I turn to face her and take her hands in mine. “Listen to me, okay? I want you to really listen. I know this is scary, Annie. I know. The first time I was ever followed…” I lift my brows and chuckle softly under my breath. “Let’s just say, once I was through the situation, I almost had to buy myself a new pair of jeans.”

  She gives me a half smile, and the sadness in her face makes my heart drop.

  I meet her eyes. “I know how terrifying this is. You feel violated and vulnerable because some cocksucker has access to you, and you don’t know what the fuck they want, where they will pop up next.” I release her hands and smooth a few loose hairs back from her worried face. “You’re looking over your shoulder constantly… It fucking sucks. I get that. But you’re not defenseless, Annie. You’ve got me. I’m here for you. And I’m sure as shit not going to let anything happen to you. Not while there’s breath in my body. Do you hear me?”

  Her sky-blue eyes fill with tears, but she blinks them back and nods. “I’m scared, but more than that, I’m angry now,” she whispers. “This is my life. I want it back. I want to think about my dad and have totally normal worries… Is he dealing with grumpy clients or a bad mood? I can’t deal with all the secrets and danger. I want this to end, Josh. What do we do to make this stop?”

  Whether she’s ready or not, it’s time to share my theory. I ask Annie to pull up Neveah’s social media. She does, then shows me a well-curated feed of artsy shit.

  I look at the follower count, the date of the first and most recent posts, and the noticeable lack of pictures of Neveah. Yeah, there are some recent ones of her wearing sunglasses, bright lipstick, hats, and shit to cover part or all of her face. But everything else on the profile could be fake.

  “I don’t think Neveah is who she says she is.” As I admit this, I point to the feed on Annie’s phone. “I doubt she would have had to spend even five hundred bucks to buy an aged account like this. It may have even come with the name Neveah.”

  Annie’s face turns from worried to shocked. Her lips part, and she squints at me. “What do you mean? What the hell is an aged account?”

  I explain how people can buy social media accounts. Accounts that give the impression you’re a certain person. You can get almost anything for a price. You can make yourself look like an influencer with tens of thousands of followers. You can look like you’ve had a certain kind of lifestyle, backed up by a history of posts that support your claims. Aged accounts can be an easy way to create a past, an identity, or even sometimes, an alibi.

  “But this one…” Annie swipes through each photo, closely inspecting the hashtags and comments. She clicks on the profile of one of Neveah’s followers. “It looks like real people do follow her.” She points to a post from three weeks ago. “I know this girl. She lives on my floor.”

  I nod. “Look before you started school. Go back six months. I’m sure plenty of profiles are real, but a lot will also be bots. The companies that create and sell these profiles aren’t stupid. They know they have to make them look legit, and they do a damn good job of it.”

  Annie groans and tosses her phone on the bed. “So then, why…? Why would there be a private investigator posing as an RA in an art school? Is the school in on it? What about the art show that our adviser recommended for Neveah? Is nothing about my life real?”

  I’d thought about that as well. It would be really tough to get into the position of RA on Annie’s floor without major connections or money.

  “Well, there’s always a chance she got out of the investigations business and that she really is an aspiring artist now. Very few of us make it long-term, and I imagine a good-looking young woman like her might have had a hard time getting decent-paying clients. I know I have…”

  The words slip out before I can stop them, and Annie shifts slightly away from me on the bed.

  “Not you,” I grit out. “Fuck, Annie. Listen. I’m sorry. Business has been down lately. That’s why I was able to close my office and take your job for a steep discount. It may be a few weeks before I have another solid gig. It’s not uncommon. And this is not about you. This is about why and how Neveah may be moonlighting as an RA.”

  She rubs her forehead like she’s in pain. Her eyes are squeezed closed. She opens her eyes, and it’s like a wave from the ocean bursts from the blue of her eyes and slams me in the heart. “You need work. You can’t take me on as a charity case.”

  “You’re not charity.” I slide a hand beneath her hair and cup her neck. “Annie, it’s not like that with us.”

