Drive Me Wild

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  “No, I’m not writing screenplays. I’ve always known I wanted to write novels.” Maybe she’d made a mistake, telling him about her dad. She should have realized that one revelation might make him want to know more about her. She held her breath, waiting for him to ask why she made so many trips back to L.A., especially considering that she didn’t like the place.

  Instead, he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers gently. “Thanks for telling me about your folks, Miss Molly.”

  He wasn’t going to ask her. Her eyes misted. He was tuned in enough to know that she wouldn’t tell him, even if he asked. He was respecting her boundaries. That alone would be enough to make her fall in love with him.

  12

  ALEC SEESAWED between delight and despair. He loved that Molly had confided in him, but he couldn’t see how he’d ever bridge the gap between a guy who’d grown up in a lower-middle-class neighborhood in Hartford and a woman from one of the royal families of Hollywood. At least he’d had sense enough not to pry when she hadn’t volunteered her reason for making all those trips to California. He’d ventured a guess about the screenplays and known from her tone of voice that he’d hit a dead end.

  So he could wait a little longer to find out the rest. She’d given him a huge gift by telling him about her parents. But my God, Owen Drake. Big stars competed for the right to be in an Owen Drake movie because it was a good bet to sweep the Oscars. And he didn’t want to tell Molly, but he had his own personal copy of The Haunted Lagoon. Molly had definitely inherited Cybil O’Connor’s red hair and fabulous body.

  “So you never wanted to act?” he asked, deciding he could ask questions within the boundaries of what she’d already told him.

  “No, never. Mom and Dad tried their best to make me into a star, and as a kid I wanted to please them, so I tried. And failed. I’m way too introverted. I’d throw up before every screen test.”

  He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. “You seemed like you were having fun when we made that video.”

  “I did have fun,” she said softly. “Because it was for the two of us. I’m not so bad at one-on-one.”

  Alec chuckled. “You’re outstanding at one-on-one. I’ve never met anybody better.”

  “But I want you to know, I’m not…like that normally. With a guy, I mean. After hearing what my agent had to say, I made a conscious decision to be more…adventurous.”

  Desire washed over Alec in warm waves. He forced himself to keep his attention on the two-lane road that curved through the Connecticut countryside, passing wooded areas, quaint villages and white clapboard homes. He’d decided to take the scenic route to Mystic instead of the turnpike, but all he cared to see was the woman sitting next to him. “Are you telling me that I’ve been treated to a side of Molly Drake never before revealed?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “That makes me feel very special.” And very aroused. He’d never been excited about the Mystic shopping trip, but right now he was totally without enthusiasm. He would follow Molly anywhere, but if he had a choice, he’d rather follow her to the bedroom then down the aisles of a curio shop.

  “You are special. That’s why I knew you were the one to take on this adventure with me. I…uh…sort of used you as a model for my hero.”

  “You did?” He found himself flushing with pleasure and feeling very unsophisticated for doing it. “Since when?”

  “Um…since soon after you started driving for me.”

  “Get outta here! You’ve been using me as the model for your hero for months?”

  “I hope you’re not angry, Alec.” She spoke quickly, nervously turning her straw hat around in her lap. “Nobody will ever know except you, but if the idea that I’ve written those sex scenes and basically used you as my prototype embarrasses you, then—”

  “Are you joking? I’m not embarrassed, I’m enormously flattered! I even read some of your book, but I had no idea that you were putting me in that role.” He paused, thinking back over what she’d written. “I’m not that good-looking, for one thing.”

  She smiled at him. “Yes, you are. But it’s very cute that you don’t think so. And I love the way you’re blushing. It makes you even cuter.”

  “Now you are embarrassing me.” But in a good way, he thought. Having a beautiful woman pay him compliments was something he could get used to. “Are you supposed to be the heroine in the book?” The entire subject fascinated him.

  “Well…not really. I mean, she’s prettier, and gutsier, and—”

  “No on both counts. She just has different-colored hair. You’re as gutsy as they come, Molly. And as beautiful, too.”

  “Alec, you don’t have to say that.”

  He glanced at her, admiring how the sun coming through the window created sparks of light in her red hair and gave a luminous glow to her skin. She was like a fine painting by one of the old masters. With regret he turned his gaze back to the road. “If I said anything different, I’d be lying. You’re gorgeous. I can’t believe you haven’t had a million guys say that.”

  “If anyone ever did, I couldn’t trust he was telling me the truth. People would say anything to me if they thought it would get them in good with my father.”

  “Well, I don’t give a diddly-damn about getting in good with your father, so you can trust me. You’re amazing. When I saw you come out of the cottage today I got dizzy looking at you.”

  “That’s because you were feeling sexually deprived,” she said, laughing.

  “Maybe I was, but that’s—”

  “I would have looked good to you, no matter what.”

  “Is that why I looked good to you? Because you were sexually deprived?”

  “No, that’s not why.” She grinned at him. “I was sexually deprived, too, but I can be objective. You’re a hunk.”

  “Maybe not.” He smiled back at her. “Maybe once you’ve become thoroughly satisfied by numerous sessions in bed, you’ll wake up and discover I’m uglier than Quasimodo.”

