How could I have been so stupid?
The realization the men outside might have taken pictures of her and Terrence left a bad taste in her throat. It felt similar to the feeling and taste she’d experience right before she threw up. She probably wouldn’t throw up though. Not with the amount of rage pulsing through her veins.
“I’m going to go out there and kick their asses,” she said.
“Ronnie.” Terrence held out a hand. “Sit back down please.”
She slapped his hand away. “No. And after I kick all their asses, I’m going to smash every camera they have.”
“Ronnie.”
“Then I’ll dump all the pieces into the ocean.” She finished with a self-satisfied nod. Yes, that was exactly what she was going to do. She raised an eyebrow at Terrence. How was it possible for him to remain so calm? “Are you coming with me?”
He didn’t answer her question but stood and walked to stand in front of her. She had to look up at him in that position, and she didn’t like it one bit. “Don’t loom over me.”
“I’m not looming. I’m standing. It’s not my fault you’re short.”
“It feels like you’re looming,” she said. “Are you coming with me? Two against four is better than one.”
He placed a hand on her shoulder. “I think we should sit down and discuss this rationally before doing something we’ll regret later.”
“Of course you think that.” She shoved his hand off her. “You’re a guy.”
“What the hell does that have to do with anything?”
She took a step back. Looking up at him the way she had been put a crick in her neck. “It has everything to do with everything. When a picture is taken showing a man and a woman having sex against a window, what’s said about the woman?” She didn’t wait for him to reply. “What a whore!”
He shook his head and opened his mouth, but she held her hand up. “No. Don’t try to tell me that’s not how it is. It’s exactly what’s said about a woman. But what’s said about the man? Does he get called a man whore? Maybe, but it’s said with a laugh and a smile that translates to he has a dick, what else do you expect? And then he’ll be labeled a playboy and nothing else will be said.”
For several long seconds, they stood like that until Terrence finally sighed. “I understand what you’re saying, and I’m not going to disagree with you, but I still believe we need to think this through before doing anything.”
She knew he was right. It was never a good idea to run into a potentially bad situation unprepared. She was just so… mad. But she took a deep breath and nodded.
“Thank you,” Terrence said. “First of all, please believe me when I say I don’t think they were outside last night. It’s a two-and-a-half-hour direct flight to Portland from LA, which is where most of these bastards are from. The timing wouldn’t fit.”
That made sense and left her feeling a little less ragey. “Okay.”
“Secondly, I’m not sure who they think is here. It might not even be us.”
“True,” she said. “But I think we should operate with the assumption being they do know it’s us.”
He thought for a moment. “Yes, you’re right. That’s what we’ll do.”
His approval wasn’t what she expected, and she was oddly pleased he’d agreed with her. She looked at where his hand rested on his knee with his fingers lightly tapping the denim material. Her cheeks heated as she recalled memories from the night before. Even though they’d been talking about it, she hadn’t thought about the actual act. Was one of the fingers absentmindedly patting away one of the ones he’d put inside her? Or, perhaps, one that sent her climax soaring as it swept over her clit? And was it just last night? Between the crazy dream and discovering the men outside, sex with Terrence felt like days ago.
“I don’t know what you’re thinking,” he said in a low, raspy voice. “But you better get your mind on something else before I’m tempted to take you again and not give a fuck who’s watching.”
“Am I that easy to read?” she asked. “I’ve always thought I had a pretty good poker face.”
“You’re that easy to read when it comes to sex,” he said, moving a bit closer. “And I don’t know about the regular kind, but you’d definitely lose at strip poker every damn time.”
The image of the two of them playing cards, with him dressed and her totally naked, shouldn’t have turned her on the way it did. Not with four strange men who were more than likely paparazzi waiting outside, but it did anyway. It did a lot. A fact not lost on Terrence.
He groaned as if she’d touched him. “Holy fuck, woman, what you do to me. Hold that thought until we get somewhere we’re certain is 100 percent private.” He lowered his voice. “And I’ll make it happen.”
She didn’t even bother asking how he knew what she was thinking. She only smiled. “You better.”
Before she took her next breath, she was in his arms and he covered her lips with his.
If she’d expected the night before to have taken the edge off whatever it was between them, it wasn’t reflected in their kiss. He appeared just as ravenous for her as she was for him. She actually thought the need between them felt more intense, even as she realized that didn’t make sense. Everything they’d done the night before should have cooled things down between them. Not turned up the heat.
“I warned you.” He spoke against her lips while his hands slipped under her shirt. The warmth of his fingertips electrified her skin. “I don’t care who’s outside. I don’t care what they want. They can’t hear us, and they certainly can’t see us.”
“Only because the shade’s down,” she said, reaching for the waistband of his pants. From what she saw moments ago, all she would find underneath the soft cotton was 100 percent Terrence.
“Fortunately for us, this isn’t the window you checked after your dream. Up,” he said, tugging her arms, and she lifted them so he could pull the shirt over her head. He froze as the shirt fell to the floor, his eyes glued to her chest.
“Something wrong?” She cupped her breasts and gave him a sultry smile. “I didn’t put a bra on before going up to check the window, and when I came back down, I decided I didn’t want to wear one.” She flicked her thumbs over her nipples to make them peak. “Nasty things, bras. Sometimes the girls just want to be free, you know?”
He moved his gaze from her chest to her face, and she gasped at the heat and need visible in his expression. “The only thing I know at the moment is that I’m going to fuck your tits.”
“Now?” she asked. It was what she wanted, but she also enjoyed playing a little hard to get.
“Yes, now. Why wait?” He pointed to the bed. “On your back. I’m going to fuck those tits, and then I’ll come on your face.”
