11. Anastasia
Anastasia
I sip my second martini while Rhett sits by me with a glass of ice water.
Admittedly, I’m still riled up from our last conversation in our rooms. The thought of Rhett bursting through the adjoining door all threatening and hopefully shirtless, no pants, in the middle of the night, only to find me legs spread, fingers deep in myself, aches between my legs even now.
It’s sinful and wrong. He’s my guard. A professional appointed by my father. Yet that only seems to entice me the more I remind myself he’s forbidden. A walking temptation, the devil himself latched onto my side. There’s something so twisted with me.
I can hardly look at Rhett, but for the sake of our ruse his chair is intimately close to mine, our thighs near touching.
“Does your father know you beat Adam at your college debate?” Rhett asks. He doesn’t hide his satisfaction, which blooms in my chest.
“I didn’t mention it,” I say. It was a very close result, the votes cast by our classmates for whichever side they were more compelled toward. But still, it felt damn good to beat him.
“Why not?”
I shrug. “He has a far more serious and real one tomorrow. He didn’t need to hear of my child’s play.”
“Of course he should,” Rhett says, sounding almost angry. When I turn my head our faces are in close proximity too. “Your wins matter, Ana, however small. And you were incredible in that debate.”
A flutter erupts in my stomach at his sincerity.
My parents sometimes ask about my schoolwork, but in the grand scheme of what my father does for a living, all that matters to them is that I pass.
They mean well. They try to appear supportive.
I’ve long convinced myself I don’t need my triumphs celebrated.
I take another drink. “There was one class, Roman studies, where I passed with the highest mark in my class. Even above Riley and Nolan, our class whizzes. I told my parents and they merely smiled and said, ‘That’s great, honey.’ I didn’t expect much, but I was proud of myself for it. That’s all that matters, I guess.”
At the time, their lack of enthusiasm and understanding of what it meant to me stung, but I couldn’t expect them to praise me for something that wasn’t a grand achievement really. I quickly let it go.
“They should be so damn proud,” he says with a furrowed brow.
I huff a laugh to brush it off. “I don’t think I’ve heard that before, actually. I know they love me and they encourage me, but they’ve never said they’re proud, and I’ve always just thought I’m not there yet. I haven’t done anything that life-changing or amazing to be proud of yet.”
“I don’t believe that even for a second. I’m proud of you just seeing how you conquered that debate despite the nerves I watched tear you apart before it. Do they even know about that?”
“They had to console me after a breakdown performing my violin at the Christmas party when I was seventeen, but I think they assume it’s something I’ve grown out of despite me still refusing to play again every year.”
“Ana.” His hand takes mine before I can reach for my glass again. He searches my eyes as if he doesn’t know which words he wants to follow up with, but something disturbs him. “I see you.”
I’ve never felt such an impact from three small words.
Seven letters that fill a void I didn’t realize was vacant in me.
A sentence so short, but I long hear to it again.
What is he doing? Nestling into parts of me I can’t afford to find comfort in, because Rhett is a temporary placement in my life.
I swallow hard, bringing the martini glass to my lips. “Are you sure you can’t join me for a drink? You’re too serious all the time and I’m trying to enjoy my buzz.”
He takes his hand back, but his expression gives so little away, and I hate the sinking feeling in my gut.
It’s better this way. Rhett is a mere want, a stroke of silly desire any woman would crave.
Just as I think this, a dark seed of jealousy at the thought of him with someone else grows a dangerous root.
“Hey, Ana. I was wondering when I’d run into you.” Adam’s voice breaks our tension from behind me.
I swallow my groan as he leans on the bar beside me and orders a whiskey on the rocks. “Can’t say I gave you the same headspace.”
He smiles arrogantly. “Will you be at the beach tomorrow? There’s a volleyball tournament going on. Excellent press opportunity.”
“We were just planning our day around it,” I say sweetly.
Adam’s gaze flicks over my shoulder to Rhett, then back to me. I don’t like the way he clearly has observations he’s leaving unspoken.
