The Redhead Series

by Alice Clayton

  As I watched the two of them, Jack’s hand kept wandering over to my knee. He was handsy tonight. Must have been the Heineken. I nudged him back, spotting several girls in the crowd just beyond the VIP section taking it all in.

  “Well, let’s just say I’ve learned my lesson. I’m a fucking Boy Scout nowadays,” Adam answered, pulling one of the blondes down onto his lap and gesturing for a waiter to bring over another bottle of champagne. He raised a glass as Holly laughed, taking her own when it was offered.

  “To the Boy Scouts,” she toasted, and rolled her eyes at me over the rim. I bit back a laugh, pulling Jack’s hand once more off my knee. The music was pounding, and I was dying to dance.

  “Shall we?” I asked Holly, nodding toward the dance floor.

  “Hell yes, I need to shake my ass,” she affirmed, draining her glass and moving beyond the velvet ropes. Adam was busying himself with the blondes and had already lost interest in us.

  “You coming?” I asked Jack.

  “I’m watching.” He smirked, leaning back against the leather and taking another bottle off the waiter’s tray as he passed by.

  “That’s no fun, George,” I teased, backing away.

  “Depends on what you’re watching.” He winked, taking a sip of his beer and licking his lips as a shudder ran through me.

  I continued to back away, turning around at the velvet ropes and making sure to add a little extra sexy to my hips, knowing he was watching. I joined Holly on the dance floor as the music changed to a new song, heavy bass pumping through the club. I threw back my head and gave myself over to the beat. Holly and I carved out our own dance space, losing ourselves in the song and the vibe. Screaming synthesizers and angry guitar buffeted everyone on the floor, hands groping and hips bumping as collectively we thrashed. Song after song we danced, energy spiking and spiraling throughout.

  Sex poured through the speakers, oozed onto the floor, and inflamed everyone as we danced. It was dark and enveloping, hot and sticky, sweaty. I pulled my hair back from my face and felt hands on my hips, pulling me back against another body. I smiled, looking over my shoulder at who belonged to the hands. Just another guy at a club, looking for someone to dance with. Tall and handsome, his hands moved me, and I looked over his shoulder to find Jack.

  Still sitting against the red leather, his eyes burned into mine as he took in the sight of me dancing with another man. I raised my arms up, the hem of my little black dress sliding farther up my legs. I let my hands tangle into his hair, feeling my body press along his, sliding low and then back up again, my fingers now tangling behind his neck as we moved together. I turned to grin at my partner, noticing that his boyfriend had appeared and was dancing behind him. Moving slightly, I slid in between the two, feeling both men encircle me, one leg sliding inside my own, grinding me hard. I let my head fall back against my new partner, feeling the beat of the music slip inside and pound my brain.

  I closed my eyes and could feel the bass drugging me, relaxing me more than alcohol ever could. I was spun quickly, and as I smiled at Holly, lost in her own world with a very good-looking guy who couldn’t be older than twenty, I glanced at the VIP section, wondering if Jack was still enjoying the view. I felt hands dipping lower on my legs and dragging my dress higher than was probably appropriate, and I was pulled back suddenly, a very wet mouth finding my neck and sucking hard at my shoulder. I began to turn when that very mouth was pressed against my ear.

  “Fucking Nuts Girl, do you know what you do to me?” my Brit whispered, teeth sinking into my skin and shocking me still. My eyes rolled back in my head as I felt him, hard and thick against my back. I reached up, but he grabbed at my hand, turning it and pinning it behind me, holding me tightly. He pressed my hand against him, letting me feel exactly what I had done to him. I moaned, the beat pulsing and continuing to assault as he turned my face to the side. Kissing the side of my neck, he thrust himself against my hand, and I couldn’t resist giving him a squeeze.

  He groaned low in his throat, and he released my hand, encircling my waist with his strong arms, pulling me even more flush against him, moving now with the music. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and one of his hands came up to tweak my nipple, causing me to gasp.

  “I thought you didn’t dance,” I said, pushing my hips into his, relishing in the lust that was cooking on this dance floor.

  He turned me roughly in his arms, hitching one of my legs up high around his hip, his fingers dangerously close to my panties. He played with the lace, slipping underneath and grazing me, watching as my eyes grew wide.

