“She was perfect,” Hugh said. And it ripped his guts out.
Jessica was stomping the salt and slush off her sneakers on her front stoop when the door opened and Hugh grabbed her wrist to pull her inside and spin her up against him. Delight rippled through her, turning to something much hotter when he kissed her long and deeply.
“Now that’s what I like to come home to after a hard day’s work,” she said, grinning up at him when they finally leaned away from each other.
Her desire was reflected in the blaze of his turquoise eyes. “Something even harder than your work?”
“Get a room,” Aidan called from the living room.
“What are you doing here?” Jessica asked Hugh as he helped her remove her coat. “Not that I’m complaining.” She loved seeing him in her front hall, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt like a normal person.
“Finishing the job he started this morning,” Aidan yelled.
“The running commentary is not necessary,” Hugh responded. He wound his arm around Jessica’s waist and escorted her into the living room, where Aidan stood on a step stool, peeling paper off a high section of wall. “I had a break in the shooting schedule this morning and came by to help Aidan for a couple of hours.”
“Except he hit a troublesome patch and bailed on me,” her brother said.
Hugh’s arm twitched against her waist. “Ungrateful punk,” he said. “I had to go back to work.”
Jessica smiled, relishing the easy banter between her lover and her brother. “I’m so lucky to have two good-looking guys stripping off my wallpaper.”
Aidan groaned. “Yup, it still sounds really wrong.”
“Let me get out of my scrubs and I’ll be right back,” Jessica said.
“Let me help you get out of your scrubs,” Hugh purred, running his hand up and down her back.
“Please do, and then get your ya-yas out while you’re at it,” Aidan said. “I can’t take the overpowering reek of sexual tension.”
Hugh laughed and squeezed Jessica’s bottom, making her squeak. “I’ll finish the last patch on the fireplace wall while you change.”
“And then we can go out to some fancy restaurant?” Aidan asked hopefully.
“No,” Jessica snapped out. Two heads swiveled toward her in surprise. “Let’s stay home and cook dinner.”
Aidan gaped at her. “Since when do you cook?”
“Just because I don’t cook doesn’t mean I can’t.” She could make three dishes with some confidence, so she’d pick one.
“Actually,” Hugh said, “I’m a very good chef. I’ll make dinner.”
Now it was Jessica’s turn to gape. “When did you learn to cook? Your specialty was pancakes out of a mix box.”
“I played one of those self-destructive chefs—you know, alcohol, drugs, and women—in an indie movie a couple of years ago. I needed to learn knife skills, so they brought in a real chef to teach me the rudiments. We got along well, so he gave me a few other cooking lessons, too.” Hugh shrugged. “I find it relaxing.”
“You’re on. Give me a list of ingredients, and I’ll do the shopping while you finish the stripping.”
“Do you know what jicama looks like in the raw?” Hugh asked.
“No, but my smartphone will.” Jessica pecked him on the cheek and raced for the stairs.
By the time she returned with her purchases, Hugh had put on a clean T-shirt over his working jeans and was rummaging around in the kitchen for pots and pans. “This is going to require some improvisation,” he said, holding up one of her ancient cast-iron frying pans to examine its dimensions.
“What are you making?” Jessica asked, setting the contents of her grocery bags out on the Formica countertop.
“It’s a secret. You will just chop what I put in front of you.” But he softened his command by lifting her hair away from her neck and kissing her just behind her earlobe.
“Mmm,” Jessica said as sensation tingled over her skin. “Yes, master. I am your slave.”
“Sex slave, I hope,” Hugh said.
Aidan made gagging sounds from the other room.
Jessica laughed and turned on music from her cell phone, channeling it to a wireless speaker on the counter. “Now Aidan won’t be able to hear us.”
Hugh listened for a minute before shaking his head and pulling out his own phone. “I need hard rock for this job. And beer.” He took two bottles of her craft brew out of the fridge. “At least you stock the truly important stuff.” He flicked off the caps and handed her one. “Aidan doesn’t get his until he’s finished with the wallpaper. Drinking and stripping don’t mix.”
