Beneath Your Beautiful, page 17
“That’s something we can try.”
I huff. “You’re impossible.”
“And you are frustrated, but also turned on right now.”
“Don’t you have a filter?”
“Not really my thing.” I growl, making him chuckle. “Cute.”
“Was it cute when I shot you?”
“A little arousing.”
“You’re a freak.”
He leans down and places his lips against my ear. My thighs clench. “Perhaps that’s what you need.”
“What I need is for you to get out of my room.”
He trails his nose down my throat. Goosebumps erupt across my chest and down my arms. “Are you sure? I can help you get out of your head.”
“One hundred percent.”
His gaze meets mine as he lifts his head away. “You promised. No lies.”
“This reaction is just instinct. I would be having it no matter who the attractive guy was. Don’t think you’re a special cupcake. You aren’t.”
“Really?” he says with a tilt of his head. “You want to put that theory to the test, Cleo?”
Bad idea, reverse, reverse. “Anytime.” Okay, so my idiot brain is in charge right now.
“Give me one kiss,” he says.
“No.”
“Chicken.”
“I’m not twelve. You can’t goad me into a reaction by calling my personality into question.”
“How can you expect anything to change if you don’t do something differently?”
Huh, that makes sense. My eyes lower to his mouth. Am I really contemplating a kiss? The guy just watched you try and fail to get yourself off—it’s not as if this is breaking some invisible housemate boundary. That happened sometime between fantasizing about him in the pool and the book conversation.
“Let me up.”
He releases a sigh, clearly disappointed as he lets go of my hands and sits back on the bed. Before I can talk myself out of it, I rise to my knees and swing my leg over his, so I’m straddling him. My hands wind into his silky hair as his mouth parts in surprise.
A smile curves my lips as his arms wrap around my back, and he holds me close to his body. He’s half naked, dressed only in a pair of sleep pants. The heat rolling off his chest caresses my front, seeping beneath my skin. I can feel his heart thudding powerfully.
“One kiss,” I mutter.
“One kiss,” he agrees.
I close the distance and graze my lips against his, expecting to feel panic and disgust at the physical touch. What I get is so much worse. Fire blazes a path down my spine and tingles between my legs. My thighs clench in response as his hands flex on my back and hold me a little closer. That’s not normal. Kissing has never felt like this. I press my mouth against his, keen to erase the promise of heat in his touch. This is about proving I’m not a slave to the desire in my veins, that Fox Alderidge is not the guy for me. He’s the opposite of what I need.
His hand slides into my hair, tugging on it, and my mouth parts at the gentle sting. His tongue swipes across my lips and washes away every single notion that I am not going to be affected by his kiss, that my entire world isn’t tilting on its axis to accommodate the storm he promises—one that will sweep away my self doubt, fear, and the notion I am broken. Fox Alderidge kisses me like I’m the most desirable woman in the world, and that is devastating.
He groans as I open to him and deepen the kiss. My body arches, and tears sting my eyes. The war of emotions makes me dizzy. He leans up, and his hard erection presses between my legs. Ice splashes down my spine, chasing away the fire and leaving me with the fear. I break away and shift, falling backward off the bed and out of his arms. I squeeze my eyes closed and brace for the pain, but his strong hands flex and catch me.
He twists and dumps me onto the bed beside him before falling to his knees in front of me. My hands cover my face and a sob tears free from my throat.
He tucks some hair behind my ear. “Hey, what happened?” he asks. His soft tone undoes me.
I shake my head and keep my face covered, my cheeks heating with embarrassment. I was wrong. I am broken. So fucking smashed into pieces I will never again be whole.
“Just leave.”
“No.”
My hands drop, and I glare at him. “You want a front row seat to a fucked-up woman who can’t even feel a man’s hard cock against her panties and not panic? Even if that man is kissing her and there are sparks flying like some romantic movie?”
His lips twitch. “Sparks, huh?”
“Not the point.”
“Actually, that is the point. You think I didn’t feel that kiss down to my core? You want me to lie and say it was lackluster, like kissing my grandmother?”
“Ew, not okay.”
His lips twitch. “Also, I’m going to be replaying that kiss in my head with the way you say hard cock for the rest of the day.”
“You are impossible.”
He winks. “I’m determined.”
“To what?”
“To have you squirming in my arms again. To show you that you aren’t broken. You are a desirable, hot-blooded woman with needs she might not understand.”
“And you are just the man to teach me.”
“It’s a public service I offer to very few.”
Then he rises, drops a featherlight kiss on my forehead, and stalks from the room, leaving my body aching for more and my heart packing its bags and making a hundred different plans for escape. I squeeze my eyes closed. Maybe I should run now. It’s not Gideon on my tail, but a grumpy bodyguard with trust issues determined to show me I’m not broken. I have never heard anything more seductive. I am in so much trouble.
CHAPTER 25
FOX
A moral compass is tested when someone who isn’t playing by the same rules as you tries to decimate your world.
There’s a driving need in me to uncover her secrets. The notion that she is here to hurt or take advantage of my grandmother is shattered into dust. As stated, Cleo Williams isn’t hiding because she did something wrong, she’s hiding from someone who has done her wrong. That person has had such a profound impact on her psyche that she can’t let go to accept the touch of another.
