“Can’t say I’m disappointed,” Jonathan says as he lifts his mug and sips.
“Why would you be? You’re the one who made the home run. And on the first date, no less,” Mum says, straightfaced. Jonathan chokes a little on his coffee as his eyes bug out. I just smile. Weren’t expecting that, were you?
Jonathan clears his throat and glances my way. “You, uh, told your mum about the hotel?”
“She guessed. Those flowers you sent tipped her off.” I smile sweetly, trying not to laugh because I’ve never seen Jonathan blush before. His neck is all red, and he’s looking like he wants to hide under the table.
“I see.”
Mum lets out a sigh of relief. “Well, I’m happy Sandra chose you, Jonathan. I’ve been struggling to keep this love triangle hidden. If I had to explain it to your father, Sandra, he’d have a stroke.”
“Surely he knows about my friendship with Jonathan,” I say. “It’s been all over the papers.”
“Oh no, I’ve been hiding the entertainment section and flicking the channel every time TMZ comes on. I haven’t even been buying the Woman’s Weekly or New Idea. He’d be very upset with me over it all, but it’s the only way. He wouldn’t understand you being seen with two men. He’s very old fashioned. But, now that you’ve made your choice, I don’t need to hide it anymore.” She turns to Jonathan. “Tell me, Jonathan dear, what are your intentions toward my daughter?”
“Mum!”
“What? Someone has to ask him. Especially after, you know…” She does a little side to side with her eyes then lifts her hand to hide her mouth from Jonathan before she mutters, “the rock star.”
“He can hear you,” I say, rolling my eyes as I shake my head. No wonder I’m still single. Jonathan must be rethinking this entire relationship by now.
“Yes, but I didn’t want to name names. I was trying to be covert.”
“No need. He knows about Marcus, mum.”
Jonathan nods. “I like to refer to him as Douche Bailey.”
“Rightly so,” Mum says, lifting her coffee and taking a sip as if she isn’t the most embarrassing person on this planet. “Now, back to your intentions.” Her eyes land expectantly on Jonathan.
“Kill me now,” I groan.
Jonathan reaches over and takes my hand in his, bringing it to his lips and pressing a kiss to my knuckles. “I promise, Mrs Haegen, my inten—”
“Madeline, please,” my mother interrupts. “Or Madz, I’m happy with Madz too.”
“No one calls you ‘Madz’,” I say.
“Why not? I can be cool.”
“Oh my god,” I say, placing my hand over my face as Jonathan gives my hand a gentle squeeze.
“As I was saying, Madz, my intentions toward your daughter are nothing but honourable. I plan to keep her,” he states and honestly, I swoon a little. I really want him to keep me.
“And what about this reputation you have? I’ve read articles about you and your ‘escapades’. Can you guarantee that these things won’t happen now that you’re with my daughter?”
I go to say something but Jonathan beats me to it.
“I can guarantee that I won’t even look at another woman. I can’t. Your daughter has my heart. She’s all I see.”
His eyes meet mine and I struggle not to allow a massive goofy smile to take over my face. I have his heart. He loves me.
“That all sounds very lovely, Jonathan. But you’re an actor. How do I know that that isn’t just a speech from one of your movies?” she counters.
“Well, you said you’ve seen everything I’ve been in. Do you remember that speech?”
She narrows one of her eyes. “No. I don’t. So, you’ve got me there. All right, I believe you. I’ll put a good word in for you with Mr Haegan,” she says, pushing away from the table. “Just don’t hurt my daughter, Mr Masters, or I promise you, I will rain down a hell storm that will make that car through your window seem like a mere imposition.”
“Yes ma’am,” he says, nodding at her in respect.
“Madz, please. We’re all friends here.” She smiles, then she gives me a wink and says that she’ll let herself out. As she leaves, I lean on my hands and slump in my chair.
“Oh, my god. She’s so embarrassing.”
“It wasn’t that bad.”
“How can you say that? That was absolutely mortifying.”
