Star Struck (Hollywood Heat) Page 18

  He knew then that he wouldn’t tell her. Not that day, anyway. He needed more time. He needed to be sure she felt the same way about him as he did about her. Then he could tell her.

  Brushing his nose against her jaw, he said, “You better still know me when I build that cabin. I’m getting awfully attached.”

  She twisted her head to face him. “Are you really?”

  “I am. Really.”

  She turned more into him and he released her so she could cup his face with her hand. “I’ve gotten attached to you too.” It was a whisper, barely a spark of confidence behind it, but it only took a spark to start a fire. He’d take it. If that’s all she ever had to offer, he’d take it.

  He leaned in to claim her mouth, the plump lips that had teased him all afternoon. Just before his mouth met hers, she said, “Even though you made me rough it today.”

  “Oh, princess, you haven’t seen rough yet.”

  Then he showed her rough, crushing her to him and burrowing his tongue into her mouth. He loved the feel of her tongue gliding against his. He captured it, sucking before he bit into the tender skin. She mewled and the sexy sound fueled his desire. Taking her face in his hands, he kissed her with the intensity he planned to use when he burrowed his cock inside her later. Soon. Real soon at the rate that he was thickening and hardening below.

  Heather twisted in his lap to straddle him and ground her pelvis into his crotch, pressing her tits into his chest. She was not helping the situation. He needed more of her. Now.

  Moving his arms to cradle her ass, he stood. Without missing a beat, she wrapped her legs around him. Jesus, she fit him perfectly, lining up with him just so. He could fuck her like this, moving up against a tree or his truck when his legs weakened.

  But it was midday and she was a celebrity, and even though they’d seen no one so far, that could change at any moment. He carried her instead toward the tent, not breaking their kiss until they reached the opening. With reluctance, he set her down and held open the flap for her.

  “Get in.” His voice was strained, almost as strained as his pants.

  She bent over to crawl in and he couldn’t resist swatting her lovely behind as she did. She let out a shriek, and his cock leapt. Then he was inside with her, flattening her into the sleeping bags he’d rolled out for comfort, minimal comfort that it was on the lumpy ground.

  Heather didn’t seem to mind, rolling around as she wrestled with him to remove his shirt. It was a battle since his hands were intent on staying where they were—one pulling through her hair, the other clasping her breast. After a few minutes of struggle, he pulled away with a frustrated groan.

  “Get naked,” he commanded.

  He loved how she obeyed him, stripping without any delay. He removed his clothes faster than she, so he watched her, stroking his length while he did. It wasn’t that he needed to fluff—he was already hard as stone—but seeing her undress was such a big fucking turn-on, he couldn’t keep his hands off himself. Especially when her eyes clouded with lust as he moved his hand up and down, up and down.

  But it wasn’t enough. He needed her. Needed inside her. Needed to taste her.

  “Kneel,” he commanded next. She did, and he lay down on his back in front of her, his head facing up at her gorgeous round tits. In a fluid movement, he pulled her forward over him, spreading her thighs with his hands so that her opening was at his mouth. He circled her clit with his nose and inhaled. Fuck, she smelled delicious—musky and sexy and wet for him.

  With one long swipe of his tongue, he covered her slit from one end to the other. She moaned and he did it again. Reaching his hands up to grab her ass, he stroked her and laved her with his tongue. He clutched his fingers into her skin to hold her in place as she twitched above him, continuing his assault with fierce tenacity.

  But then her lips were on him—on his cock—and his rhythm faltered as she assumed her own movement sucking up and down his length, her breasts bouncing against his abdomen. Holy shit, her mouth felt like stepping into a hot tub, so good and too much all at once. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d sixty-nined with someone. Why didn’t he do this more often? It was so…so…amazing.

  It was also so hard to keep focused. And each pass of her tongue brought him closer to climax which he was determined to do inside her, and not in her mouth.

