Summer’s powerful gaze landed directly on her, demanding her attention.
A surge of guilt, ridiculous and unreasonable, simmered beneath the surface of her skin. The pounding of her heart, almost painful in its beat. He held the piercing stare for what felt like eternity before cutting to the male companion at her side. Though his face showed no emotion, his jaw stretched taut and rigid, bolding the cleft in his chin.
Carrie Ann squirmed in her seat. Without being able to stop herself, she inched away from Jason’s side.
A quick mental assessment of her own bizarre reaction fired off an internal round of head-strong tenacity. Irritation capsized. Gathering her defenses with several deep breaths, she turned to Jason showering him with a reserved smile.
As darkness lowered over the theater, Summer faced the screen leaving her to endure two of the longest hours of her life.
*
A list of Who’s Who filled the trendy restaurant which opened exclusively for the after party. Dinner tables were replaced with smaller bar-like high tables, covered in fine white linens and candles, giving the restaurant a more intimate party vibe. Men dressed in formal wear blended with a mixology of women’s colorful gowns and dresses making for an exquisite palate for the evening. Sparkly jewels nestled between vast amounts of enhanced cleavage, and a copious amount of free-flowing alcohol, made for a plethora of sightseeing. And not the kind you’d find on your average tour of Hollywood Boulevard.
“What would you like to drink?” Jason asked.
To drink or not to drink? That was the question. Lord knows she needed a dose of pink cure all, but she wanted to keep her wits about her. Carrie Ann tried to make an excuse for an early exit, but Tommy wasn’t having it, encouraging her and Jason to join them at the private after party. Jason rubbed elbows with LA’s wealthiest on a daily basis, yet Carrie Ann thought she might have to wipe the drool from his chin when Tommy Clemmins insisted they share his limo. She giggled to herself practically hearing the cha ching of dollar signs roll through Jason’s eyes like a Vegas slot machine at the mere possibility of assisting Tommy Clemmins with any real estate needs.
“I would love a water.”
“Water?” A hint of shock crossed his face. Judging by the quirk of Shayla’s brow, she was just as surprised. “Anything else?”
“No thanks, just water, please. I have to work tomorrow. The next few days will be brutal.”
Jason turned from the table, leaving her standing amid a small group including Shayla and John, Tommy and Tess, and a revolving door of people patting Tommy on the back for the near God-like production of The best film they’d ever seen in their lives. Carrie Ann loved the movie and the film’s merit would certainly make its mark on several award nomination lists, however, the well-rehearsed congratulations and felicitations bordered on some major ass-kissing.
JC called out to Jason as he made his way toward the crowded bar, “Can you make that two waters?” She waved before hiding a yawn in the palm of her hand.
A set of broad shoulders made their way through the horde of people. Reed approached with a chair. “Here you go, darlin’. I’ll get you a water. You want me to get you something to eat?” he asked sweetly, bending closer to inspect her face as if she were a young child or an elderly woman.
The muscles in Carrie Ann’s face slowly softened watching the tender exchange in awe. Reed placed a kiss near JC’s temple and rubbed a small circle over her flat tummy before catching up with Jason.
Her mouth popped open in recollection. “Are you…” Her question cut short gesturing a hand roll in the direction of JC’s mid-section.
“What? Why would you ask that?” Panic saturated her tone. JC’s eyes darted from side to side checking the proximity of prying party goers.
“It’s just…” Carrie Ann moved closer, whispering, “That’s the second time I’ve seen him touch you like that.”
“Touch me like what?” She attempted to hide her beaming grin, but the joy radiating in her eyes gave her away.
Carrie Ann glanced around, making sure no one in the near vicinity was paying attention to their quiet conversation. Most were immersed in Tommy and all things Oscar talk. She covertly circled a hand over her the waist of her sequin dress.
“Shit. Please don’t say anything.” A deep shade of crimson flushed her cheeks.
“No, no. I would never. Congratulations. Does anyone else know?”
“Only family…and we’d like to keep it quiet as long as possible. Maybe Thanksgiving, depending how soon I start to show. We just found out the other day when we saw you at Tommy’s place.”
