Hard & Fast (Rules to Break #1) (4 page)

“Fuck, wait.”

He reaches into the pocket of his pants and pulls out a package, ripping it apart with his teeth. He slides the condom on, and I dig my fingers into his hips, urging him to hurry, please hurry.

He yanks my panties aside and shoves inside me in one fluid motion. I cry out with relief as he fills me with his shockingly hard cock.

“You like that?” The rumble of his voice against my neck sends electricity racing through me. I tremble, but instead of fucking me harder, he drives into me with achingly slow thrusts until I’m begging him,
please
, as his fingers and mouth tease, grope, search and that aching pressure builds and builds. He keeps his eyes open as he fucks me, and I don’t think anything has ever been so erotic, so sexy, and I’m climbing, climbing, soaring.

Someone bangs on the door, and I jump. My eyes meet Cole’s. His jaw tenses and he clears his throat.

“What?” he calls, his voice tight and strained.

A flustered female responds, “Alan really would like you to return to the set.”

“I’m busy right now,” he answers.

I cling to Cole, practically vibrating as I fight the urge to grind myself into his cock to finish the job. My legs are shaky and unstable beneath me, and I know that if it weren’t for him pressing me into the door, I wouldn’t be able to stand.

“He’s really insistent that you come back,” the woman says nervously.

Cole squeezes his eyes shut as if in physical pain. He groans. “Fine. Give me a minute.”

He pulls out of me and yanks his pants up over his dick with the condom still on, then retreats to a bathroom. I shiver against the sudden cold and wrap my ruined shirt around myself, my groin still pulsing with need.

Cole’s out of the bathroom a moment later. “Sorry,” he says. “I’ll get you a new shirt.”

“It’s fine,” I mutter, still stunned at what just happened.

“You can find a T-shirt to wear home.”

I nod.

He gestures at the door, and I realize he needs to pass. I stumble aside, and then he’s gone.           

I heave for breath, goosebumps flashing over my damp skin as my body cools. What just happened?

Minutes pass and I still don’t move.

I think I made a big mistake.

My phone buzzes, and I fumble in my purse to retrieve it: Cole. Hope flutters in my heart like the wings of a caged bird.

         Please make dinner arrangements for two for tonight.

I smile.

Then another text comes through.

         And tell my mother I’ll pick her up at six instead of six-thirty.

Chapter Four

I’m standing in the living room when Cole gets back to his house three hours later. I’ve been sitting, standing, pacing, waiting since I crept out of that trailer, hiding behind my hair and praying nobody would notice I came out wearing a different top than the one I went in with.

I’ve picked up my phone thirty different times to call Kate, but I just can’t tell her what I’ve done since I moved in to Cole’s house. She might not even believe me—I can barely believe myself.

As soon as I got back, I threw all my clothes in the wash and showered. Not because I didn’t like smelling like Cole and sex, but because I liked it a dangerous amount.

It will never happen again. Never.

And then came the utter humiliation of being reduced to staff two second later. This isn’t me. I’ve never had sex with someone I only met two days ago. I’ve never had sex with someone I wasn’t dating. And I’ve certainly never had sex like that. I rip my thoughts away from the animal look in his eyes and focus as Cole’s key turns in the door.

Heat burns up and, to my horror, down, as he steps in and throws his keys on a side table. “Rose,” he says, in a slightly surprised way, like he wasn’t expecting his assistant to be waiting for him. “Problem with the reservations?”

I swallow, completely mortified all over again. “No,” I say, running my sweating hands down the pants I chose. They’re too hot for this weather, but I felt like I needed them.

“Can we . . . talk?”

Cole’s mouth pulls up at the corner. “Sounds ominous. Should I sit down?”

No, but I probably should. My legs don’t feel like they’ll hold me up at all. I move so the black leather sofa is between me and Cole, who’s come into the room now and seems to be sucking all the air out of it. 

“Look,” I blurt, before my heart starts banging any harder and I pass out. “About what happened back there. That was so totally out of character for me that I don’t even know where to start and I just . . . I just wanted to tell you that. You’re my employer, and—” I lose my train of thought. Cole’s head is tilted down a little, but his green eyes are boring into me and even though I’m ridiculously hot in the outfit I put on, a shiver goes through me. “It won’t happen again,” I finish, lamely. Then I stand there, uncomfortable and hyperaware of him at the same time.

He doesn’t say anything, and as the seconds tick by, I start feeling annoyed. I smother it. I’m not about to let him see that he winds me up in all the ways I can be wound up. No, I shouldn’t have done what I did, but neither should he. Clearly it’s nothing to him to have sex with any female that crosses his path, but I’m better than that.

