out for drinks and I can fill you in on all my news.”

  From behind me, my Tarzan proclaims, “She’s busy tonight. And every night.”

  Wonderful. Exhaling all my pent up breath, I turn toward the doorway. My vision is filled with Cole standing there, legs splayed, manila envelope in his hand. Kim can’t be far behind. Both of these testosterone-filled boys need to leave. Now.

  “Marco was just saying good-bye. He had a meeting with Greta.”

  Cole’s eyes hurtle ice shards as they bore into my former boyfriend. For his part, Marco’s hands curl around the back of my desk chair. My future is colliding with my past in an uncomfortable present.

  “People usually leave the room after saying good-bye,” Cole snarls.

  Marco glances at me, then smiles broadly. “I need a real good-bye.”

  Before I can react, he strides up to me, wraps me in his arms and kisses me on the lips. What the heck? I turn my head and push against Marco’s chest.

  Cole is next to us in an instant. A coiled serpent ready to strike. This can’t be happening. Not here. Not after Strike Two.

  “Marco, enough.” I shove again, successfully freeing myself from him.

  Without missing a beat, Cole immediately pulls me to his muscular chest. I allow myself a blissful moment in his arms before my breathing hitches in panic. The door to my office is open and anyone can see in. The fuss is bound to have attracted attention.

  “Everything okay?”

  Wide-eyed, I turn my head toward the door and see Shari standing there, effectively blocking anyone from witnessing the scene. Sagging in relief in Cole’s rigid arms, I suddenly become aware of the man-sandwich I’m in. After years of avoiding the dating scene, now I literally have two attractive men duking it out for me. A nervous giggle escapes.

  “Rose?” Shari asks.

  Swallowing another giggle, I say, “Yeah. Yes. Marco is leaving now.” I give him a pointed look and burrow into Cole’s embrace.

  Marco smirks. “I’ll see you again soon, Bella Rosa.”

  Cole’s grip tightens, then loosens when Marco turns and walks past Shari and out of my office.

  Shari returns to her position blocking my doorway and I disengage from my Tarzan. In a low voice, I say, “Thanks, Shari. Let me introduce you to my boyfriend Cole Manchester. Cole, this is Shari Yonge. I told her about us during lunch.”

  It’s the first time I’ve introduced him as my “boyfriend.” It feels good. Right.

  After they shake hands, Cole retrieves the envelope from the floor. He stands up and gives me that look that makes me feel like the only woman in the world. Marco has been forgotten.

  “Nice to meet you, Cole. Take care of my girl.”

  “Oh, I promise to, Shari.”

  Shari blows me a kiss behind Cole’s back and walks away.

  Cole holds up the envelope. “I’m taking these to Platinum. Be prepared. After this publicity date with Em tonight, I’m going to inspect every square inch of your delicious body. With my tongue. Then my—”

  “Cole!”

  He winks and then saunters out.

  Tuesday evening

  “MOM, YOU PROMISED me you’d give Cole a chance.” I plop into the cushy chair in Cole’s office.

  “I’m trying, Rosie, but that man is bad news.” I emit a frustrated grumble, and she corrects, “Maybe he’s not bad news, but bad things seem to follow him. You could’ve been hurt by his wife today.”

  “She’s not his wife and you know it. I actually think she believes her lies.”

  “Crazy people do crazy things.” Can’t argue with that logic. Mom continues, “How’s your bodyguard?”

  “I spoke with Roberto a little while ago. He’s home, but had to get thirty stitches. He’ll be back with me next week.”

  I grab a pen from Cole’s leather desk set and write myself a reminder to send something to his house. Maybe Grandma Gertie would be willing to whip up some of her blueberry muffins for him.

  “Do you have someone else watching you now?”

  “Yes. His name is Jared.”

  “That’s good. Where’s Cole, anyway?”

  “He and Emilie just left for a publicity date.” I check my watch. “They’re going out to dinner and then a club.” I turn to my computer and click online to see if the media is covering their date yet.

  “She’s living with him now?”

  “You know that I’m living here. Emilie moved into one of the guest rooms yesterday. She’s a nice girl.” No photos have surfaced yet.

  “You haven’t given up your rental, have you?”

  I almost respond that yes, I did give up my rental car today after Jared picked up Chris’s car from the shop. But Mom doesn’t know about that incident—she’s talking about my rented house. Sighing, I respond, “No, Mom. But it’s not as safe as Cole’s house even with the new alarm system he had installed. Remember, that gang broke into my place before Cole’s stalker was even on the scene.”

  “Speaking of the robbery, have you heard anything more from the police about Chris’s engagement ring?”

