Sex Symbol Read online

  He nodded.

  “And directing.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Hmm, now that would be fun.”

  “Directing?”

  “Being directed by you.”

  Her eyes widened at his brazen comment. She quickly finished off her Corona, attempting to calm her nerves. How on earth did this stranger manage to fluster her like that? Turn her inside out so easily?

  She played with the label of her empty bottle as she fought to stay on solid ground, steering away from his innuendo. “Yeah, so directing is my thing. But of course, it’s difficult to break into that biz, so I’m interested in all things film at the moment. Sound, camera, you name it. Screenwriting just fell into the mix because when you’re a kid growing up wanting to direct, you needed material to direct so you could practice. I’ve got three full-length films under my belt. Indies, but still…and I start an internship with an amazing film crew on Monday.” She stopped, realizing she was babbling.

  “I’m intrigued.” He took the bottle from her and set it on the grass next to his.

  Without the bottle in her hands she felt vulnerable. And was he sitting closer than he was a moment ago? She returned to her jabber, unable to organize her thoughts. “It’s really not that interesting. I’ll be a production assistant, the lowest of—”

  “That’s not what I’m intrigued with,” he interrupted, his voice husky.

  Maddie met his eyes and saw a flicker of desire. He wanted her, it was obvious. Why not? For one night, why not live carefree?

  She tilted her head toward him and steeled herself to tempt his seduction. “Then tell me, what is intriguing you?”

  In one swift move, he had her pressed against the wall, his mouth hovering above her own. The rough stone behind her barely registered as she licked her lips in anticipation of the kiss she knew was coming.

  But he didn’t lean in. Instead, he brought his finger to her cheek and caressed it softly. She shuddered at the electric pulses that followed his light touch as he traced her jaw line. When he reached her chin, he lifted her face up to within an inch of his mouth. She felt his breath, hot and sweet, on her face. And then his mouth was on hers, tugging at her bottom lip, teasing her until she eagerly drew him in, wrapping her arms around his neck.

  The kiss built, each stroke varying in pressure and intensity. Soft nips evolved into frenzied exploration, their tongues dancing, plunging deeply and hungrily. She savored the taste of him. A rush of pleasure rippled through her and she trembled under his attentive suckling.

  His mouth released hers, traveled along her jaw and down her throat, his trail of kisses searing her skin. She clung to a fistful of his thick hair while he alternately nibbled and nuzzled her neck, stoking the fire in her core. When he raised his head to reclaim her lips, she glimpsed a greedy longing in his eyes.

  He pressed tighter against her and Maddie could feel the bulge of his erection against her hip. She drew in a sharp breath, and he grinned against her mouth before recapturing it in his.

  Desperate to feel more of his body against her own, for him to touch her more intimately, she arched her back, pushing her chest deeper into him. He read her cue and brought his hand down over her shirt to cup her breast. He stroked his thumb firmly over her nipple until it stood up under the contact.

  “Damn,” he said, his tone pleased.

  For once, Maddie was grateful that her chest, though on the smaller side, was firm enough to wear built-in shelf tank tops without bras.

  He continued his assault on her other breast. Maddie moaned, her hips rocking up instinctively looking for something more, something her rational brain would have told her was inappropriate to seek from a man she’d just met. Hell, she didn’t even know his name. But her rational thought was lost within the flood of passion brought on by his equally fervent ardor.

  She raised her hips again, and this time he responded by moving his hand to the inside of her upper leg. Softly, he caressed her thigh, journeying up slowly until he reached her panties. She gasped as his fingers moved underneath the elastic and found her taut bud. Holy fuck! She relaxed her legs to give him better access, letting him know she wanted more.

  And man, did he deliver. With the pad of his finger, he stroked and swirled her tender flesh. Expertly, he increased the pressure to her swollen bundle of nerves until she was lost in glorious sensation. His mouth recaptured hers, swallowing her cry of pleasure as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed through her, and she shuddered uncontrollably.

