The Blitzed Series Boxed Set: Five Contemporary Romance Novels Read online

  A sudden noise onscreen startles us and we turn to it. Then gape. A maid is giving another woman a bath in an old-fashioned tub, and the scene is intensely erotic.

  “Perfect,” Blitz says in my ear, then his mouth moves to my neck, kissing along my collarbone. His hand moves to the bottom of my sweater, and then I get what I want, his fingers brushing my skin.

  An electric charge bolts through me. I want to moan with the pleasure of it, but try to stay calm and quiet. I have to keep some sort of control, although thinking back, that was never my strong suit. I was impulsive once. Passionate. I let emotion carry me way beyond society’s boundaries.

  His fingers travel up along my ribs and rest at the base of the bra. I don’t require much, and there is no underwire or thick cups for him to wrangle with. He doesn’t hesitate, but slips his thumb beneath the fabric and touches me without hindrance.

  Now I can’t stop from groaning near his ear. His mouth returns to mine, taking my tongue in deeply. I fall into the kiss, his touch, my own hand gripping his leg in the jeans.

  My body arches toward him. I wish we weren’t here, in these seats, separated by the silly armrest. I want fully against him, so close. Everything is flooding back, every feeling, every need. I don’t care that I’ve only known Blitz two weeks. I understand him. I see what nobody else does. How he can really be.

  I break the kiss and look around the theater. No one is here. We’re well into the movie. Nobody is going to come.

  Summoning every bit of daring I possess, I stand up and turn to Blitz.

  He looks up at me in surprise, probably wondering if he’s taken things too far and I’m going to leave.

  But I slip my knees on either side of his thighs and slide forward, straddling him as best I can with seats on either side. My skirt gets trapped between us, so I jerk it free and let it fall across my thighs.

  His hands go to my legs beneath it, caressing the skin.

  “No dance tights,” he says.

  “Finally,” I say.

  I wrap my arms around his neck. I’m slightly taller than him in this position. I could lift up and my chest would be at face level for him. I think of doing it, but his hands slide up my thighs and the buzzing is so intense that I stop thinking.

  He’ll encounter the panties soon. My heart threatens to falter. I hold my breath. He whispers, “Your skin is perfect,” then his lips find mine again.

  Blitz doesn’t push, just trailing his fingers along my inner thigh.

  Then his thumb brushes between my legs, and I’m jolted into the next level of need, wanting the touch harder, more intense. I kiss him with more fervor, letting him know that this is okay, that I want it.

  His hand presses against me, molding the cotton fabric to my body. A finger finds its mark, pushing as far as the panties will allow.

  I can’t kiss anymore, too lost in the roar of sensation overwhelming me. I want him inside, need him inside. I’m desperate and rock my hips to press harder against his hand.

  “I love this,” he says. “God, you’re so hot and wet.”

  I hang on to him, my arms around his head, my face pressed into his hair. I take in the smell of his shampoo, the texture of his sideburn stubble on my cheek.

  Then he takes it further, slipping a finger inside my panties. I can’t stop myself from softly crying out. It’s what I’ve been longing for, desperate for.

  He slides one finger inside me, then two. I cling to him, moving with him, pleasure blasting through me. He knows exactly what to do and how to move, where to put the pressure.

  When I was young and playing around before, it was thrilling and forbidden, but this is pure gluttony by a practiced hand. I’ve never felt so consumed.

  His free hand slips back inside my sweater, up beneath the bra. He rolls a nipple just as he shifts his fingers inside my body. I’ve lost all sense of anything around me but his touch, and the need for him has become agonizing and fierce. I don’t think I can take it anymore. It’s too much, too intense, I can’t back away, can’t retreat.

  Then everything just lets go. My body pulses around his fingers and I gasp, half-crying, gulping air. I’ve never felt anything like it. It’s like my body turned inside-out and released a thousand petals that are now descending like feathers brushing against my skin.