  Summoning to mind nuns and puppies, he renewed his attack. He brought a hand down to finger fuck her as he licked and swirled his tongue around her bud. With his other hand, he swatted her ass, not able to get quite the smack he’d like at that angle, but certain he marked her just the same.

  She cried and twitched, and he could feel her tightening around his fingers. Another smack and she was there, shuddering over him, spilling over his hand, crying out as she came and came and came.

  Now it would be his turn.

  He flipped her over, her body still quaking, and aligned his form with hers. Grabbing her ankles, he bent her legs up, spreading her open as he did. Then he drove in, impaling her deeply. Without pause, he pulled out and rocked into her again, his thrusts assuming a vigorous tempo. His muscles began to tense, and his vision darkened when he felt her clenching around him, signaling she was coming a second time.

  He joined her, spots of white light sparking before his eyes as his climax ripped through him. When he could think again, he realized he still had a vice-grip on her ankles. He released her, rubbing the indentations he’d left on her skin. “Jesus, did I hurt you?”

  “Nope. Not in the least,” she purred. She tugged at his arm, urging him to the ground next to her. He lay down beside her and she curled into him.

  It felt good. Damn good, lying with her pressed against his chest, her sweat mixed with his, their labored breathing the only sound. He stroked her hair, taking it all in—every scent, every sensation, absorbing it into every fiber of his being, letting it hold him in a state of dreamlike peace.

  “I was such a bitch.”

  He waded back into consciousness, his brow furrowing as he struggled to pinpoint what Heather was talking about. “When?”

  “Always. Since you met me.”

  He chuckled. “I haven’t been that nice myself.”

  “But I was…” She drew her fingers randomly along his chest as if searching for her words. “I was truly horrible. The way I treated you…Why did you put up with me?”

  Seth thought a minute, remembering the beautiful flash of vulnerability he’d seen in her, how he wanted to see more of it, how he sensed it was something to be treasured. And, damn had he been right. But how could he ever explain how he knew that back then?

  He circled his nose in her hair. “Have you ever heard sculptors talk about the art that was hiding in the block of clay?”

  She nodded against his chest.

  “It’s the same with wood. When the pieces are lying there spread apart, I can see what they can become—something completely different, yet totally the same. The thing they want to be. Don’t ask me how, but just like that I could see it for you. I could see what you wanted to be.”

  “What was that?”

  “Loved.”

  Sixteen

  Heather pressed her foot down on the gas, heading the truck toward the rear of the empty parking lot. Though she’d never had a real interest in learning to drive, she’d adored the three weeks of lessons Seth had given her, and not just because it meant spending time with him, sneaking off together almost every day to a nearby church lot after shoot. The rush of picking up speed, of having utter control of a vehicle—incredible.

  She’d also discovered driving was a good way to blow off steam when she’d had a long day or when she needed to relax, like tonight when she was anxious about her Jenna Markham interview the next day. If she did drugs she’d guess she’d been high when she agreed to do the damn thing. But it wasn’t drugs—it was Seth.

  “Now, ease on the brakes.” He sat next to her, his knee bouncing with obvious anxiety.

  She th
rew her foot on the brake pedal, her head lashing forward from the sudden stop.

  “Ease! I said ease!” His hand shot out to brace himself on the dash. “You’d think you’d have that down by now.”

  “Come on, my way is more fun.” The best part of their lessons was messing with Seth, who seemed to find her preferred method of driving quite stressful.

  “It’s more like a roller coaster ride, yes, but that doesn’t necessarily make it more fun.”

  “Are you sure? Let’s find out. Hold on!” With a saucy grin, she turned the truck toward the center of the empty lot. Gaining speed she did her best attempt at a donut. “Woo hoo!”

  Seth curled his fingers into her thigh, his other hand still gripping the dashboard. “What are you…? Heather! Oh my God, you’re going to kill us. Heather, stop!”

  She slammed her foot on the brake again, not because she didn’t know how to slow down, but because she enjoyed seeing Seth’s pained expression.

