Richard's Reign (Book 6): Enthrall Novella #3 (Enthrall Sessions) (18 page)

“This is messed up.”

“Andrea means the world to me.”

“Cameron goes out of town for five minutes and you wreak havoc.”

“Andrea told me she felt the benefit of facing her fear,” I whispered. “She needs to stand up to Mubarak.”

“You should have turned her down when she asked for emersion.”

“I’ve treated her well. Focused on pleasure, mostly.”

Because of her aversion to pain.

“Mostly?” he muttered.

“I’ll talk to her.”

“No, I’ll talk to her. Ask her forgiveness for ever mentioning your name.”

“What has she told you?”

“She’s back on set. Throwing herself into her work. Trying to salvage what’s left of her self-respect.”

“I didn’t hurt her.”

“You put her in the water with an eighteen-foot shark, Richard.”

“I wanted to be the one to tell you.”

“TMZ’s running a feature on her new mysterious boyfriend. Shay will throw a fit.”

I swallowed hard. “Did they say my name?”

He shrugged. “Look, I’m here to take you to over to Warner Brothers.”

“Where Andrea’s filming?”

“Her publicist wants to meet with you.”

“Why?”

“She’s working on a strategy to make this whole thing go away.”

The ache in my chest worsened. “You mean me?”

CHAPTER 21

THE INTRODUCTIONS WERE brief.

Megan Banks met Ethan and I outside Andrea’s luxury trailer, and we made the short journey up the steps and went inside.

Megan wore the fierce demeanor of an East Coast businesswoman, bleached blonde hair in a French plat, shiny purple silk shirt and a pencil skirt to her knees, tight and restrictive, like her expression.

Looking around I caught sight of how Andrea had made this little space welcoming. Cushions of every color on the couch, a small fridge and Perrier bottles lined up neatly along the small kitchenette, a vase full of lilies. Seeing them made me question who’d given them to her, and I felt an unfamiliar pang of jealousy. I mused that such an emotion was perfectly normal, we’d bonded after all, as lovers do, my imagination soothed me with the conclusion she’d bought them herself.

Near her bed sat that large blue
Doctor Who
Tardis Police Box mug.

She had a rose-patterned duvet she covered herself with when she took naps, no doubt her way of enduring the long production hours and her need to be fresh for each take. I’d made her believe I’d not cared for her profession but in reality I’d seen the truth behind the veil. The grueling hours, the constant hounding by fans or stalkers with cameras who called themselves journalists, and more impressive still was how far she pushed herself to be perfect for everyone around her.

Megan Banks’ death glare stayed on me and I was grateful when it shifted to Ethan. Had this been any other day under different circumstances visiting Warner Brother’s back lot might have been considered a fun day.

That East Coast accent came on strong, pure New York, pure Megan Banks fueled on caffeine and ambition. She told me she’d been Andrea’s publicist from the start of her career, she also shared that their business relationship had turned into a deep friendship. Megan and Andrea were best friends and Megan would do anything for her.

Megan shot me a knowing look.

“Andrea’s smitten with you,” she admitted.

“I’m very fond of her,” I said. “She’s very special.”

“Are you in love with her?” she asked.

I looked to Ethan for support.

His expression hadn’t changed from when we were back at Enthrall. That look of defeat filled with empathy and that arched brow to warn me the strike was coming.

As though on cue, Megan went for my jugular. “I’m afraid your current profession isn’t going to fly, Mr. Booth.”

“Excuse me?”

“I work tirelessly to keep negative press away from Andrea. It’s not difficult, not really, not if she continues to surround herself with people with integrity. There’s an art to ensuring her name remains untainted.”

I stood tall, quietly warning myself not to be drawn into her drama. “What are you trying to say?”

“Should it become known that Andrea is fraternizing with a man of your profession—”

“You mean stockbroker?”

“We both know you’re not a stockbroker, Mr. Sheppard.”

She’d used my real name like a bad move on a chess board.

I folded my arms across my chest. “Actually, I handle several clients’ portfolios—”

“Megan,” said Ethan, “Richard understands the delicate nature of Andrea’s reputation. He’s agreed to extricate himself…”

And so it went on.

