Page 7 of Forbidden Confessions, Volume 2 (The Forbidden Volumes #1)

Rand

S ophie’s light footsteps alert me that she’s out of the bathroom.

I’ve already ensured the cottage and its perimeter are as safe as possible, then busied myself calling to order groceries from a local shop.

Thankfully, Joe knows the owner since he lives down the street, so he’ll let me pay with cash.

I have to make sure no one can trace me, in case whoever’s after Sophie knows I stand between her and him.

Besides, accomplishing that kept me from thinking about her naked, lush curves wet under the shower spray, touched by nothing but suds and her soft hands.

Not going to lie, busting down the door and kissing her senseless crossed my mind.

At her quiet greeting, I nod absently and launch a search on my phone for restaurants in the area. “Groceries should be ready for pickup in a few hours. You’ve got to be hungry now. I’m starving. How about we call for pizza? We can cook dinner later.” I turn to her. “Does that sound?—”

My words seize up when I lay eyes on her. Suddenly, I can’t speak. I can’t think. Hell, I can’t even breathe. All I can do? Stare.

She crosses her arms to cover her lush breasts and taut nipples. “I know everything is tight and transparent. It was the best I could find since this stuff belongs to a girl.”

“And you’re definitely a woman.” The words slip out as I prowl closer, unable to stop myself. “I don’t mean to be unprofessional. I’m sorry if I’m gawking.”

That’s not all I want to do to Sophie. But I’m riding a dangerous line, imagining all the ways I could make her mine…

and how easily I could overpower her if she tried to resist. The predatory thoughts should bother me, but watching her try to cover herself only makes me want to strip her bare and show her exactly who’s in control.

Unfortunately, I’m here to protect her, not seduce her—no matter how badly I’d like to.

Get real. She’s a famous celebrity dating an equally famous celebrity. Why would she be interested in an average guy like you?

“I’m used to people looking at me.”

Of course she is. “I’ll try not to be annoying.”

“You’re not. And I swear I’m not trying to flash you.”

I bite back the reply that she doesn’t need to try on my account, but that’s inappropriate. “Pizza okay?”

“Sure.”

“After that, we’ll pick up the groceries I ordered.

Then we should be set for a bit. The housekeeper comes tomorrow.

I’ll see if she can get you some clothes then, too.

” I can’t go out and leave Sophie unprotected.

And I’ll have to figure out how to get more cash since I don’t dare hit the ATM.

But I have ideas and resources. I’ll get it done.

“Great. Do you know if there’s a jacket or anything around here so I can cover up?”

That’s a good idea. It might keep me from ogling her. But probably not. “I’ll look. In the meantime, what do you like on your pizza?”

We agree to toppings while I find a kid’s cardigan in gray.

It’s too small, and the edges cling to her breasts, which somehow only accentuates her assets.

But it covers her nipples. Well, kind of.

I also find a pair of flip-flops that almost fit.

At least the ball cap I scrounged up will hide her face when we retrieve groceries later.

Sophie sinks onto the couch and curls into herself. I call for the pizza. They’ll also deliver a two-liter bottle of soda with the pie in the next thirty minutes.

“I’m going to grab a shower before the delivery. The doors and windows are locked, and almost no one knows we’re here. You should be safe, but if anything happens, come get me.”

She nods. “Thanks.”

I hate leaving her alone, but this is the best opportunity to clean up, so I disappear into the bathroom and start the shower. Fuck, I can picture her standing in the claw-foot tub, water sluicing down her lithe body. I jerk my pants down in an effort to undress, but my cock stands up straight.

Son of a bitch.

Steam rises. As I step in, I contemplate taking my cock in hand and finding some relief, but I don’t dare leave Sophie alone longer than necessary. My fantasy tour between her thighs will have to wait.

But fuck, I can’t stop picturing Sophie spread out on that romantic bed, those legs wrapped around my waist as I bury myself deep.

I’d start slow, kissing every inch of pale skin until she’s begging, then flip her over and take her from behind, fixate on her very fine ass while she grips the decorative iron of the headboard.

The sounds she’d make when I hit that perfect spot inside her…

Christ, I want to hear her scream my name while I make her come over and over until she’s boneless and shaking.

Then I’d slide down her body and taste her until she’s sobbing with pleasure.

