Page 6

CHAPTER 6

T aschen sliced through the juicy steak, stabbed his fork into the mushrooms and onions, and popped the last bite of his food into his mouth. He stifled a groan of pleasure before pushing away his plate. They sat outside, and he inhaled the warm air while he brought his attention back to Sephie.

Sephie kept her gaze down while moving a piece of gristle with her fork. She’d been quiet all evening, but at least she’d eaten. Was she upset by something she’d found online? Or did it have something to do with him? “How was your steak?”

Her chin snapped up as if she’d been lost in thought and he’d surprised her. “Oh. Good. Really good.”

His phone dinged, and he lifted the screen to read Pearl’s text message.

The funeral is at 1:00 p.m. tomorrow.

More details followed, but he barely registered them. He turned the device so she could read.

Her face fell. “Thank you.” She returned to the world she’d been lost in.

“I’m sorry.”

Her gaze flitted to his. “Don’t be. Once the service is over, I hope peace will come.”

“It’ll take time, but it will.”

The sun was low in the sky, sending pink and orange streaks over the treetops. The sounds of crickets and birds would’ve been calming if it wasn’t for the weight of Sephie’s situation on his shoulders. He stood and gathered their plates. “I’m going to clean up the kitchen then get in the hot tub. Care to join me?”

She blinked. “Um. Yeah, I guess that’d be nice.”

He hooked an eyebrow. “No pressure. Just a quick dip. Or if you want, you can go yourself and I’ll go in after you.”

She waved him off. “No, I’m fine. I’ll help and then get changed.”

Sephie passed him dishes and he loaded the dishwasher. Kevin sat right next to Taschen’s feet, his hopeful little face turned up, waiting for a crumb. “We’ll feed ya, buddy. Hang on.”

Sephie chortled. “His stomach is a bottomless pit. I’ve never seen anyone so tiny eat so much.”

“Mind if I give him some steak? I saved a small piece.” He nodded at his plate by the sink.

“You’re really trying to steal my dog, aren’t you? Has this been your ploy all along?” Humor laced her words. He laughed and she rolled her eyes. “Yes, he can have the steak.”

He picked up the steak and tossed it into the dog’s dish with some dry kibble then scratched Kevin’s head. “See, Kev? I told you I’d convince her.”

Sephie grinned and his heart constricted. Making her smile while she was thinking about her best friend’s funeral was a worthy mission.

“I’m going to get changed,” she said. “I’ll meet you out there.”

“Sounds good.” He finished up in the kitchen then went to his bedroom. Light shone beneath Sephie’s door, and his imagination instantly brought forth the image of her stripping. His pulse ricocheted in his ears and desire spurred inside him. He shut his bedroom door and rolled his shoulders, but it didn’t calm the rod in his pants.

This was stupid.

He was acting like a horny fucking teenager. He should be able to share an evening dip with a woman without getting a hard-on. He removed his clothes and pulled on a pair of orange swim trunks he kept at the cabin.

He took out some towels from the linen closet in the hall. “I got the towels,” he called to Sephie’s closed door.

“Okay, be right out.” Her voice sounded strained and pitchy .

Conflict battled inside him. Maybe he was crossing a line. Hell, who the fuck was he kidding? Of course he was. He wouldn’t go hot-tubbing with any other client, for fuck’s sake. He blew a breath through tight lips and went outside.

Kevin followed and went to one of his resting spots by the stairs. With the porchlight off, the only illumination came from the eastern part of the sky, where the sun’s last rays clung to the atmosphere. The mauve dusk was being washed away by black.

He peeled back the hot tub cover and chlorine-scented steam billowed out. He checked the temperature and got in. Warmth spread around his body as he sank into one of the deep seats. The back door opened and Sephie padded across the wood-planked deck, a towel tied at her breasts. She kept her eyes downcast, and a pink blush filled her cheeks.

He fought the urge to smile. He’d told her he’d brought towels out, but clearly she’d wanted to cover herself. Which was a damn shame but also cute as hell.

She unwrapped the white terry cloth and tossed the material on the bench. “How’s the water?”

Her question barely entered his mind as his gaze took in her sleek arms and neck, full breasts barely contained by the violet bikini top, tight waist, and luscious hips.

Part of him prayed she’d turn around. Needed to see her from behind. She didn’t.

He cleared his throat. “Nice. It’s warm.”

She stepped inside and quickly dropped into one of the seats, once again leaving him bereft. He could look at her body for hours. Her hair was tied back in a messy bun and a few wayward locks were already wet and stuck to her neck. She tilted back her head and looked over her shoulder at the night sky. “It’s so pretty out here.”

