by Leslie North
“Don’t worry about it,” Melissa whispered, her eyes hooded. “I’m clean. Are you?” He nodded in response.
“And the other big issue, knocking me up, is already a nonissue.” She sent him a mischievous grin. “Now get inside me.”
She didn’t need to tell him twice. Donovan locked her lips in a kiss before he surged forward, his fat cockhead nudging for entrance. She inhaled sharply once it popped inside, and all the best sensations greeted him: heat, silk, tightness, and Melissa. He buried his face in the hollow of her neck, getting lost there, filling himself with the scent and feel of her.
His eyes drifted shut as he fell into an intimate rhythm with her. Somewhere between tender and starving. They bucked and rolled and rocked until Donovan’s lower abs tightened. The warning sign. Melissa had her ankles hooked behind him, looking wild and sated at the same time. He’d been so lost in the paradise of her, he didn’t even know if she had come again.
“I’m close,” he grunted.
“I never want this to end,” she moaned.
He laughed weakly and drilled into her, his cock spasming over and over again as the pleasure coursed through him. His vision went spotty as he came, only one thing filling his head: Melissa.
They lay on the couch together for a while, his dick going soft inside her, while Melissa hummed and traced small patterns on his bicep. It was perfection. When he finally found the strength to move and clean himself up, Melissa made a small noise of protest.
“Do we have to go back to the real world?”
“Babe, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”
The dimple flashed in her cheek. His honey blonde lover. His chest tightened, and he couldn’t look away. Couldn’t even make himself. And that’s when he realized.
If there had been any doubt before, this moment confirmed it. The only woman he could see anymore was Melissa. Yet he was contractually obligated to see all the women living in his house.
What he wouldn’t give to just stay in this trailer with her forever.
13
Melissa fluffed one of the oversized pillows on Donovan’s sectional. It didn’t need fluffing—hell, nothing in this perfect house needed adjusting or perfecting in any way—but the celebrity journalist had just shown up, and Melissa was a bundle of nerves.
The plan was to record their first interview today. It would be a short segment, thankfully, and with only Donovan. No squad of women to stir things up. Melissa didn’t have to appear either, thank God.
It would be just another day on the job.
If only Melissa could get rid of the nagging feeling in her gut.
Donovan entered the living room a moment later, dressed in what she called his SoCal finest. Alligator shoes, an impossibly trendy belt that almost looked like a lightning bolt, black on black pinstripe button down with gray slacks she was pretty sure Jason Momoa had worn to a movie premier once. He was practically edible. Melissa gripped the edge of the couch.
“Okay. All set.” Donovan rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, which she wished he wouldn’t do. Now he wasn’t just edible, he was irresistible. A knock sounded on the front door. Melissa stood to get it, but he raised a palm.
“Let me.” He sent her a stern look, but the corners of his lips turned upward. She swallowed a knot of emotion. It was these tiny moments—the tiny gestures—that meant the most to her. Ever since they’d screwed in her trailer the evening before, her emotions had taken a running leap into the stratosphere. His words wouldn’t leave her—I just want you. She had a feeling he meant that in more ways than just the occasional fuck.
A moment later, a feminine voice wafted through the foyer, followed by Donovan’s gruff laugh. The celebrity blogger, Sabina, walked into the living room a moment later, her sky-high heels clicking against the wood floor.
“Wooow,” she gushed as she looked around. “Your house is so much better in person.”
“Oh, you’ve seen pictures before?” he asked.
“Yeah, a few were floating around on the blogosphere,” she commented, heading toward Melissa, a cameraman and light tech following behind her. She tossed a bright grin Melissa’s way. The two knew each other from previous interview spots for different shows and were industry acquaintances.
“Hm,” Donovan said, frowning.
“They were probably leaked by a cast or crew member,” Melissa offered. “It happens a lot.”
“I guess it’s a good thing I keep certain areas under lock and key then,” he mused, sitting on the couch.
“Oh?” Sabina commented with a lifted brow. “That might be a good place to start.”
While the crew got set up, Melissa hovered off to the side. Her role was to step in only if needed. Just to oversee the general direction of the interview and to ensure that all major talking points were covered for promotional purposes. Donovan and Sabina chatted while the crew set up, and Melissa just paced the far wall, checking her phone mindlessly. Finally, the camera was ready to roll.
Sabina started the interview fluidly with a short introduction for her show, Tea with Sabina, which was a reference to the gossip sort of tea. She had a particular format, which often dove deep into speculation and rumors. Melissa had tried to prep Donovan for this, but he waved off her attempts to run him through potential questions. Donovan was confident he could handle anything that came his way.
And so was she. More and more as the interview progressed, too. Sabina fired off questions about his work life—How many employees were under him?. And his past life—How many women had he been with? He didn’t answer that last question, but the picture he painted was clear. Donovan was successful and male and wildly coveted.
Melissa could tell when Sabina was ready to switch gears. It started when her back straightened. A smirk graced her lips. She leaned forward, as though trying to snare Donovan in her question.
“Now tell me. This reality show. Is this really just a chance for you to be misogynistic without consequences?”
