Surrendering To Him Read online

  “This is different,” he said, his lips brushing against mine.

  “How?” I whispered, trying to steel my resolve against his closeness.

  Huxley’s face shut down, cutting off my ability to read his thoughts, and he didn’t answer the question. Apparently, he didn’t know me too well; otherwise, he’d know I could be like a dog with a bone. I was stubborn. I wasn’t going to give up that easily on a story I was passionate about just ‘cause big, bad Huxley said it wasn’t safe. Nuh-uh, that explanation was not good enough.

  “How?” I repeated.

  “Babe,” he said.

  “Hux,” I warned.

  “Fuck, woman! It’s just not safe. Why is that not good enough for you?”

  Seeing a break in his emotionless mask, I felt proud of myself for causing him so much frustration. It was good to give him a taste of his own medicine.

  “Because I have bills to pay! Dammit, Hux, I don’t live in the same ivory tower you do. Not to mention, this is my passion, my calling. Something is up with Sherriff Douche, and it’s my duty to inform the citizens of East Haven what it is.”

  “Fuck’s sake, I’ll pay all your damn bills for the year if you’ll leave this the hell alone!” he roared, backing away from me. He was livid. “Would you rather be dead or can you wait to write the damn article after I make it safer for you?”

  My body jerked like I had been shot, and I felt like I’d been punched in the gut. He landed a blow he didn’t even realize to a place I kept hidden for a long, long time. But I wasn’t about to let him know he hit a soft spot. I needed to cover that wound back up.

  “Take me home,” I whispered, turning my back to him. I wasn’t going to let him see the lone tear that trekked down my face.

  “No, not until we talk,” he said.

  I could hear the frustration in his voice, but I was done talking. I wasn’t going to say another word.

  “Phoebe,” he whispered against the nape of my neck. I shook my head.

  “Baby,” he whispered again, this time at my ear. His hot breath shot goose bumps all the way down my spine. I tried fighting the shiver, but there was no point. He had to know I was affected by him; he had to have felt how my body responded to him. I was proud of myself though. I still hadn’t uttered a sound.

  He moved from behind me then sighed and said, “Let’s go home.”

  Two

  Sweatpants

  WITH MY ARMS over my head, I grinned through an immensely satisfying stretch. God, this mattress felt amazing. Why was I so comfortable? I didn’t normally sleep this well. My bed was hard as a rock, and I never felt this well-rested.

  Cracking one eye open and blinking at the blinding sun, I started to panic. This much sun never came through my windows. One hazard of my job was that my sleep schedule was dependent on the day and deadline. One night, I would go to sleep at 8:00 p.m. and be up by 7:00 a.m. Another, I would be up until 4:00 a.m. and not wake up until noon, so blackout curtains were a must-have in my house. I was quickly realizing I wasn’t in my own bed or even my own house.

  What the fuck?

  Slowly regaining my wits and hoping I hadn’t been kidnapped—again, I noticed the weight on my waist. The weight was heavy and hot, like a damn furnace. Jesus, whatever it was needed a damn fan to cool off. As my head turned to the right, I saw the back of a man’s head with all its luscious dark hair.

  Huxley.

  How I knew it was his head was beyond me.

  How did I end up in Huxley’s bed? I drew a blank after getting in his car. I must have fallen asleep. I sleep like the dead, by the way. Millie teases me about the time I slept through an Avenged Sevenfold concert during finals week when we were in college. I was so excited to see my favorite rock band and ended up falling asleep less than ten minutes into the concert.

  I had looked at the time on Huxley’s dashboard and saw it was after 8:00 p.m. and was furious all over again that I had been locked up for nearly six hours.

  After that, I didn’t remember anything. Well, anger had been known to make me exhausted.

  Fuckity, fuck, fuck.

  I was in Huxley Carson’s house.

  I was in Huxley Carson’s bedroom.

  I was in Huxley Carson’s bed.

  Huxley Carson was lying next to me on said bed.

  Why the hell did I keep getting myself into situations where Huxley Carson was in proximity?

