by Melody Grace
“God, Ellie…” Dash’s voice was ragged before he dipped his head to kiss her neck. He sounded tormented, and she knew exactly what it was like to be so close to the edge, unraveling by the minute. She could feel him, hard against her, and she wriggled into him, making him groan. He bit down softly on her shoulder as his hands trailed lower, over her stomach, and lower still.
There.
His fingers slid softly between her thighs, and she couldn’t hold back anymore. Ellie twisted her head, finding his mouth, kissing him desperately as his fingers slid over her, delving deeper, circling with an insistent rhythm she could feel in every cell of her body.
“Dash,” she gasped, begging.
Suddenly, he spun her body so she was facing him now, back against the wall. She opened her eyes to find him watching her, his eyes fixed on her face, and God, it was so sexy she forgot how to breathe. “Please,” she gasped.
He circled, so soft. A teasing smile on his lips.
“Dash!”
He leaned in, so his lips were barely grazing hers. “What’s the magic word?”
Ellie clenched her jaw. “Now?”
He chuckled, shaking his head.
She softened. “More?”
Dash stroked deeper, delving inside.
Ellie moaned, her head falling back, but it wasn’t not enough, nowhere near enough. She couldn’t play this game any longer, she needed him too much.
“Please, Dash.” she begged at last. “Please.”
“Good girl.”
Dash touched her just right, God, right there, and she cried out, the sound lost as his lips descended to claim her mouth, his tongue invading with the same deep thrust of his fingers. She was overwhelmed, lost to the incredible friction of his touch, his mouth, him. The fire roared through her system, suddenly exploding in a rush of pleasure that shattered through her and left her gasping in his arms.
That was incredible.
She wanted more.
8
Dash had seen beauty. As a director, it was what he did: searched out the perfect shot, the best lighting to frame the moment up there on screen. That split second when the image right in front of you told a thousand stories, conveyed more emotion and passion than words ever could alone.
But he’d never seen anything as stunning as the sight of Ellie’s face as she came undone. The light, dazzling in her eyes, the flush of her skin, and the slow aching part of her perfect lips as she exhaled a silent cry of ecstasy.
He wanted to capture it, frame it. Burn it into his memory for the rest of his life—and make her look at him that way all over again.
Right now.
He shut off the water and gently guided her from the shower. Dash wrapped them both in fluffy towels as Ellie seemed to surface back to reality. She gave him a breathless smile.
“Hi.”
“Hi,” Dash echoed, dropping a kiss on her lips. He was so turned around—and turned on—he couldn’t think straight. “Bedroom?”
“That way.” Ellie led him down the hallway to her room, shutting the door behind them. Right away, he peeled her towel off again, revealing that gorgeous expanse of smooth, damp skin. God, he could lose himself in her and never come up for air.
Ellie reached for him, smoothing her hands over his chest. She leaned closer, a teasing smile on her face. “Your turn,” she whispered, pushing him down on the bed and sinking to her knees.
Dear Lord.
Dash didn’t know what he did to deserve this, but as Ellie’s gorgeous mouth slid over him, the last coherent thought he could muster was, thank you. Whatever twist of fate led him to this woman, it was a goddamn miracle.
And what she was doing with her tongue…
He groaned, falling back against the pillows. The world disappeared, contracting to just that room, that moment, and the slow slide of her mouth, teasing him to breaking point. Dash tangled his fingers in her hair, finding the maddening rhythm and holding on for dear life. Dan, she was incredible, but there was no way he wanted this to end, not until he had her crying out his name.
He pulled her away, gasping.
Ellie gave him a mischievous smirk. “Can’t stand the heat?” she teased. She retrieved a condom from her top dresser drawer then came to straddle him on the bed, carefully tearing open the packet and sheathing him in one swift seductive motion. Dash kissed her, hard, as her grip lingered. She nipped his lower lip.
“God, I want you,” she breathed, the most perfect words he had ever heard.
