Only for You

by BETH KERY

It shamed her to think of how stupid she must have sounded to him. Sleep was not going to come easy tonight.

  She caught a big shadow moving from the side of her vision and stifled a scream.

  “Shhh, it’s me,” Seth said.

  “Seth?” she asked, startled. Relief and trepidation surged through her. Why had he come? She felt the mattress give as he sat at the edge of it. “What are you doing?”

  “I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about what I said on the porch.”

  “Me too,” she admitted in a hushed tone. She squinted into the darkness. She could just make out the shape of his broad shoulders and head.

  “When I said I’d never ask you to sacrifice anything, I just meant—”

  “I know what you meant,” she said in a rush. “You were reminding me that we’d decided this relationship was going to be about the here and now. Why would you ask me to give up something permanent because of our temporary arrangement?”

  He paused. “No, that’s not what I meant.”

  Her heart fluttered. “It isn’t?” she asked cautiously, propping up her upper body on her elbow.

  “I just meant that I’d never ask you to sacrifice anything for me, let alone acting. I’ve seen how passionate you are about it. You’re meant to be an actress. I’ve never met anyone who was so perfectly destined for something. But more importantly, it makes you happy. And when it comes down to it, I want you to be happy, Gia.”

  Her throat went tight with emotion. His admission had been so sweet. She felt too overwhelmed to speak, so she reached for him, finding his forearm in the darkness. She slid her fingers over his warm skin and found his hand. He moved in when she pulled him toward her. He came down next to her on the bed. They both lay on their sides, facing each other. She absorbed him with skimming fingertips across his jaw, neck and bare chest. His breath caught when she trailed her fingertips over his taut abdomen.

  “I owe you an apology,” he said, his low, gruff voice raising bumps on her neck and forearms. He cupped her waist warmly. “I do get frustrated sometimes when I think about your life and mine. I get irritated at your job because it feels like something that separates us. But I realized just now, it’s not your job that’s doing that. It’s me.”

  “But I like you,” she said in a choked voice. “I like your low-key modesty about your brilliance as an artist and your independence and your need for privacy. I like how you care so much about family and want to keep them safe. I love those things about you. I would never ask you to change those things either, because I’d be asking you to be something you’re not.”

  “Shhh,” he soothed, because her voice had cracked at the last, and he could probably feel her trembling as she touched him. He pulled her closer with his hand at her waist. Their bodies brushed together, the feeling sublime. Exciting. Her nipples tightened against the thin gown she wore. She pressed them against Seth’s hard chest, sighing in pleasure. His mouth found hers in the darkness. He caught her small sob with his lips. As usual, his kiss was deep and possessive, demanding all her attention. He was hot and tasted so damn good. She abandoned her fears and anxieties, sacrificed them to the heat of need. All those insecurities and worries were nothing to the sudden flash fire that leapt between them.

  “Maybe it was selfish of me in the theater, but I crave you giving yourself to me, Gia. All I want to do is drown myself in you,” Seth said roughly. Her neck prickled as he pressed his lips to her skin.

  “I do give myself to you. Completely,” she said, her hands moving anxiously over his bare, muscular back. “Here and now, you have everything.”

  He groaned roughly and pressed her closer to him, devouring her mouth. His hands moved down over her body, finding the hem of the short nightgown she wore. She lifted her hips slightly, and a moment later he broke their kiss while he whipped the garment over her head. Then his mouth was back, hot and consuming. His hand moved beneath her underwear, cupping her pussy warmly before he began to apply an ideal pressure and move in little circles. She moaned her pleasure into his mouth.

  Suddenly he was breaking their kiss and pushing her onto her back. His shadow rose over her, and he pulled her panties down her legs and off her feet.

  “Spread your thighs,” he ordered.

  When she did, he moved between them on his knees. She saw his shadow lower, a frisson of excitement going through her. He swiped the tip of his warm tongue between her labia.

