by Anthology
Her shoulders slumped in seeming disappointment. “Aw, really?”
“Yes, really,” he said firmly. “Aren’t you the one who didn’t want to get caught in the backseat naked?”
“You’re right. That would take away from your night. That would be terribly selfish of me.” She started to lift away from him, but he kept her in place. “Besides, can you imagine the story that would make? ‘Declan Carter’s girlfriend discovered naked on his lap in the back of a limo.’ Talk about a scandal.”
“Yeah, well, considering no one is ever going to see you naked but me, your body will be my own personal scandal,” he said, glancing down at where their bodies were connected. “We need to get you off of me without, uh, making a mess.”
“Sounds like a challenge,” she said with a sassy grin. She was always so damn pretty right after they had sex. Her skin glowing, her face flushed and eyes sparkling. It made him feel like a king, knowing he was the one who made her look like that. “Are you up for it?”
“You know it,” he said with a grin.
Chapter Three
They appeared at the after-party hand in hand, Declan waving in greeting to the various paparazzi who were snapping photos of their arrival, the flashes from their cameras nearly blinding Reagan.
She tried to pretend it was no big deal that this was happening, arriving with her boyfriend to his movie premiere after-party, celebrating his acclaimed performance, all while having just had sex with him in the back of a limo not even ten minutes ago.
Truthfully? This entire moment was completely surreal.
Glancing down at herself, she made sure her skirt was in place and that no one was aware she’d somehow lost her panties. Well, there was no “somehow lost” about it. She knew where they went. Once she and Declan had disentangled themselves from each other, he’d needed something to—ahem—clean her with, and so he’d demanded she take her panties off. Which she’d done willingly.
Now she had to spend the rest of the evening at this party sans underwear. Knowing that her boyfriend was aware of her pantyless state wouldn’t help matters anyway. He was watching her at this very moment with a sly smile on his face.
“You look perfectly fine,” he murmured close to her ear as they entered the restaurant where the party was being held. “No one can tell I just fucked you in the back of the car but me.”
Her cheeks were hot at his words. Why did she get such a thrill when he said the word fuck? Was she really that easy? “I don’t look a mess? And my top is okay, right?” She reached for the knot at the back of her neck and found it perfectly tied. “I feel like everyone can tell.”
“Trust me, no one can tell. You look perfect,” he reassured, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. “Have I told you lately that I love you?”
“No.” She smiled, her stomach fluttering at his words, at the look in his eyes. “You haven’t.” He’d told her earlier this afternoon, but that didn’t count. She wanted to hear it again. She always wanted to hear him utter those three perfect words.
“Well, I do.” He kissed her forehead and squeezed her hand in his. “Love you.”
“I love you, too,” she murmured, tilting her head back, ready for him to deliver a kiss to her lips.
“Hello, Mr. Carter.” A woman appeared out of nowhere, dressed in a slinky black dress that fit her curves perfectly, a pleasant smile on her face. “My name is Natasha and I’ve been appointed your exclusive concierge for the evening. Care for anything special to drink?”
“Just water, thank you, Natasha.” He looked at Reagan. “Want anything, baby?”
She slowly shook her head, never taking her gaze off of Natasha. The blond-haired, blue-eyed beauty was watching her man like he was a juicy steak and she was a starving woman with a penchant for red meat. Reagan didn’t like it.
At all.
Natasha’s lips were a deep crimson and they curled into a predatory smile. “Are you sure? We have plenty of top-shelf drinks available, as well as any other…party favors you might prefer.”
“No thanks,” Declan said firmly, his expression stern. Yep, Natasha just said the wrong thing. “I’m not a big fan of other party favors any longer.”
Natasha’s mouth turned downward. “What a shame. Please let me know if you have any other needs.” She let the heavily emphasized word linger in the air for a moment before she turned and strode away, her heels clicking loudly on the tiled floor, her hips swishing to and fro.
Ugh. Talk about obvious. Reagan couldn’t stand her.
