“But we don’t really talk about anything. We fight. And make out.” Her teeth grazed her lower lip. “Not that I’m complaining.”
“We’re talking now.”
“So we are.” She dabbed at the corner of her eye. “It’s kind of nice.”
“It’s a whole lot nice.”
She stepped out of his arms, refusing to meet his eyes, and he could sense she felt awkward about the emotions she’d displayed. “Can I ask you something? While we’re talking and all.” Or maybe she felt awkward about what she had to say next.
“Shoot.”
“The, uh, spanking and stuff.” She crossed behind the armchair before turning to face him, leaning on the chair back as if she needed the support. “Are you, like, a Dominant?”
So she’d been doing some research. Interesting. “I like to dominate. But I’m not a Dominant.” Not that he’d ever tried it, but it seemed like too much work and planning. He was more for the impulsive. “I don’t go to sex clubs or any of that crap either.”
“Then you aren’t expecting me to, um, you know, wear a collar and kneel in front of you and let you tie me up while you whip me and stuff?”
“Well, you’ve already knelt in front of me of your own accord.” He loved that he could make her blush so easily. “And tying you up sounds like a whole helluva lot of fun. But no, I’m not into the collars or whips or chains or any of that Mistress/Sir shit. I like to be in charge. And I like it rough.” He gave her a sly smile. “I’m willing to try new things if that’s what you’re into though.”
“No!” She nearly jumped with her emphatic denial. Her color deepened, and when she spoke again, she was calmer. “No, that’s okay. I just wanted to know what I was in for. If we had sex again, I mean.”
“Oh, we will.” He didn’t think she could blush any further but apparently she could. Damn, she looked good all pink. He needed to touch her. Crossing to her, he held out his hand. She took it, surprisingly, and he led her to the couch where he sat before pulling her next to him.
His arm around her, she leaned into him. It was instantly comfortable and easy. He played with her hair, wrapping it around his fingers and releasing it again. “What about you? How do you like your sex?”
“I’m not really sure anymore. I’ve never been a prude. I mean, I’ve always liked sex. But I was raised to believe…” She paused and he could hear her swallow. “My father acted like kissing guys made me a whore. It put a damper on a lot of my sexual experiences because there’s always this guilt thing hanging over me.”
No wonder the spanking had bothered her. “That’s tough.”
“Yeah. It is. The sex itself hasn’t always been as fulfilling as it could have been. I’ve never experimented because of the guilt. Always stuck to the basics.”
He wondered briefly what basic meant. Like, missionary only? But she’d moved on before he could ask.
“And the guys I’ve been with have been…” He grimaced at the thought of her with other men. “I don’t know…gentle. Overly gentle. As if I needed to be served or adored or whatever.”
“They treated you like a princess?” He chuckled.
“Don’t even…” She sighed. “Yes.” Lifting her head to look at him, she said, “Now you’re going to say it’s because I act like a princess so what do I expect, right?”
“Not at all. It’s because you act like a princess that I think you need to be a little bit manhandled.”
“I think you’re right.” She pivoted her body and draped her legs across his lap. This was nice, they could face each other more easily now.
“So then, with me. I know it was only the one time, but was it missing anything?”
“It was. It was missing a proper ending. I shouldn’t have freaked.”
“We’re past that. No worries.” He rubbed his hand up and down her leg, delighting in the goose bumps that rose on her arms. “But before the ending…?”
“It was good, Seth. Really good.”
“Fulfilling?”
“Yeah.” She lowered her eyes. “Though there could have been kissing.” Her eyes lifted again to meet his. “I like kissing.”
“I do too.” They held the gaze for several seconds. And then talking about it wasn’t enough. He had to kiss her. He leaned in toward her and she, understanding, brought her face in to meet his.
Just before their lips met, they heard a sound behind them suggesting the security guard was returning for his next round. It broke the mood.
She shifted out of his arms and stood. “I need to be getting home,” she said. “I have lines to work on. And I should really get in a workout before bed.”
He stood too, stuffing his hands into his pockets so he wouldn’t be tempted to reach out for her. He could give her a workout, and he almost said as much, suspecting she might even want an invitation not to complete her to-do list. But even though they’d been talking about sex, the current conversation seemed quite different from their usual naughty flirtation.