  I grip his head. “What did you just do?” I ask, then immediately feel silly. I know about orgasm. And I thought I’d felt it before. But I hadn’t. Not if this is the real thing. That was nothing. That was just the beginning. I hadn’t known.

  Blitz withdraws his hands and wraps his arms around me. “My sweet, sweet Livia,” he says. “I’m going to fall so hard for you.”

  I drop my head to his shoulder, eyes wide. Will he? What happens now? I want to do more with him, explore him, learn his body. But he just holds me tightly and still.

  Behind us, the movie goes on, inexplicable in its foreign language. It doesn’t matter. I don’t even want to see it. I just want Blitz to hold me like he is, forever, and for nothing to change.

  But I know that can’t happen. The video will come out. Everyone will see that Blitz is more than his mistake. That he is making amends. That he is sweet and kind and children love him.

  Then he’ll be gone.

  Chapter 20

  Wednesday morning I plan to dress for the academy and see Blitz, but my mother has other ideas.

  She comes into my room far earlier than usual. “Your father has signed you up for an all-day study class for the SAT,” she says. “I’m going to go with you. Andy is staying with the Wallers.” Mindy’s family.

  I want to refuse to do it, to say no. I want to see Blitz. He’s only going to be at the academy another week.

  But after yesterday, surely he won’t leave. Surely he wants to learn me too.

  “Hop in the shower,” Mom says. “We leave in half an hour.”

  I was up half the night texting Blitz, so I’m definitely off schedule. As soon as she leaves the room, I race to the desk drawer where I’ve hidden the phone. In order to charge it, I’ve kept the drawer out a little, placed the phone behind it, and plugged it in directly behind the back panel, so nothing can be seen.

  There are several messages this morning. He’s heading up to see the Tappin’ Grandmas soon. Hannah has made the video team work all night on the video and there should be a rough cut to view this afternoon. He hopes I can come up and see it with him.

  No no no no. I won’t be able to do any of that!

  I let him know about the class and that my mom is staying with me all day. I want to weep, pretend I’m sick, jump out the window. No no no no!

  I have zero interest in showering, dressing, or eating breakfast. I’m doing my best to keep a poker face as Mom drives us to Mindy’s house to drop off Andy, but I can barely hold it together.

  Mindy comes out to the car while Mom walks Andy in, and it’s everything I can do not to tell her everything right there and risk getting overheard. I do show her the phone and when her eyes get big, I just say, “Blitz.”

  This is enough to make her jump up and down. I give her the number and now she can text me too. Little by little, I’m back in the world.

  I ask Blitz to let me know how he’s doing throughout the day. I’ll do whatever I have to do, pretend to have a weak bladder and take a bathroom break every hour, whatever. I can’t think about anything else and going to an SAT class is going to be pointless.

  Even so, once I’m in the room with other people, Mom taking up a corner to make sure I don’t jump anyone’s bones, I guess, the studiousness of the others infects me. I’m out in the world. I’m moving forward. Maybe I can apply for other schools anyway. I don’t need my parents’ permission for that.

  As we work on critical-reading passages, I find I’m able to shove the rest of my life out of my mind and really dig into how to dissect the sentences to answer the multiple-choice questions. To my surprise, I’m actually doing better at this than anybody else in the class.
/>   Of course, maybe that’s why they are here, because they aren’t doing well.

  For lunch, Mom takes me to a small cafe in the same strip mall as the class. A few of the other students also go, and two girls strike up a conversation with me in line. I think I might get to sit with real people my age, but unfortunately, before we can order, a boy joins them at their table.

  Mom steers us to the other side of the room.

  I have to get out of here.

  In the bathroom, I dig the phone out of the bottom of my bag and scroll through Blitz’s messages.

  Back at home. Mom is making enchiladas. Probably won’t fit in my costumes even if I do get the show back.

  Hope your prep class isn’t too boring. Don’t think about my hand up your skirt while you’re solving equations.

  Hannah says the sample video will be ready to view mid-afternoon. Wish you were in it. I don’t even have a picture of you. We’ll have to fix that.

