Captivated by You

by Diane Alberts

  He flushed. “Yeah. Maybe.”

  “I get that. I’ve never thought of the other side of the business before.” She lifted her hands then dropped them back in her lap. “I mean … I’m sure women are always throwing themselves at you. It can’t be that lonely.”

  “Oh, they do throw themselves at me. But not the right kind,’” he murmured, his eyes on her. “Not the right one.”

  She nibbled on her lip and turned away. “It can’t be easy for a regular woman to attract your attention. I would imagine a normal woman would be scared you wouldn’t even see her mixed in with all of those actresses and models.”

  “Well, then …” He stepped closer to her by an inch or so, yet she felt his heat urging her to lean in. To sway toward him. “She would be wrong. I’m not into actresses.”

  He couldn’t possibly mean that she was the right type of person, or that she should let him know she wanted him. The champagne was messing with her head. And yet … right now, it looked as if he wanted her. Wanted to kiss her.

  “I’m sure the right woman will come along someday,” she managed to say.

  “What if she already came along?” He kneeled down at her feet. “Do you ever worry maybe the one you were meant to spend your life with is already gone? Like maybe you missed your chance because you weren’t ready then?”

  “Sometimes, yes,” she admitted, picturing him laughing at her across the lunch table at school. She looked down at her lap, clasping her hands together. “But for now, I’m content as I am.”

  “I want you to be happy, not to settle for some asshole because he seems good enough. You deserve more.”

  She would not swoon at his words, nor would she read more into them than she should. “What about you? Don’t you have some young, hot actress expecting your arm for the red carpet tomorrow night?”

  “I do have an event, yes, but I’m kind of stuck here at the moment.”

  There it was again. The painful reminder that he was only here because he needed a tow. “Right.”

  He plucked her glass out of her hand. “Are you sure you’re not seeing anyone?”

  She squared her jaw. “Are you?”

  “No. It gets too messy, remember?”

  He let go of her legs and tucked her hair behind her ear. The touch seemed more intimate than before, and her body begged for more with a steady tensing of her muscles. What was he doing? “Right.”

  How many times in the past three minutes had she said right?

  “Now answer my question.”

  “I already did, you idiot.” She tilted her chin up, meeting his eyes defiantly. “No, I’m not seeing anyone.”

  “Good. Because I’ve wanted to do this since you opened the door.”

  He lowered his head and closed his mouth over hers. She gasped in shock, unable to believe the same man she had been half in love since senior year was kissing her. He took advantage of her open mouth, slipping his tongue in between her lips, and she forgot to think at all.

  Chapter Three

  Mark slid his tongue inside her sweet mouth, unable to resist the temptation of her lush lips any longer. He pulled her closer, but kept his touch on her arms light, in case she wished to pull away. When she snuggled closer and entwined her hands behind his neck, he groaned and deepened the kiss. Ever since he’d walked into this house, he’d wondered if she tasted as good as he’d dreamed she might, but she tasted a million times better.

  He trailed his fingers down her bare arms, tracing the curve of her wrist lightly before gripping her hips and pulling her closer. He knew he should pull away and apologize for touching her, but he needed a few more minutes of heaven before he stopped. He lived halfway across the country, and she would never want to deal with the crazy lifestyle he was buried neck-deep in, so he knew this was a one-time thing. A mere taste of what could’ve been, if he hadn’t run to California all of those years ago.

  If he hadn’t needed to make something of himself, away from here, away from her, maybe it could be more. But he knew otherwise. His feelings were such a turnaround of what they’d been the last time he’d seen her. He had known she had feelings for him, but also knew he didn’t want to be tied down to a college girl while he sought out his dream.

  Back then, he’d been slightly curious if she would rock his world, and more than a little bit tempted to kiss her to find out, but he hadn’t touched her even once. To do so would be opening himself to her, and opening her heart to him when he had no right to do so. And yet when she’d moved to kiss him that night, he wondered how good she would feel—right until she threw up all over him.

