by Cat Johnson
“You really do look freaking hot in the saddle, by the way.” He grinned.
“Stop.” I shook my head, embarrassed.
“I mean I’ve seen you handle the horses and don’t get me wrong, seeing all five foot nothing of you commanding a half a ton of horse is hot as hell too. But you, in the saddle . . . Yeah, it’s quite an inspiring sight.”
He brushed his hand against my cheek.
I swallowed hard and somehow found my voice. “I’m five-foot three, thank you. And you looked pretty good out there yourself today.”
He wet his lower lip with the tip of his tongue as he leaned lower. “Later, after we’re done and I can concentrate on something other than getting inside you, I’m going to want you to repeat what you just said. About how good I rode. And elaborate, if you don’t mind.”
“Sure,” I said, breathless.
His lips against mine felt familiar, even after my having spent only one night with him. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I realized that wasn’t a good thing. Realized that one day these lips would we gone and I’d never kiss them again.
The day would come I’d have to turn on the television to see Jamey and pretend it was me he was kissing on the screen rather than his co-star. Or worse, his girlfriend.
But for now, he was here and his lips were all mine.
FIFTEEN
JAMEY
I knew when a woman was into me and when she was just phoning it in because the fame and fortune made me seem like a good catch.
I also knew that Maisie liked me. Liked me even while she pretended to be annoyed with me . . . and I knew that sometimes that annoyance wasn’t pretend.
The point was Maisie wasn’t after me for my fame or my money, so why did she just stiffen in my arms when I kissed her?
She’d been into me—into doing this—last night.
I wouldn’t have had to rehydrate with a sports drink when I got home yesterday from the exertion of the night with her if she hadn’t been into me—three times.
So what was going on now? Because this setting, this moment, demanded a love scene. And I should know.
A sudden storm. The hero and the heroine, wet and breathless, taking shelter. The rumble of thunder. The huff of a horse nearby. It was all straight out of a movie but it was very real. So was the feel of her beneath my hands.
My arms around her, I leaned down low and pressed my forehead against hers. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
Bull shit.
“You can talk to me, you know,” I said.
“I know.” There was that defensiveness in her tone again.
I brought it out in her all the time, usually for no explainable reason I could think of except that I was getting the blowback from her last relationship. That I was now paying for every bad thing that Charlie’s dad had done. And what it was costing me was precious moments with Maisie.
“Why do you keep putting up this wall between us?” I asked.
“I’m not.” She caught my raised brow and let out a breath. “Okay, fine. Maybe I am. I’m just preparing myself for when your lessons are over.”
“Why?”
Now it was her turn to lift a brow. “Because you date models and actresses and once you’re back in LA that’s who you’ll be with. And that’s fine. I knew that going into this thing. I just want to make sure when you leave and I don’t see you ever again there are no feelings between us—good, bad or other. That’s all.”
“Wait, wait, wait. Hold on a second.” I leaned back so I could get a better look at her face. “Who says I only date actresses and models? And why in the world wouldn’t I see you again? I’m only an hour away.”
“An hour without traffic.” She forced a closed mouth smile but I didn’t share it.
“Nope. You’re not joking your way out of this. I’m telling you right now, everything you think about me and my supposed dating life is wrong.”
“Not according to the internet,” she countered.
The damn internet and the paparazzi who fed the beast had become the bane of my existence over the past couple of years.
“Maisie, don’t believe everything you see.”
“Humph.” She pulled out of my arms.
I was losing this battle, and this woman, and I’d be damned if I didn’t fight back.
“Okay. Come on. Let’s do this.” I grabbed her hand and looked around the building we were in.
The choices for seating were pretty limited. I finally spotted a big chest on the floor. Probably an old tool box. I didn’t care what it was. I pulled Maisie toward it and sat her down.
“You got your phone on you?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Get it out. Open up whatever browser you’ve been searching me on and show me.”
She dropped her gaze to the floor. “I’m sorry. Really, Jamey. We don’t have to do this. I didn’t mean to—”
“Nope. I want to. Get out your phone. Show me what you saw.” I folded my arms, widened my stance and stood my ground in front of her.
Finally, after a glance up at me, she pulled the cell out of her jeans pocket and scrolled on the screen.
She turned the phone to face me.
I drew in a breath. One damn nude scene and apparently it was going to follow me around forever.
Here the creative poster had put up one picture taken from the scene in the movie of me and Sierra in bed. Then placed next to it a picture of her and I walking together down a street in Manhattan.
I had my arm around Sierra in the shot. I remembered the day and why I’d done that. We were walking from the hotel to the studio, about to head inside to do one of the morning talk shows, when the wind had whipped up. She didn’t have a coat on, so I’d wrapped my arm around her until we got inside.
All perfectly innocent, but looking at it now, laid out on screen with two hundred and thirty six comments beneath it all probably speculating about us, I could see how it would mess with Maisie’s head.
