by Piper Lawson
My heart hammered in my ears as I sank onto the scratchy fabric of the lounger cushions, lying back and blinking against the sun.
I felt like a planet ripped off its axis and hurled out into the universe.
By the time I sat up, she was watching me, satisfaction in her gaze.
I felt my cock stir again.
My fingers reached up to toy with the knot behind her neck, tugging lightly. Then harder.
The strings came down and her breasts popped out. I looked at her heaving chest. The perfect lush curves of her I wanted in my mouth—I wanted every single inch of her on my tongue.
“We should go upstairs,” she murmured, suddenly self-conscious.
“No.”
Her eyes widened.
I delighted in the conflicting desire and reluctance that crossed her face. We both knew the patio was getting fuller by the minute, could tell from the conversation, the splash of water, the distant clink of glasses beyond our hideaway.
“Come here.” I pulled her into my lap, my mouth dropping to her skin, skimming down the curve of her. Latching onto one nipple, my tongue stroking while she gasped.
My hands stroked down her sides, not hesitating for a second. My thumb skimming down the front of her bikini bottoms.
Pressing right where her clit was.
She squirmed against my hand through the fabric, and it was hot as hell the way she reacted to me.
“All those people out there…” I flipped her over onto her back. “Do they know what you’re getting?”
I swallowed her moans as I stroked her, and she writhed under my hands.
Two fingers thrust inside her and she arched off the lounger, clenching around me. “You’re so wet. You want it that bad, huh?”
Because this was what she wanted. The sweat. The need.
Someone who didn’t know anything about her. Where she’s ticklish…
I dragged the backs of my knuckles over her ribs and she hiccupped.
What turns her on…
I dragged my teeth along the shell of her ear, making her shiver.
Someone who didn’t understand her life. Her pain.
Soon I was beyond anything but the sensations we were creating, bold colors and shapes. As I built her up, she whined and arched and gasped.
“You want to come.” It wasn't a question, I could feel it in the way she tightened on my fingers.
“Lee, please.”
Those two syllables broke my control.
If she was going to come, she was sure as hell going to know I was the one making her do it.
I grabbed a condom from my pants next to the lounger. She took it from me, ripping into it with shaking hands and rolled it on.
When I slid into her, it took everything I had to swallow the groan.
My fingers grasped the top of the lounger, digging into the wood and fabric to keep from pushing the damned thing across the concrete with my thrusts. We chased the feeling we both needed, that each of us held just out of reach.
I’d started out wanting to prove a point, but with every stroke I was more wild and less able to remember why I’d started this.
Because what shocked me was how fucking good it was. When I decided to forget about the feelings and just exist in this moment, it made me delirious.
Her body was a vise around my cock, her arms holding me close as I pressed deeper inside her. Sam’s lips against my neck whispered soundlessly as the smell of chlorine in her damp hair took me over.
Instead of building her up I gave in. I chased the feeling, the madness. She was right there with me, trying to keep a toehold, a handhold, anything.
And when the world fell out from under us, I was gone.
I was gone and she was still there.
I came to, blinking down at the concrete shaded by the lounge chair. The scrap of Sam’s red bikini top was strewn on the ground like a leftover party favor.
We cleaned up, dressed, and slipped out of the cabana, taking our towels and bag upstairs with us.
The elevator ride was silent.
I swiped the key card to get us into the room and stepped back for her to go first.
“I’m going to take a shower,” she said over her shoulder as the door shut after me. I grunted my assent.
“Riley?” I lifted my head to see her hovering in the door of the bathroom. “Are you okay?”
I nodded. “Yeah.” I reached up to rub a hand over the back of my neck.
I collapsed back on the bed while she turned away. A few moments later, the sound of the shower started.
What the hell?
A woman I’d once been head over heels for wanted to blow me on a sunny day in LA, and I was acting like a school kid who’d had his lunch taken away.
Sex without feelings had never been my forte.
Most women were fine with that. More than fine.
Not that I wanted more than sex with Sam, I thought, rolling onto my side to stare at our suitcases lined up next to one another. Caring about her had screwed me up once already. For weeks and months after she’d run away from me, it was all I could think of to get back to her. To make her understand.
The day I realized it was never going to happen was homecoming in freshman year of college. I had new friends, a new school, a girl in my English class who was smart and cute and who’d been sending me flirty eyes all semester.
She wasn’t Sam, I kept thinking.
That’s when I looked around and realized… there was no Sam.
There hadn’t been for awhile.
So I’d gone out with the girl from English class for nearly six months. We’d had fun together, and done all the things freshmen do.
But all the while I couldn’t bring myself to be the same guy I’d been with Sam.
If I stayed over at her place at night, it was for sex, not to lie in bed talking.
If she touched my scars, it was to flirt, not because she knew what they meant.
And when she had a bad day—which she rarely did—I’d buy her a rose from the store near campus and leave it at her door. Not once did I stay with her, peeling back the layers until she admitted what was going on in her head.
