“Are you ready for this, Charlie?”
Ready for what? The hard cock urging between her cheeks or the bundle of lit dynamite she was about to throw on her life?
Fuck it. She’d do both.
His baritone British accent pressed into her, not asking about the meeting—the one in an hour that would have the world aiming for her. Adding another maddening predator, the press, hunting to claim her sanity. And her life.
No, he was asking for more of her. His brute body steamed against the length of her back under the rain from the shower above—hands caressing her wet cheeks, spreading them, gliding his eager lust between.
“Daniel Pierce, I don’t know how you’re ready again,” she said. They had just fucked an hour before.
No, that round on the bathroom vanity was making love, bringing tears to her eyes at his gasps of devotion. Because as of this morning… they were finally free.
Free to be together. Free to tell the world. Free to love.
And their ecstasy lasted that blissful, orgasmic moment before it was shot away by a text ping beckoning her to check her phone charging on the hotel nightstand. While Daniel started their shower, her index finger touched the screen.
And summoned hell.
Now, she was thankful he couldn’t see her face. Lust and fear were smeared across it. A guise she wore daily since she was with him, loving him.
His fingers descended between her thighs, expertly strumming her closer. To pleasure. To the edge. To him.
“I’m ready for you and our life together, Charlie Ravenel.” The words hummed from his lips across her shoulder blade. Standing behind her, his truth was tempting. “It’s all I want. You. Us. Our love,” he said. “And no more hiding.”
She was never supposed to do this. Months before she was hired to protect Kierra Williams—a sixteen-year-old actor stalked on the set of the smash show The Druid. Charlie’s mission was to keep the girl safe and to find out who was leaving notes, tormenting Kierra with haunting tactics.
But Charlie fucked up. And fucked the one man she shouldn’t.
Daniel Pierce. The lead actor on the show. The A-list celebrity with sixty million followers. The one with a panty-melting face. The one with a profile of masculine perfection only a bit more recognizable than his, I-don’t-care-if-my-dad-catches-me-fucking-him perfectly sculpted muscular frame. And don’t get anyone started on his amazing ass.
Their first fuck was an atom bomb of love dropped on her lonely life.
And now his hands wrapped around her, coaxing her, reminding every cell in her body this is where she belonged, even if it meant giving up everything to be with him. Not that she was the kind of woman who’d ever give up a damn thing for a man. Fuck that. Never.
She had no choice. Not after the last forty-eight hours.
She told herself: Nope. That’s bullshit, Charlie Girl. This whole gorgeous, hot mess started months back.
True. They were a secret until that famous shot connected the two of them.
That shot? That video?
It was the one when she, Daniel and Rob—her best friend and colleague—were at a gym in Madrid, Spain.
To the public eye, they were just friends. Friends who shared workouts and their work on The Druid, filmed at the massive studio nearby. Daniel was the famous face with constant cameras on him. She and Rob were his colleagues, cast security for the show.
All would have been peachy until a loud noise cracked the air like gunshots across the gym. Some guy had dropped his heavy bar, but the sudden sound dropped Charlie to her knees in a PTSD blackout, shooting her mind back six years to when she was a Marine. And was shot three times.
Witnesses in the gym recorded the spectacle with their phones—#danielpierce rescuing a woman passed out in his arms.
So yeah, that video? It struck fucking media gold.
Because she was no average damsel in distress.
Posts of the video went viral, revealing her distinct scars. The bullet graze across her right cheek. The shot through her right shoulder. Hashtags, rumors, and comments started. Millions of them. And fans and press have been hunting for the blonde draped over Daniel Pierce’s arms ever since.
And now this.
A stand-off.
A lethal chess game with the sadistic stalker she caught trying to rape Kierra Williams. The stalker was none other than Kierra and Daniel’s co-star.
The beautiful. The famous. The evil. Mason Hunt.
“You can’t fight me, Charlie.” Daniel’s digits focused her on this indulgence. One she needed like fire needs oxygen. The only thing that grounded her—kept her sane—was his love.
His lips nuzzled down her neck, knowing her “hell yes” spot. The heat of his wet body pressed, every part of it firm, and one part even harder for her, wanting in. A whisper steamed over her ear, “I can’t get enough of us,” while thick fingers plunged hard into her thirst, the others teasing her tingling nipples.
Frisking hands apprehended her desire with another beckon from his lips, “you’re so fucking beautiful,” in that velvet, bass voice. It could sell sand in a dessert. A gentle kiss landed on her cheek. “God, I love you, babe. Come on. One more time to celebrate. We’re finally free.”
No, they weren’t.
She had read the text minutes before joining him in the shower. It slung her right back into a prison cell of fear. Knocking the air from her lungs. Crashing her back into the concrete wall of reality.
Unknown
I’m standing in line
Thinking about fucking with you
Today & always
It was a fatal secret she’d keep from Daniel to protect him. He never knew such threats. She’d already been shot by such a man and prevailed. Never would she let harm come to Daniel, the rare gem of love she’d found again.