“Don’t look like that, baby,” Declan said, slipping his arm around Reagan’s waist as he led her deeper into the restaurant. “She’s jealous of you. Don’t let her get to you.”
“She would’ve jumped you right where you stood if I wasn’t with you,” Reagan muttered.
“Only because she’s a wannabe actress who’s dying for her first big chance. I bet she hoped she could give me a blowjob in return for an appointment with my agent,” Declan said nonchalantly.
Reagan stopped and turned to face him. “Are you serious? Has that happened before?” She wasn’t naïve—she’d heard her fair share of scandalous Hollywood stories, especially since she started dating Declan, but still. It kind of blew her mind, the things she discovered.
He shrugged. “Sure. Long ago, I might’ve even encouraged it. I also might’ve given a girl’s name to my agent or current director a time or two. Whoever she asked me to give it to, I was willing. Nothing usually came of it, though. I scored a blowjob and they scored…nothing.”
“That’s awful,” Reagan said, her voice small. She felt bad for those girls, giving away blowjobs in the hopes they’d get an acting job. She’d heard about the casting couch. She also knew groupies and crazed fans of celebrities would do anything to get in their pants.
She’d just had no idea her boyfriend had been so deeply involved in that sort of thing. Though she shouldn’t be surprised. He was no innocent. Over a year ago his career had hit an all-time low and he was close to being deemed an utter failure.
“I was so high I didn’t even care. I cared about no one beyond myself. Rehab made me see what an asshole I really was. The price of fame can get pretty damn costly if you don’t watch it.” He kissed her, then steered her toward the giant restaurant. The room was already filled to the brim with people, all of them turning and yelling Declan’s name when they caught sight of him.
They seemed to rush him like a tidal wave, all of them moving as one. Reagan stepped back, Declan’s arm slipping from around her waist, and he glanced over his shoulder at her just before they overtook him, their voices ringing with congratulations and accolades.
All Reagan could do was watch him get pulled into the swarm that came with his career. This was his life. And he deserved this, all of the well wishes and slaps on the back. The women gushing over his superb performance and the director steering him toward a private photographer who took a photo of them together, their wide smiles genuine.
She watched like an observer, as if she were seeing a movie come to life right before her eyes. These last months since they’d been together, she hadn’t fully witnessed what his life could really be like. He’d been laying low, working behind the scenes, redubbing parts of the movie, putting together a promotion strategy that she found utterly exhausting when he explained it to her.
Now, he was fully immersed in the limelight.
And she hoped like crazy she wasn’t going to lose him.
“You don’t fit in.”
Reagan turned to find Natasha the Wench standing next to her, a disgusted look on her otherwise pretty face. Now that she was so close, Reagan could see she had a ton of makeup on. Foundation, contouring, blush…the works. False eyelashes, a thick coat of eyeliner, an even thicker coat of lipstick—what exactly did Natasha look like under that mask?
Not that Reagan really cared, considering how rude Natasha was being.
“What did you say to me?” Reagan asked, glaring at her.
Natash
a lifted her chin with an annoying smirk. “You heard me. You don’t fit in here. I can tell you’re not the usual type Declan Carter goes for. You’re too…plain.”
If Reagan could punch her, she so would. But she refused to make a scene at Declan’s party. “I’m too plain, huh?” Reagan stepped closer to Natasha so she could murmur close to her ear. “If I’m so plain, then why am I the one he was fucking in the backseat of his limo, huh? Why am I the one he’s in love with?”
Natasha gaped at her as Reagan stepped away and started toward where Declan stood among a throng of people. She laughed to herself and shook her head. Snotty little Natasha probably thought she had her cornered, but when push came to shove, Reagan knew how to hold her own.
The incident made her realize she could worry all she wanted about losing Declan, but it was pointless. As long as she was there for him, loving him, supporting him, she wouldn’t lose him. She believed that.
She had to.
The crowd of people followed Declan everywhere he went. The faces changed, people coming and going, but all of them seemed to want the same thing—a piece of him. They wanted to talk to him, wanted to tell him how great he was, how the movie was going to be a huge hit. He nodded, smiling, offering a few words, but he was easily distracted. Usually he had no problem dealing with the hangers-on. He liked the attention.