A small ball of warmth rooted itself in the pit of her belly.
His voice was low and seductive. “Do you know why I’m going to come on your face?”
“Because I’m a dirty slut, Sir.”
“Yes,” he said. “Exactly. I’ll be nice and let you know when I’m getting ready to blow so you can close your eyes, but until I do, I want your eyes on me. Understand?”
The ball of warmth had grown, igniting the places on her body and in her mind that craved more of what he’d given her the night before. Maybe given was the wrong word. Taken was probably more accurate, but the truth was it didn’t matter. She just wanted more.
She scooted back onto the bed and watched as he took lotion and pumped a good amount into his hand. The inside of her thighs grew wet at the thought of his hands spreading it over and across her breasts. How he’d probably pinch her nipples while he lubed her up.
He froze in place. “What was that?”
“What was what?”
“That sound.” He remained where he was, as if being still would somehow improve or aid his hearing. “Sounded like something at the front door.”
She hadn’t heard anything before, but she strained her ears trying to hear what he had. Surely the paparazzi weren’t attempting to break into the cottage.
Then she heard it, the sound of metal sliding against wood.
“They have a fucking key?” Terrence asked at the same moment she realized what the sound was.
“How did they get a key?”
“I don’t know.” He wiped the lotion from his hands. “Stay here. I’ll go check it out.”
But she already had her shirt back on. “Like hell I’ll stay here. This is just as much my fight as it is yours.”
He didn’t look thrilled, but he didn’t argue or attempt to persuade her to stay in the bedroom, and she appreciated that. Grabbing his phone from the top of the dresser, he gave her a nod, and they walked together toward the front door.
The closer they got, the clearer it became that his initial assumption had been correct. Someone had a key and was unlocking the door.
They made it to the small foyer right as the front door opened and someone stepped inside. But it wasn’t one of the four men she’d seen outside earlier. In fact, it wasn’t a man at all. It was a petite woman with shoulder length dark hair who appeared to be around Terrence’s age.
“Terrence,” the woman said, her smile warm and friendly. “We should have guessed it was you. We saw the car outside but weren’t sure who it belonged to. Then we saw a man sneak a look from the backyard, and, well, you can probably guess how well that went over. Be a dear and go out and see if he needs help or anything. I’m supposed to make sure everything’s okay inside here, and if I go out there, I’ll distract him.”
“Of course,” Terrence said and disappeared out the front door.
The woman turned her way, and Ronnie was taken in by her delicate beauty. She looked like a fine porcelain doll Ronnie once had as a child. Except for her eyes. The eyes of the woman before her were filled with a light and a joyfulness unlike anything she’d ever seen on anyone before.
“Hello,” the woman said, her smile as friendly and as real as it’d been when she’d spoken to Terrence. “You must be Veronica.”
Veronica felt like an idiot standing in the foyer, dumbstruck, with her mouth open in shock, but seriously, who was this woman who knew her name? “Yes,” she finally got out. “And you are?”
“Oh damn,” the dark-headed woman said. “I never said, did I? I’m sorry.” She held out her hand. “Mariela MacLure. So good to finally meet you and put a face with the name. Thank you for helping the academy out this summer. Andie says you’re invaluable.”
“Thank you,” Veronica said, still feeling half-stunned. “Nice to meet you as well, and no thanks are needed. I’m enjoying the change of pace. But I think Andie’s exaggerating.”
Mariela didn’t reply but rather took a second to look her over. Was it obvious what she and Terrence had done last night or what they had been getting ready to do before they were interrupted?
Fuck. It probably was. Hadn’t Terrence just finished saying how her face reflected everything she thought when it came to sex? Ronnie’s cheeks grew hot, but before she could say anything, the front door opened again and Terrence walked in, followed closely by who she assumed was Lennox.
The older man was dark to Terrence’s light, yet even with his dark hair and eyes, his expression was friendly. Though not as friendly as his wife’s.
“Veronica.” He held out his hand. “Lennox MacLure.”
“It’s nice to meet you.” She shook his hand and then looked at Terrence. “Find out anything?”
Terrence nodded. “Lennox knows them.”
Before she could recover from her shock long enough to ask how that was possible, Lennox shook his head.
“I don’t know them personally,” Lennox explained. “I know who they work for.”
“I thought most paparazzi were freelance?” Ronnie asked.
“They aren’t paparazzi,” Lennox replied. “They’re more local men. From Seattle. I don’t think they’ll be back here anytime soon. Not if they want to keep their jobs. I own the building the company they work for rents.”
Inexplicably, her body processed his words quicker than her brain. She was trembling when he finished speaking.
“Veronica.” Mariela rushed to her side and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Veronica took a deep breath, steeling herself for what she knew was coming and refusing to look at Terrence. “Local?” She directed her question to Lennox. “How long is the drive from Seattle to Portland?”
“About three hours.”
Her stomach dropped to her knees. “And flight time?”
“Just under an hour.” Lennox frowned. “Why do you ask?”
“They could have been here all night,” she said.
“Probably so if the number of cigarette butts is any indication.” Lennox turned to his wife. “Which reminds me, can you grab me a garbage bag? I want to go pick up the ones I can before the wind scatters them. I should have made the four of them stay and do it, but I wanted them off my property more than anything.”
“They would have taken pictures.” She still couldn’t look at Terrence.
“I’m sure they did,” Lennox continued, oblivious to Ronnie’s turmoil. “But unless you were swinging from the light fixtures or having wild monkey sex against the picture window, they wouldn’t be able to take any of you.”
He obviously meant for the statement to be funny, and when it fell flat, he looked from Veronica to Terrence and back again, his face contorting as understanding dawned. “Fuck.”