Those perfect tits bouncing as she writhes beneath me, that smart mouth of hers reduced to incoherent pleas for more…

My cock throbs painfully at the thought, but I force myself to lather up, rinse quickly, and get out. Since I don’t have any clean clothes, I dress again in what I wore earlier. Time to check on Sophie and grill her about her enemies. No way will I repeat my past mistakes. I won’t lose her.

As I’m tugging on my pants again, her tube of fuck-me red lipstick pokes me.

I set it on the edge of the sink, wishing I could do exactly what the color suggests, but my phone buzzes.

I’m not shocked one of my brothers is calling before I could reach out.

I’m only shocked I haven’t heard from them sooner.

“Hey, Rush.”

“Thank God you’re okay. What the fuck happened this morning? I just saw the news.”

“I’m fine. How are you?” I toss back.

“Glad to hear you’re alive. Not that you called to let any of us know.”

“What were you going to do from Florida?”

“Get on a plane if I had to.”

He’d do it, no doubt. “It’s under control, bro. I promise.”

“I didn’t think twice about you working that parade until the news reported shots fired. Who were you protecting?”

“This is completely on the down low. You’ve got to promise.”

“Yeah. Sure. You know me.”

I do. He’s tight. “Sophie Larsen.”

“No shit! She’s fucking gorgeous.”

Tell me about it. “She’s also scared as hell right now. Whoever busted up that parade was shooting at her.”

“Shit. The news speculated it was the work of an anti-government terrorist.”

I roll my eyes. “You know better than to believe a cover story.”

“That’s why I called you. The police didn’t catch him, by the way.”

I didn’t think they had. They won’t, either.

The shooter was too good. Sure, his first shot went wide, probably because Sophie was dancing, but if I hadn’t hustled her from the platform and out of the area, he would have offed her.

“And I know he’s not giving up, because he’s either got a purpose or a mental illness. ”

“Either can be fatal.”

“Yep.” And I’ve got to figure out how to keep Sophie safe. “Is everything okay with you?”

“Fine. Shit’s starting to happen here. I think my cover assignment is coming to an end.”

Rush would know. “Life of a spy, huh?”

“Don’t say that shit over the phone.”

Rush is convinced the NSA records everything. Hell, he’s right.

“Sorry, man.” He doesn’t offer more details about his job, and I don’t ask. Given his line of work, there’s only so much he can say. But I can’t resist ribbing him. “Still got our eyes—and nothing else—on Vanessa Hartley?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

I laugh. “Sure. I gotta go.”

“Sure. Check in, would you?”

“Will do. Hey, do you know if Ridge is around?”

“I talked to him last week. He’s still working undercover…but he’ll help if you need him.”

“Great. Thanks.” He’ll get me untraceable cash if I can’t lay my hands on more anywhere else.

“Love you, bro.”

Rush never has trouble expressing his feelings. Maybe because he’s learned the hard way that any day could be his last.

“Love you, too.”

We hang up, and I yank on my shirt, then emerge from the bathroom. At the end of the hall, Sophie sits on the sofa in some cross-legged pose that would make me feel like a pretzel, curled up with a book about Texas gardening.

I breathe a sigh of relief. “Learning anything?”

She looks up at me with a tired grin. “Yes. Why I have a brown thumb. Apparently, you have to be home to water your plants more than occasionally.”

“That would help.”

“Is your thumb greener than mine?”

“I’d be lying if I said it was,” I drawl. “Be right back.”

She nods, thumbing through the book, while I slip outside, the July heat nearly melting me as I walk the perimeter, scanning my surroundings and noting possible escape routes. Finally, I unlock the gate, leaving it slightly ajar for the pizza delivery, and head back inside.

As the air-conditioned bliss envelops me, I cross the space to sit in the big navy blue chair opposite Sophie, then set my weapon on the nearby table.

I try to focus on getting information from her, but every time she shifts, the tiny shorts ride up higher on her thighs.

When she leans forward to set the gardening book aside, the cardigan gaps open and I get a glimpse of her barely covered breasts through that transparent tank.

I’m going to lose my damn mind.

I clear my throat. “Sophie, I need to ask you some questions.”

“Before you ask, I really don’t know who would want me dead.”

“You’re sure it’s not a disgruntled family member?”

“No. Like I said, my dad has written me off, my mom has moved on, and my half siblings are all too young.”

“Crazed fan?”

“I guess it’s always possible, but I can’t think of one. Usually, there are hallmarks—at least according to other celebs I’ve talked to. You know, they contact you, try to get your attention, make it personal, develop a relationship with you…”

“And resort to violence when they feel spurned, yeah. None of that?”