  I hug the phone to my chest. I just want to read the messages over and over, but I know Mom is waiting. So I quickly tap out a reply.

  Love your messages. Thank you. Prep okay. I’m doing better than I thought. If I bomb, it will be your fault!

  P.S. Wearing a shorter skirt today.

  I power the phone all the way off and stick it back in the bottom of my bag. I’m going to sneak out tonight, I’ve decided. And if we get the chance, if it feels right, I’m going to move forward with Blitz. I want to. I want him. It’s been so long.

  I’ll be careful this time. I will guard myself. No risk taking.

  The main thing I’m putting on the line this time is my heart.

  Chapter 21

  When the interminable full-day SAT prep is finally over, Mom declares she is too tired to cook.

  Mindy’s mom insists that Andy and I stay for dinner so that Mom can relax a bit with Dad without us around.

  We all jump at the chance for this. I wonder wildly if I can say I’m spending the night, then leave for home and end up having an entire night with Blitz!

  But watching Mindy and her mom work together in the kitchen to make dinner for all of us, I can’t do it. She’s just sixteen and I can’t get her in trouble on my account.

  Her mom sees how anxious we are to talk and waves us off to Mindy’s room. She doesn’t have a rule about keeping her door open, so as soon as we’re alone in there, Mindy pulls out her phone.

  “It’s out, Livia. You have to see it.”

  “What’s out?”

  “The video.”

  Oh my God. I dig my phone out of my bag and power it back on. There are a slew of messages from Blitz. He’s seen the video. He loves it. He’s given the green light. Can I come over and watch it with him?

  If only I could. Maybe I’ll sneak out after I get home. Maybe I’ll just run away!

  “Play it play it play it,” I tell Mindy.

  She holds out her phone. The video already has a couple hundred thousand views and it’s only been up for three hours.

  The title is “Blitz Craven’s precious new dance partners.”

  It opens with a few seconds of the girls prepping, powder on faces, hair getting braided. Then the mirror of Studio 3 and an empty room. The girls come in, the images carefully close up to show only their faces. Then Blitz holds his arms out to greet them.

  He goes down the line, straightening their arms and adjusting their chins. They move together, arms in fifth position, framing their faces.

  Then Blitz turns in a circle, the view pans out, and you see the wheelchairs.

  It’s very powerful.

  There are a few more seconds of dancing and turns, the middle section of their recital piece, and then they do the half circle around Blitz.

  I know I’m behind Marissa in this shot, as I’ve moved her chair. The camera closes in on Daisy, then Gabriella. My Gabriella!

  Then he looks up, and his face is just as I remember in the moment, so full of emotion. My heart catches.

  “I think I just fell in love,” Mindy says.

  The video fades out with the words “Any dancer can be a star.”

  “That is wow,” I say.

  “Look at the comments.” Mindy scrolls down. Other than one or two who still call Blitz evil and horrid, most are swooning over the video and how he treated the dancers. One says, “He had me at minute 2:17.” A bunch of others agree.

  We go back up to the video. Sure enough, it’s that look he gives the camera, raw, naked, vulnerable.

  The look he gave me.

  I pull out my phone. I’m not even sure what to say. That it’s going to work? That I love it? And maybe him? That I want to spend the night with him? That I’m the luckiest girl on the planet?

  I tap out something simple instead.

  The video was incredibly beautiful. I am so proud to have been there. You are perfect.

  I can feel the smile in his response and picture his happy expression.

  The thing that made it work was you.

  And then another.

  You make me a better man.

  I show it to Mindy. She falls back on her bed. “This is the most romantic thing, like, ever.”

  Then she rolls on her side. “You think he’ll get his show back?”

  I don’t want to think about that. “Let’s watch it again,” I say.

  And we do, over and over, reading new comments, until Mindy’s mother calls us to dinner.

  I’m afraid it is the beginning of the end.