  “I don’t think so. I—oh, there’s a used bookstore! Could we stop?”

  “Sure.” He’d been wanting to stop for miles. A secluded country lane would have served him better, but if she wanted to go into a used bookstore, he could deal. Maybe she’d find a couple of rare first editions for her parents and they could bag the Mystic trip and go back to her cottage, back to her bed, back to playing Adam and Eve minus the fig leaves.

  The Book Nook was a low, rambling building with enough character to be interesting and enough peeling paint to make Alec think that business was slow. No other cars were parked outside, but the sign in the window next to the door was turned to Open. A tabby cat slept beside the sign. At first Alec thought it might not be real, but then he saw a whisker twitch.

  After spending most of Thursday and all his spare time Friday in the law library, he wasn’t particularly interested in browsing through some old books, but he could understand why a writer would want to. At this point, whatever Molly wanted, Molly would get. He hoped before too long it would be him, naked.

  She left her hat on the seat of the Blazer but brought her purse after announcing that she’d never left a used bookstore without buying at least something. “I can’t resist places like this,” she said as they approached the front door, which was slightly ajar.

  And I can’t resist you. Alec put a hand on the small of her back, guiding her through the door even though she was perfectly capable of going inside on her own. “Because of the bargains?”

  “Because of the hidden treasures,” she said over her shoulder as the bells hanging from the back of the door jingled. “And the smell of books.” Inside she took a deep breath. “Ahhh. Now that’s heaven.”

  The place smelled musty to him, but if she liked musty, maybe he’d take down a few books from the shelf and rub them behind his ears.

  An older man wearing thick glasses, a striped shirt and pants held up by red suspenders came through the doorway to the left of a battered s
ales counter. “Well, well. I was thinking I might have to close up early if nobody arrived, but here you are.”

  “Here we are,” Molly said in a voice filled with good cheer.

  The man adjusted his glasses. “I’m going to guess you’re not from this area.”

  “I live here now,” Molly said, “but I was born in California.”

  “From the way you talk, I was going to say someplace on the coast,” the man said, nodding.

  “Maybe eventually I’ll sound like a Yankee.” She gestured to Alec. “He does.”

  “I do?” Alec had never given much thought to how he sounded.

  “Definitely. Your vowels are more clipped than mine. Don’t you think I sound different from you?”

  He thought she sounded wonderful, especially when she was whispering in his ear while they were writhing on the bed together. “Well, of course you do. Your voice is softer, nicer.”

  The old guy laughed. “I have a couple of lovebirds, I see. Spring is in the air.”

  Alec glanced at Molly to see how she was taking that comment. Lovebirds sounded like more than a temporary arrangement. He discovered her looking right back at him, as if that label didn’t bother her a bit. His heart beat faster.

  “I’ll leave you two alone to browse,” the man said. “My name’s George, so if you need anything, just call out. I’ll be in the back room watching Matlock.”

  Molly blinked in surprise. “But you have all these…” Then she paused, as if maybe she shouldn’t be commenting on his choice of leisure activities.

  “Books?” he finished with a chuckle. “Oh, I read those in the evenings, after I close. I can’t read while the store’s open because I get so involved in the story, I wouldn’t hear the customers come in.”

  “Oh.” Molly nodded in understanding. “That makes perfect sense.”

  The whole conversation left Alec in the dust. He’d never been that caught up in a book, but then he’d never had time to read for pleasure, either. He wondered if maybe he’d been missing something.

  George started to leave, but then he turned back. “By the way, with you being from California, you might be a Dana Kyle fan. I just got two copies of her latest. They’re on the far wall, in the display rack. If you haven’t read it, I’d recommend you pick it up. She gets better and better.”

  “Uh, thanks. I have read it.”

  Alec was surprised at the change in Molly. It was subtle, and anyone who wasn’t as tuned in as he was might have missed it. But she was no longer relaxed.

  “Don’t you think it was her best one so far?”

  “Maybe. Maybe so.” Her jaw tensed slightly.

  The old guy smiled. “You don’t sound like a rabid fan. I’m a rabid fan. I buy her new in hardback, and believe me, I don’t do that often. Anyway, I’ve talked enough. Go prowl around and see what you can find that you can’t live without.”

  “Thanks,” Molly said.

  Then, to Alec’s astonishment, she wandered over to the display rack on the far wall and picked up the Dana Kyle book she’d already read. Alec walked over to stand beside her. There had to be a personal connection to make Molly act this way. He figured she must have history with Dana Kyle, who was, after all, from the world of Hollywood.

  “I take it you don’t like her?” he asked.

  “No, I do, actually. She’s a good person.”

  “Then you must not like her books.”

  Molly glanced up at him, the book open in her hand. “Why would you think that?”

  “No enthusiasm. When you like something, you show it. I should know.”

  She gazed at him, her green eyes holding back secrets. “I like her books. I just wouldn’t say I loved them.”

  “I wouldn’t say so, either. In fact, I can’t imagine why you would read them, considering how lukewarm you seem to be.”

  “Let’s just say I have a certain obligation.”