  His kissing slowed, and when she had calmed enough to resume a modicum of control, he pulled his lips away and rested his forehead against hers. “Would you join me somewhere even more private?” he asked, his engorged shaft still pressing hot against her hip.

  Yes, yes, a million times yes! Even in the afterglow of her release, she desired him, longed to bring him to his own climax. Still panting, she opened her mouth to answer when a not-too-far-off voice interrupted her.

  “Maddie! Maddie! Is that you?”

  Bree.

  Maddie turned from the handsome stranger and saw her near-naked friend peering at her from a few feet away.

  “It is you!” Bree squealed. “I’m so, so, so, so happy I found you. I really think you need to take me—”

  Bree’s sentence was cut off as she vomited all over the lawn.

  The man shook his head. “I see you’re needed…Maddie, is it?”

  “I…I’m…” She felt torn between responsibility and recklessness. She wanted to leave Bree to figure out her own mess rather than give up this magnificent creature in her arms. Maybe it would teach her a lesson. But Bree was in no condition to handle herself. Maddie sighed with frustration.

  “I totally understand.” He released her from his embrace. “I won’t say I’m not disappointed—very disappointed—but I understand.”

  “I’m sorry. Truly sorry.” She stood reluctantly, and glowered at Bree, now on her hands and knees sobbing. Maddie readjusted her skirt and took a step toward the pathetic creature.

  “Wait.” He grabbed her hand. “Can I see you sometime?”

  Maddie tilted her head to stare back at him. “Really? You don’t have to—”

  “I know I don’t. I want to.”

  She broke into a grin. “Give me your phone.” He did and she typed her information into his contacts then handed it back.

  “Thanks.” He nodded toward Bree. “Let me help you with her.”

  “No,” Maddie said quickly. His questioning look prompted her to explain. “It’s just, I’d rather remember you right there, not fumbling around with my idiot drunk friend.” Plus she couldn’t subject him to dealing with Bree, especially with the hard-on she knew he still sported.

  “Got it.” He adjusted himself. “Just as long as you are remembering me.”

  “Oh, I could never forget.” She sighed to accent her point. He winked and she turned again to leave when a thought crossed her mind. She spun back to him. “Hey, I don’t know-- ”

  “Micah,” he said, accurately predicting what she was going to say. “I’m Micah.”

  “Nice to meet you, Micah.” She rolled the name off her lips, relishing the feel of it in her mouth. Then she gave him one last longing look before she left to help Bree.

  Two

  Micah Preston couldn’t decide if he was irritated or glad to be left waiting in Stu Steeling’s front office for so long. On the one hand, he’d already been sitting there for more than half an hour. If this was any indication of the sort of attention he’d receive if Stu signed him as a client, he should bail now. Except Stu Steeling was the best publicity and image manager in Hollywood. Getting an appointment with him was nearly impossible, let alone getting a contract. And Stu had called Micah’s agent for this meeting, which was why Micah didn’t just up and walk out.

  On the other hand, the wait gave him a chance to compose himself and focus before his interview.

  Who was he kidding? He couldn’t focus, not one bit. His mind kept r
eturning to the night before and the leggy brunette who had gasped and moaned so beautifully at his touch. Maddie. He could still taste her on his tongue.

  He hadn’t wanted to attend the wrap party for his indie film. Not that he was averse to a good time, but his meeting with Stu was bright and early, and his agent had recommended that Micah stay sober and well-rested.

  “You’ll never get a chance like this with Steeling again,” his agent Priscilla had said. “If he signs you, you will go from unknown indie films to big studio features. I swear it. He can make or break your acting career.”

  So Micah had done a quick walk around the wrap party, making sure he said goodbye to the people he wasn’t sure he’d see again. Then, not wanting to be totally uncool and leave before midnight, he grabbed a beer and found a quiet spot to relax.

  That was when he’d spotted her, making her way through the crowd with such purpose and direction, it seemed as if she was coming to join him. She’d stopped to survey the spectacle at the pool and he’d had a perfect view of her long legs and firm behind. An image of her bent naked in front of him had flashed through his mind and his cock was twitching before she even turned around. When he did see her face--her perfectly plump lips, her deep chocolate eyes--he knew he had to touch her, taste her, feel her against him. And that he did.

