Hollywood Scandal

by Louise Bay

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered into my ear.

  I hadn’t given him any details, but it was almost like he was saying no matter what had happened, he was in my corner. I wanted Matt to know that I trusted him.

  “When I broke up with him, he plastered pictures of me, naked, all around campus, sent them on email to the whole school. It was just … the worst thing that he could have done. It was such a violation.” I took a deep breath, which evened out my pulse. “Ruby was amazing. She tore them down and sat with me while I cried.” I paused, enjoying the heat of Matt’s arms around me. “I never went back to class. I couldn’t face it. Couldn’t see all those people who’d seen such intimate pictures of me. It was … difficult.”

  I uncrossed my arms and placed them over his as he burrowed his face into my neck. “I’m so sorry. If I ever meet the weak little asshole, I swear I’ll kill him.” He pulled me closer.

  “It was a long time ago.” Five years was a lifetime, but every now and then, like now, it didn’t feel that way.

  “But not so long ago that it doesn’t still bother you.”

  He was right. The memories of that afternoon were as fresh as ever today. As long as I boxed them up and shut them out it was fine, but even the smallest crack would have them back—bright and vivid.

  “Is that why you don’t like the city?”

  “I love Worthington. Of course, like you I dreamed of leaving but, you know, you gotta be careful what you wish for.”

  “God, Lana, I want to make it better for you,” he said, and I twisted in his lap to look up at him.

  I smoothed my palm over the rough stubble on his jaw. “Holding me like this is good.” I couldn’t remember a time since my dad died when I felt so protected.

  “Then we’ll stay here all night.”

  I laughed. “It’s not that good. I like my bed a lot.”

  “I can’t wait to see what’s so great about it.”

  I slapped him on the back of his hand. “Easy, Mr. Movie Star.”

  “Admit it. You’re counting down the minutes until you can get me naked.” He stood us up, holding me against him. “But not in public. You value your privacy. I get that now. I’m not going to put that at risk. Let’s go home.”

  I smoothed my hand over his jaw. Wasn’t he supposed to have the world at his feet? Have everything he’d ever wanted with the snap of his fingers? And yet here he was, comforting me, worrying about me. It seemed that Matt Easton was exactly what I needed in my life right in that moment.

  Thirteen

  Matt

  I checked my watch as I opened the door of the makeup trailer. I’d barely made it on time. Lana’s warm body had been almost too difficult to leave this morning.

  “Hey, Matt,” Jenny said, patting an empty chair. “You’re mine today.”

  I grinned. “Perfect.” The head artist was quick and friendly, which worked for me. I took a seat.

  “How’s it going up the coast? We haven’t seen you in Portland at all,” Jenny said.

  “Yeah, Matt,” Marie, the other makeup artist currently in the trailer, chimed in. “How come you’re not staying with the rest of us? You should join in on our fun one night.” She cocked her hip out and met my gaze in the mirror. “Maine has surprisingly good tequila.”

  “My head can testify to the good tequila,” Jenny said. “And there’s some really great seafood in some of these quaint restaurants in town.”

  “I’m trying to take it easy,” I replied. I didn’t want them to think I thought I was too good to be staying in the same place as the rest of the cast and crew.

  “You on some sort of detox or something?” Jenny tucked the paper bib into my collar.

  “Kind of.” I might have been sent to Maine, but it had given me a slice of normality that I found I enjoyed. It was a taste of home. It had been just what I’d needed. “It’s peaceful, and I’m catching up on my sleep.”

  “Doesn’t sound like the Matt Easton we know,” Marie said, wiggling her eyebrows. “So is it true that Audrey has tamed you?”

  I chuckled and closed my eyes as Jenny started wiping a sponge across my face. “Something like that.” Audrey wasn’t exactly front and center of my attention at the moment.

  My phone buzzed, and I shifted so I could take it from my back pocket. “I’ll be back in a few,” I said to Jenny and headed outside.

