With Me in Seattle Bundle One

by Kristen Proby

  “First of all, I didn’t mean to lie to you.” He looks me square in the eye. “I should have been honest with you the night you were here, but frankly, I just got so caught up in you. You make me forget my own name sometimes.”

  So he has that problem, too, huh?

  “Obviously, the morning we met I thought you were taking photos of me. That doesn’t happen often anymore, but every once in a while it does, and I panic.”

  “I won’t ever take your picture without your permission.”

  He squeezes my hand and gives me a sad smile.

  “Thank you,” he murmurs. He takes a deep breath and continues. “A few years ago things were pretty crazy. The paparazzi can be merciless, and sometimes the fans are worse. I’ve never been great in crowds, no idea why, but being literally chased down the street by hundreds of people on a regular basis pushed it into a full-blown phobia. Every moment of my life was documented for five years.”

  He turns toward me, his eyes wide and haunted. “I couldn’t have had a girlfriend if I had wanted one. There was never a moment to myself.”

  “I thought I read something about you being with the co-star… Meredith Something or other.”

  He shakes his head with frustration. “That was all fabricated for the sake of the films. For the publicity. The studio owns you when you’re in big-budget films, Nat. They dictate who you’re with, what you do, where you go. I was too young to truly understand what that meant.

  “Meredith is nice, but she was never my girlfriend, and that’s just another example of how ruthless the paparazzi are. They can twist anything around until they get the story they want, rather than the boring truth.” He swallows and frowns, and then his beautiful blue eyes find mine again.

  “If you have questions about my past, you need to ask me. Don’t go looking around online for answers.”

  Geez. “Okay.”

  “This is important. It could make us or break us, and I refuse to lose you over something that is no longer a part of my life.”

  “Is stuff still printed about you?” I ask.

  “Sometimes. Not often anymore. Thank God.”

  “Have you really not made a movie in five years?”

  “I haven’t acted in one in five years,” he replies.

  “Why?”

  He runs his hand through his hair again. “Because not all money is good money.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I made a lot of money from those films, Nat. I still do, thanks to merchandising, and my accountant and lawyers. And I could still be making a lot of money acting in films, but at what cost? So I can be hounded and have my life ruled?”

  “What about actors like Matt Damon and Ben Affleck? They seem to lead fairly private lives,” I remind him.

  He nods. “Yes, they do, but they’re also a bit older now and aren’t starring in romantic comedies geared toward young women. They aren’t great fodder for the rags anymore.”

  “So no movie business at all?” I ask, wanting to know more. He still hasn’t told me what he does now.

  “I didn’t say that.”

  Oh. “Okay.”

  “I produce now, help movies get made. I’m not an actor anymore.”

  “So does that mean that you have to be gone for long periods of time?” I keep the panic out of my voice, but my blood runs cold. I don’t want him gone most of the time!

  “No, I do most of my work from home.” He kisses my hand again. “I go to L.A. or New York for a few days here and there, but that’s it. I also work with other producers who are able to do most of the hands-on work.”

  “Oh.” Wow, he really does live in a completely different world from mine. “I have a question.”

  “Shoot.”

  “Jules said yesterday that she’d heard that someone hurt themselves in your house.”

  Luke goes pale, and his eyes suddenly look bleak.

  “Yeah. I was in New York doing publicity for the last movie.” He swallows. “A young girl, a fan, broke into my house. She lit it on fire.”

  I gasp. “Oh my God.”

  “That would have been bad enough, but she did a really bad job of it and got caught in the house and ended up dying in there.”

  “Holy shit, Luke.”

  “That’s when I knew I was done. It’s too crazy, and I’m just not made for it. Other actors manage okay in that world, but it’s not worth people’s lives to me.”

  “She was obviously a messed-up girl, honey.”

  His eyes dart to mine. “That’s the first time you’ve called me anything other than my name.”

  I smile shyly and shrug.

  “Yeah, she was messed up. It didn’t make it right.”