Fine, he’d reveled in the attention back in the day. Being a hotly sought after actor in Hollywood when he was a kid in his late teens and early twenties had warped his brain. Made him believe he was untouchable. That he could do no wrong. It didn’t matter how many drugs or women he did, he firmly believed he could carry on like the asshole that he was and no one was going to stop him.
Until he very near stopped himself by losing yet another job when he showed up on set high. With no job prospects and the money running out from wasting it all on drugs, he hit rock bottom and knew he needed to make a change. So he cleaned up his act, got serious, became focused, and now had a great movie under his belt. He was feeling pretty on top of the world tonight.
But where was Reagan? He missed her. Wanted her by his side. The quick fuck in the limo on the way over to the party had been hot. He liked that about her, about their relationship. The sex could be hot and intense, a quick relief after feeling stressed, or it could be slow and sweet, romantic and filling him with overwhelming emotion. Damn, he loved her. Didn’t think it was possible he could love a woman as much as he loved Reagan.
They also shared a genuine friendship. He liked her. He valued her opinion and sought it out. He wanted her approval, wanted her laughter, wanted her smiles.
He wanted all of her, all the time.
So where the hell was she?
“Excuse me,” he murmured, cutting off the guy who was talking to him mid-sentence. He had no idea what the man had been saying, but clearly it wasn’t important. Offering the now-perplexed man a quick smile, he took off, moving through the crowd, ignoring those calling to him as he passed by.
They all wanted to tell him a bunch of bull crap. Try and sell him on a load of nonsense. Build him up with all the right words when within a few weeks—if not days—they would be tearing him down to anyone who’d listen.
Welcome to Hollywood, the land of the phonies.
Reagan wasn’t a phony. She was real. Beautiful. Sweet. With a woman’s body, who didn’t worry about what she ate. After seeing an endless stream of women who wouldn’t so much as sink their teeth into a leaf of lettuce, Reagan’s appetite was a relief.
She had her own career that gave her purpose. He admired her dedication to her job as a nurse. She wasn’t some hopeful actress looking for her big break, thank God. He’d dated too many of those. They were the worst.
The absolute worst.
He rounded a corner and finally spotted Reagan, standing alone clutching a small plate in front of her, hiding behind a wide pillar. No one else even looked in her direction, and he couldn’t understand why. Spotting her was like finding the only beam of bright light in the entire room. He was drawn to her, slowing his steps as he approached, wanting to appreciate this moment for what it was.
A few private minutes where he could gawk at Reagan unabashedly.
Within seconds she felt his gaze on her and instinctively turned in his direction, her lips curling in a secret little smile. He remembered that she wore no panties beneath her sexy-as-hell dress and his cock leapt to attention, but he mentally told it to settle down. Not here. Not now.
They could get to that later.
“Hi,” she said when he stopped directly in front of her.
“Why are you hiding back here all alone?” he asked, his gaze dropping to the skewer of meat she had clasped between her fingers. Another one lay on her tiny plate, as if waiting for him, and his stomach growled. He hadn’t bothered to eat dinner before they left for the premiere, and he was starving.
“I thought you wanted to spend some time with your friends.” She took a nibble off the skewer and his gaze tracked her every movement. “Hungry?”
For her? Always. For food? Yeah, he was. “What are you eating?”
“Teriyaki beef skewers. They’re delicious. Take one.” She held her plate out to him and he grabbed the last skewer and bit into it.
No surprise, it was delicious. “Are you having fun?” he asked after he swallowed.
“Besides the cat fight I got into with your so-called private concierge Natasha? Oh yeah, I’m having a blast,” she said sarcastically.
“What do you mean, cat fight? And private concierge?” That blonde chick with the dark lips had approached them when they first arrived, but he hadn’t seen her since. She owed him a glass of water too. After eating the salty skewer, he was thirsty. “What are you talking about, babe?”