She needs to listen to her body’s response to touch, to relearn what makes her sink into the pleasure of the here and now, not the pain of the past. Which is why I’m scrolling on my laptop as I wait for Larry to call with an update.
Her first gift should be here before lunchtime as I ordered that yesterday. The rest will arrive tomorrow. My eyebrows rise at the plethora of options available. Since when did they make stuff that needed a video instruction to use? Where does that… oh, I see. Yup, one of those. All the options for Cleo. I switch departments and grin at the extra things I’m about to add.
Her shower switches on. That’s my cue. I move into her bedroom and have no shame as I lift the outfit she’s selected for herself off the bed. I turn it over in my hands as an idea forms in my mind, a sly smile spreading across my face. A woman as beautiful as Cleo needs to feel gorgeous inside and out.
My laptop announces Larry’s call just as I select rush delivery from the menu. I quickly close the page and click on accept, and his face fills the screen. He squints at me.
“Where are you?” he asks.
“Pool house.”
“I see. Keeping yourself out of the public eye?”
“Red Lake is only interested in local gossip, not national. It’s both a blessing and a curse.”
“Well, make sure you stay out of both.”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. “Do you have an update for me?”
“Yes and no.”
“Ever the lawyer’s answer.”
He arches a brow and leans forward. “I can’t locate the mystery woman that is your alibi. But, I had a thought.”
“God forbid.”
His lips twitch. Will wonders never cease? Larry has a sense of humor. “If we can’t prove who you were with, let’s prove who you weren’t with.”
I narrow my eyes. “Why haven’t we done that before?”
“Because to do that means picking around in her life, which you said you didn’t want to do. Something about your moral code.”
“It’s difficult to alter my perspective when I’m employed to protect.”
“She ditched the moral code when she leveled this accusation against you, Fox. It’s time to play dirty to get to the truth. They won’t hesitate to use everything they have if we end up in court, and I know you want to avoid that at all costs. So let me dig where you aren’t willing to go.”
I swipe a hand down my face. “Fine.”
He grins, reminding me why he’s one of the best defense lawyers in the country. I am all for paying for your crimes, but this one I didn’t commit. I’m not willing to be a sacrificial lamb for a woman who ultimately got caught cheating and used me as a scapegoat. A small part of my heart still hopes she will come to her senses and see reason. Destroying someone’s life to cover up her own transgressions is a sure-fire ticket to Hell.
“I’ll call next week and let you know what we find,” Larry says. “And Fox, remember—”
“Keep my nose clean and away from women. I know, Larry. I’m not stupid.”
He makes it out like I’m a guy who struggles to keep it in my pants. I’m not. I enjoy sex and women, but my encounters are casual, engineered for a release, not a relationship. It has suited my lifestyle to date. Cleo is the first woman in a very long time who has caught my attention. I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad thing, but I’m rolling with it.
The bedroom door opens, and I exit the call with Larry, forgoing the usual goodbyes. He’s used to me by now. I spin around as Cleo appears in a pair of ass-hugging jeans and a plain baggy black T-Shirt that hides her body. No makeup, as usual, and she’s twisted her wet hair into a bun on the top of her head. The freckles across her nose have expanded onto her cheeks from her brief sunbathing yesterday. She is fucking stunning without even trying.
“Breakfast?” she asks as she avoids my eyes. Duke lumbers out behind her. I think I have lost my dog to this woman, and I’m not exactly mad about it.
I follow her to the main house. “That would be great, thank you.”
She moves around the kitchen with practiced ease, and my grandmother makes her entrance at exactly seven. She arches a brow at me and swings her gaze to Cleo.
“Good morning. How was your day?” she asks both of us.
“Great,” Cleo says in a slightly higher pitch than normal.
“And your night?” my grandmother asks.
Cleo whisks the eggs a little too hard, making some mixture splatter on the worktop. “Peaceful.”
Ha. If she calls having a sexy dream and kissing me peaceful, then I’m going to have to step up my game. Keeping her off balance is part of the plan.
“What are your plans today?” my gran asks us both.
“Catch up on yesterday’s tasks, check in with Samuel about the renovations, and head into town to pick up some bits from the market.”
“I already did the tasks,” I inform her.
She tosses me a glance over her shoulder. “When?”
“Does it matter? I cleaned the windows and vacuumed underneath the sofa cushions, so you are all set for today.”
She turns and pours us all a cup of tea. Her gaze drops to my gran’s hands, who moves them into her lap away from our eyes. Cleo adds the right amount of milk and sugar, but I notice my gran’s cup is only half full. My hand reaches out to grab the teapot to top it up. “What are you doing?” Cleo snaps as she starts assembling the breakfast on the plates.
“Making sure my grandmother has a full cup for breakfast.” I think it’s obvious.
“I’m limiting my caffeine intake,” my grandmother says. “Cleo is just following my instructions.”
I frown as I set the pot back down. No, something else is going on here and the knowing look between the two of them just underscores that fact.
Cleo takes her seat on my grandmother’s other side, and they fall into conversation about the usual items in the newspaper between them.