  “Do you miss it?”

  “I miss the work. Acting is fun, and I like to think I was good at it. Being on set was a lot of fun, and I learned a lot. But I don’t miss the rest of it.”

  “Okay, so here’s the million-dollar question. Why didn’t you just tell me?”

  “At first I didn’t believe you when you said you didn’t know who I am.” He smiles sadly at me. “That rarely happens. And then when it became obvious that it was true, it was just such a breath of fresh air to be normal.”

  “You’re not normal, Luke, and I mean that in a good way.”

  He smirks. “You know what I mean. You didn’t become a fifteen-year-old like Jules did yesterday. You seemed to like me, not a character in a movie.”

  “I’ve never seen your movies,” I state matter-of-factly.

  “I love that.” His voice is completely honest.

  “But were you ever going to tell me? I was going to find out sooner or later. That’s what I’m struggling with, Luke. That’s why I freaked out on you yesterday. I confided things to you that I just don’t share with anyone. Even Jules doesn’t know about my tattoos.”

  His eyes smolder at the mention of my tattoos, but I press on.

  “Clearly, after our conversation in the car, you should know that I have trust issues with men. All men. I don’t keep men in my life.”

  “I’m hoping that’s about to change,” he whispers.

  “This wasn’t a great start to convince me to make any changes.”

  “Natalie, think about the rest of the time we’ve been together. I’m still the same man I was before we were in your kitchen yesterday morning. I still like to cook. I think your work is sexy. I can’t keep my hands off you. I’m just a man.”

  “I know.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes. I’m not an idiot. But you know me better than anyone, after less than a week, and I can’t help but feel a little foolish. Yesterday was really embarrassing for me.”

  “It was embarrassing for me, too.”

  “Well, I’m glad that’s over.”

  “What?”

  “My first embarrassing moment in front of you.”

  He smiles, but it’s fleeting. He gets serious again. “Can we start over?”

  “No.”

  His face falls. “So it’s over?”

  “No, I don’t want to start over because that would mean erasing everything we’ve had, and honestly, aside from yesterday, the past few days have been really good.” I bite my lip and gaze over at him.

  His impossibly beautiful face breaks into a heart-stopping smile. God, he just looks so…joyful. I can’t help but match it.

  “Natalie, these have been the best few days of my life, and I mean that.”

  “Wow.”

  Finally, he pulls me onto his lap and into his arms. I bury my face in his neck, wrap my arms around him and hold on, inhaling his sexy scent, planting soft kisses on his cheek.

  I lean back and take his face in my hands, gazing deeply into his eyes. “Just don’t ever act with me.”

  “Baby, you don’t have to worry about that.”

  Suddenly he’s kissing me, and we’re on the move. He stands with me in his arms and heads inside the house. He’s carrying me like I weigh nothing, and it�
��s so…hot.

  “Where are we going?” I ask against his lips.

  “My bed.”

  Oh.

  “We didn’t clean up after breakfast.”

  “Later.”

  “We could get naked on the deck,” I suggest and bite his earlobe.

  He growls. “No, my bed.” We’re moving up the stairs. “I’m getting you naked and plan to spend about a week in bed with you.”

  I can’t help but laugh. “I have clients on Monday.”

  “Okay, but today and tomorrow you’re all mine.”

  “Yours?” I raise an eyebrow at him.

  “Mine.” He repeats and stands me gently at the side of his bed. He grabs the hem of my dress and pulls it over my head. “Sweet Jesus, you’re not wearing any underwear.”

  I grin. “Nope.”

  “This whole time, you’ve been sitting six inches from me with no fucking underwear?”

  “Yep.” I laugh and start unbuttoning his shirt. His eyes watch mine intently, and I pop the buttons, one by one. I push the shirt over his shoulders, and he lets it fall to the floor.

