Just Like the Movies

by Natasha Preston

  “Plural?”

  My mouth is so close to her, I can practically taste her skin. “You used plural, too.”

  “Sophie from my class. She likes to spend time in the library. Are you hard yet?”

  I was hard the minute I laid eyes on her in my bed.

  I sigh. “How can I not be, thinking about Sophie. Though, I cannot recall what she looks like.”

  Her arm wraps around my back in a possessive move that I fucking love. “Sure, you do. Tall, light red hair, big boobs.”

  “Nope. I think I’ll take a rain check. I prefer the exact opposite of that.”

  “Short, dark hair, no boobs.”

  “You have boobs.” They’re inches away from my hands.

  “Oh, you’re talking about me? Sorry, my mistake.”

  I graze my lips against her neck, and her body shudders, pushing harder against me. I groan at the feel of her. She’s probably noticed my erection now, but I can’t move. “You really like hanging out at the library?”

  “I like to study there. My favourite place recently is the pub with Wren and Mila.”

  “We used to go to the pub.”

  “I don’t suppose you’re able to do a lot of that normal stuff. Not without being hounded. You’ll soon need bodyguards with you at all times. You’ll wake up every day to find photos of you doing the most boring stuff in the news.”

  That shit happens now but I don’t fancy ruining the moment. I’ve got her pressed up against me, horny and flirting.

  Smiling, I place a kiss on her collarbone. “Sounds fun.”

  She sighs and her nails dig into my back, pressing my dick into her leg. “It would to you.”

  “You’d hate it,” I say quietly.

  “I like my privacy.”

  “Yeah.” There’s privacy, and then there’s secrecy. Two very different things, and Indie falls into the latter category. “How will you handle running off with Ethan, then?”

  Me. How will you handle being with me?

  I pull back and almost come. Her eyes are on fire, and her mouth is parted like it’s begging me to slide my tongue inside.

  “I’ll have to change my name and dye my hair,” she says.

  A joke. Of course. She has no intention of even considering what it would be like for us to be us.

  “I’m sure he would protect you from the paparazzi.”

  “How?”

  “There are things you can do to stop people from your past or your personal life talking.”

  “That’s not guaranteed to work.”

  “There are no guarantees with anything. Is something really worth it if there’s no risk?”

  She tenses in my arms. “I don’t like risk.”

  “You don’t have to like it; you just have to be willing to go for it.”

  “That’s scary.”

  “When I auditioned for the movie, I risked the casting crew telling me that I wasn’t good enough.”

  Her lips smile an inch from mine. “You did it, anyway.”

  “Because the risk was worth it. Now look. I get to bring my favourite person out to LA, and I get to spoil her for a few days.”

  “You’re my favourite person, too, Hollywood.”

  “Yeah? Good thing really because we’ll always be together.”

  She doesn’t move but her eyes say enough.

  When she’s ready to leap, I’ll be right there waiting.

  Nineteen

  Indie

  I understand fully what he’s saying. I’m not stupid. At no point during our conversation about how I would cope with someone famous were we talking about Ethan Franklin.

  He wants to know if there’s a chance for us.

  It’s a question I struggle with almost every day. I would love nothing more than to be with him again. To be his officially. I want him so badly, but there is no way to have him and not have everything that comes with dating a movie star.

  “Hey,” he says, stroking his fingertips across my cheek. “What’s wrong?”

  You.

  My body trembles under his touch. He’s excited, I can feel his erection against my thigh. I ache to move and feel him between my legs.

  His eyebrows draw together. “Indie, you’re scaring me a little. What did I say to freak you out?”

  God, Spence, I love you.

  It’s the look in his eyes, the intensity and the lust that beg me to make stupid decisions ruled by my heart.

  I have to be smarter than that.

  A relationship could ruin us, and I can’t afford to see my counsellor more often than fortnightly if I want to save. How can I cope with my parents without having Spencer there? Even if he’s not physically close.