  He closed his lids as he remembered.

  It was a good thing their encounter was interrupted. He hadn’t enjoyed going home blue-balled, but he’d been minutes away from taking her fast and hard in an empty bathroom in his producer’s house, and she deserved something more than a hot round of Wham-Bam-Thank-You-Ma’am. Micah wanted to give her that something more, and he planned to take her out on a real date and end up in a bedroom, nice and proper.

  Not for the first time that morning, he pulled out his phone and stared at her contact information, trying to decide if he’d seem too eager if he sent her a text. Hell, he didn’t care if he sounded eager--he was eager—to know her, to touch her again.

  He began composing a text when the receptionist called his name.

  “Mr. Steeling will see you now.”

  Micah saved the draft and pocketed his phone. He’d have to save his fantasies for later—now it was time to focus on the biggest moment of his career.

  A few minutes later, Micah found himself seated across from Stu Steeling, who perched behind an immaculate mahogany desk.

  “I’m going to get right to the point,” Stu said after they greeted each other. “I’m not much for small talk—it’s a waste of time, and in this business, time is money. I’ve seen your work. You’re talented, there’s no question about that. And you’re good-looking. Priscilla tells me you’ve been working with her for…” he paused to study a small notepad he’d pulled from his pocket. “…seven years. Most people would say you should have hit it big by now if you were ever going to, but I’m not most people. How old are you?”

  “Twenty-four.”

  Stu’s forehead creased. “Twenty-four is older than I like to start with clients, but it’s not a deal-breaker. It just means that if you agree to work with me, you’ll have to really commit to the guidelines I set out for you, and I mean commit, one-hundred percent, no fucking around. Building an image in Hollywood is not impossible, but it takes dedication and hard work. It’s grueling and not recommended for the faint of heart. What do you say?”

  “I’m not opposed to hard work.” Micah had just finished three indie films in a period of just as many months, and was not any worse for the wear. He was tempted to agree to whatever Stu had in mind, no questions asked, but decided to play it cool and aloof. “Though I’d like to know exactly what you propose before I can commit to anything.”

  “Excellent—a young man interested in the details before signing on. You don’t know how many people fail that part of this interview. “

  Micah hid any reaction, grateful that he didn’t jump on Stu’s offer. He sat back in his chair, and waited for Stu to proceed.

  “I’ll expect you to work on project after project. There are no breaks when you’re climbing the ladder. I will push you to audition, audition, audition. You’ll be so tired, you’ll want to kill me. But that should all go without saying.”

  “It does.”

  “Now here’s the tough stuff: First and foremost, no drugs, no drunk driving, no excessive Lindsay Lohan-type partying. I don’t care if you smoke a little weed now and then, but if you’re ever caught with anything harder than that— and you’re always caught—I’ll drop you immediately. Clear?”

  Easy peasy. “I’m clean. I’m not even a big drinker.”

  “Perfect. Next, you need to get to a voice teacher. You got the acting chops, but your speech isn’t as clear as it could be. You have a bit of a mid-western dialect at times.”

  Micah hadn’t heard that one in a while, but he knew where it came from. “I grew up in Kansas. I moved here at thirteen when my parents got divorced.”

  “Yeah, that’s in your speech. It’s actually somewhat endearing, but it doesn’t work for every character and from what I’ve seen, you don’t ever vary it.”

  “I’ll get a voice teacher. I’m glad to learn more acting tools.”

  “Good. I’ve got someone I work with who’s excellent. She’ll come to you, so you can train while you’re working.” Stu made a note on his pad.

  “We need to get you a personal trainer—the kind who’s going to whip your ass and make you puke after every session. I know you’re in pretty good shape now, but we need to see a six-pack when you take off your shirt, and from the footage I got from Dirk Davenport, you’ve only got a four-pack.”

