Adrift, page 18
But she still would. How could she not? “Thank you.”
“Of course. And as a reminder, we caution you not to give any specifics about what is happening to anyone until the suspect is located and arrested.”
“I understand.”
Ending the call, she set her phone on the bathroom counter and turned on the shower in the guest suite full blast.
I’ll fucking destroy you.
Standing under the hot spray, Becca put a hand to her stomach to quell the tight, burning sensation there, but it did no good. Rick’s response kept rolling around in her brain no matter how hard she tried to focus on the positive.
There was a ray of hope in all of this, however. If the FBI and Chase were right, Rick wouldn’t risk leaking the photos or videos, because it would make him vulnerable and easier to locate.
But Becca also knew him. Knew what kind of monster he was. And it would be just like Rick to go scorched earth simply to try and destroy her and her mother’s lives in revenge.
The thought of having those sordid images flooded all over social media and the tabloids twisted her insides. But as hard and appalling as that would be, her mother was right. The shame wouldn’t kill her.
Becca would weather the storm, do what she could to mitigate the fallout and continue her career—provided people in Hollywood were still willing to hire her. It could go either way. Some people would be totally put off by the scandal, and others would be even more interested in her because of it.
She just prayed it wouldn’t kill her mom.
Becca finished her shower, pulled on the shorts and tank top PJs she’d brought, then dried her hair and brushed her teeth, trying to think of a way to deal with all this from a PR perspective once the story eventually broke. And it would.
She shot off some quick texts to her agent and assistant, telling them she was involved with an FBI investigation. That she couldn’t give them details yet, but would as soon as she was able. But that they needed to be ready to mitigate any potential damage to her image and career from the possible fallout.
When she stepped out into the bedroom a minute later, Chase stood there in jeans and nothing else. Her mind went blank for a moment, her gaze sticking to his bare, sculpted torso, all the hard planes and hollows she hadn’t been able to enjoy properly their first time together now on full display.
“How you doing?” he asked, biceps bulging as he ran a hand through his damp, golden-brown hair.
Lord, he was sexy. “All right, I guess.” Glad to have him here. “Mom went to bed, I’m guessing?” Her mom’s room was on the opposite side of the house, giving them at least a little privacy.
“Few minutes ago.” His eyes darkened as they raked over the length of her, sending heat rushing between her legs and making her nipples tighten beneath the thin cotton.
She shut the door and crossed to him, drawn there by an irresistible force. He took her chin in his hand, searching her eyes, then lowered his head and covered her mouth with his. Slow. Tender.
Becca leaned into his hard, warm body and looped her arms around his neck. The kiss ended far too soon, his lips moving to her jaw. His hands closed around her hips, turned her, then drew her back against his chest. She sighed at the feel of his warmth covering her back, her body revving at the rigid press of his erection against her rear.
He dropped his whisker-roughened chin to her shoulder, his nose grazing the side of her neck, lips rubbing over a spot that sent a rush of goosebumps over her. A velvet caress of his lips, then the warm stroke of his tongue made her bite her lip and come up on her toes, her nipples tight and aching where they pressed against her top.
His right hand slid under the edge of her tank, fingertips caressing the thin strip of skin he’d exposed. She started to turn but he stopped her with a firm grip on her hip. “Stay still,” he whispered against the side of her neck, his strong hand and powerful body holding her in place.
She stilled, all but melting into him while his mouth explored her neck, sliding over each sensitive spot where it curved into her shoulder. His fingers drifted up and down, moving a bit farther each time, sensitizing each inch of skin from the bottom of her ribcage to the edge of her waistband.
“You smell good,” he groaned, scraping his teeth against the edge of her neck. “And feel even better.”
She pressed into his hands, wanting more, her heart racing. He was huge and hard behind her, and she wanted all of him.
His mouth moved across her nape to the other side of her neck, his fingers sliding from beneath her top to graze along the soft fabric covering the valley between her breasts. She caught her breath, held it, aching for his touch and loving this slow, erotic buildup.
He traced the curve of each breast, avoiding the nipples until she was squirming in his hold. “Still,” he repeated, pulling her harder against him.
She closed her eyes and dropped her head back against his shoulder, earning a low hum of approval from him. The fingertips of his right hand danced across one straining nipple.
She gasped and arched into his hand, needing more. He repeated the motion, stroking across the soft, thin cotton, sending streaks of fire shooting to the building throb between her thighs.
When he finally grasped her nipple and twisted slightly, a whimper rolled from her throat. She reached for the bottom of her tank, impatiently pulled it up, over her head, needing his hands on her bare skin.
Chase growled deep in his chest as her naked breasts spilled into his palms. He cupped her, squeezed and kneaded, then grasped her nipples and squeezed. Oh, God, she wanted his mouth there. His tongue.
But when she tried to turn again, he stopped her yet again, one hand releasing her breast to glide down her belly, those long, talented fingers brushing the edge of her covered sex on the way to her bare thigh. She swallowed, breathing fast, her muscles tensing. The slow build was incredible, but if he didn’t touch her there soon, she would—
He drew his fingers up the inside of her thigh, moving inward to glide over her center. She sucked in a breath and rolled her hips, pleasure rippling through her.
