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I lift my leg to rest on his hip. The sound of cars honking rises up from the streets below, along with the murmur of air between skyscrapers. Beck moves us so I’m pressed against the outer wall of the hotel and his body is pinning me there.
I curl my other leg around his hip and ride his cock as he thrusts upward into me and I cry out and hang onto him while he crushes my mouth with his. The wall is cold behind my back but my body is fire and electricity.
He levels up the intensity of his thrusts, and I cry out again, clenching my pussy around his dick and my arms around his shoulders and my legs around his ass, holding him as close to me as another person can physically be.
He thrusts up hard one more time before his body tenses and he holds me in a hug that is hard and tight and everything a hug should be before he carries me inside and lays me on the bed.
“How’s that for fulfilling a fantasy?” I ask, smiling and reaching for him as he slides onto the bed beside me.
“Ask me in the morning. I’m not done with you yet.”
45
BECK
There are always people around now. Cameras pointed at every square inch of the house—security and paparazzi alike—and still, the letters keep coming. No one is able to tell how the fuck they’re getting here or who the fuck is bringing them, and we sure as fuck don’t have any idea why.
I’ve had every known associate of my father, myself, and Sloan checked out. I’ve stayed up nights watching the camera feeds. I’ve analyzed every letter and every word in them.
And all I have is a bunch of dead ends.
One of those “dead ends” includes the security guys who are taking home astronomical amounts of my paychecks every week but can’t find their asses with both goddamn hands.
I look at Spencer and two of the others whose names I haven’t bothered learning. “And you have no fucking idea who it is.”
Spencer shakes his head. “No, sir.” He looks at his comrades. “We’ve checked every minute of footage. It’s like they’re a fucking ghost, sir, if you’ll excuse the language.”
I clench my teeth hard and exhale through my nose like a raging bull. “I’m paying you for a service. That service is to provide security for me and Sloan. And yet someone is still, despite all this fucking security that is costing me an arm and a leg, getting these letters through.”
He winces. “We have a man every shift dedicated to Sloan. Two if she leaves the house. When she goes out in public, we put her in a car not her own and one of us takes her car on a joyride as a decoy. So far, there haven’t been any followers. We’re doing everything possible, sir.”
“What about the leak? Have we found out who is leaking information to the paps?”
Spencer sighs. “We’ve checked your phone and the landlines for anything that would indicate the phone has been cloned or has a listening device or a tap.”
“And?”
“And we haven’t found anything. That only leaves Sloan or someone inside your circle who is delivering the information to the photographers and the press.”
“Sloan? You can’t be serious.”
“What I’m saying is, we haven’t had the opportunity to check her phone. It could be cloned or bugged.”
Finally, a problem with a clear-cut solution. One I can handle. I nod. “I’ll get Sloan’s phone to you when she gets home.”
There’s nothing more to say, so I stand and look out the window to the backyard. From this vantage point alone, I can see five cameras aimed at the yard. Two are motion-detected. There areburied pressure plates, laser perimeter boundaries, the whole damn works.
And yet the letters just. Keep. Coming.
As soon as the meeting is over, my phone rings. When I see who it is, every paranoid bone in my body stands at attention.
How did my old man know that the meeting was over? But the answer to that one is simple: he didn’t. It’s a freak coincidence, nothing more. I need to stop jumping at shadows.
I swipe the screen. “What do you want?”
“I’m calling for an update, boy.”
“I don’t have anything to update.”
