“You might be, but I won’t,” he assured her. “I have another shoot I’m flying out to in two hours. So unless you want to be excluded from these promo shots, get your butt over here.”
“Well, why didn’t you say something?” Ellie objected, making fast tracks to join them.
Frankie threw his hands in the air and muttered, “Right. Why didn’t I say something?” He flagged Jimmy. “I need Meagan and Rick in ten minutes.” He turned back to the group and spoke to one of his assistants, who arranged Darla and the other judges like flowers in a vase. Darla, then Ellie, then Lana, with Jason positioned behind them to offset his six foot-plus height. Frankie fired off a good two dozen camera shots, and then glanced around the room, waving a hand in Jimmy’s direction. “We need Meagan and Rick here now.”
“Meagan,” Jimmy said, rushing forward as he punched his headset and spoke into it. “You’re late. We need you here now or we can’t get the—”
“I’m here!” Meagan yelled, rushing into the room, clearly flustered. Darla noted Meagan’s white jeans and white Stepping Up shirt. Meagan’s casual attire was a reality check for Darla. She was making herself insane, obsessing over the craziest things, like clothing, when the rest of the judges weren’t even dressed up. Evidently, the pressure was getting to her more than she’d realized.
“We have one of two,” the photographer complained. “Where’s Rick?”
Rick. Darla heard the name and was glad for it. She was really ready to get on with the auditions and the kids with their dreams. She loved casting. She loved that this show let her toe that water again.
“Rick isn’t coming,” Meagan announced. “He had an emergency and he won’t be here today at all.” She turned and called out, “Blake! We need you for photos. Hop on over here.”
Blake? Darla thought. Why would Blake be in the photos?
“Why is Blake in the photos?” Lana asked, thinking the same thing.
“I’m supposed to have Rick in the shots,” the photographer corrected quickly. “I don’t see anything about Blake.”
“Blake is filling in for Rick,” Meagan explained. “I need promo shots for the first show. I want Blake in these shots.” She glanced at the group. “And before you ask, I have ideas to spin this Blake and Rick switch-up for ratings. That’s all I’m at liberty to say now.”
Blake stepped to the side of the set, to Darla’s direct right. “You sure about this, Meagan?” he asked, looking as puzzled as the rest of the group.
“Absolutely,” Meagan said, using the same word Darla had earlier with Blake. “Details will be discussed when I don’t have a thousand people waiting on us outside a hotel.” Blake glanced at Darla and then back to Meagan. “The women on this show sure like that word.” He shrugged. “I’m easy. I can go with the flow. Where do you want me?”
Frankie motioned to Blake, “Next to Jason.”
Blake headed toward the group. Darla quickly turned away, afraid her desire for this man was written all over her face. He stepped behind her and her nostrils flared with the scent of him, warm and spicy, so richly male, so familiar. His hand slid discreetly to her waist and she barely contained a gasp of surprise at what most would consider a casual touch, a posing stance. No different from the way Jason had his arm draped over Ellie’s shoulders. Darla knew, though, that Blake’s touch wasn’t any more casual than the desire sizzling through her.
Meagan rushed forward and squeezed in between Darla and Ellie. She leaned into Darla and touched her head to hers. The camera flashed. “How you doing, sweetie?” Meagan whispered.
“I’m good,” she replied softly as more flashes went off. “What’s going on with Rick?”
“Surgery for a broken arm,” she explained. “He hasn’t even made it to Colorado yet.”
“You’re kidding?” Darla asked Meagan. “Will he make the next show?”
“Face the camera!” the photographer yelled.
“Oh, ah, sorry,” Darla said and quickly posed.
The photo shoot wrapped and Darla and the judges headed to the audition room. “Darla,” Blake said, gently touching her arm to get her attention before she could get away. She swallowed hard at the impact of those piercing blue eyes that never seemed to lessen. “Don’t think about the camera or pleasing an audience,” he said, his voice a caress for her ears only. “This isn’t live and the auditions won’t even be shown for another six weeks. Think about the contestants, about doing what you did last season, and picking the best contestants. Forget everything else or you’re going to make yourself crazy.”