I could deal with this. “Okay. That’s Sierra Cox, my co-star. You and I discussed her when we watched the movie together so you already know where this one picture came from. Rick, her huge Navy SEAL boyfriend, was on set the whole time we were filming that scene by the way. As for the second picture, I assure you it was perfectly innocent. She’s very happy with Rick. In fact, he just asked her to marry him. I’m invited to the engagement party after her film wraps.”
I thrust the phone back at her and folded my arms.
Leveling my gaze on her, I said, “Next.”
Lips pressed tight, she hesitated and finally focused back on the cell, swiping through some more pages in the browser before she turned it back toward me.
I saw another familiar face from my brief but eventful acting past and nodded.
“That’s JoJo, the woman who was opposite me in the first movie I ever did. The fighter film. She’s a lesbian. She and her wife just had a beautiful baby.” A chuckle left me. “It’s crazy, but they actually asked me for my sperm.”
Maisie’s eyes popped wide.
I scrambled to add, “I said no.”
“Why?” she asked.
“Because I plan on raising any child that’s a part of me.” I thrust the cell back at her. “Next.”
I somehow knew we weren’t done yet. The paparazzi were too tenacious. There’d be more pictures.
So far this little game of Name that Starlet I’d initiated to dispel her fears and rumors circulating about me had been a piece of cake.
There’d been nothing incriminating. Nothing I couldn’t explain. Nothing at all to keep that wall up between me and Maisie. Then she showed me one more shot and my good mood took a nose dive for the floor.
Rachel. Model. Aspiring actress. Too pretty to be real. At least if you didn’t look too deep.
I drew in a breath and braced for impact. “Okay. That one I actually did date. For two whole weeks.”
She looked surprised at that last part. “What ha
ppened? She’s really beautiful.”
On the outside. Not so much on the inside.
“I figured out she was more into being seen with me than she was into me. Besides, she’s not really my type.” I handed the phone back to her, tired of this game now.
“She’s not your type?” Maisie cocked up her brow. She laid the phone on the bench next to her and glanced up at me, a challenge in her eyes. “Then what is your type?”
That was easy to answer. I reached down, wrapped my hands around her arms and lifted so she was standing in front of me. “You.”
Her lips twisted as her gaze dropped away. “I don’t believe you.”
“No?” I asked, raising her chin with one finger so she had to look at me. I moved closer so we were just a breath apart. “Then I guess I’d better show you to prove it.”
The rain pounded on the roof as the thunder rumbled low, sounding farther away now. I prayed it wouldn’t go too far away. I wanted to be trapped by the storm here with her, at least for a little while longer.
In the dead last place I ever imagined I’d be kissing the girl of my dreams—an old wooden shed filled with odd farm equipment I couldn’t name if I tried—I leaned in toward her lips.
This woman haunted me during the few waking hours I wasn’t here on the farm with her.
She stared at me with eyes as blue as the sky in an old western, which seemed particularly fitting. The color so deep it looked almost fake, but I knew this woman in front of me was all real.
Possibly the most real person in my life . . . aside from Walt. But I didn’t want to kiss Walt, only Maisie.
In fact, I wouldn’t mind if I never kissed another woman besides her ever again.
My heart twisted at the thought of her erecting that wall between us to keep me at a distance. She was skittish. Like a new horse.
Look at me, already thinking like a cowboy. The lessons were working. Jerry would be so proud. Well, maybe not about the part where I kissed my riding teacher.
I wanted to lock this woman down. Make her my girlfriend.
Hell, I wanted to make her my everything . . . and beat the shit out of Dusty for putting this wary look in her eyes. The one that said even though she’d given her body to me, she’d never fully give her heart again, because of him.
With my lips almost touching hers, I said, “I’m not Dusty.”
A crinkle formed between her brows. “I know.”
“I won’t hurt you.”
A small, sad smile bowed her lips. “Yes, you will.”
Before I could reply, her lips were on mine.
This woman, who flawlessly controlled horses ten times her size, had no trouble taking control of me. With her hands locked on my arms, she eased back against the box, taking me with her.
It made no sense that a woman, wet from the rain, dressed in old faded jeans and a button-down denim work shirt, could look so damn sexy. But Maisie did.
She reached for the button on her jeans and it took just seconds for me to do the same. Making love on top of a rusty toolbox in a dusty old shed with two horses watching shouldn’t be a dream come true.
For me it was.
If there wasn’t a love scene just like this already written into my next film, I was going to demand they write one.
I slipped on a condom and had stepped between her legs before the empty packet hit the ground.
Sliding into her, I felt how she was as ready as I was.
I wanted to love her, long and hard and thoroughly. But there was something I wanted more. Her trust.
I could multitask—make love to her and make her mine at the same time. Pinned beneath me as I leaned low and thrust into her, she was a captive audience for what I had to say.
“Listen to me, Maisie.”
At my words, her eyes fluttered open. I pumped into her again and they started to close.
“No. Look at me,” I said.
She drew in a breath and focused those pools of blue on me again.
“I will never hurt you. Or Charlie. I want you both as a part of my life even after this damn month is over. Got it?” I paused, buried deep inside her where she lay, and waited for an answer.