Up, up, his fingertips moved, pausing over her throbbing clit for a heartbeat before sliding beneath her waistband. Becca dropped her chin and looked down, the sight of his hand sliding into her shorts so intensely erotic. His big palm cupped her sex, and her eyes fell closed, a high-pitched sound of need coming from her.
“Oh, sweetness,” he murmured, his mouth finding just the right spot on her neck as his fingers delved between her slick, swollen folds. “You’re so hot and wet.”
She couldn’t answer, struggling to breathe as he stroked, his fingers settling deep in her folds before drawing upward to cradle her clit between them. He added pressure and slid up and down in tiny movements without giving her the direct contact she needed.
“Chase,” she whispered, quivering all over.
His hands pulled free of her shorts and released her breast. She opened her mouth to protest, to beg him not to stop, but he was already turning her, his mouth finding hers as he guided her backward to the bed. He stretched her out on it and tugged her shorts off, the breath catching in her throat as he dropped to his knees at the foot of the bed and grasped her knees.
That hot, hazel gaze locked with hers for an instant, then dipped down between her legs as he pushed them apart slowly. She bit her lip, one hand flying out to grab his muscled shoulder, her entire body pulsing with anticipation.
Chase made a low sound and kissed the top of her mound, then opened his mouth and settled his tongue against her sensitive flesh. She hissed and gripped the sheets with her free hand, holding on tight as sensation lashed her.
Soft, warm caresses over each slick fold. Then a tantalizing swirl around the swollen bud of her clit that had her hips lifting, needy sounds coming from her parted lips.
Fire streaked through her as he licked, stroked, then his lips closed around her most sensitive spot. He sucked her clit tenderly, his tongue flicking while he pushed a finger into her and rubbed just the right spot…
She muffled her cry, release building fast, building low in her gut.
He stopped.
Her eyes flew open. His lips curved in a knowing smile, then, watching her, he dipped back down to give her a slow swirl with his tongue, his finger stroking the most perfect spot inside her.
“Oh, God, Chase…”
He stopped again but came down on top of her, capturing her whimper with his mouth. She gripped his hair and kissed him back, shaking with need.
His tongue caressed hers. His whole body stroking her. Greedily she ran her hands over him, every place she could reach while her heart tried to pound its way out of her chest.
She was dizzy and breathless when he finally raised up, stripped his jeans off and came back up with a condom. She sat up, reaching for the thick erection standing proudly against his lower belly. The second her fingers closed around him he groaned, pausing a moment to close his eyes and thrust into her hands.
Before she could complete another stroke, she was flat on her back, with more than two-hundred pounds of aroused male on top of her. He grabbed her hips, slid his hands down her thighs to hook behind her knees and draw her legs over his bunched shoulders as he leaned over her, his eyes blazing.
Pressure and heat licked over her slick folds, glided along the edge of her sensitive clit. She gasped, closed her hands over his shoulders and groaned into his mouth as he eased inside her.
He dropped a hand to her belly, slid it between their bodies to find her clit, skimmed it while he surged forward. A desperate sound came from her. His kiss stopped it, his mouth capturing every mewl and cry as his hips moved.
It was unlike anything she’d felt before, his intensity totally different from anyone else she’d been with.
He didn’t thrust or plunge. He rocked, each motion of his hips a slow, deliberate stroking, the position ensuring his cock glided along the hidden source of pleasure inside her. Combined with the caress of his slick fingers over her clit, he had her panting and writhing within seconds.
She twisted in his hold, the position and his weight all but immobilizing her, sending a dark thrill through her even as the incredible pleasure rose. He increased it slowly, refusing to be rushed, his tongue making love to her mouth as he did the same to her body.
“More,” he whispered against her lips. “Give me more. I want all of you.”
He had a lot more of her than he realized, and it should have scared her, but she was beyond the ability to think. The orgasm built higher and higher, ecstasy flooding her in an unstoppable, rising tide until she was a writhing mass of need in his arms.
Each stroke of his hips and fingers took her closer to the edge. She clung to him, helpless in the throes of what he was doing to her. When it finally hit, the world dissolved around her. A sob came out of her, instantly absorbed by his deep kiss as the pleasure ripped through her, shattering.
She bucked in his hold, her body riding it out, greedily stealing every bit of pleasure.
Chase groaned into her mouth, mingled satisfaction and need, and kept rolling his hips in that same slow, devastating motion until his control frayed. He plunged deep and held there. Then he stiffened, his breath halting for an instant. His big body went rigid, a deep, anguished moan rolled from him as he shuddered, buried inside her.
Becca struggled to catch her breath, awareness returning slowly, becoming conscious of the ache in her legs and lower back. She stroked Chase’s hair, kissed his damp temple, his stubble-roughened cheek, sighed as he finally eased up and slid her legs from his wide, muscular shoulders.
He stretched out on his back and pulled her on top of him with a low groan. “Oh, yeah,” he murmured, one hand squeezing her naked butt while he wrapped an arm around her and buried his other hand in her hair. “So good, sweetness. Don’t ever move from there.”