For the next forty-five minutes, Jessica alternated between chopping various vegetables and herbs and watching Hugh not only cook, but dance while he did it. When he came to collect the pieces from her cutting board, he would pull her into a little slow dance with him, his thigh thrust between hers, his hands on her butt, and his mouth against her neck, keeping her in a simmer of arousal. If her brother hadn’t been a few feet away, she would have had sex with Hugh right there in the kitchen.
The three of them crowded around the small oak table to eat what turned out to be a dinner both delicious and healthy. The jicama had been transformed into low-fat french fries while the tilapia sported a crunchy pecan crust. Dessert was a featherlight angel-food cake with a strawberry puree. Aidan and Jessica’s came drizzled with a warm chocolate sauce, but Hugh skipped the extra calories it added.
Jessica hadn’t understood before how important the physical aspect of Hugh’s profession was. His body had to be kept as finely tuned as his acting skills, at least when he was playing Julian Best. She was impressed by his dedication and discipline. Not to mention what a pleasure it was to run her hands over all those gorgeous, toned muscles.
They turned the music up again as they washed the dishes. This time Aidan joined them in boogying around the kitchen. Jessica got another glimpse of Hugh’s talent when the two men played a duet on air guitar to an old Rolling Stones song. Hugh became Mick Jagger with every movement and facial expression. He even seemed to grow thinner.
As she ran a dish towel over the skillet Hugh had eyed so dubiously before, Jessica sighed. “I wish there were more dishes.”
“You’re weird, sis,” Aidan said.
“Just the opposite. This is so wonderfully normal,” Jessica said. She smiled at Hugh as she said it and caught an odd, stricken look in his eyes.
But her brother distracted her when he announced, “I’m going to bed. Want to be fresh for the big job interview tomorrow.”
Jessica gave him a quick hug. “I’ll wish you luck in the morning.”
As soon as Aidan walked out of the kitchen, Hugh looped a dish towel around Jessica’s waist and pulled her into him. “At last I have you alone,” he growled.
“Could you pretend to be Mick Jagger again? I’ve always kind of had a thing for him,” Jessica teased. “But seriously, how did you make yourself look skinny like him? That was amazing.”
“Just actors’ tricks,” Hugh said. “Let’s go upstairs, and I’ll be anyone you want in bed.”
“In bed, I only want you.”
“Good answer.” Hugh draped the towel around her neck and cupped her face in his hands. “Can I stay here tonight?”
“I’d love that.” It would extend the illusion that Hugh was just a regular boyfriend.
He tossed the towel onto the counter and grabbed her hand, towing her to the staircase. Hugh kept stopping to kiss her as they made their way up the narrow, creaky steps, so it took a while to get to the bedroom, and Jessica was practically panting with the need to rip her and his clothes off.
“Where’s Aidan sleeping?” Hugh asked as Jessica started to pull him through the door to her room. “I want to know how quiet we have to be.”
“Don’t worry, those Victorians were prudes,” Jessica said, tugging him in with her. “They inserted a bathroom and two closets between the bedrooms, not to mention some thick
plaster walls. Besides, Aidan sleeps like a dead person.”
“Good, because I don’t want you to hold back.” The intensity of his gaze sent a prickle of heat through her.
However, he came to a halt just inside the door, his gaze skimming around the space. Jessica looked around, too, trying to figure out what he found so fascinating.
The only really standout feature was the star-pattern quilt she had hung on the wall between the two windows. Her grandmother had made it for her mother, and her mother had passed it down to Jessica. She found the bold green, yellow, and blue colors and the geometric pattern almost modern, even as it gave a nod to her Iowa heritage. She’d matched a simple matelassé bedspread to the royal blue of the quilt and added toss pillows that picked up the other colors in their prints. Other than that the furniture was solid but unremarkable Victorian oak.
“So this is your most private space.” Hugh nodded. “It’s you, Jess.”
She frowned. “It’s pretty basic.”
