by Leslie North
The smart part of her knew she should let it lie. Not write back. Not indulge this heart-racing something any further than it had already gone. But she couldn’t ignore it, even if she knew it was best to do so. She scooped up her phone, writing her response.
“I got the upcoming scenes planned out. We’re going to work on the nursery. We’ll be able to comically butt heads.”
His response came quickly. “My baby mama is the best at butting heads. And knocking boots.”
Heat seared through her as she stared at his response. The subtle references to their epic sex ten weeks ago hadn’t let up at all. And each time it happened, she wondered: what if we just went there again?
Because another side effect of the pregnancy was an insane sex drive. And Melissa was rubbing one out each night, and sometimes in the shower in the morning, too.
And she’d never, not in a million years, ever admit to Donovan the truth: that it was his body, his face, his animalistic noises that she imagined. Every. Single. Time.
“You’re not supposed to be knocking boots with me. You’re supposed to be banging that house full of girls right now.” She frowned as she sent the text. She didn’t like this set-up anymore. Her attraction was getting harder to ignore. She tortured herself with thoughts of his pending hookup on the daily. Waiting for it to happen, as it inevitably would. And what might happen then?
A jealous brawl might break out for real. With Melissa leading the way.
“Come over.”
Melissa bit at her lip, checking the bedside clock. Nine thirty. She wouldn’t even make it to his house until after ten, even if she left exactly this second. And for what? To keep having this conversation face-to-face, so she could act like she didn’t care that Donovan was destined to fuck someone who wasn’t her, and probably marry them too?
She desperately wanted to go there. To run to him, to answer his beck and call.
But she also desperately wanted to be rational. To do the right thing. To make this as easy on herself as possible.
“I’m in bed. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She set her phone to Do Not Disturb and set it face down on the night stand. And then she climbed under the covers.
This show had just gone from complicated to ridiculous.
And it was only going to get worse.
9
Donovan scowled at the flat screen as he navigated his character through a dense thicket. He was helping beta test a new game for his company—one of the best perks of his job. The game was fun. No kinks. No quirks. No flaws, that he could see.
He really enjoyed it.
He just couldn’t stop thinking about Melissa.
Once he cleared the level, he sighed and tossed his game controller aside. The attic lounge was empty and dark, save for him and the bright glow of the TV. His phone read two a.m. He’d been avoiding sleep, partially because he knew it wouldn’t come, and partially because he was determined to get himself over this hump.
This hump called Melissa.
She was a speed bump, if anything. A speed bump in his quest to race ninety miles an hour until he reached the finish line. And if he raced over her as fast as he’d been going, everything would be ruined. He needed to slow down. Recalibrate. Take it easy.
And that’s exactly what he’d been doing. With a house full of horny women whose contracts depended on seducing him and stirring up drama.
He’d wanted this. It was exactly what he’d signed up for.
He just couldn’t stand it anymore. And the only person he felt even the least bit enthusiastic about chasing—Melissa—had sworn off him. He might be the baby daddy, but that didn’t matter to her.
Donovan leaned back on the couch, rubbing at his face. Why hadn’t she come over? Every inch of him begged to see her, to get more of her. Their business dealings weren’t enough anymore. This show was taking its toll, and she was the only safe harbor he had. The only place where he could just let loose, say what he wanted, crack jokes without second-guessing himself.
She felt it too. She had to. Donovan stared at the ceiling, imagining her in his mind’s eye. Like he did all the damn time at night. And in the mornings, when he jacked off thinking about that silky heat between her legs. The way she’d totally crumbled with her orgasms, the sticky sweet juice of her pussy something he could taste in his dreams.
Donovan turned off the TV and lay back on the couch, just intending to rest a bit before wandering downstairs. But he fell asleep, and quickly, rising only when his phone’s alarm bleated at eight a.m. He yawned and groaned, stretching out, finding all the usual kinks that came from sleeping on a couch.
