Текст книги "Throb"

Автор книги: Vi Keeland

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chapter twenty-one

Kate

My reflection stares back at me, looking like what I am—thoroughly fucked. Lips swollen, hair disheveled, face completely flushed, I respond to the third knock on the bathroom door. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

The production assistant sighs from the other side of the door. He probably thinks I’m busy dolling myself up before I go on camera. Although for all I know, the whole place may know what I was doing in here fifteen minutes ago. I try hard to remember if we were loud, but all I can seem to recall is the incredible feeling of having Cooper inside my body once again. Everything else faded into the oblivion.

Five minutes ago he slipped out the door after the second knock came. I could tell he wanted to fling open the door and give whoever was on the other side a piece of his mind. But he didn’t—he held back and let me answer. I told the assistant sent to beckon me for my turn at filming that I wasn’t feeling well, that I needed some time.

The minutes that followed after orgasm are a haze. Sated and in Cooper’s arms, nothing, it seemed, could go wrong. But with every moment that ticks by, the haze clears and the trouble brewing rings so loud in my ears, I can barely hear.

I do my best to fix myself, the disheveled exterior anyway. A few minutes later another knock comes. “Kate, it’s Flynn.”

Shit.

“Are you okay?” he asks when I don’t respond.

“Yes. I just don’t feel that great.”

“Can I come in?”

I want to say no. I don’t want to see anyone right now. “I just need another minute.” Or year. Year would be better.

“I’ll wait.”

Two minutes later I take a deep breath and open the door. Flynn steps in and closes the door behind him. “Are you okay? You look flushed.”

“Yeah. Just not feeling so hot, I guess.”

The look on his face is concern. He reaches out and feels my forehead. “You’re not warm.” I look down—I can’t possibly look into his eyes. I was just in the arms of another man and this sweet guy is concerned that my freshly fucked flush might be a fever. I’m a horrible human being.

“Come here.” He pulls me to him. I want to run away, not let him touch me, but instead I freeze in place, unsure of how to react. He wraps his arms around me. “I think you’re just nervous about the shoot. The camera really makes you anxious, doesn’t it?” One of his hands moves to my shoulder. “You’re a ball of stress. Let me work my magic fingers on you for a few minutes to help it disappear.”

Nervous, I walk to the set next to Flynn, thankful he doesn’t try to hold my hand. There’s no sign of Cooper anywhere, but I know he’s here somewhere. He’s giving me space because I need it to get through this shoot, but Cooper Montgomery is not the type of man to stay in the shadows for very long.

The camera crew quickly arranges Flynn and me where they need us to stand. “Facing each other,” one of the production assistants says, “Kate’s palms flat on your upper chest. Talk for a minute or two. We’ll yell ‘ready’ when it’s time for Flynn to lean in for a kiss.”

Even when I’m situated in my assigned position, palms flat on chest, I avoid Flynn’s eyes. I can’t bear to look at him; surely he’ll see what a complete fraud I am.

“Kate,” Flynn says gently.

I still don’t look up at him.

“Kate,” he repeats. When I still don’t look up his hand gently cups my chin, lifting my face so my eyes meet his gaze. “You look gorgeous. Nervous and flushed is a good look for you.” He flashes a boyish smile and speaks quietly. He’s trying to put me at ease.

“Thank you.” God, I’m an utterly disgusting person. I’m not even sure what I feel guiltier about at the moment—my hands touching another man not twenty minutes after Cooper was inside of me, or the disrespect I’m showing Flynn.

“Ready!” The director yells, queuing us for a kiss.

Flynn and I stare at each other, I’m lost somewhere in outer space, and he tries diligently to find me. His eyes fall to my lips and then back to meet mine. I must look like a deer in the headlights, because he shows mercy, swerving to avoid a near disaster. Leaning down, he avoids my quivering mouth, instead pressing his lip to my temple. “I’ll deal with them. I’d never make you do anything you don’t want to do,” he whispers as a tear falls from my eye.