“Not to my eyes,” Hugh said. “I would know exactly how to play you in a movie just by seeing this room.”
“Hmm, I’m not sure that would be as easy as making yourself look skinny like Jagger.” She faced him and ran her palms over the hard, flat wall of his chest.
He laughed, but his gaze was scorching as he lifted his hands to the top button of her blouse. “I need to observe more closely the physical attributes of your character.” He flicked open all the buttons in rapid succession, pushing the blouse off her shoulders. His eyes were locked on her breasts, so she threw her shoulders back to tempt him into touching.
“Being a method actor, I also need to know how they feel.” He slipped her bra straps down to her elbows so the lace cups peeled away from her skin. He curved his hands underneath her breasts, lifting them as though gauging their weight, before dragging his thumbs across her already taut nipples. The friction sent an electric current arcing from the point of contact to the simmer of longing low in her belly, igniting it into a flare of arousal.
“Method acting is an excellent technique,” Jessica managed to gasp as he drew circles with his thumbs.
“I need to know how they taste, as well.” He bent, his hair brushing against her chest like frayed satin, making delight shimmer over her skin. When he fastened his mouth on one nipple, a streak of lightning lanced through her, making her arch into him and cry out. He sucked in, and she grabbed his shoulders to keep her knees from buckling under her.
When he switched to the other breast, her bones seemed to melt into molten desire. “Could you method-act us into bed right now?”
The warm, wet suction of his mouth disappeared from her breast, making her mew an objection, but then he stooped to hook an arm under her knees and scooped her off the floor. This time she didn’t fight him while he carried her the few steps to the bed. She wound her arms around his neck and teased the side of it with her teeth and lips. “Being carried isn’t so bad after all,” she breathed into his ear, flicking her tongue against the lobe.
He held her poised above the bed as she combed her fingers through his hair and licked into the hollow at the base of his throat. His neck was one of his erotic trigger points. She could hear his panting and feel the uneven rise and fall of his chest against her breasts as she played there.
With a harsh groan, he put one knee on the bed and lowered her onto the bedspread. But he didn’t follow her. Instead he leaned over and spread her hair out on the bed before running his palms down her shoulders, breasts, and bare torso. “So beautiful,” he murmured.
“And so desperate for you inside me.” Not that she didn’t enjoy the compliment, but the ache between her legs was not going to be eased by words—unless maybe they were a lot dirtier.
His smile was wicked. “That’s exactly how I like you. Eager and wanting more.”
Jessica grabbed his belt and yanked the end out of the buckle. Unsnapping his jeans and pulling the zipper down, she thrust her hand in to find the hard length of his erection pushing against his black briefs. “Seems like you’re pretty eager, too.”
Another groan wrenched itself from his throat as she stroked her fingers along him. She tugged at the hem of his shirt. “That needs to go.”
She kept her hand on his cock but savored the flex of his arm muscles as he crossed them to jerk the shirt over his head. His abdomen rippled with the movement, and she trailed her fingers over the sculpted muscles there.
He watched her hand move over his body, sometimes reacting with a contraction or an intake of breath. But when she got closer to her other hand, still wedged in his jeans, he suddenly grasped his pants and briefs and shoved them down to free her hand and his cock.
She circled her fingers around him and drew them down to the base and up again, loving the velvet solidity of him. His head fell back as he murmured, “Ahh, Jess.” She did it again, and he grew harder.
She swung her legs around to kneel on the bed and leaned in to kiss the tip, licking the tiny white bead that had formed there. His groan sounded as though it came from his toes, and he clasped her head between his hands. “Once more and then you have to stop.”
She swirled her tongue over him again, making his cock jump, but then he gently moved her head away from him. “I want this first time in your bed to last,” he rasped.
She licked her lips with her gaze locked on his face. “We can always make the second time last.”
His laugh was ragged, and she reveled in her power over this man who looked like a dark god come to earth. “We’ll compromise.”
“I don’t know what that means, but I figure I can’t lose either way.” She lay back again.