Darla softened inside, surprised by his words. So very right. “That was absolutely what I needed to hear right now.” Someone called her name, and she backed away, hesitating to leave, wanting him to know… There seemed to be something she needed to say. She heard her name shouted again.
“Thank you, Blake.” Darla rushed away, but silently vowed not to let him leave tonight without a proper goodbye. She was smiling, rather than fretting, when she walked into the audition room.
* * *
FOUR HOURS AFTER THE AUDITIONS started, Blake finished an interview with a joyful, crying seventeen-year-old girl who was chosen for the finals. She was the last candidate for now. During the next hour and a half, there’d be prescreening of candidates while the judges were given a chance to eat and take a break.
Beaming at the excitement of the girl and her family, Blake decided he loved this job, and he planned to tell his agent just how much.
Seeking Meagan, Blake stepped inside a small room where the cameras were recording the action in the audition room. Meagan stood in front of a row of monitors, watching the live feed from the judges as it played on the screens.
“Why must you ask every contestant about their dreams and goals?” Lana demanded of Darla. “We simply need them to dance well.”
“We’re looking for stars,” Darla said. “People who have drive and ambition. There’s a reason why Jason is so respected in the industry, why Ellie is in demand by big-named stars to choreograph. They’re special.”
“She’s right,” Ellie said. “I like hearing people’s stories. I’ve worked with a lot of talent. The ones who make it have certain qualities.”
“Hear them after we see them dance, and once they make it to Vegas,” Lana argued. “We have a huge line of people out there and not enough time to see them all.”
“That’s why Meagan has a team of screeners making sure we only see the best,” Ellie argued. “The ones we see can dance. But can they become success stories? That’s up to us to decide.”
“If we send them to Vegas and they have no personality or career potential,” Darla added, “then we’ve wasted time and money. The top twelve are going to be living in the contestant house with a live camera on them. We have to pick people who can become reality television stars or people won’t tune in.”
“We did fine last season,” Lana said tightly. “You need to respect what worked.”
Darla drew in a long breath and Blake could see her biting back words. “Tell her,” he said softly, stepping to Meagan’s side. “Tell her you cast the winner of last season and most of the top twelve.”
Meagan glanced at him, then back at the screen, seemingly waiting right along with him. But Darla didn’t tell her. She stood up and said, “We’ll have to continue this argument later. I need to check in with my producer back home and make arrangements for filming my show.”
Blake scrubbed his jaw. “I don’t get it. She’d never let me get away with that. Why didn’t she tell her she was the primary casting agent last season?”
“I don’t know,” Meagan said, still watching the screen. “Her confidence isn’t where it normally is. Something is up with her.” She glanced at him. “You got anything to do with that?”
“Me?” he asked. “How would I have anything to do with it?”
“You tell me.”
He opened his mouth to deny his guilt but shut it again, remembering the incident with
Lana in the hallway. Surely, Darla wasn’t so worried about a scandal created by Lana’s big mouth that she was afraid to stand her ground with her. Then again, he wasn’t sure what was behind it, but Darla was almost irrationally worried about losing this job before she even got started. Especially so, considering her own show’s success. He wanted to know why. He wanted to know a lot of things about Darla—and not just what made her moan and sigh. Those things were high on his list, but so was discovering what made her happy and sad, what made her afraid of flying. Hell. He wanted to know what her favorite food was. Actually, he was pretty sure that would be chocolate.
Blake watched the screen as Darla walked toward a door that led to a private hallway, and he felt himself stir inside. This woman got to him in a big way and the last thing he wanted to do was create turmoil for her. But he couldn’t step back from her without knowing what she was doing to him.
“What’s her cell number?” he asked, grabbing his phone from his belt.