  “Tell me why you’re so scared, Indie,” he pleads. “I’ll make it better.”

  I close my eyes against the unbearable heart-tearing in my chest.

  I can’t have him.

  “Indie.” His voice betrays his fraying patience.

  I press my lips together and try to hold back the tears.

  “Indie,” he growls.

  “Yes?” I squeak.

  “Don’t yes me. Start talking.”

  “I don’t… I don’t know what to say.”

  His eyes penetrate mine. “Yeah, you do. The problem is that you won’t let yourself.”

  “Spencer, it’s not that easy for—” My brain shuts down completely.

  He’s no longer inches away from me. Spencer’s mouth is on mine.

  I don’t even remember what I was going to say. Every argument I have for not being with him seems ridiculous when his lips move against mine, coaxing me into a kiss that I know will change my world.

  I run my hands up his back and into his hair. My mouth parts when his tongue sweeps my lip. I’m so turned on I could scream.

  I want to kiss him until I can’t breathe.

  The sound he makes as my tongue slides against his… I will hear it for the rest of my life. It makes my clit throb so hard, I’m desperate for release. I move my hips, positioning his hard cock exactly where I want it to be.

  Each shattered piece of me fuses back together with every brush of his lips. There is nothing but him and me, and I would give anything to have this moment last forever.

  I wrap my leg over his and arch into him as my body vibrates with need. I want more. I need to be closer.

  Spencer, reading my mind, runs his hand down my back and over my butt. He pulls me into him, and I grind like a prostitute.

  “Indie,” he murmurs against my lips. His hand slides down to the back of my thigh. “You’re perfect,” he murmurs. “So fucking perfect.”

  I writhe against him, embarrassingly so, and I kiss him harder. He groans into my mouth and runs his fingers along the top of my thigh. I hate my pyjamas shorts.

  Spencer’s kisses mutate into something that feels too big for me to comprehend. He rolls me onto my back and grinds his erection between my legs. I jolt, almost coming on the spot.

  His eyes are dark and wild as he stares down at me like I’m the meal, and he’s starving.

  That’s when my self-control disappears.

  I reach out and hook my fingers into his boxers. His mouth parts as I pull them down. I’ve never seen Spencer completely naked. He manoeuvres himself so that he can slide them off.

  His erection is huge. Intimidatingly so. I’ve never been with anyone. This is my first time for everything, and I want to do it all with him.

  He runs his fingertips along my hips and waist, sliding my top up as he goes. I arch my back, and he whips the top over and off my head like he’s done it a thousand times before. My heart skips a beat as he looks me over, paying special attention to my breasts and hard nipples.

  “Jesus, you’re beautiful,” he says, continuing this inspection of my body.

  I have never felt so exposed and vulnerable, yet so powerful at the same time. The way he looks at me makes me feel pretty. I didn’t think that was possible.

  He pauses, and I’m prett
y sure he’s letting me lead, waiting until I’m comfortable.

  I lift my trembling hand, and he takes a sharp intake of breath.

  Please let me do this right. Wrapping my hand around the shaft, I squeeze gently. He’s hot and hard and it makes my pussy pulse.

  The strangled sound that comes out of his mouth makes me think I’m doing okay so far.

  I pump, and his head tilts back.

  “Indie,” he rasps. “So good.”

  He feels amazing in my hand. I bite my lip as I move my hand faster. He meets me, arching his hips to the rhythm I’ve set. I feel powerful knowing that I can do this to him.

  I watch my hand move around him, and then his face, flitting between both. I’m honestly not sure which is turning me on more.

  I am on fire.

  Breathing heavily, I try to ignore the need to come so that I can focus on making him feel good. It’s getting harder because my body thrums with desperation to feel him inside me. I don’t have to close my eyes and pretend he’s with me. He’s here now, and he looks like he wants to be inside me, too.

  “Indie, stop,” he says, gripping my wrist. “I’m going to come.”

  “I want you to.”