“I can say that, because you haven’t met my mother yet.”
“Is she just as bad?” I ask, and he laughs.
“No. She’s much, much worse. She has hated every girl I’ve ever brought home.”
“Oh god. Maybe we should skip the meeting the parents part.”
“You’ll be Fine. You’re different from the other girls.”
“How so?”
“Because I love you.”
“Am I the first girl you’ve ever loved?” I ask, my heart swelling in my chest.
He turns in his chair so he’s facing me before he looks at me with those beautiful blue eyes. “Yes. You’re the only girl I’ve ever loved.”
Swoon.
Twenty-Eight
Jonathan
“Which script is your absolute favourite?” I ask, holding them in front of me while Sandra screws her face up and tries to decide. We’ve gone back and forth over this all week. Despite the fact I’m happy to sit back and enjoy raising a family with her—even taking care of the baby while she works—she’s insistent that we can be the couple who has it all. And when my girl makes her mind up about something, it’s not easy to change. And I should know, it wasn’t easy to win her over.
“I like them both,” she says with a sigh, leaning back on her hands. She’s sitting on her coffee table wearing a pair of pink and purple patterned leggings with a woolen jumper over the top. Despite being early spring, we’re having some unusually cold and rainy weather. Tomorrow is supposed to break the cycle with predicted sunshine and warmth. My parents are planning a BBQ for our Saturday get together. I’m planning to bring Sandra along. But she doesn’t know it yet. Meeting my family is the most important step in making things right between us. There’s something I need from my father, and he won’t give it to me until he sees how important Sandra is to me.
“You can only choose one. Owen is on my back and if I don’t choose, I’ll be forced to pass on them both. We’ve pushed this as far as we can.”
“Well, I guess it depends on whether you want to grow as an actor by taking a risk and trying something new, or if you want to do something that’s a sure thing. Although for me, I’m not sure how comfortable I am with all the love scenes in your romantical option.” I was wondering when this would come up.
I lower the scripts to my lap. “The other one has sex scenes in it as well. And based on the way it’s written, they’re going to be a lot more explicit compared to the rom com.”
She rolls her eyes, a childish response she has when something is making her feel uncomfortable. It’s adorable like the rest of her. She pulls the scripts from my lap, flicking through them without reading them. She knows them by heart, anyway.
“Why do you have to do them at all?” she asks finally, her voice small as the reality of my profession hits her—I’ll have to kiss and pretend to make love to another woman.
I take the scripts from her then wrap her hands in mine. “I can say no to them both.”
“No,” she says immediately. “I don’t want that. I just hadn’t thought this part through. I mean, I’ve watched your movies. I know this is part of the job, but I hadn’t considered how it would make me feel to see it.”
“If it helps, the sex scenes are the most uncomfortable parts of filming. You’re pretending to get it on with someone while you’ve got this weird modesty thing taped over your dick and about twenty people are standing around scrutinising your naked arse. You have to be careful where you put your hands because if you touch somewhere you’re not suppose to all hell breaks loose.” I shake my head, thinking about the time I worked wi
th a well-known actress who was so uptight she complained constantly. I held her too tight, kissed her too soft, i was too tall, too slow to deliver my line, I didn’t look at her lovingly enough. By the end of filming, I wanted to throttle her. “There is nothing arousing about them. It’s the editing and music added during processing that make the magic.”
“So you’ve never lost yourself in the character and gotten aroused during one?”
I shake my head. “Never. They’re awkward.”
“Do you ever date your co-stars?”
“In the early days I did. But I haven’t for a long time. Actors aren’t easy to have a relationship with.”
“Is that a warning?”
I press a kiss to her hands. “No. I don’t get caught up in the fame side of things. Acting is my job, but my reality is here.”
“OK. Then I think you should do the Insta-stalker movie.”
“If I do that one, we’ll need to fly out in a week.”
Her eyes go wide. “A week?”
