Ana
New Year’s Day I woke up in a mountain cabin with Ash Black, nothing but the sound of the wind and snow falling thick all around us. There’s nothing I’ve been more afraid of than this. Just us, no distractions, no paparazzi, no interfering agents or crazed fans. All that noise made it easier to hide from the feelings building up inside of me. I’m terrified of the way he makes me feel, the way I’m falling for him so hard.
But now he has me alone, snowed in, at his amazing mountain cabin. He’s all muscle and sex. His voice alone makes me wet. One touch sends me reeling, and he seems to sense and want to unlock all of my most secret fantasies, the ones I haven’t even admitted to myself I want.
This romance is fake. I keep telling myself that. I can’t really trust him. This is all pretend.
But then he pulls me close, presses a hand to the small of my back, kisses my throat and whispers low and wicked in my ear, “Let yourself go.” How am I supposed to say no to that?
NOTE: Undone is a three-volume hot adult romance. It’s the second story in the Beg for It series about the dominant, alpha males in Ash’s family and the strong, sexy women who make them finally meet their match.
UNDONE, VOLUME 3
Chapter 1
Ash
Good thing Connor had been there at the party. Ana had passed out cold, but he’d been there to catch her. Who knew what could have happened to her if he hadn’t been there? By the time I arrived, she was already slung over Connor’s shoulder and they were halfway out the door.
“Is she OK?” I rushed over. What the hell? Ana hadn’t even seemed drunk when I’d spoken with her last. Of course, I’d been away for a while. Two minutes never meant two minutes, and Lola and the owner had monopolized my time for far longer than I’d intended.
“There you are.” Connor shifted her weight on his shoulder. For a little guy, he was strong as hell. “Been looking for you. Your girl’s passed out.”
“I can see that.” I reached to take her from him and I could have sworn he pulled away. For a second. But that second passed and then he eased Ana into my arms.
“Guess she was doing shots earlier with some of the girls.”
“Really?” She didn’t stir at all in my arms, completely out.
“Yeah, then I saw her pound something else down. I went over to check on her and she passed out.”
“Shit.” She looked so vulnerable in my arms, completely out cold. I was glad Connor had found her. “I guess she doesn’t usually drink much.”
“Your librarian’s a lightweight,” Connor confirmed, reaching up to clap me on the back. “Hey, man!” He dove back into the party, high-fiving some guy in the crowd.
“Thanks for looking after her!” I called to him, but he didn’t hear me. He was already off and into the next mess he could find. Messes seemed to follow Connor wherever he went.
I brought her back to my hotel suite, glad I didn’t run into any cameras on the way. I was only down the hall and the hotel had good security for a party like the one we had going on. But celebrities drew paparazzi like a garbage dump drew flies, a perfect match. So I felt relief as I reached my door and entered into the darkness.
Ana was going to have one hell of a hangover, I could already tell that. Sleeping soundly and, it appeared peacefully, not an eyelid fluttered as I rested her down onto the bed. She had her own suite, but I wanted to be near her. And I could always use her passing out as an excuse—I’d wanted to keep an eye on her, make sure she was OK. I could say it with honesty. It was the truth.
For maybe the first time in my life, I honestly wanted to be in a hotel room watching over someone sleeping rather than partying like it was 1999 down the hall. What was happening to me? Had I grown up overnight, taken some sort of hormone pill that finally kicked me out of adolescence?
But, when I thought of it, I’d been heading down this road for a while. Slowly pulling away from Connor and his antics, the number of times I turned down something wild and crazy starting to outpace the number of times I went along with it—never mind how rarely I came up with that sort of shit myself anymore. I’d never admitted it out loud to anyone, hadn’t even really to myself, but when I’d dated Mandy I’d hoped. Or at least I’d wondered—would she be different? I’d been needing a change for a long time.
Now that change had come. I sat on the edge of the bed, looking at Ana so peaceful. Her lashes so long, her perfect full lips, the curve of her cheekbone. I wanted to memorize every inch of her.
Because somehow earlier when we’d spoken it had felt like she hadn’t just been wanting to leave the party. It had felt like she’d wanted to leave me. I understood wanting to get out of that party. I’d felt exactly the same way. But had she been trying to end things between us? The thought made something in my chest seize up like an engine with no oil.
She had every right to end things. I knew that. I’d even understand it if she did. And stupid over her as I was, I still managed to remember ending things was the plan. She was supposed to break up with me on January ninth. It was now the first. We had barely over a week left.
But if things ended between us, I wanted them to end for the right reasons. It shouldn’t be because she got freaked out over the celebrity lifestyle. I’d spent a long time surrounded by the circus, but here was the nasty little secret celebrities never talked about: if you didn’t seek out the spotlight, it generally went away. All that fussing and whining about being constantly hounded and stalked? I could list a bunch of famous people I knew who managed it well, kept a low profile. They just didn’t do public, drunk, messy shit.
And maybe it was time to put all that behind me? I had a hunch that if I were with Ana, I wouldn’t miss it for a second. I could still keep on with music. I knew I’d always do that, but maybe there was something else? Some other way? And maybe we could figure it out together?
But here we were in Vegas, probably the worst place in the world for real, heart-to-heart talks about toning things down and stepping out of the glitz and glam. In Vegas, the lights literally never went out. Especially on New Year’s Eve.
I hadn’t even given Ana a midnight kiss. That seemed a damn shame. I’d been caught up after the show with glad-handing and photos and people Lola said I had to meet. Then everyone all around started counting down and some groupie had pulled me down into a kiss I managed to twist onto my cheek.
No, Vegas wasn’t doing us any favors. But the thing about Vegas was you could always leave it behind. And you know what wasn’t too far away? Mammoth. I had a cabin there. Or, technically, the band had a cabin there. A big, tricked out one. The slopes were better in Tahoe, and much tastier in Vail or Aspen, but Mammoth had location going for it. Just over an hour’s flight from L.A., Vegas and S.F., Mammoth was like celebrities’ backyard snow playground.
If we drove we could get there in about four and a half hours.
“What do you think?” I asked, speaking out loud to Ana’s sleeping form. No response.
There was a storm coming, a big enough one that even I’d heard people talking about it. Keeping up on the weather wasn’t really my thing, but when the forecast predicted a days-long torrential storm pounding the state with rain and blanketing the mountains in snow, it even got on Ash Black’s radar. Drought-stricken California needed rain and snow, everyone knew that, and this storm was supposed to deliver and then some. And it was due to start later on today.
I had to make a call. Ana wasn’t in any shape to make it with me. She’d said something about flying back to New York, but come on now. What we’d had in Paris had been real. We needed a few more days together like that out of the spotlight.
If we headed up to Mammoth we could tuck ourselves away in the cabin. I knew none of the guys were headed there. They’d planned to stay on in Vegas for a couple of days, keep the party going. Ana and I would be snowed in. I’d have her all to myself for days on end.
§
Driving in a snowstorm was harder than I’d remembered. Actu
ally, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d driven myself through a snowstorm. Or driven myself through anything to anywhere. Thankfully, we were already on Route 395 before it started coming down thick. The GPS said we had about an hour to go.
The flakes were accumulating heavy and fast. When we’d left Vegas four hours earlier in the dead of night, the road had been flat and dry and stretched out in front of us endlessly.
I say us because Ana was with me, but she hadn’t exactly been awake for any of it. She was passed out so cold a couple of times I’d checked to make sure she was breathing. And she always was, slow and steady, just sleeping the sleep of the dead.
And sleep on she still did, slumped against the door of the car, unaware of the storm brewing around her. Unaware that I’d kidnapped her.