Star Struck (Hollywood Heat) Page 5

  Only half aware of her peers’ conversation as they commented and compared their scripts and rehearsals, Heather said little, focusing instead on chewing and swallowing her fruit salad. Those were appropriate things to do with her mouth. Not kissing and nibbling and licking the salty skin of the tasty carpenter.

  Her face went hot again thinking about Seth’s demanding mouth.

  As if summoned by her thoughts, she saw him standing in the doorway when she glanced up. Their eyes locked and her blush increased. Jesus, just seeing him across the room turned her on.

  And the gleam in his eyes said he knew exactly what he did to her.

  Dammit.

  She had to squash this now. She closed her eyes to break the contact. When she opened them again he was at the buffet table. Alone. Now was her chance.

  She stood and pulled down the cover-up she had donned over her bikini costume.

  “Finished already?” Matt asked.

  “No, I just want some more…” She looked down at her barely eaten food. “A bottle of water.” Yeah, that was good. “I’ll be right back.”

  She hurried over to the buffet and stepped as close to Seth as she dared. Even inches from him, she felt heat emanating from him, causing her hair to stand on end. She reached past him for a roll she wouldn’t be caught dead eating—refined carbs? Not a chance—and ignored the way her nipples perked up at the brush of her arm against his. Leaning into him, she lowered her voice and said, “Before never happened, okay?”

  Seth didn’t look at her. Didn’t even acknowledge her.

  He moved farther down the buffet table. She put the roll back and scooted after him. “Did you hear me?” she asked a little louder this time.

  He lifted his head up. “Are you talking to me? Cast and crew aren’t supposed to fraternize.”

  “No, the crew isn’t supposed to…” Oh. He was mocking her. She narrowed her eyes. Of course he wouldn’t make this easy. Irritation ran through her veins which, oddly enough, increased the ache of desire in her lower belly. “God, you never quit, do you? Such an asshole.”

  “You keep saying that. But you also plunged your tongue into my mouth. You know how they say actions speak louder than words— ”

  Mouth gaping, she pulled at his arm and dragged him through the doorway and around the corner to the security area.

  His lips curled up in a half-smile. “What? Round two already?”

  “Keep it down!”

  The smile disappeared. “I see. You’re worried about your precious reputation. Whatever, princess. Stay out of my way and I’ll stay out of yours.”

  He turned to leave.

  “Wait.” The request was out of her mouth before she could stop herself.

  “What?”

  She peered at the open door to the loading dock behind him. They weren’t really hidden from the cast and crew, but she wanted—scratch that—she needed to have this conversation. She stepped around an outcrop by the exit and gestured for Seth to follow.

  With a sigh, Seth set his plate of food down on the desk and joined her in the nook. He leaned his arm against the wall, trapping her in the small space. “What?” he asked again.

  She was dizzy with his smell, a combination of fragrant wood shavings and sweat and soap. She had to force herself to focus. “You plunged your tongue into my mouth first.”

  “A mistake I won’t be making again.” But his eyes lowered to her lips.

  She was perplexed by the words that contrasted so starkly with the hunger in his eyes. Did he feel as conflicted about her as she did about him? And if so, why? No way to know unless she asked. “Why did you do it?”

  “Do what?”

  “Kiss me.”

  He took a step toward her. “Are you asking me to kiss you?”

  She stepped back, shaking her head. “No.”

  Another step forward. “Are you sure?”

  “No.” Another step back.

  Seth grinned.

  “I mean, yes, I’m sure. You’re confusing me. I’m asking why you kissed me.”

  “Are you suggesting that you didn’t kiss me?”

  “Oh my God.” She was against the wall now. She couldn’t retreat any farther. “Talking to you is impossible.”

  He took a final step, closing the last bit of distance between them. He was so close that it would take no effort to reach up and claim his lips. Again. “Then maybe we shouldn’t be talking.”

