Page 63 of The Illusion of Power (Passion and Politics #1)

SELENE

“ G orgeous. ”

Beck’s voice is a dark, relieved chorus of soft breaths against my neck. He’s got me pinned to the door, my legs around his waist, the tote bag that was in my hands on the floor, completely forgotten.

I wrap my arms around his neck, fingers caressing his scalp, cupping the back of his skull lovingly before moving down to knead at the muscles in his shoulders. He’s so tense, but his eyes are soft as he gazes up at me.

“I missed you,” he says.

“I missed you, too.”

And I did. I missed the peace that the circle of his arms brings.

The way the fear and anxiety of the day leaves my body as he carries me deeper into the room and sits down on the edge of the bed closest to the door, with me on his lap.

He’s partially undressed, the neck of his button-down gaping open to expose his throat and the spattering of hair at the top of his chest. I can’t stop myself from leaning in, from licking and sucking and nipping at every inch of skin I can reach while he pulls the hem of my blouse out of my pants and lays his hot palms over the bare skin of my lower back.

I didn’t come here for this. I really don’t have time for it, but I need it.

I need him, and it’s clear to me that he needs me.

Not just because he’s responding so vocally—deep, approving grunts vibrating from his chest—or because his dick is a hard press between my legs, but because he’s clinging to me like I’m his lifeline, like he knows that he’s mine.

That thought makes every touch a thousand times more potent, every kiss a million times more heated. Beck’s hands move to my waist, holding me close even as I cling to him, rocking against him repeatedly until the friction sends arcs of electric pleasure racing through my veins.

I bury my moan against his racing pulse, panting as I come down from my release.

“What a beautiful display,” Cal purrs. I peek over Beck’s shoulder to see him leaning against the frame of the bathroom door in a towel. His arms are crossed, and there’s a delicious smile curving his lips.

“Hi,” I murmur, tipping my head back in offering when he approaches for a kiss. “I missed you.”

He cups my face in his hands, holding me like I’m the most precious thing. “And I, you.”

Beck nuzzles into my neck. “How long can you stay?”

Dread inspired by his question coils in my stomach, stealing what little joy I had found in this moment of respite.

“Not long. I’m on my way to a dinner with Aubrey, Torrance, his wife, Anne, Jordan, and Cordelia.

” I roll my eyes, sliding off of Beck’s lap.

“I had to feign period cramps to get them to leave me alone long enough to stop by.”

Aubrey’s impatience and lack of empathy made the excuse work like a charm.

He demanded everyone leave the suite with him and his entourage, not even leaving behind a single agent because he didn’t want their time wasted on me and my antics.

The rest of my plan went off without a hitch once they were gone.

I took the stairs from the top floor to here, knowing I’d find them in this room because I overheard the number on the comms when the agent posted in the lobby confirmed their arrival.

It was a complicated plan, with lots of room for things to go wrong, but so far, nothing has.

If I want to keep it that way, I have to make it to the lobby in the next ten minutes to avoid Agent Harris sounding the alarm.

He’s been a real stickler for the rules lately, trying to reassert some of the authority he lost when he caved to Monique so easily in Nevada.

“What do you need?” Cal asks, expression turning serious.

I feel bad about constantly bringing them stress, but I know there’s no one else I trust with this. “This morning I did an interview with a local news station.”

They both nod like this isn’t new information to them, and I wonder why I thought it would be.

With everything they have going on, they still keep tabs on me.

They know my schedule even on their days off, and make it their business to know who is protecting me at any moment.

Going so far as to report any missteps to Hicks even if it’s a situation like Nevada when they’re the ones who benefit from their team mates slacking off.

“Ursula Upshaw is on my shit list,” Beck says.

“Oh, she’s on mine too, but her little off-the-rails interview isn’t even the problem.”

He tilts his head to the side. “Then what is?”

Knowing we have limited time, I rush back over to the door and pick up the tote. Beck stands, following me over to the desk with Cal on his heels. They’re both quiet as I slide the white box out, tossing the tote I stored it in aside before setting it down gingerly on the lacquered wood surface.

“ This is the problem.”

I step back to make room for their imposing frames, giving them the space they need to fully experience the horror I’ve been carrying around with me all day.

After the initial shock wore off in the dressing room, I had the presence of mind to wash the fake blood off my hands and put everything back in the box the way it was.

I carried it out of the news station as if it were a gift, not letting on for a single second that something was wrong, because I didn’t trust anyone but the two men in front of me to handle it.

Cal turns around first, holding the note from the bottom of the box in his hand.

“Where?”

“Inside my dressing room. It was waiting on the vanity after the interview was done.”

Beck is still sorting through the photos. “Where were Harris and Anderson?”

“I was upset when I left the stage. I wasn’t paying attention to who was where.” My teeth sink into my bottom lip. “I’m sorry. I should have?—”

“ Don’t apologize. ”

They issue the order together, voices layering over each other to form one, strong, undeniable force. Cal comes to me, taking my face in his hands once again. “You made the best decision you could in the moment, Selene. We weren’t there, and we still don’t know who we can trust.”

“Not Anderson or fucking Harris,” Beck growls, turning to lay a severe gaze on Cal. “We need to process that room.”

He shakes his head. “No point. There’s probably been fifteen different people in and out of there since she left.”

Another apology slides up my throat. I knew I was being unwise, breaking some kind of protocol or evidence-gathering process by not alerting anyone to the breach.

Now we’ve lost the chance to examine what is essentially a crime scene.

I bite back the words, knowing they won’t want to hear them, focusing on offering something that’s not regret.

For some reason, I reach for positivity.

“This is a good thing, though, right?”

Both of them look at me. Confused and enraged onyx. Wild, murderous copper and brass.

“This is terrifying, Selene,” Beck says, pointing at the box. “There’s nothing good about it.”

Everything about Cal’s expression says that he agrees, and as much as I love these two men, as much as I value their expertise, I know they’re not thinking clearly right now.

All they see is the threat, and I see it too; I’m terrified by it as well, but I also see the potential. I have to make them see it now, too.

“You’re right. It’s terrifying, but it’s also the first tangible, credible proof of a threat we’ve been able to find. If we take this to Hicks, if we show him, he won’t be able to write it off. He won’t be able to ignore you.”

Cal’s features twitch with agitation at the mention of going to Hicks, and I get it.

They don’t trust their team, and right now, I don’t either, especially after the author of the note used the code name that only the men on my detail call me by.

However, we’re past the point of pretending this is something we can handle on our own.

We need help.

“They’ll want to know why you waited, why you came to us with this and no one else.” He searches my face. “What are you going to say? How will you explain?”

“I’ll tell the truth.”

Beck balks. “You’re going to tell them you’re in love with us?”

I let out the first real laugh that I’ve had in days. “No, I think I’ll keep that between us for now. I’ll tell them the other truth, which is that there’s no one else in this world I trust more than the two of you.”