Key to Her Heart

You

Key to Her Heart

Hearts on the Line Book Two

by

Anya Sharpe

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

Key to Her Heart

COPYRIGHT © 2019 by Anya Sharpe

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

Contact Information: info@thewildrosepress.com

Cover Art by Diana Carlile

The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

PO Box 708

Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

Publishing History

First Scarlet Rose Edition, 2019

Print ISBN 978-1-5092-2450-0

Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-2451-7

Published in the United States of America

Dedication

To all of my family and friends who have been so supportive of my writing. In particular, Mike, who has been my loudest cheerleader; my daughter, Sam, who built my website and patiently navigates me through social media; Sarah, my critique partner, for her wonderful feedback; and to several of my Spring Training pals for loaning me their names for the security guards in this book. I appreciate all of you.

A special thanks to everyone who read my previous books Unlocking Love and Passion Unscripted.

PRAISE FOR AUTHOR

Anya Sharpe

PASSION UNSCRIPTED

Carson and Lara both have some baggage that makes them wary of a relationship, but while working together their chemistry is undeniable and once isn’t enough. Will they be able to let their pasts go and move forward? I liked the story and the chemistry between Carson and Lara is off the charts hot. The story held my interest throughout. An enjoyable read.

~Tammy S., NetGalley

Chapter One

Evan

Her flowing white dress billows in the tropical breeze as she glides across the pearly sand landscape toward me. Her hair is far longer than I remember—cascading behind her in light brown waves, floating like feathers in her wake. Somewhere in the distance, a harp strums a romantic melody. Warmed by the golden sun, I’m smiling, waiting for her to sail into my arms, my feet planted in the sand, the heat of the sun on my tanned, bare back. Opening my arms, I await the presence of her sweet body. Her curves beneath my fingers, the touch of her lips upon mine…

What? Wait. What kind of dumb-ass pansy girly dream is this? What self-respecting guy has Rapunzel runs into my arms dreams? I’m a guy. Guys dream of shit like winning NASCAR, scaling Mount Everest, orgies with hot models. Even in my dream-state, I’m aware of how ridiculous this scenario is.

Switch scene.

A gossamer black lace bra.

Matching thong.

Erynne’s hot body tantalizing.

Yeah. This is more like it.

My hands explore her silken skin, stopping at those gorgeous tits. Even through the bra, they feel amazing. Soft and firm and luscious. I unclasp the garment, allowing it to slide to the floor and then…then, fill my mouth with the taste of one supreme globe. My cock aches, pulsing to its own beat.

The music changes. Kings of Leon are wailing Sex is on Fire. Exactly. Sex between us might just burn the house down. Not to mention, this song is way better than the damned harps.

A deep, throaty moan tells me she’s on edge. My lips glide to the other breast, down her torso, to a hip, across her belly. I need more of this woman. I need all of her. To cherish the taste and feel of her body. Grasping the edge of the lacy thong, I rip it off her.

We’re on the bed, her sexy noises and gasps growing louder, more intense. Not a surprise, since I’m licking and sucking her clit the way she loves it—at first barely a swipe of my tongue, then when she least expects it, nipping at the bundle of nerves. She’s on the brink, but I stop. I can’t wait a moment longer. The craving to be inside her is too great. Slowly, I move my body over hers and press my cock into her heat, an agonizing inch at a time. The throbbing of her impending orgasm blows my mind. We’re both going to come hard.

Evan. She releases the word on a sigh.

Evan. Her words are louder and more intense as I move within her.

Evan…I love you.

Oh, thank God.

My rock-hard dick pulses against her ass when I’m snapped awake by Erynne’s sleepy voice which penetrated my erotic-as-hell dream. She lays snuggled in my embrace. The dream crackles at the edges of my consciousness, leaving me frustrated it ended too soon.

Then, I hear it again.

Evan. I love you, Ace.

The words are a bit mumbled, but they’re clear as a bell to me. It wasn’t a dream.

Fuck yeah.

She loves me.

****

What?

With a small clatter, Erynne drops the spoon she’s using to stir her coffee, her hard stare piercing me. I wrinkle my brow.

Not sure what you’re talking about, sweetheart. Yeah, sort of a lie.

You’re staring at me. Do I have cream cheese on my chin or something? She swipes at her face with a paper napkin.

No cream cheese. I can’t stop smiling. I’m so damned happy. You’re too sexy and cute this morning.

I can’t be both, and I’m probably neither. Frowning, she adjusts the sloppy pony-tail she attempted to restrain her beautiful hair with after sliding out of my bed less than a half-hour ago. The memory of her, naked and warm, turns my smile into a smug grin. It also awakens a certain uncontrollable part of my anatomy. I’m in big trouble now.