  “Hey, Catherine. I haven’t heard from you in a while.” Catherine and I had been friends since my modelling days in New York. She was an uncomplicated fuck who I trusted not to sell me out. She rarely called me though. I hoped nothing was wrong.

  “Hey, handsome, I’ve been thinking about you.”

  Normally, I’d reply that I’d been thinking about her too, but I hadn’t. And for some reason I didn’t want her to get the idea that I had. “What’s been keeping you busy?”

  “I just finished a shoot for Gucci, so I’m having a celebratory sandwich.”

  I laughed. “Awesome, and congratulations, of course.”

  “Thanks. I have some time off coming up and wondered if you were still in Maine. You said you might give me a call.”

  When I’d found out I was going to be on the East Coast for a few weeks, I’d called Catherine. I’d caught up with her at least once a month since I started the thing with Audrey. And I’d been planning to make the most of the fact that she was signed up to an NDA while we were only a couple of hours from each other. But weeks had gone by and I’d not been in touch. I’d not even thought about her.

  “Yeah, I’m on set right now, actually. I’m sorry I haven’t called. Filming is really demanding.”

  “If you can’t come to New York, maybe I could fly up for your next day off. I need to burn off this sandwich, and I’m pretty sure you could help me with that.”

  That was how it was between us. Casual. There were no expectations other than great sex. It was why our hookups had always worked so well. Normally, I’d jump at the chance to spend some time with her, but the thing was, I wasn’t feeling very enthusiastic. “I don’t have a day off any time soon—the schedule is totally killing me.”

  “Oh,” she said, surprised. If she didn’t believe me, she had reason not to. I had a day off in three days’ time, and I was sure that if I told her that, she’d have booked flights before we hung up.

  But I didn’t want to see her.

  The day after our trip to the dunes, Lana and I found ourselves on our respective porches, ended up enjoying the sunset, then going inside together. The next night was the same. And the night after that. In the week since the beach, I’d seen Lana every day. I’d slept in her bed each night. At the end of the day, I wanted to talk to her, hear stories about Worthington and jewelry, have her poke fun at me but know that she came like a train when I fucked her.

  Lana and I weren’t dating. It wasn’t as if we were in a relationship. We were just temporary neighbors who fucked. I could easily stay in Portland with Catherine for the weekend. I just didn’t want to. Not when I could be with Lana instead. I was into this girl and it had crept up on me.

  “I’m sorry. Maybe when we’ve wrapped?” It was a hollow suggestion. Something told me that casual hookups were off the table for me while Lana was a part of my life. I couldn’t imagine wanting someone more than I wanted Lana—to fuck, to talk to, to have fun or share ideas with. If I had a choice between someone else and Lana, Lana won every time.

  “Sure, let me know,” she said. “You know, you sound a little different. Like the Maine air is doing you good. Or maybe you met someone. Either way I’m happy for you.”

  I laughed. “You know me.” But she didn’t. Not really. But I had met someone who did. More than most people anyway. “I think I inherited George Clooney’s mantle.”

  “If you say so,” she said, though she didn’t sound convinced.

  Maybe I wasn’t such a good actor after all … maybe Lana had gotten under my skin a little more than I’d realized.

  Fourteen

 
Matt

  As I got out of the car, I went straight toward the back door of Lana’s cottage. Over the last few weeks, I’d spent less and less time at my place.

  It was almost as if we were living together. Existing in a bubble built just for the two of us. With no one watching, there was no pressure, no expectations. We just enjoyed each day as it came.

  I flipped open the screen door and called out as I opened the back door. The whir of a blow-dryer came from her bedroom and I went to track her down.

  She was sitting at her dressing table in nothing but a robe, her brush in one hand, blow-dryer in the other.

  I folded my arms and leaned against the doorframe, content to stand and enjoy the concentration on her face and the graceful way she moved.

  Next week was my last week on set, and then I was headed back to Los Angeles. I’d thought about extending my trip—it would be great to spend some uninterrupted time with Lana before I left, but I’d received my schedule for my first week back in LA this morning. There was no way I could take any time off. The promo for my film with Audrey was going to have me busier than ever.

