Steal (Seaside Pictures 3)

I narrowed my eyes. “I hate you so much right now.”

“Quick, look at me for like one minute, look into my eyes Will Sutherland, we’re meant to be. I just know it!”

I didn’t laugh.

Instead, I did just what she suggested. “I think I just fell under your spell, hey are you the Angelica Greene? Child star turned teen diva? The girl who launched a thousand Abercrombie and Hollister ads with the flick of her wrist? Holy shit! Will you sign my T-shirt? Mom just ironed it tonight so…”

Her laughter lit up the cave like sunlight, warming me from the inside out. “Okay you win.” She was still laughing when I kissed her with every intention of finding out if her laugh tasted as beautiful as it sounded.

I suppressed a soft groan.

Better.

It tasted better.

My soul ached when she kissed me back with so much fervor I promised myself in that moment there wouldn’t be another girl for me.

Ever.

I’d chased her for a month.

Filmed with her for a little under two weeks.

And already.

I was gone.

I gave her my heart in that cave.

She took it without looking back.

And made eye contact with me the night she crushed it between her fingers.

I shook the memory and slammed the door behind me. Angelica flinched at my side.

“So, this is home for the rest of filming huh?” She moved past me and did a quick circle before facing me, hands on hips. “Where am I sleeping?”

“Not with me.”

“Wasn’t offering.”

I snorted. “And you think I was?” I shoved past her. “I’m not really into sharing. Besides… the drug and STD screenings still haven’t come through.”

She raised her hand in the air as if she was going to slap me.

I lifted my chin. “Do it. Wouldn’t be the first time a client wanted to hit me.”

Her nostrils flared. Eyes filled with tears.

And immediately I felt like shit.

Especially since she’d volunteered all of the above in order to get the job. It was one of Jaymeson’s rules.

She had to be clean.

And since she was kissing so many dudes, he wanted her to be clean in every possible way.

Plus, it was a reminder not to screw up.

And in Jaymeson’s words, a way to own her humbleness.

“Sorry.” It hurt like hell to form the word let alone release it into the space between us. “That was too far.”

She shook her head and took a step backward then sat down on the leather couch, it made a squishing sound.

Darkness enveloped the house.

What the hell had I been thinking? I should have hired a babysitter for her, not actually taken the job. I wasn’t going to make it out alive; I was already struggling breathing the same air, knowing her lips had tasted the same spaces that were hitting my body.

Damn, I was losing my mind.

“Hungry?” I nearly sprinted into the kitchen. “I had everything stocked for us. We’ll have someone come in once a week and re-stock, just make sure you write the housekeeper a note so she knows.”

“Not hungry,” Angelica finally said after a few seconds of silence. “I think I’ll just go to bed.” She stood. “Which room is mine?”

“The one next to mine.” I tried not to sound gruff, but it came out all wrong, like I was still pissed when I was just having a really hard time keeping my memories of her naked body on lockdown. What kind of horrible person had she turned me into?

I led the way down the hall, past the master, and flicked on the light in the largest of the guest rooms.

Angelica walked in past me. “Well at least I have all of my clothes.”

“Everything you brought is here.” I shrugged. “Your call time is five-thirty a.m. Get some sleep.”

I turned to leave, well aware of her footsteps behind me. I didn’t make it very far into the living room before I heard her yell.

“Where the HELL is my door?”

I smirked and waited.

She stomped down the hall. I turned.

Face redder than I’d ever see it, she thrust a finger in my direction. “Will this isn’t funny.”

“Do I look like I’m laughing?”

“Will!” She screeched. “I need a damn door!”

“So you can do drugs? Sneak out? Sneak people in?” I shook my head, “Hell no, you get no door. Besides, it’s not like I haven’t seen it all before — right?”

“You’re a sick bastard.”

“All right.” I stalked toward her. “But I’m the sick bastard who’s helping save your career. You get a door when you pass six weeks’ worth of drug tests and when I say door I mean one of those little bead things tween girls get that make noise every time you walk through.”

She exhaled, eyes filling with tears while her body shook with rage. “I’m clean. You know I’m clean.”

“So stay clean, and you get a door. The math isn’t hard, Ang. No drugs equals privacy. And any sort of drugs or rule breaking means your ass is on the first plane back to LA.”

“You treat all your clients like they’re your children?”

“Only ones who clearly need parenting.”

“Pretty sick words for someone who’s seen it all, huh Will?” She jerked her tank top over her head and tossed it on the floor between us, she may as well be throwing down a gauntlet.

I kept my jaw locked.

My stare indifferent.

“All right.” She hooked her fingers into her shorts and shoved them down her long tan legs, stepped out of them and waited. Baiting me.

I wasn’t going to bite.

I knew her game.

And players weren’t given unlimited lives.

With a scowl, she clenched her fists and then dropped her bra.

Topless.

I flinched.

I didn’t mean to.

So when she tugged her black boy-shorts next, I forced my eyes not to blink. They burned as my entire body demanded I lick and swallow her whole.

Then go back for seconds.

My smile was cruel when I wanted it to be loving.

I hated myself in that moment. For allowing her to make me that man, the one who would break her.

When I knew all she ever wanted was love. Acceptance.

But we were too far gone.

With a sigh, I slowly approached her, then knelt, bracing her hips with my hands like I was going to press a kiss to her belly button, I ran my hands down her hips. Her body gave a jerk as her head fell back, her fingers dug into my hair.

I winced at the contact.

It would be too easy.

But there was a giant past between us.

A river of sins separated us.

I slid my hands down her perfect legs, then grabbed her discarded clothes and stood. “I think you dropped these.” I brushed a rough kiss to her cheek, and brought my lips to her ear. “Go to bed, Ang.”

Breathing ragged, she grabbed the wad of clothes from my hands and stumbled backward, tears filling her eyes.

No door slammed but I imagined that if she had one, it would have splintered into a thousand tiny pieces as I turned on my heel and walked into my own room, body stiff as a board.

Brain reeling from the encounter.

And in need of a cold shower.

Or twenty.

I might loathe the woman.

Hate beyond words.

But one thing rang true — she was absolutely heart-stompingly — beautiful.

And at one time — she’d been mine.

Those hips.

Those breasts.

Those legs wrapped around me.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

Until she was someone else’s completely.

And I had nothing.

I pounded the wall with a fist and slowly made my way to the bathroom, jerking the knob full blast on cold.

I BLINKED UP at the white ceiling, willing the tears to dry. Praying they wouldn’t slip free — because once they were loose there was no stopping the onslaught of emotion that would follow, the devastation, the earth-shattering realization that nothing would ever be the same between us. Not if he could help it — and not with me constantly pushing him.

But at least pushing him got me a reaction that proved he wasn’t a complete indifferent sociopath.