She squints at me while demanding I explain why I’m grinning like an idiot. What the hell is with you this morning, Giamatti?

She’s calling me Giamatti. Good chance I’m irritating her.

Heh, Heh…

Something’s on her mind because she’s been unusually quiet and contemplative this morning. I aim to find out what it is. Rising from my chair at the dining room table, I squat in front of her, gathering her hands in mine and looking her square in the eye. The compulsion to be reassuring overcomes me.

I love having you here with me in the morning, and at night. Especially at night. I waggle my eyebrows.

As her expression softens, she leans over and places a soft kiss on my lips, one hand lifting to stroke my face before retreating a few inches. Her gentle smile comes into focus. My mouth goes dry, and my gut twists. It hurts so good. I never want this ache to stop.

Jesus, I’m so damned head over heels in love with this woman.

The weight of her index finger touches my mouth, shushing me before I can tell her exactly that.

Yes, she whispers.

Yes? Dare I wonder what she’s agreeing to? I remain quiet because she hasn’t removed her finger. Instead, I wrinkle my brow in question. This time I’m truly unsure of where the conversation is headed. Her smile grows bigger. My heart pounds.

Yes. I’ll move in with you.

I don’t think. I pull her to standing, hoist her into my arms and waste no time returning us both to my—our—bedroom.

Clothes? They vanish.

Lust and passion? They overrule any smidgen of sense I have. Honestly, I’m not altogether sure I have much sense and reason when it comes to her.

Gloriously naked, Erynne is sprawled out on the bed, reminding me of my dream. The memory spurs me, and my dick, on.

I’m an animal, I growl in my own defense, knowing I’m about to ravish her. I’m so overwhelmed, I can’t think straight. The weight of my body slides over hers, and I go for it. I’m dying to savor every inch of Erynne, but I’m impatient and thrust into her with a shudder. Buried deep, I pause before moving again.

I’m sorry, babe. I lift myself up on my elbows with a groan and caress each side of her face with my hands.

I can’t think of a single thing you should be apologizing for right now, Ace. She pauses with a wicked grin. Except maybe because you stopped moving.

Erynne has waved the green flag.

****

God, Erynne. I’m such a jerk. She’s in my favorite spot, curled up next to me bare-ass naked after a superbly sweaty round of making love. I pounced on you without… Why are you laughing at me? Twisting, I peer down at her.

Did you hear me complaining?

I grin. I heard a lot of things, but I’m fairly sure there weren’t any complaints. In fact, the sounds Erynne made were highly erotic. I’m growing hard at the simmering flashback. A smooth hand slides down my chest, stopping low on my abdomen and going no further, much to the dismay of my hopeful cock.

Did you mean it?

Yeah. I did. A few days ago, I begged her to move in. I’m actually surprised she’s agreeing so soon.

Silence fills the room for a few moments.

Erynne adjusts her position so she can simultaneously stay wrapped in my arms while meeting my gaze.

Both things. Her voice is soft and low.

Both things? I stroke her silky hair.

Nodding, she kisses my shoulder, slides on top of me and buries her hands in my hair. Then, her lips find mine. I forgot she wanted to tell me something until she stops and stares at me.

Yeah. I want to move in with you, but there’s something else you didn’t give me the chance to say.

And that is? I’m pretty damned nervous. She bites her lip and blinks at me, a little unsure of how to phrase her next thought.

Somehow, some way, Evan Giamatti, you made me fall in love with you.

There are no words. I roll her over and commence a repeat performance. This time, it’s slow and perfect.

****

After a shower—singular…gotta conserve water, you know—Erynne and I go to her apartment to move her belongings. As we work, I recall both my dream and her earlier admission.

I have a confession to make. I toss clothing from her dresser into a suitcase, not bothering to fold a damned thing.

Oh? What’s that?

Well, actually two confessions.

She plops a stack of dresses from her closet onto the bed. Two?

Yeah. First, you already know how much I wanted you to agree to move upstairs with me, right?

Yeah.

Well, now I’m glad for another reason. Dante. The guy bothers me. I don’t like him being across the hall from you.

He wasn’t on my radar when I made my decision this morning, but now that you mention it, he unnerves me.

I pause with a fistful of very sexy panties in my hand and turn toward her.

You only decided to move in this morning?

Instead of answering my question, wide-eyed Erynne shrieks. What the hell are you doing?

I glance down at my handful. Packing?

"My panties?"