Dash leaned in and kissed her, but just as her body moved to meet him, he pulled away.
“Not so fast, sweetheart. I’m just getting started,” he told her, suddenly rolling her beneath him on the bed. He pinned her hands up above her head, loving the damp slide of her bare skin. Ellie squirmed beneath him, the light of desire still bright in her eyes.
He slowly kissed his way down her neck again, savoring every taste. He took his time, lavishing attention until she was squirming beneath him, gasping in breathy little pants that make him ache to have her.
Not yet.
Dash kissed lower, swirling his tongue over her ribcage and into the hollow of her bellybutton. Ellie’s stomach tensed, and he smiled against her.
That’s right. You know what’s coming.
Lower still, he make her wait, dropping gentle whispers of a kiss down over the curve of her hip and thighs. Ellie parted her legs, restless, inviting, but still Dash tormented her, licking up her inner thighs then moving away to kiss her stomach, her knees.
Ellie made a noise, part moan, part pure frustration.
He lifted his head. “How are you doing up there?”
“Just fine,” she said, but he could see the impatient clench in her jaw. “I could do this all day.”
Dash chuckled. “Excellent.”
God, she was beautiful. And even though he’d planned to tease her longer, he couldn’t hold back. He settled between her legs and licked up against her in a slow, deep stroke. Ellie gasped, and then her body was arching up against him. He lapped at her, savoring the feel of her body, every movement, every touch answered with a ripple of sensation. Faster, he couldn’t hold back, not with her moans of pleasure driving him on and her body twisting tighter, needing more.
“Please,” she was moaning. “Dash, please.”
His pulse beat like a wild drum in his ears, power surging through him as he dug his fingertips into her lush thighs and took them both higher. Deeper, faster, until she was writhing beneath him.
“Oh god,” her voice rose. “Dash!”
The pure need in her voice made him break. He couldn’t hold back anymore. He reared up, pulling her closer and burying himself deep in that sweetness with one wild thrust.
Ellie broke around him in a heartbeat, coming with a cry that was swallowed up by his kiss. Dash groaned, the heat and friction driving him so close to the edge it took everything he had not to come undone. He moved again, and this time, she moved with him.
God.
Ellie’s mouth found his, a deep, soulful kiss as her arms came around him, her hands sliding over his body, driving him on.
He couldn’t hold back; the heat was consuming them both. He surged into her, over and over, until the tension was too much, coiled and ready to be unleashed, and with a final moan, Ellie came undone again.
“Dash!”
The sound of his name on her lips took him over the edge. With a final thrust, he let go, drowning in the explosion of pleasure. It ripped through him, a tidal wave destroying everything in its path, and building him back up, a new man.
Her man.
Dash didn’t know how long he lay there, but damn, if he never moved again, he would be just fine with that.
He rolled over. Ellie was lying collapsed, half under the covers, her eyes closed and a look of sheer bliss on her face. Dash felt a surge of manly pride. He’d put that smile there—and he was going to do it a dozen more times before he left.
He leaned in and k
issed her bare shoulder. She answered in a muffled voice.
“I’m hungry.”
Dash chuckled. “This is the part where you’re supposed to be murmuring sweet nothings in my ear.”
Ellie turned her face to him. “You’re right.” She grinned, then dropped her tone to a seductive whisper. “Baby, I’m hungry.”
“Better.” He gently brushed hair from her cheek. The silky strands were tousled around her face like a halo on the pillow. “You got any food here?”
“Leftovers, in the fridge.” Ellie groaned, and half-heartedly tried to sit up. “It’s so…far…away…”
He laughed. “Is that a hint?”
She grinned and collapsed again. “You writers, you’re so perceptive.”
Dash swung his legs down and winced as his bare feet hit the cold floorboards. “What do you want?”
Ellie yawned. “Chips, and dip… And there’s some cake too, in the bread bin. Tea, ooh, and ice cream.”