  “I’m not dancing,” he breathed, then crushed his mouth to mine. In the middle of the dance floor in the middle of Hollywood, Jack Hamilton pressed his fingers against me, hidden from the crowd and only known to me. Working to the beat, he thrust, the green on fire in his eyes as I struggled to keep upright.

  “Jesus, what are you— Ohhh,” I moaned. Knowing how dangerous this was made it sweeter, and I was on the verge within seconds of his skin meeting mine.

  “I love watching you,” he panted, keeping me pulled tightly into him, totally at his mercy, his hand hidden between our bodies.

  “Yes, yes! God, Jack, yes,” I panted, riding his hand shamelessly, my nails digging into the back of his neck as he hissed in pain.

  “You ready?” he asked, his eyes on mine as I got close, so close, so very close. I nodded, incapable of speech, lost.

  “Great, let’s go,” he grinned, removing his hand and straightening my dress. I stumbled slightly, and he grasped my hand, pulling me through the club. Waving at Holly, he motioned toward the door as she smiled back, mouthing to me, “Call you tomorrow.”

  I was stunned, my skin still warm from his touch, still tingling from what had just happened. I shook my head to clear it, not believing I had let things get carried so far away. I let him guide me to the door, and he released my hand as we neared the entrance. “I can’t wait to get you home,” he whispered in my ear, that grin that always made me smile stretching back across his face.

  “I’m gonna get you for that, George,” I warned, sighing as he pursed his lips in a silent kiss.

  “Counting on it.” He winked and leaned back into the door.

  Which opened into a barrage of flashbulbs.

  four

  Jack pushed back against me, slamming me into the wall as the paparazzi surged, flashes going off from every direction. My head hit the brick, and I let out a gasp as I fumbled for my balance. People were screaming his name, shouting and yelling and trying to get their shots.

  “Jack! Jack! Over here!”

  “Hey, Hamilton, who you got with you there?”

  “Hey, Jack, right here! Can you smile? Come on, right here!”

  A bouncer had us back inside within seconds, but it was minutes before I could see clearly. Jack clutched at me, shielding me as another member of security ushered us back to another part of the club, quieter and more secluded.

  “Jesus, Grace, you okay? Shit!” he exclaimed. I blinked back the flashes I was still seeing and accepted a bottle of water from someone.

  “I’m fine. I’m fine!” I told him as he looked me over. “Come on, I mean it. I’m fine.” I tried to smile, patting the back of my head.

  “Where the hell is the security in this place? Dammit, why wasn’t someone at that door?” Jack yelled as a manager hurried over.

  “Sir, Mr. Hamilton, I’m so sorry,” he tried to explain. “I didn’t realize you were heading out that way, I thought—”

  “Are you bloody kidding? What’s the point of having a VIP section if you can’t even keep those fucking animals away from my girlfriend?” he exploded, pulling his phone out of his pocket and dialing angrily.

  I crossed to him, placing my hand on his arm. “Who are you calling?”

  He held up a finger. “Yeah, Bryan? Hey, can you pick us up? Right, we’re at Bar the Door. Great, twenty minutes? Thanks, man,” he finished, putting his phone away and grabbing for my ha
nd.

  Bryan. His new security guy he used for public appearances.

  Your boyfriend has his own bodyguard . . .

  Wow, did I just have a hit of Hollywood.

  “Bryan’s on his way, he’s going to take you home.” Jack kissed my forehead and kept me close against him.

  “Why don’t you let me take her home?” I heard a familiar voice say. I looked around and saw Holly walk up behind Jack. He closed his eyes, biting down on his lip—not in the way I was used to seeing it, though.

  “Yeah, why don’t I go with Holly?” I scratched at his scalp and prodded him to open his eyes.

  “I’d really prefer you go with Bryan. He can get you in and out of here without—”

  “Without what, Jack? Paparazzi?” Holly interjected. “It’ll be easier if she and I leave together. They’ve already seen you. They’re only looking for her if she’s with you. You go out with Bryan, and we’ll head out another entrance.”

