by JC Harroway
‘It’s not that I care. But the money makers do, and the money makers drive the movies that are made.’
‘So take the money out of the equation. Work for free on a project you’re passionate about, produce your own work, think differently.’ My cheeks glowed—I had little knowledge of the movie industry, uncertain if such things were even possible. But my faith in his abilities was rock solid and, as always, I wanted to help. ‘Your fans will still be there—I’ve seen them screaming for you. You could be a pantomime dame and they’d still worship you.’
He slid his gaze sideways with a ‘don’t be silly’ twist of his mouth.
Ignoring him, I ploughed on. ‘Would you consider going back to the theatre?’
‘Huh, my father would love that—you’re starting to sound like him now.’ The warning was there, friendly enough, but a warning nonetheless.
‘I’m not taking his side—I’m one hundred per cent on your side, Nathan, and that’s why I want you to do what you want. If you want grittier roles, grab them, make it happen, show the haters what you can do.’
‘Are you trying to fix me, Doctor?’ His dimple flashed and the heat was back in his eyes. I’d missed it.
‘I would, in a heartbeat.’ I reached for his hand, brushing his scar with my thumb. The redness was fading—I’d done a good job. ‘But you don’t need fixing. Fuck the haters, Nathan. Don’t let them hold you down.’
I’d always be there to stitch him back together if he needed me, but I held back the confession, fearful my declaration was too much, too soon. For both of us.
‘Fuck the haters, eh?’ His mouth twitched as he pulled into the studio parking lot. ‘I’d rather fuck you, Soph.’
‘Well, lucky for you, that can be arranged. How long will this take?’ Nathan was shooting a luxury fragrance campaign that Tyler was directing.
‘Couple of hours.’
I’d toyed with the idea of returning to Los Feliz for a soak in the bath and a spot of packing, but I’d much rather watch Nathan, and he’d assured me it wouldn’t take long.
Part of the vast studio was furnished to look like a loft-style apartment. A large platform bed dominated the space, covered with artfully rumpled white bed linens, while soft gauzy drapes billowed at the windows, blown by an unseen wind machine.
I waved at Tyler who glanced up from a computer monitor and smiled. I wandered over to sit with him, accepting introductions to the shoot’s photographer and stylist.
After thirty minutes in hair and makeup, Nathan emerged wearing a black tuxedo with a loosened bow-tie looking slightly dishevelled—just the way I liked him. His hair was messy in that just-crawled-out-of-bed way and the tux fit him perfectly, showcasing his broad shoulders and muscular backside.
My mouth watered and I squeezed my thighs together. Glancing my way, Nathan winked before returning his attention to Tyler, who gestured at the set.
An exquisite model with flawless golden skin and long jet-black hair walked in, joining the men on set. Tyler introduced her as Tia. She was breathtaking—her large eyes were smoky and slightly smudged, as if she’d had a hard night of partying, which lent her an air of vulnerability that softened her overall look and added to her appeal.
So this was a dual campaign—moody black-and-white shots of an impossibly beautiful couple designed to persuade us mere mortals that if we bought this fragrance, we too could have effortless glamour.
Under Tyler’s direction, Tia and Nathan moved to stand in front of the bed and began to almost kiss and caress each other like lovers. Every tiny movement was prescribed, almost clinical and analytical. The objective doctor part of my brain rationalised this as an act—a play where the characters donned their costumes and played a role to someone else’s script.
But Nathan’s beautiful hand on the curve of Tia’s hip was almost too much for me to witness.
Cooing encouragement, the photographer gave directions I was sure were specifically designed to torment me—‘Bite his lip again, Tia’, ‘Nathan, clutch the strap of her dress like you want to rip it off’, ‘Grab his ass, honey’.
When Tia pressed her face to Nathan’s bare chest, her sultry eyes turned to the camera, acid flooded my throat. I tried to focus on the murmured conversations of the technicians around me, but I knew exactly what she was experiencing. From my position across the room, I could smell his skin and feel his soft chest hairs on my cheek. I longed to be in her place. To tell everyone to leave so I could kiss him for real, rub myself over him, claim him as mine.