Flynn and Miles have a nearby heated exchange. And then Flynn returns, his victorious smile fading when he sees me.

“My kisses really aren’t that bad. I promise. I might have even heard a rumor that I was good at it.” He laces our fingers together and lifts my hand to kiss the top.

“I’m sorry. I feel terrible. It’s not you.” They might be the first truthful words I’ve said to this man today. It really isn’t him.

“Think you can handle a dance with me?”

The confusion on my face is evident.

“They’re going to shoot us slow-dancing. It’s what I worked out instead of a steamy kiss.”

My chest tightens. I’m not really even up to a dance, but how can I tell him that without making him think he doesn’t repulse me?

“Thank you. That would be great.”

“Don’t thank me. I might have been a little selfish suggesting it. I may not be getting a kiss, but I’m still getting your body pressed close to mine.”

Cooper’s classic Porsche is parked out front of my building when I finally return home. I pretty much expected him to appear at every turn today, but he didn’t. The anticipation of when he might appear only made the day that much more unbearable.

I pull into the spot next to him. He’s outside, leaning against his car, when I park.

“I wasn’t sure where you went,” I say.

“I couldn’t stay there any longer.”

“When did you leave?”

“About two seconds after the director yelled ‘Ready.’” He tugs his fingers harshly through his locks. It looks like he’s done quite a bit of that since earlier today, his mussed hair having bore the brunt of his stress. Yet I still can’t help noticing how sexy it makes him look.

“I couldn’t watch another man put his lips on you.” Cooper maintains the safe distance between us as he speaks.

“He didn’t,” I say softly.

“He didn’t what?” His hopeful gaze blazes into me.

“Kiss me.”

He steps closer, narrowing the gap between us until my back is up against my car. Positioning one hand on either side of my head against my Jeep, his eyes search mine. “Are you just telling me that because it’s what I want to hear?”

I shake my head. His eyes close with relief.

“Come home with me.” His voice is gentle, raw.

I thought not physically being around Cooper would free me to jump back into the game. Rekindle a spark that I’d once felt with Flynn. But that spark has been extinguished. And physically keeping away from Cooper doesn’t work because, unlike whatever I felt with Flynn, things with Cooper are more than physical. I nod and let him lead me to his car without bothering to get any of my things.

Cooper finally breaks the silence as we make our way onto the highway. “I’m glad he’s a fool.”

“He’s not a fool.”

“Don’t defend him.” His eyes flash to me. “Give me that much at least.”

“Okay. But he was just trying to be respectful.”

“Respect or not, given the chance to kiss you, I’m taking it every damn time.”

Inside his apartment, Cooper opens a wine fridge and lifts a bottle of wine, offering it to me for approval. “When do you have to be back?”

I nod. “Tomorrow night. We have a selection ceremony and then a week off. That’s if I make it to the final four.”

“I need you to stay tonight.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” He hands me a crystal glass and pushes the hair from my face.

I nod. “I want you to hold me. I know you had to leave today, but I felt it when you were gone.”

He responds by wrapping me tightly in his arms and buries his nose in my hair, inhaling deeply. We stay that way until what amounts to a sigh rolls through my body.

“I need to wash off all this makeup they put on me.”

“Why don’t you go take a shower?”

“Okay.”

“I could also use a shower,” he says, running his hand down my arm and leaving a trail of goosebumps. “Although we’re only going to need another one after we get all sweaty.”

He leads me into a bathroom I didn’t see last time I was here and pushes a few buttons on a nearby panel. It’s a walk in shower bigger than my first apartment. Built for more than one, water shoots out of jets from three sides, the top an indulgent oversized rain shower.

“Fancy shower.”

“Hmmm.” He slips off my shirt, his focus shifting from conversation to undressing me.

“Looks like it’s made for more than one.” The hand reaching for my pant zipper freezes and he glances up at me.

