A fiftyish man, jogging along the beach, did a double take on both girls and almost stopped.
“Married. Three kids. Cushy job,” Tina said, eyeing him up and down. “I could have him any time I wanted.”
“Men!” Summer said.
“Pricks for brains,” Tina said.
“You’ve got it!” Summer agreed.
And they both rolled on the beach in fits of giggles.
CHAPTER
27
LARA AND JOEY WALKED ALONG the seashore hand in hand, barefoot and completely at ease with each other. They’d eaten dinner on the back deck—light pasta and a green salad, accompanied by a bottle of red wine. After they were finished, Joey had said, “C’mon, we’re takin’ that walk along the beach you were going on about.”
“Great,” Lara had replied, her mouth dry with anticipation.
Now they were together, strolling along the damp sand, and she couldn’t stop thinking about what would happen next. It was inevitable that he’d make a move, unless she was reading something into their friendship that didn’t exist.
This was ridiculous, merely holding his hand was having a major effect. Talk about chemistry!
Halfway back to the house, he stopped and sat on the sand, pulling her down next to him. “Take a look at the moon,” he said. “Somethin’, huh?”
“Beautiful!” she sighed.
“Like you.”
“Thanks,” she murmured, wondering why her pulse was racing and she felt so light-headed.
“Hey, Lara,” he said, jumping up. “Let’s take a swim.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she replied nervously. “It’s dark and cold. You can’t see a thing.”
He laughed, stripping off his shirt. “You think the fish care?” he said. “You think they give a rat’s ass whether it’s dark or light?” He unzipped his pants, stepping out of them.
“You’re crazy,” she said, shaking her head. “You don’t even have a towel.”
“Miss Practical,” he said, teasing her.
“Well, it’s true,” she said, hating herself for sounding like the school prude.
“C’mon,” he said, pulling her up. “There’s nothin’ like the ocean at night. It’s like bein’ in a big, dark think tank.”
“I don’t have a swimsuit,” she said primly.
“Your underwear will do,” he said, standing next to her in his Jockey shorts, his clothes in a pile by his feet.
“What makes you think I wear any?” she asked boldly.
“Oh, you do,” he said, laughing at her. “I’d bet a thousand big ones you do.”
“Why’s that?”
“ ’Cause all good girls wear panties.” She couldn’t help laughing. “Let’s do it,” he urged. “You gotta live dangerously some of the time.”
“I . . . I can’t afford to catch cold.”
“Not into adventure?”
Her heart began racing. Joey had such an incredible effect on her, and she had no idea how to handle her feelings.
“Okay, so don’t do it,” he said. “But I’m outta here.” And before she could stop him, he raced into the sea, plunging headfirst into the breaking waves.
She stood on the moonlit beach, shivering. Join him, her inner voice urged. If you want something to happen, then do it.
She stepped out of her dress, tentatively approaching the cold water until the sea was lapping around her ankles. “Joey,” she called, staring into darkness. “Joey!” she shouted, edging farther into the surf.
She was almost up to her waist in water when he pounced. “Gotcha!” he yelled, grabbing her from behind.
“Oh my God!” she shrieked, shivering uncontrollably. “You startled me!”
“Follow me,” he said, taking her hand in his.
They waded out until the water was above her shoulders. “Now start swimming,” he commanded.
“Not too far,” she said nervously. “I . . . I can’t see anything.”
“Don’t sweat it,” he assured her. “I’m right beside you.”
She wasn’t the strongest swimmer in the world, but she trusted him, and he was right—this was an adventure. And why shouldn’t she have fun sometimes, instead of doing nothing but work?
They swam out in the dark water. They could feel the waves swelling around them, then lazily making their way inland, where they could be heard crashing on the shore. “Uh . . . Joey . . . I want to go back,” Lara shouted, starting to get nervous.
“Okay,” he yelled. “Turn around an’ follow me.”