He grunted. “Gorgeous.” The word fell from his lips carrying more meaning and weight than usual. Because he wasn’t referring to the soaring mountains or the span of stars over the towering trees.

The beauty of the wilderness had nothing on Sephie. She met his gaze, her eyes slightly wide, as though she was unsure she understood his meaning. God, she really was so fucking beautiful. If she’d decided to take her career farther, she’d have been an A-list actor for sure.

He had to change the direction of his thoughts and get onto a light topic before he said or did something he couldn’t follow through with.

“Find out anything on social media today?” He hadn’t wanted to ask, but it was the only thing that had come to mind. Not so light.

She brought her arms closer to her body and swung her attention to the forest. “I mean, yeah. They’re saying all kinds of shit.” She spoke low, hesitant. “Mostly just nasty rumors. ”

He nodded. He could surmise what people would say about a star dying so young. “I’m sorry,” he offered. “Don’t let it get to you. Most people know nothing and just speculate.”

She glanced at the water.

His radar echoed. “Sephie,” he said, slowly and deliberately.

She looked at him. Tears swam in her eyes, making the green as bright as emeralds and the gold striations a vibrant array of color.

“Tell me what’s wrong.” He hated the demanding ring of his voice, but Christ, if someone had said something to hurt her, he’d fucking lose it.

She shook her head, but the tears fell as she lowered her chin. “I—I’m still trying to cope.” Inch by inch she brought her attention back to his face.

Her stare slammed into him. Pain and torment crumpled her slight features. Her chin trembled, and she drew her knees in close to her chest. “What if Pippa didn’t commit suicide? What if... what if she was murdered?” Her bottom lip parted from her top, and all he wanted to do was lean in and swipe his thumb over her supple mouth.

Then, like marbles hitting quicksand, her words sunk in. “You think she was murdered?”

She swallowed. “I don’t believe she killed herself.”

He combed his wet hand through his hair. Hell, there was no right way to talk about this. Either she was right and suspicious play was involved in Pippa’s death, or she was wrong and would eventually have to acknowledge that she didn’t know as much about her friend as she’d thought. Either one fucking sucked.

“Shit. I mean, I guess there’s always that possibility. But keep in mind, these are the types of rumors that often surround celebrity deaths. I’m not saying there isn’t any truth to it, but there’d have to be a reason to kill her, right?”

She brought that damn sexy lip between her teeth and nodded, her eyes glassy. “Yeah. That’s what the commenter said. That Pippa had proof of something and was working with James Libby. I looked him up and he’s an investigative journalist from Los Angeles.”

Taschen whistled through his teeth. Hell. He’d heard of James Libby, and while the guy was respected and credible, he also went for the juiciest career-ending stories. If anyone was walking on borrowed time, it was James Libby.

Her eyes grew increasingly sad. If he could take back his earlier question about what she’d found on social media, he would, just to lessen her heartache even temporarily.

Indecision pooled inside him. Then she gave him another doe-eyed look and sucked him right into her vortex. He leaned forward and caught her hand. Her small fingers curled into his palm as he gingerly pulled her to his side of the hot tub .

Part of him wanted to draw her right onto his lap. Or at least hold and comfort her like he had every other female in his life. Maybe that was the hardest thing about being around Sephie. She had no one to love her, no one to wipe away her tears, or, Christ, even just give her a shoulder to cry on. All his life, that’s the role he’d had as a big brother. He’d chased away more bullies as a kid and pummeled more assholes as an adult than should have been necessary.

He’d always protected Dana. Had always shielded the brunt of hardship for any female because for some fucked-up reason, he couldn’t stand to see a woman cry.

And Sephie’s tears downright gutted him.

He’d already overstepped once or twice, though, and he’d make sure not to do it when she was vulnerable if it killed him. He guided her to the seat next to him and let go of her hand. “It’s prettier from here,” he said softly, nodding at the wilderness around them. “Can’t see the stars from where you were sitting.”

She gave him a shaky smile. “Thank you.” She relaxed against the headrest and a long sigh came from her mouth a moment later. “It’s hard to believe all the turmoil in my life when I can look at something so breathtaking.”

He kept his gaze on the moon, now hanging above the trees. “I can relate.” Once again, he’d been referring to her. Being near Sephie was intoxicating, haunting, and Jesus, enticing. Several beats passed. “If James Libby knows anything, I promise I’ll find out the truth.”

She turned to him, her eyes wide. “Taschen. You don’t have to get involved. I—”

“Honey, this is nothing. I’ve been up against far worse than some story-hungry journalist and a potentially murderous Hollywood producer.”

One slim, delicate eyebrow lifted. “Really? Sounds like you live on the wild side.”