  She draws her lower lip between her teeth as she sucks in a breath. “How is it with us, then?”

  I lower my face to hers and crush her lips in a kiss. She laces her hands behind my neck and presses her chest against me. I taste her tongue against mine, our mouths open, no time for air or light or sound. All I feel is her beneath my hands. My eyes are closed, and I’m swimming—no, drowning—in her sweet flavor.

  I release the kiss reluctantly, pulling my mouth away so I can breathe. I rest my forehead against hers. “No matter how this started, I’m in it,” I tell her. “I’m in this with you. And I’m going to want you long after all of this is over. After I end it. Because I will, Annie. I’m going to end this so I can spend every morning and every night without you looking over your shoulder, wondering what’s after you. The only one chasing you from now on is going to be me.”

  Her breathing is ragged, her cheeks flushed. “I’ll never outrun the ass king,” she murmurs. “Wouldn’t even try.”

  I chuckle, but then we both grow serious again.

  “So, what now?” she asks. “If Nevaeh isn’t who she says she is, who the hell is she? And does she have anything to do with the notes?” Annie shakes her head. “I can’t believe that she does. She seemed so genuinely surprised when I told her about them, Josh. I don’t know what to think anymore.”

  “She may not know anything about the notes,” I say. “But that doesn’t mean she isn’t working for the person who does. Someone hired her. Somebody who wants eyes on you. We just need to figure out who that is and what the hell they want.”

  Annie crinkles her brows. “Why would someone hire her to watch me but then not tell her about the notes?”

  I sigh. “I can think of a lot of reasons. Plausible deniability, for one. She can’t talk about what she doesn’t know, Annie. And even if she’s trained, experienced security, she’s been posing as your friend. That’s a hard thing to sustain long-term. She wasn’t a cop, as far as I remember, and this is essentially an undercover operation.”

  “Who the hell has that kind of money?” she asks. “What could that cost? I mean, who is paying for that?”

  I nod. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I’d thought about that too. Big bucks. Which makes the question of what the person who hired Neveah thinks Annie owes them that much more confusing. The perp—the note-writer—hires someone to stay close to Annie so they can deliver extortion letters. Spending money to make money? That would mean whatever they’ve spent on Neveah… Fuck. They expect to get a lot more out of Annie.

  I turn to her and hold her shoulders firmly. “Babe,” I say. “Are you sure, one hundred percent sure, there’s nothing I don’t know about? No drug cartels in your past? No seven-figure embezzlement deals you and your dad were in on?”

  I’m trying to make light of it, but I’m actually serious.

  Annie’s mouth drops open, and for a minute, she looks hurt.

  She looks down at her flip-flops and curls her bare toes. “No, there’s nothing,” she finally says, shaking her head slowly. “Honest to God, Josh. I’ve racked my brain. I don’t know. I just don’t know. Do you not believe me?” She looks at me when say asks that.

  “I believe every word you’ve told me.” I stand and pull her toward me. “If you’ve missed something or forgotten something, it’s not because you want to deceive me. I believe that. I believe you, Annie.”

  She lowers her forehead to my chest, and we stand together in Crow’s bedroom. We’re holed up in a motorcycle club compound hiding out from a threat we can’t fight because we can’t find it. We’re sitting ducks, and if there’s one thing I refuse to do, it’s stand by and let bad shit come to me. To someone I care about. To Annie.

  “Tomorrow,” I tell her. “We go to your father. We go back to that school. We confront Neveah and anyone and everyone we have to until we get answers. I’m done running. And I’m not going to let anyone chase you ever again.”

  Annie crawls under the covers in the same cupcake pajamas as the night before. I’m already there waiting. I’m doing some research on my phone, trying to find anything I can about Annie’s adviser, June Crossard, and any scandals associated with the art school, but that’s been a dead end. I was about to start digging into Annie’s father when she came back from brushing her teeth.

  “Want to watch something?” she asks softly, leaning her head against my shoulder.

  “Your choice.” I hand her the remote, and she flips through the channels, finally landing on a baking competition show.