  He shakes his head, half pained like he hates himself a little in this moment. “The first time I come with you is going to be inside you. I need that.”

  “Oh,” I murmur, letting go. My hand feels worthless without him in it. I drop my arm to the mattress, and he takes deep breaths.

  I almost laugh, but I’m just as needy.

  When he refocuses, I know I’m in trouble.

  He bends down, and with absolutely no warning, drags his tongue down from my neck to my breast. I jump so violently; I almost leave the mattress and knock him out.

  With a chuckle, he takes my nipple in his mouth.

  Jesus. Christ.

  My eyes roll as he sucks on the bud and flicks it with his tongue.

  Fuck.

  I dig my heels into the mattress and moan. “That’s…”

  He smiles against my breast and sucks gently again.

  I squirm under him and fist the sheets. How is it possible to feel that pleasure everywhere? I pant like I’m a smoker running a marathon. Every nerve ending sizzles with pleasure. “Spencer, I can’t take it.”

  He moves to the other breast. I’m close. Can you come like this?

  “Spencer.”

  “Shh, baby, it’s okay.”

  He moves lower, peppering little kisses down the centre of my stomach.

  “Yes,” I moan, realising his destination.

  His hands massage my thighs as his mouth moves lower. “God, you’re wet for me. I’m so fucking turned on by you.”

  I squeeze my eyes closed as a ripple tears through my pussy. “Please do something,” I beg.

  The mattress bounces gently from his silent laughter. “Whatever you want,” he replies.

  His tongue slides against my clit.

  “Fuck!” I hiss. My hips arch into his face without permission.

  It only makes him groan. He kisses my clit and sucks with the same pressure he applied to my nipples. Oh. My. God.

  Nothing has ever felt this good before. Nothing I can do to myself comes close to his mouth.

  “Spencer, I need to come!” I claw at the bedding like a maniac.

  I’m acutely aware how desperate I sound but I’m dying.

  His reply is an assault of fast licks, some light and some maddingly heavy that have me fucking his face hard. His fingers dig into me as he holds me to his face. Gone is the light teasing. He’s lost control, too.

  “Spencer. I’m…” I throw my head back and groan.

  I come, grinding against him as wave after wave of ecstasy rips through body.

  Oh, Jesus.

  He moves up my body, kissing my clammy skin while I’m still seeing stars.

  “Nothing is more beautiful than watching you come,” he whispers when he’s against my ear.

  “I need you.” It’s all I can think to say.

  He sits up to look at me. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m really sure.”

  I thought he would pounce and he would be inside me within five seconds. He continues to stare like he’s just had some life altering experience.

  I’m lying beneath him, naked, jellified, and unable to feel my toes.

  I rake my eyes over his body, noticing thick muscle under soft skin. Spencer has always kept in shape but now he has a prominent six pack, and I love it.

  He’s sitting on my legs again, keeping most of his weight off me, though I don’t dislike the feel of him on top of me at all. His erection points up at the ceiling as if it’s waiting for me to go to it. To do what? My experience is limited to what I’ve seen on TV.

  “I… I…” My face flames.

  Spencer tilts his head to the side, his fingers caressing up my waist and over my breasts. I gasp, closing my eyes.

  “What, Indie? Hey, look at me.”

  My eyes open at his command.

  “You… what?” he asks.

  “I haven’t.”

  “You haven’t had sex before?”

  I look away. “No.”

  “Hey.” He leans over me and kisses my forehead. “I’m glad.”

  “That’s good? I don’t know what I’m doing, and this is our first time together. I want it to be perfect. I know what to do but I also know how to ride a motorcycle, but I don’t think it’s as simple as—”

  He ends my ramble with a kiss. “You don’t know how insanely jealous I get whenever you mention another guy’s name. It eats me up, stressing over them touching you, being inside you. Knowing that I’m the only guy to feel you? There’s nothing better than that.”

  I gulp. “Oh.”

  He kisses me again, his lips slow and deep, showing me how much he wants this. I feel the smile against my mouth as my confession lingers between us.