“It won’t happen again,” I repeat, this time sounding firm and looking right at him.

He’s studying me with an unreadable look. Then his gaze drops down my body and back up again. “Fine,” he finally says, as if I just asked if he wanted pizza. I don’t know how it makes me feel.

He throws himself down on one of the sofas.
“I have to ask you, though, why is it such a huge deal? It’s just sex, Rose.”

Just hearing him say the word sends a hot flash through me. But I come to sit on the sofa opposite. He doesn’t work the same way I do. The way he sent those texts barely a minute after he said “God, I want you” is proof of that and I shouldn’t have been so naïve. I never usually am. If I make him understand, we can get past this.

“Look, my parent’s run a hardware store in a little town in Illinois. They didn’t raise me to do things I haven’t thought through properly. They didn’t work hard all my life so I could just compromise all my principles now.”

Cole leans forward, his forearms resting on his knees, dark hair falling forward. “And enjoying yourself is against your principles?”

“No, and that’s not what I said.” My blouse is getting damp on my back. Damn, he’s like a magnet and my body’s threatening to let him pull me right in. “Having sex with my boss is against my principles and I don’t want you to think it means I want or need anything from you. Except a job.”

“Why would I think that? You haven’t asked me for anything.” He smiles, and it looks innocent, but I’ve seen the wolf just underneath more than once now. But then he leans back abruptly and laces his fingers behind his head. “Did you work in the hardware store too?”

“What? I—Well, yes. Every summer and after school too most days.”

“But not now,” he says. “Now you’re in L.A. And they have someone else working in the store. Sister? Brother?”

I shake my head. The truth is I don’t know who they have working there instead of me, or even if they have anyone at all. My phone calls home have been infrequent and what you might call strained since I announced my plans and packed my bags.

Cole’s expression is thoughtful. Turns out his gaze can do more than set me on fire, because right now
,
it seems to be trying to read me. “You had some papers with you on set today. Something you were working on, and I don’t think it was for me. What was it?”

My back stiffens. The screenplay.
My
screenplay. “I’ve been available 24/7 haven’t I? Done everything you asked? It was nothing. And it certainly won’t get in the way of me working for you.”

Cole holds his hands up in mock surrender. “Hey, I’m not expecting you to share your every secret with me. Just asking, that’s all.”

God, I can’t react to anything this man does appropriately. I just wanted to keep my acting and writing work separate from this job with Cole. And this is why what happened in that trailer can’t happen again. I’m very definitely not looking at the way his muscles flex when he puts his hands back behind his head.

“Okay,” I say. “I’m sorry. And I think we’re clear now.” I stand up. “Is there anything else you need me to do today?”

“Yes, there is. You need to be ready for nine and you’ll want to be dressed in something nice. I’ll be picking you up after dinner with my mom.”

“I-I had plans tonight.”

“Plans?”

I hesitate. I had an acting class at the V. But I can’t tell him that.

He waits, and when I don’t answer, he shrugs one shoulder. “Didn’t you just get through telling me you’ve been available 24/7? That was in the job ad, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” I say.

Cole checks his watch and gets up. “So . . . are these plans important?”

“I’ll be ready at nine,” I say, heading for the stairs.

“Rose?”

I turn to look at him.

“It really isn’t a big deal, and nothing has to happen ever again if you don’t want it to.” His expression is totally sincere, more serious than I think I’ve ever seen him. And I guess he’s trying to be nice, but the casual way he’s acting about the whole thing stings.

I give him a curt nod and carry on up to my room.

~

When headlights swing onto the driveway at nine sharp, I stand with my clutch grasped too tight in my hands. I tried on and discarded five dresses before the one I’m wearing now and pinned my hair three different ways after I decided on the dress.

I consoled myself about the acting class I’m missing by thinking about the audition I have tomorrow morning. I still have to ask Cole if I can take the time off to go. I’ll pick up breakfast on the way back and who knows, maybe I’ll even get the part. The familiar longing for it, deep down in the heart of me rises when I think about it. I shake it off and focus on getting through tonight.

Cole jumps out of the limo, but I’m already closing the front door. I want to be completely professional tonight. I turn to face him. “Mr. Dean.”

“Miss Weatherston,” he says, and the words fall out of his mouth in a distracted way. His eyes rake over me slowly and linger on the sky-high heels I’m wearing.

I get impatient. Yes, I know I’m not tan and blonde like everyone else in L.A. seems to be, but I can hardly help having milk-white skin with hair as red as mine is. I walk to the car where the driver’s holding the door for me. I’m not going to ask Cole if I dressed up nicely enough for him.

The doors shut and we’re alone in the back of the limo.