“That’s the spirit.” He unbuttoned her jeans and worked them off, leaving her panties behind. She mentally congratulated herself on taking one lunch hour off to go lingerie shopping so she could wear pretty, sexy undergarments for Hugh.
“I like to see how wet your panties are,” he said, trailing his finger down around one opening at the top of her thigh before he burrowed under the satin. When he found her clit and just feathered over it, the coil of longing wound tighter between her legs.
“You feel like silk and a warm Polynesian sea.” He knelt over her on the bed, his hand still beneath her panties. Then he slipped one finger inside her and angled down to close his mouth over one breast.
The movement of his hand, the pull of his mouth, the brush of his thighs on either side of hers, made her undulate on the bed as delicious sensations hurtled through her from every direction. She closed her eyes and rode the wave of desire higher and higher.
When it was close to cresting, she grabbed his wrist. “You, not your hand.”
“But I want to taste you,” he growled against her skin.
“Then it won’t last.”
“Compromise, remember?”
“You’ve been warned.” She released him, and he stripped her panties off with a few deft motions. Pushing her knees wide, he scooted down the bed to lie between her thighs. When his tongue touched her, she felt the first spark of her climax. He licked a long, slow stroke over her clit, and her hips came off the bed as her muscles clenched in a tidal wave of orgasm. “Hu-u-ugh!” she moaned as he licked her again and a second wave of pleasure rolled through her.
He coaxed another surge of release from her and then laid his cheek on her abdomen as she shuddered through the gentler echoes of climax while she came down from the peak. For a while she simply lay there, suffused with the glow of satisfaction, loving the scruff of Hugh’s six o’clock shadow and the tickle of his hair against her belly.
Finally, he lifted his head and licked his lips in the same slow, sensual way she’d done, except she was certain that when he did it, it looked sexier. “That was my kind of dessert. Sinfully delicious and without calories.” His voice was a low purr. He kissed her stomach and slid upward so they lay side by side.
Jessica snuggled up against him to bask in his body heat. “I’m pretty sure I burned calories. My
internal muscles got quite a workout.”
He huffed out a chuckle and nuzzled against her hair. His erection was hard against her hip, but he seemed to be in no hurry to satisfy himself. “My trainer would approve.”
“Those muscles don’t exactly show from the outside.” She kissed his pec because it was there.
“Maybe not, but a satisfied woman has a visible glow.”
She certainly felt as though she shimmered with the bliss of Hugh’s touch. “I think it’s time to give you a glow, too.” She shifted her hip against his cock.
“No rush. I’ll be here all night.” His voice held a deep note of happiness, which she couldn’t quite understand. They’d spent the night together before.
“Well, I might be in a rush.” Pushing him over onto his back, she propped herself up on her elbow to watch his face as she feathered her fingertips over the length of him, trying different angles and strokes to see what pleased him the most. When she worked her way down to cup his balls, his eyelids fluttered closed over the blue blaze of his eyes, and the cords of his neck stood out as he pressed himself into her touch.
She draped her hair over one shoulder and slipped her mouth over him, tasting the salt of his arousal.
“Jes-s-s-s-s,” he hissed, his hips bucking. He twisted his fingers into her hair and held on to it as she explored his cock at a leisurely pace. When she started to increase the rhythm, he gave her hair a gentle tug. “Inside you. I want to feel every inch of you against me.”
His words seemed to run over her skin like liquid fire, stoking the still-radiant embers in her belly back into full flame. She scrabbled around for the condom he’d dropped on the bed when he stripped off his jeans, ripping the envelope open with her teeth and stroking the condom onto him with deliberately teasing touches.
“Vixen!” he said, somehow managing to roll her flat on her back and position himself between her thighs in one fluid movement. Not that she had any complaints when he braced himself on his forearms and began to push into her, slowly going deeper and deeper, while his chest brushed against the taut points of her nipples. “I want to watch you,” he rumbled, flexing his hips slowly and deliberately.
Second Act Page 25