“Speaking of press ...” Adam drawls, picking up his glass.
I swivel to follow his line of sight. Sure enough, our fathers have come down to the bar and there are now a bunch of reporters being kept back by security.
The other patrons in the venue take notice of the presidential candidates, then a few linger looks on us as if they’re only now realizing who we are.
The attention pricks over my spine and I resist the urge to shrink into Rhett like a human shield.
“Want to head back up?” Rhett asks close to my ear. I shiver at his warm breath caressing my nape.
Nodding, I don’t bother finishing my martini before we leave.
“See you tomorrow, A,” Adam calls.
I don’t look back.
Rhett leads me with a hand on my back, but as soon as we’re near them, the reporters start following with their cameras like snapping piranhas, and their questions are fired at us. What interest am I in any of this?
“Anastasia, can you pose with your boyfriend for a photo?”
I freeze, wondering what Rhett makes of all this.
It’s not what he signed up for when he took the job.
Guilt wracks me to think the facade of being branded his girlfriend could be upsetting him, just like how he once struggled with touching me.
Always reminding him of his lost fiancée. Does he resent me for it?
“Just one photo, Ana!”
“We don’t need to,” I say to him.
“Do you want to?” he asks.
“It’ll keep them satisfied. But you’re more important.”
His brow flinches at that and I can’t read his deliberation.
“I know what I signed up for,” he assures me.
I nod, but it doesn’t untangle my sorrow for him. We turn, allowing them to snap the shot of us together, but I feel so terribly stiff, not knowing how to react when Rhett doesn’t want this.
“Relax,” he says in my ear.
“How long have you been dating?” a reporter asks.
“I— Uh, around six months now, I think,” I answer like a stumbling idiot.
Rhett’s hand tightens on my waist. “We met over the summer,” he adds. “It was hard to entice a date out of her, but she fell for my charm eventually.”
Is that so? Okay, Mr. Charmer.
“You can’t really blame me when his pretty face is the best of his chat-up lines.”
That earns some chuckles and a daring squeeze from Rhett that sparks a thrill straight between my legs. Some of the tension in my body dissolves under the desire he ignites so easily in me.
“Can we get a kiss?” another asks. Everyone turns eager, hungry for it.
Shit. I hadn’t thought about that, and every reporter is suddenly desperate for the chance to snap that first shot. I look up at Rhett. He’s turned taut against me.
“They’ve got enough,” I say quietly to him. I take his hand, ready to dismiss the request that was crossing a line anyway.
Rhett becomes immovable, and I still. He’s warring with himself in those ocean eyes as they search mine. Then his smile lights up my chest. It’s not fully there, but it’s enough, as his arm curves around me tighter.
“You don’t have to do this,” I whisper when his lips hover over mine.
“I want to,” he says. “Fuck, I want to.”
His hand cups my jaw, and I’m not prepared for the need that detonates between us. My body curves into him as my mind is lost to him.
Maybe he feels a fraction of it too, because his arm presses me tighter to him and our kiss doesn’t end quickly, nor is it chaste or just enough to satisfy the picture op.
It turns to something that drowns out the clicks and murmurs behind us with the blood rushing in my ears.
Rhett kisses me hard and passionately, and I open to the sweep of his tongue against my lower lip.
His hand clenches my nape as if he’s refraining from devouring me right here, and I become lightheaded.
He pulls away suddenly, holding my eyes with bewilderment as if he doesn’t know what came over him either. Then he masterfully composes himself, plastering on his fake smile before taking my hand. We give a short wave goodbye to the press before slipping into the elevator.
The silence is charged with all that was cut off so abruptly between us.
I can’t be sure if he’s just as affected when any slight glance I steal reveals his typical stone-faced exterior.
Shit , it upset him. Of course it did. Should I apologize?
No—that would make this torturous climb of twenty-three floors even more awkward.
“They can be, uh–– I mean, they don’t have a care for modesty or boundaries,” I say.
I should have stayed silent.