Biting her lower lip, she nodded.
“Good.” I managed to deliver the word in a firm, even stern, tone. Meanwhile inside I was doing backflips worthy of a cheerleader after a touchdown.
But more importantly, now, finally, I could concentrate on what I was doing.
Instead of worrying about tomorrow I could fully appreciate the beauty of this moment. This, right now, with her.
I closed my eyes and let myself became immersed in the feel of her surrounding me.
Reaching between us, I pressed the spot that would send her soaring.
Her breath caught in her throat. She clamped down around me as I stroked inside her, slow and steady. I groaned, satisfied with my small success.
Standing between her legs with my feet firmly on the ground, I bent my knees. That changed the angle and I heard the hitch in her breath in response.
Since last night’s marathon with her had broken my long dry spell, I knew I could go forever this morning. But in reality, I was waiting for one thing. The best part.
I worked her harder with my thumb and said, “Come for me.”
Her mouth dropped open as she pressed her head back and I braced for a repeat of what I’d felt last night—Maisie coming around me.
It started slow, building inside her, and I was front and center for the action as her muscles gripped me tight, making every stroke an effort and an extreme pleasure.
When the first cry broke from her throat I forced my eyes open. I loved looking at Maisie all the time, but watching her face while she came was an experience I wasn’t about to miss.
“Yes,” I hissed and her body clenched in response.
As her cries sped so did my stroke until I was too immersed in loving this woman to know or care where we were.
I felt her spasms gripping me and struggled to hold on, enjoying every second of her pleasure as my own built to the breaking point.
Finally, as her body calmed I pounded myself to completion and sent her into another orgasm that squeezed me dry.
Buried deep inside her and fading fast I closed my eyes and absorbed the final moments as the aftershocks of her climax sent shocks through me.
“Holy shit.” I breathed against her neck where I’d collapsed on top of her.
Never ever had it been like this. And as we’d discussed, I was no virgin. I had plenty of basis for comparison. Not so much lately, but still, I knew what I was talking about.
She let out a breath. “Yeah. I agree.”
Smiling, I lifted up off her just enough to see her face. “You know, after this I might never be able to smell wet horse again without getting hard.”
She shook her head, her small reluctant smile finally breaking out into a laugh. “I guess this is what I get for being with a city boy.”
“Get used to it.” I leaned down again and pressed a quick kiss to her mouth.
I realized it was quiet outside. I pushed myself upright and took a step back, hating that meant I was not longer touching her. But I knew it was time to get back to reality.
“I guess we should be getting back,” I said while dealing with the condom. I adjusted my underwear and reached for the zipper on my jeans. “It sounds like the storm passed.”
She raised her gaze to me, looking more like a woman trying to figure out a problem than one sated from my loving. “No. I have a feeling the real storm is still ahead.”
That ominous statement had me staring at her as I bent to retrieve the empty condom wrapper.
I might not have much school learning but my street smarts and people skills were on point and I knew we weren’t talking about thunderstorms anymore.
She was talking about me. Us. That was fine. She was a skeptic, but I was a man of action.
I didn’t need to tell her she was wrong about this thing be
tween us. I would show her.
We could do this. Be a couple. Be happy. Even with her baggage and my fame.
She’d see.
SIXTEEN
MAISIE
The days were going by too fast. Our month together ticked down to just a couple of weeks remaining now.
Not that I was worried about having enough time to get Jamey camera-ready on horseback. He already was. That gallop through the rainstorm had proven that.
It was that he’d be leaving my realm and going back to his own that worried me.
Even though he’d said he’d never hurt me. Even though he’d presented a convincing argument that he wasn’t a supermodel or starlet collector in his dating life, I still knew with certainty things would change the moment he was back in Hollywood.
If I couldn’t make it work with Dusty, a man whose life was the same as mine, how could I make it work with a man so completely opposite?
Speak of the devil—as if I’d conjured him with a single thought I glanced up and saw Dusty striding across the yard, a scowl on his face.
I needed to stop thinking his name if this was the result.
“Hey!”
I didn’t get a good morning from him. No hello. Just a hey and a frown.
No manners on this man. He hadn’t had them as a boy, so I shouldn’t be surprised he didn’t have them now.
Half my life was spent making sure Charlie didn’t grow up to be like his father.
God willing, I was doing a good job at that because one Dusty in my life was one too many.
“What the fuck is that guy always doing hanging around here?” Dusty flailed one arm in the direction of where Jamey had just delivered a bucket of feed to Avis and was about to move on to Lucifer.
He was doing a good job feeding the horses by himself while I brushed Stardust so she could be saddled up for my nine o’clock lesson, who should be arriving any moment. I didn’t have time for Dusty’s jealous rant right now.
“He’s my student,” I said, managing to drag my gaze off Jamey and back to Dusty.
“How many fucking hours of lessons did he book?” Dusty’s eyes bulged.
I looked at them more closely now and realized there was no magic in them. Not like I saw when I looked into Jamey’s eyes.