‘Tyler says you’re a doctor?’ One of the lighting guys introduced himself, drawing me away from the insanely possessive turn of my thoughts. ‘Josh.’
I nodded, brightening my smile and shaking his outstretched hand. ‘Sophia.’
‘Which hospital do you work at?’
‘I start at St Mildred’s in London in two weeks—paediatrics.’
‘Kids, right?’
I nodded, my attention drawn to Tyler and the photographer who were reviewing the last few frames on the monitors.
Josh moved to adjust the spotlights closest to the bed. Tia now lay sprawled on the white sheets with an open-shirted Nathan leaning over her. She said something and he smiled down at her in an unguarded moment. It lasted only a brief second before the photographer ordered Nathan to run his open mouth over Tia’s shoulder, but the slam of envy knifed me to the hilt.
How could anyone ever get used to this? Yes, I could see how structured this was, everyone here working towards the perfect shot for the client. There were at least ten people in the room, which housed an array of technical equipment and props. Despite the sterling job Tia and Nathan did to produce images that would ooze glamour and sensuality once printed on the pages of a glossy magazine, it was far from sexy.
But physical intimacy was physical intimacy. To most people, touching a stranger’s hand on the bus was too close for comfort. Could actors really detach sufficiently from their work to be immune to the feelings touching another human being that way would surely invoke? There had to be a reason so many co-stars hooked up during working together. Doctors married other doctors or nurses because they understood each other’s work and the pressures involved. Could you really make out with someone and not get turned on? Wasn’t it a natural physiological reaction we were evolved to experience?
‘Awesome, eyes to camera, Nate.’
The skin of my shoulder tingled, the nerves there firing as if his lips had made contact with me instead of Tia. Could I ever grow accustomed to this? Was I overreacting? Being with Nathan was an emotional rollercoaster of amazing highs and petrifying lows, but was I strong enough to withstand the ride?
My possessiveness shocked me—I didn’t want anyone else to experience the smoothness or fragrance of his skin. I didn’t want to share him with the world—I was greedy for the rock climbing, compassionate Nathan who made me laugh, but he came packaged up with the other Nathans and they kissed beautiful women for a living.
I sagged with relief when Tyler said, ‘Let’s take a break.’
Nathan stood and offered Tia a hand up from the bed. He shrugged his shirt back onto his shoulders and she righted the beaded strap of her gown which, seconds ago, had been clutched in Nathan’s hand.
I turned back to Tyler, shielding my insecurities from the man I was falling in love with. A warm hand gripped my elbow and I turned to him, knowing from the feel of his skin on mine that it was Nathan. I brazened a brave smile, choking back the rock in my throat on a tight swallow.
Nathan’s face was a mask of neutrality, but his eyes sparked with fire as he led me from the studio.
‘Nate? I need a word,’ said Jake, skipping after us. I hadn’t even registered he was here.
‘Not now.’ Nathan didn’t even face his assistant, his back tense and his strides lengthening as he pulled me towards his dressing room.
Before the door closed, he was on me, backing me up against the door, his mouth covering mine with a ferocity that mirror
ed the possessive cling of my lips to his. His hand cupped my sex as I pushed the un-buttoned shirt from his shoulders. He’d need to have his makeup reapplied and his hair re-tousled because my fingers gripped his face and clumps of his hair with bruising force. I was wild—a bitch in heat staking her claim on her man.
Nathan pushed me up the door, hitching one of my thighs over his hip as the grind of his erection took the place of his hand. I pulled his hair, tilting his head back even as my other hand clung to his bare shoulder, keeping him close. ‘You smell of her.’ I willed my muscles to switch from pulling to pushing, but I was powerless against the desperation of my need for him.
‘Fuck, I’m sorry.’ He winced, his features twisted with something close to anguish and he buried his face in my neck, sucking a lungful of air in through his nose. ‘I’m so sorry.’
His mouth caressed the parts of my skin he could reach, sucking, licking, marking.
‘Why?’ My voice was a croak, my mouth dry with need.