  I mean, come on. This was two for two now. First, my interview, and now I was literally being cuddled by the man.

  And yes, it was important to point out I was the one being cuddled, and not the one doing the cuddling. Now, I just had to figure out how the hell I was getting out of here.

  Hux was lying on his stomach, his head turned away from me, but his arm closest to me was wrapped around my waist. Damn me and my stupid brain, but I wanted to look at his face and see him when he didn’t have the weight of the world on him.

  Huxley was a damn fine-looking man with rich, dark-brown hair, dark, army green eyes and a body made for sin, but beneath the surface, I could tell he had made decisions he didn’t want to, that he saw things nobody should. It was evident in the lines around his eyes, the hardness he carried there. I wished I could be the kind of woman he could unload his problems on at the end of the day, someone to share his burdens, and take some of the weight off him. I couldn’t be that woman though, and I never would be, to him or anyone else.

  I was trying to gently shake the thoughts of being with Huxley from my head when he turned those piercing eyes on me and pinned me where I lay.

  So much for trying to sneak out of the bed.

  There was something unspoken in his eyes, some kind of understanding he came to but didn’t share with me.

  “Extra toothbrush under the sink. After you brush, meet me in the kitchen. It’s time we talk,” he said in a gruff voice rough from sleep.

  Fuckity, fuck, fuck.

  His voice was sexy, even in the morning, and the spot between my thighs tingled from the deliciousness of it.

  Again, I wondered how the hell I had gotten myself into this situation.

  His grip loosened, and I took my shot. I flew out of the bed, only to realize Huxley’s shirt was the only clothing I had on, other than my panties. I stopped dead in my tracks and looked down at the plain black T-shirt that hit midthigh. My eyes moved back to the bed with all white sheets against which Huxley looked especially tan.

  “Why am I wearing your shirt?” I asked him blankly. When he took me to his home last night, carried me inside, and laid me down, he must have taken off my clothes and then slipped his shirt on me. He was probably trying to make sure I was comfortable. Yes, I was in a sleep coma, and yet I didn’t feel any discomfort from his actions.

  “You needed something to sleep in,” he said as if it were nothing. It wasn’t anything to him, but it was huge to me. God, I couldn’t remember the last time someone—besides Millie—took care of me. That thought settled deep in my soul and curled around my heart.

  Fuck, why was this man bothering me so damn much? I needed to get the hell away from him. For good. Nodding silently to Huxley, I walked to the bathroom, and my jaw dropped as soon as I stepped through the door.

  Holy shit.

  This man’s bathroom was like a dream come true.

  Off to the right was a gold double sink and a granite countertop. Opposite that was a standup shower with marble walls and gold accents. The white, clawfoot tub, which may as well have been a small pool, was between the sink and shower and was under a large window that overlooked downtown East Haven. The toilet had its own privacy wall and was opposite the shower.

  After brushing my teeth and washing my hands, when I returned to the bedroom, I noticed the similar color pattern to the bathroom—white and gold. It suited Hux.

  I searched for my clothes on the bed, in the nightstand, under the bed, but couldn’t find them anywhere. Seriously, did he steal my damn clothes? Ugh, he was so damn frustrating.

/>   Don’t become just another crazy, murderous woman. Murder is bad. It’s illegal, I said in my head.

  I wandered out of the bedroom and made a left down a long hallway that led to the kitchen. Huxley stood at the counter, wearing nothing but gray sweatpants.

  Holy Mary, Mother of God.

  Why?

  Why was a man so fucking attractive wearing sweatpants?

  And it wasn’t just Huxley—though he looked lickable. It was all men.

  Every. Single. One. Of. Them.

  Sweatpants, check.

  No shirt, check.

  Ovaries: Explode.

  Boom.

  I must have been staring with my mouth agape, because Huxley turned, chuckling quietly and holding a cup of coffee.

  Snapping out of my stupor, I moved toward him, needing my own cup of java.

  “Phone’s charged, on the counter. Your girl has been calling,” Huxley said, tilting his head toward the island.

  Shit. I forgot about Millie.