  I’m so not going to tell him that the reason I’ve never slept with anyone is because I wanted him to be my first. I’ve been on a few dates, which never went anywhere. Spencer is the only guy I want. He always has been.

  Lowering himself again, his body presses flush against mine, and we both sigh. His chest brushes my breasts, and my nipples strain.

  I run my hands over his back, worshiping him.

  “I’m on the pill. I want to feel all of you. Now. Please,” I whimper.

  With a deep groan, he lines himself up and pushes into me, his pace nail-bitingly slow.

  “Are you okay?” he rasps, his expression pained.

  I feel him slide inside gently.

  “Oh,” I breathe.

  The pinch between my legs is the oddest mix of pleasure and pain. I nod while still against his lips, and I hold him tight in case he tries to pull away.

  “Indie?”

  “Fine. I’m fine. Do not stop.”

  He eases in again and his mouth finds my neck. My nipples rub against his chest, driving me wild.

  “Yes,” I whisper as he stops for a second, letting me get used to him.

  I’m so full, so stretched.

  “I need it, Spence.”

  With a chuckle that half sounds like he’s in pain, he looks up and rolls his hips. The expression on his face is something I will see for the rest of my life. Eyes hooded, lips parted.

  “Yes,” I say again, arching into him, feeling every hard inch deliciously stretch me.

  Can you die from this?

  I feel like I’m going to die.

  Heat pools between my legs.

  My fingers curl into his back. If they hurt him, he doesn’t let up. Every thrust of his hips is heaven.

  “You feel so good, Indie. Fuck. You’re perfect.”

  I groan. “Spencer, never stop doing this.”

  “I won’t. You’re so tight.” His face twists with pure determination. Don’t come and end this yet. That won’t be a problem because I’m coiled so tight, I know I’ll snap soon.

  He
captures my mouth, kissing me with a fierce desperation I relate to. I could do this every single day of my life. I fist his hair and drag my tongue along his. The kiss is hot and wet, and it makes my pussy clench around him.

  We roll against each other with a hunger that makes my body thrum.

  I’m sweaty, he’s sweaty, and I never knew how much of a turn on that could be. Our chests slide against each other’s while we grind like wild animals.

  His lips turn frantic as we writhe together.

  “I’m… I’m close,” I pant, between frantic kisses.

  “Yes, baby, come for me. Come with me inside you.”

  He kisses my neck and his cock hits a spot that drives me insane.

  He buries himself deeper, and the pace picks up.

  “Come, Indie. I’m so close.”

  “Spence.” His name is a plea. I’m hot everywhere, and I need to move—to run, sprint, or do anything. I can’t take it. My head falls to the side. “Spencer!”

  I claw at his back as my orgasm tears through my body.

  His mouth slams down on mine roughly, and his arm slips under my waist. I kiss him like I’m trying to kill him with my lips. He thrusts harder, faster, and comes inside me.

  He doesn’t stop immediately but draws small, slow, maddening circles with his hips that makes me spasm.

  When he does eventually stop, I’m a boneless, sweaty mess. His hair is damp, making it curl more than usual.

  “Wow,” I breathe.

  “Indie,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “That was amazing. You are amazing. Are you okay?”

  I nod and glide my fingers through the waves of his hair. “That was everything. Thank you for making it everything.”

  “It was us. It was always going to be.”

  That’s true. I don’t even want to think what it all means. I just want to enjoy this moment.

  He slides out of me and scoops me into his embrace.

  “What are you doing?” I ask.

  “Taking you for a shower. It’s a fantasy I’ve had since I was fifteen.” His smile is blinding.

  “You look happy, Spence.”

  “Never been happier, actually.”

  Neither have I.

  Twenty

  Spencer

  Indie fell asleep in my arms an hour after we had sex and I followed shortly after. We had sex, and then a shower… where we had sex again. It still seems like a dream. I’ve had many of them and they’ve all gone a similar way. They’ve never felt as good, though.