“Never took a shower with anyone in here.” I catch that he says in here and it makes my mind start to wonder if that’s why he’s brought me into this bathroom. It shouldn’t matter; I’m no virgin either.

“Or in the other shower,” he says directly into my eyes.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Yes, but you were thinking it.”

I ignore his comment, although I reach for the buttons on his shirt a little happier. “So now you know what I’m thinking?”

“This time. Yes.” He draws down my pants and kneels down, tapping my calf for me to step out. “It would make my day a lot more productive if I knew what you were thinking more often.”

“Are you blaming me for your unproductiveness?”

He unfastens the back of my bra with one hand. The extent of his dexterity removing lingerie doesn’t go unnoticed. “Yes. I’m blaming you for my unproductiveness.” The finger stroking the side of my breast pauses. “I’ve been near idle since I met you.” He looks up at me.

In the moment, I fall a little bit harder for him. The domineering, sexy, authoritative man, who takes command of a room just by walking into it, just admitted I was his kryptonite. I’m barely able to stop myself from launching at him. Instead, I kiss him fiercely. Hard and long, until I’m so lost in his arms that I don’t even realize he’s carried me into the shower.

I love the way we kiss, as if we’ve been starved for each other for weeks, when it was only a matter of hours since he was buried inside of me. We grope and pull, scratch and claw. He bites my lip so hard when I go to pull away for air that it hurts. But it’s a pain that shoots down to the sensitive flesh between my legs, inciting a fire deep inside of me. My hands go to his hair, pulling, wrenching, clenching—needing him closer. I can’t get enough.

One of his hands drops to my ass and he grabs a handful, squeezing hard before he lifts and guides my legs to wrap around his waist. My back hits the cold tile wall, his hand behind my head protecting me from the full extent of the harshness of our actions.

My entire body aches for him. In a way I’ve never experienced. A savage need rumbles in the pit of my stomach that leaves me desperate to feed it. I moan, feeling the full length of his hardness pushed up firmly against my belly. “I want you,” I breathe out against our pressed lips.

“Patience,” he mumbles back.

I arch my back and use the wall to leverage myself, forcing my body lower in an attempt to bring what I want closer. I need him inside of me. He pulls his head back, amused, his mouth curving to a wicked grin. “That will only make it longer until I give you what you want.” He drops his head and sucks my nipple in.

Somewhere between agonizing torture and blissful euphoria he finally concedes. My head falls back, thudding against the tile, and I whimper as he pushes into me. He drives deep, filling me completely, and then stills, claiming my eyes under the same control that he possesses my body before he begins to move. Satisfied with our gaze locked, he sets an unrelenting pace, pulling almost all the way out each time before slamming back into the hollows of my body. The intensity of each stroke is heightened by the emotions I see in his eyes as he watches me, focused keenly on satisfying my needs before his own.

My body wilts as I come, but the way he says my name with a jagged edge as he fills me, never breaking our gaze, leaves me in awe of the passion we are able to ignite. Together. I’d heard the phrase a million times but never really thought it had any truth until this moment. Cooper Montgomery just ruined me for all other men.

chapter twenty-two

Cooper

“My dad died last year. He left my mother and brother drowning in debt. My mom is sick and my brother is disabled.” We’re lying in bed, the room dark, her head snuggled in the crook of my shoulder as her finger traces light circles on my pec. “My brother and I were in an accident a few years ago. I was the only one who walked away.” Her voice cracks with a sadness that wraps around my heart and squeezes. “I applied to the show because of the prize. I didn’t really give it much thought. I guess I never thought they’d pick me as a contestant.”

I already know everything she’s confessing, but it means a lot that she decides to share it with me. I kiss the top of her forehead. “I’m sorry. How bad is it?”

“The house is mortgaged for more than it’s worth and there was barely any life insurance after they deducted the loans my father had taken. He was an all-or-nothing type of man. Didn’t do things halfway. It was great when he was on a winning streak. But when he was losing, he didn’t stop until he had nothing left but the shirt on his back. He was missing the in-between gene.”