Meagan considered him a moment and then recited the number by heart. He was already turning away and hitting the call button by the time she said the last digit. Darla answered almost instantly. “We need to talk and we haven’t got long,” Blake said. “It’s important. I’m about to be at the other hotel waiting on you. By your door.” He hung up before she could decline, cringing as he thought of just how mad he’d probably just made her.
He was going to have to do some fast talking to get on her good side.
10
BLAKE QUICKLY LEARNED THAT MAD wasn’t quite a strong enough word to describe Darla’s reaction to his maneuvering her to meet him. She rounded the corner of the bank of elevators, found him by her door, and hit him with a look that could have flattened the entire building. Her cheeks were flushed, her spine stiff, and her eyes as sharp as knives. She stormed towards him, her room key in hand, and she didn’t say a word as she stepped next to him to swipe it. He could smell the floral scent of her perfume—jasmine, he thought—and taste her anger. He could feel his desire building at a fairly inappropriate time, for a completely inappropriate reason. She turned him on when she was hot and fiery. She was hot and fiery, and she’d shown none of that in that audition room with Lana.
She rushed inside and grabbed his shirt, pulling him with her. His body reacted to the touch, his cock pressing against his zipper. Damn, when had he ever wanted a woman this badly?
“Are you freaking nuts? What kind of stunt are you trying to pull? I didn’t sign up for this, Blake. Someone could have seen you. Someone might have seen you!”
Blake’s plans to talk went right out the proverbial window, his desire for Darla getting the best of him. “Yes,” he said, backing her against the door, his legs framing hers and his hands twining into her hair. “I am nuts. Nuts about you.”
“Blake,” she hissed, splaying her delicate fingers over his chest, scorching him with heat that set his heart to pumping. “I’m furious with you. Don’t you understand?”
“I get that,” he murmured, lowering his lips to a whisper above hers. “It appears it turns me on. So much so that I’m quickly forgetting I came here to talk.” His mouth met hers, claiming the kiss he wanted. She didn’t respond immediately—her body was rigid and her hand still flat on the solid wall of his chest. But she didn’t push him away and there was just a hint of a moan sliding from her mouth to his.
Blake caressed a palm over her backside. His tongue gently coaxed hers into responding, just a little kiss, a little moment of escape.
“Damn it, Blake,” she said gently. Then her tiny moan became a full-out sound of pleasure and her body relaxed into his. The hand resting on his chest traveled upward and wrapped around his neck, the other around his waist. Her tongue caught his, hot and sweet, and eager. He melded her closer, absorbing all her soft curves into his hard body. And he was hard. So hard it hurt to even think about leaving this room without finding his way inside her. She moaned again, her arms wrapping around him, as if she couldn’t get close enough. And she couldn’t. Not in his book. “This doesn’t mean I’m not furious with you,” she promised. “It just means that—”
“I know,” he said, his cock pulsing thickly against his zipper. “I want you, too.” He kissed her and, this time, he didn’t even try to hold back. His tongue plunged into her mouth, taking it, claiming it. Claiming her. A taste of honey among the bitterness he hadn’t even realized had been eating him alive. This business had gotten to him—the people, the wants, the demands of money and fame. Darla had broken through all of that and she hadn’t even tried. She was just herself—and that was unique in his world.
He reached under the silk of her tank, pulled down her bra and fingered her nipples. She shuddered with pleasure, her nails digging into his shoulders. He pushed the shirt upward. “Take it off before I get impatient and ruin it.”
She tugged it over her head, leaving her with only her pale pink bra and rose-tipped nipples peeking out. “We can’t be late back to set.”
“We won’t be,” he promised, unhooking the front clasp of her bra. “Hard and fast.” He teased her nipples, sucking them lightly. “But next time we’re going slow and hot. You have my word.”
Her hand went to his zipper, tracing his throbbing erection. “Who says there’s going to be a next time?” She unsnapped his jeans and the next thing he knew she had her hand on his cock.