‘I shouldn’t have asked you to come. I’m sorry.’
Determined to brazen this out, I hid my anguish behind bravado. ‘I’m okay. Unless you’re going to tell me you were this hard for her on that bed.’
He pulled back, his eyes venomous. ‘Don’t! Don’t fucking joke about it.’ Lowering me to the ground and my wobbly legs, he turned away, his hand torturing his hair. He braced his hands on the desk, his head hung while his breaths gusted in and out in harsh pants.
‘Nathan?’
His anguished gaze flew to mine, fire sparking in the emerald depths. ‘I saw you. Talking to the lighting guy.’
I almost laughed. ‘What?’
‘Was he flirting with you? I’ll get him fired.’
‘Are you insane?’ My hands clenched to fists at my sides. ‘I was making half-hearted conversation with some guy whose name I can’t even remember while you were dry-humping Tia and you’re jealous? Do you even realise how ridiculous that is? Can you even imagine what it would be like to stand and watch me roll around on that bed with him? Press my mouth to his bare chest? Bite his lip?’
With each of my questions Nathan paled a little more, but I gleaned little satisfaction in it, too furious in my indignation.
His whole body stiffened, his knuckles whitening. ‘I’d fucking hate it. That’s why I’m sorry I brought you here today. It was fucking stupid. I couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t stop looking for you. I kept thinking of you in my position. Even knowing it’s work. I visualised you on the bed with another man, and I could barely hold on to my stomach contents.’
He did indeed look a little green and relief bubbled up inside me to know I wasn’t alone in the depths of my feelings. I pushed away from the wall, eager to touch him, to comfort and reassure him or maybe myself.
A loud rap at the door halted me.
‘Nate? Ready for you in five.’ Jake’s voice was hesitant from the other side of the door.
‘Fuck.’ Nathan strode to me, pulling me to his chest with crushing force. ‘I’m sorry. I’m an idiot. I thought if you saw how we do this it might reassure you. But all it’s done is show me how much I’d hate it if the roles were reversed.’
I clung to his solid bulk, filling my senses with him, albeit tainted with a whiff of Tia. I understood all about being professional and he had a job to complete here, as much as I hated the idea.
‘How much longer do you have to work?’ I ran my fingers through his hair, still sticky with product and not its usual soft silkiness.
‘We probably have about another hour to shoot.’ His mouth was grim.
I nodded. ‘I’m going to go back to your place,’ I said, smoothing away the frown lines on his forehead with my fingertips.
He held me tighter.
‘You’re going to finish your job here.’ I tugged on his neck, bringing his head down so I could speak into his ear. ‘You’re going to think of me while you work.’ His hair brushed my lips as I pressed them to his ear. ‘And then you’re going to rush home to me.’ Sucking his earlobe into my mouth, I bit down gently. ‘I’m going to be waiting for you in your bed—naked.’
‘Soph,’ he groaned, brushing his lips over mine. When he pulled back to glare at me his eyes were hard, determined. ‘I won’t be long.’
Chapter Eighteen
I replaced the conditioner on the tiled shelf and worried at my lip with my teeth. What had I done? I’d left Nathan in a state of arousal to ‘work’ with another woman.
I closed my eyes, dousing my head under the blast of water. I should have locked his dressing room door and made sure he was nicely sated before I’d left him. But relationships built without trust weren’t worth having and this was his life. At least he’d envisioned how it was for me with his jealous outburst. I’d have to ask him when he arrived home if the poor lighting guy still had his job.
I jumped, screaming as the bathroom door was flung open. A determined and focused-looking Nathan stood in the doorway, already tugging off his T-shirt. With jerky movements he heeled off his boots and shoved down his jeans. His boxers joined the pile of discarded clothing on the tiles, leaving him gloriously naked and very aroused.
My mouth hung open, desire coiling in my belly. ‘Hi.’
Silently, he opened the shower and stepped inside, joining me under the steaming spray. He grabbed the body wash from the shelf and poured some into his hand. ‘I didn’t shower at the studio.’ He filled my cupped palms, too. ‘Help me.’