“Wild enough.”

Her fingers lifted from the water and brushed over his cheek, featherlight soft and warm. “Is that how you got this scar?”

He caught her hand and lowered it beneath the rippling surface. “I wish I had a cool war story for that one.” He grunted. “Some prick harassed my sister at a bar and I lost it. Beat the shit out of him, but I also took a bottle to the face.”

Sephie gasped. “Oh my god. That’s awful.”

He fought the chuckle. “Dana hates that story. She said it was the worst night of her life next to finding me half dead at the safe house.”

Her gaze roamed his face, serene yet serious. “You’re really something, you know that?”

He let out a laugh. “I’m going to let that lie as cryptic as you left it. Something is right. What that something is—that’s another story.”

Her smile almost touched her sad eyes. “Your something is pretty impressive. ”

She turned her gaze back to the stars, but the smile stayed on her face, warming him from the inside out.

***

Taschen’s energy dominated the hot tub. Scratch that. He dominated the whole forest. But his gentle, coaxing attitude allowed her to relax for the first time since she read about Pippa’s death.

He just let her... be. He didn’t press, didn’t prod. Didn’t make any moves on her. Which she should be grateful for. Partially she was. Right now she needed a guy in her pants like she needed a hole in her head.

But Taschen’s laid-back persona? She could live with that.

They stayed in the warm water long after the jets shut off. He didn’t move to restart them and she didn’t either. The quiet was just what she needed. Every once in a while she’d let her gaze creep toward him and take in the tattoos on his chest and shoulders. Some snaked down his arms.

Hot.

Sinfully sexy.

If she didn’t keep her hormones in check, she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from climbing on top of him and screwing him senseless right here, right now.

She forced a fake, ragged yawn. “It’s getting late. I think I’m going to have a quick shower and go to bed.”

“Okay. I’ll bring Kevin in when I close up. I’ll see you at breakfast.”

“Don’t you want help shutting things down?”

He waved her off. “I can manage covering the hot tub. Go get some rest.”

Once again, he made her insides warm and fuzzy. If it wouldn’t have made things extremely awkward, she’d have given him a friendly kiss on the cheek for such a nice evening. “All right. But I’m cooking in the morning. It’s the least I can do.”

His teeth flashed. “I’ll never argue with a woman in the kitchen.”

“Smart man.” She stood, and water sluiced down her body. The cold air wrapped around her torso, sending goosebumps up and down her skin. Her nipples tightened as she reached for her towel. Because of where she’d tossed it on the bench, there was no way to avoid showing him her backside without looking extremely awkward.

As she wrapped the towel around her waist, she swung her gaze to Taschen. He hadn’t moved, but every chiseled line of his face had hardened. His eyes drilled into her, chasing away the goosebumps and leaving flames in their wake. Flames that could only be exterminated by one—very effective—method.

She ignored the pulsing between her legs as she climbed the stairs to the deck. “Uh. See you tomorrow,” she squeaked. Oh, dear god. She turned around so he wouldn’t see her grimace at the sound of her desperate voice.

“Night.”

Her wet feet slapped against the boards. Kevin lifted his head and blinked, judgment in his liquid-black eyes. She slipped inside and scurried to the bathroom. With the door shut and locked, she cranked on the hot water and removed her swimsuit.

Warm water pelted her skin as she stepped underneath the spray. Steam thickened the air, and she closed her eyes for a beat. Need pulsed through her loins, and her traitorous nipples were still taut and in need of attention.

Not that she’d get any from Taschen. That’d be too reckless. Dropping her head back, she let her fingers roam her body. She might not be able to have him, but she could at least relieve some of the pressure so she didn’t combust.

Taschen’s smiling face and tanned, toned body filled her mind’s eye. God, if his cock was as big as the rest of him, she’d split in two. She touched her folds, and pleasure tightened her inner thighs. Pushing two fingers inside herself, she stifled a cry and her eyelids flickered.

In seconds her body spasmed as pleasure seized her limbs. She came fast and hard, riding out the ripples of her orgasm.

Footsteps sounded outside the door, and a gentle knock followed. “Do you want me to leave Kevin in your room?”

“Uhm...” The word was strangled, part moan, part jumbled mess. Removing her fingers from her most delicate area, she forced stability into her voice and gripped the wall for support. “Yes. That’s fine, thanks.”

Silence. “Everything okay?”

“Yup!” She turned her face to the spray, wishing she could just dissolve.

“O-Okay. G’night.”

“Night,” she said, through the water running over her face.

Geez. Had she really just pleasured herself with him outside the door? He hadn’t heard. There was no way.

But the slutty part of her wished that he had.