18. Eighteen
West felt helpless as Kat ran from the room. Every inch of him wanted to go after her, but he had to deal with the woman who had managed to break into his room first.
He stalked over to the bar, splashing whiskey into a glass, taking a drink, and glaring at her the entire time. Gia was tall and skinny with glowing skin and long blonde hair, although West knew most of it was made up of extensions. As he looked at her, he thought about how much of her was fake, how she had been pushed to reach certain beauty standards, and now that he looked at her, he didn’t find her attractive in the least. Sure, she was still beautiful, but her allure no longer called to him.
Instead he ached for the natural beauty of Kat. Her height fit perfectly in his arms, and her curves hit his hands just right. Her hair, frizzy after days of running around on an island, was just as gorgeous smoothed out, and even more bewitching in braids.
“I ask again, Gia, what are you doing here?”
She walked up to him, her hand slowly moving down his exposed chest. “I was worried about you, of course,” she practically purred.
West removed her hand from his body, completely unmoved by her touch. “Well, as you can see, I am fine and you can leave. I don’t even know how you got in my room.”
She bit her lip coyly. “You’d be amazed what you can get a valet to do for you.”
“I’m not surprised,” he said dryly. “You were always good at getting what you wanted.”
She practically jumped on him, and he took a step back, almost falling onto the bed. “Then why won’t you come back to me?” she pouted, her arms circled around his neck.
“Aren’t you here with Luke?”
“He’s not like you; he doesn’t take care of me the way you did. He’s not nearly as attentive.”
West took her hands from his neck, turning away from the bed, and walked toward the door. “Gia, you’re just not what I want. I told you that a month ago and it still stands true.”
Her look instantly turned cold, the sexy, coy Gia gone. “Oh, but you want that fat girl?”
She was talking about Kat. He couldn’t be bothered to argue that, while Kat wasn’t fat, it wouldn’t have mattered if she was.
“She won’t give you what you want, and you’ll get bored eventually. But don’t come crawling back to me when you do.”
As she neared him, he stepped back. “Get out, Gia, we were done long before Kat, and I want you to stay away from both of us.”
She threw her head back and laughed, but not in a way that suggested she found anything funny.
“Kat? God, West, you really will sleep with anything. That was your little backing singer you went missing with? Oh West, that won’t last. You’ll get bored sweetie; she won’t know the first thing about making you happy. She’s going to want marriage and kids, and a house in the suburbs. What, are you going to drive your kids to soccer? You don’t do those things. You do models and parties. If she really knew who you were she wouldn’t want anything to do with you.”
Gia patted his cheek as she walked out of his room, and his life, hopefully forever. West thought about what she said. She was wrong. Wasn’t she?
He could be all those things Kat wanted; he could be a regular guy and raise a family if that was what they decided to do.
Gia didn’t know the first thing about making him happy, but with Kat, he had laughed, felt free, and could tell her about his worries and doubts. She hadn’t judged him but had pushed him to think about his future. He had to fix this; she had to believe he hadn’t wanted Gia to show up like that.
The thing about clocks is the longer you watch them the slower they move, and tonight Kat felt as if time had stopped entirely. Sick of staring at the clock, she drifted across the carpet to her balcony, like a ghost in the night air. Opening the sliding door, she planted herself on the edge of the patio chair and watched as the city bustled below her, like an endlessly running river, while time stood still.
She kept sneaking glances back at the clock. Thirty minutes had passed since she’d fled from his room. He wasn’t coming to get her, that was apparent. He had probably seen his ex and been like, forget Kat, she’s plain, fat, and old. I need to get back with Gia. A tear slid down her face, and she wiped it away, refusing to let herself be maudlin over something she knew would never happen. Another treacherous tear dripped from her eye, followed by another.
How many times would she cry over this guy? It was ridiculous. She had never cried over a man, and here she was doing it twice in one day. It’s not even like she knew how he felt about her. She realized all too late that she loved him, but he had never professed any kind of feeling for her other than lust, and maybe slightly caring if she died on the island.
She turned back to the clock, her only source of time since she didn’t have a replacement phone yet.
Forty-five minutes.
He wasn’t coming; she was sure of it now. He had to go to the press event.
Kat needed to stop reading romance novels, obviously. She dropped her head in her hands and sang to herself.
Not one of his songs, or even her own, but the tune of “Killing Me Softly” sprang to her mind. That was how she felt, that he was killing her. Music always had a way of distracting her from what bothered her—it was an escape from reality—but more than that it also connected her to her emotions, to her thoughts and needs, and right now it connected with her breaking heart.
