Malibu Betrayals

by M. K. Meredith

  Sam gasped for breath.

  Gage leveraged her weight against the wall and thrust his hands into her hair. He ravaged her mouth, leaving her ability to think nonexistent.

  Frantic to touch him, Sam tore at his shirt and sank deeper into the kiss. Her stomach fluttered, and pressure grew between her legs. The buckle of his belt pressed into her sensitive flesh, and she pressed into him, trying to increase the sensation.

  Gage pulled away just enough to slide his hand between their bodies. She moaned, “Don’t stop.”

  “Never.”

  Sam pushed his hands away; he gave a low growl. She released his belt, shoving his pants past his hips, and then closing any distance between them. The length of him, hard and hot, pulsed against her folds. She was ready and in control, the feeling heady, giving her a new kind of power and strength. She flexed her fingers in his hair, tugging at him. “Gage, now.”

  He held her, leveraging the weight of her with his hips and bracing her against the wall as he rolled on a condom. She ran her fingers up and down his arms as he finished.

  “Look at me.” His fingers flexed into her skin, his arms trembling.

  She obeyed his husky demand, holding his gaze with a lift of her chin and got lost in the intensity of his green eyes, as he pushed in. “It’s you and me, Sam.” The intimacy of eye contact as he entered her body sent her senses spiraling. Stars exploded, and her periphery went black, but she held his gaze.

  Gage thrust into her hot and fast, his body surrounding her in a way that claimed an open invitation. Clinging to his shoulders, she pressed down against his pubic bone. She rubbed, desperate to relieve the pressure building deep inside. She held on tight, running her lips along his jaw and down his neck.

  Without pause, he pulled from her heat and then thrust back. Again. And again. Gage slid a hand between their bodies and pressed his thumb against her most sensitive part in slow rhythmic circles. He chose her; he’d choose her. She knew the truth of his words as he loved her with his body.

  Sam went blind with need, nothing but the bright sparks of pleasure and crashing, convulsing, waves penetrated the pleasure focused center of her mind. Sensation rolled through her. Over her.

  She pressed. He pulled. She squeezed. He thrust. Wet skin smacked with purpose. A deliberate sharing of hard pleasure and sweet pain. Once again flowing into a partnership, they moved as a team, effortless, seamless. Giving all of themselves so the other might rise higher, and the effort was returned tenfold. Sam was in awe. The sensation of being one so great, tears burned the back of her lids. Oh, how she loved this man.

  His own groan of release joined hers, and he gripped her hips, digging his fingers deep. Their frenzied movements slowed until he sagged into her, and they slid down the wall, limp and sated.

  Gage’s low rumble barely audible over their gasping breaths. “I love you.”

  Sam melted into the floor, welcoming his weight, and keeping her arms wrapped around him. “I love you, too.”

  She always thought she knew what love was, but she hadn’t, not really. There was an extraordinary sense of wonder to be chosen by someone, a recognition, an acceptance, of being forever changed from inside the heart out.

  …

  Gage stretched, muscles aching, and a satisfied smile curving his lips. Totally worth it.

  Sam lay on her side with her back to him. Carefully, so he didn’t wake her, he slid closer to her warmth—her radiating, musky warmth of sleep. His chest met her silky skin, and she rolled back into him with a sigh. Waking to this would never get old. Every time they were together surprised him with its intensity, the depth to which she grabbed him. It was the difference of having sex and making love, and he never wanted to go back.

  The first golden glow of morning tiptoed through the window sheers and cast the room in a sheen of copper. The hum of the fan the only break of silence. Ferns fell in a waterfall of green from the corners of the room, lending a feel of paradise even if they weren’t already in the lap of luxury. He owed Martin for this one.

  Sam peered over her shoulder through her lashes.

  “Good morning.” His whisper was barely audible.

  She sighed again and turned to face him. Snuggling in, she mumbled against his chest, “Good morning. I’m so hungry.”