  But I’d miss the easiness between Lana and me. The way I was able to just be me; the way Lana seemed to like who I was without the glitz and the glam of LA. I wasn’t ready to give it all up. But Lana didn’t belong in LA. I couldn’t see how she’d fit into my world outside of Maine.

  She caught my eye in the mirror and burst into a contagious smile. She turned and dropped her brush to the table. “How long have you been there?”

  I shrugged and stepped forward. “Just admiring another beautiful Worthington view.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “Hey, I was giving you a compliment.”

  “Stop objectifying me and come kiss me,” she said.

  I didn’t need to be told twice.

  She tipped her head up as I stood over her. I brushed my thumbs across her cheekbones before I dipped my head to press my lips to hers. She tasted of summer and home and all the tension from my muscles drained away as our bodies found each other.

  I pulled her up from where she was sitting.

  “I just had a shower,” she said. “It’s been so sticky today.”

  “I’m going to get you sweaty again.” I growled and bit down on her neck. “I feel like I haven’t seen you for days.” I always felt like that, as if I was constantly chasing more of her, as if I wasn’t quite done. As if there was more to discover.

  “You woke up in my bed, did wicked things to me before you left for work just this morning,” she said as she threaded her fingers through my hair.

  She was right, it had only been hours since I’d had her, but that didn’t mean I hadn’t thought about her all day, hadn’t wanted to be right here, buried in her.

  I parted her dressing gown, revealing her milky white breasts, and closed my eyes for a beat. She was so fucking perfect. I pushed the robe over her shoulders and the whole thing fell to the ground, exposing her. That body had me running back to Worthington as quickly as I could.

  I swept my hands over her waist. “Lie down,” I said, lifting my chin toward the bed.

  She backed away from me and sat on the bed. I raised my eyebrows, waiting for her to follow my command.

  “Keep your feet on the floor.”

  Slowly, she lay back, reaching her arms above her head and arching her spine. Fucking perfect.

  I stripped off my shirt and fell to my knees.

  Stroking my hands up the back of her legs, I pulled her toward me and pushed her knees wide, zeroing in on her hot, wet pussy. I’d only been in the same room with her for a few minutes. Kissed her once, the contact bordering on chaste, but I could still see her wetness, still feel her heat.

  She twisted under my inspection. “Matt,” she moaned.

  “So impatient,” I chastised. “So desperate for my tongue.”

  I pressed my palms against the inside of her thighs, my thumbs scraping against her entrance. Her hips bucked off the bed and I grinned. I loved it when she got worked up this quickly.

  I couldn’t waste a moment to taste her, so I leaned forward and lay my tongue flat against her clit before circling and pressing again.

  Her sounds turned from whimpers to moans as I delved deeper, coating my tongue in her wetness. Pulling my thumbs apart, I blew cool air against her hot entrance and she screamed. The noises she made—they weren’t faked, or what she thought I wanted to hear—just honest reactions to the things I did to her. Fuck, every noise that left those lips was a complete turn-on.

  I plunged one thumb into her as I continued to suck and press and lick. She thrust into my mouth, wanting more, needing more.

  My erection pressed against my zipper so fucking hard I thought I might burst.

  I pulled away, desperate to give my cock some freedom, stood to undress and glanced up at Lana, her hair spread across the bedspread.

  “Turn around,” I said. “I want your head here.” I pointed at the corner of the bed nearest to me.

  I kicked off my jeans as she turned.

  “I want your mouth around my dick,” I said. I wasn’t done tasting her, but my cock needed some attention.

  She reached over her head, grasped the back of my thighs and opened her mouth, ready to take me. I groaned and stepped forward.

  In so many ways she was a wholesome girl from Maine, but the things Lana Kelly did to my dick should have her marked with a warning sign.