  He’d taken the vomiting as a sign. Fate had not meant for them to be together then, just as he shouldn’t be touching her now. Nothing had changed in all these years. Tomorrow he would be back in California, a crowd of admiring women around him. Even the most confident woman would be insecure when faced with having to be “the girlfriend” in such situations.

  What would Gary say if he showed up to his film premiere with the girl next door? His publicist would spin it as “Mark Delaney takes his cousin to the red carpet event.” Or would she turn it into a Cinderella story where the Hollywood bachelor falls for the pretty schoolteacher?

  But Lacey wouldn’t even want to go to those stupid parties or premieres. That wasn’t her style. No, she would stay here, maybe fall in love with some lucky bastard. Thoughts of Lacey kissing the faceless man sent rage pumping through his veins.

  She needed to be here. Teaching. Having a normal life. He didn’t belong here with her, even if she felt way too good in his arms, fitting to the curves of his body with mind-numbing perfection as if she were made for his pleasure alone. He forced himself to let go of her, but couldn’t stop kissing her. Not yet.

  He didn’t deserve her. He’d proven that when he’d left. Still, he knew she’d always be there for him, as she had when they were children. And after his Hollywood career faded, and he became a has-been, Lacey would stay by his side.

  Unlike the other women he’d been involved with, she wasn’t kissing him because he was Mark Delaney—she kissed him in spite of it.

  Until now, Mark liked being on his own. Preferred it even. He wouldn’t throw Lacey into the midst of paparazzi chases and flashing cameras. When she moaned and clung to him, her breasts pressing into his chest, he bit back a groan. Time was up. If he didn’t stop now—he might not be able to. With a massive amount of self-control, he pulled away from her, dropping his forehead to hers. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

  “What?” She tensed in his arms. “Why not?”

  His fake relationship with Sylvia Day flashed before his eyes, but that wasn’t why he shouldn’t have touched her. The real reason was simple. He wasn’t the right guy for her. She deserved better. “I’m not right for you. I’m—”

  She jerked out of his arms and lifted her chin up in the air. “A movie star who has every girl, and some boys, in Hollywood throwing their underwear at him? I get it. I’m plain, my boobs aren’t silicone, and I don’t hang on your every word. I mean, how could I possibly compare with the famous Julia that got paid to make out with you in Remember Me?”

  “What? No. Don’t be insane.”

  He rolled his hands into fists, resisting the urge to show her exactly how much he wanted her. Hell, she was everything he wanted and more. Which was why he had to stay away from her. She didn’t need his brand of crazy in her peaceful life.

  Not to mention, come tomorrow, news of his “relationship” with Sylvia would be all over the news. They’d already “leaked” the photos to Entertainment Tonight, who planned to air them tomorrow afternoon. Just in time for the movie premiere when he would show up with her on his arm, confirming all the rumors they’d planted.

  When the news hit, Lacey would be livid. She would think he made a play for her while he was screwing another woman. That he’d lied to her about being single. She would despise him.

  “Yeah, okay.” She stared him down. “
I get it, Mark. You don’t have to sugarcoat it for me. You’re not interested in anything more than an accidental kiss.”

  He swallowed hard. Should he let her think he didn’t want her, and hurt her now, or tell her the truth? The idea of letting her think she wasn’t good enough for him didn’t sit well. “It’s not true. I’m interested. Very, very interested.”

  She shook her head and stared at his chest. Somewhere in the vicinity of his third button if he wasn’t mistaken. “You don’t have to say anything. Really. It was a mistake. A simple kiss. Nothing more.”

  “No, damn it.” He grabbed her hands in his. “It’s not a simple kiss. I’ve wanted to kiss you ever since we were kids.”

  She scoffed. “Now I know you’re lying. You never once tried to kiss me.”

  “I knew we wouldn’t work together, so I kept my lips to myself.” He sighed and tightened his fingers around hers, forcing her to pay attention to him. “And then tonight, when I saw you, it was like being punched in the gut. I can’t think straight around you.”