“We didn’t talk about needing to kiss every now and then to keep it believable. I’m sorry if I stepped out of line.”
“You didn’t,” I say quickly. “It was fine. Nice, actually.”
What the fuck, Ana? I want to slap myself. I want to slap him , unfairly, but it’s true. I want to slap him in this moment for making me feel like a girl hanging out with her crush for the first time.
“Nice?” He quirks a brow, finding amusement in my flustered choice of words.
“Your ego doesn’t need more than that.”
He gives a light chuckle edged with darkness. “Your body told me everything I need.”
“We had an audience and a show to put on.”
Rhett pushes off from where he’s leaning back against the wall. I don’t expect him to erase all personal space in front of me and I tip my chin back.
“What about now?” he says in a low, husky tone. “I’ve never done anything nice in my life, Miss Kinsley. Don’t make me prove it to you.”
This man is all dares and challenges. His mood switches give me whiplash. Yet at the same time my adrenaline races with pleasure for it. The uncertainty of him. How it’s like he’s always one push away from erupting and I hold the detonator.
The elevator opens behind him and two men shuffle in. I almost relax, thinking he’ll put some distance between us with the company, but Rhett doesn’t move. Instead his eyes turn dark and a smile tugs his mouth as it slants, inching closer to mine.
Heart slamming in my chest, my eyes flick up just as the numbers switch to our floor and the elevator dings open again. Rhett’s lips barely graze mine before he takes my hand and leads me out.
What the fuck was that?
In a daze, I only follow until we reach our rooms, where I watch Rhett pace mine in silence. At my door he turns back, wholly unfazed, as if nothing in the past twenty minutes happened.
“Remember, little bird. Scream only if you need me.”
If the bed were on fire I’d throw myself into it right now. There’s no winning against Rhett Kaiser when he’s so insinuating with his words that leave me speechless. He takes his leave in triumph.
I strip for bed and debate sleeping naked.
Cali is hot as shit, and Rhett fucking Kaiser has only heated my skin more now I can’t stop thinking about him just beyond that door.
He’s always slept across the hall at home, but there’s something more enticing about being in a hotel room. Like all rules are on the table and?—
Shit, am I really debating sleeping with my guard?
It’s completely inappropriate, not to mention shameless, that I even think he’d be interested.
It would just be sex. No strings attached.
But then I remember how he could hardly stand to touch me when we first met.
He’s getting better. He had to force himself to for this job, and that weighs in me with disappointment.
Of course he wouldn’t want to fucking sleep with me.
I huff out of nothing more than sexual frustration and throw myself onto the bed.
Before I know it I’m slipping a hand down my body, squeezing my breast in the other, and for just one sinful night I imagine it’s his hands over me.
I picture him naked right beyond that wall, pumping himself to thoughts of me too.
I’m so damn wet at the thought of one sound too loud exposing me.
His warning wasn’t a tease—I have no doubt he’d burst in without a thought and find me spread out on this bed touching myself.
Would he join? Take over? Fuck , I want it so badly I’m becoming a puddle, biting my lip hard to suppress my moans as I circle my clit.
Curving two fingers into myself, I wish I had a toy to help, but I quickly scratch that thought when the image of Rhett’s wicked face between my thighs drives me toward my climax just as fast. Tasting me, slipping his fingers inside me.
I know I’m punishing myself as I’ll have to face him tomorrow, after this, but right now I’m so close to crying out his name as it tips onto my tongue.
Waves of bliss crash over me and I throw my head back with a silent cry.
When my trembling subsides I lie there panting and gathering myself, wondering how I came to be this lust-crazed fool for someone I can’t have.
There’s a line between us and I have to reinforce it, then set fire to it.
For good measure I’ll even throw gasoline on it to make sure there’s no way of crossing it.
I will do that. Tomorrow. But tonight I’m not finished sating my fantasy. Not when Rhett Kaiser is lying unaware—or perhaps all-knowing—on the other side of that door and I’m the most turned on I’ve ever been in my life.