  “So she is a personal friend.” He felt the distance between them looming larger. First he’d discovered that she was the daughter of a world-famous director, and now he was learning that she was close friends with a well-known actress who was also a bestselling author.

  “Yes, she is.”

  “Then couldn’t she help you break into publishing?” The minute he said it, he could tell from her expression that he’d stepped over the line. “Sorry. That is none of my business. I have no idea what goes on in Hollywood, and you know very well how everything works. I shouldn’t—”

  “Alec.” She put her hand on his arm and spoke gently, almost pleadingly. “It was a logical question to ask. I just can’t answer it, okay?”

  He looked into her eyes and thought what a fool he’d been to think they would ever be more to each other than bed partners. Even that would run its course soon, and then they’d never see each other again. She might have told him a few things about her life, but she wasn’t about to let him in on everything. He’d only be allowed so close and no closer.

  She put the book back and took him by the hand. “Don’t let this come between us,” she said, tugging him between the shelves, away from the sounds of George’s television. “Don’t let this spoil our time together.”

  He didn’t want that, either. He wanted to be the kind of guy who lived for the moment and let tomorrow take care of itself. That was how they’d begun this caper, and that’s how they should continue it.

  Unfortunately, he was falling in love with her, which naturally led to thoughts of tomorrow, and of…well…forever. He wasn’t sure if he could block out those thoughts and concentrate on the excellent sex they could enjoy right now. But he would try.

  He smiled at her and let her lead him around the corner until they were surrounded by rows of old books. “Now, that would be dumb of me, wouldn’t it? To pass up a great day of fun and games because I had to know everything about you first?”

  She looked uncertain. “I wish I could tell you more, but—”

  “Forget about it.” He changed the dynamic, tugging her toward him instead of allowing himself to be pulled along. They were far enough into the bowels of this store that George wouldn’t be able to see or hear them. “Kiss me, Molly.”

  Immediately she looked less worried and more devilish. “You want to make out in the bookstore?”

  He drew her closer and locked his hands behind her back. “I want to make out anywhere I can get away with it. And you said you loved the way these old books smelled. I thought maybe it got you hot, being back here, surrounded by them.”

  “You get me hot.” She wiggled against him, nudging his erection. Then she wrapped her arms around his neck and stood on tiptoe. “Come here, you.”

  Being an obliging guy, he leaned down and let her mouth connect with his. Mmm. Much more of this and he might get hooked on the scent of old books, himself.

  He’d been without the taste of Molly for too many hours, and he couldn’t seem to get enough of kissing her. God, how he ached. Breathing hard, he cupped her bottom and brought her in as close as he could, considering they were both wearing way too many clothes.

  As he began to think they’d better vacate the premises and look for a lonely country road, she slipped her hand between them and neatly pulled down his zipper.

  Omigod. Reaction sizzled through him as he lifted his mouth from hers. “Molly?”

  “I’m going to turn you into a book lover,” she murmured, working his penis free of his briefs.

  He gasped. “Listen, old George could—”

  Her breath was warm, her breathing as ragged as his. “I checked my watch when he went back there,” she said as she continued to fondle him. “The show’s on for another fifteen minutes.” She slid slowly to her knees. “And this won’t take that long.”

  He should stop her. He really should stop her. But he wasn’t going to. Instead, he was going to stand there shaking, threading his fingers through her silky hair and inhaling the scent of old books while she…oh, damn, she had that tongue thing down perfectly,
and the suction was…good. Unbelievably, wildly…good.

  Then he was gone, lost in space as he clenched his teeth and fought to keep from yelling. Oh, geez…incredible, beyond incredible. He felt wobbly as a three-legged table by the time she tucked his still-quivering penis inside his briefs and zipped his fly.

  Sliding back up his body, she cupped his head in both hands and gave him a long, erotically flavored kiss. He held on to her for dear life, afraid if he didn’t, he might crumple to the floor.

  Her deep kiss turned into playful nibbles. “Like that?”

  A weak chuckle was all he could manage. No woman had ever tried anything remotely like this, and now he wondered how he could live without the woman who was ready and willing to play such exciting games.

  “Want to buy a few books?” she whispered.

  “I want…to buy the whole…damn store.”

  “I don’t think George would sell.” She trailed kisses over his chin and down his throat. “He loves it here.”

  “Me, too.”

  Laughing softly, she stood on tiptoe again and kissed him on the nose. “Now we really do have to buy some books. Will you be okay if I let go of you?”

  He opened his eyes and took a deep breath. “I think so. I have to say, this place smells terrific.”

  “Told you.” She gave him a final kiss on the mouth and stepped away from him. “Start shopping.”

  “Right.” He turned toward the nearest shelf and began pulling down dusty books.

  She glanced over at him, a book in her hand, and smiled. “You might want to pick things you’ll actually read. Unless you have a fondness for that particular part of Britannica.”

  I have a particular fondness for you. He glanced down at the books he held, and sure enough he’d pulled out the middle three volumes from a complete set of encyclopedias. He put them back.

  “So what have you got?” he asked, walking over to her on legs still rubbery from the orgasm she’d given him.