Undone, Volume 2, page 21part #2 of Undone Series
New Year’s Day I woke up in a mountain cabin with Ash Black, nothing but the sound of the wind and snow falling thick all around us. There’s nothing I’ve been more afraid of than this. Just us, no distractions, no paparazzi, no interfering agents or crazed fans. All that noise made it easier to hide from the feelings building up inside of me. I’m terrified of the way he makes me feel, the way I’m falling for him so hard.
But now he has me alone, snowed in, at his amazing mountain cabin. He’s all muscle and sex. His voice alone makes me wet. One touch sends me reeling, and he seems to sense and want to unlock all of my most secret fantasies, the ones I haven’t even admitted to myself I want.
This romance is fake. I keep telling myself that. I can’t really trust him. This is all pretend.
But then he pulls me close, presses a hand to the small of my back, kisses my throat and whispers low and wicked in my ear, “Let yourself go.” How am I supposed to say no to that?
NOTE: Undone is a three-volume hot adult romance. It’s the second story in the Beg for It series about the dominant, alpha males in Ash’s family and the strong, sexy women who make them finally meet their match.
UNDONE, VOLUME 3
Good thing Connor had been there at the party. Ana had passed out cold, but he’d been there to catch her. Who knew what could have happened to her if he hadn’t been there? By the time I arrived, she was already slung over Connor’s shoulder and they were halfway out the door.
“Is she OK?” I rushed over. What the hell? Ana hadn’t even seemed drunk when I’d spoken with her last. Of course, I’d been away for a while. Two minutes never meant two minutes, and Lola and the owner had monopolized my time for far longer than I’d intended.
“There you are.” Connor shifted her weight on his shoulder. For a little guy, he was strong as hell. “Been looking for you. Your girl’s passed out.”
“I can see that.” I reached to take her from him and I could have sworn he pulled away. For a second. But that second passed and then he eased Ana into my arms.
“Guess she was doing shots earlier with some of the girls.”
“Really?” She didn’t stir at all in my arms, completely out.
“Yeah, then I saw her pound something else down. I went over to check on her and she passed out.”
“Shit.” She looked so vulnerable in my arms, completely out cold. I was glad Connor had found her. “I guess she doesn’t usually drink much.”
“Your librarian’s a lightweight,” Connor confirmed, reaching up to clap me on the back. “Hey, man!” He dove back into the party, high-fiving some guy in the crowd.
“Thanks for looking after her!” I called to him, but he didn’t hear me. He was already off and into the next mess he could find. Messes seemed to follow Connor wherever he went.
I brought her back to my hotel suite, glad I didn’t run into any cameras on the way. I was only down the hall and the hotel had good security for a party like the one we had going on. But celebrities drew paparazzi like a garbage dump drew flies, a perfect match. So I felt relief as I reached my door and entered into the darkness.
Ana was going to have one hell of a hangover, I could already tell that. Sleeping soundly and, it appeared peacefully, not an eyelid fluttered as I rested her down onto the bed. She had her own suite, but I wanted to be near her. And I could always use her passing out as an excuse—I’d wanted to keep an eye on her, make sure she was OK. I could say it with honesty. It was the truth.
For maybe the first time in my life, I honestly wanted to be in a hotel room watching over someone sleeping rather than partying like it was 1999 down the hall. What was happening to me? Had I grown up overnight, taken some sort of hormone pill that finally kicked me out of adolescence?
But, when I thought of it, I’d been heading down this road for a while. Slowly pulling away from Connor and his antics, the number of times I turned down something wild and crazy starting to outpace the number of times I went along with it—never mind how rarely I came up with that sort of shit myself anymore. I’d never admitted it out loud to anyone, hadn’t even really to myself, but when I’d dated Mandy I’d hoped. Or at least I’d wondered—would she be different? I’d been needing a change for a long time.
Now that change had come. I sat on the edge of the bed, looking at Ana so peaceful. Her lashes so long, her perfect full lips, the curve of her cheekbone. I wanted to memorize every inch of her.
Because somehow earlier when we’d spoken it had felt like she hadn’t just been wanting to leave the party. It had felt like she’d wanted to leave me. I understood wanting to get out of that party. I’d felt exactly the same way. But had she been trying to end things between us? The thought made something in my chest seize up like an engine with no oil.
She had every right to end things. I knew that. I’d even understand it if she did. And stupid over her as I was, I still managed to remember ending things was the plan. She was supposed to break up with me on January ninth. It was now the first. We had barely over a week left.
