Chapter 15 Kolton
Kolton
There is no getting used to seeing Sloane Rivera in her various stages of undress.
Finding her on that chair with her legs spread wide, and nothing but a small patch of lace covering everything under her short skirt from view, was much like seeing her dance on stage during her concerts.
Sure, she usually wore more than just a tiny thong on stage, but I found it no less intriguing.
Worse still was finding her staring at the screen that was paused on a picture of us, my hand sliding up her back as I kept her closer to my side than I probably needed to.
Fuck.
I got hard just thinking about the feel of her smooth skin under my fingertips. It was getting more difficult every day we were together to keep space between us when all I really wanted to do was hold her in my arms. Maybe kiss her. Maybe do other things.
Shit. I needed to remember that—no matter how much I might have wanted otherwise—Sloane was my client.
I needed to stop getting lost in the quiet smiles she sent my way, the way she lingered close when we were out.
I couldn’t think about her reaching for me when she got overwhelmed in public, or the way she sat a little too close to me, or the way she fell asleep on my shoulder every time we rode on a plane or train or sometimes even the hired cars, like my presence was wanted or needed in some way.
She didn’t care about me like that. She didn’t want me like that.
She’d proved that more often than not, storming away from me with as much distaste as she’d shown the moment she realized I was her bodyguard and not just some loony fan.
This desire I felt was a one-way street and there would never be anything that could turn her affection toward me.
For her, I was just the guy she got stuck with and had to put up with every day.
I’d never been more thankful for the cold shoulder Sloane gave me when she walked off to her bedroom.
It gave me the time I needed to get myself under control.
I adjusted my pants. Thought of the traffic from the baseball game we were sure to hit if we didn’t get a move on, and then what routes I might take instead.
This concert was important to Sloane. I’d heard her talking to her mom and her sister about it a lot. To Olivia and Monica too. And those little kids…
Those little kids didn’t need to see me sporting a boner as I thought about Sloane in nothing but her underwear.
“Shit!” I wiped a hand down my face before adjusting my aching dick once more. I needed something. I needed to think…
Clowns. The white faces. The huge red smiles. Cotton candy colored hair and clothes that came right out of my nightmares. Huge shoes and ugly gloves and bags full of things that would lure little kids to them, like candy and toys and red balloons.
There, that would do it. Nothing like thinking of one of the things that scared me more than anything to get myself under control.
My entire body shuddered.
Looking around our hotel suite, my shoulders grew tight. My legs began to shake. I wanted to scream, not because I could easily picture those clowns dancing around this room, stealing my breath and my soul, but because I was a grown-ass man who shouldn’t be afraid of all the things I was afraid of.
But I was, and my racing heart wouldn’t listen to reason any more than my brain could.
God, I was stupid. Who wanted a bodyguard who was fucking terrified of clowns, or bugs, or snakes, or rodents, or a million other things that freaked me the fuck out?
Was there anyone more pathetic than me in this world?
Kendra would tell me no.
I shook my head, tried to get rid of the sinking feeling in my stomach.
I’d felt off since I stepped out into the hall a bit ago to talk to my sisters.
Kendra was at it again, teasing me, telling me this was a mistake, that I was going to fail and she’d be there to tell me she was right when I came crawling back to them, begging for help.
And with that taunting came all the memories of the things she’d done over the years that made me the way I was—scared and shaking over the littlest of things.
Grabbing the chair at the breakfast nook, I sat down and put my head between my legs.
I tried breathing the way my therapist had taught me when I was a kid.
I talked to myself aloud, saying things like, “They’re not real.
They can’t hurt you because they’re not really here.
” And I hoped the entire time that I wouldn’t have to explain what the hell I was doing, hyperventilating over the mere thought of something that didn’t exist.
By the time Sloane came out of her bedroom, I was only slightly less on edge.
I’d handed over her water—the caffeine would help fend off the migraine until her medicine kicked in—and ushered her out into the hallway.
Any arousal I’d felt earlier had gone running for the hills long before we made it through the door.
“I take it you saw the news?” I asked gently, stepping up beside her, my hand on her back more to steady myself than for her.
She swung her head in my direction, and by the look on her face, I knew the answer before she said it. “About their engagement? Yes.”
I stopped her with a hand on her arm, tugging her close despite the snap of her voice. “Don’t pay attention to them, okay? That’s all they want. Attention. They see how amazing you are and how great you are without them, and they can’t stand the thought of it.”
She rolled her eyes, but she took a step closer, and a tiny smile crossed her lips.
A smile that dropped when she returned her attention to me.
“I’m just so tired of it. It’s like he’s trying to one-up me with everything he does.
A night out for me equals a public spectacle for him.
A talk show for me equals a whole new wardrobe and a makeover for Brooklyn.
Did you see her? She doesn’t look a thing like she used to, like he’s changed everything about who she used to be. And I just—”
“Hey, hey.” She was shaking, her nose red and her eyes glassy.
Curling my arm around her shoulders, I tugged her into my chest to try to give her some comfort while I tried to steal just a little for myself.
