Excerpt of Fully Covering Her by Michel Prince

Chloe rushed over to the cutting table that might as well be her desk, shoving items into her messenger bag before snagging the key she’d not replaced on her key ring. Then she turned.

Noah slowly rose from the cushioned chair set up in the reception area.

Even with the open floor plan and little more than moveable dividers blocking the sewing on the far side of the studio, Kennedy insisted on creating a defined area for client consultation with a throw rug, couch and a couple of chairs for a comfortable feel.

“I don’t have time for this today,” she said holding up her hand with her SUV key clutched in the center.

“Why do you need your car key?” he asked.

She narrowed her eyes at the man. “Because it makes the car go vroom,” she replied pushing past him and heading out the door. “I’ll be back in a few hours, don’t eat the applicants, I might actually need them to fill Mel’s order.”

Heart racing, Chloe made her way to the stairs, making sure to keep her hand on the railing, since she was sporting heels. There would be no double timing and jumping down the last three steps today. Yes, Merida said jump and Chloe hopped like a little bunny. Why? Because Merida James was their second mother, the woman killed it on TV and in movies. She took on the roles that made people openly weep, but refused the stereotyped ones. Denying herself paydays and giving CeCe a hero to follow. Proving she didn’t need to take the shit roles to pad her resume. To hold out for ones that showed the truth of the twins’ life. Not the narrative people wanted to share.

Bursting from the building, Chloe hit the button to unlock her door as she rounded the corner and rushed to open her door.

 A large hand angled down over her shoulder, slamming the door shut before she could even pull it open.

Heat burned the back of her body from Noah standing flush against her with only an inch between her and the vehicle in need of a good wash. She had to create the gap to avoid getting dirt on her outfit. For a second, she wondered if he knew and was using it to his advantage. “I have a meeting,” she said, trying to keep calm.

“And you have a phone,” he commanded, his voice dark and gruff as if he’d been having a shitty day.

“Yes, I’m aware,” she said, retrieving her phone from the bag and finding the ride app she used for sober cabbing. One handing it because she was keeping her key gripped in her hand.

“Don’t,” he said, leaning over her shoulder so he barely had to whisper for her to hear him. “I’ll take you.”

Sandalwood drifted to her senses like a leaf floating in the wind.

Every part of her wanted to stomp her feet in protest, but she knew he wasn’t the type of guy she could stomp on his foot and jab in the gut. She couldn’t yell for help because that would be a dick move since the man wasn’t doing anything more than offering to drive her. There was no physical threat to her body. Even if part of her was beginning to wonder why he shifted a bit to the side. Was it to move his foot between hers for a strategic reason? Or because a part of him was stiffening and not from being flexed. “You say that as if I have other options,” she countered. “I don’t suppose Kennedy could drive me?”

“No,” he replied, his lip brushing along the tip of her ear. “But if it would make you feel more comfortable, she could ride with. Now, give me your key.”

“You had your chance,” she challenged as his other hand fought to uncurl her fingers. Her struggle for control was weakened by her trapped position.

“Drop it,” he commanded. “Now.”

Resignation overtaking her, she lowered her head.

“The key, Chloe,” her name rolled off his tongue as if it were dipped in honey as his breath tickled along the back of her neck. “I want the key and you can give me your spare when we get back.”

Tears of frustrations threatened to fall. She wanted her freedom. She hadn’t signed up to be an international superstar. The only reason he was doing this was to make sure her sister didn’t get manipulated by some sociopath.

“You don’t have to talk to me,” he added. “Sit by me or even do anything beyond giving me the address of where we’re going.”

“Just a ride,” she asked turning slightly as he stood stock still, less than a breath of air between their lips. “I don’t need you to follow me in.”

“I’m not there to hold your hand,” he stated. His voice soft sounded soothing, his body relaxing a bit, even though his hand kept pressing her door shut. His actions were careful, moving him closer to her as she released the key into his other hand. “That’s a good girl.”

Every external part of the world faded into oblivion and she wondered if she was standing outside. Sure, the cool air was present on one side of her, but her backside was being seared from the man engulfing her. Both were locked in place. Hadn’t she said they could go? Why were they standing, locked in, their lips so close every part of her wanted to break the trance. Had he just told her she was a good girl? More importantly, why did that make her want to fall into him after a light tap to her ass? It had been way too damn long since a man had touched her. That had to be the reason, the last thing she would ever do was fall for a man practically pinning her to a car. Only the space hadn’t lessened. The front half of her had zero pressure, being inches away from the actual car door. Yet, she was holding her breath in so hard, her abs were starting to burn. Maybe she could start a new fitness craze. Trapped by a man, the horny girl’s guide to a flat stomach.