He wandered downstairs, scratching at the back of his head. Cameras were already set up. Jasmine raced out of her bedroom, buck naked.
“Don’t look, don’t look!” she screeched.
He blinked, looking at the camera guy, then back at Jasmine. “I’m not looking. I swear.” But he was. He had to. How could he not? She paused in the hallway, sending him a suggestive look. Then she sauntered toward the bathroom door, curling a finger for him to follow her.
“I guess you can look after all,” she purred, pushing the door open. “Come in. Let’s have a wake and fuck.”
Donovan’s stomach pitched to his feet. He hadn’t hooked up with any of them, but the pressure was on. He knew it had to happen soon.
But maybe he could just make it seem like they hooked up.
Donovan stumbled after her, shutting the door behind him gently. She was all over him a second later, arms around his neck, her lips pressing kisses to his jaw.
“Hang on. Hang on.” He stilled her, gripping her arms by the sides. “I just woke up, Jas. I gotta brush my teeth.”
“But I’m so horny,” she pouted. He moved her to the side, reaching for his toothbrush. All of his stuff was in the shared bathroom during filming. Better for high jinks, they’d claimed. And if this wasn’t a high jink, he didn’t know what was.
“I hear you.” He held up a hand, then reached for his toothbrush. “Let a guy wake up first.”
She sighed, crossing her arms as he took his time brushing his teeth. He grimaced at her through a mouth full of toothpaste. Once he spit and rinsed, she was back at his side.
“Come on, baby,” she purred, smoothing her hands over his chest. “Give me what we’ve both been wanting.”
Melissa. He stilled her hands on his chest. “Actually, I gotta eat something. I didn’t even have dinner last night.”
She huffed, stomping a foot. “What is it? Is it me? Do I not look good enough?”
“You look amazing.” He pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead and let himself out of the bathroom. “See you later.”
Donovan hurried down the stairs, eager to get away from whatever the fuck that had been. Had he really just turned down a naked twenty-something in her fucking prime? He was insane. He was more than insane.
He was falling. Hard.
He didn’t want to think about it, though, so he just didn’t. He pushed the thoughts to the deepest recesses of his mind, where they could stay forever, for all he cared. If Melissa wasn’t into it, he couldn’t make her.
He’d stop fantasizing about their sex someday.
He hoped.
Melissa rolled up to the house around nine and immediately disappeared into her trailer at the front of the house. He knew, because he hung by the front door, keeping an eye out for her. Donovan busied himself with watering the front flowers. Waiting for her to come in and pass by.
He stretched out the watering task as long as he could, watering some plants three or four times. Finally, she stepped outside. Glasses sliding down her nose, a flowy top sitting low on her shoulders. She looked gorgeous. Dropping the hose, he straightened as she came over.
“Morning, Melly.”
She flashed him a grin, but it didn’t look sincere. “Hey, Donovan. Or should I say Stud-ovan.”
He lifted a brow while she laughed at her own joke.
“I just reviewed the footage from the morning so far. So you finally hooked up.” The smile had faded from her face.
“Uh…” he began. “That really didn’t—”
“I know. I know.” She waved her hand. “I don’t care. I mean, this is part of the job, right?” Her fake laugh told him she cared more than she wanted to let on. “People are gonna react, though. The fact that you picked Jasmine first.”
He blinked a few times, wondering how to handle this from here.
“But it’s a good maneuver, it gives me a good direction for future episodes.” She was speaking quickly, as if she was nervous or couldn’t wait to be done talking about this forever. “Hey. I was thinking. We should hammer out some of the co-parenting details now, don’t you think? Before this gets…I don’t know. Weird.”
Donovan wet his bottom lip. “Like it’s not already?”
She let out a tinny laugh, breezing past him. “Weirder, I should have said. See you tonight? Say, eight?”
He nodded, watching her head toward the front door. “Sure.”
She pushed inside without another word, the door slamming shut behind her. He stared at the closed door, his insides a strange cocktail of emotions.