Donovan blinked, surprise moving over his face. Sabina was known for her one eighties. Melissa winced.
“Misogynistic? There’s nothing misogynistic about me. I love women. Isn’t that obvious?”
Melissa worked her jaw back and forth. It wasn’t exactly the answer she would have instructed him to give. But it wasn’t exactly the worst. Already she could imagine the inflammatory headlines.
“Of course. You must. Living in a house with seven of them. It’s most boys’ wet dream.”
“Yeah. Things get pretty wet around here,” Donovan said, hefting with a laugh.
Melissa smacked her forehead.
“I’m sure all my viewers can surmise what you mean,” Sabina shot back.
“I have a pool out back,” Donovan said, but he had a shit-eating grin on his face. “We use the pool a lot. That’s all.”
“What would you say to your critics who are tired of programming that centers around men having their unabashed pick of submissive women?”
Donovan didn’t even break a sweat. “I’d say they’re probably jealous. I mean honestly. Who doesn’t want the chance to be on a show like mine?”
Melissa tensed. This was going from bad to worse. Sabina was trying to get viral-worthy soundbites out of him, and he was taking the bait. But he was answering differently than even she expected. It was like he wanted to sound incendiary. Like he was playing a character for the interview.
“So people who take issue with the traditional dynamics of a show like yours are just jealous.” Sabina nodded, making a note on the pad in her lap. “Okay.”
“Let’s be real,” Donovan went on. “I’m a successful gaming-company CEO. I don’t have time for love. Or to look for it. I need someone who’s on my level, and the show helps me find her.”
“So are there any clues you can give us about who we can expect to see show up in the final round?”
Donovan shrugged, his mysterious smile making Melissa’s knees weak. “Oh, you know. Just a w
oman in love.”
“Have you fallen in love already?”
Donovan’s gaze darted to Melissa, and the brief contact made her insides seize up. We’re not in love. There’s no way we’re in love. Am I in love with Donovan?
“I think you’ll have to watch the show to find out.”
Melissa kept her head down and paced the far wall of the living room as the interview wrapped up. She was embarrassed that her mind had gone directly to her and Donovan at that question. Even though nobody could tell, just the simple fact that her own mind had gone there felt like the whole world was onto her.
Once all the pleasantries had been exchanged and Sabina and her crew had left, Donovan came into the living room beaming.
“So? Major success or what?”
Melissa sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I wouldn’t exactly say that.”
“Oh, come on. What did I do wrong? I nailed that interview, and you know it.”
She sent him a flat look. “Donovan. You were practically playing a character. Which, actually, is fine. But damn. You gave her what she was looking for, you know.”
“Yeah. I did.” He shrugged, perching on the armrest of the couch. “So what?”
“She’s going to use this against you. And if not her, then someone else. You’re playing with fire when you go into those territories. You need to tread carefully.”
He waved away her words, dismissing it entirely. Irritation sparked deep inside. “I don’t care. This is publicity, and that’s what I’m here for.”
“Not all publicity is good publicity,” she reminded him.
“No, Melly. You’re wrong. All publicity is good publicity, and I want it for my company.”
There was no point in arguing with him. He’d made up his mind. He came over and squeezed her shoulder. Soft and tender, reminding her of what they’d shared yesterday. What they’d been sharing since day one.
“I’m heading to a meeting for work, but I’ll be back later. Will you be around?”
She jerked her head into a nod, trying to force a smile. One that wouldn’t betray the emotions that had rumbled to life inside her. Donovan pressed a quick kiss to her forehead then let himself out of the house. Melissa slumped onto the couch, trying to confront the ugly emotions that had cropped up inside her.
The interview rubbed her the wrong way. Way wrong. It felt like confirmation somehow. Yet another reminder that Donovan wasn’t the man for her.
He loved the spotlight. And stirring the pot didn’t even register with him. Melissa knew the myriad ways this could end poorly—and so did Donovan probably—but that wasn’t a red flag for him. No, if anything, it was green.
He wanted to race to the finish line, and he expected a full crew to be there waiting for him. More than expected—he wanted it.
While Melissa just wanted to crawl into a dark hole and wait until people forgot her name.
Whatever they’d shared yesterday was beautiful. But it was a false hope.
Because at the end of it all, Donovan was always going to be the media darling and Melissa, the media grinch.
14
Finally. Progress was being made on the show.
They were halfway through filming, which meant break time. Donovan was glad for it. They’d narrowed down the contestant pool to just four ladies—Gemma, who was also a CEO like Donovan; Heather, who was a musician; Lindsay, who was an actress hopeful; and Tara, because Donovan just couldn’t say no to her sweet girl-next-door persona.
The next step was a series of family visits, in which Donovan would spend a weekend at each contestant’s family home, meet the parents, and create some level of drama that would lead to the final two. Almost the home stretch. At least now he’d get week-long breaks punctuated by weekend visits where he had to keep playing this playboy-Donovan charade when really, he just wanted Melissa to agree to get on the show.
Sure, she was in the show, but he wanted her to become a contestant. So he could pick her. The show would have ended weeks ago if she’d done that.