Andrea and Ethan talking over me, the discussion morphing into accusations of how I’d taken advantage of Andrea’s delicate psyche and the conversation circled the drain fast as they delved deeper into my family history. Megan’s emphasis on how such a connection with me would ruin an actress of her caliber.

“It’s better if you let me talk,” snapped Ethan.

Trying to defend myself had riled up Megan’s ugliest side, apparently.

She’d screamed at me to. “Shut the fuck up.”

Taking a moment to recover from her outburst and drawing on my Zen, I kept my voice calm. “I’d never to anything to hurt her.” I glanced over to the door to the outside.

God, these trailers were small. Suffocating.

Megan calmed a little. “Ethan has assured me you are essentially a good man, Mr. Sheppard.”

“Please, call me Richard.”

“I’d like to believe you are, a good man that is, unlike your father.” She might as well have stuck one of her over-manicured fingernails in my carotid.

It was never meant to last, I reasoned
.

You were never meant to like her quite this much.

The signed agreement was fulfilled. The time limit reached. The submissive in question having benefited from the brief and yet startlingly profound experience.

“To be frank, Mr. Sheppard, it’s over.”

Trying to convince myself this was the truth and that I’d not developed feelings for this woman who seemed to belong more to others than herself, a lover who’d come into my life and swept me up into the storm of her existence, her love pure, her sweetness enduring, her affection healing.

All this time I’d arrogantly believed I was helping her.

“So we have an understanding?” said Megan, her voice coming from far off.

“Yes,” I heard myself reply.

“Well, I’m glad you’re reasonable at least.”

I frowned at her. “At least?”

“Yes, most men would see her fame and money and not let go so easily.”

“It was never about that,” I said.
She came to me.

Ethan rested his hand on my shoulder. “Let’s go get a drink.”

I gave a reluctant nod.

Perhaps this was how it was done? When Andrea was over a man she got Megan to do her dirty work. Perhaps I’d never know.

“Please explain this to Andrea for me,” I said softly.

Megan gave a thin smile.

“Tell her…” I searched for the words, maintaining an air of nonchalance.

“I’ll tell her to focus on her career, Mr. Sheppard, as I always do.”

With Ethan close behind me, I made my way down the short steps of the trailer. I wanted off this lot.

Hell, I wanted off this planet.

“I’ll handle the press,” said Megan, hurrying behind us.

Probably more for Ethan’s sake than mine.

“We appreciate that,” he said.

My legs froze when I saw that beautiful face coming toward me, a well of panic rising in me that I’d have to endure another awkward exchange - this time with Andrea.

I braced for the impending coldness between us.

I’d have to explain why I was here. My jaw clenched and my chest constricted.

Andrea stopped suddenly when she saw me. Sienna was by her side. A few words were exchanged and Sienna scurried away, throwing me a passing nod as she went.

I went to apologize for being here.

Andrea ran toward me and leaped into my arms, wrapping her arms and legs around me, hugging me tight. “I’m so happy you’re here.”

CHAPTER 22

“WE’LL ONLY BE a moment,” Andrea told Ethan and Megan, as she gripped my hand and pulled me up the trailer steps.

With no choice but to hurry behind her I threw Ethan a reassuring smile while trying to avoid the glaring daggers from Megan.

I shut the door to the world outside.

Her face was flawless, that stark makeup applied with perfection and extra heavy for the lights. That short peach-colored dress so feminine, her dark hair curling around her shoulders.

“You changed your mind?” she said.

“So unlike me.” I forced a smile, my heart aching that I was about to deliver the deathblow.

“I can’t stop thinking of you.” She fell to her knees and went for my zipper.

“Wait.”

She was fast, too fast, her hands bringing me out of my pants and massaging me, the tip of her tongue running along the head of my cock.

“We need to talk,” I reasoned breathlessly, trying to fight this need to break away, trying to fight this need not to.

She slapped my hands away when I tried to stop her.

Thoughts swirled, my senses sparking—

Andrea was deep-throating me and my hardness grew in her mouth. She owned me, captured me completely and I became her willing prisoner. When her hands cupped my balls and squeezed, I flinched.