  “I don’t know. I’d feel better if—”

  “Jack. You’re famous. She isn’t yet, but she’s gonna be. You two wanna go out dancing? This is gonna happen. Let me take her home,” Holly interrupted, her voice taking on the tone that was not to be messed with.

  “I’ll see you there, okay?” I said, leaning in and squeezing his hand before starting after Holly.

  “I’m sorry, Grace,” he called after me.

  “Hush. You be careful,” I called back, meeting his eyes, which now looked red and tired. Letting Holly lead me back into the crowded club, I took one last look at Jack, head hanging.

  This was not good.

  “So that was weird,” I said twenty minutes later. Holly and I were packed into her car and speeding up Robertson toward the canyons.

  “That? That was nothing. This was just your first real taste of it. It’s gonna get worse. You remember what it was like at his premiere, don’t you?” She passed me her bottle of water. Now that I was outside the club, I could feel my dress sticking to me. I rolled down the window and let the breeze fluff out my hair and clear my brain a little. On the way back out of the club, I had noticed how packed that dance floor really was.

  Holy shit, did I really let Jack almost give me an orgasm in the middle of that club? Hollywood . . . Damn, it’s a powerful drug.

  “I remember. They barely paid Nick and me any attention at first. They sure went crazy when Jack showed up, though.” I winced, thinking of that night.

  “Pfft, they barely paid any attention to you until one of them figured out you were the unidentified redhead. I was doing damage control all night! Gimme that.” She gestured for the water.

  I winced again, remembering when a photographer had made the connection that I’d been the one connecting with Jack for months. There weren’t many pictures of us together, but before Time had come out, we’d had a few weeks of relative anonymity early in our relationship. We didn’t really think too much about showing affection in public, and the pictures were still out there.

  “That was a bad night all around.” I grimaced. Many cocktails and a shaky sense of self combined into not one of my better moments. I’d almost lost Jack for good.

  “Listen, I know he doesn’t always want to listen to me, but my job—in fact, my only job—is to make his life work for him. That’s it. He needs to remember that.” She turned onto Laurel Canyon.

  I thought about what she said carefully before I answered. Soon she’d be doing that job for me. Maybe. Possibly. “He knows, Holly. He’s just having a little trouble with all this. It’s so much to get used to. I think he’s doing pretty great, all things considered.”

  “Sure, but it’s my job to consider all things, and we still have to figure out what we’re going to do about you two.”

  “What about us?”

  “Asshead, listen. When you two first got together, it was manageable. He hadn’t really hit yet, and you, well, you were nobody.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You know what I mean.” She laughed, turning into my drive. She killed the car and the lights, and we sat for a moment in the quiet. “Now he’s the guy everyone is clamoring for, and you’re about to take off on your own path. The same rules don’t apply.”

  “So what are you suggesting? That we go public? I thought you said his fans wouldn’t stand for that.” I sighed, running my fingers through my hair and crinkling my nose at the club smell that lingered.

  “They won’t. They definitely won’t,” she said, worrying at a fingernail. “Eh, let me think on it. Let me figure out a few things. Don’t worry about it.” She grinned.

  “You coming in?” I asked, gesturing toward the house.

  “Hell no. I’m exhausted. I’ve got meetings all day tomorrow. Say good night to Jack for me, will you?”

  “Will do.” I slid out of the car but turned back toward her as she called my name. “Yes?” I asked through the window.

  “He won’t want to hear it from me, but Jack needs to be careful with Adam, okay?”

  “Adam? Why?”

  “Just tell him to watch it.”

  “Anything I need to be worried about?”

  “I don’t think so. Not yet anyway. Just mention it?”

  “Sure thing. Call me tomorrow.”

  “’Night, asshead.”

  “’Night, dillweed.” I snorted as she pulled away.

  I walked into the house, the weight of the evening hitting me like a ton of bricks and making me very tired.

  Watch out for Adam?

  Hmmm.

  I showered the club stink off, and as I thought back over the night, I was still glad I’d gone out. Did things go a bit far? Yep. But damn that Jack, when he wanted something, he got it. And that included an almost peep show on the dance floor. Images of what could have happened if someone had gotten that on their cell phone made me shiver, even under the hot water. Images of how he’d made me feel made me shiver again, for a very different reason.