He arched an eyebrow.
“What?” she protested, giving him a good-natured shove. “I worked up an appetite.”
“Yes, you did.” Memories of that work flood Dash’s brain—and rushed south too. He got up before he had second thoughts and pinned her down for another round. “You’ll need your energy back soon,” he warned her. “I’m just getting started.”
“Promises, promises.” Ellie laughed, giving him a playful spank as he reluctantly pulled on a bathrobe, and left her gorgeous and naked in her warm bed.
The things men did to provide for their woman.
Dash made his way to the kitchen and hunted down her requests. His stomach rumbled loudly, approving of the fuel break. Still, food was a necessary evil right now compared with gorging on Ellie’s delicious body. He couldn’t wait to go back and finish what they’d started—over and over again.
She drove him crazy, a desire like nothing he’d ever felt before, but it was more than that too. She was fascinating, captivating, and he would do anything to figure out what made her tick. Just like unraveling a character in one of his movies, Dash wanted to know what drove her, what excited her—and how he could make it happen and put that irresistible smile on her face every damn day for the rest of their lives.
Hold up.
He stopped his renegade thoughts from running away from him. Take it slow, figure it out, he reminded himself, but still, he couldn’t help wondering what came next. This wouldn’t just be a one-time thing, a vacation fling; there was no way that would ever be enough. Already, he could picture her in LA, soaking up the sunshine—taking off on those adventures she’d been planning so long, showing her all his favorite haunts by day, and exploring her gorgeous body every night.
Dash had never been reckless when it comes to women, but right now, he was ready to take a shot and do whatever it took to make this chance encounter something real. If there was one thing he’d learned from spending his life absorbed in other people’s stories it was this: you could sleepwalk through your entire life waiting for something more; an extraordinary moment; an undeniable connection. And if you were lucky enough to find that special something balanced on a stepladder hanging tinsel on a Christmas tree?
You grabbed hold tight, and you didn’t let go.
He put the water on to boil for tea, then assembled a tray with the rest of her requests. “You better get ready for a sugar crash,” he called ahead, maneuvering out of the kitchen. “Because this lot will wipe you out.”
He headed back towards her bedroom, but a flash of color made him turn. Ellie was in the living room, wrapped up in a massive red toweling robe. Dash changed direction and set the tray down on the table. “You got the fire started, perfect,” he said, looking forward to getting her out of that robe once it warmed up.
Ellie didn’t reply. She was sitting on the couch—and he realized she had a laptop open in her lap.
“Hey, no work, you’re officially off-duty,” Dash scolded her.
“You’re not.”
Her words were brittle and ice cold, and they stopped him in his tracks. Then he realized, it wasn’t her computer she was looking at—it was his.
“What are you talking about?”
“The camera zooms in on ALLY, twenty-two, a flame-haired siren with a secret sweetness.” Ellie’s voice was scathing. Accusing.
Dash felt a chill.
The words were familiar. He’d written them only a couple of days ago.
She was reading his script.
9
Ellie wished she could turn the clock back. To five minutes ago, when she was snuggled in bed, recovering from the best sex of her life. Or an hour, before she crossed the line with Dash and kissed him in the town square. Or, better yet, two days ago, to when he first walked into the inn and stopped her from toppling off that Christmas tree. Sure, it would have hurt like hell to hit the ground, but even a broken ankle and mild concussion would be better than the pain that was slicing through her chest as she realized what a fool she’d been.
He’d been using her all along.
“Wait.” Dash froze in the doorway, taking in the scene. “I can explain.”
But the guilty look on his face said it all.
She swallowed back the lump already in her throat. She should never have opened his laptop, but she’d been so excited to see what he’d been writing. It was right there on the coffee table, waiting to be read, and she couldn’t resist taking a peek.
That had been her first mistake.
No, her second, she corrected herself bitterly. The first was trusting him at all.
