HIM—A Stepbrother Romance: With BONUS NOVELLA: PERSONAL (10 page)

Chapter Eighteen

Kate

“I’m telling you, Kate. Ever since you’ve landed early this morning, you’ve had this glow about you. And I know this glow. What are you not telling me?”

“Hmmmm?” I tilted my chin and made eye contact with her giving her my best poker face. “There’s no glow. I already told you, I went shopping with my mom in New York is all. You know she obsesses over skincare and cosmetics. She may have gone overboard. But my skin is thanking her.”

It had been torture having to come back to Capetown but I had to. My defense required me in two days. I had just sent my paper off and felt like the weight of the world lifted off of my shoulders. Now I was ever aware of missing him and that giant hole in my heart reminded me every waking second. That awful tease of almost having him completely and then not.

From the moment we made it back to the city, my mother was waiting for me and Bradley, and I had to attend meeting after meeting after meeting. And just like that, two days had passed. He texted messages ranging from the sweet range to the spicy range.

Promise I’m going to make you come real soon. Just you wait. Your pussy hasn’t seen anything yet.

Get ready. You’ll be coming before you know it.

Send me a pic of you naked.

I want to taste you again. It’s all I want to eat
.

I can’t stop thinking about you, baby. Promise I’m coming for you.

I looked over his dirty texts a thousand times while on the airplane. These little fantasies kept my light lit. I didn’t know when we’d see each other again, but I trusted him that we would.

“Tell me again, like, this whole process thing?” Emily twirled her sun kissed locks around her finger.

“Huh?”

Her eyes went wide. She shook her head frantically and stood up pointing behind me at the television. It was such an urgent look. Was a tsunami or something coming our way or something? I spun around and knocked my coffee to the ground.

Bradley Rainshaw, billionaire heir, new CEO of Rainshaw enterprise amid police scandal.

“Oh my word.” I reached for the remote and flipped it on.

“But will you press charges against Officer Watson?”

“Hell yeah, I will. I’m not a pushover or a coward. I just want to make things right. Justice is about doing the right thing. Integrity is who you are when no one is looking. Officer Watson is a coward, bully, and ought to be held accountable for his actions. He not only detained me and refused me a phone call, but cameras will indicate his ridiculous power trip. Why, he imprisoned an innocent young woman in the middle of a blizzard without even a blanket. For no reason! A kind woman, who I might add is as good of a citizen as a nun!”

“Her name? Bradley?”

“Kate Meadows.”

Oh my god. The world just heard my name.

“And how about you? Will you be held accountable for your father’s actions? For the sins of your father?”

“We will just have to wait and see.” Sometimes God is merciful.

              I pressed the rewind button to listen to the entire interview.

             
Earlier today.
The words were in red in the top right corner.

As I scrolled the news segment back with the replay option on the remote in stunned silence of what I just heard Bradley admit, I couldn’t shake the eerie feeling of those cold cuffs on my wrists. It fell over me like a hushed dazed. I felt hopeless, helpless, cold and alone.  I’d never experienced anything like that before. I hated the way that moment made me feel. I shivered and released the creepy feeling that traveled down my spine. Lost in thought, I jumped in fright from Emily’s hand on my shoulder. I still was a bit jumpy from the traumatic moment and being locked in a jail cell, even if it was just for a few hours. It was torturous seeing someone you care about look frozen over and dead. It was cold, freezing, dark.

“Um, Kate?”

“Yeah?”

“Someone’s here to see you.”

“Huh?” I asked, still dazed.

“Bradley’s, um, here.”

“What? How?”

I spun around and there he stood in the doorway dressed in form-fitting jeans and a fitted gray shirt. Damn, he looked hot.

“Oh my gosh, I knew it. You are a secret agent,” Emily cooed at him.

“I’m no CIA special ops I can assure you. But one thing I cannot assure you is my safety. I have to close down a few camps and operations and well, a few people aren’t happy about it. I have about oh, uh, four minutes and thirty-three seconds to grab you and jet. That’s about it”

“Are…are you serious? Is it that dire? Here?” When would this never ending panic end?

“Oh, yes. One word. Militia. Next word: rebels. Third word: diamonds.” He walked into the living room and pulled me in his arms. He smelled so fresh, like a manly version of verbena. I wanted to breathe him in deeply.

“Jet? Jet where? I can’t like leave—”

“No…no where far.” He cut me off quickly.

“Fourth word: four minutes left. Go, go, go, go! The two of you now!” Emily sang the same time Bradley replied
no where far
.

“Seriously? This is happening? For real?” I stood there frozen, unsure what to do.

His look was panicked. “I came for you. Just like I said.”

“Yeah, but you were just on the—” I pointed to the T.V.

“Kate! You heard him! Just grab your laptop and grab—”

“Nothing.” His hands were on my shoulders and he was leading me out of the living room. “I have everything taken care of for you, just take your holy grail right there.” He pointed to my computer and charger. “And put these on and lift this over your head.” He reached for my nearby flats and light jacket that hung over a chair.

“But where? My defense!” I called out.

“Bye Kate!” Emily’s goodbye was muffled by the door.

And just like that I was out of my apartment, feeling endangered, adrenaline, wonder, fright, and doom all at once. But the most prevalent feeling of them all was elation. We were together again and his hand was in mine.

But suddenly, the adrenaline wore off and I snapped back into reality and out of the James Bond film that was running through my head once the driver had us a few blocks from my apartment.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” I looked out the window to see if anyone was following us.

