Hot Alaska Nights

by Lucy Monroe

  He said the only truth he could admit to in that moment. "We fit." Rock brought his arms up behind her and wrapped his hands over her shoulders to hold her in place as he increased both the pace and power of his thrusts.

  "Oh…" She gasped as he surged forward. "Yes. We fit!"

  Suddenly her brown eyes were locked on his with an intensity he couldn't ignore. "This is better than good, Rock." She gasped, went silent as he continued pleasuring her body with his. Then, she grabbed his arms, just to hold on. "This is right. Nothing has ever felt so perfect."

  He was tempted to just let the words go unanswered, but her emotional generosity deserved honesty. "For me either."

  She could have no idea how much it cost him to admit that, but this woman, she got to him in ways no one else ever had.

  Her gaze turned liquid. "Kiss me, please."

  He leaned down and pressed his mouth to hers, sweeping inside with his tongue, letting her feel the claim he was staking, no matter how temporary, and losing himself in the sensations that were so magnified with this woman.

  His balls tightened and Rock knew he was close. "Touch yourself. Come with me," he demanded.

  She let go of one of his arms and reached between them to touch her clitoris, her head dropping forward against his chest as a long moan snaked out of her throat. "Don't stop, Rock."

  "Not going to," he promised, hammering into her body reveling in the involuntary tightening of her vaginal walls around him as she gave herself pleasure.

  "I'm going to come!" She leaned forward, biting his chest and sending him over the edge with a hoarse shout.

  She convulsed around him, her keening cry music to his ears.

  His climax roared through his body, the ecstasy from coming inside her going on longer because of the way her vaginal muscles contracted around him. It was almost too good. Almost too much, but he was in no way ready to withdraw from her body.

  It took long moments before he came down enough to move away from her. Electric shocks went from his sex throughout Rock's body as he pulled out of Deborah's slick heat. She reclined on his desk, leaning back on her forearms, her expression completely satiated, her breath still shallow, her beautiful breasts on display, rising and falling in a gorgeous show of feminine beauty. Deborah made no move to get dressed, much less shift off the desk.

  She winked at him, even that movement languid. "I think there's a wet spot on your desk."

  Rock barked out a laugh. "Yeah, I'll take care of that."

  "You wouldn't want to leave it for Lydia to find."

  "Agreed." Rock walked on rubber legs to the bathroom attached to his office.

  He washed up before returning to his lover, a warm, wet washcloth in his hand. Deborah had not moved.

  "You going to take up residence in my office?" he teased.

  She yawned, her eyes heavy lidded. "I'm half tempted."

  Rock felt a smile crease his face as he tended to his lover, washing his spend from between her legs with careful movements.

  "You're a considerate lover, superman."

  He liked that she called him that. "I enjoy this and the fact you aren't embarrassed to let me."

  "It's intimate," Deborah said. "Just between us."

  He nodded. It was. As intimate as anything else they'd done.

  She gave him a considering look. "I wouldn't have said intimacy was your thing."

  "Unless it's sexual intimacy, it usually isn't."

  Her espresso gaze warmed. "But I'm special."

  "You are." Two admissions so close together.

  Rock waited for the sense of dismay to hit, but it never came. Deborah Banes had found her way behind his walls and for the first time in his life, he didn't panic at the thought.

  She let out a sound of pleasure as his fingers caressed the tender flesh he'd just cleaned.

  He didn't ask her if she wanted another round, he didn't comment on the fact neither of them were teenagers and this kind of marathon sex should be in their past. Rock just picked Deborah up and carried her to the sofa on the far wall. He sat down and pulled her into his lap, her back to him, sliding his thick cock, which had never gone completely soft, back into her welcoming heat.

  She rode him slow and easy, undulating her body, getting him fully stiff. He caressed her breasts, her stomach, her cheeks, her thighs, before concentrating on her clitoris, his other hand continuing its journey of mapping her body. This time, he brought her to a climax before lifting her and laying her on the sofa cushions, coming down on top of her again, and going back to making love.