  She took me in her mouth and sucked my crown. I swallowed hard, trying to regulate my breathing. Leaning forward, I braced my hands on either side of Lana’s legs as she took me deeper. The smell of her pussy brought me back to the moment and I pressed her thighs apart, pausing to take in the beautiful swollen flesh before devouring her.

  If this was heaven, I didn’t ever want to come back to life.

  The sensation of my cock hitting the back of her throat as I flicked my tongue over her clit and the moan that vibrated down my shaft was almost too much. She pressed her hands against the back of my thighs, trying to get me deeper into her, and I was only too happy to help. She gagged and I tried to pull away but she only sucked me in harder. This fucking woman. There was no one like her.

  Her moans around my cock grew louder as I continued to lick and suck, press and push. Every reverberation around my dick brought me closer to the edge and urged me on to soak up her wetness. There was no way I was coming alone.

  All too soon she stiffened and thrust against my mouth.

  I stilled, pressing my flattened tongue against her as I finally allowed myself to spill into her mouth.

  I panted against her pussy, my legs weakening, my body too sated to move. Holding her beneath me like that, taking me so willingly as I fucked her mouth, the trust it took—it felt as though something had burst through and taken us to a different, more intimate level.

  She wanted me. Came for me. Not the movie star. Just me. Matt. The guy who’d grown up in Indiana, the kid who’d travelled the world but never really left the Midwest. It was the biggest turn-on I could ever have imagined.

  I wasn’t ready to give it up.

  Lana

  It had been an intense welcome home. I’d caught him watching me from the doorway and he had his mouth on me in seconds. As Matt pulled the sheet up around us and I huddled into his side, I wanted him to confirm what had just passed between us had been more than sex. Trust had formed the basis of my orgasm—intimacy. I wasn’t sure I’d ever experienced that with a man.

  Over the last few weeks, we’d spent every minute he was in Worthington together, but between his hours on set and my work at the shop, it never felt as if I got enough time with him. But now things had grown from something physical into something … more.

  I just wasn’t sure what that more was.

  Whatever it was hadn’t usurped the sex. There wasn’t much point in wearing clothes with Matt around. He liked me naked and the feeling was mutual.

  He swept his hand up my body, his finge
rs and then his mouth finding my nipple. I groaned at the sharp pain that burst into pleasure as he squeezed and then bit. Somehow he seemed to know exactly how hard I liked his teeth, how deep I wanted his bite. I swiveled my hips and he stilled me, his fingers pushing into me immediately.

  “What’s got you so worked up?” I asked, only barely able to push the words out.

  “I need to get my fill of you. I’ve missed you today.”

  I sucked in a breath as he removed his fingers.

  “Turn over and look back at me,” he demanded.

  I slid onto my front, pushed up on my elbows and threw a glance over my shoulder.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

  He smoothed his hands over my ass. I knew what came next and braced myself as his palm cracked against my skin. I groaned—a sound pulled from the middle of my belly. It hurt so good.

  “Perfect,” he said, sweeping his hand over where he’d just smacked me. “And I bet you’re even wetter than you were.” His fingers tripped over my sex. “Oh yes. Very nice. Very nice indeed.”

  The bed dipped on either side of me as he straddled me and worked open a condom.

  Nights like this were perfect. He came in, desperate to fuck. There was some cursory foreplay, but what he wanted was to ram himself into me until he came. Tonight had been slightly different. But it was all good. I wanted everything.

  I slid my hands toward the headboard as he raised my hips and pressed my chest to the bed. I loved that he took exactly what he wanted from my body and that was exactly what I needed.

  He possessed me, and I let him.

  He nudged at my entrance and I took a big breath.

  He let out a groan as he pushed deeper.

  It always felt so primal like this.

  “You like that, don’t you?” he asked. “You like me telling you where to lie. How to offer yourself to me. I decide how we fuck and you love it.”

  I moaned into the mattress.

  Yes. I couldn’t get enough. I’d never had so much sex in my life, never spent the day feeling the aftereffects of fingers, teeth and cock, my only regret that I couldn’t have more than the memory.