She did as he said, and they began swimming toward the beach, struggling against a sudden undertow.
Lara swam strongly, but she soon found herself lagging behind.
“C’mon,” Joey yelled over the noise of the sea.
She was out of breath and on the edge of panic as she struggled to keep up. Oh, God! Tomorrow her hair would be full of salt water, her eyes red and bloodshot from the cold. She’d look a mess, and Yoko and Roxy would have to work hard to put her together. That’s if she ever made it to shore.
Something brushed against her leg. She let out a startled scream, her eyes wide with fear. “Are there sharks here?” she gasped.
“Sharks?” he yelled over his shoulder. “Yeah. Tons of ’em!”
She began doing a frantic crawl, trying desperately to catch up with him.
“Hey—stop freakin’ out,” he said, treading water until she drew alongside. “Guess what? You can stand here.”
Her feet touched the bottom, and she calmed down.
“C’mon,” he said, taking her hand again. “We’d better get you outta here before a shark eats you up!”
“Very funny,” she said crossly, gasping for breath as they staggered out of the water onto the damp sand.
“How are we going to dry off?” she asked, once again shivering uncontrollably.
“Body warmth,” he said, wrapping his arms around her and hugging her close. “It’ll do it every time.”
It was then she realized that somewhere between going in and coming out he’d lost his Jockey shorts.
She felt his hardness pressing insistently against her leg. “Joey . . .” she began. “I . . .”
He brought his lips down on hers, and all rational thought deserted her as he began exploring her mouth with his tongue.
It was finally happening, and she was powerless to stop it. What’s more, she had no desire to do so.
They kissed for a long time, kisses the like of which she’d never experienced. One moment his lips were tender, the next, strong and assertive, his tongue slowly caressing her teeth, making her shudder with the anticipation of what was to come next.
He didn’t rush things, he took his time, until she was silently begging him to touch her in other places.
Her nipples were erect, straining against the wet silkiness of her bra. She longed for him to undo the clip and touch her breasts. She’d reached the point of no return, a moment she’d been building toward for weeks.
He continued kissing her—long, sensual kisses that were beginning to drive her a little bit crazy. Weak with desire, she moaned, reaching down to caress him.
He removed her hand as if to say, Be patient. I’ll tell you when.
Although the wind was bitter, she didn’t notice. Every inch of her was on fire, all she could think about was Joey being inside her.
He treated her with extreme care. Lara wasn’t like other women. She was a beautiful princess who made him feel like a prince. Her prince.
From the day he’d set eyes on her he’d given up casual sex, saving himself for her.
Her mouth was so sweet. She tasted of all things good and fresh.
Ignoring the urge to throw her down on the sand and make hard, passionate love to her, he held back, curbing his appetite, because he knew he had to make this night extraordinary.
Very slowly he began touching her breasts.
She moaned again, thrusting toward him, silently urging him to release he
r from the confines of her bra.
He didn’t. Instead he began teasing her nipples through the flimsy material, stroking them ever so lightly.
“Take . . . it . . . off,” she mumbled, unable to stop herself from begging, frightened that she’d come before him, because she couldn’t recall when she’d ever been this aroused. “Please!”
He lightly brushed the tips of her nipples with his fingertips.
Feverishly she reached up, unclipping the front fastening on her bra.
Slowly he peeled her bra open, revealing her breasts. Beautiful, just like the rest of her. He cupped them in his hands. Then, pushing her to her knees, he began rubbing his cock against her erect nipples, moving back and forth between them, faster and faster.
“Joey!” She gasped his name, totally unaware of the cold wind and the gritty, wet sand digging into her knees.
“What?” he asked. “Tell me exactly what you’d like.”
“You!” she said, her breath catching in her throat. “I . . . want . . . you!”
He put his hands under her arms, picked her up and began kissing her again—long, torturous kisses—more pleasurable than anything she’d ever known.