Melissa had drawn a clear line in the sand. This was business for her. And it would remain that way.
Unless he could get her to give up the act.
10
Melissa’s hands were shaking as she headed toward her apartment door. The knock-knock-knock was a foreboding sound. Once upon a time, she’d enjoyed being around Donovan. Back when the banter was lighthearted and the conversation flowed easily and the sex was, well, epic and only a one-time thing.
But now? Every encounter with Donovan reminded her of one thing: he wasn’t hers. And he never would be.
Especially not now that he’d started banging the girls on the show. She needed to steer clear, so she would. Which was why they needed to get this contractual stuff settled now, before she totally lost her mind and fell headfirst into the hormonal quagmire that was the rest of the pregnancy.
She steeled herself before pulling open the door. But when she saw who was on the other side of the door, her jaw dropped.
The Mesmerizing Bellinis.
A.K.A. Mom and Dad.
“Honeeeeey,” her mom cooed, holding out her arms as she swept toward Melissa. Her dad beamed, his pencil-thin mustache always looking more out of place in the real world than under the bright lights of a circus tent.
“Mom and Dad.” She chuckled softly, welcoming their hugs. “What brings you here?”
“We were in the area for a scouting mission,” Mom enthused, breezing into the apartment. She dropped her oversized purse on the couch, pursing her lips as she assessed the small place. Melissa and her mom had always disagreed about decorating. Mom wanted loud, bright, expensive, while Melissa chose understated, earthy, and soft. “Trying to open up another west coast circus camp. And of course we had to come see our favorite daughter.”
“I’m your only daughter,” Melissa reminded them while her dad squeezed her into another hug.
“Of course, but who doesn’t also want to be the favorite?” Her mom’s megawatt smile reminded Melissa of her stage presence. That overly likeable, fit fifty-something who knew how to shake her ass and get a laugh. As the years wore on, her mother’s private presence resembled her stage presence more and more. At this point, Melissa didn’t know which had been cultivated first.
“Well, I’m glad to see you,” Melissa said, gesturing toward the couch. She hadn’t told them about the positive pregnancy test yet and had planned to keep it a secret for at least a few more weeks. Just to be extra sure that she was out of the first trimester. But with Donovan on his way, she had to figure out how to explain him when he showed up. She sure as hell didn’t want to pretend Donovan was her boyfriend, because then they’d never stop talking about him. Someone as muscular and drop-dead-handsome as him…well, they’d insist they marry on the spot.
And they’d be able to perform the wedding themselves. Dad was an ordained minister.
“I’m actually expecting someone,” Melissa went on, wringing her hands. Her skin had prickled, like a warning sign. Maybe Donovan was near. Wouldn’t that just be excellent? Carrying his baby had given her extrasensory skills. “But this is a nice surprise.”
“Oh, a special someone?” Mom asked.
“No. A work someone.” She offered a tight smile and then nearly jumped out of her skin when the thud-thud-thud sounded on the door. Shit. Her parents couldn’t have picked worse timing. She hurried toward the door, opening it a crack.
Donovan’s heartbreaking smile was waiting for her on the other side.
“My parents are here, and I need you to not mention the baby,” she hissed through the crack, leveling him with her gaze. “Okay?”
Donovan nodded, and she opened the door, gesturing for him to come in. In a loud voice, she said, “Oh, Donovan! Please come in!”
Donovan swaggered inside, looking like he’d just gotten off work. He still showed up at his office a few days a week, and those days were her secret favorite, seeing him in a loosened tie, black slacks, and a button-down with the sleeves rolled up. This evening, he looked every inch the casual businessman. His shoes snicked softly against the wood floor as he strutted inside.
“Hello!” He beelined for Melissa’s mom, offering a hand, and then to her father. “My name is Donovan. It’s a pleasure to meet both of you.”