  I wrapped my hair up in a towel, threw on a cotton nightie, and padded around the house while I waited for Jack to come home. I was a bit surprised he was still not here, but I knew Bryan would get him home safely. It was not uncommon for him to drive around for a while if he thought someone was following him. A sad but true commentary on our lives together.

  And you want this career too?

  I do.

  As I passed a mirror on my way to the kitchen, I stopped and scrutinized a bit. I saw where there could be a bit more cheekbone. I made a mental note to find a trainer this week.

  Tomorrow.

  I made another mental note to find a trainer tomorrow. Damn.

  I went into the kitchen, poured myself a glass of red, and headed out to the patio to wait for Jack. Curling up on the love seat, I let myself relax into the night. I had barely started to worry again about what was taking him so long when I heard a car pull into the driveway. Moments later I saw him walking through the house via the big windows that lined the living room. He made a weavy sort of path toward the patio. He knew where I’d be.

  “How’d everything go?” I asked as he stepped out onto the flagstone. His eyes were bloodshot, his feet heavy as he went to the chair opposite mine. He sat down heavily, slipping off his jacket and turning to me.

  “C’mere,” he said, his voice quiet but his eyes beginning to darken.

  “So . . . I take it everything went okay?” I pulled the towel off my head and shook my hair out a bit. “I was getting a bit worried, but I figured Bryan had you stay for a bit so you could—”

  “Grace?” he interrupted.

  “Yeah?”

  “C’mere,” he repeated, beckoning me forward with two fingers. I let myself be beckoned. As soon as I was close enough, he pulled me down onto his lap, pressing the entire length of his body to mine. Whiskey heat poured from his skin, dark and the tiniest bit dangerous.

  “I don’t want to talk about tonight,” he whispered into my skin, his jaw sandpapering my neck in a very good way.

 
“Don’t you think we should? I mean, what happens if—”

  “No more talking tonight,” he muttered, his mouth crashing down onto mine.

  His lips were sure and insistent, his tongue exploring my mouth with a need that was answered quickly by my own.

  His hands pushed up my shift, searching, needing, finding my skin. I shivered at his touch, not just from the chill of the night but because his hands on me always caused the same effect. I needed him, always.

  “I need . . . Christ, I just need,” he stammered between rough kisses on my lips, my cheeks, just under my ear.

  “What, love, what do you need?” I asked, arching into him, holding him to me.

  “Fuck, Grace, I need this.” He groaned, his hands strong and not at all gentle. I didn’t always need gentle. And he needed me.

  Deft hands made short work of my nightie, and he bent his head to my breasts, dragging his warm tongue across me, making me pant, making me need him even more. I straddled him, legs parting on either side of his. He brought me closer, pressing my heat against his as he rocked upward, nudging me farther apart as I groaned shamelessly. His eyes were wild as he gazed up at me, biting down on that lower lip in a way designed to make every thought I ever had about sexing it up outside melt away. Neighbors? Who cared, this was the canyon. Canyon sex was the best.

  I pushed up his shirt, hissing as I felt his warm skin along my own. Heat bloomed between us, wrapping us in our own little hot pocket of lust.

  Strong hands and calloused fingers shoved open my thighs. He found me instantly, being well acquainted with the landscape. My own hands scrambled to unbutton his jeans, raising up on my knees. This brought my breasts within reach of his lips again, nipples hardening beneath the work of his glorious tongue. I found him, hard and wanting in my hands. I twisted this way and that, seeking friction, any friction I could get, pressing his hands hard into my soft skin.

  “Fuck, Grace, I can’t wait,” he groaned, pulling me down on top of him, pushing inside me. I moaned loudly as he filled me, thick and wonderful. His mouth opened at my neck, teeth grazing and nibbling, then biting down hard as he pushed farther into me. I threw my head back, riding him, reveling in the strength he was using on me, his body owning my own, completely and totally. His thrusts were punctuated by his voice, delicious and dirty, raining down obscenities as he guided my hips into his, pushing and pulling me on top of him, impaling me with his body. I let his arms hold my weight, arching back. His hands imprinted into my skin, fingers grasping and leading me in his pace, fast and furious.