Next he raised her hands above her head, while he bent his mouth to her left breast and drew in the nipple as if he were suckling milk.
“Ohhh . . .” Before she could help herself, she came with a series of shuddering convulsions that shook her body from top to toe. And he hadn’t even touched her where she craved to be touched.
He released her hands, pulling her to him. She snuggled against his chest, her body tingling with a deep, warm satisfaction.
“Was that good for you, baby?” he asked, stroking her hair. “Was it special?”
“God, yes!”
“Tomorrow it’ll be even better.”
“Forget about tomorrow,” she murmured, inhaling his salty, masculine smell and loving it. “Let’s go home to bed.”
“No,” he said, firmly. “You’ve gotta work tomorrow. Sleep comes first.”
“But Joey—”
He placed a finger on her lips. “Quiet,” he commanded. “Let’s get dressed before we freeze.”
They groped on the sand for their clothes, dressed hurriedly, and raced back to the house. She was expecting him to come to her bedroom, but he didn’t. He kissed her chastely on the lips and bid her a quick good night.
She was completely stunned that he would leave her, and yet she knew he was right; she did have an early call, and if he’d come into her bed, neither of them would have gotten any sleep.
She lay in bed, thinking about his face, his hair, his smell, the way he smiled.
Joey Lorenzo. Was he her destiny? Had she finally found the man capable of making her forget her past?
• •
Joey went to his room, restlessly paced around, then lit up a cigarette. So this is what he’d heard about all these years. This was love.
It didn’t seem possible that it had happened to him. He’d never wanted it, never expected it. Women were women, and getting laid was getting laid.
Now this. Christ! What was he supposed to do?
He’d wait until she’d left in the morning, then take off.
It was the only way.
• •
Lara’s alarm woke her at 5:00 A.M. She was so tired she could barely stagger out of bed. She immediately began sneezing and didn’t dare look in the mirror.
At work, Roxy greeted her with a caustic, “What in hell happened to your hair?”
“I . . . I went swimming in the sea . . .”
“Shit, Lara,” Roxy said, running a hand through her own spiky locks. “We’re gonna havta shampoo.”
Lara sneezed twice in quick succession. “Okay.”
“Don’t tell me you caught a cold?”
“Seems like it.”
“Great!” Roxy grumbled. “Now we’ll all get sick.”
“I promise not to breathe in your direction.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Yoko was not much kinder. Just as Lara had suspected, her eyes were bloodshot from the salt water. Yoko noticed immediately and complained loudly, then she made Lara lie on a couch with cucumber slices over her eyes for fifteen minutes, and after that she smeared a thick mud treatment all over her face.
By the time Roxy and Yoko were finished with her, she looked her usual gorgeous self. Unfortunately she was an hour late hitting the set.
Kyle was in a sulk, while Miles paced up and down, mumbling ominously under his breath.
“Glad you could make it,” Miles said sarcastically.
“Yeah, Lara, nice of you to honor us with your presence,” Kyle added.
“This is the first time I’ve been late,” she pointed out, thinking that all she wanted to do was complete the day’s scenes and hurry home to Joey. They needed to talk, discuss what was going on between them.
How had it happened so quickly? One moment they were casual friends—the next they were naked on the beach, and she’d wanted him so much she would have done anything he’d asked.
Oh God. Even thinking about him now she felt herself becoming aroused. The way he’d made her come . . . It was like he’d hardly touched her and she was ready.
Was she that desperate for a man?
No. She could have any man she wanted. It just so happened Joey was the one.
She thought about his well-muscled body, knowing eyes, the way he looked at her with such direct intensity . . .
“What are you smiling about?” Kyle demanded, startling her back to reality. “This is supposed to be a serious scene.”
“Uh . . . sorry . . . I was just uh . . . remembering something funny.”
“Didja get it on last night, Lara?” he asked slyly, nudging her.
She blushed. Was it written all over her face for the world to see? “Excuse me?” she said, freezing him out.