“You better tell Reed to stop rubbing your tummy like that in public. Oh my gosh, I can’t even imagine how beautiful your baby will be. You two are the most attractive couple I know.”
Another round of severe blushing.
The deep red sparked an idea. “You know, if you’re interested in announcing your new arrival—” she whispered the last few words in JC’s ear “—publicly, I’d love to have you and Reed pose together in the Bared Your Soul Calendar. The chemistry between you two is off the charts. All the proceeds go to the—”
“Hello, Red.” A deep delicious voice swept over her bare shoulder.
Jolting upright, she let out a squeal bumping into his muscular form. “You scared the shit out of me,” Carrie Ann blurted bringing her eyes around to meet his.
Summer stood inches to her left. Humor flicked the crease of his wide, full mouth. Her breath hitched slightly before turning erratic. Somewhere deep inside, she felt a small urge to bolt, but his amber eyes rendered her immobile. Inner chaos gathered force as intuition rebelled against logic. She struggled to catalogue the distinction between the two, reluctantly allowing herself to bathe in the fearsome pleasure of the sight of him.
“Let’s chat later.” She heard JC say faintly, beneath the blood pounding in her ears.
Carrie Ann took him in at a sideways glance, not daring to face him head on. His tan skin accentuating his white smile. She breathed in the spicy scent of him invading her senses. A tingle of awareness danced through her veins against her will.
“You brought a date to my movie premier.” He said flatly, more of a statement than question. There was no change in his expression except the humor fading from his lips.
She was slow to react. The mere brush of his fingers lingering playfully over the back of her arm made her come undone. Goosebumps chased up her spine, one vertebrae at a time, instantly prickling her exposed flesh.
“No. I mean, yes. I mean…so what, Summer?”
“I’d hoped, perhaps, you would’ve joined me this evening. Did you get the fl—“His words drifted off, golden eyes swallowed her whole, taking in every intimate nuance of her face.
Needing to detach from the intensity of his stare, Carrie Ann sought the near vicinity for assistance from Shayla…who pretended not to pay attention while drowning her wide-eyed interest behind the rim of her glass.
The touch of his fingers, light and arousing, coasting along the length of her arm captured her undivided attention. “What?” she asked unsteadily.
“My God, you look breathtaking, Red.” He stated smoothly, intimate eyes wearing a half smile, taking zero time to make her heart flutter. “Though, you always do.”
She could scarcely breathe. Her body now acting in complete treachery of good judgment, permitting her gaze to drift lower, stealing a peek at the open collar of his deep plum shirt. His throat clean shaven and golden tan. She could practically feel the hard running emotions firing off beneath his fine graphite suit jacket.
The curve of his mouth lifted as his gaze slipped to her feet. “Love the shoes.”
The comment, bursting of innuendo, snapped her out of her awestruck state of mind. Her eyes narrow. Not the shoes. Don’t even go there! Carrie Ann cocked her head, lifting her gaze to meet his. She lost the ability to string two words together, though a firm Fuck Off rang loud and clear in her head.
Summe
r dropped his view, admiring the cherry-colored polish peeking out from her blue suede Jimmy Choos. Leaning closer he murmured in a soft tender voice seemingly searching for a fond memory, “Nice choice. I do miss your Come Fuck Me Red, but my favorite is still your Eat My Pussy Pink.”
A surge of blood ripped through her veins searching claim of the farthest points. Her signature, cherry-red polish had been the inspiration for her nickname. Wrath and haste overrode every rational thought in her brain. Carrie Ann drew in a deep breath, braced herself, and spun to face him.
Head on.
Summer’s hips jutted backward, but it was too late. Carrie Ann had him right where she wanted him…by the balls.
He wasn’t breathing well.
And neither was she.
They glared at each other in a silent battle of wills, his cocksure power fading beneath the tips of her fingers.
Summer’s hand flew to his groin, seizing her wrist with long powerful fingers. His chest heaved, nostrils flared, and lips parted sucking in a rough gasp. As he exhaled, the heat of his ragged breath fanned across her temple. Gripping his manliness, her body responded involuntarily easing into him as if being caught in a riptide or gravitational pull.