  Micah knew that was coming. He hadn’t worked as hard at the gym as he could have, but no one ever complained about his naturally well-built physique before. He also hadn’t made it into a feature film yet. Maybe his body could use some work.

  “Speaking of Davenport,” Stu said without waiting for Micah to agree to a trainer, “he’s a great director and I admire him. He knows how to cast pretty boys who can also act. But there’s a reason he’s never made it past his indie film status. Gay films are just not mainstream. You’re not gay are you?”

  “No,” Micah said, thinking about Maddie again. “Definitely not.”

  “Perfect. Not that there’s anything wrong with being gay. I’m all for equal rights and all that bullshit, but we’ve got to be honest—the actors who are hot right now are straight. I hope as much as anyone that that changes soon, but for now, that’s the formula for success. Don’t get me wrong, this gay indie is going to look great on your resume. Especially since you’re straight—it shows you can act. But now we need to focus on your heterosexuality. Do you have a girlfriend/fiancé/wife?”

  Micah wasn’t sure how Stu wanted him to answer. He'd played gay on film—not anything porn-like, just some kissing. It was no big deal—he was acting. Maybe Stu wanted him to have a girlfriend to combat that image. But he didn’t have a girlfriend at the moment. Not yet, anyway. He went for the truthful answer. “Nope, I’m completely single.”

  “Terrific! It’s much easier to sell a single young actor than one that’s attached. The women all want to believe they have a shot with you and the girlfriend thing just gets in the way. I’m not suggesting you cut out sex—you can have as many fuck flings as you like. Hell, that usually works in your favor. Every gossip rag is dying to tie you to someone. It’s great publicity.

  “Not that we can’t work things out if you do hook up with someone long term. But, I’m telling you man-to-man, it’s not easy to manage love and a career. Women mess with your time and emotions. They pout every time you have to spend weeks away on a shoot or heaven forbid, have to do an onscreen kiss. And you can never tell if they’re into you or your money. Keep the strings unattached and you’re better off. Just a suggestion from a guy who’s been around.”

  Micah opened his mouth to comment, but didn’t know what to say. Show biz and relationships…boy, did he know something about that. Stu
’s advice wasn’t half bad.

  “Anyway, kid, if you’re serious, I’ll sign you today. Keep your nose clean, work on your trade, don’t get distracted, and I promise that I’ll make you a star. I’m sure you know I’ve got an excellent track record and no one’s ever been–”

  He was interrupted by his phone ringing. He pushed the speaker button and the receptionist’s voice filled the room. “Brad Licht is on the phone. He said to interrupt.”

  “Great, send the call back.” Stu pressed the speaker button again and the receptionist was gone. “Micah, I have to take this. It’ll be just a minute.”

  Stu picked up the phone’s handset and pushed the flashing button on his console before Micah could agree. “Hey, Brad. What’s up?”

  Micah was curious about Stu’s conversation. Brad Licht was a famous actor and client of Stu’s. Witnessing Stu’s interaction with him would be a great indicator of what kind of relationships he had with his clients.

  But instead, Micah’s mind wandered to Stu’s advice on women. It wasn’t a new thought— Micah had toyed with the idea of remaining single before. He’d witnessed his parents’ marriage go up in flames when his mother decided to run off to California, hoping to get a break into the biz herself. She didn’t succeed as she’d hoped, and she always blamed her ex for holding her back when she was younger.

  And though she never said it out loud, Micah knew that being a mother had held her back as well. She’d been a good actress. She could have made a name for herself if she’d had fewer responsibilities and obligations. Eventually she gave up and threw her energy into Micah and his career instead.

  Micah’s dad never got over the split. He pined for his wife until his death of a heart attack at forty-eight. And as much as it pained Micah, he knew his father never approved of his son’s decision to be an actor because of all the grief it had caused their family.

  Yeah, Stu made a good argument. No strings, no burdens—it was definitely the way to go. Even though he sometimes yearned for a more substantial relationship, Micah could be happy as a playboy.