“Guess not,” he sneered. “The Ice Princess doesn’t do it, does she?”
At lunch break she borrowed Jane’s cell phone and called home. Cassie answered.
“Get me Joey,” she said, drumming her fingers impatiently on the side of the phone.
“He’s gone,” Cassie said.
“Gone,” she repeated blankly.
“Told me he had an emergency in the city. He’ll call you tomorrow.”
“What emergency?”
“Don’t know.”
“Did he leave a number?”
“Nope.”
“Well, why didn’t you get one?” She heard herself shouting and abruptly stopped. She shouldn’t take it out on Cassie, it wasn’t her fault.
“Sorry,” Cassie said, sounding hurt. “I didn’t realize it was that important.”
“It’s not,” she said, and clicked off the phone.
“Something wrong?” asked Yoko, who was standing nearby.
“Nothing,” she said, wondering how she was going to get through the night without him. “Nothing at all.”
CHAPTER
28
AFTER THE INCIDENT OUTSIDE THE Directors’ Guild, Alison Sewell appeared in court, and was sentenced to eighteen months in jail for stalking, aggravated assault and attacking a policeman.
Alison considered the whole thing grossly unfair. She wasn’t stalking Lara. She was her friend. Didn’t the morons get it? She was her fucking friend.
Why weren’t the dumb cops out arresting real villains? Murderers and rapists, child molesters and thieves?
Some stupid private investigator, hired by Lara’s business manager, had produced all the letters she’d written to Lara. Those letters were private and were for Lara’s eyes only. But the stupid investigator stood up in court and read extracts aloud for all to hear. Alison was furious.
Then Lara herself had gotten up and claimed that she, Alison Sewell, had been bothering her for months, turning up at her house uninvited, making over a hundred unwanted phone calls, trying to gain access to wherever she was working.
What
bullshit nonsense. All Alison had done was try to be her friend, and look where it had gotten her. Prison. Locked up with actual criminals.
She shared a cell with some loony who’d poisoned all the cats in her neighborhood. The woman seemed like a regular, nice old lady with white hair and a pleasant demeanor, until one night, when Alison was dozing, the old cow had tried to strangle her.
Her new cellmate was a bottle-blond hooker who’d stabbed one of her johns and now refused to speak.
This suited Alison fine. She had a lot of thinking to do.
Because when she got out, Lara Ivory was going to pay.
CHAPTER
29
THE PHONE REFUSED TO RING. For two nights, Lara stared at it, feeling like a lovesick fool, until she realized that—of course—there must be something wrong with the line.
She picked up the receiver. Perfectly normal dial tone. Slamming it down, she grabbed a book and attempted to concentrate.
Impossible. All the while a little voice kept chanting in her head, Joey . . . Joey . . . Joey . . . And she kept reliving their evening together in her head, fast-forwarding to the beach . . . the two of them running out of the ocean . . . falling into each other’s arms . . . the way he’d touched her . . . the intensity of her orgasm . . .
Oh, God! All she had to do was think about him and she was completely finished. She’d never felt this way with Richard. And as for Lee, he’d been merely a comfortable interlude.
As far as she was concerned their night on the beach had been magical. What was Joey’s problem?
Phillipa. That had to be his problem.
Phillipa. Could he have gone back to her?
She felt like an idiot. Joey Lorenzo entered her life and five minutes later she’d invited him into her house and practically begged him to make love to her on the beach. Now he was gone without a word of explanation. Joey Lorenzo. Where the hell are you?
The movie was finished. Cassie had packed up everything, tonight was the wrap party and tomorrow morning she’d be on a plane home to L.A.
Without Joey Lorenzo thankyouverymuch. And you’d better get used to it; he’s definitely history.
She was Lara Ivory—movie star. And in spite of the adulation and vast rewards, she was lonely. Achingly lonely. Haunted by her past and unable to forget. Somehow she’d thought Joey would change all that.
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