  “Do you bake?” I ask, settling back and expecting to watch some British people make jokes I don’t understand while they make cakes I’ve never tried. I don’t tell Annie, but I’ve watched every episode of every season of this show. Sometimes it’s nice to take a break from life and crime, you know?

  She points to the cupcakes on her shorts. “This is as close as I get to baking anything. Eating, on the other hand…”

  She reaches out a hand and trails her fingers along my forearm. I lift that arm, and she cuddles against my side. We watch the opening credits of the show and get through the bit at the beginning where the hosts rib one another, when Annie looks up at me intently.

  “Babe,” she whispers. “Are you into this show?”

  I rumble out a laugh. “I’ve already seen every episode. I like to decompress to food TV.”

  Her eyes light up, and she pokes me in the ribs. “I had no idea. Do you bake?”

  “Fuck no. That’s part of the fun, though. This is shit I’d never, ever do. It doesn’t stress me out because I have no skin in the game.” I adopt a goofy, high-pitched British accent. “You’ll never catch me bakin’, luv.”

  She cackles loudly and then crawls out from under the light blanket. “I’m so glad,” she says. “Because I really didn’t want to watch anything anyway.”

  She tosses back the blankets, and the cool air hits my bare legs. I’m wearing boxer briefs again, and immediately, my cock starts to stiffen.

  “What did you want to watch?”

  She crawls over my legs and leans toward my ear. “I want to watch you fuck me.”

  At that, my dick goes from half-mast to fully awake. “I’m going to like that a hell of a lot more than watching bread proof.”

  She shoves my chest back lightly and gapes open her mouth. “You do watch this show.”

  We both laugh, and she strips off that cupcake top. Her hair falls loosely over her bronzed shoulders, and her tight nipples are so ripe, so hard, I want to suck them in my mouth like candies.

  “Babe,” I groan. “We didn’t buy condoms.”

  She rocks back on her heels and then wiggles out of her shorts. She tosses the turquoise fabric to the floor, then jumps from the bed. She walks naked to her purse and slips a hand inside, then turns to me with a sultry grin. A little foil square is pinched between two fingers.

  “I may have had a few in my dorm room…” she says, drawing her lower lip between her teeth.

  “A few?” I echo, a shit-eating grin spreading across my face. I thank my lucky stars that in the mess of her dorm, she thought of snagging protection. “Let’s not let that go to waste.”

  She crosses the floor naked, the light from the TV making her skin glow. I shove the covers aside, and she climbs in beside me and looks at up me. “This isn’t too soon, is it?” Her words are soft. “I can put this thing right back where I…”

  I silence the question by claiming her mouth with a kiss. A moan tears through her, rocketing blood to my cock. She sounds hungry, needy, and fuck, I’m feeling every whimper low in my gut. I taste her, kissing her until she’s breathless and rubbing her thighs together.

  “Lie on your back.” I can hardly grit the words out. My dick is throbbing, and my lips are raw. I need to slow this down.

  She scoots back on the bed, and I circle her wrists with my hands. She’s still clutching the foil packet, so I leave it there. For now, she might just want to hold on to it. I’m not planning on needing it until she is wet and whimpering. I slide a leg between her knees, and she parts her lips. Her eyes are wide as she watches me settle carefully between her legs and lower my mouth to her tits. I’m still gripping her wrists as I trail the tip of my tongue against her tight peak. I plan on eating, licking, and sucking those tasty nipples until I have my fill.

  I circle her nipple with my tongue, working my way around the tip.

  She sucks air and squirms, then pants my name.

  Fuck, she’s soft, and even the taste of her skin under my lips is like heaven. Better than anything I’ve had and more mind-blowing than anything I could imagine. I don’t care if I’ve known her six hours, six weeks, or six years…I want Annie Hancock.

  I want her in a way that feels unsettling. Powerful and new and terrifying all at once. I don’t think I’ll ever want anyone else like this. I give in to the pull and nip her tight nipple between my teeth.