But maybe she knew that was his game plan. Maybe she was wise to protect the viability of her show by staying out of the running and just on the sidelines.
But did she know that picking her wouldn’t be a game at all?
Donovan strode through the house, making laps, checking on all the different workers uninstalling the show’s cameras. Since they’d be off filming for four weeks, Donovan had arranged for the show to vacate for that time frame. Just so he could get some semblance of normalcy again. Once only two contestants remained, they’d return to the house for two more weeks of filming.
And then…done. Donovan headed for the pool, remembering the cameras out there, wanting to check that they were gone too. The reality chapter of his life would be closed. He was readier for that moment than he’d expected. Maybe it was the unexpected stresses of living with a camera crew. Or maybe it was the fact that he was about to be a father and his baby mama had walls erected so tall he didn’t know how to scale them.
“How’s it feel?” Melissa’s voice cut through his thoughts. He spun around, pleased to find her lounging on a chair by the pool. She’d worn a wraparound dress that day that lay crumpled at her sides. Her sun-kissed limbs stretched out, breasts pushing at a taupe bra. Donovan clenched his jaw.
“You’re going to have to be more specific,” Donovan said, measuring his words, his actions. The crew wasn’t gone yet, so he couldn’t just cover her body with his own in broad daylight. Yet.
“Having your house to yourself again.” She adjusted her wide-brimmed hat, grinning up at him. “Must be nice. Now you can just wander into your gamer’s paradise without calling Secret Security beforehand.”
He eased down onto a lounge chair at her side, taking another appreciative drink of her relaxed frame.
“Exactly. And I can use my own bathroom to brush my teeth.” He scanned the backyard. No sign of the crew. He balled a fist, suddenly desperate that they get the hell out of here. He wanted this private time with Melissa. Before the family visits started. Before time began its inexorable march toward the end of this show, when things would change irrevocably. “What are you doing out here? Sunbathing on the clock?”
“This is one of the perks of my job. Don’t interrupt my quiet sunbathing time.”
“I won’t interrupt. I’ll just quietly observe.”
She smirked. “Like a creeper.”
“It’s not creeping if I’ve announced my intentions.”
A laugh burst out of her. “Fair enough.”
A worker poked his head out of the double glass doors at the back of the house. “All set, boss. We’re packing up and heading out now. See you guys in a month.”
Melissa gave a thumbs up sign, and Donovan nearly crumpled with relief. They were leaving. Finally, finally…there would be a taste of normal with Melissa at his side. He waited a few moments, listening for the distant thud of the front door.
“What are you, a bloodhound?”
Donovan turned to her. “What are you talking about?”
“You look like a hunting dog. Waiting for the prey.”
He smirked. “Hang on.” He headed for the back doors, then pointed meaningfully at her. “And don’t move.”
Donovan raced through the house to do a final sweep, double checking that the crew’s van had pulled away from the cul-de-sac. All clear. He hurried back out to the pool.
“What was that about?”
“Just making sure they’re gone.” Donovan heaved a sigh of relief. One that had been building since the day the cameras had gone in. He tore off his T-shirt and lay down on the lounge chair next to Melissa. Time to relax. And enjoy as much time as possible with Melissa before she decided to bolt. “Time to tan.”
Melissa snickered. “And you couldn’t do that while they were here?”
“Didn’t want to make those guys feel bad.” He gestured at his torso. “With all this, you know.”
“Yeah. Once you take you
r shirt off, nobody can resist the charm of your six pack.”
“It’s a hard life to lead, but someone has to do it.”
Melissa grinned but then winced when she crossed her legs. Her hand shot to her thigh.
“What’s wrong?”
“I dunno. I’ve been having some leg pain recently.” She ran her thumb up and down the side of her thigh. “The doctor thinks it’s pregnancy related, so she gave me some recommendations.”
“Sunbathing?”
“Pool, actually. But I didn’t bring my suit.”
Donovan gestured to the absence of people around them. “You don’t need one. Look around. No people. No cameras. I’ve seen you naked as recently as three days ago. Just get in.”
She sighed, sitting up. “Well when you put it like that…”
Donovan grinned as she shucked the sunhat and the dress.
“You look like a bloodhound again,” she commented, shimmying out of her panties.
“Yeah. There’s some blood moving around right now.”
“Oh, stop.” She laughed, then unhooked her bra. Donovan narrowed his eyes, drinking her all in. The playful curve of her lips. The swell of her sun-kissed belly that suggested maybe, just maybe, there was a baby growing in there. Her honey blonde hair shone in the sunlight. “You going to join me?”
“Sure.” Donovan couldn’t have said no if his life depended on it. “I’ll help you with your aquatic therapy.”
“Why does that sound sexual?”
“It doesn’t, Melly. You just can’t see past the fact that I’m a sex god, so everything I say sounds suggestive to you.”
She shook her head, heading to the wide steps that descended into the pool. “I don’t know about that.”
“Which part?” He followed behind her, unable to rip his gaze off the melons of her ass. “Because you know the sex god part isn’t wrong.”