Everything He Promises (Bookkeeper for the Billionaire #5)(4)
Author: Thalia Frost

“Please what, baby? Say it.” The hard note I knew so well had returned to his voice, and his hand slid up my shoulder, wrapping around my neck.

Rock squeezed lightly, and the pleasure grew to an almost unbearable peak with the loss of breath and his hand on my nubbin.

“Come for me, Lacey. Do it now.” His words were a command, not a request.

As usual, my body responded to his demand at once, and I spiraled into orgasm, the world going black even as he slid his hand back down to my breast and moved his fingers inside my pu**y.

“Oh, God. I want you inside me,” I panted, my pu**y clenching around him as I forced my eyes back open. The world was hazy.

“Sounds like a plan,” he whispered and picked me up halfway out of the bath.

I clung to him as our lips met. His kiss was like fire, all consuming and all I wanted, other than his cock.

As if he’d read my mind, Rock lowered me onto his stiff rod, and I groaned with pleasure as I bore down on him.

“Lacey,” he murmured, his hands in my hair, his lips against my neck then.

“Rock, I…” I stopped, heat flowing over me that had little to do with the water.

The words I love you had come to me without thought.

“What? You can tell me?”

I moved up, and he groaned and clasped my h*ps as we flowed in a dance.

“Nothing.” I smiled, gazing deep into his eyes. I wanted to look at my watch madly, needed to hoard every last second with the man I loved, the man who had my heart.

“I want you.” He thrust into me with a bellow.

I whimpered, his lust taking me to new heights.

“I’m coming. You feel so damn good, like you were made for me.”

I gasped at his words, unable to look into those eyes as he shouted his release. I rode the wave with him, the orgasm more powerful than any I’d experienced with him.

He folded me into his arms, and it was all I could do not to weep. “Oh, Lacey. So, we’re heading to California, huh?” Rock stroked my hair, sending shivers through me.

“Yes, in a few days, right?” I gave him a bright smile.

“That’s right, and I’ve been thinking a lot.” He cocked his head, a slight frown on his face.

“What?” I hoped in some irrational way that he would call the faux engagement and trip off now, that I wouldn’t have to leave him. That we could still be together and Lucifer would leave us alone, spare his life.

“That I love you. That I want you to be my wife.”

I scooted out of his embrace so quickly that water flew into my mouth. “What? What are you saying?” I wanted to kick myself at that reaction, but my heart was pounding too fast for me to think.

“Just what I said.” Rock leaned back, sighing as he looked at me lazily from under half closed eyelids. A strange looked passed over his features. “I’ll confess that I was afraid of getting too close, of letting you see my feelings for you. This was never meant to be more than a business deal, after all. But it turned into much more than that, and I’m happy it did.” A small smile curved his lips.

3:25 a.m.

“Oh.” I stalled for time. What to say? This didn’t change anything about someone planning to kill him if we married. In fact, it only made things worse.

“This is crazy.” I climbed out of the tub, wrapping a warm towel around me.

“Hardly.” Rock smiled, running his fingers through the water like an indolent child used to having his way. “So, what’s your answer?”

I laughed, shivering from the water on my skin. “You want an answer now—just like that?”

“If you’re ready to give it.” Rock rose from the heat of the tub in one deft movement. He grabbed his own towel, but not until he’d given me an eyeful.

Heat coursed through my body at the sight.

I could have this man in my bed, in my life. Mine. My husband.

Then the doubts crowded in. Even if there were no killer, how long would a man like Rock stay interested in a woman like me? There would be another bookkeeper, another woman to seduce…

“Lacey.” Rock’s voice was rough, his breath cool against my skin where he stood behind me.

“Yes?”

“Do you need more time?”

“No. I’ll marry you.” I fixed a smile to my face and yawned, turning to him.

“A real wedding, a real marriage. I don’t want the farce. The real thing will accomplish the effects as it is, and I can’t imagine something like that not being real…not where you’re concerned.” He brushed hair from my eyes.

“I can’t believe it.” I covered my mouth as if yawning again.

“Me neither. It looks like you’re bushed and that my plans for that smokin’ hot body of yours will have to wait. But I will…till tomorrow anyway.” Rock winked, and desire and regret and a million other emotions sizzled through my veins.

I wanted to cry out, to tell him everything, but I couldn’t. I knew Lucifer wasn’t playing with me. The threat to Rock’s life, not to mention the company, was very real. “I am bushed. Totally.” I took his hand in mine, leading him out of the bathroom.

3:31.

* * * *

I curled up next to Rock in bed, a strange sensation for me—one that I wanted to revel in. The clean scent of him, the feel of his skin under my fingers nearly made me break down. But I couldn’t. He needed me not to, even if he didn’t know it.

“I love you, Lacey,” Rock murmured, his voice full of sleep.

“I love you, too,” I whispered, struggling to keep my voice even as tears rolled down my cheek.

His breathing grew even, and I tested my ability to scoot out from under his arm. He didn’t move when I did. I gave it until 3:50 a.m. Then I pulled on my clothes, silent as a cat. I scribbled a note on the hotel pad of paper on the nightstand.

I’m so sorry, Rock. I just can’t do this.

~Lacey

And walked out the door with my handbag, not looking back.

Pushing my feelings down, I darted toward the elevator, praying George wasn’t nearby. I didn’t see him, but that probably meant he was patrolling the hallway. The hotel room was quite secure, though, and I wasn’t sure what Rock’s instructions to him had been. I made it into the elevator, breathing hard as I pushed “lobby” and bit my lip, drawing blood.

“Hurry up.” I whizzed through space to the bottom floor and ran out and into the lobby. No one was there but a couple of concierges. They didn’t even look up when I flew outside the door of the hotel. Running to the street, I prayed that a cab would stop.

It did.

“Airport, please.”

The driver nodded and sped off into the inky darkness of Venice. I let myself cry then, heavy, silent tears.