But if things ended between us, I wanted them to end for the right reasons. It shouldn’t be because she got freaked out over the celebrity lifestyle. I’d spent a long time surrounded by the circus, but here was the nasty little secret celebrities never talked about: if you didn’t seek out the spotlight, it generally went away. All that fussing and whining about being constantly hounded and stalked? I could list a bunch of famous people I knew who managed it well, kept a low profile. They just didn’t do public, drunk, messy shit.
And maybe it was time to put all that behind me? I had a hunch that if I were with Ana, I wouldn’t miss it for a second. I could still keep on with music. I knew I’d always do that, but maybe there was something else? Some other way? And maybe we could figure it out together?
But here we were in Vegas, probably the worst place in the world for real, heart-to-heart talks about toning things down and stepping out of the glitz and glam. In Vegas, the lights literally never went out. Especially on New Year’s Eve.
I hadn’t even given Ana a midnight kiss. That seemed a damn shame. I’d been caught up after the show with glad-handing and photos and people Lola said I had to meet. Then everyone all around started counting down and some groupie had pulled me down into a kiss I managed to twist onto my cheek.
No, Vegas wasn’t doing us any favors. But the thing about Vegas was you could always leave it behind. And you know what wasn’t too far away? Mammoth. I had a cabin there. Or, technically, the band had a cabin there. A big, tricked out one. The slopes were better in Tahoe, and much tastier in Vail or Aspen, but Mammoth had location going for it. Just over an hour’s flight from L.A., Vegas and S.F., Mammoth was like celebrities’ backyard snow playground.
If we drove we could get there in about four and a half hours.
“What do you think?” I asked, speaking out loud to Ana’s sleeping form. No response.
There was a storm coming, a big enough one that even I’d heard people talking about it. Keeping up on the weather wasn’t really my thing, but when the forecast predicted a days-long torrential storm pounding the state with rain and blanketing the mountains in snow, it even got on Ash Black’s radar. Drought-stricken California needed rain and snow, everyone knew that, and this storm was supposed to deliver and then some. And it was due to start later on today.
I had to make a call. Ana wasn’t in any shape to make it with me. She’d said something about flying back to New York, but come on now. What we’d had in Paris had been real. We needed a few more days together like that out of the spotlight.
If we headed up to Mammoth we could tuck ourselves away in the cabin. I knew none of the guys were headed there. They’d planned to stay on in Vegas for a couple of days, keep the party going. Ana and I would be snowed in. I’d have her all to myself for days on end.
Driving in a snowstorm was harder than I’d remembered. Actu
The flakes were accumulating heavy and fast. When we’d left Vegas four hours earlier in the dead of night, the road had been flat and dry and stretched out in front of us endlessly.
I say us because Ana was with me, but she hadn’t exactly been awake for any of it. She was passed out so cold a couple of times I’d checked to make sure she was breathing. And she always was, slow and steady, just sleeping the sleep of the dead.
And sleep on she still did, slumped against the door of the car, unaware of the storm brewing around her. Unaware that I’d kidnapped her.
Technically speaking, of course. Kidnapping was an inflammatory term. But, technically, it applied to this situation. She’d told me she planned to go to New York. I’d lifted her up in a dead sleep, carried her down in an elevator passed out on my shoulder, and laid her down in the rental SUV without her becoming any the wiser. This girl could sleep. She must have been drunk when we’d spoken earlier. The party had been crowded and loud and I’d barely been able to hear her speaking. She must have been wasted and I just hadn’t noticed.
I’d tucked her in nicely, setting her up with a pillow and a blanket from the hotel. They’d charge my account and probably consider themselves lucky that I hadn’t ripped a sink out of the wall like last time. Actually, that had been Connor, but the two of us tended to get lumped together.
He wasn’t such a bad guy, really. Look how he’d been taking care of Ana. And he’d had a hard time of it growing up, getting bullied so bad when I’d first met him in boarding school he’d always had a cut or a bruise or both marking up his face. He’d been a shrimpy little Irish scholarship kid, and didn’t all those aristocratic British brats let him know it. Now I knew he took things too far, always over the top, but the world loved him for it. Could you blame him?
I hoped one day he and Ana could get on better. I know he’d hit on her, but that was his way. There wasn’t a woman alive he wouldn’t hit on. It was like sleeping, eating and breathing for him. And Ana, well, she’d tempt a monk.
Even looking at her sleeping there in the car, so innocent, she made my thoughts turn nasty. Once we made it to the cabin, I’d have her all to myself. No one else there, nothing to interrupt us, distract us. We could get lost in each other the way I knew we were meant to do.