  She cried out, her fingers delving into his thick, smooth hair. He nuzzled her with his nose as he slid his big hands beneath her ass, lifting her slightly to him . . . keeping her in place.

  Then he proceeded to hold her at his mercy while he ate her.

  After a moment, she shook in climax beneath his merciless tongue. He lapped up her juices like they were his due. He pushed his tongue high into her slit, and then applied a hard pressure on her clit with his lips, amplifying her climax, stretching it out masterfully. He sucked, and her desperate cries grew even wilder.

  A moment later, she melted into the mattress, panting.

  “That’s right,” she heard him say, licking her smooth labia in a manner that was both soothing and incendiary. “I’m addicted to your orgasms. I’m addicted to this sweet pussy.” She felt him pushing back her thighs, so that her hips rolled back. He held her legs over her body by pressing his forearm at the back of her knees. He immediately plunged his tongue into her slit and fucked her with it, his manner hungry and lewd and forceful.

  “Oh God,” she moaned, rocking her hips against his mouth. He cupped her ass, holding her in place as he dipped his tongue into her pussy. Every once in a while, he’d focus on her clit, lashing it with a stiffened tongue, before he’d plunge into her again. Gia had no choice but to lie there and accept every ounce of dizzying pleasure he gave her. The moments were so intense, his desire for her so focused and strong, it was like he was trying to tell her something without words, pressing it into her, scoring it into her quivering flesh.

  Her nails scraped against his head as she rapidly began to crest again to climax. “Hold on a moment,” he said.

  She blinked in disorientation, because his heaven-sent mouth was suddenly gone, and her legs were falling as he scrambled on the mattress next to her. She heard what sounded like the bedside drawer open.

  “Seth?” she asked shakily.

  “I’m coming right back,” he said in tense voice.

  He meant exactly that. A few seconds later, he’d again pushed his forearm behind her knees and rolled back her hips. She gasped when his tongue immediately was giving her clit a good, hard rub. She furrowed her fingers into his hair and keened. It felt so good.

  “I’m going to come,” she mumbled after a moment, mindless with pleasure.

  He cupped her bottom from below, his middle finger burrowing into the crack. Her eyes sprang wide when he penetrated her ass.

  “Ohhh,” she cried out in shock when he began to finger-fuck her smoothly. He’d gotten the lubrication from the drawer. They’d left it there last night. He tongued her clit ruthlessly, shifting his face ever so subtly back and forth. His finger plunged into her ass at a brisk pace.

  She screamed as a powerful climax slammed into her.

  “I won’t make a habit of doing this twice in twenty-four hours,” she heard him say through the darkness and her haze of pleasure. “But I’ve wanted to be naked again inside you all day. All I can think about is coming deep inside you.”

  She felt his hard cockhead press against her ass. Like last night, when he first pushed his cock into her, there was a flash of pain. She whimpered, pleasure and pain mingling. “Remember what I told you,” Seth said from above her. “Push back on my cock.” She did it and he slid deeper. “Ah, that’s good. Stay still a moment.”

  When he’d entered her, she’d still been in the position she’d been in when he ate her so ruthlessly. Her hips were still
rolled back, but now Seth was in a kneeling position behind her, his back straight. He held one of her ankles in front of him, keeping her leg in the air as he began to pump, gently at first.

  She moaned shakily, and this time, it wasn’t in pain. It felt so good. There was a darkness to his possession . . . a desperation, as if he knew their time together was reaching an end.

  She couldn’t bear the thought. She reached, finding his hip, urging him with her hand.

  “Harder,” she pled.

  “Jesus, Gia,” he grated out. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  Her nails dug into his tensed buttock. “I’m asking for it. Fuck me hard.”

  A low growl rumbled in his throat. He swung his hips, his pelvis smacking against her ass. She bit off a scream. He ground his balls against her ass, his cock throbbing deep inside her.

  “I’m not going to last,” he bit out. “You feel like you’ve got a fever, you’re so hot.”