  I look at my empty left hand. “No. But some of the other stolen pieces are starting to surface, so there’s hope.”

  She pauses, as usual, when she thinks about Chri
s. She liked him. If only I could get her to feel the same way about Cole. Years of therapy helped me cope with his death, but I didn’t start living again until Cole reentered my life. Without realizing it, I’d let all the things Chris had loved about me—that I’d loved about myself—fall away. A part of my heart always will belong to Chris, but Cole now owns every other piece.

  “How’s work going?”

  “It’s been busy,” I say, deciding to play down the upheaval in my professional life. No need to send her into a tailspin worrying that my monthly check won’t come; I’m freaked out enough for the both of us. “We’re doing a huge prep session tomorrow with Cole, and his Public Service Announcement against smoking will be released on Thursday. It’ll announce that all the proceeds for his new single are going to charity. Friday, he’ll be on every media outlet once his marriage is exposed as fake. He’s going to debut ‘No One to Hold’ on a late night talk show.”

  “Your ideas?”

  “Mainly. Greta approved them.”

  “That’s nice. Oh, I meant to tell you, I was talking with Marco’s mother today and she said he was meeting with Greta today. His firm is looking to expand into celebrity clients.”

  My head spins from her rapid-fire changes of topics, particularly since this subject is so unwelcome. “I saw him briefly in the office today. I was too swamped to do anything more than say hi.” And tell him to get the heck out.

  “Maybe you can meet up with him for drinks?”

  “I can’t. Greta wants me to track coverage of Cole’s outing tonight.”

  “That’s too bad.” She sighs. I wait. “Well, it’s getting late here in Jersey. We’ll talk over the weekend, right?”

  After we say our good-byes, I check various websites for their coverage of Cole and Emilie’s date. A flurry of photos document their evening. At least this is perfectly on track. Score one for me.

  I stop on one photo of the two of them. Cole has his arm around Emilie’s shoulder and she’s looking up at him, laughing. What a wonderful shot. After last night, I’m confident nothing beyond friendship is between them, but, boy, they make a gorgeous couple.

  Shaking my head, I check Cole’s social media pages. Sure enough, more photos of the “happy couple” are being posted by fans. Some of the comments are sweet, while others beg him to dump her and marry them. A few reference Starr, but not many and certainly not in complimentary terms. Yup, everything’s right on course.

  Curious, I go to The Gossip’s page. Ten minutes ago, Anita posted a couple pictures of Lisa and Cole, along with the title: “The Real Housewife of Manchester.” Crap. I open the story, which turns out to be only a one paragraph teaser, but our denial of the marriage isn’t included.

  I start damage control immediately.

  I WAKE UP in Cole’s office chair and check the clock. It’s two. Cole and Emilie aren’t due back for a while. The last time I fell asleep working was months ago, well before Cole and I got together.

  Rolling my head and shrugging my shoulders to get the kinks out, I power down my laptop and go up to his bedroom. Our bedroom. I’m beat and my alarm will go off in four hours. At least I did my best to handle the fallout from The Gossip’s teaser in addition to monitoring the coverage of Cole and Emilie’s publicity date. The rest can wait until morning—rather, later this morning. Maybe Kim will even lift a finger to assist. Snorting at the ridiculousness of that thought, I strip and collapse into the big, empty bed.

  Something tickles my ear. Swatting at my head, I turn on my stomach and snuggle deeper under the covers.

  A deep, masculine chuckle invades my consciousness. “Cole?”

  “In the flesh.”

  Something wet and warm skims the back of my neck. “Did you just lick me?”

  In response, he nips my earlobe and says, “Yup.”

  “Eww. Gross.”

  He takes my hand from where I’m trying to wipe my neck and brings it to his impressive erection. “You need to redirect your thoughts. Let me help you out.”

  Releasing my hand, he sweeps the blanket off me and replaces it with his body, pressing his naked front against my equally naked back. Slowly, he circles his erection against my butt while planting tiny kisses all over my back.

  The electricity from his touch zings through my body. I move my hips upward a few inches—the only movement I can make with his body pressing mine down.

  “I want to touch you.”

  “Don’t worry, Ro. You’ll get your turn. When I’m done.” He pulls away from me and kisses my butt. I giggle at the sensation.

  His kisses turn into nips.

  “Ouch.” I try to squirm, but he holds me down.

  “Tsk, tsk.” Droplets of water hit my back.

  “That’s cold.”

  “Boy, you’re mouthy tonight.”

  “You want mouthy? Let me turn over and I’ll give you mouthy.”

  “I know where I want that mouth.”