“We should talk.”

“We are.” Her mouth took me all the way in again, her hands now on my ass and drawing me into her with a fierce rhythm.

I wanted to tell her this was not the best idea, knowing that our judge and jury were waiting outside for us to exit in the next minute or so to prove this bad boy had done the right thing.

A shiver ran up my spine. My body rigid, my mind exploding with this swell of pleasure, finding my way back from this was impossible. The more I fought it the greater the anger raged for those who told me this was wrong when it felt so right -
she
felt so right - the more my cock hardened and ignored my silent plea.

My hands reached out on either side and gripped the walls, my knuckles white, my hips falling into the rhythm she commanded, the sounds of her wet mouth suckling, her soft moans of pleasure proving she needed this just as much as me.

“Andrea, stop, please, otherwise I’m going to come.”

Her soft moan echoed; she hummed around me.

My head fell back and that vulnerable side I suppressed rose begging me for this, to let her be, let her have whatever she wanted. The rising bliss sending ripples of nirvana through me and making my muscles tight, my biceps flinch, my fingers tremble with tension.

This was freedom. This had been my way all along. In letting my guard down just long enough to train her, I had let this incredible woman in.

I was falling fast.

Freefalling.

I moaned her name.

My warmth spurted into her mouth and she swallowed me, her frenzied laps and kisses revealing her passion, her own need, her eyes peering up and meeting mine in that exquisite submissive way of hers.

She remained kneeling at my feet, head bowed, that bite to her lip proving she’d hoped she’d pleased me. “Thank you, Master. I needed that more than you know.”

My jaw slackened in surprise.

And I was fucking unshockable.

I lifted her up and carried her over to that small couch, throwing cushions to the floor, and not caring where they fell. I slipped to my knees, hitched up her dress and buried my head between her thighs, pulling her panties out of the way and suckling her sex, knowing this was the last time I’d taste her and wanting her to know how much she meant to me.

She widened her thighs, her hands grabbing a fist full of hair and pulling me into her.

“I need this,” she moaned, “Richard, please don’t stop.”

My tongue was fucking her now, my thumb on her clit, circling. She shivered against me, her groans rising and I slapped my hand over her mouth to quiet her scream when she came, my strumming taking her through another climax. Her back arched, her breath coming in heavy gasps of desire, her thighs trembling, that throaty moan as she came again.

She cupped her face with her hands.

“Come here,” I whispered.

She sat up and wrapped her arms around me, her head resting on mine, her short gasps causing her body to tremble.

A knock at the door.

“We’ll be right out,” I said, and kissed Andrea’s shoulder.

“Just need a few more minutes,” she added.

I rose up on the couch beside her. “You look beautiful.”

“I’m made up like a pancake.”

“That’s why you taste so good.” I grinned.

“I missed you so much.”

“It’s good to see you.”

“More than you’ll ever know.”

I took her hands in mine. “We’ve always been honest with each other.”

“Yes, I love that about us.”

I lowered my head trying to find the right words.

“What’s wrong?”

“At the beginning of our agreement we agreed to a time limit.”

“I’ve been thinking of that, too.”

“Oh, okay. Good.”

“Let’s forget that silly contract.”

“That’s not necessarily a good idea.”

She looked away.

“This is not what you think it is,” I said.

“Then what is it?”

“Please, hear me out.”

She gave a wary nod.

“This is why you have someone like Megan in your life, to protect you from scandal. What would people say if they knew you were with the son of the man who brought New York to its knees?”

“Are you here to end us?”

I squeezed her hands. “You’ve worked so hard to be seen as America’s sweetheart.”

Another knock.

“Please,” I snapped.

Andrea grabbed my hands. “We’ll find a way. I know we will.”

“I’m not sure—”

The door opened and Sienna stepped in with a flushed face and a nervous fluster. I assumed they’d sent her in.

She waved the script she was holding. “Sorry to interrupt.”

I clenched my jaw in frustration. “Tell Megan we’ll be right out.”

Sienna looked at Andrea nervously. “Mr. Mubarak’s ready for you.”

Andrea leaped to her feet. “Were they calling for me?”