Maybe Maria was right. I’d been rinsing and repeating for ten years. The women were different, and I treated them like queens, but no one ever left me feeling gutted when it was over.
Which was the point, wasn’t it?
Now, hearing the shower stop, I braced myself.
I’d invited Sam here for two whole days, because I wanted her here. But I wasn’t sure I was ready to deal with the swirling mess in my gut saying it wasn’t enough.
Which was a dangerous thought. We had our lives, ones we’d built deliberately—and separately—on as solid ground as we could find.
There was only one thing I could do with Sam for the next forty-eight hours, and it was the same thing I’d done with women for as long as I could remember.
Grin. Tease. Charm.
And above all, get it the fuck together.
23
Does it all disappear?
“It’s not going to happen, Riley.”
The bubble popped. “What? Why not?”
David shifted back in his chair at the conference table at Epic. “The A-list is shorter than you think. Someone like Jane Casey’s on the fast track to being a star. She needs to see herself in a role. There are advantages to casting unknowns.”
Despite all the good news David had heaped on me since the start of our meeting—that Epic had started booking some locations, was putting together the crew, had a talented director and a script they knew would be successful—it was this one disappointment I latched onto.
“It can’t be over. Just because she doesn't see herself in it.” I laughed. “Come on. She's perfect.”
I needed a win today, though I wasn’t sure why it mattered so much.
“You only get one shot with someone like Jane, even with her agent on side,” David said, returning my attention to the roo
m. “She’s not convinced an action move is the next stage in her career.”
I thought about what I knew of Jane’s background. “But that’s why she’s ideal. The story isn’t about superheroes. It’s about people. Getting burned to the ground. Rising from the ashes. We live long enough, we all have to do it. It’s why these stories get us.”
David folded his arms over his chest, his eyes narrowing. “Jane’s publicist has had her dating our Ninja star. She’s scheduled to be at the premier tonight. I could get you an introduction if you think you can change her mind.”
“Do it.” Adrenaline shot through me. Whether this was about the movie or the frustration where Sam was concerned, I knew I had to fix this or go down trying.
David had given us a magic number to call in case we wanted to wear something other than what we’d packed from home. That was why we were getting dressed at two separate boutiques. I had to admit, the black Boss suit was nice.
My limo pulled up in front of the other store where Sam was getting ready, and I tapped my fingers on my thigh while we waited.
When Sam had shown up at the airport yesterday, I’d felt like the luckiest man alive.
We’d gone to a gallery last night, eaten at a high-end seafood restaurant for dinner, split a bottle of wine and taken a limo home.
But I’d only been half there.
It was fucked. I’d invited her to LA to have a good time. Now I was the one that couldn’t keep my end of the bargain.
Because the entire time I reminded myself, it’s not real.
A flash of movement caught my eye. I lowered the window and my jaw went slack.
The confusion fell away, like fog burning off in the sun.
The black dress stopped high on her thighs, and had me thinking of her wearing less than that.
Her shoulders were bare, the satiny fabric looping around the back of her neck. Sam’s sleek hair was pinned up on one side, left to fall straight to her shoulders on the other. Her lips were painted red. Not a goth red, but bright, like the tulips in the park in spring.
I reached for the handle, pushing the door open for her. She shifted in as I made way. I drank in every part of her until her gaze finally met mine.
“Is it okay?” she asked, playing with the tie behind her neck.
“You are fucking beautiful, Sam.”
Her face flushed at the compliment. “You don’t have to say that.”
I reached for her hand, drew it to my lips before setting it on my thigh. But I didn’t let go. “Yeah, I do. Keeping it inside feels like a lie.”
The car pulled away and I cleared my throat.
“Listen. I know things have been weird this weekend. But I’m not used to someone wanting and not wanting me at the same time. I’m getting whiplash, Sam.” Her lips parted. “Is it really what you want? A distraction? Someone whose name you don’t know, whose face you don’t recognize, to lose yourself in?”
Sam shifted in her seat to face me. “It’d be easier that way. But every time you look at me, it’s like…” she screwed up her face “…I thought I needed to let loose. To get off, to forget everything. And it’s so good, Lee.” Her gaze swept down to the floor of the limo, back up, slow. Her voice had my abs clenching beneath my suit. “But I don't know if it's good because it’s easy, or if it's good because it’s you. Because somehow you know how to touch me. And because I trust you to do things I’ve never wanted to do with anyone else.”
The image of her taking me in her mouth replayed in my mind like a dirty GIF.
Jesus, this girl turned me inside out.
The limo rolled up to the front of the old-style Hollywood theater. We both straightened as the car stopped.
“We’re here,” she murmured.
I held her back as she glanced toward the door.
“Do something for me,” I said. “Before we go out there.”
“What.”
My gaze dropped to her mouth. “Kiss me. Not because I’m going to get you off, or to get me to shut up. Kiss me because you want to.”
I expected her to retreat, to push me away. But her face tilted up and after a long moment, her lips brushed mine.
I threaded my hands in the hair at the nape of her neck, careful not to pull out any pins as my mouth opened over hers.