  Me, too. My mouth waters at the thought of sucking him. I love it when he loses control, all because of what I’m doing to him. I try to turn over, but Cole holds me by my hips and rubs his stubbly cheek down my left leg. He turns his head to plant a kiss behind my knee, and more droplets land on me. He must have showered before getting into bed.

  I moan softly. That spot always turns me on.

  “Do you like that?” He kisses the back of my other knee.

  “You know I do,” I hiss. I desperately want to get my hands and lips and tongue on his body.

  I feel him smile against my calf. His callused fingertips make their way down my legs and massage my feet. I give up trying to move and revel in his attention.

  Cole sucks on my big toe. Hard.

  “Gah!” Pleasure shoots directly to my core. I know I’m wet for him. So very wet.

  He stretches out over my back once again. Taking my hair in one hand, he tugs lightly, pulling my head upward. “I promised you I was going to inspect every square inch of your body, Ro. I’m a man of my word.”

  “Yes, you are.” Please, God, let me survive his inspection. Or else I’ll die very happy.

  He kisses my cheek. Nibbling his way down to my chin, he stops a pace away from my mouth, keeping my hair taut in his grip. I’m mesmerized by the deep green irises boring into me, nostrils flaring. All male. And all mine.

  “Do you want me, Ro?”

  Huh? Is he blind, deaf and devoid of a sense of smell? Even I catch my musky scent. All for him.

  He tugs on my hair. I gasp.

  “Say it.”

  Trying to move my hips under his body, I reply, “Yes, Cole. Please.”

  He smiles at me. It’s a wicked smile, filled with promises and devious intent. “You’re so sexy.”

  If possible, his smile broadens. I swear his dimple winks at me. “Now that’s what a man wants to hear from his woman when she’s naked and at his mercy. Now, enough talking.”

  He closes the gap between our lips, still keeping his hands in my hair. My neck is being stretched, but my weight is supported by my arms and it feels good. He’s totally in control of my body, and I’ve never been hotter for him.

  His gentle kiss belies the power of his position over me, which makes me want him even more. Leisurely, he caresses my lips with his, molding them over and over.

  My tongue reaches out and traces his beautiful, talented mouth. I love his gentle side, but I want to unleash the power that I know is lurking just beneath the surface.

  He moans, releases my hair and flips me over. Before I can draw a breath, he’s back on top of me, crushing his mouth to mine. His tongue invades, claiming me. My legs splay open and he pushes forward, grinding against me.

  I rotate my hips in time with his tongue. “Yes!”

  Cole pulls back, threading both of his hands through my hair so that his thumbs are on my cheeks. He rubs his right thumb against my swollen lips.

  I arch my back.

  “Not yet, Ro.” His eyes sweep over my body, leaving goosebumps in t
heir wake. “I promised you I’d inspect every square inch of your body, and I’m a man of my word.”

  Damn. “I want you now, Cole. You can inspect me after.”

  He laughs. “Oh, no, no, no. What would you think of me if I went back on my promise?” He latches onto my left nipple, making me squirm.

  I bring my legs around his waist, interlocking at my ankles. I’m going to make this as difficult for him as he’s making it for me.

  He tweaks my other nipple with his fingers.

  Pretending to concede, I let my legs drop back to the bed. But then I arch my upper body and wrap my hand around his thick, hard shaft.

  He shakes his head. “Rose.”

  I look up into his smoldering eyes. Squeezing, I say, “I won’t tell anyone if you don’t.”

  He looks down at my hand, then his eye blaze a trail back up my body, lingering on his favorite parts. “Two can play this game.”

  Uh-oh.

  His right hand skims my body and ends up at my sex. His tongue darts out, running across his lips while his finger opens me up and circles my folds. “So very wet.”

  A long, talented finger enters my body. Despite the pleasure running through my body, making me moan, I keep running my hand up and down his impressive length until he shudders.

  “You’re a vixen, Ro. My vixen.”

  He curls his finger inside me at exactly the right spot, triggering my first orgasm of the night. “Ohhhhhh,” I scream.

  “Nice.”

  My hand falls away from his hardness—he won again, but if this is losing, I’ll take it every time—and he moves to my feet and licks his way up each leg. He looks directly into my eyes when he reaches the apex of my thighs and wraps my legs over his shoulders. As if in slow motion, he sticks out his tongue and bends down, all while maintaining eye contact. I can’t control my body’s reaction when he swipes his tongue over me. It’s as if my last orgasm was last year and not five seconds ago.

  “I love how you taste, Ro.”

  And then he says stuff like that. I can’t process anything but the heat igniting in my body. And my desire to make him feel the exact same way.