The last words she had said to the stalker? To Mason Hunt while he licked his evil “fuck you” words up to her, promising he wasn’t done? Tormenting. Stalking. Raping.
She had stood over Mason, after she kicked his ass, before the detectives whisked him away in cuffs. Squatting down, confronting his eyes and threat, she said, “You’ll be standing in a long line if you want to fuck with me.”
Now Mason’s white-pretty-boy-celebrity-rich-ass made bail, paid a sycophant member of his posse to buy a bag full of burner phones so he could let her know… he was standing in line, waiting...
To more than fuck with her.
Warm water rained over her. Resting against Daniel’s cement chest, his strong body was a buzz of Xanax to her anxiety. If only for a short life. Or a night. Or a moment. He was her harbor in a hurricane and her squalling storm... all at the same time.
He stood behind her with more than desire. It was love. Love wrapping around her, asking to lavish her. And she wanted this. Needed it. Given how long she pushed love away. Feared it for six years. Until Daniel.
Could she really do it?
Drop all her defenses given how many were gunning for her now?
Resistance twisted her shoulders. Fear deployed through her nerves.
“How do you reckon we’re free now?” she asked him, poised with wanting over her shoulder. “I’m about to lose my job by walking a red carpet with you for the entire world to see and fuck my life sideways.”
“Charlie.” His shocked voice and gentle hands turned her around. Hurt by her comment burned in his aqua eyes. “You don’t have to go to the premiere with me. I’d never make you do a bloody thing.”
Shit, she didn’t mean to fire at him like that. Her damn mouth needed a silencer sometimes. The fucking text from Mason had sentenced her to a vengeful mood.
Daniel wouldn’t let her go. “What’s going on with you?” Confusion dripped from his face. “We already talked about this. How we’re doing this together. And now you’re having second thoughts?”
His hulking shoulders rose under his steel jaw, veins and sinews down his neck tensing in her sight.
“If we do this, there’s no going back,” he said. “Our lives. Our careers. Nothing will be the same.” A small measure of his power squeezed her bicep. “I love you, but I won’t have you hating me, resenting me for it. What do you want, babe?”
“Daniel”—her hand scratched over his sexy stubble—“I want to go to the premiere with you. I love you, and I want you to fuck me and my life sideways.”
No smile back. He didn’t buy it.
“I’m serious, Charlie. Don’t muck about.” Little droplets clung to his dark chest hair, while drip by drip, fell from his coal-colored waves. Even angry. Or hurt. He was the sexiest man to millions and the most beautiful love she’d known. “We don’t have to go public.”
“We already are public. Your obsessed fans are connecting the dots as we speak. My scarred body passed out in your arms in a Madrid gym months ago. It’s all over social media. And last night? The same scar across my cheek, on the Comic-Con stage behind you and Kierra, clearly security for your show. The connection is made.” Certainty washed down her face, staring back up at his. “Tick fucking tock.”
Was it his fault?
No. They both had a legacy of guilt.
He was an A-list celebrity at the pinnacle of his career whose feet couldn’t hit public pavement without notice. Without risk.
She loved him. But hated his life.
She was an addict for protecting others, mainly girls and women. Years ago in the military and now as her job. Her instinct kept them safe but always told her—HIDE. Never seek the spotlight unless you’re saving someone.
Only then, like before, would she stand in the fire.
He loved her but had no idea what they faced.
In four days.
She would swan dive into his celebrity life.
Exposure to the level of fatal, she feared.
His hand cupped her cheek. Goddammit, that always disarmed her.
“I know we’re running out of time, babe,” he said. “It’s why we agreed to do it this way. On our terms. Out our relationship before the press or Mason can.”
“I know.” She held his hand caressing her face. “I’m not changing my mind. We’re in this together. I promise.”
God, how she wanted to tell him. They had more to worry about than Mason leaking to the press that Daniel Pierce was dating, fucking, whatever, a member of security for his show.
That was salacious gossip. Nothing to fear.
The text this morning? To hell it was Unknown.
Her instinct read it and stared down the next week, months, hell maybe the rest of her life. Knowing…
Mason Hunt was sinking his sadistic teeth into Charlie now. Vicious because she busted him stalking Kierra. Obsessed with revenge for the ass-beating she gave him when she stopped him trying to rape Kierra. Fixated upon a new target for his demented psyche—the woman who ruined his career.
Charlie knew the minute she set her sights on Mason Hunt five months before that he was a predator.
And now… she was his prey.
But if she told Daniel, neither would have peace. And she meant it. She loved him. Because, dear God, the man dropped to his knees and loved her so much in return.
Yes, on paper, she was the hero, the one who sacrificed. The one who gave her service and almost her life to help others. And would to her dying day.
But what the world didn’t know about Daniel Pierce? Behind a facade of hero, celebrity, and beauty, you would find a man capable of a love so great it tore down her every defense.
He could fuck her. Fuck her private life. Fuck her safe solitude all up.
It fired her DNA up—protect him, always.
From the terrifying truth. From her haunting, lingering instinct. It was always right. Warning her...
Mason Hunt isn’t the only one hunting you now.
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