Star Struck Read online

  “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 grasp 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 on his back in front of her, his head facing up at her gorgeous round tits. In a fluid movement, he pulled her over him until her head hovered over his pelvis, and spread 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-nine’d 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 inside 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 vise-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 sculptor’s 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.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Heather pressed on the gas pedal, 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 was 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. It wasn’t drugs—it was Seth.

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

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

  “Ease! I said ease!” He shot his hand 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 off the car, 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. Instead of continuing over him, she twisted to straddle 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. Now, she was 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 non-disclosure contracts, otherwise Seth and Heather would be plastered all over the gossip mags by now.

  They were careful off set, always leaving separately, meeting up in private locations. The lot where they practiced driving 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 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 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 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 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 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. 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 let go. Truly and completely.

  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. She reached for his face and 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 fist, needing a place to channel her nervousness. “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 by 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 in to. 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.”

  “I know.”

  “The press can be really uncool. They seriously encroach upon your life.”

  “I get it. I’ve
thought about it already.”

  “You have?”

  “I have. How could I not? I’m with you all the time. I see it from the sidelines. It’s brutal, I can tell. I hate that you go through it alone. I’d be honored to share that spotlight with you.” He stretched forward to rub his nose against hers. “But mostly, just because I want to be everywhere with you. And if that means I have to put up with a bunch of dickwads with cameras and gossip mouths, then so be it.”

  “That’s really nice of you.”

  “Yeah, you’re supposed to do nice things like that for your girlfriend.”

  “Girlfriend.” A lovely thrill ran through her veins at the word.

  Seth leaned back. “Are we too old to be saying girlfriend/boyfriend? Because I am thirty-eight, you know.”

  “I’m still twenty-nine, so we’re good.” Wait, she should probably tell her boyfriend her real age. Though she’d never told Collin her real age. Then again, she and Collin were never that serious, and Seth…Seth was different.

  “Damn, I’m robbing the cradle,” he said.

  Covering her face with her hand, she said more to herself than to him, “It’s not a good idea to start an official relationship with a lie.”

  Seth tensed. “What did you say?”

  She couldn’t believe she was doing this. She never told anyone her real age. “I’m not really twenty-nine. I’m thirty-three.”

  “What?”

  “Twenty-nine is what’s on my resume. Thirty-three, according to my birth certificate.”

  He relaxed and laughed a wonderful sexy laugh that made her thighs tickle. “My girlfriend lies about her age? That’s great.”

  “Girlfriend.” Was it possible she’d never tire of that word? Just hearing Seth say it made her girl parts squeeze with need. “I really like the sound of that.”

  “Me too.”

  “I mean, really, really.” In the small cab of the truck, she could smell her desire. “Like, I have to have you. Like now.” She sat forward and began kissing up his neck and underneath his jaw. And could she help it if her pelvis was suddenly twitchy, causing her to wriggle on his lap?