But maybe I should say if we made it to the cabin. The towering pines, the ridges surrounding us, we were deep in the Sierra Nevada mountain range and it was gorgeous but I had to slow down to about thirty miles an hour. I’d rented a powerful SUV, but snowplows hadn’t had a chance to get up to this stretch of road yet and the powder was accumulating, fast.
I felt proud of myself that I’d remembered to call ahead and talk to the caretaker of the Mammoth property. Such planning from seat-of-his-pants rocker Ash Black. I’d even been surprised to find his number in my phone under Mammoth Cabin. I had people to handle those kinds of arrangements. But not when I stole away in the dead of night trying to avoid all discovery. Then, I needed to make the call myself.
If the caretaker had been surprised at a call from Ash Black at four in the morning on New Year’s Day, he hadn’t shown it. I didn’t know how much we paid him, but apparently it was enough that when I woke him up in the middle of the night and told him I’d be arriving at the cabin in a few hours he said, “No problem.” The cabin would be clean, lit and heated upon our arrival. He’d even make sure the fridge and pantry were stocked and we had enough firewood to last us days.
“You know there’s a big storm coming today?” he had warned. I’d brushed it off.
Now I saw why he’d warned me. The last 30 minutes of the drive would take at least an hour in these conditions, and that was if we didn’t skid off and slam straight into a tree trunk. I could see the headlines, “Ash Black Crashes Out!” Only it wouldn’t just be me, it would be Ana, and I wanted to keep her safe.
I hoped she’d feel safe when she finally woke up. I wanted her to feel cherished and protected. Because once we got there, we weren’t going anywhere. The snow was supposed to fall and keep on falling for another couple of days. We’d be snowbound, trapped, cut off from the rest of the world.
Exactly how I wanted it.
My need for her built with each passing day. Every time I tasted her, I craved more. Each sigh, moan, gasp from her lips teased me, suggesting such a treasure trove of erotic pleasures. She was a sensual woman, but up until me she’d never indulged. As far as I could tell, she’d only had one serious sexual partner before, and he sounded about one step removed from the living dead. I wasn’t sure she’d ever had an orgasm with the man. Good thing, too, because if she had I would have had to find him and sock him in the jaw.
As it was, it sounded like I didn’t have much to be jealous about. When I touched her she seemed so surprised, shocked and thrilled about how good it felt. I felt that way, too. And we’d only just begun.
In Paris we’d fallen into each other, the way ravenous beasts fell on a meal after days of starvation. We’d burned for each other and then combusted, joining together with fierce passion. But we’d never taken it slow. We’d never really played.
Ana had a body built for sinful pleasures. I had a mind filled with plans. When she woke up, she’d feel confused and disoriented. Maybe she’d be angry at me. She’d definitely have one hell of a hangover.
But I’d do everything I could to smooth things over. The cabin would help with that. Lofted ceilings with giant, rugged beams, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the mountain range and lake below, a massive stone fireplace, the romantic setting would serve as my wingman. I’d have a fire crackling in the fireplace. I’d make sure she took some Advil and drank water. I’d make her tea with honey and lemon and toast or whatever else she needed to get back into fighting form. Because she was going to get a workout.
She could yell at me all she wanted. She could tell me off, pissed that I’d taken her without her consent. She could pound her fists against my chest, angry at me for trapping her.
But, ultimately, she’d be trapped. Snowed in with me. And I needed to consume her, possess every inch. I wouldn’t stop until I’d had her in every way I’d craved in all of my fantasies.
She might fight me at first, but then there’d be a shift. She’d have her fist against me, but then her fingers would unfurl and she’d clutch my chest. Her yell would cut off into a moan as I sucked down hard on her nipple. I could almost taste it, that moment when her protests sank into sighs, when she melted into my touch, parting her legs to give me access to her sweet, succulent core.
That’s when I’d have her. And then I wouldn’t stop, as long as the snow came down, as long as he roads stayed blocked. I’d have her right where I wanted her.
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Callie Harper, Undone, Volume 2
CALLIE HARPER SERIES:
Other author's books:
- Undone, Volume 1All of Me: Liam & SophieAll I Need: Ian & AnnieUndone, Volume 3Unleashed: Volume 2 (Unleashed #2)Unleashed: Declan & Kara (Unleashed #1-4; Beg for It #1)Unleashed: Volume 1 (Unleashed #1)Undone: A Fake Fiancé Rockstar Romance
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