Carrie Ann watched a ripple of a hard swallow slip down his throat. If it weren’t for the look of terror in his eyes as they rolled beneath the lids, she could’ve easily mistaken the strain of his neck and face for an intense climax.
A slow burn deepened in the pit of her stomach.
“Easy, Red.” Pain eminent in the guttural croak.
“Take it easy?” Her body quaked. Losing all good sense and stability, she squeezed a little tighter. “Take it easy? How ’bout you cut me some slack?”
A battle of stubborn wills ensued, neither flinching. Pressure was building, toxic and uncomfortable. She could feel the contraction of his abdomen and below shrinking in the palm of her hand.
“Carrie Ann,” he panted with a hint of pleading. A small vein throbbed above his left eye.
“The polish? That’s pushing it a little, wouldn’t you agree?” She issued the warning through gritted teeth. The rising temperature in her hand noticeable through the thin layer of his trousers.
The rich amber shade of Summer’s eyes deepened, darkening to the color of whiskey. Any words or disagreement appeared to be lodged in his throat. Tightening the imprint of his fingers around her wrist, he gave a small nod, discreetly taking inspection of their surroundings.
“Had I known that’s how you control Ryan, I might’ve actually tried that a time or two during filming.” Tommy heeded from behind.
So engrossed in anger, she’d completely ignored their situation and surroundings. Carrie Ann immediately loosened her grip on his goods. A heavy puff of air whooshed from his lungs. Summer refused to relinquish her wrist. The weight in her hand grew thick and heavy with arousal. A dangerous cocktail of irritation and desire swirled between them. The lids of his eyes dusted shut beneath his thick dark lashes. His gaze turned lazy with hunger. She could feel the blush on her cheeks begin to blister.
“Let go of me.” Brimming with embarrassment, her voice thickened.
His face hardened to stone. He nailed her with a sharp glare, before releasing her arm.
A long silence lingered.
Now acutely aware of her surroundings, and growing humiliation, Carrie Ann remained paralyzed facing Summer’s shirt front. Her reaction bordered on one of the most hasty, reckless, un-thought-through, excruciating moments of her life. Well almost. She refused to look up at him or turn around to face the music.
“Is everything okay here?” John questioned with the potency of a protective brother.
Folding her arms beneath her chest, she forced herself to turn around. Clearing the sentiment from her throat, she attempted to sound resolute, “Everything is fine.”
“Excuse us.” Summer bit coolly.
Feeling the grip of his fingers encircle her upper arm. Carrie Ann let out a tiny squeal. Her eyes bulged in surprise as he hauled her away from the table.
“Ryan?” Tommy inched toward them, caution held in his tone.
“Back off, Tommy,” Summer said through clenched teeth.
While the collective gaze of her friends teetered between them, Carrie Ann nodded indicating she could handle herself; as if she hadn’t just made that point crystal clear.
She could’ve stopped him, but went along willingly. Though she didn’t know why. He steered her through the crowd, making their way through a set of doors. She wriggled free of his grasp, but he splayed his hand across the small of her back, directing her down a long corridor and into an office.
Summer shut the door behind them, locking out the sounds of muffled voices and beats of music. Boxes of wine and liquor hid the wall behind a long desk covered in files and paperwork.
“What the hell are you doing?” She spun to face him, hands clamped to her hips.
“Me?” He let out an explosive huff.
The rhythmic sounds of their labored breathing filled the strained air between them. Layers of feelings, abandoned and painful, clawed their way toward the surface. Ancient feelings she swore she was over ten years ago.
She unloaded, spewing years of pent up emotions. “You don’t get to just step back into my life! Have you lost it? You have the nerve to think we’re going to pick up…”
“Yes, I’ve lost it.” His heated stare fixated on her bottom lip. Overhead lighting shadowed the dimple on his chin. “And I’ve decided I want it back.”
“What?” She balked, wrinkling her nose. Her chest propelled forward in defiance. “Why the hell are you looking at me like that?”
“I’m just wondering—“One brow lifted and a sexy grin deepened on one side. “—if your mouth is gonna taste as good as I remember.”