  “I’m sorry, I’m not interested.” But her voice was shaky, his accusation so right on she couldn’t lie about it. World famous actress that she was, she couldn’t give one simple line. Pathetic.

  She wanted to look away from his piercing gaze, but with him so near, there was nowhere else to look. “Are we done here? Because I need to finish my lunch.”

  He chuckled, a sound full of incredulity, but God knew it stirred something in her core. “You pulled me back here, remember?” He leaned down toward her and she pressed her palms against the wall behind her for support. How did he keep getting her trapped like this? And why did she go crazy with the anticipation of what she hoped he’d do next?

  But he didn’t kiss her, just kept his face inches from hers. “I’m done if you are.”

  “Good. I am.” She waited for him to move out of her way. When he didn’t she said, “Excuse me.”

  “One more thing.”

  “What?”

  “I kissed you for the same reason you kissed me.”

  She had kissed him because she couldn’t not kiss him. His pass at her had been startling and improper, but it also awakened her to the depths of hunger she felt for him. Compelled her to seek more. Even now she wanted more.

  Still, her brain tried to protest. “Well, it never happened.”

  “Fine. Do we have to pretend this time never happened either?”

  Before she could fully register what his words meant, his mouth crashed against hers. Her lips parted and instantly his tongue was inside, swiping across her teeth, before dueling with her own tongue with thick, luscious strokes. His kiss was deep and demanding, washing her with waves of lust and need and relief. Such relief.

  He pressed his body tighter against her and her hands flew around him, digging into his back to steady her weakening knees. As if he understood her sudden inability to stand, Seth tugged at her thigh, urging it up and around him. She wrapped one leg over his hip and then his hands were at her ass, holding her so she could wrap the other around him as well, the short cover-up crawling up to her hips.

  In this position she could feel his erection ridge across her crotch, so near to her throbbing center, yet so far away. She squirmed against him, trying desperately to relieve the ache, unable to get the friction she needed with her bikini bottom and his damn jeans in the way.

  Seth met her fidgeting with a firm thrust as he bit down the side of her neck. In some far recess of her mind she remembered how hard it was to cover hickeys with make-up while another flicker of thought reminded her that stage hid more than film. The most dominant part of her mind said, who the fuck cares? She wanted him to suck her and bite her and pinch at her skin until he’d marked her completely. Until he’d demonstrated his desire on every inch of her.

  Using the wall to leverage her body, Seth removed a hand from her ass and untied the shoulder strings of her cover-up. It fell, bunching between them at her waist. Then he pulled at the string behind her neck, releasing her breasts from captivity. She was proud of her breasts—they were one hundred percent real and amazingly firm. Not that she wouldn’t get surgery the minute they began to fall, but so far, they’d held.

  And from the look on Seth’s face, he appreciated how well they’d held. He leaned back to gaze at them, a wicked smile sliding into place. After what seemed like an eternity, he bent to lick first one nipple then the other. Then he leaned back again and blew a stream of air across them, seeming to admire how they puckered even more tightly.

  Heather moaned, needy for his touch, not his eyes.


  He understood, returning his mouth to her breast, and sucked her taut bud into his warmth. He lowered his hand to the place where she needed him most, pressing his thumb through her suit into her aching clit.

  “Fuck, yes!” she growled.

  This was happening. She was in Seth’s arms, in his mouth, and she didn’t care anymore who he was or where he came from. She only cared about where he was going and whether or not he’d take her with him.

  Except there was just one thing that niggled at her. One thing that kept her from giving herself over to him completely. “So,” she panted near his ear, “then you do like me?”

  It was ridiculous to ask, but it mattered to her in an insane way. Almost as intensely as she needed him inside her, she needed his approval, his understanding. His acceptance of her perma-bitch attitude with him.

  He closed his teeth around her nipple and bit hard. She yipped at the wonderful mixture of pleasure and pain. When he let go, he pulled away and looked her in the eyes. “Are you still embarrassed by me?”