I gave myself a moment to indulge, kissing her like I wanted to leave my mark on her. By the time I pulled back we were both breathless.
I didn’t know what it meant, but it felt like something. Something we both needed, even if we didn’t know it.
“You ready to talk to a movie star?” she murmured.
“Doesn’t hurt to try.” I grinned as I shifted out of the car first, holding out a hand for her to follow.
It was a whole other world. One I’d known existed, but somewhere I never thought I’d be. Filled with glamorous people and champagne and casual elegance that belied the blood, sweat, and tears it took to get there.
There was a red carpet and paparazzi. Then security and a doorman.
I fucking loved it.
Sam nodded her chin and I followed her gaze to find the star of Ninja surrounded by a group laughing and drinking.
We found our way to our seats shortly before the film was slated to start.
Nerves and excitement rushed through me when the screen went dark. The music grabbed me and didn’t let go.
I hadn’t counted on the difference it made watching the film with people who had a stake in it.
I was on the edge of my seat until the final credits. It was amazing. Incredible.
I was strung tighter than the string quartet playing in the foyer as we followed the stream of traffic into a cocktail reception outside.
“Riley. I’m glad you could make it. Who is this beautiful lady?” David asked smoothly, coming up beside us.
“Sam Martinez. She did the art for Phoenix.” Her hand tightened in mine, but I didn’t let her pull away.
“A talented pair. Nice to meet you, Miss Martinez. Riley is one of my new favorite people. In fact, I’d like to borrow him for a second if you don’t mind.”
“I’ll try to keep busy.” She shot me a wink before I turned to follow David through the crowd.
I hadn’t noticed the actress before but when I saw her red hair, I didn’t know how I’d missed her. She had the kind of classic beauty you would’ve expected to be dull, but it wasn’t.
She hovered next to the Ninja star, the two of them part of a tight-knit crowd of well-dressed people.
David murmured something to her and she followed him over to me.
“Miss Casey,” David started, “This is Riley McKay of Titan Games.”
Her smile was wide and genuine. “My little brother loves your games. Oasis is his favorite.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” She lifted a glass of champagne to her lips and I cleared my throat. “I understand David’s told you about our project. I don’t want to waste your time. But I do want to say that you’re wrong.”
A thin brow rose. “Pardon me?”
“Not about wanting to do that movie. That’s your choice. But if you think it’s not up you’re alley…you’re wrong.” Sam would probably kick me if she overhead, but I couldn’t find her in my field of vision. Probably just as well, as I needed to focus. “See, it’s an action movie. And it’s based on a video game. But the premise is as real, as human, as any of the indie films you’ve done. It’s about sacrifice, and facing your fears. It’s about being terrified of what’s being asked of you, and doing it anyway. It’s about rising from the ashes, knowing love has to be enough.”
She tilted her head. “Is that what you believe?”
I stumbled. “It’s what I’d like to believe.”
She studied me over her glass. “I’ve read the script. It’s about a woman who rejects love in order to do her duty. It’s the classic hero archetype that graces countless screens every year, accented with CGI and witty banter. What makes this different?”
“What make
s it different is she knows she was wrong. And she regrets it, every day.”
I glanced past Jane to see Sam, talking with David across the room. Her lips curving as she met my gaze through the crowd.
“We think decisions are clean. That when they're done, that's it,” I went on without losing Sam’s gaze. “But they’re not. We re-make them all the time in our minds. We think we know what’s right for us and for other people. But at the end of the day we’re scared. Scared to hurt, scared to be hurt. Knowing you made the wrong choice because you were human…that’s as real as it gets.”
I finally turned back to Jane to find her tilting her head at me.
“Anyway.” I bowed my head. “It was nice meeting you.”
I went back to the bar for a drink, scanning the room for Sam.
“You have balls for days.” David materialized at my elbow. He nodded and I followed his gaze to where Jane was on the phone in the corner. “You know who’s on that phone?”
“Spielberg,” I deadpanned.
“Her agent.”
“She’s going to do it?”
“I don’t know. But she’s intrigued.” He studied me, and for the first time, I got the sense he actually saw me. David cocked his head. “Everyone in this town says they started on the movie lots. I started at GE. Sold refrigerators for five years, and now I’m here.” He barked out a laugh. “You ever think of trading in Titan for Hollywood?”
“Can’t say I have.” I shrugged even as my heart beat harder in my chest. “I figured Hollywood was somewhere you needed to get an invitation.”
He grinned. “Consider this yours.”
My hand stilled, the drink halfway to my lips. “Excuse me?”
“Come to LA. If you need a title, you can be a consultant. Those are just details. What we need is more of that fresh thinking.”
I studied his face. The usual smile was there, but now that I’d seen him a few times, I was starting to be able to read him. To know his reactions.
“I’m flattered. But I have a company to run.”
“Look around. Everyone has a company to run. You think that stops them from taking opportunities?”
I glanced past him at the well-dressed people, laughing easily over never-ending glasses of Veuve.