He groaned, both from her touch and the way she challenged him. Lust jolted him. He pressed his hand to the wall above her head. “There’s going to be a next time. You can count on me doing whatever is necessary to convince you of that fact.”
She massaged his shaft, her fingers trailing along the top, spreading the dampness gathering there. “Not if you manipulate me to get me to my room, or anywhere else, ever again.”
“We needed to talk,” he defended. “And you wouldn’t have come any other way.”
“Your talking isn’t a good idea,” she warned, pressing his boxers out of the way and freeing his cock. It jutted forward, thick and pulsing, and she lowered her lashes, inspecting him, stroking him, driving him freaking wild, before her gaze lifted. “Talking is just going to make me mad again. And before you say you like me mad, you should know that mad may or may not include me kicking you out of my room.” She slowed her movements, then sped up again.
He barely contained a groan. It felt as if liquid fire was burning through his veins. “Though I do think you’re insanely hot when you’re mad, I sure as hell don’t want to get kicked out of the room right now.” He closed his hand around hers. “Keep touching me just like that and I’ll shut up.” He moved against their joined hands. Her lashes lowered again, her attention on his cock, her tongue biting her bottom lip. It was official. She still hated him and was tormenting him to death. Death by lust. She stroked him harder, faster, and he quickly realized he was further gone than he thought. Too far gone to have her touching him like this if he was going to last—and that sure wouldn’t get him a take two. And he wanted a take two, three and four—and whatever and wherever that led. He wanted this woman in his life. But he couldn’t convince her by pushing her. Not now, at least.
He brought her to the foot of the bed and held her tight, pressing his lips to hers, her bare breasts teasing his chest. He would convince her with pleasure. The kind two people who felt something special for each other could make. “You have on too many clothes.”
“So do you,” she murmured just before his mouth came down on hers in a searing kiss that burned with a possessiveness so new to him, it threatened to unravel any control he still possessed.
She lifted his shirt upward, scraped her teeth across his nipple, then tongued it softly. “Take this off before I get impatient and ruin it,” she ordered, repeating his command. “This time you’re not getting away with leaving anything on.”
“Believe me,” he assured her. “I want nothing more than to be naked with you, sweetheart.” Naked and tearing down your walls, he added silently. He kissed her and then
set her away from him, immediately tossing his shirt aside.
They stared at each other a moment, stared at the clock, then back at each other. One hour left. One hour would never be enough. In silent agreement, there was a frenzied rush of undressing. Blake made it to his socks and then forgot everything but Darla—standing before him gloriously naked. Her breasts were high, full, with pebble-tight cherry nipples. Her hips were slender, her skin ivory perfection. Every second he was with her, she seemed to grow more beautiful. He stepped toward her.
“Wait,” she said, holding up a hand then pointing at this feet. “I said everything off this time.”
He didn’t argue. He was too hot and too ready for her. He had his socks off in seconds and pulled her into his arms, lifting her. Her legs wrapped around his waist, the wet heat of her core warming his stomach. Lust tore through him, the desire to bury himself inside her and get lost was almost too much to resist.
“Tell me you have a condom,” she panted, apparently feeling what he was.
“A half dozen,” he said, carrying her to the dresser.
She pulled back and gave him an incredulous look. “Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you?”
“It was one or six. I chose six. But yeah, I’m hoping you’ll let me convince you we need all six sometime in the near future.” He settled her on top of the dresser and slid his fingers into her hair. “What do I have to do to make that happen?”
She pulled back and stared at him, more of that raw innocence he found so appealing swirling in the depths of her stare. “I don’t know… I…”
He leaned in and gently kissed her neck. “We’ll talk about that later.”
He inched her knees farther apart, skimming his palms up her thighs, taking in the blond curls and pretty pink flesh, glistening wet with desire.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, his gaze lifting to hers. “Perfect.”
Her cheeks flushed. “Blake,” she whispered shyly. He loved that about her. The way she ordered him around one minute, and then turned sweetly vulnerable the next.
Follow My Lead Page 8