“Where are we going?” I ask as the driver pulls around in a circle to descend to the gates.

Cole shakes his head. “Supperclub. Birthday of a friend of mine. You look incredible by the way.”

I squash the little thrill that rushes through me. I picked a simple black dress that covers me from neck to mid-thigh, but the material shimmers and the shape of it drapes my body perfectly. It’s elegant and it makes me feel confident. I’m more concerned by what he just said, though, and I cut him a sharp glance.

“Can I ask why you need an assistant at a club?” I’m on edge, suddenly. Am I on a date? Or will I just be fetching drinks for him all night?

Cole smiles, stretching his legs out. “Don’t worry. All my assistants escort me to clubs. It’s just part of the job.”

I try to imagine Val sitting here next to him. More alarming is the thought of just how many assistants he’s worked his way through.

“Would it be alright if I ran a personal errand early tomorrow? I should be back before you need me to do anything.”

Cole tilts his head, and I wonder if I’m going to have to lie about the audition. “Sure,” he says.

I don’t speak for the rest of the journey, just look out of the tinted window and imagine that the limo’s mine. I get the part tomorrow and worrying about rent or having to keep this job disappears into the distant past when everyone starts wanting me for bigger and bigger roles—

“Rose?” Cole touches my shoulder and I startle.

He grins. “We’re here.”

The limo has pulled around to a back entrance you wouldn’t even know was part of a club, but the door is already open, a smiling woman waiting for us. I see her eyes change as Cole gets out of the car, but she recovers herself in seconds and ushers us into the building. Music comes through the floor and I wonder if the club is underneath us.

We’re handed glasses of champagne, but when I turn, I notice Cole didn’t take his. Alarm must register on my face because he waves his hand like it’s fine. I take a tiny sip, bubbles fizzing on my tongue, and we follow the woman down twisting steps. The music gets louder and I realize it sounds like jazz. Not what I was expecting.

But as we step out into a subtly lit, low ceilinged room, I see that the place is done out like a speakeasy. There’s a live band on a low stage, and some of the guests and all of the staff are even dressed up in 20s costume. Cigar girls with trays hanging around their necks and their hair in pin curls wander around handing out drinks. A woman walks past, her beaded flapper dress sashaying as she moves. She winks at Cole and gives him a wave with one slim, silk glove clad hand.

My stomach tightens and I take another, bigger sip from my glass. I recognize so many of the faces here and they are all stunning. I don’t know why Cole brought
me here. Surely he doesn’t need assisting in having a good time in a place like this. As soon as I think that, I rephrase it in my head, because I will
not
be thinking about Cole or having a good time. Not anymore.

“Relax,” Cole says in my ear. His breath sends a shiver across my skin. “All you need to do is stick with me. Have a drink, if you want to. It’s fine.”

“You’re not having a drink,” I say, totally conscious of his body behind mine.

“Don’t think my sponsor would approve,” he says, with a smile.

Oh.
Oh
. I remember the headlines when he went into rehab. How could I have forgotten? “I’m sorry. I don’t need this,” I say, looking for somewhere to offload my drink.

“Hey, what did I say? It’s fine.” He stills my hand on the glass, fingers over mine. “If you want a drink, you have one. You think I don’t get exposed to this and worse on a daily basis in my line of work? I’m okay with it. Really.”

I nod. “Okay, Mr. Dean.” I finish the glass,
but when a waiter appears, I decline the next one and leave the empty on his tray instead.

Without a glass in my hand, I don’t know what to do with myself, standing at Cole’s side. He can barely take a step without someone wanting to talk to him and my cheeks start to ache from all the polite smiling. A lot of it is business talk, which is interesting, but I feel out of place and it’s not like I can give my expert point of view on any of it anyway.

Eventually, I decide I need a break, and when a stunning woman calls out Cole’s name loudly, I quickly ask, “Where’s the bathroom?”

Cole points it out and I make my way through the crowd. I glance back. Cole’s talking to birthday girl,
Casey Devenport. Yes,
the
Casey Devenport, who is so incredibly beautiful in real life I almost don’t know where to look. Next time I meet up with Kate, tonight is going to make for a good story if nothing else.

I push through the door into the biggest bathroom I’ve ever seen. It’s done out like an old-fashioned backstage dressing room – chaise lounges, strips of lights around the big mirrors behind the sinks, and even racks of dresses and feather boas against the walls.

I’m washing my hands afterwards when I hear a click. I look up to see Cole behind me in the mirror. He steps forward fast, pushing his body against mine. His chest is hot and hard against my back and his gaze in the mirror pins me in place. Fire shoots down my stomach. I can’t look away.