  He chuckled, and joy allowed room for nothing else in his heart. “You should be.” Sam had surprised him, taking charge, telling him what she wanted. He couldn’t help but feel they were headed in the right direction. She needed time, and he wanted to give it to her.

  “Yep, so feed me.”

  “But you’re so warm.” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in closer.

  “You are, too.” She released a contented hum. “But I’m starving.”

  Rolling onto his back and pulling Sam onto his chest, Gage reached out toward the bedside table, grappling around until he closed his hand over the hotel phone.

  A short time later a knock sounded from the main door. Gage grabbed a thick robe, then shoved his arms into it and tied it at the waist. Minutes later, he returned to find Sam propped up in bed. He wheeled a cart laden with fresh fruit, sweet cream, an assortment of pastries, scrambled eggs, avocado and tomato slices, and smoked salmon. Coffee and orange juice topped it off.

  Sam clapped her hands together and rubbed, practically salivating. “Perfect.”

  He pushed the cart against the side of the bed with a grin, and Sam scooted closer. She pulled the sheet over her breasts and tucked it under her arms, sitting with her legs crisscrossed in front of the cart. Gage joined her and looked around. “This kind of place is perfect for us. There’s no paparazzi, on the inside at least, since they cater mostly to celebrities. We all have our starry-eyed moments, I mean come on, Al Pacino is Al Pacino, but we’re less rude.”

  Sam mumbled her agreement through a pastry.

  “This is just one of the things we can do to protect what we have, Sam.”

  Swallowing, Sam studied him. “This place is great, but we can’t do this all the time. We have to be able to live, Gage.”

  “And we will.”

  She drank half of her orange juice and then set her glass down. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what I need for this to work, and I think one of the things that makes me nervous is the time apart.” Her phone buzzed. She glanced at it and then set it aside.

  “I can understand that. I know my next film will be on location in Australia for two months, but you can go with me.”

  Her smile froze on her face. “I can’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  “I have my work. This film is my jump back into the arena. I can’t just disappear for two months.”

  He lifted his hands in the air and then dropped them back to his sides. “When I transition more to director, I’ll be able to stay close to home more if I choose, but I need some time to make that happen. You asked me once to give you time. I’m asking you to do the same.”

  She pulled in a deep breath and released it with a smile. “Time.”

  “Look, it won’t be perfect at first. But give us time to figure things out, and then later we can make the rules. Agree to never travel without each other, and if there’s an international location, we’ll go together. We make a good team on set, Sam. Our relationship will be no exception. We just need to build up to that within our careers.”

  She tilted her head. “My career, which is why I can’t go with you. You career is pretty much there. You get to pick the roles you’re in.”

  He pressed a firm kiss to her mouth. “I can’t pass this one up. It is a leading role, and I’m hoping it will allow me to start transitioning while at my peak.”

  “I’m not asking you to give it up.”

  He breathed her in, flexing his fingers with the hope he’d never have to stop. One more kiss on her mouth, and he looked her in the eye. He might not have all the answers right now, but he’d find them. “We can do this.”

  She nodded, but the look on her
face wasn’t very convincing. Tension clamped down on his shoulders with each tick tock of the clock.

  They ate their fill, drank the coffee, everything casual and light-hearted, until Sam’s phone buzzed. She glanced at it and then tossed it back to the bed. With a nonchalance to her voice that immediately set him on edge, she brought up Cecilia Lombardi. “Why do you still care so much?”

  Gage studied her, the familiar knot heavy in his gut, competing with his breakfast for room. Pushing away from the almost empty cart, he settled back against his pillows.

  Sam cradled a cup of coffee and shifted to face him, her head tilted, quiet, and waiting. Her phone buzzed again. She hesitated and then picked it up. With a sigh, she tossed it back down to her bed.

  “What’s going on?”

  She bit her lip. “I didn’t want to bother you with it, but Cecilia keeps texting me.”

  “What? Let me see that.”

  She tossed him her phone. He gritted his teeth as he read text after text for Sam to call, for them to meet again, followed by more bullshit. “Son of a bitch.”

