But she’d managed to grab the phone during the tousle, and waved it in the air, gloating. “Now let’s see who called and left two voice mails.” She tapped the screen, highlighting the recently missed calls. “Hmm…looks like your former costar Tanya is eager to speak with you. Wonder what she wants?”
Mick brushed her hair out of her face, his smile unrepentant. “My A-game.”
“I bet.” She waved the phone in his face, almost dropping it when it rang. Mick grabbed for it, but when she saw the name Tanya on the caller ID, she tapped the screen, answering it as she waggled her eyebrows. “Mick’s phone.”
A brief pause met her greeting, then a sensual female voice said, “Put Mick on.”
“I’m sorry, Tanya, he’s busy.” Piper used her free hand to run a fingernail over Mick’s chest, lingering over a nipple.
“And who are you?”
“I’m the one he’s busy with.” She ended the call, handing the phone over to Mick as she leaned in to take a kiss. “Tanya’s upset you won’t be playing with her tonight.”
Mick shook his head, his smile slow and sexy. A low rumble of laughter in his chest shook them both. He speared his fingers through her hair, pulling her down into a possessive, hard kiss that promised round two of the evening’s activities.
“Stay over,” he stated.
“I can’t. That would break one of our rules, remember?”
Mick cupped a breast, lazily tweaking her nipple into a hard peak. Piper drew in breath, her eyes shutting briefly at the sparks of pleasure traveling down her belly and clenching the walls of her sex.
“That’s not fair,” she gasped out as he drew the peak into his mouth, sucking gently. Damn that man’s mouth. It did things to her that made it impossible to think.
Mick released her flesh with a low, sexy chuckle. “I don’t play fair. I play to win.”
“What’s the prize?”
He nuzzled against her breast, his brown eyes darkening with desire. “I’ll let you know when I win it.”
Chapter Ten
“Piper, the pages were amazing.”
In the trailer the studio had loaned her, Piper grinned into her computer’s camera, hoping Chris could see her smile clearly through the Skype connection. She’d finished nearly thirty pages the other night and had sent them off to him right away. Then had immediately wanted to recall the message. What if she’d thought the pages were awesome but didn’t realize they sucked? She’d waited, checking her e-mail constantly to see if Chris had responded.
“Really? You’re not just saying that?” she asked, not really sure if she wanted the truth but knowing she’d get it anyway.
“The pages didn’t suck. In fact, they were some of your best. A little edgy and raw, but amazing. Your hero is so damn sexy that I went home and jumped Paul.”
“Okay. TMI. I don’t need to hear about your fabulous sex life,” she said. Her skin heated when she remembered the other night in Mick’s house. The memories still made her wet.
“Well, you wouldn’t be so anti-sex if you were getting some,” Chris teased.
“Umm…”
Chris’s face filled the computer screen. “Wait. Are you still sleeping with Mick?” He didn’t wait for her to answer, continuing in a more subdued tone. “Piper, we talked about this. Mick Blackwell is bad for you. I thought you were going to get him out of your system and then stay the hell away.”
“We didn’t talk about it. You lectured me, and I ignored you.”
“So, what? You two are an item? He’s sleeping over?”
“Umm…no. No sleepover.”
“Well, thank God for small favors.”
“I told you this was a fling. Nothing serious. Sleeping over is too intimate. I just can’t do that with someone like him.”
“You haven’t done that with anyone since Antonio.” Chris leaned forward again, his voice shifting down into a less hostile cadence. “I get it. You and Mick clicked. The chemistry was amazing, and he’s just your type. Sexy, bold, bossy, and charming. Too charming.”
“That was my type,” she answered. They both let the “before Antonio” remain unspoken.
“You’ve been telling yourself you’re over that type and then go out with these boring guys who won’t interest you for long and who won’t make you take risks.”
“I take plenty of risks.”
“BASE jumping and taking the subway to Brooklyn don’t count,” Chris stated, his frustration showing up in the flash of his hand across the screen. “This guy is a real risk for you, and I don’t think you’re taking it seriously.”
“It’s just sex, Chris.”
“I don’t think you can keep it just sex with a guy like Mick.”
They’d had this conversation a million times. She wouldn’t risk her heart like that again. It wasn’t worth the fall. A man like Mick was off limits for anything other than a strictly physical fling. He was her type, but now she was smart enough to know he was no good for her. Just like carbs and chocolate—good in small, infrequent doses.
“It’s just an affair. Casual. No sleepovers.”
“He’s okay with that? Mick Blackwell doesn’t strike me as a man who follows rules too well.”
“He’s tried to revise the rules, but I’m tougher than I look.”
“Whatever. Just be careful, okay?” Chris sounded concerned, genuinely worried. “Because, sweetheart, that shit you wrote was incredible, and you haven’t been able to do that since Antonio broke your heart. I would hate to see his clone take that away from you again.”
“I know.” She wasn’t going to get emotionally involved with Mick—a guy who could be Antonio’s twin. “He’s been great about the promo stuff. He introduced me to Scott Crews and then stood up to Mr. Cheating Bastard at the club the other night, too.”
“That was pretty cool how he handled Tony,” Chris conceded. “And the pictures of the two of you looked great.”