Why? Were you going to leave them here?

I’ve never seen her move so swiftly. Before I get the whole question out, she’s in front of me, snatching the goods from my grasp, her sudden distress making me laugh.

You’re embarrassed because I was packing your panties?

"Well…yes."

Flustered, she throws them into the suitcase and returns to inspect the now-empty drawer, as I brush tears from my eyes.

"Darlin’ I love your panties. On or off. And, might I add, you have some pretty damned sexy ones in this stash. I’m anxious to see them on your smokin’ hot body."

Evan! I pull her into my arms and grin. Just because I can. Because this whole conversation is amusing as hell.

Oh, come on. Seriously? I’ve taken your clothes off of you and explored pretty much every inch of your gorgeous body, and you’re embarrassed I touched your panties?

She blushes a good ten shades from pink to red while making a feeble attempt at beating on my chest with her fists. I kiss her until she calms down and melts into me.

Her head rests on my chest as she sighs in mock defeat.

Okay, Ace, what’s the other confession?

Oh, that… I pause nonchalantly for a dramatic effect. Did you know you talk in your sleep?

Yeah, sometimes. It used to drive Derrick crazy.

I ignore the mention of her douchebag ex-husband.

It seems you had a few things to get off your chest early this morning. I tap her on the nose.

Oh, God. What did I say this time? Her wide-eyed expression is priceless.

What you told me this morning? I already knew.

Her face screws up in confusion. You knew what?

That you were in love with me.

Her response is a series of blinks. I told you in my sleep.

Yeah.

She nods shyly.

I tilt her chin with my finger and look directly into her eyes. "Babe, you’ve made me so happy. I’ve wanted you—this, us—for so long."

A smile turns up the edges of her mouth, and I press a gentle kiss onto her lips. The intimate moment is spoiled by a pounding on her door.

That’ll be Lance.

We break apart so I can let him in. As I leave the room she mutters, He’d better keep his damned hands off my panties.

Indeed.

A few hours later, we’ve hauled Erynne’s personal stuff up to my apartment. The rest we can tackle a little at a time. The most important thing is having her clothes, makeup, and other toiletries in the penthouse. I couldn’t give a shit about dishes or boxes of Christmas decorations. To see her stuff mingled with mine in the closet is my only concern. It’s a damned fine sight, I might add.

The three of us sit down to a couple of cold beers and pizzas when Erynne’s phone rings and she puts it on speaker.

Hey, Maya. What’s up?

Where are you? I’m at your apartment. Did you forget we were going out for lunch?

Oops. Slight change of plans. I’m upstairs. I’ll come get you.

Visitors to my penthouse either need a pass key for the elevator or to be buzzed in from the lobby before coming to the twentieth floor. Both Erynne and Lance Jonas—my best friend, client, and future business partner—have a key. Maya will need one, too.

"…Well, he is good-looking," Erynne’s best friend is saying as they come through the door.

Yeah, but he’s a little on the creepy side.

Who? I ask her.

Dante.

What’s that bastard up to now?

Chapter Two

Erynne

What the hell did Dante Gregorius want this time?

Evan grits his teeth in irritation at the mention of my celebrity neighbor. The guy has hit on me more than once, all in Evan’s presence, thankfully. While most red-blooded American women would willingly succumb to his sexy Australian charm, something about him puts me on edge.

He came out of his apartment and was pumping Maya for information while she waited for me.

I knew he wasn’t going to leave you alone. His mind is set on seducing you—or trying to, at the very least. Evan scowls at the mention of the big-name movie star playboy who lives across the hall.

Oh, come on, Ace. I touch his arm. That’s not going to happen.

He ogled you in the elevator the other day. He’s got the hots for you.

You ogle me all the time. I joke, trying to inject levity into the conversation. Our day started off great, and I don’t want the notion of some self-centered ladies’ man ruining it.

That’s different, gorgeous. What did he want to know?

Maya shrugs. How serious you two were. How long I’ve known her. We didn’t talk too long, because Erynne showed up. Maya pauses. When I asked her why she wasn’t home and she said she moved upstairs he seemed a little displeased.

I guess now he knows how serious we are. Evan glances at me. You all right, Erynne?

I wrap my arms around his solidly trim waist. Yeah. I’m uncomfortable being around him.

All the more reason for you to move up here. He grins as if he won a bet.

Wait. Maya’s voice increases several octaves, the whole point of the conversation finally sinking in. "You moved in? Here? Already?"

I’m pretty sure I’m blushing when Evan answers. About time, right?