  “That’s supposed to be my line,” she muttered, her face guarded. “I’m not the famous movie star in this fight.”

  “Jesus, Lacey. You know me. I’m still me underneath all this Hollywood bullshit. For the first time in my life, I feel like I could have more. I want more. Right now. More from you. More from myself.”

  She ran her thumbs over his hands, gentle and yet poignant. “Maybe you could have more? Maybe we could be more. We’re from different worlds. Or … we are now, anyway. I’ve been hurt too many times to blindly trust that you would be happy with me, after making out with Angelina Jolie. I just don’t … know.”

  “But what if we tried? What if you let me in?”

  She looked up at him without speaking, studying him as if to expose all of his secrets. When she finally spoke, he almost wished she hadn’t. “Let you in? I did let you in tonight, even though you could care less about how I’ve been. Tell me something, Mark. If you hadn’t driven into a freaking ditch—would you have stopped by? Would you have even remembered me as you zoomed by in your Maserati, back to your wonderful life?”

  He opened his mouth and then closed it—unable to lie to her, yet not wanting to tell her the truth, either. “I would’ve kept driving, but you don’t even live here anymore. I knew that.”

  “Don’t give me that excuse. If you wanted to see me, you could’ve asked Eve.”

  His eyes flashed. “I didn’t—”

  “Exactly. You didn’t.” She lifted her chin and stared him down, despite the tears shining in her eyes. “You were fine without me all of these years, and you’ll be fine without me again. This is nothing more than old feelings being brought back to life. It’s nothing.”

  “It’s not nothing. We’re not nothing.” He grit his teeth, not willing to let her trivialize his feelings.

  She shook her head slightly, her mouth pressed tight together. “I’m sorry if you got the wrong idea when I invited you to stay the night, but you need to realize I’m not some discarded toy you can pick back up when you decide I’m interesting again—only to throw me back out when you’ve finished with me.”

  “I wouldn’t do that.”

  “How can I trust you after what you did?”

  She tried to pass him, her eyes on the stairs behind him, but Mark stepped in her path and grabbed her hips. If he let her leave him, she would never come back downstairs. “Don’t go.”

  She pressed her lips together tight and looked up at him with pleading eyes. What she pleaded for, he wasn’t sure. For him to kiss her? For him to back off?

  “Mark …”

  Pressing his hips against her, he showed her how very much he wanted her. Her eyes went wide, and she bit down on her bottom lip hard. Her involuntary gesture only made him harder. He longed to kiss away the teeth marks on her plump lip, to take away the sting. But he wouldn’t. Shouldn’t.

  Forcing himself to concentrate, he met her eyes. “Christ. I want you so damn much. I’ve always wanted you. But tonight? Tonight it’s eating me alive—ripping me open.”

  “Then why aren’t you taking me? Why are we talking right now, instead of kissing? I’m not a kid anymore. If you want me—take me. I’m right here.”

  Oh, how he wanted to do exactly that. Rip the clothes off of her body and take her against the wall. He took a steadying breath. He needed to make her see that she was right all along—that he was no good for her. They wouldn’t work. As much as he wished they could, it wasn’t possible.

  “I can’t do that. I’m going back to my life tomorrow. How are you gonna feel when I’m gone?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Who said I wanted a relationship? I said you could have me—not keep me.”

  “You mean too much to me to sleep with you and leave.”

  “How hard could it be? You could go back to ignoring me as you have all these years.”

  He grit his teeth. “I wasn’t ignoring you. I was busy.”

  “So you were too busy sleeping around to pick up a phone, or send a text letting me know how you were doing? I wrote you letter after letter, and you never sent even one word back. Do you know how hard it was to wait for Eve to offer up a tiny little morsel of information about you—while trying so hard to pretend I didn’t give a damn?”

  “Shit, Lacey, I’m sorry. I did write letters.” He looked down at her tight mouth, his heart wrenching.

  “Right, you wrote letters. I just didn’t receive them. And the dog ate your homework too?” She took a step to the side, but he tightened his grip on her hips. “Let go of me. I don’t want to talk anymore.”