She couldn’t right now even if she’d wanted to. He’d liquefied her bones and muscles. She lay draped over him like a living blanket, her body sated and warm, head pillowed in the hollow of his shoulder. But then reality came flooding back, reminding her of all the bad things she had to face in a few more hours.
With effort, she pushed them away and snuggled into Chase, her heart squeezing at the way his arms tightened around her. Holding her hard and close, as if he never wanted to let her go.
She wished he didn’t have to. But that was reality, and it was rushing toward them both, whether they wanted it or not.
A distinctive ringtone went off across the room. Her assistant calling her.
“Don’t answer it,” Chase murmured, his arms tightening more.
“It’s Kim, I have to.” Her assistant wouldn’t call in the middle of the night unless it was urgent.
She regretfully peeled herself off of Chase’s fine body and hurried over to answer her phone. “Kim. What’s wrong?”
“Sorry, I know it’s after two where you are, but I was worried after I got your texts, and then I found out…”
Her heart beat faster. “Kim. Just tell me.”
“Someone just leaked some photos. Really bad ones. Of you and some…guys.”
Becca blanched, the bottom of her stomach dropping out.
No. Not pictures of her. Her mother.
Not that the media would realize the difference. Which was surely what Rick had wanted.
“That fucking son of a bitch,” she snarled, her entire body rigid, fingers clenching around the phone.
Rage pulsed through her, along with a wave of despair. She didn’t move, couldn’t speak as Chase stepped up beside her and set a protective hand on her waist.
“What do you want me to do?” Kim asked, sounding on the verge of tears.
She set her jaw, fire burning in her gut. She couldn’t give specifics about the case or Rick yet, but she wasn’t going to sit back and let him torpedo her career while she waited for the FBI to track him down. “Damage control.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Protective custody?” Becca wrapped her arms around herself, frowning at the Special Agent in Charge, a man in his late-forties. He and two other FBI agents had shown up at the door exactly at seven, and had immediately taken Becca into her mom’s small art studio to talk to her alone.
She’d told them everything. Every awful and sordid detail right from the beginning until now.
Shame crawled through her, yet there was a sense of relief too. Relief that everything was out in the open now, and that something was being done to punish Rick for what he’d put her and her mom through all these years. But she wasn’t sure she liked the sound of protective custody.
The agent pushed his glasses up higher on the bridge of his nose, nodding. “For your safety until we can apprehend Rick. We’re already following up leads on him now, and once we have a definite location, we’ll act immediately to bring him in. So in all likelihood it shouldn’t be more than a few days at the most.”
She didn’t love the idea of being separated from her mom or Chase right now. Telling her mom about what had happened had been awful. Her mom was fragile right now, and even with the staff here to watch her, Becca was scared about what she might do.
As for Chase… She didn’t want to leave him for other reasons.
“What would it entail?” she asked.
“We would escort you to a safehouse we select, and agents would be placed with you around the clock for your protection.”
“Could I bring my mom and Chase?”
“I’m sorry, no. Just you.”
She chewed the inside of her lip, debating it. “And if I choose not to do protective custody?”
“Then you’ll have police protection until we can get a team put together, and provide perimeter security. But given your status and the seriousness of the threat facing you, I would strongly urge you to consider the first option.”
His tone sent a shiver of foreboding through her. Maybe she should consider his offer. “I’ll think about it and let you know by noon.”
****
Chase ran a critical eye over Becca after the FBI agents left. She was pale, with shadows beneath her eyes, and little wonder. She and her team had been up most of the night scrambling to try to get ahead of or at least counteract the furor the leaked pictures had caused.
But the pictures were everywhere already, and the stories circulating about her were ugly and vicious. It was heartbreaking to watch Becca go through it, and to watch Sofia’s reaction when Becca had told her.
Chase wanted Rick to be thrown into a dark cell and left to rot for the rest of his life.
Becca’s lawyer had already issued a strong statement to the media that the images weren’t of her, but rather someone who looked a lot like her. That the hairstyles and photograph quality proved they were taken years and years ago. Meanwhile, her agent and assistant were leaking other photos of her supposedly taken back in LA in the last day or two.
“You need to get some sleep, sweetness,” he murmured, pulling her into his side where they sat on the lounger on the verandah. They’d gone to sleep at about oh-four-hundred, and she’d woken up multiple times after that.
She nodded, her gaze distant as she looked out over the ebb and flow of the waves onto the white sand beach before them. She’d been quiet since the agents left. Too quiet.
He kissed the top of her head, his heart heavy, wishing he could make this all go away somehow. Almost as soon as that bastard had released some explicit pictures to a trash media site, the story had quickly gone viral.
Sofia was currently inside lying down, and Becca was worried sick about her—as well as being rightfully anxious about helping the FBI to locate Rick. Him being involved in sex trafficking had bumped the urgency of capturing him up the priority list.
As of right now, they didn’t have a current location on him, and Becca’s insight was critical to draw him out quickly from whatever rock he was currently hiding beneath. Arresting him quickly might mean saving other young women from winding up sold into slavery.