She’d tried not to look, but the temptation had proven too great, and she’d gone on the Internet to check out the pics of that night. The Internet was full of photos of the two of them—they looked gorgeous, glamorous, and unable to keep their hands off each other.
The photos of Mick staring down Antonio were epic. The magazines and blogs ran them as a feature story, and while some of reporters made snide reminders about her temporary trip to crazy town when Antonio had dumped her, most sided with the supposed budding romance between her and Mick. For the moment, The Mick and Piper Show was one of the hottest tickets in town.
For the moment.
“That Lewis guy is going to call you about more dates,” she said. “Mick is off the charts excited about the buzz this has created.”
Chris nodded. “He’s a publicity whore. But that’s part of his job and probably what his bosses expect him to do—and what your publisher wants you to do, as well. We’ll play along for now, but just be careful. I don’t want to see you hit rock bottom again.”
“I don’t want to be that headline again. The girl who is dumped when Mick trades up.”
“Look, I agree you got unfairly slammed by the press, but you gave them plenty of ammunition. Everyone seemed to forget that Antonio was a cheating bastard who couldn’t keep his dick in his pants and you got screwed when it all played out. But…” Chris paused for a breath, his lips screwing up into a grimace with the effort to either spit out what he wanted to say or keep it in. Apparently, the sharing option won the contest. “But you’ve got to stop caring about all that stuff. It’s in the past. You need to keep being smart about the future. They just want a headline to get more visits and advertisers, and they’ll turn anything into whatever sells. Just don’t give them something to hook on to when it’s over with Mick.”
Silence descended over the Wi-Fi, and if Chris’s face hadn’t remained on the screen, she would have sworn they’d lost the connection. His words were fair, accurate as hell, and she knew they came from the heart. She simply didn’t agree that sleeping with Mic
k was going to be a problem.
“At least tell me to fuck off or something.” Chris broke the silence, his strained laughter betraying his unease.
“No. You’re right. I just don’t know…” Piper let her voice trail off, unsure about how to finish.
“Look, maybe I’m wrong. Maybe you just need a fling, some fun with someone like Antonio to finally exorcise those demons. Then leave it behind when you come home to New York in a few weeks. I’m just telling you to be careful, because Mick is all about Mick and his career. Women and headlines are just part of the money-making machine.” He waited for her nod before signing off, saying, “Send me more pages.”
She left the trailer and headed toward the soundstage, snagging a bottle of water from craft services. Once inside, she wandered around the sets. The soundstage was relatively quiet today, as a scene was being filmed offsite. She’d peeked at the schedule and knew Mick was supposed to be here, working on publicity shots and interviews with the marketing staff.
On autopilot, she wandered onto her favorite set, Regan’s kitchen. There, she stepped into the cool, dim space. Maybe she could figure what she was going to do about Mick.
She was almost to the set when the sound of voices caused her to stop. She could hear the shuffling of many feet on the floor and a man’s voice speaking above the low rumble of voices.
Mick. He was in full-on movie star mode, his tone low and smooth.
“This is the set of Regan’s kitchen. If you’ve read the book, you’ll notice the set designers have nailed every detail from Ms. James’s awesome book—right down to the heirloom chickens.”
He paused, allowing the quiet laughter from the group to die down before continuing his speech. Curious, Piper stepped forward, finding a place where she could view the group while keeping herself hidden. Mick stood near the kitchen island, sinfully sexy in a pair of thigh-hugging jeans and a fitted T-shirt.
The members of the group wore distinct visitor badges, and Piper presumed they were some sort of special tour—probably a fan club or contest winners. Those types of groups went through at least a couple of times per week and were promised a meet-and-greet with one of the stars. Mick was a fan favorite, and he never complained about the time spent with the fans. In fact, he seemed to be enjoying the attention.
He milled through the crowd, and Piper noticed when his attention was captured by a lone woman sitting in a wheelchair on the edge of set. The woman was craning her neck to view the set, but there was obviously much that she was missing from her position. Mick walked over to her, then lowered himself into a low crouch until he was face-to-face. For a few moments, he engaged the star-struck fan in a low conversation.
Piper watched as he gently took the woman’s hand in his, their conversation earnest now, as evidenced by the serious expressions on their faces. Suddenly, Mick looked up and motioned for one of the handlers to come over. After a quick conversation, the staff person stood and directed the rest of the group to exit the stage.
Alone, Mick turned back to his fan, exchanged a few words, and then shifted his position to allow her to loop her arms around his neck and then lifted her out of the chair. Piper was confused until he carefully entered the set, walking slowly around the kitchen, allowing the woman to see everything up close and personal. Once the tour was over, he took her back to her chair, pressed a kiss to her hand, and wheeled her out of the space.
Piper waited until she was sure no one was coming back, then emerged from the shadows and sank down on one of the set’s kitchen chairs. She couldn’t believe what had just transpired. Mick—publicity hound and partying playboy—had gone out of his way to make a complete stranger happy. And apparently for no other reason than to be kind.
It was something Antonio would have never done. And Mick had preserved the woman’s dignity and had done it in a way that garnered him no obvious benefit. It seemed that she didn’t know Mick Blackwell at all.