He had another idea now. Rocking back and forth from the balls of his feet to his heels, he wondered if he should just say goodnight or run with the wild hair he’d gotten up his ass.
The wild hair won. “Would you want to do this again sometime? The talking without belittling each other.”
Heather tilted her head. “Like, a date?”
“Yeah. I suppose that’s what it’s called.”
Big brown chocolate eyes branded him. The way she stared at him—stared into him—it was like getting a tattoo with all the same burn but also a whole lot of euphoria. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had that effect on him. Was that why he was so crazy over her? Taking a job several steps below his skill level, lying and hiding the truth. Practically stalking. He didn’t deserve to have anything with her let alone what they’d shared, but he couldn’t stop himself from wanting more.
Heather took a deep breath. “Can I think about it?”
Well, he shouldn’t have expected anything else. She needed time to deal with her conflicting emotions. It had taken her ten days to seek him out after they’d had sex in her trailer, after all. He could give her time. “I hate that you have to. But I suppose you can.”
His eyes didn’t leave her. He couldn’t stop staring—she grew more beautiful the longer he looked. He couldn’t have designed a more enchanting specimen if he spent his life trying.
She blushed under his gaze. “What?”
There was only one thing he wanted at that moment. “Can I kiss you?”
“That seems so weird for you to ask after…everything.”
“Well, it seems we’re on new ground. I’m not sure what the rules are here.” He felt like a teenager. Awkward and horny.
“Me neither.” She lifted her head up. “But yes, you can kiss me.”
He leaned in slowly, taking his time. When his lips met hers, they moved together without destination, without need to get off. It was like a first kiss. Tender. Deep. Sweet.
“Goodnight, princess.” He’d started her nickname as a way to mock her snootiness. But this time when he said it, he meant it as a term of endearment.
He watched her as she walked off the set toward the parking lot, his chest aching with each step she took.
Chest aching? Term of endearment? Was he falling for Heather Wainwright?
Aw, shit.
He’d asked her on a date. Seriously? Heather didn’t date. Dates were too difficult— paparazzi and fans fawning over her. They wouldn’t have any privacy. All the media outlets would purport them as an item. Was she ready for that? To be paired with Seth in front of the whole world?
No, she wasn’t.
But she wanted to get to know Seth better. And wasn’t that what dating was supposed to be about? Figuring out if you wanted to be with someone. Getting to know them before you had to make those decisions. It wasn’t fair that her life didn’t allow her that simple cultural norm.
She chewed her bottom lip as she climbed into her trailer.
After shooting a text to Lexie, telling her she was ready to be picked up, she curled up on her couch with her script to work on her lines.
But she couldn’t focus, her mind still on Seth. She could have stayed with him while she waited for Lexie. He might have even offered her a ride. More than one kind of ride. The thought sent a shiver down her spine. She was already so needy and turned on. Maybe she should have let him get her off after all.
Except she needed to take this slow. Well, slower.
As she’d told Lexie she would, she’d researched about sex and spanking, learning a lot that had opened her eyes. Wide. She wasn’t so ignorant to not know about the whole Dominant/submissive world and the punishments that went with it, but that had never interested her. Still didn’t. Beyond that, she’d thought spanking was abuse. That the men who spanked their women during sex were the same assholes who got 911’d for beating on their wives. She’d seen a lot of that in the trailers—poverty could turn people to their worst selves. It drove some to drink like her mom. Some it drove to drugs like her dad. Some it drove to be just plain mean like half the people in her park.
But when she’d read the websites Lexie had given her, and then Googled sex and spanking and found hundreds of articles about regular, everyday couples having rough sex all the time, she had to swallow her pride and admit she was uniformed with a capital U. She’d always been into hair-pulling and nail-clawing, but she’d never dared to push that further. And, apparently, the men she’d been with didn’t either. Seemed that her always being in control had some serious downfalls. Like never getting to learn new things. New things that could possibly be enjoyable.
So now she was intrigued. She wanted to explore this recent discovery. She wanted to explore it with Seth. But she was still timid about it, and that’s why she’d let her evening with him end. Besides, she’d liked the note they’d ended on.
