“He played an accountant a few years back. He turned into a superhero though, so he wasn’t long lived in that career. But I still think it counts.”
“You’re not helping.”
“Oh yes I am. You’d have your head buried in the sand and focus on nothing but work. All the time. If it wasn’t for me intervening on your behalf. Admit it. I’m like your fairy godmother.”
Acacia smiled. “You’re better than that. And twice as huggable.”
“Damn straight. Now. You sound tired and you’ve got your work cut out for you the next two weeks if you’re going to keep your already insane workload and prep for the Radigan shoot. Take a nap. I’ll see you tomorrow at work, and if you need help cleaning up you better call me.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Love you.”
“Love you, too.” Acacia hung up and set the phone on the night stand, hesitating when she caught sight of a note she hadn’t seen until then.
She picked it up, staring at the masculine scrawl.
Two weeks.
Radigan.
Her heart fluttered in her chest and she smiled. Her excitement bubbled out as she snuggled down in the covers, catching another wave of his deliciously male scent.
Sleep. She expected it to be a long time coming, but it sucked her under almost as fast as she closed her eyes.
A prude.
He’d called her a prude.
She’d show him.
It was easier than she expected. A couple phone calls was all it took to secure her a booth to dance in that night at one of the many topless clubs in Hollywood.
She removed her coat backstage when she arrived, revealing her dark purple negligee. It barely covered her nipples and the panties were so sheer her pussy lips were clearly visible to anyone close enough to see her.
Her hair bounced with a bit of extra curl she’d added before she left her house. She slicked on bright pink lipstick before walking on stage.
Name of the color?
Do Me.
It definitely worked for her.
The screen lifted as soon as she got into place and she started dancing. The music was loud in her booth. She could feel it, not just hear it. The man outside, on the other side of the glass, stood and walked toward her. It made her smile, knowing she really had his attention. It was warm in her booth but her nipples got hard thinking about the man watching her. She got bold and squeezed her breasts, moaning as she saw the man lean closer toward her. She couldn’t get her nerve up enough to look at his face. To look into his eyes. She turned around and raised her see–through skirt, imagining his reaction. Liquid sex came to mind. That’s what she wanted him to think about.
She swore she could smell him through the glass.
Her time was up and she turned as the screen started to lower. She reached beneath her panties to touch herself and met the gaze of the man in front of her.
Radigan.
His rigid body posture and clenched fists spoke volumes.
He saw her. He knew it was her.
Oh shit. She had to leave.
Fast.
She ran out to the front desk, and scrambled to her car.
The ignition fired and she took off, trying to get to the exit before he came after her. The fact that he knew where she lived was inconsequential to her fight or flight response.
The engine roared to life and he gunned it, peeling out of the parking lot.
He followed her to her estate, and got through her gate right before it shut on him.
She stood at her door, trying to get it unlocked and get inside before he could follow her, when he climbed out of his car. She shook when he called her name.
“Stop,” he called after her.
“No,” she yelled back and finally got the door open.
“Why were you there? What were you doing?”
“That’s none of your business, now go away!” She tried closing the door in his face, but he pushed his way in, and slammed it behind him.
“What the hell were you doing there tonight?” he asked, while gripping her shoulders.
“Stop manhandling me, you big bruiser. And I could ask you the same question. Why were you there tonight?”
He pulled her close. The heat from his chest bled beneath the coat she wore to try to hide her lingerie. That was all she still had on, other than her way–too–high black stiletto heels.
“I heard you would be there tonight, but I never imagined it would be true or where I would find you. Do you know what you did to me behind that glass? God, I’ve never been harder in my life, watching you move. It was every guy’s fantasy come to life. You’re a walking wet dream, and you have no fucking clue.”
His eyes narrowed at her derisive snort, and he backed her against the wall. “What in the hell was that for?”
She looked him square in the face. “You could have any chick that catches your eye, or any fan at any convention you go to, and you think I’m a wet dream? You must be over–worked and under–paid to be so confused.”
“I’ll show you wet dream,” he mumbled, as he descended on her mouth. He didn’t ask to kiss her, he wasn’t gentle or obliging to her needs. He just took what he wanted, and stifled her surprised gasp as he used her parted lips to his advantage and speared his tongue into her mouth with the voracious appetite she had been trying to deny.
He devoured her mouth, trapping her against the wall with his thigh between her legs. His erection strained against his slacks and she’d never wanted someone more in her life. He pried his mouth from hers and licked up her neck. “You taste like honey. I want to lick every inch of you,” he confessed, fisting a handful of her hair.
He pulled the coat from around her shoulders, letting it slide to their feet. He leaned his top half off away just enough that he could see the rise and fall of her breasts, and it was an effort to breathe.
He surrounded her.
Every inch of her.
His eyes swam with desire and, after a few minutes of his kisses, her lips had swelled from his onslaught against them. He ran his thumb against her bottom lip and groaned when she sucked it into her mouth. He reached behind her with his free hand and pulled her hips closer to his, so he could rub against her. She wrapped one leg around his hips and opened her legs to give him better access to continue.