“Explain what?” Ellie tried to keep calm, but betrayal was crashing through her, the sick, empty feeling like she’d leapt off a cliff—and was plunging straight towards solid ground. “That you’ve been watching me, judging me, and all so you can use me in your script?”
Dash looked nervous as hell. “It’s not like that,” he protested. “I didn’t mean to, I just couldn’t help it. You inspired me!”
“Inspired…” she echoed in disbelief. She turned to the screen and read aloud. “Ally has big dreams, but is too scared to follow through. She likes to feel needed, and isn’t strong enough to risk leaving that comfort behind.”
The words echoed, a punch in the gut all over again. “Is that what you think of me?” Ellie asked quietly. “That I’m a coward? A needy, pathetic girl who won’t ever get it together?”
“That’s not what I meant,” Dash argued, shaking his head. “The girl in the script, she’s fiction, a character.”
It hurt so much she couldn’t stand it. Ellie closed the laptop and stood, needing to get away from that computer screen. It didn’t help. Now that she’d read the pages, she couldn’t ever un-see them.
“You just said I inspired you,” she told him, trying to get it straight. “Now she’s totally made up. So which one is it?”
He took a breath, looking conflicted. Wary. “It’s…complicated,” Dash said slowly. “You were the inspiration, yes, but then I developed her to suit the story. I took some things, and made up others…I’m sorry,” he said quickly, moving closer. “It’s only a draft, you were never meant to see it!”
“So this is my fault?” Ellie countered, folding her arms.
“No.” Dash raked a hand through his hair, and the familiarity of the gesture sent a fresh shard of pain through her chest.
She wanted to run her fingers through his hair again, to hold him close and feel his body move against her. She’d thought this was something special, something real, but she’d been wrong.
He’d never cared about her, he was just using her for his work.
And worse still, he thought she was a failure. Just a small-town girl who’d never amount to anything more. That character Ally was weak and indecisive, the things she was trying her hardest not to be. But it was like he’d taken Ellie’s worst fears and insecurities and zoomed in with devastating precision. Distilled them down into a few scathing lines like that was all that anyone needed to know
about her.
That was all she’d ever be.
It took skill to do that, real talent to reduce a person to their most secret fears. Ellie would have been impressed if her heart wasn’t busy breaking in two.
“Please, Ellie.” Dash took another step, his eyes pleading. “Can’t we just go back to before you saw that? I’ll explain about the script if you give me half a chance.”
He looked so plaintive that she almost wavered. Maybe he had an explanation. Maybe she was reading this all wrong. Hope burned even through her pain, and she was almost ready to give him that chance, when he continued. “Most people would be flattered to be a muse. You’ll see, this is a good thing. I was completely blocked before I met you, and now I can’t stop writing!”
He gave her a hopeful smile, but Ellie’s heart sank. He didn’t understand. She couldn’t believe he didn’t see what he’d done, what a betrayal this was. All he cared about was his own big Hollywood career, never mind who he was using along the way.
“You’re writing about me when I told you I didn’t want that!” she exclaimed. “Remember, we were sitting right here in this room. I said, I couldn’t imagine anything worse. But you didn’t care—not about me, not about anything except your precious script!”
There was silence. Dash looked stricken. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I really didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“And I didn’t mean to trust someone who would turn around and betray me, but here we are.”
There was a hollow ache in her chest. Now that Ellie’s anger had faded, she just felt hurt and used—like a fool.
There was a sudden noise from the kitchen—the whistle of the tea kettle. Dash moved to the door, but Ellie stopped him. “I’ll go.” She quickly turned and escaped to the kitchen.
She took the kettle off the stove and inhaled a deep breath, trying to stay calm, to think about this rationally, but she couldn’t. It felt like Dash had been studying her under some microscope, picking her apart and analyzing her most personal details for his script. Was this the whole reason for him spending time with her? Was everything that happened between them a lie?