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That barrel chest of his heaves, sweat forming on his brow.
He shifts in his chair, visibly worked up—and his obvious arousal makes me so hot, I soak the seam of my bike shorts. It’s almost like we’re having sex from across the room. And that’s what my body mimics. The act of intercourse. With the provocative dance moves, I’m showing him how I will move beneath his giant frame. How my hips will lift, how I’ll writhe my sex for him, how my breasts will bounce.
There is no one stopping us.
No one between us.
Definitely not my father. I’m a woman now. A grown up. Every step I take, every toss of my hair, shows him that, until he’s rising from his chair, the work in front of him forgotten. I stop dancing in the middle of the routine. He’s making his way toward me. There will be no more waiting. He’s going to take me somewhere and finally give us what we both want—
“Oh God!”
I’m drawn up short by the alarmed shout from Taryn. She’s standing in the doorway of the rehearsal studio, holding something in her hand, staring down at it in horror. A box? That’s not what has given her an obvious fright, though.
It’s whatever is inside.
Murph gives me one last longing look before changing direction, stomping over to my manager and taking the box out of her hand. When even my unshakeable Murph rears back a little, I know it must be serious.
The song fades out and I take a step forward. “Murph?”
“Don’t come any closer, Angelica.” His attention swings to Taryn. “Where did you get this?”
“A messenger delivered it.”
“That’s impossible. I’ve restricted all entry from the property while Angelica is here.” A flex of his hand crumples the box slightly. “I’ll ask you again, where did you get this?”
What is going on here?
Taryn takes a step back from Murph, her eyes darting to the side. “What are you accusing me of?”
Jaw flexed, Murph doesn’t respond. Instead, he takes out his cell phone and punches a button, holding the device to his ear. I use his momentary distraction to creep forward, craning my neck to see what is inside the box. The blood drains from my face when I see the miniature doll that looks exactly like me with a butcher knife sticking out of its chest.
“Miller. Did you allow a messenger in to make a delivery?” Murph barks into the phone. As he listens, his eyes are narrowed on Taryn. “That’s what I thought. We discussed my theory on the way here and I’ve been proven correct. Get in here now.” He hangs up the call. “This came from you, didn’t it?”
Taryn gives an incredulous laugh. “Me? Why would I send this to Angelica?”
“I looked into your background, Taryn. A little deeper than before. This is your first manager position, but you used to work for a trashy online tabloid, didn’t you? You didn’t want anyone to know how low you’ve sunk in the past, so you’ve been using an alias. But you know exactly how to make headlines, don’t you? You have the right contacts to do it. This is all fake, isn’t it? You’re terrorizing Angelica just to keep her in the fucking news.”
“No.” She shrinks into herself. “No, that’s not true.”
“You have motive. You have opportunity.” Murph dials his phone again and from where I’m standing, I can hear the 911 operator’s voice down the line. “You're lucky I’m calling the police and not handling this myself.”
Taryn attempts to run out the door, but my security team appears in the opening and blocks her path, one of them turning her around and securing her wrists together with a zip tie.
Oh my God. My legs are shaking.
It was my manager who sent those ugly messages?
Maybe it was naïve of me…but I trusted her.
A shudder passes through me, ice forming on my skin. And for the longest time, there has only been one person I want touching me when I’m scared. Murph. I don’t hesitate or think twice, I just run to him, tucking myself beneath his arm and letting his presence warm me. “It’s okay, baby,” he mutters into my hair. “You know I’ll never let anything or anyone hurt you.”
“I know.”
“Everything is going to be okay.”
I nod, turning my face into his chest, soothed by the baritone of his voice as he explains the situation to the police. It’s not long before I hear sirens in the distance, although Murph keeps me safely inside until Taryn has been taken away by the LAPD several minutes later.
As soon as they’ve driven away, Murph lifts me against his big, hard body, urging my thighs around his waist. And he walks me across the room to a chaise lounge, sitting down on one end and rocking me side to side, begging me to stop shivering. In the beginning, it’s fear making me quake, but at some point it turns into the leftover buzz of adrenaline. The relief of being out of danger electrifies my skin and I find myself scooting closer on Murph’s lap, settling my sex on the thick ridge of his erection, moaning at his sharp hiss of breath.
