by Fran Lee
“Okay. So talk,” she breathed softly as she ran her fingertips over his collarbone.
“No kidding. If you had any idea how many women shove their room keys into my pockets with notes, you’d know how damn boring it all gets.” His voice sounded tired.
“I suppose you’ve had an awful lot of women.” Her voice was muffled by his warm skin but he could hear the concern.
He shifted again. “You really want the gory details? Trust me, sex is not always what you believe it will be.”
She shrugged and kissed his throat, sending a tremor through his massive frame. “I just wanted to know,” she sighed and stopped talking. He said nothing for a long time and when he spoke again, he spoke quietly.
“I got laid for the first time by a friend’s mom. She taught me all about what women expected from me. She was a good-looking woman and she wore these tight shorts and halter tops out in the yard. I went over to mow her grass and ended up getting paid every week to get laid. That went on for a year. Her husband found us and had a royal cow. That ended that pretty fast.”
Sam swallowed and remained silent. The revelation was shocking but she realized he wanted to get it out in the open. She made a small sound in her throat and listened.
“After Mona, the women were standing in line. Hell, a guy is in seventh heaven when he can get anything he wants just for taking some bored housewife to bed. I had a hell of a time of it when my mother found out what I was doing. She has her own code of ethics and her ethics didn’t include adultery. She raised hell until I finally spent the last half of my senior year at a boarding school in Virginia. Sort of a military academy. No females. It was there that I learned I was damn good at athletics other than sex. I learned a lot about self-discipline. I also gained about sixty pounds and added about eight more inches of height.”
He paused for a few minutes and she simply waited. “After that I went to college in Michigan, played some football and got into collegiate wrestling and swimming. I found I was pretty good at all three but when I didn’t pass muster for a pro football team, I decided to work my way into pro wrestling.” He drew a deep breath. His long fingers twirled a silken strand of her hair as he spoke quietly.
“Women were a real problem. There were always too damn many. I went a little crazy. Then, after a couple of years of total excess and trying to be a super stud, I went completely celibate. It was one hell of a lot easier than dealing with the women who only wanted to see what it was like to have sex with Chance Braza, and one hell of a lot safer. The problem was, the notoriety made it even harder to stay away from sex. If you ever had a few dozen women throwing themselves at you day in and day out, you’d get pretty tired of it.”
She wiggled closer and sighed. “Good thing you bunked in with a woman who has total control of herself. It would be a real turnoff if you had to deal with a roommate who behaved in that kind of depraved manner.”
“I genuinely don’t think I could deal with a sex-mad woman who jumped my bones every time I turned around.” His grin was barely concealed by his serious tone of voice.
“You are so lucky to have found me. Not many women have the willpower I have, David. Why, I’ve actually been lying next to you for the past twenty minutes without so much as forcing myself on you.” She sighed and inhaled the warm scent of his skin.
“Okay. Now that I’ve bared my soul, shut up and take advantage of me while we still have fifteen minutes left.” He rolled her under him and bent to taste her rosy nipples.
“David. I told you, I’m not that kind of girl.” She gasped then arched upward and moaned. His wonderful hands began to find her sensitive zones and she bit her lip as he teased her until she widened her legs again.
“Oh yes you are.” His growl of satisfaction made her shiver with need.
“I guess you’re right about that,” she gasped as he slid slowly into her throbbing pussy once again and began a tantalizing, aching rhythm that drowned out her thoughts and made her forget her own name.
“David!” she cried against his hair as he drove himself to the root and gave a growl of triumph as he came hard. Her own orgasm clenched her tightly around his cock and as they lay gently rocking against one another to savor every tiny drop of pleasure, she whispered hoarsely against his lips, “I think we still have five minutes.”
* * * * *
How she got through the party was a mystery to her. When they arrived, he was beside her every moment, his fingertips brushing her skin seductively as they moved from group to group and conversation to conversation. The gown she wore was low-backed and the shivery feel of his hand on her bare skin left her breathless and giddy.