Together we soaped every lean inch of him, scrubbing away the ghost of Tia like a surgeon prepping a patient for surgery. When his body was covered in scented foam, he reached for a washcloth and began scrubbing his face free from makeup.
I tipped some shampoo into my palm and stood on tiptoes to lather it into his hair, my fingernails grazing his scalp. I wanted my Nathan back and he was under here somewhere.
He ducked under the spray, rinsing away the suds. Droplets flew everywhere as he shook his head, and water cascaded down his body. He looked like a marble statue in a torrential downpour. I licked my lips.
He lunged for me, hoisting me around his waist and pressing me against the cool tiles. ‘I need my mouth on you.’ His voice was gravelly with want. He trailed his mouth down across my face, his lips touching on each of my features in turn.
My fingers tangled in his wet hair, tugging as my need matched his. I arched my back, pressing my hips forward, rubbing his erection between our bodies as his mouth continued its path of fire.
Without ceremony, he dropped to his knees in front of me, hooking one of my legs over his shoulder, and I braced my arms on the walls of the shower cubicle.
‘Nathan …’ I had no idea what I wanted to say to him, wanting everything at once. All of him. I’d craved this all day. Craved him. The need to reclaim him as mine, to scent him, to brand him rushed through me in a tidal wave of possession.
His gaze seared mine as he covered my sex with his voracious mouth and I cried out, my head hitting the tiles as I absorbed the rush of overwhelming pleasure.
Nathan suckled and tongued me like I was his last meal, spreading my legs wider with his shoulders until I could barely stand. Without the wall behind me, and a single-minded Nathan pinning me in front, I’d have been a puddle circling the drain of the shower. As it was, I stood on one decidedly shaky leg on the wet tiled floor. I dug my toes into the marble to gain some purchase and grasped his head in both hands.
Nathan knew my body well and how to pleasure me with devastating efficiency. The sight of his mouth working on me while his green stare witnessed every nuance of my reaction was too erotic, the pleasure too great, and I scrunched my eyes closed. I couldn’t block out the feral grunts he issued against my flesh, but I welcomed them as evidence of his need for me. Just me.
Nathan swirled his tongue in frantic circles, building the ecstasy and pushing me higher towards orgasm. Speechless, gasping and consumed by exquisite sensation, I opened my eyes once more, meeting his triumphant glare which scor
ched me with possessive hunger and I climaxed, clutching him to me and chanting his name as I mauled his shoulders with my fingernails. For endless seconds he kept his mouth pressed to me, until I sagged away from the wall and pushed at him, the pleasure too acute.
He gave me no time to recover, picking me up and carrying me from the shower as the spasms continued to wrack my body. I gripped his waist with my thighs and rested my head on his shoulder, reluctant to come down from my delirious high.
‘No condom in there, baby.’ Depositing me on the marble-topped vanity, he spread my thighs and took his position between them. The stone was cold against my buttocks and water dripped from our bodies leaving puddles on the marble, but one glance at Nathan’s lust-crazed features chased all other thoughts from my scrambled mind.
Producing a foil packet form the vanity drawer, he covered himself with the condom while I traced the water droplets on his hard chest with my tongue.
‘Soph,’ he choked out, tilting my chin up until our eyes met. ‘I only want you.’ Surging forward, he filled me to the hilt. Bracing his hips on the edge of the vanity, he dropped his forehead to my shoulder, groaning. ‘Fuck, you feel amazing. I want to stay buried in you forever.’
I wrapped my legs around him, crossing my ankles to hold them in place, his words fanning the embers of my arousal. His fingers dug into my skin as he pulled my backside forward until I was balanced precariously on the very edge of the vanity.
As he started to move, I locked my arms behind my back, steeling myself against the force of his hips battering my sex. His desire-glazed eyes bored into mine, his face taut with resolve, communicating his feelings to me with a clarity beyond words. Leaning over me, he braced one arm on the mirror behind my head and pulled my mouth to his.
I wrapped one arm around his neck, holding tight as he bucked against me with increasing vigour. My tongue battled with his, and I tasted the remnants of myself on his lips.