  In my defense, I was kidnapped and taken hostage by a crazed ex-FBI agent turned PI.

  “Thank you for charging my phone. I’ll call her in a little bit. We need to talk first.”

  “Right. You ready to talk now?” His question sounded like an accusation.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I fired back snottily, settling my hands on my hips.

  “You shut down yesterday,” he answered.

  “I did not!”

  “Babe, you did.”

  “I did not!” I yelled back.

  I was usually a happy-go-lucky person. Of course I got mad when necessary, upset when needed, happy when the atmosphere was correct for it. But normally, I never yelled or acted this way. Although, this wasn’t a normal situation. Huxley seemed to bring out a lot of emotions in me, anger mostly.

  Hux smirked.

  “Okay, I did shut down, but I have good reason,” I finally said after a stare down with Hux, which of course he won.

  “What reason?”

  Fuckity, fuck, fuck.

  I knew he was going to ask that. What normal person wouldn’t be curious?

  But he was Huxley Carson. He ran a background check on everyone he encountered from what I heard, so he had to have some clue of why I shut down. He had to know about my past, what my childhood was like. With pursed lips, I kept my mouth shut. I was not going to tell him more than he already knew.

  “Baby,” he whispered softly, setting his mug down and moving to me slowly, like I was a feral animal. When he reached me, he cupped my cheeks in his big, warm hands, pulling my face closer until I was less than an inch away from him.

  “Talk to me.”

  I shook my head, dislodging the hands framing my face, and stepped away. It took a lot of willpower to pull away from him, but I needed to, for my sake.

  “Hux, we don’t even know each other,” I said, desperately trying to maintain my boundaries.

  I needed this game of cat and mouse to be over and for him to give me my clothes back and take me home. I needed to never see him again. Millie and her family were the only people I was willing and able to let in. But I believed Huxley would be able to make my walls crumble, and I couldn’t have that.

  “Open book, babe, I’ll tell you anything,” he returned.

  He wasn’t going to give up. A war raged inside my head. On one hand, I wanted to know more about Huxley. Unfortunately for me, I didn’t have a whole team of people like he did to do background checks. I wanted to know how he grew up, what he liked, what his family was like. I wanted it all. I wanted to be a Huxley Carson sponge. But getting to know him would’ve been an invitation for him to get to know me, and I couldn’t have that. So as much as he piqued my curiosity, I knew not to go down this road.

  “We don’t have time for that, Hux. We have to talk about other things that take precedence. Also, I need coffee before we begin any discussion,” I said, hoping he wouldn’t fight me. If I spent much more time with him, I was going to go into a Hux Fog like I did last night when he kissed me.

  His features hardened but not into granite like when he was pissed. I could tell he was frustrated with me shutting down any discussion of us.

  Well too damn bad. He was just going to have to deal with it. He was the one who kidnapped me yesterday, kept me locked up for more than six hours, and then took me to his house. Not to mention, this was how I was on a regular basis. If he wanted to be around me in any capacity, he’d have to get used to my stubbornness.

  “I’ll break you down eventually. It’s best you go ahead and give in,” Hux said while moving to a white cupboard and getting a cup for me.

  I ignored him and looked around his house. The floor plan was open, and the kitchen was the center focus. Off to the left of the kitchen was the living room. It housed a black leather sectional with a large ottoman that doubled as a coffee table. There was a huge flat screen TV mounted on the wall, and I instantly wanted to watch my TV shows on it. The entire room had floor-to-ceiling windows, and I could see the sunrise on the tallest buildings in East Haven leading me to think Huxley must live in a condo on the top floor. To the right of the kitchen was the dining room. There was a dark cherry wood table that seated six, and the chandelier was absolutely breathtaking. No way in hell Huxley decorated his house himself.

  “You have a nice house,” I noted, attempting to break through the tension in the room.

  “Thanks,” he replied with a hard set to his jaw.

  His muscles strained and flexed while he poured me coffee. Jesus, I could get used to watching him do that every morning. His muscles were so large I wasn’t sure how his shirts fit him properly without ripping. And don’t get me started on his chest.