  Chapter 22

  By the time I get home, I’m determined to escape. I’ll take any risk, do anything.

  But Mom and Dad don’t go to bed at their normal time. They’ve had a good evening together, and they dawdle on everything, insisting Andy and I watch a classic movie with them until Andy falls asleep.

  It’s almost midnight before I even get a chance to text Blitz, and that’s only because I hole up in the bathroom.

  Where are you now? I ask him.

  Hannah has us all in her hotel suite, reviewing social media activity and having a strategy team react.

  Are other people Tweeting for you now?

  Hell yeah. Hannah says she’d rather have Donald Trump handle my Twitter account than me.

  I don’t want to pull him away. It’s obviously an important night. I hear footsteps in the hall and quickly flush the toilet. While I run water to pretend to wash my hands, I text him one more time before I have to stop until my parents are asleep.

  I’m so happy it has gone well. Can’t wait to see it with you in person.

  He doesn’t respond right away. I picture him in a room with a dozen people, trying to find moments to look at his phone. It’s okay. I know this is bigger than me. It will always be bigger than any girl, especially a shy homeschooled girl who hasn’t gone anywhere near a television studio.

  I tuck the phone in my bra and hurry to my room, afraid that someone might notice the bulge. I can’t imagine anything more devastating than losing this phone right now.

  I finally go to sleep in the wee hours. I’m going up to the academy tomorrow whether Mom likes it or not. I won’t go another day without Blitz. I’m not sure I have many left.

  ~*´♥`*~

  When I make it to the academy the next afternoon, everyone is talking about Blitz.

  Moms have their phones out, playing the video. Danika runs around, pushing dancers into their classes.

  I know Blitz isn’t here yet, because I asked him. He is coming early before the hip-hop group, though, and we’ll dance together before class.

  I’m wearing pink today, a ribbon woven into my elaborate braids. If I owned makeup, I’d sure as heck be wearing it. But this is how Blitz knows me. I can’t change anything. I’m not going to compete with those sexy dancers on his show by trying to beat them at their own game. I have to stay the same, no matter how much panic I feel that he’s slipping away.

  “You doing okay, Livia?” Suze asks me as I approach the desk.

  “Sure,” I sa
y. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  She steals a glance over at Danika before she says, “You know about Blitz, right?”

  My stomach falls. He didn’t tell me anything had changed. “He said he’d be here for hip-hop.”

  At this point, Danika comes forward and takes my arm. “Let’s go for a little walk, Livia.”

  “He’s on his way,” I tell Suze. “Can you let him know where I am?” I know it’s desperate, but I want to establish that he comes for me. That we’re more than just a couple people who flirt in dance class. That I really do know more than she does about Blitz.

  Danika leads me to her office. “Sit down, Livia,” she says, dropping into her oversized chair behind her desk. Her blue hair is electric against the dark brown leather. Her voice is kind, but it puts me on guard. I feel like she’s going to warn me off Blitz now. She has no idea how far things have already gone. No one does.

  I sit in a cushioned chair opposite her, warm with my secret. I’m old hat at forbidden romance. There is nothing she can do to change how I feel or what I want.

  “Livia, Blitz is not coming up here today.”

  I sit up in the chair. “Yes, he is. I just spoke to him.”

  “Within the past fifteen minutes?” Her voice is still kind, like she’s having to give me a talking-to but doesn’t want to come off as an authoritarian.

  Still, I rebel. “Before I walked over here.”

  “I just asked him not to come. He’s going back to LA tonight, and I felt a protracted good-bye could do more harm than good.”

  My whole body freezes. Tonight? Already? Why hadn’t he told me?

  “We just shot the video two days ago!” I exclaim.

  “And he’s all over the media already. He’s getting bookings on morning shows, late-night shows, press in every direction. I’m calling a meeting with all the girls’ parents this evening to discuss how to maintain their privacy during this.”

  I sit back. “You think they’ll be in danger?” I picture photographers stalking Gwen and Gabriella and my panic rises.