  Next, I push my finger between the elastic of his boxers and his skin, the way I did the other night when he stopped me. His eyes flash with need, and he makes no move to stop me this time. I smile and run my tongue along my lower lip. I glide my fingers along his stomach to his fly and open his jeans. I pull the soft denim and gray boxers slowly over his lean hips and down his legs. He steps out of them and kicks them aside.

  “There, you’ve caught up to me,” I murmur and gaze back up into his heated blue eyes.

  He doesn’t touch me, which is making me mad with longing. I want those skilled hands on me!

  “I love it when you look at me like that,” he murmurs and moves toward me.

  I back up, the backs of my legs meeting the edge of the bed.

  “How am I looking at you?”

  “Your beautiful green eyes are looking at me like you just can’t wait until I touch you.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Lie back on the bed, baby.”

  I do as he asks and gaze up at him, enjoying the view that is Luke. All of the blood in my body has pooled between my legs, and I’m panting. All without him actually touching me.

  “What are you doing to me?” I ask, surprised that I spoke the words aloud.

  He grins and climbs onto the bed, straddles my legs, his hands planted on either side of my shoulders. He’s still not actually touching me. He lowers his head and sweeps his lips across mine. Once, then twice.

  “I’m seducing you.”

  “You’re good at it.” He smiles against my lips. I grasp his hips, but he pulls back, out of my reach. “Hey!”

  “Grab on to the headboard.”

  “I want to touch you.”

  He lightly kisses me again. “Trust me, baby. Hold on to the headboard.”

  I reach above me and grab on to the white wooden headboard.

  “Keep your hands there, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  He smiles and kisses my lips once more, then my chin. I close my eyes and tilt my head back, giving him access to my neck. He takes advantage and licks all the way down to my collarbone.

  He lowers his body down onto mine as he moves down my body. He clasps one breast in his hand, worrying my sensitive nipple between his fingers while he sucks the other one in his mouth, and it’s a direct hit to my groin.

  “Oh shit.” I bow up off the bed, my body zinging in sensation. He blows softly on the nipple and moves to the other one to pay the same respects.

  “So beautiful,” he mutters against my breast. “I love your breasts. You fill my hands perfectly.”

  “Can I move my hands now?” I breathe.

  “No way. Keep them where they are.”

  “I want to touch you.”

  “You will, but don’t move yet.”

  I groan in frustration, and he starts kissing down my torso again. He laves my belly piercing with his tongue. “This is so hot.”

  “I was thinking about taking it out.”

  “Please don’t, I love it.”

  “Okay,” I say shyly.

  He grins and moves farther down, his hands running down my sides to my hips. Suddenly, he grips the insides of my thighs and pushes them wide apart. He rubs his nose over the tattoo on my pubis and moans.

  “Who did you have to forgive, baby?”

  I gasp and stare down at him with wide eyes. His eyes meet mine, and I’m mortified to feel tears prick at the backs of my eyes.

  “Myself,” I whisper.

  “Oh, baby.” He kisses my tattoo sweetly, his fingers moving up my inner thighs to my center. He runs one finger down my cleft, from my clitoris to my anus, and I cry out.

  “Argh!” Ohmygod!

  “Honey, you are so wet.” His tongue follows his finger, and my hips convulse. He holds my thighs firmly against the bed, spread wide open for him.

  “So sweet.” He runs that glorious tongue back up to my lips and then presses it inside me, kissing me intimately as if he were kissing my face, his nose pressed against my clitoris.

  “Holy shit!” I cry and feel him smile against me. His hands move around to cup my ass and lift me, and he presses his face into me farther, and he’s taking no prisoners. He rubs his nose back and forth over my clitoris as his tongue moves around and around inside me, and I am almost afraid of my orgasm. I come fast and hard, pulling myself with my hands still clenched on the headboard off the bed, calling out Luke’s name, or I think that’s what I’m saying anyway.

  I may be speaking in tongues.

  He continues the sweet torture until the last tremble moves through me, then he kisses his way up my body, stopping to pay special attention to each breast, and finally lying over me, resting his pelvis on mine, his elbows on each side of my shoulders. His hard shaft is lying against my very wet center, and when I roll my hips to wrap my legs around him, I feel it slide up and down.