“As long as you’re still coming with me. Do you have your passport?”
“Yes. And of course I’m coming. I just…I’m…” She shakes her head and smiles. “Are we crazy to do this? I mean, you’re you. And I’m—”
“The love of my life, the mother of my unborn child.” I grin and she places her hands on either side of my face and leans in, pressing her forehead to mine.
“You’re right. We’re totally crazy. But we’re doing it, anyway. I want to be crazy with you, Jonathan.”
“Good. Because you’re not getting rid of me.”
Twenty-Nine
Sandra
“Do you like that?” Jonathan’s voice is in my ear while his fingers work my insides.
“Yes,” I gasp, arching against him, wanting more. Always wanting more.
His mouth moves to mine and I whimper as his tongue slides in with demanding strokes. He gives me daily orgasms but I want his cock so bad. Another night spent in the same bed and he’s yet to cave. It’s hard for me to wait, it must be absolute torture for him. But he has a plan. And to be honest, I find his restrained doting on me beautiful. He’s proving to me I’m important.
Sliding down my body, he peppers soft kisses over my breasts, pausing to suck a nipple in his mouth. They’re insanely sensitive right now and I hiss through my teeth, close to tipping over the edge.
“Ah-Ah-Ah,” he tuts, pausing his moving at my core as he releases my nipple then blows cool air over it. “I’m not ready for you to come yet.”
“Please,” I whimper, dying from need.
“No. I need more from you. I want to smell you on my fingers and taste you on my tongue.”
“Oh god,” I say when his mouth closes over my clit and he moans, his tongue swirling as his fingers push into my depths, curling into my g-spot.
I can’t hold it in.
My fingers spear into his hair and my thighs close around his ears and I let go, hips rocking as I fuck his face, calling out into the early morning.
“Holy fuck.”
When he brings me down, I release my grip on him and he comes up for air, wiping a hand over his face before climbing back over me and reclaiming my mouth.
I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him as deep as I can, pressing my thigh against his erection as he grinds it against me before he groans and tears his mouth from mine, panting. “Everything about you feels so good.”
“I could stay in this bed with you forever,” I say with a somewhat satisfied smile.
“Hmm, I’d gladly oblige, but we need to get up and get dressed.”
“What for?”
“I’m taking you out.”
“In public?” We’ve been avoiding the paparazzi so far by keeping to his place or mine and avoiding questions when we’re apart.
“I’m taking you to meet my parents.”
I’ve been lucky to escape the dreaded morning sickness, which the doctor assured me was normal and completely fine.
“Is this some kind of joke?”
Jonathan laughs as he sits back and pulls my arms so I’m sitting too. “No. We’re leaving at ten.”
My mouth falls open, and he places his index fingers under my chin and pushes it closed.
“Relax,” he says, kissing my cheek. “You’ll fit right in.”
“I don’t think I’m ready to meet your parents,” I whisper, the seriousness of this moment hitting me all at once.
“Since we leave in a week, it’s either now or when the baby is born. Out of respect, I think we should tell them in person and let them officially meet you before the baby bump rumours circulate.”
“Of course,” I say, feeling bad as a nervous swirl lands in my belly. “We’ll need to see my parents too. Holy hell. This is really happening.” I let out a nervous laugh before I take a hold of his face and lean my forehead against his, something I find myself doing a lot, as if I can’t believe he’s really here.
“Thinking about backing out?”
I press my lips to his. “No.”
“Good. Because I wouldn’t let you. We’re in this together now, like it or not.”
“Of course I like it, I love it. I’m just nervous. A lot is happening.”
“Well, I’m not normally one to say I told you so, but if you’d given into this from the beginning, we’d be seven weeks in love instead of one. But I think this just teaches us that I’m the one who knows best and you should always listen to me.”
I laugh and push against his chest. He’s got no chance of me agreeing to that one. “What does one wear to meet a movie star’s parents? Im afraid my Chanel dress is at the cleaners,” I joke, because I don’t make that kind of money.
