Steal (Seaside Pictures #3)

We stumbled into it together, hands on each other’s bodies, kissing every free space that wasn’t covered.

“You know,” I grabbed the soap and started running it over his muscled chest, laughing softly when his eyes narrowed. “I think you’re the best agent I’ve ever had.”

“Someone’s got a sense of humor in the morning.” Will smirked, “I better be the best damn agent you’ve ever had, emphasis on the ever.”

I grinned and stood up on my tiptoes. “The best. I promise.”

“Good.” He relaxed and then pushed me toward the wall and assaulted my mouth. My body wasn’t built or ready for the way he attacked with every weapon he had in his arsenal, his words, his mouth, his tongue, he knew every weakness I had and used them against me, until I was a panting sweaty mess begging for more.

I should hate the powerlessness I felt at his touch, at the way time slowed around us as water pounded against our bodies and he slid into me again, roughly slamming my cheek against the cold tile until I gasped at the contact of the heat of him at my back and the ice of the tile against my breasts.

“Don’t stop,” I cried. “Please.”

“Never,” he rasped. “Never again.”

I crumpled into his arms and prayed that the day would end the way it started, with Will looking at me like everything was going to be okay.



Technically we were almost late but only because Will had to grab his phone from Zane.

He refused to look at it.

I didn’t ask him why.

Nor did I ask why Zane had seemed so concerned last night.

Instead, I shut the world out and focused on the cup of coffee in my hand and the warmth of Will’s kiss fading from my lips.

A swarm of reporters surrounded the beach.

More than usual.

At least ten times more.

I frowned and tried sinking back into my seat.

Will reached for my hand and squeezed. “It’s nothing you’ve never faced before, Ang, only this time we do it together.”

“You’re my agent,” A sense of dread washed over me . “People are going to talk aren’t they?”

“People can go to Hell.” He curled his lips in disgust and gave his head a shake. “Trust me, this will be old news by tomorrow.”

“Promise me that we can be shut-ins tonight?”

His eyes swept over me with such a hungry gaze I felt hot all over. “Do you think I’d want it any other way?”

“I hope not.”

“Not. It’s not.” He scrutinized me a minute longer as if looking for any weakness he needed to put armor around, as if waiting for me to break so he could figure out how to shield me from the ugly. “It’s going to be fine, all right?”

He was so authoritative now.

Wise.

Trusting.

I trusted him.

I gave him a shaky nod and opened my car door just as Will took a quick look at his cell phone and paled.

It was bad timing.

The press hounding us.

Will looking down.

Me looking lost.

He quickly flashed me a worried smile, then grabbed my hand, kissed it, and helped me wade through the crowds.

I might have covered my ears.

I might have tuned them all out.

I might have been on the verge of tears for no reason.

I wanted him to myself.

I wanted us to ourselves.

Why the hell had I taken this job?

Right. Comeback. To prove something.

And now all I wanted was to go back into the car and drive with Will, anywhere but here.

We finally made it past the barricade where reporters couldn’t linger, and into the hub of action.

Jay was rubbing his eyes with his hands, Pris looked worried, and everyone was on set, including the wives.

The minute they saw us, I knew something was very wrong.

I froze.

Stopped moving.

And then the crowd parted.

And Andrew walked toward us.

Will pulled me against him.

Andrew’s eyes narrowed between us before he made a cautious approach.

Cameras flashed from behind us, we weren’t far enough away for them not to see the reunion of the two best friends who broke up the world’s biggest boy band.

And the girl who helped them do it.

I had to lean on Will to keep from collapsing.

He was strong, immobile, pissed beyond all reason. It was a look I’d never seen him give, like he’d gladly go to prison for murder and cheerfully take a life sentence just so he could wipe Andrew off the face of the earth.

Andrew’s blue eyes skimmed over both of us. His mop of dark hair was gone, buzzed close to his head, tattoos lined his arms, and menacing was the only word that came to my mind.

If Will had turned into this respectable man.

Andrew had turned into pure wickedness.

The last time I’d seen him he’d been at a party. His solo career had taken off just about the time mine started spiraling into non-existence. I had asked him for help once, but he told me I was bad for his image.

Right, I was bad for his image.

I swallowed and fought to keep my head held high.

“I wonder.” Andrew’s smooth voice made my teeth chatter. “What glorious web of lies you’ve spouted to him to get him back.” He tapped his chin. “Nice seeing you both, oh and sorry about not letting you know about the cameo, the studio thought it would be a nice… reunion. The rest of the guys fly in today.”

He walked past.

Will glared at Jay but he was on the phone yelling at someone.

Zane made a shooting motion in Andrew’s direction just as Andrew turned back around then Zane flipped him off, which according to the level of his fame right along with Alec and Demetri meant he could do whatever the hell he wanted, my friends were A-list celebrities.

Andrew had been dying to get that letter since losing it after the band broke up. He craved it.

Fought for it.

Hated Will for still having it despite changing careers, and he’d made that clear the last time I’d seen him when he’d told me I was trash.

Will finally unfroze and gripped me by the shoulders, looking into my eyes. “You okay?”

I shook my head no.

“He wasn’t supposed to be on set until tomorrow, I didn’t even know until I checked my phone. I’m—” His eyes were wild, crazy. “Ang — say something!”

I opened my mouth, and then puked all over the sand.





“LOOK, ALL I’M saying is I know a guy.” Zane held up his hands and then grabbed his cell. “Remember, I’m part Italian.”

Demetri walked over to our secluded spot on the beach where we’d all convened after seeing Andrew. Basically, we were hiding and the gang decided to hide with us. “He still talking about the mafia?”

“Yes,” we all said in unison.

“Why does nobody believe me?” Zane asked aloud. “Look I’m going to prove it.” He started working furiously on his phone and then held it up. “Nixon Abandonato, known contacts, Chase Abandonato, Sergio Abandonato—”

“That’s a hell of a lot of Abandonatos.” I scowled. “What does that even mean?”

“Oh, wow.” Nat looked over Zane’s shoulder. “He kind of looks like you, minus the menacing I’d probably shoot you in the face first ask questions later sort of way.”

“Case closed.” Zane dropped his phone. “I’m sending him a text. I just need to find his number…”

“No.” Ang finally spoke.