“The fish man will be at the market today. What sounds good?” Cleo asks.
“Whatever’s fresh. Sometimes he has salmon, sometimes prawns. I’m easy.”
Cleo’s gaze raises to mine. “Are you joining us tonight?”
“Of course.”
“You should accompany Cleo to town,” my grandmother declares. Not this again.
“I’m good,” Cleo mutters. “I’m not twelve.”
“Nonsense. Fox is going to take you to the surprise I’ve set up especially for you.”
Cleo slants a look at her. “Helen, I don’t need surprises.”
“Tough. Make an old woman happy and accept the gift graciously.”
Cleo sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. “Eat up,” I instruct. “Unless you want to play the fainting damsel again, and I’ll have you coming in my arms.”
Her eyes narrow on mine. Yes, there is a double meaning there, and I won’t apologize for it.
Duke growls thirty seconds before someone knocks on the door. Cleo is already up and out of her chair before I can think of moving. She flings the door open, and I can hear the delight in Samuel’s intake of breath at being greeted by his latest obsession. I wonder how attracted he’d be knowing scary games and horror movies make her hot and bothered, and that she isn’t looking to be handled with kid gloves, but rather ushered into the darkness that creeps on the outskirts of her soul. Sure, she could end up with someone like Samuel, but she’d never be truly satisfied and that’s where the cracks in relationships appear—when one or both can’t be honest about what they need.
“I missed you yesterday,” he declares. Jesus, dude, desperate much? Where has the guy who can sweep any girl off her feet gone?
“Why?” Cleo answers.
My grandmother’s head leans to the side, and I copy her to see Samuel rubbing the back of his head. “I like seeing you everyday, Cleo. It sets me up for the day and keeps me smiling.”
“That’s me, a ray of sunshine and glittery rainbows,” she deadpans, stepping back to let him in.
He enters the house, his gaze landing on us. His cheeks pinken a little and he shoves a small parcel at her. She clasps it with a frown. “That’s for you.”
She tilts her head. “Presents? It’s not my birthday.”
Truth. “Uh, no, the mailman handed me that after I parked.” She tosses a glance over her shoulder.
“It’s from me,” I declare.
Her fingers tap against the side of the white box. “You still okay for tomorrow?” Samuel checks.
“Yeah, Samuel. Tomorrow. Sure.”
She spins on her heel and dumps the box on the kitchen island. “Excuse me. I’ll be back in ten.” Then she’s out of the door and disappearing into the pool house. What triggered her? The gift, or the date? Both perhaps.
My grandmother chuckles as she finishes up her breakfast and pours herself some more tea. She is not making any sense right now.
“You are making an idiot of yourself,” I tell Samuel as he looks at the back door like a lost puppy.
He swipes a hand down his face. “Dude, I know. I can’t help it—she has me tied up in knots.”
I fold my arms and lean against the breakfast bar. “Why?”
“Why, what?”
“Why her? And where’s your game?”
“Cleo doesn’t respond to my usual game, and I’m not playing for one night, or even one week. That woman is marriage material. She’s going to wear my ring and have my babies one day.” Fuck. That. His hands drop to his sides. “Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed. I know you, Fox.”
“She’s not my type.”
“She’s everyone’s type.”
I shrug. “Fair enough.”
“Maybe you can put a good word in for me.”
“No.”
“What, why?”
“Because you are either who she wants and needs, or not. I’m not feeding her a lie, you’ll need to figure it out for yourself. But I will give you one piece of advice.”
“What?”
“Be yourself. Don’t lie to her, and don’t put on an act of who you think she wants you to be. She will cut through that bullshit and leave you weeping on the floor. A woman like Cleo is marriage material—endgame—but only for the right man.”
“And you think that isn’t me?”
“Not what I said.”
“You are talking in riddles.”
I chuckle and grab the parcel from the counter. It’s time my friend learned to stop wearing a mask for what he thinks everyone wants him to be and learn to be himself. Cleo is about to school him in being genuine, and I’m glad to have a ringside seat.
CHAPTER 26
HONOR
Red isn’t the color of sin, it’s the color of fire.
How is this my life? I was minding my own business, helping a lovely older woman battle her everyday tasks, and in sweeps her grandson with his stupid warm whisky eyes, steel muscles, and soft lips. My hand ghosts over my tingling lips. Damn kiss is playing on repeat in my mind. No one kiss should have the power to consume your every thought and spin a web of desire in your body that needs to be satisfied by the orchestrator of that kiss.
The main door opens, and I spin around to find Fox stalking toward me with the parcel in his hands. I eyeball it like a snake. “What’s in it?” I mutter.
He smirks as he starts unwrapping it. “Don’t panic, it’s just a phone. If you are looking after my grandmother and her mystery ailment, then you need to be contactable. Unless you want to explain to me what is going on with her?”
I narrow my gaze, fully aware I’m being manipulated. “That’s not for me to disclose.”
He bobs his head as he slides the top off the box. “I admire your integrity. But that leads us to you being contactable.”
I fold my arms. “But you are here.”
“And I’m unaware of her needs because neither of you are forthcoming. Half a cup of tea? Really?”