The buffet was delicious but she barely tasted a bite. She moved in a cloud of desire as she went through the motions but seemed somehow apart from everything in the room. She saw only him, heard only him. She smiled and nodded and conversed with Vic and Yvonne and others but her entire world was standing beside her, his hand on her back, his solid presence warming her side.
And then she heard someone say loudly, “I feel sorry for him. Look at how she hangs all over him like some pathetic groupie.”
She stiffened, blushing warmly despite her outward calm, and realized how she must look to all these people. So pathetically infatuated with a man whose gorgeous face and body made her look like a washed-out rag by comparison. She swallowed her humiliation and realized that she must appear to be so utterly besotted with him, she had no brain of her own. She imperceptibly moved a few inches from him and shivered as she felt his warmth leave her body.
And then he saw someone across the room, and bent to kiss her cheek and say he would be back in a moment. She felt almost as if she had lost hold of a lifeline, feeling completely alone in a crowd of over a hundred people.
Yes. She was pathetic. She forced herself to let him walk across the room without following him hungrily with her eyes. Without constantly glancing around to locate him as she joined a conversation with Heidi and Heather and forced herself to release the tightly stretched need to touch him. And when he returned to her side, she did her best to maintain a distance, evading his hands when they sought to rest on her body or caress her arm. Even when he glanced at her with a quiet frown on his face, she pretended that she didn’t notice. She had to start behaving like an independent, strong woman again. Because a dream couldn’t last.
Chapter Twelve
The week flew by, with the men and divas rehearsing moves and working-out days while the wives and girlfriends shopped and played cards in their hotel suites, or pigged out at the sushi bars that seemed to line every street with neon. And after the evenings’ events, she found herself helplessly entangled with the man of her dreams, making love and thrilling to his body as if every night would be their last together.
She hated knowing that she was so damn madly in love with a man who she worried felt nothing but a momentary heat for her, who would move on with his life after another three months and would never look back. And she knew that others were simply waiting. Waiting and watching for her temporary mate to lose interest and start casting his eye about for the next sexual conquest.
She did have to give him credit on his acting ability, though, because if she was not completely aware of the nature of their relationship, she might have been fooled herself, by his constant, ardent attention and his ability to make her forget her own name in bed. But after six months, he would quietly sign the release documents and she would be alone again.
They lay in bed, wrapped in each other’s exhausted, sweat-slicked bodies as David ran his fingertips slowly over her whisker-burned breast, his eyes closed in sated relaxation. He felt her draw a deep sigh and he murmured huskily, “Spill it, Sam. You’ve wanted to say something since we left the arena. Is something wrong?” His eyes opened and met hers.
She sighed and closed her eyes. “Just thinking about the party Vic wants us to attend tonight. I think I would just prefer to stay here and have room service sent up.” She shivered at t
he touch of his lips on her erect nipple as he replaced his fingertips with a gentle tug of his warm mouth. “I feel totally drained after a full week of parties and matches and everyone shoving champagne or a cocktail into my hand every time I turn around. You go ahead. I think I’ll try to write a little.”
David drew back, his eyes concerned. “This is a really big deal tonight, Sam. Vic says you have to be there. We can cut it short if you want. But I can’t go without you.”
She gazed up into his dark eyes and wondered what he would say if she blatantly refused to go. But then, her presence here was payback for what he believed was a wrong she’d done to him and her needs and wants were not involved. Another huge sigh lifted her chest and she closed her eyes wearily. “I need to shower. And find something to wear. And I can’t if you’re lying over me like a fur rug.”
David frowned at the tone in her voice. Had he done something wrong? She had seemed to enjoy the time they’d just spent in bed. Was he losing his touch? Or was she getting tired of him? No. She still responded instantly to every caress, every gentle kiss. It must be his imagination.