“And your brother?”

“He’s doing okay, health-wise at least, right now. We don’t burden him with any of the financial stuff. He’s already been burdened more than any other teenager should have to be.”

“Will the prize money get them out of debt, or is it just a temporary fix?”

“It depends.”

“On what?”

“On if I make it to the final four or the end. The final four is a Band-Aid. The end makes the problem go away.”

“I see the way he looks at you. You’re definitely making the final four.”

“I thought you didn’t stay to watch today?” She lifts, perching her head up on her elbow, and looks down at me.

Time for a little of my own confessions. “I’ve been sort of watching the dailies of the show every morning.”

“Sort of?”

“Maybe ‘sort of’ isn’t the right term.”

“What would be the right term?”

“‘Religiously’ might work.”

“You’ve been religiously watching the dailies of the show every morning?”

“Hence the unproductiveness I mentioned earlier.”

We’re both quiet for a while, and then I say what I’ve been thinking about since Damian Fry delivered the background report on Kate and her family. “Let me help you.”

“What do you mean?”

I shift, easing her to her back, and sift my fingers through her loose hair. “I’ll give you the money you need.”

“That’s sweet. But I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“I can’t take money from you, Cooper.”

“Then consider it a loan. You can pay me back someday.”

“I’ll never be able to pay you back. The bank was right in turning down my application. My student loans will strangle me for the next ten years.”

“I can’t watch you with him, Kate.”

“So stop watching.”

“You act like I have a choice.”

“You do. It’s easy. Don’t press play. Plus, there hasn’t been anything happening worth watching.”

“He’s in love with you.”

“He is not. But even if he was, it wouldn’t matter.”

“It matters to me. Were you telling me the truth when you said you haven’t slept with him?”

“Is that what you think of me? I’m lying here in bed with you. Do you think I’d be doing that if I was sleeping with him?”

“I can’t think straight anymore, Kate.” I yank through my hair.

“That’s why this wasn’t a good idea.” She rolls away from me and sits up. “I shouldn’t have come.”

Like a fool, I say nothing, instead only watch as she goes to the bathroom and comes out dressed. “I called a cab,” she says quietly, her eyes purposefully avoiding mine. “But then I realized I don’t know your address.”

“Come back to bed.”

“Just tell me your address so I can go.”

“No.”

“No?”

“If you really want to go home, I’ll take you. But you’re going to listen first.”

She doesn’t agree, but she doesn’t make any attempt to move to the bed either. So I move to her, not bothering to put on any clothes or cover up. It throws her off guard. “Kiss me.”

“What? No.”

“Damn it, Kate.” I cup her head and seal my mouth over hers. Her flimsy attempt to protest is quickly swallowed by a moan as her body sags into my arms. My heart is raging in my chest as I lift her and carry her back to bed.

“Cooper …”

I cut her off. “Shhh … tomorrow. We’ll figure it out tomorrow.”

chapter twenty-three

Kate

Stubble. If I thought Cooper Montgomery was a god cleanly shaven, wearing a custom-tailored suit, it was only because I’ve never seen him in ripped jeans, a dark t-shirt and stubble. Jesus. The man does things to me. Seeing him standing at the stove, suddenly the speech I’d rehearsed in my mind has escaped me.

“Morning.” He grins at me and eyes my stealing his dress shirt again with approval.

“Coffee?”

“Kiss first.” He crooks his finger in my direction with a steely gaze.

I roll my eyes like it’s the ultimate sacrifice as I lazily shuffle over to him.

He grabs my ass with one hand and directs my head to where he wants it with the other. The hand on my backside swats with a hard smack when he releases my mouth.

“What was that for?” I rub the stinging cheek of my ass.

“For rolling your eyes at me.” Strangely, I think to myself that I’ll need to remember to roll my eyes more often.