  Rock held back from coming until she'd had her third orgasm. Then he let himself go, releasing his seed inside her, wondering for the first time with a woman what it would be like if she wasn't on birth control.

  What would having a child with this woman be like?

  She wasn't his mother. Deborah Banes would love her child and give it the attention every kid deserved.

  "You've got a strange look on your face," she said, her voice all lazy satisfaction.

  "I was thinking you'd make a good mom." It was the day for unprecedented honesty, he guessed.

  Her eyes focused on him, searching his face for something. "Even though I'm an actor?"

  "You're not my mom."

  "No, I'm not. I know what it's like to live without your parents' love. I'd never subject my child to the worry they weren't loved."

  He kissed her with all the emotion he might never give voice to.

  Still reeling from the amazing level of intimacy she and Rock had shared, Deborah finished dressing. "Rock?"

  "Hmm?" he asked as he did up his belt, his shirt still hanging open to reveal his yummy muscles. He'd already cleaned all evidence of their lovemaking from the desk and the leather couch.

  "I didn't actually come in here to get busy on your desk."

  Humor sparkled in his sherry brown eyes. "I never would have guessed."

  She grinned up at him. "Yes, well, I'm not complaining, that's for sure."

  "Glad to hear it." Oh, he did smug, satisfied male very well.

  She patted his chest, letting her hand linger for just a moment against hot skin. "Don't be arrogant."

  "I think it's integral to my nature." He captured her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing her palm.

  "I think maybe you're right." She laughed. "I like you anyway." Like wasn't the word she wanted to use, but this man? Would run a mile if she admitted the deeper feelings she had for him.

  No matter how fast they'd come. No matter how improbable. Her emotions were all in with the Alaskan businessman. She loved him.

  And as scary as that was, it was also really, truly wonderful.

  He reached down and caressed her butt, like he couldn't help touching her, squeezing a little before moving away to tug his pants on. "Good to know."

  She smiled at him, forgetting why she had come into the office for a second. Then she remembered and had to bite back a sigh. Who wanted to talk business, especially depressing business, after three mind-numbing climaxes?

  But seeing as how the man had a real habit of sending her body into the stratosphere with pleasure, putting it off wasn't going to work either.

  She settled into one of the chairs in front of his still empty workspace. "Our financial backer pulled funds from the movie."

  Rock's expression turned serious as he leaned his hip against the front of the heavy wood desk. "I'm sorry to hear that. Maybe Art and Elaine can convince the other backers to pick up the slack."

  "There aren't any," she lamented. "Mr. Barston agreed to fund the movie entirely, but only if no other investors were brought on board."

  "Nevin Barston is your angel investor?" Rock asked with disbelief.

  "Yes." Deborah frowned in confusion. "Do you know him?"

  "I know of him." And from the tone of his voice, what Rock knew, he didn't like.

  "What? How?" Barston might be obscenely wealthy, but he wasn't a big name in Hollywood, not famous enough to be known
in Cailkirn, Alaska.

  "He was married to Kitty Grant. Well her name was Barston when they were married. She's dating Tack MacKinnon, though I'm pretty sure no one else is supposed to know that."

  "Then, how do you?"

  "Sloan. He knows everything going on in this town."

  "Kitty Grant is a local?"

  "Yes, you've met her aunt. When we were in Cailkirn and her other aunt when we got our cookies."

  Deborah remembered the charming elderly ladies who believed she'd fit into the town, one of them still on chatting terms with her dead husband. "Okay. And this Kitty, relations to Cailkirn's elder denizens, is Nevin Barston's ex-wife?"

  "She is."

  Weird. "That's odd."

  "More than odd. I guarantee that piece of shit didn't invest in your movie with any kind of altruistic motives," Rock growled.

  Deborah played with her vest, bundled into a ball on her lap, then shook it out and folded it neatly. "I'd have to say not, considering he pulled funds."