Melissa’s parents introduced themselves, and her mom sent a very obvious wink over Donovan’s shoulder. Her mom was way too pleased with Donovan—exactly as she’d feared.
“Now hang on a minute.” Donovan rested his hands on his hips, peering back and forth between her parents. He was using his charm full force right now, she could feel it. Practically smacked her in the face. “I recognize you two. You guys are…” He snapped his fingers, his face lighting up. This was all for show. “The Mesmerizing Bellinis!”
Mom batted her eyelashes, playing the gracious part too well. Melissa bit back a smile. This was officially ridiculous.
The three of them chattered about circus life and touring for a while, before Mom leaned forward, pawing at Donovan’s knee. “Now tell us what you do. Mel Belle told us you’re a work colleague. Is that so?”
“Mel Belle told you that, did she?” Donovan swung his winning gaze her way, and she just blinked and crossed her legs.
She cleared her throat. “Sure did. Donovan’s the lead in a show I’m producing. We’re going over the scripts for tomorrow.”
“Scripts for the unscripted reality TV show,” her father moaned.
“Dad,” Melissa chided.
“You certainly look like the leading man,” her mom gushed. “Have you ever considered the circus?”
“Mom,” Melissa said, the annoyance more than evident in her tone.
“I’m just being honest. He has a very handsome face. If Mel Belle’s show doesn’t work out for you, honey, you’d always have a place in The Mesmerizing Bellinis.”
There it was: the familiar rush of emotion once she’d reached her breaking point. She hated having to constantly defend her career. To prove to her parents that reality television was just as viable and valid as what they did. Maybe Donovan could sense the overwhelming emotion, because he responded quickly.
“The show is already working out, actually. You both should be very proud of Melissa. She’s producing a real hit.”
Her mom and dad murmured something quietly. Melissa swallowed the emotion that had cinched her throat tight and said, “I appreciate you two visiting. But Donovan and I have a lot of work to go over. We should really get started if we’re going to finish tonight.”
Her mom sighed dramatically, coming to her feet. “Ah, well. I’m glad we got to see you at least. Can we get dinner tomorrow?”
Melissa nodded, walking them both to the door. They both pressed quick kisses to her cheek in the doorway.
“Marry
that man,” her mom said in a low voice, searing her with a look.
“Bye, honey,” her dad said.
Melissa shut the door behind them, gripping the knob for a few extra moments once they’d gone.
“So your parents are nice,” Donovan said a moment later. Something in his tone undid her. Laughter erupted from deep inside, and she collapsed into a fit of giggles. She leaned against the door until the wave passed, then made her way back to the couch.
“Yeah. Nice is one word.” Melissa shook her head, sitting on the opposite end. Sitting too close to Donovan didn’t seem wise. She feared her body might take her attraction into its own hands. Might start rubbing up against him against her will or something. She couldn’t trust herself anymore. “Now you’ve seen them for yourself.”
Donovan nodded, scooting an inch closer to her.
“They’ve just turned me off to the limelight,” she went on, trying to ignore when he scooted toward her again a minute later.
“Mm-hmm.”
“Why are you coming over here?”
“You’re so far away,” Donovan protested, bringing himself within kissing distance. “I can barely hear you all the way down there.”
She fought a grin. His leg brushed hers, and warmth flooded her. Damn this man. Damn this spotlight-hungry god and all the ways in which he thrived on the very thing she wanted to stay away from.
“Are you going deaf early?”
“Maybe. We might need to test Donny Junior for it.”
A snort escaped her. “Listen. Let’s stay on task.”
“I am on task.” He gestured to the folders on the coffee table in front of them. “You’re the one hurling insults.”
Another laugh escaped her. She hated how funny he was. How easy to get along with. Hated it as much as she loved it. “Saying you’re going deaf early is hardly an insult. It’s just something to bring up with your doctor.”
“You know what I don’t need to bring up with my doctor?”
She narrowed her eyes, already sensing where this was going. “What?”
“Erectile dysfunction.”