  One word and he’d take her. She knew it, could feel it in her bones.

  But just as she had no understanding for why she needed his acceptance, she understood that he needed hers.

  And she couldn’t give it to him. She answered with silence.

  “That’s what I thought.”

  Her cover-up fell to the ground as he lowered her, gently helping her stand without him. Too gently. Already Heather missed his forcefulness.

  “No, princess.” He found the strings of her bikini and pulled the suit up over her breasts, tying it around her neck. “I don’t like you. I’m disgusted with myself for being so stupidly attracted to you.”

  His words hurt like a van smashing into her. But she understood far too well. “You can’t possibly be as disgusted as I am.”

  He laughed. “I’m sure that’s true. Thank you for reminding me.” He shook his head and she could see in his eyes a self-loathing that mirrored what she felt inside. “I’ll go out first so you can pretend this whole mistake never happened.”

  But as she watched him leave, she knew she couldn’t forget. Not just because he’d left her horny and yearning and blue-clitted, but because their interaction revealed so many things about herself she didn’t want to deal with.

  She retrieved her cover-up from the floor and slipped it over her head, wishing the cotton material could cover up more than just her near-naked body. She wished it could cover up Seth’s bite marks and her flushed face, and her trailer park past and her pathetic excuse for a soul that never let her move anywhere beyond white trash.

  Five

  The rest of the day flew by at breakneck speed. More rehearsing, tech rehearsal, a quick dinner that she barely touched. Then it was show time. Though nervous, she adored the rush she got from performing live. As a film actress, she rarely got to experience the jitters that came from knowing her performance wouldn’t be edited or perfected in post-production. Whenever she did get them, she embraced it, cherished it. Even conflicting thoughts of the sexy carpenter somewhere out in the house watching the show wasn’t enough to distract her from her high.

  Heather’s play, third in the lineup, had a great placement. The audience was already warmed up and her bit as a dumb blonde trying to drill for oil in the sand at the beach brought roars of laughter. She almost wished the performance was taped so she could see it played back later. Except that was one of the great things about the 24-Hour Plays—they were one time, and one time only.

  Normally she’d steal up to the balcony with the other actors when her piece was completed so she could watch the rest of the shows. But this year as the spokesperson, she also had to announce the Urban Arts Spotlight performer and give a speech after intermission highlighting the charity and its many accomplishments. In her speech, she also introduced the new element of the night—the set built by carpenter Seth Rafferty that would be auctioned off the following month. The audience clapped with approval.

  Yeah, she’d been wrong about the set. It had definitely added to the plays and would benefit the Urban Arts program significantly. Not that she’d ever admit her change of heart to Seth.

  She missed watching the final show from backstage so that she could take a quick shower and primp. She changed into a black and white striped maxi with a scoop neck and elastic crisscross back. It fit the casual mood of the after party but didn’t skimp on the sexy.

  Then the show was over and it felt like her work was just beginning. Immediately she was ushered to the foyer by Patrick to be introduced to important donors. After posing for pictures and signing autographs, she was shuttled to the hotel where she had to endure an hour-long press junket before finally making it to the cast party. She gave a final speech at the party to thank the cast and crew, and her duties as spokesperson were officially over.

  With a giant sigh, Heather collapsed on a couch next to Lexie by the pool and sipped at her Tequila Sunrise while she tried to decide if she had enough energy to join her costars at karaoke in one of the poolside hotel rooms. The need to rest her aching feet outweighed her adrenaline-fueled desire to sing old 80s hits, so she settled for just listening.

  “You did good, chicka,” Lexie said, raising her glass in a toast. “I call the evening a success.”

  “And your opinion’s the only one that matters.” Though, that wasn’t true. Heather cared way too much about what other people thought of her. She’d tried to move past it, and after years in the media spotlight she should have grown a thicker skin, but she was sensitive by nature. Always looking for the approval that her father never gave her.