  Luke’s eyes clench shut. “Oh God, Nat, you feel so good.”

  “So do you.” I pull myself up and kiss his lips, tasting him and me.

  He moves his hips now, sliding that deliciously large and hard cock up and down my folds, but not slipping inside me yet. The tip keeps bumping up against my clitoris, shooting sparks of sensation through me.

  “Let me touch you,” I beg.

  “God, yes, touch me.”

  Hallelujah!

  I grip his hair in my hands and pull his face to mine. He kisses me voraciously, and while what he’s doing against my center feels so fantastic, I just want him in me.

  “Luke,” I breathe against his mouth.

  “What do you need, baby?”

  “You. In. Me. Now.” Each word is staccato between kisses. He groans deep in his throat and finally slips inside me.

  Hard.

  Oh sweet Jesus!

  “Ah!” He’s pounding into me, over and over, each thrust harder than the last. His breath is ragged and broken. I reach down and grab his ass, pulling him harder.

  “Oh, Natalie, come with me, baby.” His words, his voice, are my undoing, and I explode around him. I am just sensation, as he pushes inside me to the hilt, grinding and grinding, moving back and forth, as he empties himself into me.

  I run my fingers up his spine and push them gently through his damp hair as he shudders over me, whispering my name like a prayer.

  Chapter Twelve

  I love his hair. It’s just the right length for me to run my fingers through the softness, over and over. Luke sighs in contentment, his cheek resting against my sternum, and I cradle him in my arms. We stay this way for a long while, in companionable silence.

  When his breathing slows, and I think he’s gone to sleep, he raises his head, kisses my chest where his cheek has been, and our eyes meet.

  “Stay with me this weekend.”

  “I thought we’d already established that,” I reply.

  “Damn right.” He kisses me
quickly then rolls off me and strolls into the bathroom. Yes, he has a fine derriere.

  “I have a question,” I call to him in the bathroom.

  “Shoot,” he calls back.

  “Did you have a butt double in your movie?” I pull my dress over my head and begin finger-combing my hair, tying it back in a ponytail.

  “Uh…” I hear water running in the sink, and he pokes his head out the door. “No.”

  “Oh.” How do I feel about this?

  “I thought you didn’t see the movies.” He flashes his half smile at me. Swoon!

  “I didn’t. That was a particularly favorite scene of Jules’,” I explain.

  “Ah.” He disappears back into the bathroom for a few minutes then reappears in fresh red boxers—drool!—and pulls on his discarded jeans and white button-down shirt.

  “I don’t know how I feel about that,” I murmur as I watch him dress.

  “Why?”

  “I don’t think I like it that everyone in the free world has seen your ass.”

  He pulls me off the bed and against his solid chest, linking his hands at my lower back.

  “Why, Natalie, are you jealous?”

  “Of about a hundred million girls ogling you?” I raise an eyebrow. “What’s to be jealous of?”

  “Absolutely nothing.” He gently sweeps his lips over mine in that way he has that makes my knees all weak. “Your hands and eyes are the only ones I want on my ass, baby.”

  “Okay,” I whisper against his mouth. “If I’m going to stay here this weekend”—I step back out of his arms and grasp his hands in mine—“I need to run home and grab a few things. I hadn’t planned on a weekend vacation.”

  “Let’s go do that now, then come back here.”

  “You want to spend all weekend here at the house?”

  “Most of it, yes.” He brings my hands to his lips. “We can hang out here today, do whatever you want. Let me cook for you and take care of you.”

  My jaw drops. I’m unable to articulate words.

  “And tomorrow, I want you to go to my parents’ house with me for dinner.”

  “What?”

  “They do a family thing every Sunday, and I think my brother’s in town for the weekend.”

  “I can’t meet your family!” I pull my hands out of his and wrap my arms around my stomach. Meet his family!