  “Okay, I can’t take this anymore. We’re done for the day. Trade me places.”

  “Killjoy.” Heather put the truck in park, turned it off, and scooted out from under the wheel. She inched her dress up so she could move over Seth, who sat in the middle of the bench. But instead of continuing over him, she straddled him and stayed.

  “Whatcha doin?” he asked, his hands already finding their way to her ass.

  “It seems my teacher’s a little stressed.” She ran her hands down his arms, thrilling in the feel of the tight muscles poking out underneath the sleeves of his T-shirt. “Maybe I can help him relax.”

  “Hmm, hard to say since you’re the reason he needs to relax.” He ran his fingers up and down her back in delicious random strokes. “I’m surprised you aren’t stressed, what with your big interview tomorrow and all.”

  Heather was definitely nervous about the Jenna Markham interview. She’d turned down the request so many times that when Lexie finally told them ‘yes’ on Heather’s behalf, Jenna’s people had to call back and make sure it was legit. It had been a pretty big change of heart. Before she’d met Seth, Heather would never have considered spilling her guts to Jenna on national television. But now she was sort of okay with the whole idea. More than okay, she was actually looking forward to it.

  “The Jenna Markham thing? Piece of cake.”

  “Well, then, if you’re stress-free, maybe you can help me join you.”

  She smiled, then leaned in to claim his mouth, letting her smile disappear into his. She started the kiss soft and sweet, gently grazing his lips before she let her tongue tango with his, building into a fire that spread through her chest right down to her center.

  God, she loved kissing him.

  Loved.

  That word. Seth had said she wanted to be loved. She hadn’t stopped thinking about it in the three weeks that had followed their camp date. The three glorious weeks that had followed. They had spent every free moment together on set, and though no one said anything, their affair wasn’t a secret from the cast and crew. Good thing everyone had signed non-disclosure agreements, otherwise Seth and Heather would be plastered all over the gossip mags by now.

  They were careful off set, always leaving separately, and meeting in private locations. The lot they practiced driving in was always empty. Seth hadn’t been to her house and she hadn’t been to his, still spending their nights apart for fear of a paparazzi bust. Instead, her trailer had become their love nest. There were as many of his possessions there as hers, his clothes littered the bedroom floor, his manly body wash hung in the bathroom caddy. She would live there with him if she could. Holed up with all she ever needed—a kitchen, a bed, and Seth. As it was, they were always the last to leave the lot at night.

  It wasn’t lost on her that she’d spent her entire adult life running from the trailer she grew up in and now the trailer that she half-lived in with Seth was her favorite place to be. Ironic and absolutely fine.

  And through all their time together—through every shared shower and lunchtime delight—Seth’s word had clung to her. Loved. She had wanted to be loved.

  It wasn’t untrue—in fact, it was maybe the truest thing anyone had ever said about her.

  But there was so much that was left unsaid, questions that Seth’s comment had sparked. Was he saying that he loved her? Or that he could love her? Or that he wanted to do the action of loving which didn’t necessarily mean the feeling of loving? Or did he simply mean that he knew she wanted to be loved?

  He hadn’t brought it up again, and she didn’t try to either. Mostly because before she could address it, she’d have to figure out what she wanted him to mean. More than that, she’d have to figure out how she felt about him.

  And that was a mystery she hadn’t yet solved. Not entirely.

  She felt things for him, things that weren’t just sexual. She’d gotten past his lack of status and he no longer reminded her of her own history. And the rough sex—she was getting used to that too. Craved it, in fact. She couldn’t wait to be manhandled and played with, even when they’d just gone at it.

  But there was still something that held her back from saying the “L” word. She suspected that something had to do with how she felt about herself. How could she love another person when she couldn’t love herself? It was a familiar notion, trite even, but that didn’t keep it from holding weight. Before she could move on with Seth, she’d have to let go. The surprising thing—the amazing, wonderful, magical thing—was that for the first time ever, Seth made her feel like she could. Truly and completely let go.