  But yes, the event had gone well. She expected positive reviews in the papers the next day. And the 24-Hour Plays were low-key, so the coverage would be minimal.

  Heather scanned the pool area. She hadn’t seen Seth all evening—not that she’d been looking. Maybe he didn’t do parties. Or maybe he was avoiding her.

  Or maybe she just hadn’t looked hard enough. Because there he was in the back corner with Neil, chatting around one of the appetizer buffets. Seeing him, the fire pit seemed to suddenly blaze hotter, her body bathed in a flash of warmth. He’d changed into clean jeans and an olive button-down shirt that she knew would bring out the green specks in his eyes.

  Why on earth was she thinking about his eyes?

  “Who ya staring at?” Lexie followed Heather’s gaze. “Oh, yum! Who’s that?”

  “The asshole I told you about.”

  “The one who called you a bitch and built that amazing furniture that’s going to sell for thousands?”

  “Yeah.” The thoughts she’d buried all evening flooded her now—she’d said she didn’t want him, but she did. Very much so. But the things he’d said, the horrible truths he’d revealed about her…

  Seth Rafferty had done quite a number on her. He’d left her dazed and confused and horny as hell.

  And ashamed. He’d left her that, too.

  Curling her feet underneath her, Lexie eyed Heather as though trying to read her mind.

  “He kissed me,” Heather admitted as casually as she could.

  Lexie’s jaw dropped. “And you’re just telling me this now?”

  “A lot was going on.” Heather had wanted to tell her earlier, had needed a confidant. But also, she hadn’t wanted to say a thing. Her interactions with the man had been very personal.

  “Nothing’s going on now. Spill it.”

  “I slapped him.” She’d been proud of that actually. “But then I kissed him back.” More than kissed and more than once. Details.

  “He’s certainly not a bad choice for a rebound.”

  “He’s a terrible choice. He’s…” A slew of adjectives describing Seth ran through Heather’s head, none as demeaning as she’d like. “I don’t even like him. He’s a total ass.”

  “A total hot ass.”

  Heather sighed. “Yes.”

  Silence settled over them and, as the tequila made its way through Heather’s veins, she be
gan to relax for the first time in two days.

  After a while, Lexie sat forward and looked around. “The party seems to be winding down. I’m going to head out. Do you need anything before I go?”

  “You got me all checked in?” Knowing how beat she’d be after the night was over, Heather had opted to rent a room in the hotel.

  “Yes. Your luggage is in your room. Room 417.” Lexie dug into her purse and pulled out a hotel key that she handed to Heather. “Here’s your key card.”

  “And I’m in the spa tomorrow?” Had her words sounded slurred? She probably should have eaten something.

  “Yes, booked all day.” Lexie eyed her suspiciously. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, totally.” She stretched. “I’m just really tired.”

  “Then relax and enjoy tomorrow. I don’t want to hear from you until at least late afternoon.”

  God, Lexie was an assistant sent from heaven. She pictured Lexie with angel wings and started to giggle.

  “Maybe you should call it a night now. You’re starting to get loopy. You didn’t eat anything today, did you? Do you need me to help you to your room before I leave?”

  “Nah, I got it.”

  Lexie stood then leaned down to give her boss a hug. “Say your goodbyes and get to bed. And if you end up in bed with that carpenter…”

  Heather rolled her eyes. “Stop it. I’m not going to bed with him.” But she couldn’t shake the feeling that she and Seth had unfinished business. Maybe she’d talk to him one more time. Make sure he’d gotten the drill she’d left on the counter in the loading dock. Maybe give him kudos for his set pieces. Maybe give him a piece of her mind.

  Or a piece of her body.

  But maybe first another drink.

  Seth had managed to avoid Heather since their hot make-out session at lunch. It was obvious that there wasn’t a worse match for him than the feisty blonde, but God, he hadn’t met a more responsive woman. The way her mouth had opened to him, the feel of her sexy legs wrapped around him and her gorgeous tits pressing against him. She was so damn hot.