  "For a movie that both Art and Elaine claim is so important to them, they've both made some unbelievable mistakes."

  Despite agreeing with Rock, Deborah felt she had to defend her bosses, who really were no slouches when it came to film-making. "Accepting a single angel investor isn't unheard of."

  "Trusting a bastard that beat his wife and had affairs shows poor judgement." Rock scowled. "He left her with nothing in the divorce."

  "How do you know all that?"

  "Slo—"

  "Your friend, the mayor," Deborah interrupted, shaking her head. "That man is a gossip."

  Rock shrugged. "He talks to me."

  "If you say so. Anyway, I'm pretty sure neither Art or Ms. Morganstein would judge a person's business trustworthiness by their personal life."

  "Then they're both fools." No doubt in Rock's voice, none at all.

  "Isn't that a bit harsh?"

  "Considering your movie isn't going to get made, I'd say not."

  "Not everyone has your brilliant business acumen," Deborah chided.

  "Both of them have too solid reputations for this kind of bad judgment to be the norm. I wonder what's different about this movie?"

  Deborah thought she knew. Because she'd done her homework on the principle executives in the film. "Art's son was gay."

  "Was? I didn't think that was something that changed."

  "That's not what I meant." Sadness at the remembered tragedy she'd read about made Deborah's voice softer than normal. "Samuel committed suicide when he was fifteen."

  "I'm very sorry to hear that. I can't imagine losing a child." Rock shook his head. "I guess I'm lucky all Carey did was take on a fake accent."

  She thought he knew more about grief than he gave himself credit for. "You lost both your parents."

  "Who were barely in my life. I had Marilyn and Carey to take care of."

  Deborah nodded. "And you did a really great job of it."

  "Thank you."

  "What about Elaine?" Rock asked. "Do you know why she let her common sense take a walk when planning for this movie?"

  "It's not as bad as all that." Both the director and producer had made a couple of bad choices, but they weren't stupid by any means.

  Rock just gave her a look.

  Deborah sighed. "Honestly? I don't know why the movie is so important to Ms. Morganstein, but I do know that it is. They're both emotionally invested in the story on a level you don't often see, even in Hollywood's indie industry."

  "With that kind of commitment, I'm sure they'll find other investors."

  "I think Art, especially, alienated some potential money people when he accepted the deal with Barston."

  Rock nodded with understanding. "His usual investors wouldn't have liked being locked out of an important production like this."

  "No. I don't think they did."

  "Well, if they don't do something, the movie is dead in the water."

  This is where things got complicated. "They wanted me to talk to you."

  "Me?" Rock's expression went from confused to thoughtful. "I've got some connections in Hollywood, but I've never recommended a film production to investors. You know why."

  "I do. And that's not what I meant either."

  Rock's expression went blank at that admission. "Maybe you better explain exactly what you do mean, Deborah."

  "The movie is good. You know that. We've talked about it, what this movie means both to Carey and to me, but more importantly, how good it's going to be. It's a good, solid investment."

  "You're asking me to take over as angel investor?" Rock's entire demeanor closed up, his jaw as firm as granite.

  "As an investor, yes, but not the only one." Deborah swallowed against her suddenly dry throat. "Think about it, Rock. I don't know what ROI you usually demand, but this movie is going to hit audiences in the heart. We're releasing over the holidays, it's already got slots at important film festivals. The video release alone is projected to bring in twice the investment in profit."

  Rock moved, stepping away from her and the desk. Only a couple of feet, but the distance between them felt like a chasm. Cold chills went up Deborah's spine, though she wasn't sure why.

  "Is that what this was about?" he indicated the desk and the sofa with a swipe of his hand. "Was all that sexual openness and generosity supposed to make me amenable to laying out a chunk of money for your movie?"

  "What?" she gasped out, unable to accept what he was accusing her of. Her heart felt like it was in a vice and he was squeezing it tighter with every second he looked at her like she was dog poo he'd stepped in. "No, you can't think that. You started it." She'd come in to the office intending to talk, but he'd waylaid her intentions with his passion.