“You’re out of your mind!” She drilled her index finger to his forehead.
A long pause.
Without taking his eyes off her, Summer took two wary steps back, repositioning himself out of her reach. He leaned against the desk, half sitting on the edge. Her senses heightened witnessing something she hasn’t seen in some time, his full lips curving into a genuine heart stopping smile. An electric spasm struck low in her abdomen.
“What do you think, Red? Hmm?”
Hearing him ask the double question, her thighs tensed. Every time he followed a question with Hmm, his fingers were usually thread through her hair for one reason or another. Each recollection zipping through her mind led her back to some seriously pleasurable memories of discovery. Memories so clear, she could damn near feel the imprint of his hand in her hair.
“Do you think I’ll taste as good as you remember? Hmm?”
Muscles in her face screwed tight in annoyance.
Arrogant. Cocky. Mother. Fucker.
“One date, Red. I just want one night.”
Shaking with frustration and several other very identifiable sensations, she snapped.
“One night?” she shrieked. Waving her hand aimlessly at the desk, brash tenacity flew from her mouth, “I suppose you think I’m just going to lay back and let you fuck me right here?”
A smirk of surprise tipped his brow. Carrie Ann cringed inwardly at her crudeness. He remained calm, exuding a sureness she hadn’t seen him wear before.
“As tempting as that sounds, no Carrie Ann, that’s not what I meant. I want to take you on a date. I want talk. Dinner, wine, a walk on the beach, Broadway, New York, Paris…I don’t care what we do.” Taking quiet observation, he continued, his voice turning soft and wishful. “I want another shot, Red.”
Her mouth gaped open in dismay attempting to filter the bullshit from the truth. Catching a glimpse of hunger behind his eyes as they drifted over her lips, she snapped it shut.
“And if you’re still inclined…” He glimpsed down at the desk, curling his fingers firmly around the edge. “I’d love nothing more than to lay you back on a desk and fuck you till you make that noise—” His eyes, glassy a
nd rapt in time, rolled behind the lid. “—that sexy little groan you make.”
Carrie Ann stiffened from head to toe. Before she had time to fire back a list of coherent rhetorical remarks, a rap on the door stopped both of them in their tracks.
“Hello?” Tommy called out quietly as the door creaked open.
Entering the office, he shot Summer a look. A straight forward, cautionary look of unsaid mandatory advice. Summer met his gaze squarely. To her surprise, he acknowledged Tommy with some sort of reverent code-of-ethics. Neither man without respect.
“Press is looking for you.” Wisdom streaked his tone and his temples.
“I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Maybe it’d be a good idea if you handled this… situation somewhere else.”
“It’s okay, Tommy. We’re all done here.” Carrie Ann brushed past Summer, making for the door. He was at her back before she could finish her sentence.
“Not hardly.” The surety delivered in his low baiting tone, drew chill bumps to her flesh and molten heat to her center.
Tommy moved inconspicuously, gliding between them as they entered the hall. He’d been in the industry long enough to know better and he wasn’t about to let his star player jeopardize the evening’s event.
Weaving through the crowd, Carrie Ann’s heel-digging strides quickened to a brisk march. Nearing the table, she spotted Jason, straightening his tie…again. Taking notice of her escorts, the creases near his smiling eyes deepened, warranting question. She dragged her attention to the concerned faces flanking each side of him. Shayla looked beyond her shoulder, shooting silent daggers at Summer as they approached.
“Thank you, Jason,” Carrie Ann said, grasping the tall glass of ice water.
Jason buttoned his suit jacket, before reaching out to introducing himself. “Jason Calver. Nice to meet you. Loved the movie.”
“Ryan. Glad you enjoyed it.” His tone flat. “Great of Carrie Ann to bring a date. Do you work for the HAHF too?”
Fuck. Fuckity-fuck! This can not be happening. Her lips pressed into a thin line. The moisture from her sweaty hands fogged the tumbler. Ice sloshed over the rim bringing the cup to her lips. Conversations carried on around the table, however everyone kept one ear on the nightmare unfolding. Shayla and John seemingly waiting to join in while analyzing the discussion.
A Taste of Summer Page 5