“I thought you didn’t cook?” I peer at the three burners he has going.

“I don’t.”

“Looks like you know what you’re doing.”

“I said I didn’t cook. I never said I didn’t know how. Sit. I’ll pour your coffee.”

“Bossy,” I mumble under my breath, but take the seat he points to on the other side of the counter.

“You must be difficult to work for.”

Cooper cocks one eyebrow. “And why is that?”

“Because you’re so bossy.”

“My employees don’t tend to be as difficult as you.” He slides a mug over to me.

“Is that so?”

“It is.”

“Do you have a lot of female employees?”

“Would it bother you if I did?”

“I’m not sure.” I shrug and consider it. “It might. But that’s not why I asked.”

“Okay. Well about half of my department heads are women.”

“And do you find any of them bossy?”

A wry grin crosses his perfectly masculine face. “You think I have an issue with women in general?”

“Maybe.” I sip my coffee.

Cooper plates breakfast and walks around the island to join me at the stools. He leans down, sweeps the hair from my shoulder and tenderly kisses my neck. His words vibrate on my skin. “You’re the only woman I have an issue with.”

Belly full, I fork the remnants of breakfast around my plate, delaying the inevitable. The conversation is bound to come. “I seem to overeat when I’m with you,” I say, finishing the last of the bacon.

“That’s good. I like to watch you eat.”

“Well if I ate like this often, I’d gain ten pounds in a month.”

“Not with lots of exercise.”

“I’m not really great about getting to the gym. Twice-a-week yoga if I’m being good.”

“There are plenty of other ways to burn calories I think you might enjoy better.” Cooper kisses my mouth and takes my plate to the sink.

He turns around, leaning against the counter and folds his arms. “You ready to have that talk?”

“Not really.”

“Oh. But I have an idea to make things interesting.” He turns, opens a drawer, pulls out a pack of cards, and tosses them on the counter.

“We’re going to play cards?” I furrow my brow.

“Yep. I have some ideas. But you may not like a few of them. So we’re going to play a hand to decide our stalemates. You in?”

“You do know I’m pretty good at playing, right?”

Cooper grins. “I do. But I plan to throw off your game by distracting you.”

“And how will you do that?”

“We’re going to play naked.”

I look up at him with raised eyebrows. “Confident your nakedness will throw me off, are you?”

Cooper draws down his pants, his semi-hard erection springing free. Damn. Commando. He leisurely strokes his cock a few times. My eager eyes follow the slide of his hand up and down. My mouth salivates when a tiny drop glistens at the tip of the wide crown.

“Kate.” My eye leap to his, but he keeps stroking and my gaze falls victim to the ever-growing swell. “If your concentration isn’t rattled enough, I’m going to use my mouth on your sweet pussy until you can’t see the cards straight.”

“Oh.” I try to force my thoughts out of the gutter and focus.

“You ready?”

“Do I have a choice?”

He grins. “Not really.”

“I think your real plan was to get me out of my clothes so I couldn’t run away after you told me that.”

“It was a light investigation. I do more on my employees.”

“And you run background checks on women you date too?”

“So we’re dating?”

“You know what I meant.”

“If we were dating, maybe I wouldn’t have had to figure out what was going on myself. Maybe you would have shared it with me.”

“I did share it with you.”

“Last night.”

“So?”

“I needed to know what I was up against before that.”

“So you invaded my priva …” I trail off, my eyes getting caught in his web of actions again. He’s sitting against the headboard, naked as a jaybird, with me between his legs, facing him—wearing a matching outfit. And he starts stroking again just as I’m about to yell at him.

“I know what you’re doing,” I swallow and say.

“And do you like watching me do it?” His mouth curves to an impish smile. This is going to be more difficult than I thought.

“I’ll start.”

“Okay,” I say with trepidation.

“I want to be with you. Do you want to be with me?”

“Yes … but …”

He holds up his hand. “Let’s take baby steps. I’ve thought this through all morning.”