“If you wore Chanel to meet my family, they’d laugh you out of there. Whatever you’re comfortable in is fine. They’re barbecuing today since the weather is nice.”
“OK. Why don’t you go shower and I’ll decide what to wear?”
He kisses me again then gets out of bed. “Don’t stress too much. They’re the most unpretentious people you’ve ever met.”
The moment he leaves my bedroom, I begin sifting through my wardrobe for something to wear, deciding that my clothes are either too serious, too flirty, too dowdy, or too basic. I don’t want them to think I’m just a blonde bimbo who got herself knocked up by some famous guy on purpose. Oh god. What if that’s how they see me? That couldn’t be further from the truth.
Pulling off my clothes, I try on a tan summer dress that has a pretty white floral pattern around the trim then I pull it off again, deciding it’s too short and too immature for a meeting with parents. Oh god. I’m so nervous about this.
“That isn’t going to be OK,” Jonathan comments as he appears in my bedroom doorway, hair damp, a towel wrapped around his narrow waist. He looks like a wet dream, and normally I’d be fighting the urge to tear that towel off him, but I’m in the midst of a panic attack while standing in my bra and panties. “There is no way I’ll be able to keep my intentions pure if you’re only wearing that.” He reaches out and grabs at the air comically, biting the knuckle on his other hand as he lets out a groan. “Oh god, it doesn’t matter, I’m going to be thinking about how sexy you look in those little pink panties, Red. I just…I can’t…put something on!” He slaps his hand over his eyes and reaches out to shut my door. “If you could throw me my clothes, I’ll be waiting out here, trying to get my hard-on to go down.”
Smiling, I shake my head as I make the snap decision to wear an A-line pale blue and white dress that comes down to my knees. The moment I pull it from my wardrobe, I spot the outfit I stole from Jonathan that first night we were together and pull it from the shelf. I laundered it, but it still smells like him. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t occasionally hold it to my nose and inhale. The man is intoxicating.
Deciding it’s time to return his outfit, I drop the jeans and button-up shirt on the end of my bed then grab a pair of white sandals to go with the dress I’m wearing.
/> “Room’s all yours,” I say as I saunter out, twisting my long hair into a bun on the top of my head. Jonathan is sitting on the couch and stands as soon as he sees me. I’m disappointed that the towel remains firmly about his waist. Look at that, I’m already calming down.
“Perfect,” Jonathan says, as he slides his hands around my waist and kisses me. “But I’m still picturing those panties when I look at you, Red, so. fucking. hot.” He growls into my ear, causing me to blush and burn for him at the same time.
“Your clothes are on the end of my bed,” I say, placing my hand against his warm chest. I can feel the damp on his skin and smell the heat of the steam.
“Is that what I think it is?” he asks when he looks over my shoulder and spots the clothes I laid out.
“I thought you might like them back.”
He grins. “I’m glad you kept them.”
“They smell like you,” I murmur, being truthful even though it could make me feel foolish.
“Confession time: I have something of yours too.”
My eyes widen. “You do?”
He rubs a hand on the back of his head. “I took your dress. The one you were wearing that night.”
“As a souvenir?”
He looks down at me, studying my face as his fingers gently brush along my jawline. “Because it smelled like you,” he murmurs. “You know, they say humans are attracted by scent the same as any other animal. We’re obviously meant for each other.”
“Or we’re freaks who go around sniffing people’s clothes.”
“Just yours.” He winks at me then lowers his mouth to mine, kissing me languidly. “Mm. I should get dressed or we’ll be late.”
“And we want to make a good impression, right?”
“Right.” He bites at his lip before he pulls me to him and kisses me again, hands roaming as he backs me up against the doorframe, devouring me as he works me into a frenzy. I feel like a teenager when I’m with him. We’re doing adult things and making adult decisions but the waiting, the anticipation reminds me of a time when sex was something you worked your way up to.
Star (Beautiful Book 5) Page 17