“I want you, Acacia. I want to bury myself inside that pretty pussy and never come up for air. Tell me you want me. Tell me how bad you want to come for me.”
She released his thumb from her mouth with a pop, and ran her tongue down his palm, licking his wrist.
“I’ve wanted you for so long I can’t remember a time that I didn’t ache for you.”
He held her leg behind her knee, and rubbed her so perfectly she was afraid her orgasm would come too soon. She didn’t want it to end. “Take me upstairs. Please. Don’t make me wait any longer to have you in my bed.”
He had her scooped up in less than three seconds and was nibbling on her ear, as he made his way to her staircase.
She loved how he made her feel so tiny and he took two stairs at a time while whispering in her ear.
“That outfit. Hope you’re not overly fond of it, because I’m going to rip it off as soon as we stop. I’m fucking jealous that anyone else could have seen you in it.” He kept moving and his grip tightened around her. “Your nipples got hard when you had an audience. Or because you’d been touching yourself. Hell, I almost came right then. You have no idea of your beauty.”
He set her down next to her bed, going back to kick her bedroom door shut and he locked it behind them. She waited for him stand before her and pulled his shirt loose from his pants. He pulled it over his head as she unbuckled his belt and zipper.
Acacia couldn’t wait.
She needed him.
Her hand barely brushed him and he swayed on his feet. He latched onto one of the big wooden bedposts, as she pulled his pants down to his ankles and his dick bobbed into full view. She landed on
her knees in front of him and grasped the thick muscle.
“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do, Radigan,” she pleaded, as her tongue flicked over the underneath side of the engorged head.
“I’m not going to last long if you suck my dick. I’m wound so damn tight and I’ll be damned if I’ll be able to wait another minute before I bury myself in you.”
“Gosh, I don’t know what to do then,” she asked with fake consternation, and then she just swallowed him whole.
She held his cock with both hands and lapped at him like an ice cream cone of her favorite flavor.
What was the flavor?
Radigan.
Male and musky.
Rich and decadent.
She couldn’t get enough.
He still gripped the bedpost with one hand, but his other hand wound into her hair and held her to him. She made noises. She couldn’t help it. She didn’t try to stop either, because every time one slipped out his cock twitched in her mouth.
His natural reactions were so sexy.
She got to just…be with him.
Nothing fake. Nothing but her, and she loved it.
She reached down and held his balls with one of her hands and licked his heavily veined shaft. It seemed to go on for a mile and her pussy was so needy her juices literally dripped down her leg.
“You taste completely male. You’re big too, and I like them big.”
“You have the hottest mouth I’ve ever known. Seeing your eyelids closed in pleasure and your cheeks pulling on me is so fucking hot. I want you, Acacia. I want inside that sweet pussy.”
With little recognition of how, Acacia found herself moments later lying on her back, completely naked, staring up at her ultimate fantasy. Radigan, in all of his magnificence, coming over her with an erection so hard the crown of his dick was purple from his need for release.
“Are you afraid?” he asked her, as he nudged her legs apart and settled at the entrance that was weeping for him. Begging for him to take her.
“Afraid you’ll realize who you’re with and run screaming from the room? Yes. Afraid of what we’re about to do? No. I’ve waited a long time for this. I’ve ached for you. I’ve denied myself so long, I don’t remember what it’s like to be whole. I need you, Kellan,” she admitted, as she wrapped her legs around his waist and he started pushing inside her.
“You’ve never called me that before.”
“But that’s your name.” Her breath hitched in her chest as he gained depth inside her. “Am I not supposed to call you that?”
“Sir. Call me Sir.”
Her cream wrapped around his cock, and he was fully lodged inside in mere strokes. She dug her fingernails into his shoulders, which rippled with the effort of filling her on every thrust.
“Yes Sir.”
He changed. Not physically but just as effectively. He towered over her without moving. He worked his way inside her, and not just through her pussy.
All she wanted to do was be his slut. He buried himself in her wet core faster and faster, leaning down to stare in her eyes.
“Come.”
An orgasm flashed to the top of her thighs and she opened her mouth to scream.
She jerked awake, staring around the room, frantically looking for Radigan.
A dream?
Of course it was.
Dancing for an anonymous man was one of her favorite masturbatory fantasies. The anonymity of being nothing more than a pretty body was so deliciously kinky. A nameless, faceless woman a man used to get off. Nothing more.
It was something she ached to be able to do some day, but she had to keep everything about her sex life private. She couldn’t ever risk doing something like that in real life.
So her subconscious implanted Radigan into the fantasy for her, when she was too tired to fight. She couldn’t even escape him in her sleep anymore.
He invaded the most private areas of her life…her psyche. Things she couldn’t fight against. She could do nothing but endure and hope she worked him out of her system somehow.
Pulses of delicious sensations raced to her clit, and she couldn’t tell if she’d just come or was about to.