It seemed like maybe he was one of the good guys.
Damn.
Chapter Eleven
“I think this is the project for you,” Piper stated.
Mick, seated on the opposite end of the couch in his on-set trailer, looked up from his review of Piper’s latest pages and shot her a curious look. He set them down and gave her the “hand it over” gesture. She tossed him the bound proposal, settling back against the cushions to drink her fill of the gorgeous man who she’d spent enough time with over the last two days to know that the left side of the sofa was “his.” He was all long lines of muscle covered in a light-colored button-up linen shirt, worn blue jeans, and with his long, sexy feet bare. Delicious.
Mick opened the binder, his eyes skimming over the first page, head nodding as he neared the end of the executive summary. When he looked up at her, his smile, quirky and a little lopsided, took her breath away. No wonder women all over the world fell for him—he was a living dream of sex and powerful confidence.
“I liked it, too. I don’t think they’ll fight too much to change it from a white guy to one of color.”
“Is that really a problem? It’s not like your racial background has kept fans from buying tickets before.”
He sighed. “I don’t have to fight so much anymore, but originally it was a bitch to get the producers to visualize John Dark as a man with a biracial background. Now that I’m a proven money-maker, it’s a little easier for me. But race will be part of the conversation. Hollywood is still tough for anyone who isn’t white, thin, young, and straight.” His voice dropped a little, evidence of the doubt creeping into his thoughts. “But it’s a tough dramatic part. That makes it an even harder sell.”
“You are a wonderful actor. Look what you’ve done with Chance.”
“Thank you for that, but everyone—at least the people who I have to convince—think I’m only an action movie actor. I chose to play the character of Chance because the part has a good mix of drama and action, and my agent agreed that it would be a good transition part to prove the haters wrong.” He tapped on the binder. “This part, the man is in a wheelchair.”
“You can do this part.” She sat up, crawling over to him until she knelt next him, looking him in the eye. “You tell me that you just need to be able to relate to the character, empathize with his emotions, his life. You’ve got this one down.”
“How can you be sure?”
“I saw you do it.”
He shook his head, his confusion clear on his face.
“I saw you that day at the studio with the woman in the wheelchair.”
“What? How?”
“I was on set, and when you made everyone leave, I stayed.” She shrugged, unapologetic for playing voyeur. “You made sure she had her dignity, treating her with kindness and respect. Only a person who had empathy for her situation would have done that.”
It was clear from his face Mick was struggling with what she’d revealed. Maybe she’d gone too far? Maybe he was pissed that she hadn’t made herself known at the time? The way he’d made everyone leave told her that he absolutely didn’t want an audience, and that included her.
“No one was supposed to see that.” He paused, clearly weighing whether he should continue. “I wanted to help out that lady. I can only imagine what a struggle it is every day, and I wanted to do something nice for her.”
“See, that’s what makes you perfect for this part. You get it. You have empathy. Use it.” She took his hand in her own and kissed his palm. “You get a chance to show them what you can do at an audition and the part will be yours.”
He laughed, shifting the papers and binders around to pull her until she straddled his lap. Piper settled in, soaking in her fill of his beautiful face from the best seat in the house. She enjoyed this part—the talking, the sharing of ideas—as much as the sex. Mick was smart, thoughtful, and very professional about his job and obligations to those who depended on him. He had five people on staff to run the business side of his career, and he took every step seriously.
&n
bsp; There was no doubt he enjoyed the party playboy image his fans adored, but there wasn’t much on the business side he missed, either. This shift in his career was something he’d been working on for a long time in spite of the opposition of the studio and his management. He was brave, and she found that she liked him for it.
She liked him, period.
“Okay, my fierce little advocate…” He playfully pushed her glasses higher up on her nose and kissed the tip. “When are you going to have Chris send your pages to your editor?”
Piper squirmed, not liking the way the conversation was now focused on her. She was very pleased with the book’s progress, but she hadn’t let Chris pass the pages on yet. Her writing was different now, edgy and dark, with explicit sex scenes. She didn’t know how the publisher would feel about her new voice.
“Soon,” she said. “I’m just nervous. What if they don’t like the way my writing has changed?”
“Baby, it hasn’t changed that much. You’re an amazingly gifted storyteller, and your characters feel like they could walk off the page.” Mick toyed with the edge of her top, the whisper of his touch making her belly warm with sensual heat. The glimmer in his eyes switched from playful to predatory. “And the sex scenes are beyond hot.”
“You think so?”
“Yeah. They turn me on. I want to recreate every single one of them with you.”
“We can do that. I hear you’re quite the actor,” she teased breathlessly, her mind racing through all the steamy possibilities.
“Piper, when I’m with you, I’m never acting.”
Mick gripped her arms, pulling her closer, kissing her with almost brutal pressure. She wrapped her arms around his neck, tangling her fingers through the strands of his hair and locking his mouth on hers. Kissing this man was like taking a gateway drug—the first touch was the freebie, the teaser, but once he laid the full monty of soft lips and hot, wet, talented tongue on you, there was no twelve-step program that could save you.
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