  His mouth dry, he reached for a glass of orange juice and with two long swallows, he emptied the glass and returned it to the tray. “This is why I care. I’ve made my mistakes.” He tilted his head. “I want to make sure I learn from them, make sure I don’t repeat them with my own kids.”

  “You’d never let that happen.”

  Her vote of confidence made him grin. “You’re right, I won’t. And I won’t make the same mistakes with you, either, but I need you to trust me. You need to tell me things like this.” He pointed to her cell. “Team, remember?”

  She nodded. “I should have told you right away.” She watched him. “Thank you for caring so much.”

  He gave the cart a slight shove aside and dropped his feet over the edge of the bed to the floor. Turning back to her, he grabbed her hand. “Come on. Enough of Ms. Lombardi. Let’s go have some fun.” He’d take care of his mother later.

  He made quick work of the window shades, flooding the room with light. “What should we do first?”

  Sam studied him for a second longer and then pressed her lips together, looking toward the ceiling. “I’m dying to meet a celebrity.”

  Gage stared at her a beat, then lunged. He grabbed her about the waist, swung her up and around with a growl before lowering her to her feet, her body sliding along his length. Her squeal echoed in the room. He bit her earlobe. “I’ll show you a celebrity, you brat.”

  She laughed and it soothed him.

  He wanted more of this Sam. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he grabbed her hand. “We’re going to need to trust each other, Sam. One of the things I can do is make sure you know the actors I’m working with, let you know where I’ll be, and when shooting runs late.”

  She stood in front of him. “And me, what do you need from me?”

  “Promise to always hear me out. Don’t run.”

  Nodding, she bent over and pressed a kiss to his mouth. “I can do that.”

  He pushed up from the bed and then pushed her dark hair back over her shoulder. “It’s simple really. We just need to choose each other.”

  His phone rang, breaking the moment. “Get ready, we’ll go see what’s going on down in the lobby.”

  Moments later, she breezed into the room. Tan, glistening—youthful. She was healing and it warmed him. A cobalt blue sundress hugged her delicious form in all the right places. His mouth watered. Nude, strappy wedges brought her almost up to his height. He stood and found her at the perfect level to lean in for a taste of her lips. So he did. “Ready?”

  She spoke against his mouth. “I was, but now—”

  Her lips slid against his own, and the length of him immediately hardened. “We better get out of here before I change my mind.”

  “Maybe I’ll change mine.”

  He smiled and slapped her ass. “Let’s go find my girlfriend a celebrity to meet.”

  Sam stilled, and Gage shoved his hands in his pockets, watching her. She tilted her head to the side. “Girlfriend.” She said the word as if tasting it for the first time. A smile pulled up the corners of her mouth. “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve been someone’s girlfriend?”

  His shoulders relaxed, and he put out his hand. She slid hers in his without hesitation, and he swore if even one idiot hit on her, he’d hit him.

  They made their way down to the main lobby and mingled with the other guests, stopping for a chat here, an exchange of information there. Having taken their time, it was now past noon, and many guests trickled out to the pools and the bar.

  A string of well wishes followed them as they wound their way out to the patio.

  “Gage Cutler.”

  “Man, how’s it going?”

  “I love you in When the Tide Turns.” A beautiful blonde wrapped herself around Gage’s waist. He slid his hand between them and brought it out with hers firmly in his grasp. “Thank you.” Smiling, he released her hand and kept moving.

  “Nicely done.” Sam slid her arm through his, and he couldn’t help the little flicker of hope that it had something to do with marking him as hers, even if it was somewhere deep down.

  Some were fellow actors he knew and others new friends. He pulled his shoulders back, at least an inch taller. Interested stares roved over Sam, dying to know the name of his latest paramour. He pulled her close. Let them talk. This one he’d keep.

  If he had anything to say about it, he’d continue to show her. One step at a time, one day at a time until they found a lifetime.

  Sam leaned close and whispered in his ear. “No matter what you do, Hollywood loves you.”