He was so fucking pathetic the way he followed her around, feeling lost unless he was touching her, feeling her breath warm on his skin, seeing her face at ringside when he had a match. He knew how people were laughing at him but he didn’t give a damn. He only had three more months-three fucking short months-before she would quietly move on with her life and he would just go back to his own pitiful existence. He was like a drowning man. He felt totally lost without her by his side or under him in his bed.
He pressed his mouth over the throbbing vein in her neck and pulled her over his chest to straddle his hips once more, watching her face flush and her eyes darken to a hunter green. He caught her face between his hands as she lifted herself to slide down over his cock, taking him into her channel with a soft moan of pleasure. He panted raggedly as he watched her sinfully curved little body undulate on his, stroking so erotically as she rode him.
He needed to be deeper, buried so deep he would feel her very soul. He shoved his body sideways on the bed until his upper body hung off the mattress and he dragged her legs off to plant her feet on the floor beside his shoulders. She gasped at the feel of him angled so that his cock was pressed against her G-spot. He dug his heels into the mattress and lifted his hips to drive his cock deep and hard, as he pressed her back to rest against his legs.
He pumped upward with hard, gasping strokes. His arms held him up as his cock moved in and out of her body like a jackhammer, driving him closer and closer to ejaculation with every little whimpering moan and every little twitch of her ass against his thighs. He took one hand off the carpet and slid his fingers into the wet curls where his cock was moving in and out of her body. He found her engorged little clit, tweaking it gently between finger and thumb and feeling her sheath clench around his cock in the throes of a massive, screaming orgasm as he pounded into her several more times before releasing and sliding weakly to the carpet, with her sitting impaled on his cock, his calves still resting on the rumpled mattress.
She stared down into his perspiring face, her eyes wide with shock. “My God. That was…different. That was amazing,” she panted.
“That was one hell of a workout.” His teeth flashed in a wicked grin. “I think I’ll incorporate that into my toning exercises from now on.” He was so tired he could barely breathe and when she rose from him to go take her shower, he closed his eyes and almost whimpered as his cock slid from her sheath to flop on his belly. He was so fucking addicted.
* * * * *
The party was in full swing by the time they arrived half an hour later than expected. Victor saw them and called out from across the room, waving them over to the group he was standing with and as he introduced them, he laughed, “I don’t think I have to introduce Chance Braza. His face is plastered all over the known world these days. But I want you to meet the little lady who is responsible for that.” He placed a hand on her nape and grinned down into her flushed face. “Samantha Hastings, I want you to meet Hector Ramirez, president of LABS Broadcasting in Los Angeles, and this is his wife, Juliette.”
She smiled and shook hands with the tall, dark-haired man in his mid-fifties before turning to smile at the wife. The wife was, of course, blonde but petite and with brown eyes and a supercilious smile. She noted the woman’s expensive designer gown and she said, “I envy you. I wish I had the figure to wear that fabulous dress.”
The supercilious smile changed imperceptibly. Dark brown eyes seemed to flicker over her and Juliette Ramirez lifted one golden brow thoughtfully. The woman extended a manicured hand sporting several massive diamond rings and she replied lazily, “And I envy you. I wish I had a man who was as obviously crazy about me as yours is about you.”
Sam blinked and blushed, glancing at the smiling Ramirez, who simply laughed softly at his wife’s outrageous comment. “My lovely wife was quite taken with the way Braza ran you to earth in front of a few million fans. She is a great fan of your novels and is an incurable romantic.”
“I was wondering if you were interested in writing a screenplay for us, Ms. Hastings?” Juliette turned a petulant shoulder to her husband and smiled brilliantly at Sam. Startled by that statement, Sam blinked and floundered for a response.
“Me? Write a screenplay? About what?”
“Well, Hector and I are negotiating with your business manager and publisher for rights to make a film out of your fantasy romance series, The Lost King of Balterra. If they and you decide to accept our offer, you stand to be a wealthier woman by far. And we already have someone in mind to play the male lead.” Her eyes slid to David, who was still deep in conversation with Hector Ramirez.