  Oh my God, it was so fucking drool-worthy.

  He had a little hair between his pecs, and what strong pecs those were. The promise of him and what his body could do made me salivate. He could throw me around like a rag doll.

  “Phoebe,” Hux called out with amusement in his voice.

  “Huh?” I mumbled and snapped my head up to look him in the eyes. He must have caught me ogling his chest and arms. My face started flaming, and even though I couldn’t see it, I felt the heat move down to my neck.

  “I asked how you take your coffee,” he said, thankfully deciding to ignore my wandering eyes but still smiling knowingly. That smile captivated me. It touched the corners of his eyes, making them crinkle a little bit at the ends.

  “Three sugars and a splash of milk,” I told him then looked away, because I couldn’t keep staring at him. He was too damn distracting, and we had to finish the conversation I wouldn’t last night.

  Huxley brought my cup to me, and I swear I could feel the first sips touch my soul. I loved coffee, coffee loved me, and we were one big, happy family. I moaned as I took the next sip and watched as Huxley’s green eyes got even darker, his shoulders pulled taut, and his smile disappeared. He took on the look of an animal stalking his prey. That prey being me.

  Eeek.

  “Can’t make that noise, babe,” he rumbled from deep in his chest.

  “Why?” I had no fucking idea why I was teasing him. My brain and rational thought flew out the window and must have left for Texas, because I was poking a beast I knew shouldn’t be poked.

  In one swift moment, my coffee cup was out of my hands—without being spilled, I might add—and I felt myself being lifted up, up, and then planted on the counter. Huxley shoved himself between my legs and pushed in close. He ground his rigid length against the center of my panties and my eyes rounded to saucer size.

  Holy shit.

  Holy shit.

  Fuckity, fuck, fuck.

  My God, this man was huge.

  So fucking huge that instantly I knew he wouldn’t fit in me. I wasn’t even playing. He wasn’t gonna fit. There was no point in trying.

  Add that to another reason you shouldn’t be with him, my brain said, deciding to come back from vacation in Texas.

  “Oh m
y God,” I breathed, leaning closer to Huxley. He was already close, so by leaning forward, I could almost lick him. He was in licking distance.

  I’m such a whore.

  “That’s why,” he growled.

  “We can’t do this,” I told him in a shaky breath.

  “Give me one reason,” he countered.

  In a normal setting, I could give him a thousand. Seriously, a thousand. But with him so close, his cock so close, the smell of him teasing me, and our lips so close, I couldn’t think of one damn reason. Not one.

  Somebody help me get my rational thoughts back!

  I closed my eyes and inhaled but only took in more of his scent. My hands moved on their own and found purchase on Huxley’s chest. Fuck, but his muscles were as hard as they looked. Because my eyes were closed, I didn’t see him lean into my neck. His lips trailed up slowly, ever so fucking slowly, licking as he went, and found my ear. He nipped me, and goose bumps wracked my entire body.

  He released my ear and whispered, “One reason, babe.”

  “Oh my God,” I breathed again.

  This man robbed me of my fucking speech!

  Fuckity, fuck, fuck.

  What the hell was he doing to me? I’d had boyfriends before. Plenty of them. But none of them—even all of them combined—made me feel all the tingles Hux made me feel. I had sex with a few men, some good sex, some bad sex, and some mediocre. But I knew, I knew if Huxley and I ever got to that point, he would blow the sex I had before him out of the water. It wouldn’t even be in the same ballpark.

  Damn, I really needed a date with my vibrator, and then maybe I wouldn’t be acting like a freaking hussy.

  Before Hux could say or do anything else, a phone rang. I wasn’t sure if it was mine or his, but I could vaguely hear it beyond the blood rushing to my ears and my heavy breathing.

  “Fuck,” he whispered, pulling away and grabbing my phone off the counter.

  The Hux Fog was clearing, and I wanted to smack myself again.

  Jesus, fuck, how many times did I have to go into the Fog before I learned to stay away from him? Or at least not get close to him and tempt him?

  “It’s your girl,” Huxley said, thrusting my phone into my hand.