  A light sensation ran across his shoulders and down his arms. Relief? Anticipation?

  “Maybe.” But Hollywood was a fickle mistress, no telling how long her good mood would last, and in the end hers wasn’t the love he was fighting to keep.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The rest of their weekend away had delivered exactly what they’d needed. Time spent together without all of Hollywood’s bullshit, allowing Sam to open up and relax, and allowing Gage to show her a side that wasn’t all about work. Once they got back, she filled her schedule with meetings to set up her next project, and he’d had a meeting with his agent. For so long his schedule kept him going at all hours, day or night, but he found that momentum a little too spontaneous now. He wanted to be able to make plans with Sam, evenings in, evenings out, it didn’t matter, but it would never happen with his current schedule. His agent would tighten the reins on Gage’s availability.

  The producer of the film he’d just finished also produced his buddy’s latest flick and his after-party was in full swing. Sam had a few new scripts to go over and another she wanted to work on, so Gage let her off the hook. He imagined her back at his place, lying on the sofa with her feet propped up on the arm, computer in her lap, and a glass of wine in her hand. Maybe the fireplace was on, maybe she played a little jazz on the stereo. Either way, now he wished he was home with her.

  He pulled in a deep breath and squared his shoulders. He hated these events, but he’d promised to show. Thirty minutes and then he was out.

  He ignored the multitude of camera flashes as he walked in, his gut tight, and made a beeline for the bar. Sliding a finger under his collar, he pulled at the fabric. His throat constricted against the tailored fit of his shirt and tie.

  With a tumbler of scotch in hand, he scanned the room. A sea of Hollywood’s most beautiful mingled in a cacophony of conversations and laughter.

  Fake. Overdone. Every one of them acting.

  Tonight’s goal was simple: set up a few meetings, take a few pictures, and throw one back with his buddy. Quick and painless. Most after-parties were a lot of fun, but not when he had a better after-party option waiting for him at home. Tension strained his neck, and it was all he could do not to start pushing people out of the way every time he wanted to move. In the end, he kept his promise, made his rounds, and
reconnected with a few old acquaintances. He mentally patted himself on the back for a job well done.

  The harsh glare of a bleached blond coif caught his eye, immediately followed by a waft of heavy, overly sweet perfume. His stomach rolled. Of course she was here. After-parties of movie premiers were a great venue for networking, and his mother would be selling her wares like a streetwalker.

  The music suddenly grated, and the crowds closed in. Gage shook out his free hand and threw back the rest of his scotch. He set the empty glass down on a tray and picked up another, draining half the glass a bit fast. It wasn’t called liquid courage for nothing. He took another deep swallow. The alcohol slid down his throat with a burn, and he coughed on the fumes. No reason to waste the opportunity to persuade Cecilia to direct her efforts in another direction and leave Sam alone. He wouldn’t get into anything with her tonight. Not here with eyes and ears hunting for gossip and heartache.

  Pasting a neutral but friendly expression on his face, he moved in and out of groups of celebrities. Many stopped him for a quick word or to congratulate him on his finished film. As he approached the small group, his producer glanced up and broke into a smile. “Gage. I bragged on you all night. The film is going to be a classic.”

  Gage shook the producer’s hand. “I agree, but not because of me. It’s a great script.” He dropped his hand to his side and resisted the urge to wipe it on his slacks.

  Cecilia’s face pinched into a thinly veiled glare, her narrow lips pressed so tightly together they all but disappeared, leaving her over-lined lipstick like a halo of clown make-up. He nodded in her direction. “Ms. Lombardi.”

  She turned away and placed a hand on a bony hip pushed out so far he thought she might fall over. His heart drummed in his ears, drowning out all the other conversations. Both hate and hurt burned deep in his chest. “Can I have a quick word in private, Ms. Lombardi?”

  The producer spoke up. “I’ll go get us another drink.”

  Gage shook his head. “None for me, thanks.” Regret for what he already consumed muddied the alcohol in his gut.