“Okay.”

“So we’ve got the most important thing established. We want to be together. The rest will take some negotiation.”

“I think you’ve figured out something we both already knew. The hard part is how to get through the next five weeks.”

“I’d like you to quit the show today. I understand you want to help your family. I find it noble actually. But my first preference is to pay off the debt for you. I have the money and it would make me happy to help.”

“I can’t do that, Cooper.” It’s tempting, truly it is. Even the thought of having a little of the load I shoulder lifted, makes me feel like someday I really will have my own life back again. But I need to take care of my family before that can happen.

“That’s an impasse. We’ll play a hand for that decision.” Cooper removes the cards from their box.

I squint my eyes, watching him. Something in the way his jaw flexes lights the bulb over my head. “I’ll shuffle and deal,” I say, extending my hand.

“Are you concerned I might cheat if given the opportunity?”

I don’t respond verbally. Instead I deal out five cards each, suits facing up. Cooper’s hand miraculously has four queens. “Did you think four aces would be to obvious?”

The corner of his mouth twitches. “Maybe.”

I scoop up the cards. “You want to settle things this way. We’ll do it, but we’ll do it fair and square.” I shuffle the cards with one hand like a pro.

Cooper loses the first hand. “You even beat me without your lucky chip.”

“You’re probably one of the few people I can beat without my lucky chip.”

“You really believe in superstition that much?”

“No, you’re just that bad.”

“Maybe your brand of superstition just doesn’t work for me.”

“You prefer blowing on dice to a lucky chip?”

“Dice is definitely not what I prefer you blowing on.” Cooper’s hand drops and my eyes follow the firm stroke of his hard on.

“Stop that,” I scold.

“Fine. But we need rules then. If you’re going back to the show.”

“What kind of rules.”

“Rule one—No sex with anyone but me. That’s a given.”

“Done,” I say. Easy decision there.

“No kissing.”

“But at the ceremony … we always have to kiss him when we get picked.”

“So I can stick my tongue in Tatiana’s mouth?”

“Has it been there before?”

“That’s not the point. If you’re okay with kissing, you won’t mind if I say hello to Tatiana with my tongue.”

“Rule two—no tongue kissing,” I grumble.

“You make it through to the final four, collect the prize money, then quit. I’ll loan you the money to pay off your mother’s debt, and you can pay it back after your student loans are paid off.”

“That’s ten years.”

“I’m not worried about it.”

“Impasse.” I hold out the cards. “Can I trust you to deal this time?”

“Maybe you should deal. My hands have better things to do.” He strokes himself, then reaches out and pinches my nipple.

“It’s not going to work.” It’s totally working.

I deal quickly.

I win again. I would never have guessed I’d be happy to win paying off my own student loans.

“Miles wants to use our family home in Barbados to house the contestants the last two weeks. I’m going to let him. The contestants will stay in the guesthouse. I want you to be comfortable; there’s a room I want you to stay in there. Dickhead will stay at a hotel.”

“I’d love that.”

“There’s more.”

His face is apprehensive. I feel like I’m on a roller coaster. One minute I’m riding high, packing my imaginary bags for a week in Barbados. The next minute, I’m perched at the top, my stomach hurling to a nervous drop as I wait for the free-fall that’s about to come.

“You took your brother out of therapy.”

I quirk an eyebrow. “A light background investigation, huh?”

“The investigator might have gotten carried away.”

Sure, the investigator got carried away. “The therapy is still considered experimental. The insurance doesn’t cover it.”

“I want to pay for the therapy.”

“I can’t let you do that. But it’s sweet of you to offer. Really.”

“Impasse.”

“This doesn’t even have to do with me or the show.”

“Does it cause you stress that he’s not going to therapy?”

“Yes.”

“Then it’s related. Deal.”

Not even the best players can win every hand. I try in earnest, but lose.

“Good thing I won that one.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I paid the therapist over the phone before you got out of bed this morning.”