“What?”

“Can you really be killed right now? I mean, can someone be angry enough with you right now that we are in that grave of danger?”

“My life has always been in danger. People always want to kill me.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yes.”

“Am I safe?” My voice trembled.

“Of course.”

And then I saw the look in his eyes. Something wasn’t right. “Are you…?”

“Stealing you away for some fun and games? Yes. Do I have to make a few business decisions and make a few meetings to personally close down a few misunderstandings in person, yes. And do I have a gala in Paris at the end of all of this to attend, which your mother and my sister are attending as well? Why, yes. But do I want you to be there with me by my side, dressed in a gorgeous gold Givenchy gown I’ve already personally picked out for you? Well, yes.”

By my side.

I’d have to revisit that but right now, a more important life and death situation was thrown my way. Panic surged through me about his life in danger,
again
.

“So, you’re not about to have a bomb thrown behind you in like one minute if we had waited at my apartment for ten minutes longer?”

“No. Sorry, babe….but it was the only way to get you to come with me.” He sheepishly grinned and placed his hand on my knee. But I wasn’t falling for his charm. In fact, I was downright angry. He just didn’t get it.

“This isn’t a game to me, Bradley! School means everything to me.” His soft, easy-breezy face glazed over and stiffened a bit. God, those eyes. I couldn’t resist him. His lips were on my neck, trailing down to my collarbone and I could barely breathe.

“I can’t. I have this really important oral defense. I thought you knew that?”

“I can let you have an oral defense again all you want. In fact, just the thought of it…feel.” He pulled my hand over him.

I gulped, as my own bubbling desire grew inside. Heat flooded between my legs instantly.

Oh God, I couldn’t breathe when he talked like that while his tongue trailed up my neck and along my collar bone with his sweet kisses.

“I thought you just had to turn in your paper.”

“That’s step one. Step two is the defending it in front of the panel.” I whined.

His warm touch trailed up my arm. “Can’t you please just see if you can Skype your session? You’ve been through a lot this past week. You’ve been imprisoned. Surely they’ll understand if you tell them you need to go somewhere special to get checked in for anxiety or something.”

I retracted my hand like a child touching a hot stove. “I…I can’t lie.”

“Oh, come on, Kate. Live a little. I promise I’ll make the time worthwhile. And didn’t I promise you one thing?”

“What?”

“That I would be inside of you.” His hot whisper covered my ear. Chills cooled my heated body; I wanted that so bad.

I blushed and hushed him. “The driver!”

“I love how tightly wad your panties are. He can’t hear anything. Come on, aren’t you just a wee tad bit curious as to where I am whisking you away to? A little?”

The little princess in me wanted to know. She jumped up and down with the patience of a three year old. I had never been
whisked
away before.

His hand slid up my thigh and all I could think about was him being between my legs again.

As if on the same wavelength, his hand dipped between my legs and peeked into my shorts softly swiping over my satin panties. I sucked in a quick breath, surprised and incredibly turned on to his expert touch.

“To Maldives. Private charter. You. Me. Aqua waters. Days. You. Me. In you. For days.” His searing kisses trailed down my neck again and I couldn’t breathe when he did that, more or less think! His fingers continued to lightly swipe over my thin fabric. I was swelling in need for him to touch me more by the ever growing millisecond. And the truth was, because of him, or should I say lack of him near me, I was having a hell of a hard time practicing my speech because of my focus. It was pure hell trying to focus and seeing my words: ORAL DEFENSE sticky notes every where in my apartment. Every time I saw the word, “oral”, I thought of him between my legs. Me in the shower on my knees.

Our unfinished business of sealing the deal. I mean, the lid was finally off of the matter of us. There was no turning back now.

The passion.

The heat.

All the anger that was bent up in my heart, transmuted into pure fiery hunger that was in eager need of satiating. I was like a hungry animal that hadn’t eaten in weeks. Nothing else mattered but food.

Never in my life had I felt such a need to be filled.

It was like fire ants crawling all over my body, but congregating mostly in my panties. It was passion so intense it burned.

Maybe we could just get it over with here in this limo and then I can go back and turn the car around so I can show up for my defense.
I reasoned quickly to myself. After all, this was all happening way too fast.

He was taking me away for days?

“Where we can get to know each other and make up for lost time. Endless pleasure.” His sexy voice rumbled in my ears.

My head spun. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t breathe. The way he made me so drunk in reasoning under his spell.

Think. Think. Think. Say something, Kate, fast! You can’t fly off and forget your responsibility.
My logic called out to me but its decibel was as loud as a church mouse. My lust was winning, roaring like a lion in a cave. Amplified.

“The best wine. A private five Michelin star chef.”

Oh my God, that alone sounded amazing. I was a sucker for good food.

His slow fingers trailed over my panties. His touch sending shivers up and down my body as heat soared and my pussy pounded, demanding more attention than my brain and logic.

“The most beautiful beaches. Our naked bodies, contorted in every which way position possibly imagined.”

The tempting scenes flashed through my mind like the sweetest bait.

It was him.

The boy who plastered my walls when I was a teenage love-struck fan.

Him.

The boy who became my stepbrother and roamed the halls of the Rainshaw mansion in his hundred dollar designer underwear, giving me a full on commercial tease of his package.

Him.

Everyone woman in America wanted.

The man who confessed to me in the cigar room his love for me.

There was one thing I needed to do. Call my advising professor. It was time to fake an anxiety crisis and pitch the proposition of Skyping my defense.