  Her flesh ripples as the tiny hairs on her arms stand on end. Her heavy lids are lowered, her lips parted in a sensual pant. I kiss the fullness of her breast, the underside, between her cleavage, across her chest to the other tit, tightening my grip on her wrists.

  “Too much?” I grunt, worried I might leave marks.

  “No,” she breathes. “More, baby. More.”

  I lower my mouth to the other breast and suck as much of it into my mouth as I can take. I work my tongue along her nipple, nibbling until a sheen of sweat breaks out along her hairline and she’s panting hard.

  “You like that?” I rasp against her skin. “I want you to come, Annie. I want you to come again and again for me.”

  She shudders a sigh. “More. Your beard.”

  I lower my chin to her delicate flesh and nod, letting the bristled stubble of my beard scrape her tender breast. I roll my neck so my roughness meets every inch of her most sensitive parts. Breast, scratch. Nipple, scrape. I tighten and loosen my hold on her wrists as I work her tits, until she wraps her legs around my waist and starts working her hips against me.

  “Josh,” she pants, her body flushed and hot. “I might…I might…”

  I pivot my hips so my rock-hard cock is pressing against her center. I’m still wearing my briefs, and the friction seems to be just what she needs. I lower my chin to her breast and suck. Her hips thrashing against the mattress until she gives a tiny squeal and then trembles with release. Once she stills, I loosen my grip on her hands and rest my face against her breastbone.

  “Keep going?” I ask. “I’m not planning on letting that go to waste.”

  She’s loosened her grip on the condom packet, but it’s still clutched in her palm.

  “Hell no,” she breathes. “I didn’t dig this out of the ruins of my room for nothing.”

  I roll to my side and hold her close to me while she recovers from her orgasm. We watch the bakers drop cakes and encourage one another until, finally, Annie climbs onto her knees. She sets the condom packet beside me on the blankets and points to my briefs. “Sorry,” she says. “I plan to block your view.”

  15

  ANNIE

  “Off, please.” I point to Josh’s boxer briefs. His chest is bare, the light from the TV highlighting the hairs that cover the contours of his muscles. He is gorgeous. His longish waves are messy, and I lean forward and smooth the hair back into place as I plant a kiss on his lips. “I can’t wait to taste you,” I tease.

  Once his underwear is gone, I see his dick is already hard. “How do you want me?” he rasps.

  I don’t know what to say to that. I want him every way. His body, his heart. I look into his face, the dark eyes intently staring at me. His lips are curled in a smile, and fully naked, he’s like my every wet dream come to life. Sexy, strong, protective.

  For a moment, I remind myself that I hardly know this guy. But even as I think about it, I know it doesn’t matter. I’ve had one-night stands. I’ve had boyfriends.

  No one has ever made me feel the way he does. Protected. Wanted. Desired. Desirable.

  I’m not worried about how I look or if my nails are shaggy. I know he wants me, and the way I need him… It’s as real as anything I’ve ever felt. Whether it lasts a day or forever, I have no hesitation.

  I want Josh.

  I want tonight.

  I want this.

  And if it’s meant to last beyond the mess that is my life right now, then I’ll thank my lucky stars. I just can’t worry about the future when the only thing I trust right now is what my mind, heart, and body are telling me.

  And my body is telling me to stop wasting time thinking about everything and start touching him.

  I kneel between Josh’s legs. He closes his eyes as I slip my fingers around the base of his shaft. His cock jerks, and I smile, lowering my face to blow soft kisses against the head. He sucks in air and fists the blankets, and I feel brazen, wild. I want him to watch me, to touch me. To fist my hair and help me take him in.

  “Josh.” I whisper his name while I kiss his silken shaft.

  “Mmmm,” he grunts.

  “Save yourself for inside me.”

  He nods, the movement soft and relaxed. And then I part my lips and drag the tip of my tongue along the veined underside of his cock. He hisses and sighs, his thick thigh muscles tensing. I watch him, my eyes open, as I draw the head of his cock between my lips.

  Licking the length of him gives me a feeling of utter control. His thighs relax, his eyes close, and his hands weave through my hair.