  “I don’t want it to end.”

  “Neither do I, honey. Neither do I.”

  He began to fuck her slow and deep. Her face pulled tight at the pressure and friction. The moment felt electrical, full . . . intensely erotic. His pelvis began to smack rhythmically against her buttocks. She felt him much more acutely in her ass. Despite the fact that she’d said she didn’t want it to end, her body strained for release. She urged him with her hand on his ass. He gave a guttural growl and grabbed her other leg. He held both her ankles in the air, keeping her hips rolled back, and gave her what she had begged for.

  She screamed, the sound of it vacillating as Seth plunged into her and their bodies crashed together. She hadn’t told herself to do it, but her hand was moving feverishly between her thighs.

  “I’m going to come,” he told her, sounding wretched at the fact.

  But she’d already sensed it, they were so attuned at that moment. She felt his cock swell inside her, and she grimaced, her hand moving faster between her thighs. His body went rigid. His groan sounded pained as he began to come. She hated the sound of it. She loved it. His warmth filled her, and she shuddered in her own release.

  Afterward, she stared into the darkness, panting, feeling strangely both utterly sated and bereft at the same time.

  This thing with Seth was going to kill her. Her desire for him was so sharp, it hurt. Why did the sweetest things in the world also have to be the most painful?

  * * *

  The next day, Seth seemed as subdued as she was. What had happened in bed last night seemed to hover around them, their lovemaking a poignant reminder of what was special between them. Seth was very tender with her all day, almost as if he thought she were ill or something.

  Or as if he cherished her very much.

  The day was gray and blustery, the wind so fierce it blew half of the leaves off the trees, exposing skeletal branches. Seth made a fire and Gia curled up in a chair near it, reading. He silently worked on sketches of her. Every once in a while, her cheek would tickle from his intent gaze on her face. She would look up, and they would share a smile.

  These moments with him were so different from their fierce lovemaking. These, too, she wished would never end.

  “Are you working on more sketches for the Eleanor makeup?” she asked him once, while she took a break from reading.

  He grunted, scrunched his eyelids together and tossed down his pencil. “It’s no use,” he said.

  “What’s no use?” she asked, sensing his frustration.

  “I can’t get you the way I want you. It’s like . . . part of you always eludes me.”

  “I’m one hundred percent right here. I assure you,” she replied softly. He blinked and met her stare, his frustration fading.

  “You know what I think?” she asked.

  He shook his head.

  “I think you’re frustrated because you’re hungry.” She stood briskly. “I’ll get us some lunch.”

  She made them grilled cheese sandwiches and salads. Afterward, they returned to the fireside, the warmth of the fire and the sound of Seth’s pencil scratching on his sketch pad lulling her. It felt wonderful, to be so relaxed and yet so aware of his attention focused on her, to have her senses so piqued by his nearness. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes.

  “Gia?”

  “Hmmm?” she purred contentedly, turning her face toward him.

  “Would you let me draw you nude?”

  Her mouth fell open in surprise. “What does me being nude have to do with the Eleanor makeup?”

  “Nothing.”

  His steadfast reply vibrated in the warm air between them.

  “It’s just that . . .” He faded off, frowning. Again, she sensed the frustration of a perfectionist who felt he was performing beneath his standards. “Ever since I first met you years back, I’ve been trying to figure out the magic of you. If I could only capture a hint of it, I’d be a happy man.”

  “With your pencil, you mean?” she asked, amazement flavoring her tone.

  “Any way I can,” he replied gruffly. Their gazes held in the taut silence. She sensed he had meant with his powerful lovemaking, as well. “I’ll never let another soul see the sketches,” he said. “I promise.”

  “I’m not worried about that.”

  She stood and began to undress.

  “Where do you want me?” she asked awkwardly a moment later, standing before him, naked.