She wished she had a new phone and her headphones, because she had the perfect broken-heart playlist to pass the time. She stood up and glanced over the balcony, watching the cars pass below, the lights of the city shining around her. This feeling was exactly why she didn’t take risks because every time she put herself out there and was rejected it hurt like hell.
A knock at the door made her turn. Maybe it was him, but he was supposed to be at the press conference. She walked over and peered through the peephole. West stood outside holding a large stack of books in his arms.
She opened the door, saying nothing. His eyes were full of emotion as he wiped away a single tear from her cheek with his free hand. Stepping inside, the door closed behind him with a soft snick as he gently said, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. It took longer than I thought to get these at this time of night.”
He handed her the books, and Kat read through the titles, “Birds in Song; My Hair, My Power; Fry Bread with Auntie Gwen; We Are Grateful.” She looked up at him. “West, what is this?”
He stepped back and Kat thought he looked nervous, but that was impossible because West was never nervous.
“You said on the island you had a book that influenced you to play the flute that wasn’t even written by someone Native.” He nodded toward the stack in her arms. “These are. They’re you.”
Another tear slid down her cheek, but this time from joy. Her heart had never felt so full in her life. It was the most kind, thoughtful gift anyone had ever given her.
“Do you like them?” His eyes begged her to say yes, and how could she not?
“Of course I do. These are amazing. I don’t even know how you found them.”
He stepped closer, his hand brushing along her arm, and her body shivered. “I saw a bookstore on the way back from my police interview. I stopped in and asked them to gather what they could find. They weren’t thrilled with me when I was back demanding them tonight.”
Kat smiled as she flipped through the pages and saw a picture of a little girl having her hair brushed by her mother. The memory of her mother doing the same thing when she was young came back to her. Kat hadn’t had a haircut until she was eight, despite nagging her mother. She’d wanted a cute cut with bangs just like all the other girls in her midwestern predominantly White school. But her grandmother had explained that Kat’s hair held her memories, dreams, and aspirations. Cutting it could represent the ending of one chapter and the beginning of another. Kat hadn’t really cared back then; she’d just wanted to fit in. She chopped it all off and then cried for a week.
West reached for the stack, pulling one out. “This one is my favorite. It reminds me the most of you.”
The beautiful images of Native women and girls set against fantastical landscapes held her in awe. West flipped to one of the pages. “All the books reminded me of you in one way or another, but this one especially made me think of your connection with nature on the island. How that connection saved my life. How I will never again take that connection for granted.”
Kat read the line from the page West had turned to. “Remember you are one with the earth, one with the animals, and one with the spirit. They connect to you as you to them. Feel their power.”
Kat took a deep breath. “It’s beautiful. Thank you so much, West. I’ve never owned books that represent me.”
Instantly, he had her wrapped in his strong arms. “I’m so sorry. I was going to wait to give them to you, but now seemed the best time. I didn’t know Gia would be there. I sent her away. I promise.” He kissed her head and face between apologies.
She reluctantly pulled herself away just enough for their bodies to no longer touch and moved the book to the desk. He searched her face for an answer and continued talking. “Gia means nothing to me. She talked a valet into letting her in. I told her we’re through . . .”
Kat could feel his sincerity wash over her; his gaze was so intense it burned through her. She backed away from him. She couldn’t think straight so close to him, especially after such a thoughtful gift.
But she found her resolve. “That’s just it. If it’s not Gia, it’s going to be some other woman, and I just can’t stack up to them. I know I can’t.”
He took a step toward her, but she backed away and he stopped his advance. “Kat . . .” Her name on his lips was like a prayer. “Is that what’s been bothering you?”
She bit her lip, holding back the tears. He looked so lost, so hurt. How could he not realize that he would eventually break her heart?
“We’re off the island now. Penny for your thoughts?” he whispered. His hand flexed at his sides. “Don’t hide from me.”
Could she open up to him? She owed him at least a piece of herself.
“Just look at you.” She waved her hand up and down his body. “You’re like a Greek god. You’re Weston fucking Monroe, and I’m just . . . me. The girl you left in that hallway.” She gave a self-deprecating laugh. “I can’t spend the rest of my life comparing myself to every gorgeous woman who comes near you. I’ll never measure up.”
He took a step closer to her, his hand finding hers. His touch sent shivers through her body. “And why would you? In my eyes, none of them will ever measure up to you.”
Her breath hitched as he raised her fingers to his lips and kissed each one. “You don’t mean that, West, you’ll change your mind.” He was standing over her, his fiery gaze burned into her soul, and her skin prickled in anticipation.