Maya’s eyes go as big as saucers. You don’t think this is a little…um…

Too soon? Nope. I wanted her here a month ago. The devil buries his face in my hair and nuzzles my neck.

Lance scoffs, hiding the sound behind a fake cough. What’s that all about?

****

This morning, when I awoke in Evan’s arms, it struck me. I was meant to be here. A tiny voice in my head prodded me to say those three little words I’d been avoiding. What was holding me back? I’d known for a while I had fallen hard for Evan Giamatti. Why shouldn’t I tell him?

Fear. Plain and simple.

Of what? I’m not sure exactly, but once the words were out, there would be no turning back. Then, the goddamned man gets down on his knees and spills his soul to me at breakfast. In that exact moment, I decided to move in. Still, I swore to myself I wouldn’t proclaim my love yet.

Except I did.

His lovemaking last night and this morning sealed the deal. If I didn’t say I love you, my heart was at risk of bursting on the spot.

Hey, sweetheart. Evan hugs me from behind, nuzzling my neck, sending chills racing across my skin. What’s up?

The sudden change in my relationship with Evan dances in my head as I gaze out over New York City in front of the enormous living room windows. Lance and Maya left some time ago.

Turning to face Evan, I wrap my arms around his neck. Thinking about us.

His whole body freezes. Please do not tell me you’re having second thoughts.

No. I’m not sure what to tell him.

Erynne. Out with it. A twinge of panic crosses his face.

I didn’t expect to say those words to you so soon. It seems silly to admit.

He doesn’t blink. The silence is tense, and his entire body goes rigid. You regret it.

Actual pain rolls through me when he squeezes his eyes shut. I brush my hand along his stubbled face to claim his attention.

No, that’s not it. I love you. I didn’t think I was ready to tell you. A knot inside me releases. Apparently, I was.

The relief in his posture and expression is palpable. It surprised you.

Yeah. A little bit.

Aw, babe… His kiss is at first soft, then demanding, as his lips devour mine. In an instant, my entire body awakens, hot and tingly, and ready for him.

****

Hi, Mom. I peck her on the cheek before sliding into the booth seat opposite her in the cafe.

Thanks for meeting me for lunch, dear. I know you’ve been so busy at work lately.

I smile and shake my head. Don’t be silly. I’m never too busy for you.

The waiter takes our orders right away, leaving us free to talk uninterrupted, which is a good thing because I’m nervous about how Mom is going to take my news. She was devastated when I announced I was divorcing Derrick.

Mom, I have something to tell you. Suddenly, my throat is dry as the Sahara. A long sip of my iced water with lemon only stalls the inevitable for a few seconds. It’s enough time for my mother to beat me to the punch.

Are you getting back together with Derrick? Her mom eyes are piercing, hopeful. This is not going to be easy. I take a deep breath and gather my courage.

First, I’m never getting back together with Derrick. You know that. A sourness in my gut threatens to kill whatever is left of my appetite.

Dear, we all make mistakes. I’m sure one little fling didn’t mean that much. When I talked to him this weekend…

Did a bomb just go off in here?

Wait. You talked to Derrick? This weekend?

She reaches for my hand.

"Calm down, Erynne. He called me. He had nothing bad to say about you. Actually, Derrick took all the blame for whatever happened. He says he’s sorry and wants you back. He asked me to talk to you."

The only reason I’ve let her go on is because I’m so stunned I don’t know what to say. Finally, I find my voice. I’m aware he wants a second chance. I can’t do that. There are things you don’t know, and you don’t want to know. Believe me. It was far more than a fling, Mom. Tears burn my eyes. I hate it. I’m done crying over that man and what he did to me. To us. To our marriage.

Mom squirms in her seat, refusing to meet my gaze. I never told you this, and never thought I would. Her heavy sigh tells me I’m not going to like what’s coming. Once, when you were about ten, your dad had an affair.

I definitely won’t be able to eat lunch if she keeps lobbing stuff like this at me. I’m incredulous. What did you say?

She’s embarrassed to be telling this story but continues nonetheless.

Your dad met a woman at a conference. She lived here in the city, too. It started strictly as a business connection, but over time things happened. One day, I stopped by his office to surprise him with lunch. She pauses to catch her breath and fight back her own tears. Reliving this is killing her.

Turns out, I was the one who was surprised. I walked into his office like I always did whenever the receptionist was out. Mom’s voice cracks and I see tears pooling. I feel sick.

Mom, you don’t have to…

I do. I have to tell you. She dabs at her eyes before continuing. They were in each other’s arms, and he was kissing her. Oh, God, Erynne. I was devastated.

With alarmingly bad timing, the