  She was ready.

  And her next-day interview with Jenna was the perfect opportunity to both let go and move on. It was time.

  But first, she had to get her brave on and ask Seth the question she’d been avoiding.

  After one last sweet sweep of his lips with her tongue, Heather put her hands on his shoulders and pushed back. She took a moment to gaze at him, struck not for the first time by how good-looking he was. Reaching her hand up to his face, she rubbed her thumb across his jaw, scruffy from the long day.

  He covered her hand with his. “What’s going on in that pretty head? I can hear the wheels turning.”

  She brushed her teeth across her lip. “I was just trying to figure out what we’re doing.”

  “Well, you were learning to drive, and I was teaching you. Which wasn’t going so hot. Now we’re making out. And that’s going real hot.”

  “That’s not what I meant.” She laughed. “I meant, what are we doing?” Her voice lost its volume, not of her own accord. “You and me. Together.”

  “Oh. Yeah. I wondered when this conversation would come up.” His eyes remained on hers, which was both reassuring and unnerving.

  She grabbed a handful of his shirt in each of her fists, needing something to channel her nervousness into. “It might have come up sooner, but usually another thing comes up and talking gets postponed.”

  “That other thing is threatening to come up now too.”

  Heather followed his eyes down to his crotch where she already felt movement.

  “Down boy, down,” he said.

  “Soon, I promise.” Though, she was tempted to forget the talking this time too. Seth’s dick was quite a distraction.

  Peeling her eyes and her mind away from his growing erection, Heather returned her stare to his face. “So? Thoughts?”

  Seth sank into the seat and moved his hands to run them up and down her bare thighs. When he spoke, it was slowly and with caution. “I think we’re more than just sex. Don’t you?”

  In contrast, her response was quick. “Yep. Definitely.” Her eyes flicked back to his stiffy. “Though the sex is really, really awesome.”

  “Yes. It is.”

  “But there is more to us.” She bit her lip again. “Right?”

  “I let you drive my truck. Nobody drives my truck. No matter how good they are in bed.”

  “That does imply a certain level of fondness for me.” His hands on
her thighs…they were doing crazy things to her. She had to regroup or the conversation would be lost in physical connection. “So then what are we?”

  His hands paused. “Are you asking if I’m your boyfriend?”

  “Actually, I was asking if I’m your girlfriend.”

  He cocked his head. “I’d like to think you are.” He cleared his throat. “I do think you are. I have for a while. But I know that you’re wary about these things. I don’t take what you’ve already given me for granted.”

  I do think you are. It was hard to concentrate on everything he’d said after that, she was so giddy after his simple declaration. What had he said? Something about taking it slow for her? “I appreciate that. That you’ve put up with my need to go slow.” Wary, he’d said. “And I am wary. Because of what the media will turn it into. What they’ll say about us. But lately, I don’t really give a shit. They could say whatever they want about me and you, it doesn’t matter. And I…enjoy you so much, I want to tell everyone.” The words tumbled out. She couldn’t have stopped them if she’d wanted to, and she didn’t want to.

  His brows rose, and if she wasn’t mistaken, he’d stiffened. “You want to go public about us?”

  He wasn’t ready. She’d thought he would be just because she was, but maybe she’d misjudged. “I was thinking maybe. Yeah. In my interview with Jenna Markham tomorrow. Maybe that’s stupid? I’m sorry, I guess I assumed that you would want that, but I don’t want to—”

  He cut her off with a finger to her lips. “Heather. Stop it. I didn’t say no.”

  “So what do you think?”

  His hand trailed down her throat, caressing her skin. “I could think of worse things than being paired with a beautiful and talented movie star.”

  She let out the breath she’d been holding, elated by his response, yet still mindful of what she was asking. “You can’t take this lightly. This would be huge.”