I pulled the purple handkerchief I’d started carrying out of my pocket and handed it to her to wipe her eyes.
She sighed against me, leaned her forehead on my chest. “Everything’s going to be okay. ”
“That’s easy for you to say.” She sniffed and edged back. Straightened her shoulders and handed me the purple cloth. “You’re not the one whose life he’s trying to ruin.”
“He’s not going to ruin your life.” I swiped her hair from her cheek, turning her face up to mine. “I won’t let him.”
She blinked. Dipped her chin and pulled away. When she wrapped her arms around herself and took a step forward, I tried another way.
“Chin up, Diva. Don’t let them drag you down. This concert isn’t about the media attention, remember? It’s for the kids.”
“I know,” she snapped, quickening her pace until it felt like she was running away. I was going to lose her. I was going to fail, and it would all be over. I chased after, heart thumping hard as we closed in on the elevator doors.
Irritation, then apprehension, flowed through me when Sloane stabbed the down button before I could get to it, and the doors opened before I was ready.
She stepped on and I had to blink away the white-painted faces that floated in front of me as every hair on the back of my neck rose.
When Sloane turned her dark brown eyes my way, I felt the same way she was looking at me: Like I was an idiot.
Sucking in a deep breath, I stepped over the threshold into the elevator beside her and willed my heart to slow.
This time, I beat her to the buttons on the wall, stabbing the one marked Lobby a split second before she reached it.
Her fingers jabbed mine instead, and despite the brutality of that touch, I couldn’t help but notice the way she paused.
Paused, as her fingers lingered on mine. As her pretty brown eyes lifted from the button to my face. As fucking tingles raced up my arm and along my spine, starting at the point where our skin touched.
Like this was one of those cheesy vampire movies my sisters forced me to watch.
Like a zap of energy could flow between us with just a touch.
Sloane’s face twitched. First her lips, then the skin near the corners of her eyes. Like she was trying to smile but didn’t know how to go about it.
“Are you okay?” I asked, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. My fingers lingered there as I watched her eyes droop shut the way they did when I’d rubbed her head earlier.
Sloane nodded slightly. Tilted her head into the press of my hand until she was leaning into me like she had in the hall.
She was so fucking beautiful it hurt. The pain I could see in her eyes, on her face, made me want to erase the past for her, take those assholes out of the picture and leave her nothing but the happiness I could feel was missing from her life.
I moved closer, wrapped my arm around her waist. I couldn’t help it. This woman was amazing in everything she did, and I needed her to know that. I needed her to see that they were nothing while she was everything.
Everything to me.
The elevator doors slid shut, and the car jolted as it started to descend.
The movement rocked the both of us, and Sloane reached out as I slammed my hand against the wall for support.
She grabbed my waist as if trying to stop her fall, pressing into me like I could hold her up with just one hand.
Those tingles sparked across my skin once more, and the erection I’d gotten rid of back in the hotel room threatened to rise again as her breaths lifted her chest and her breasts rubbed against me.
“Sorry.” It wasn’t much more than a whisper, and I watched that word fall from her lips as my thoughts drifted once more to indecent things.
Sloane is your client, I reminded myself, the thought triggered by her apology.
I was supposed to be protecting her, not dreaming of climbing between her legs and tasting what was under that little patch of lace.
Not thinking of stripping her of these tiny little clothes and bringing a smile to her face by treating her like the goddamn diva she was.
It was best if I brushed this off like I always did.
If I pretended whatever the fuck this was, wasn’t really happening.
Because it wasn’t. It couldn’t. She didn’t like me like that and touching her this way, in any way, wasn’t my right no matter how badly I might want it.
No matter how beautiful she was, how close she was.
No matter how her gaze or her hands lingered, no matter how much I wanted them to.
I tongued at the inside of my cheek, then put on my best smile, intending to ease away my discomfort as much as to bring comfort to her.
Only, her attention dropped to my mouth, and her lips parted on a quiet breath.
I swore I watched heat flow through her eyes, like those racy dragon shifter books Kendra forced me to read.
I could imagine literal flames flickering in her dark irises the way the dragons did when they saw their crush.
Clearly, I was on something. I had to be. The thought of Sloane Rivera having a crush on anyone, let alone some poor schmuck like me, was about as absurd as pigs sprouting wings and flying to the moon.
Sloane retracted her hand from the wall of buttons, her fingers trailing along the bare skin on my arm as she moved.
And fuckity fuck fuck, I was going out of my fucking mind.
Because those fingers wrapped around my bicep, and her breasts rubbed against me again.
And the raging fucking boner in my pants felt like it was trying to get free.
She licked her lips, and I tracked her pink tongue as it slipped across the red that stained those plush cushions. My heart skipped about a thousand beats when her eyelids fluttered, and she lifted her gaze to mine and lifted onto her toes. “I didn’t—”
She didn’t finish that sentence. Her eyes widened as her hand tightened, and our bodies were thrown together as the elevator jarred and came to an abrupt stop. We were cast into darkness, only the dimmest red glow emitting from the emergency light overhead.
“What the hell?”