  Couldn't he see that? He had to see that.

  Rock's mouth firmed into a flat line, his sherry gaze weighing her in a way he'd never done before this second. Not once had she felt less than in Rock's presence, but right now, she felt dirty. Like she had tried to manipulate him with sex.

  He crossed his arms over his chest, his usually warm gaze chilled. "I can't believe I was beginning to think we might have a future."

  "And you're saying now that we don't?" He'd been thinking about the future? She couldn't accept the way this conversation was going. It made no sense to her. "Because I asked a venture capitalist if he wanted to make an investment?" she added with heavy disbelief.

  "You know how I feel about the film industry."

  "I know how you feel about your parents, but they were not the whole industry. You love your brother. You love your sister. You're not rejecting them because they chose to go into an industry you say you have such antipathy for." Would he really reject Deborah the same way her parents had, for the same reason?

  Because it was okay if the people he loved did something he didn't approve of, but not her?

  "You just told me you wanted us to talk about our day on set at dinner," she reminded him.

  "That's a helluva distance from funding the movie," he said impatiently. "And it's not Carey asking me to bankroll his latest project."

  "I'm not asking you bankroll it! I asked if you would invest. Invest, Rock. That thing you've been successfully doing since your parents' deaths"

  "Why isn't Carey here doing the asking?" Rock's expression said he didn't believe the reason for his brother's absence could be anything that put Deborah in a good light. "Did he expect you to seduce me into it, too?"

  "No! No one expected that." At least Art and Ms. Morganstein had said they didn't and Deborah was going with that. "It's just, Carey didn't think there was even a remote chance you'd say yes."

  "And you disagreed."

  "Not entirely," she answered honestly. She'd thought the chances of Rock offering production funds would be extremely low. "I know you have an unreasonable prejudice against what I do."

  "You think it's unreasonable to see the ugly side of an industry that isn't all shining stars and glamour?" he asked with heavy disdain.<
br />
  "Of course not. I think it's horrifically unreasonable to assume we just had amazing sex so I could convince you to invest in that industry. I think it's unreasonable to ignore any of the positives in an industry that brings a lot of good into the world." Deborah paused for a second and then said what was causing her the most pain in the moment. "I think it's beyond unreasonable, it's demeaning to both of us, for you to look at me like I'm a whore simply for presenting an opportunity to you."

  Something flared in his sherry gaze, his eyes widening fractionally. "I did not look at you like you are a whore."

  "Then what?" It had sure seemed that way to her. "What else would you call it for me to use my body to get money out of you."

  "I… That's not what I meant…" He shook his head. "Why did you ask? You've skirted around it, but you haven't answered that question."

  "It wasn't my intention to skirt around anything. I asked because I believed there was a chance, however remote, that you'd see the possibilities and not get lost in your own dark prejudices. I asked because I needed to see that you didn't judge me by the career I've chosen. That this big part of my life wasn't a deal breaker between us."

  He opened his mouth, but she wasn't ready to hear what he had to say. Not yet.

  She put up her hand. "No. You asked. I'm answering. I came to you with this because of what we have and not the way you think. I don't believe for a minute you're a man who can be led around by his dick, no matter what my producer and editor might assume. But you and I are more than casual sex-buddies, we have been since the beginning, no matter what you are willing to admit. Damn it, Rock, I'm falling for you." Had fallen, but she wasn't ready to lay it all out there for him. "I needed to know that you weren't going to reject me for just asking. I guess I learned the answer to that question though, didn't I?"

  She moved toward the door, looking back at him with her hand on the knob. "Last of all, I asked, because it's my job."

  Rock opened and closed his mouth several times without anything coming out until he said finally, "You're not in charge of funding for the movie."

  "I'm on the production and directorial team. This movie was supposed to be my chance to establish my credentials for going to the other side of the camera."