  He merely waved at the chair and ottoman where she’d been reclining. She lay back, feeling both exposed and excited by his tight stare on her. Seth stood and moved to the far corner of the couch to get a more straight-on view of her. At first she was tense and hyperaware because of the novelty of the situation. Slowly, the warmth of the fire on her naked skin and the hushed, soothing sound of Seth’s pencil made her muscles go soft and relaxed. She studied his face and saw his hallmark rapier focus. She’d been silly to imagine he was considering this situation sexual, just because she was naked. He was an artist, after all, and in those moments, she was his subject. Still, it was a singularly sensual experience for her, to feel herself the target of his gaze and attention. Her eyelids grew heavy, and she drifted off to the sound of his scratching pencil and the crackling fire.

  She awoke to the sensation of his hands moving along the sides of her rib cage. Her nipples drew tight.

  “Seth?” she mumbled sleepily.

  “Your skin is like warm silk,” he murmured, his gruff voice washing over her and awakening her nerves. He cupped her breasts from below and shaped them gently to his hands. “Is it all right?” he asked her simply, meeting her stare.

  “More than all right,” she murmured. He stood and leaned over her, one hand sliding beneath her hips, the other pushing her against his chest. He lifted her. She saw that determined, familiar look on his face as he carried her. He lay her down on her back on the soft couch and began to unfasten his jeans, his gaze on her face.

  A moment later, he was coming down over her, his cock slowly sliding home. She panted for air, gritting her teeth. She’d been wrong to think that he’d merely been the cool, detached artist as he drew her. His cock was huge and throbbing and clearly very affected. The knowledge moved her.

  At first, he remained still while fully sheathed in her pussy.

  Then he braced himself on his hands and began to move. She saw so many things in his eyes. They remained silent as he masterfully built the friction between them though.

  Words couldn’t contain what she felt in those moments.

  Twenty-one

  Later that afternoon, Gia heard Seth on the phone in the kitchen. Her ears pricked when she heard him say her name. She had a pretty good idea who he was talking to. A minute later, he walked into the living room where she sat.

  “Was that Charles?” she asked him.

  “Yes.”

  Dread went though
her when his gaze skated off her. “What is it, Seth?”

  “The trial is going to begin on Wednesday.”

  “This Wednesday?” she asked, stunned. He nodded. “But . . . Madeline said a week from next Monday at the very earliest.”

  “I know. But it’s like Madeline said from the start, trial proceedings can be erratic in a high-profile case like this. Judge Halloran suddenly got a bee in his robes, apparently, and moved things up. Madeline wants you there as quickly as possible, so you can go over your testimony. The jury is going to be sworn in on Tuesday, opening statements will begin on Wednesday. You’re expected to be there, although you probably won’t testify immediately.”

  Gia couldn’t speak. It was like something vital had been ripped away from her without warning. She didn’t have much time with Seth, save these few remaining days and nights, and then their hours on the road home. And those were going to be stolen from her as well? She turned her head, not wanting him to see the tears welling in her eyes.

  “What are we going to do?” she asked, straining to keep her voice even.

  “Charles is arranging a flight back to Los Angeles for tomorrow afternoon. I’ve also put in a special request in regard to you, and Charles told me that request has been agreed to by United Studios.”

  “What?” she asked, bewildered.

  “I asked that during the trial, you be allowed to stay in one of the Bunker Hill condos the studio keeps for visitors. It’s situated in a luxury tower, and it’s known for keeping its high-profile residents very secure. It’ll be safer for your police escort to protect you there. Plus, you won’t have to worry about driving back and forth from Bel Air to the downtown courthouse every day. The press is going to be even more rabid than it was before the trial began. I don’t want another incident where you’re run off the interstate. I spoke to Joshua Cabot about the possibility of you staying there a few days ago, and he arranged it all.”

  “Will I go back to Los Angeles as Jessie, or me?” she asked, even though what she really wanted to know was, Are you going with me? Are we never going to see each other again? It seemed impossible—soul-killing—to consider they might not. Everything they’d shared was about to evaporate into insubstantial memories?