“Katrina Nicole Brooks,” he whispered, his lips inches from hers. “Tonight I’m going to show you over and over again how much I desire you and only you, because you are the most gorgeous, selfless, resilient woman I have ever known.”
Before she could respond, he claimed her mouth with a passionate kiss, making her feel weak in the knees and desperate for more. His hands drifted over her body, exploring every curve and valley as if they had all the time in the world.
Kat couldn’t even protest, her arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers digging into his hair. He groaned into her mouth, and she moaned as his hands moved down her back to the zipper. The sound of it slowly being undone left her panting, and she felt the heat of his hand against each inch of skin he revealed. As he removed one shoulder strap, his lips trailed kisses down her neck to her shoulder, where he nibbled at the sensitive area. The other strap soon followed, and her dress slithered down her body until it was a pool at her feet.
West stepped back, his eyes hungrily devouring her exposed body. His voice rumbled, low and controlled. “Are you telling me that all night long you haven’t been wearing panties?” Her body shivered in response.
Kat fought the urge to shield her body from his scorching gaze, but before she could act, he seized her wrists, desire pulsing through his eyes.
“I didn’t have any that worked with my dress,” she said.
A moan of pleasure broke through West’s lips as he gripped her ass cheeks firmly. “God . . . if I’d known earlier I would’ve taken you out in the middle of dinner, bent you over a table, and fucked you right there on the restaurant balcony.”
Her whole body sang just thinking about his dirty words. The music, which had been silent for so long, was now a passionate symphony pulsing through her. Instead of letting her step out of her dress, he cradled her frame in his muscular arms and lifted her effortlessly from the ground. His lips caressed hers as he walked them both to the bed. He went to lay her down.
“Wait.”
He blinked twice, coming out of a haze.
She stood at the edge of the bed, her eyes burning with passion as she whispered, “I’ve been wanting to take this off you all night.” Her hands moved inside his jacket, her fingertips grazing against the soft fabric of his dress shirt. With one smooth movement, she moved her hands up his chest, under the jacket, and slipped it down his arms letting it tumble to the floor behind him. His shirt still hung untucked from earlier, but it was buttoned again.
He locked eyes with her, and she was overcome with longing. There was an unmistakable look of pure desire on his face, making her feel more beautiful and sensual than ever.
Her hands trembled as she undid each of his buttons, agonizingly slow. Her retribution for all the times he’d played with her. When the last button released its grip, she moved her hands up his bare chest, his warmth washing over her and making her feel intoxicated. With one motion, she pushed his shirt off his strong shoulders. A gasp of excitement escaped her as she felt each powerful muscle twitch under her fingertips. He was hers tonight. There were plenty of women who would love to be in her position, and yet tonight he chose her.
He grabbed her with an urgency that made her gasp, and she felt his hardness pressing against her as she allowed him to lift her in the air. His hands moved from her back, unhooking her strapless bra and letting it fall to the floor. Her bare breasts fell into his hands, and he pressed them together, soaking up their warmth with his hands. He growled. “I’m going to ravage you so hard tonight, Kat. I’m going to make you scream out my name until the sun rises, when you’ll be begging me to take you even harder.”
Her eyes widened. “What about the press event?”
His eyes flashed as he lifted her off her feet, laying her on the bed. “I moved it to the morning.”
She laughed as he began his descent down her body, worshipping every inch of her skin with his mouth. “Did you really?”
“Of course. I’m Weston Monroe—I do what I want.” His eyes sparkled as he moved to her chest.
His tongue circled each breast before blowing a hot gust of air across her dusky nipple, driving her wild.
“West,” she cried, begging him for more.
He rewarded her with his mouth, devouring the distended peak as she screamed in pleasure and her body jolted with uncontrollable spasms. His other hand coiled tightly around her other breast, squeezing harshly until delicious pleasure shot to her core. His knee wedged forcefully between her legs, and she pressed down onto it desperately searching for an elusive release.
“Uh-uh, not yet,” he murmured darkly as he moved his leg away. Kat whimpered in frustration. West seemed to be savoring every moment of torturing her, delighting wickedly in her discomfort.
His hands wandered hungrily over her body, exploring every inch of her with a desperate yearning. His mouth left trails of fire everywhere he kissed and licked and nipped. Slowly, he dragged his tongue down her leg and back up her thigh, pausing just shy of her pussy before starting again on the other leg.
Finally, he pressed one finger inside her, and a gasp of pleasure escaped her. She marveled at how good even one finger could feel after all the tantalizing torture he had subjected her to.