  “I can’t yet.” He closed his eyes, trying to find a way to make her understand his reasoning. A way to make her forgive him, but he came back empty-handed and let go of her wrists. She wouldn’t understand he hadn’t cut ties with her out of spite or disinterest. For the past eight years, he’d been single. No one waited for him. He didn’t have to answer to anyone about where he had been, or who he had been with. He was free, single, and loved every minute of it. And for that, he didn’t have to apologize.

  She headed for the stairs, her back stiff and head held high. As she reached the bottom step, she turned to him, her lip once again caught between her teeth. “I still don’t get it.”

  He shoved his hands in his pockets, resisting the urge to chase after her and touch her again. Kiss her. Have her. “Get what?” he growled, his voice raspy and raw.

  “You don’t do relationships, but only want one night stands in your life? Nothing meaningful?”

  He flinched. “Yes.”

  She blushed. “Then why did you stop kissing me? I wouldn’t have stopped you if you hadn’t pulled away. You could’ve had meaningless sex with someone you know for once, and I wouldn’t have cared when you left me.”

  His heart twisted, while at the same time his erection screamed at him for denying himself what they both wanted. With her, she would always mean more to him than a meaningless fuck. Even if it’s all he would be to her. If he gave into the temptation to take what she offered and leave in the morning, he would never be the same. She would haunt him night and day, and he’d be able to think of nothing else but her—and what they could be if only he’d had the balls to stay.

  His gaze collided with hers, ripping out his heart with the confusion he saw in hers. “Because with you … I can’t do it. I won’t.”

  “I see.”

  Let her take his response as she would, but it’s the best he could give her tonight. If he told her the truth, he’d only be hurting them both. Come morning, he would be back in Hollywood—if he could get a tow truck out here. And from now on, even if he went to bed alone every night, she would picture him as a man-whore, sleeping his way through Hollywood one aspiring actress at a time. He’d seen to that, even though it hurt to say something so ruthlessly untrue. She didn’t need him ruining any chance at a normal life she still had.

  He’d go and fuck it up, just as he did every other rel
ationship he’d ever attempted. She deserved better. So instead of chasing after her, he watched her walk away and up to bed. Alone.

  Chapter Four

  Lacey punched her pillow, angry with herself. Angry at life. Angry with Mark. Yeah, mostly angry with him. He could sleep with every floozy in Hollywood, but sleeping with her challenged his moral code?

  They were stuck with each other until a tow truck could come to pull him out of the ditch. She would never get another shot at Mark Delaney again. Would it be so wrong to take advantage of the situation, and get some fun out of it? She wasn’t a shy teenager anymore. Why deny herself hot sex with her longtime crush?

  He might be trying to resist the tension between them out of some misplaced sense of honor, but now was not the time for chivalry. For years, she’d watched his movies, thought back on all of the time they had spent together. She’d always wondered what would happen if they saw one another again, what she would do.

  Out of all the scenarios she’d imagined, not once had she thought he would refuse to touch her, or that she would let him. She couldn’t allow him to leave without getting a taste of what could have been if he’d stayed. Lacey didn’t want to look back on this night twenty years from now, and regret not having the nerve to tell him how she felt. She wanted him.

  She swung out of bed, feet hitting the cold wood floor. The clock read one a.m. Despite stewing for three hours, Lacey didn’t feel the least bit calmer. Even worse, he hadn’t come knocking on her door, apologetic and horny. Mark had held his ground. He didn’t want her. What was she doing? Surely she wasn’t desperate enough to throw herself at him. To beg.

  The hell she wasn’t.

  She opened her bedroom door, marched down the stairs, and into the living room. He sat on the couch watching a movie. He’d removed his jacket and striped shirt, and wore only his black pants. His tight abs, which she had admittedly suspected might have provided by a body double in his movies, taunted her. Teased her. Her fingers itched to trace the lines of each muscle. Longed to get the chance to know the intimate lines of his body.