“Oh, she tried to tell me I didn’t fit in, but I let her know that I was fitting in just fine with you in the back of your hired car, so she shut up,” Reagan explained, her expression and voice completely nonchalant.
He started to laugh, dropping his empty skewer back onto her plate. “Are you serious? You told her that?”
“I might’ve mentioned that we fucked in the back seat of the limo, yes.” She nodded and sighed. “Is this how it’s going to be for us, Declan? Catty bitches coming up to me and telling me how we don’t belong together? Because if that’s the case, I don’t know how I feel about that. I don’t want to turn into a catty bitch either.”
“Baby, I won’t let some catty bitch ever come between us.” He plucked the plate from her fingers and set it on a nearby table before he returned his attention to her. “Not that you can’t hold your own, because clearly you can, but it’s me and you, Reagan. I hope you realize that. We’re a team.”
“A newly formed team who hasn’t had to deal with the intense media scrutiny yet,” she admitted, her voice dropping, her expression full of worry.
He sighed. “You’ve been talking to Albert, haven’t you?” His agent meant well. He did. But sometimes he ran his big mouth and made Reagan feel like shit. This wasn’t the first time he’d done something like this and probably wouldn’t be the last either.
“We chatted for a while a few minutes ago.” Her gaze dimmed. “He expressed his concern that I might hold you back.”
Irritation rushed over him and he narrowed his eyes as he searched around for Albert in the crowd. “He said that to you? Seriously?”
“Yes, but I told him he was being ridiculous and he reluctantly agreed.” She grabbed hold of Declan’s arm and pulled him close to her. “He knows I’m good for you. I think he’s afraid you’re going to hurt me and he doesn't want to be the one cleaning up your messes.”
“I pay him to clean up my messes,” Declan muttered, slipping a protective arm around her waist. Damn Albert. Damn all these people here tonight making her feel less than. She was more than any of these fools in this room.
“He hasn’t had to clean up one of your messes in a long time. He likes it that way.” She pressed a kiss to
his neck, making him shiver. “He’s afraid I could turn into a mess.”
“Albert told you this?” He was going to kick his agent’s ass first thing tomorrow.
“Well, he hinted at it. He thinks you being in a serious relationship is a mistake. An unnecessary burden, especially now with your career making a complete turnaround. I again disagreed with him, but he didn’t put up much of an argument. Made me realize he’s fairly firm on that point.” She ran her hands down his chest, careful not to mess up his jacket and shirt. “You don’t think I’m a potential problem, do you?”
“Baby, the potential problem is if you would leave me because then I wouldn’t know what to do. I’d be a wreck.” He smoothed a stray hair away from her forehead, his gaze never leaving hers. “I need you by my side right now. It’s going to get chaotic. I can’t lie. I’m going to be pulled in about twenty different directions. But I want you in this with me. This is all going to unfold with the two of us together, you hear me?”
The smile that broke out on her face was dazzling, and it reassured him before she even said a word. “Loud and clear.”
A waiter appeared out of nowhere, carrying a tray of desserts. “Chocolate-covered cheesecake pop, miss?” he asked Reagan.
She took one and handed it to Declan, then took one for herself. “Thank you.”
The waiter smiled, his gaze going to Declan, and then the smile fell from his face, replaced with disbelief. “Wait a minute. Aren’t you Declan…”
“Yeah, I am,” Declan cut him off, sending him a death glare. “But I’m with my girl, so I’m requesting nicely for you to fuck off.”
The waiter stood straight, practically saluting Declan. “Yes, sir,” he said before he scurried away.
Reagan slapped Declan on the chest the moment they were alone again. “What was that for?”
“He would’ve started in about how he’d always wanted a career like mine or that he saw my first movie and I inspired him to be an actor. Some crap story like that. I’ve already heard it a million times. I’m done. I’ve heard my fair share of bullshit tonight,” Declan said right before he bit into his cake pop. A groan escaped him. “Damn, this is good, baby. Have you tried yours yet?”