Sam swallowed, unable to frame an immediate response. When she got control of her tongue, she replied rather breathlessly, “I had no idea my novel would find its way to Hollywood. I’m flattered that you think it’s good enough to make a film of.”
“Good enough? My dear, your first novel sold over half a million copies in less than a year. It was on the New York Times Best Seller list for twenty-four weeks. You do yourself an injustice.” Juliette’s smile was quietly assessing.
“Well, I suppose I’ll have to get in touch with my business manager. I appreciate your interest.” She shook her thoughts back to earth and asked, “So you are in the film-making business with Mr. Ramirez?”
Hector Ramirez laughed softly. “Juliette was already a high-powered movie producer when I first met her, Samantha. Is it permissible for me to call you that?”
Sam drew a slow breath. “Yes, of course.”
“And you must call me Hector, since we will undoubtedly be working together in the future.”
Sam startled the man by turning to Juliette and saying quietly, “I’ll leave that decision to your wife, Mr. Ramirez. If she doesn’t consider it too familiar.”
The blonde laughed outright. “I think I’m going to really like you, Samantha Hastings.” Her eyes danced with deviltry. “Of course you may call him Hector, as long as you don’t keep calling me Mrs. Ramirez. My name is Juliette. My close friends call me Juli. And it looks as if we are to be very close friends.”
She felt David’s hand tighten gently on her shoulder and she glanced up into his face. “Did you know about this, Chance?” She used his ring name.
“Only when Hector approached my manager to see if I might be interested in playing some wild-ass character called Chance Davis.” His dark eyes met hers and she blinked. “I told him I didn’t know if the part would fit my personality.”
Sam pursed her lips. “Well, if you had the right screenwriter and you got some acting lessons, you might just manage.”
He moved closer against her back and she could feel the response to her teasing. She laughed a trifle breathlessly and her eyes moved back to Juliette’s smiling face. “I don’t know if I can work with this man. He is totally impossible to control.”
“Oh, I think you have no trouble at
all controlling him, Samantha. I’m sure he’ll do anything you ask, if you just ask the right way.” Juliette glanced up into David’s dark eyes and slipped her arm through her husband’s crooked elbow. “Let’s go get something to eat, darling. It looks like our friends have forgotten entirely about supper and they both look hungry.”
* * * * *
It was well after midnight before they were able to slip away from the party. Sam had met no less than a dozen producers and directors who all expressed interest in her books. Her head was spinning with all the proposals and business talk. The meal hadn’t settled well and she’d had one too many glasses of wine. She had simply smiled at them when they got into detailed discussions and said sweetly, “You’ll have to discuss that with my business manager, I’m afraid. Here’s her card.”
Victor Mulvayne was in seventh heaven. She could see his mind counting all the cool cash his star performer was going to bring in for him, since he held David’s exclusive contract for the next three years. And Frank James was pleasantly contemplating the hefty commissions he would collect when he negotiated a couple of ultra-sweet movie deals for his client.
She was overwhelmed by all the possibilities thrown under her nose during the evening and by the time David drew her out of the private ballroom and toward the elevator, she truly felt shell-shocked. In fact, she was so bone-tired, she could barely think.
How in God’s name could she manage to write something as complicated as a screenplay, when she’d barely been able to write one damn word in months? It was, indeed, the chance of a lifetime and here she stood, nursing a case of writer’s block from hell. She felt uncertain, out of control and frightened. What the hell was she doing in this circus? On this mad merry-go-round?
She desperately needed to start writing again. To start feeling as if she existed in the real world, instead of some breathless sexual fantasy of David’s. His hands touched her. His body grazed hers deliciously. His eyes followed her. He wanted her. He enjoyed her. But as she wondered if he would ever really love her, she felt a sense of total hopelessness wash over her weary soul.