She kicked off the covers and bent her knees, opening them wide.
Her fingers rubbed her clit, gathering wetness from her pulsating core.
She didn’t remember telling her arm to move, but she didn’t care.
All she wanted was to come.
All she needed was for him to be next to her, watching her, ordering her to touch herself.
She closed her eyes, holding her pussy lips wide with her other hand, to expose her sensitive clit.
Two lightning fast circles was all it took.
Sensation jacked her body to the side and she shook her head, loving how it was too much, but hating it because it was empty.
Her pelvis thrust, trying to find Radigan, even though she knew he wasn’t there.
Her legs moved over the sheets restlessly, making the bottoms of her feet warm from the friction.
She rolled onto her stomach, trapping her hand beneath her, between her thighs. Liquid slid along her slit, reaching her fingers, and she couldn’t help rubbing the slick fluid over her clit.
Huffing out a breath she finally stilled, relaxing against her pillow as her body twitched and shuddered.
She wanted him again.
He’d just had her that morning. Several hours was all it had been since he’d been inside her.
And she’d just come again.
It was more orgasms than she normally had in a week in the span of less than twelve hours.
She rolled back over, flipping her hair out of her face to stare at the ceiling.
His scent reached her on the next inhale.
“Mmmm…”
She closed her eyes, trying to linger in the orgasmic state he put her in, but instead she wallowed in what–ifs.
What am I going to do when he’s done with me?
Chapter Six
She’d spent the rest of the day lazing around the house, trying to get Radigan out of her system.
It hadn’t worked.
The fact that he texted her right before she went to bed made it so she couldn’t shake his lingering nearness while she slept either.
He’d checked on her.
It seemed like such a small gesture, but to her it was ginormous.
Made even more of a huge feat since her cell was unlisted. She certainly hadn’t given it to him so he must have gone through quite a bit to find it.
Jackie probably, but even that would have taken some doing.
She’d texted him back but with only a simple, “I’m good.” But she’d wanted to send him more. She wanted to talk to him about her dream, and his scent and how she shivered reading his text and all of the insanely stupid little things that made her feel like a lovesick teenager.
And she’d wanted to send him bad pictures. Sexy pictures.
Sexting. At her age. Was that even legal in the state of California?
So she didn’t do any of it. She didn’t reply to him again. Not even when he said he was thinking about her. And thinking about doing very, very dirty things to her.
She turned off her phone and left it in her purse in the kitchen so the chime didn’t notify her of his texts. Pavlov’s dogs had nothing on her reaction to that chime.
She’d spent most of the night dreaming of him, lusting after him, wanting to call him and talk to him, just because she could.
But she didn’t.
Getting sucked into needing him even more wasn’t smart.
Waking up giddy the next morning, knowing it was one day closer to seeing him, was downright stupid.
She got ready a little later than normal, but she didn’t freak out. She had lots of people that could cover for her if she was a tiny bit late.
Twenty minutes seemed like she took off a week and she smiled at her absurdity. She grabbed her purse and turned the phone on.
G
ood lord.
She’d missed four calls from Radigan and half a dozen from Jackie, several others from numbers not saved in her system.
Gotta love auto dialing telemarketers.
She’d been getting them for days.
She hovered her thumb above the call button for Radigan.
Placing a call to Jackie would have been the smart thing to do. She could tell her she was going to be late. Ask her what was happening on that fine and fabulous Monday.
She headed to the garage to grab her car and pushed the button to call Radigan.
Excitement pulsed through her veins as it tried to connect.
“Beebooboo,” sounded in her ear so she looked at the screen. No signal. “Damn.”
She backed out of her garage and to her surprise, rain pelted the roof of her car.
“Sheesh. Like Noah’s in town.”
She hung up the phone, tossed it into her purse, flipped lights and windshield wipers on.
The gate opened before her, and several paparazzi were standing there, wearing rain slickers, snapping pictures of her left and right.
Thankfully she still had on sunglasses so they couldn’t see her roll her eyes. “Slow news day boys?” she wanted to ask.
Her life was utterly boring.
Her smile stretched her lips and she guffawed, wondering what they’d do if they knew what she’d been up to two nights before.
Shaking her head, she turned on the radio and hummed along until she pulled into the offices of Fame.
The lot was filled with cars. Overfilled. She pulled under the awning, breathing a sigh of relief to be out of the rain, and slammed on the brakes.
Photographers swarmed the car, flash bulbs going off in her face, mumbled questions were thrown at her left and right, and since they all spoke at once she couldn’t hear any of them.
Someone opened her door and she eeked, ready to punch them as she threw the car into park.
“I’ll help you inside, Ms. Blair.” Acacia blinked at the man blocking the paparazzi from crawling into the car with her.
“John?”
“Yes, Ma’am. Grab your purse. I’ll get you through.”
She did what he said, completely lost in the chaos.
He got her out, slammed the door and then pushed his way through the crowd.
Brought to His Knees-Tough Guys Laid Low By Love Page 60