A second finger joined the first, and he switched his attention to one of her breasts while still working both fingers in and out of her slick heat. She felt herself tensing like an instrument that was strung too tightly, ready to break if played. Then his mouth moved to tease at her throbbing clit with hungry laps of his tongue—and the string snapped. Uncontrollable waves of pleasure tore through her as she screamed his name in an ecstatic litany, riding out wave after wave of bliss until there was nothing left but contented exhaustion.
As her soul reentered her body, she felt West kiss his way back up. She grabbed at his belt buckle.
“Why do you still have these on?”
“I was too busy trying to get you naked.”
“Off,” she commanded.
He slipped off his belt and pants. In the soft light of the room, inch by tantalizing inch of tanned skin was revealed to Kat, a feast for her eyes. Her thirst grew as her heart raced faster and faster.
West grinned, aware of the effect he had on her. “Like what you see?” he teased breathlessly.
“You have no idea,” she said in a voice barely above a whisper.
He settled next to her body with ease, their skin slick with sweat and desire. “The feeling’s mutual, gorgeous.” His eyes burned into hers with need.
And somehow, she believed him. He made her feel gorgeous, and the expression in his eyes said it all.
His fingers plunged deep inside her again, finding places she hadn’t known existed and eliciting cries of delight that he lapped up. He brought those same fingers to his lips and let out a low moan as he tasted her. “You’re so damn sweet,” he murmured against her skin. “I could have lived off of you on that island.”
He positioned himself at her entrance, and before she could blink he had thrust himself in all the way. She gasped from both shock and pleasure as he moved in and out of her.
West felt her muscles tighten around his cock in slow, devastating pulls. He threw his head back as he pumped into her, never wanting to leave the pure perfection that was her pussy. “Kat! I . . . Oh god, it’s too much!” West had wanted to go slow but while he had been teasing her, he had also been torturing himself. Every inch of glistening golden skin he touched, kissed, and licked sent shockwaves of desire that surged through him until he thought he would burst.
That’s what she did to him, she made him desperate to be with her.
She writhed beneath him, desperate for more. He hooked his leg under hers and flipped them over so she was on top. He wanted to see her take her pleasure. “Ride me, Kat. Take what you need.”
She gazed down into his eyes, pleasure radiating from her face. He moved powerfully beneath her as she rode him, her passion increasing with each thrust.
She threw her head back, lost in ecstasy as each thrust elicited moans of sheer pleasure from deep within her throat, working the pressure until his name escaped her lips, and sending them both to the brink of surrender.
“Take it, Kat. Take all of me,” he commanded while pressing his thumb firmly to her clit. He reveled in the sight of her body as it undulated and twisted in fervid desire, a vision that was only for him to consume and savor. Her curves were luscious and inviting, her ass round and full, her breasts heavy with temptation—all just for him to enjoy and never let go.
As she collapsed onto his chest, their skin met in a symphony of senses as wave after wave of pleasure rolled through her when she came.
“You haven’t finished yet, Kat.”
She groaned in response, her body unable to deny his power over her.
“Yes, you can,” he said more forcefully as he pulled her off the edge of the bed, parted her legs, and positioned himself behind her.
He entered her, pushing himself deep as she writhed in ecstasy calling out his name. Every pump of his hips sent jolts of electricity between them as their bodies slammed together in a passionate harmony that filled the room. He grunted out her name each time his hips sunk deeper and faster.
“Say you’re mine,” he called out as he pounded into her, never to have once claimed a woman in his life, but this time he meant it. He wouldn’t let another man ever touch her again if he could help it.
She moaned and he pushed harder. “Say it.”
“I’m yours,” she said breathlessly as he seemed to come undone, pumping harder and faster.
His hand found its way between her legs and pushed against the bundle of nerves that held all her pleasure, coaxing out one more orgasm as she shook with the force of it. With one final thrust, he felt his own pleasure erupt within him, the intensity of it beyond anything he had felt before as he spilled into her depths, claiming her for himself.
Kat’s body went limp in his arms, and he scooped her up carefully, laying her head on the pillows of the bed. Then he took a towel from the bathroom and gently wiped away the sticky traces of their lovemaking from her thighs.
He climbed into bed beside her, wrapping his entire body around hers as he kissed her tenderly. “Sleep with me tonight?” he whispered against her lips.
She gave a soft laugh in response. “We’ve slept together every night for days.”
“You know what I meant. Now you actually have a choice.”
She nodded. “Tonight.”
He didn’t know what that meant, but they would deal with it in the morning. He let go of her for a second to turn the light off and pulled her back into his arms, letting the feel of her body relax him to sleep.