With him asking for a date.
She lay back with a sigh, her script open against her chest. A date wasn’t impossible. It would take careful planning to ensure they kept it under the radar. They’d have to meet somewhere. Somewhere discreet. She wouldn’t want to don a disguise. Somehow disguises always seemed to attract more attention. But if she put enough energy into it, she could think of a place that wouldn’t require that level of hiding. A simple excursion. Maybe a picnic at a park. Or hiking.
Or she could just let Seth handle the planning. That was how dates usually went, after all. The one who did the asking made the arrangements. Could she trust him to manage the details required to maintain discretion?
If she couldn’t, then there was no point pursuing a relationship with him.
A relationship with Seth.
My, but she liked the sound of that.
Eleven
The next day, Heather didn’t lose sight of Seth. In the week-plus that she’d avoided him, he’d been everywhere, but she hadn’t given herself permission to notice. Now she did. Damn, was it an improvement.
Her acting also improved. She would have imagined that being focused on him would be a distraction, but it wasn’t in the least. Instead, she felt more relaxed—more comfortable with herself than she had in ages. Her lines flowed, her scenes were perfection. She was “on.”
And her mood was decidedly brighter. She didn’t dread off-camera time like she often had before, spending it bantering with the crew and her costars instead of hiding in her phone. Even Bobblehead—um, Natalia—seemed less annoying. Her excessive cheerfulness was somehow easier to stomach when Heather was happy herself. Knowing that Seth wasn’t into the younger actress might have helped a bit. Helped a lot.
She didn’t actually get to speak to Seth until lunch. She’d planned on seeking him out—strategically, of course, so as not to draw attention—to let him know she’d go out with him. But first she stopped at the catering table knowing the selection would be slim if she didn’t get in early. As she searched for a lunch that fit into her daily calorie limit, she felt his presence behind her. She knew it was him without turning around, her body tensing with pleasure, her arm hairs standing on end as if to announce his presence.
“Is there something I can help you with?” he asked as he reached over her, his voice making her thighs clench.
“What do you mean?” She selected a chef salad and pretended to decide between yogurt flavors. Normally, there was no deciding. Strawberry was her choice, hands-down. But right now she didn’t give a flying fig about yogurt. Unless she was licking it off of Seth.
He moved beside her, grabbing two bottled waters. “I thought maybe what you wanted to eat wasn’t on this table.” Damn, could he read her mind? “Since you’ve been staring at me hungrily all morning.”
Her cheeks heated. Hopefully he’d been the only one to notice. “You’re not cocky at all, are you? Wait, don’t answer that.” He’d have some sexy comment about his cock. And she really didn’t need to be thinking about his cock right then. They were alone at the table, but not so alone that she could jump him.
Alone enough to talk, though. Or flirt. Whatever it was they did. “All right, I might have been staring. I was just thinking that I haven’t had the opportunity to see you with your shirt off.” And that a date might be a way to fix that.
He grinned at her, his blue eyes gleaming. “Is that something you’d like to see?”
“Very much so.” Her inner voice screamed something about taking it slow, but Heather wasn’t listening. Once she’d made up her mind that Seth was who she wanted to be with, she wanted him now. To hell with taking it slow.
“I can think of ways to remedy that.” He leaned in closer and quieted his voice to a raspy whisper. “For example, if we were the only ones here, I’d strip you down and have you grab onto that pipe right there.” He pointed to a lighting track that had been lowered to allow the crew to adjust the lights. “While I fucked you senseless.”
So much for not thinking about Seth’s cock.
“Sounds…awesome.” She was breathless just thinking about it. “But how does that remedy me seeing you without your shirt on?”
“I could agree to be naked too.” God, he was adorable. “I, uh, I talked to Natalia, by the way.”
His quick change of subject almost threw her for a loop. “To Bobblehead?” Since she’d been watching him all morning she already knew. She’d also seen how Nat’s energy had been a bit down in her scene after that. How much of a bitch was she that Nat’s broken heart made her happy?
“Yes, to Bobblehead. She didn’t seem much of a bobblehead after I talked to her, though. Had to tell her that I was sorry if I’d given her the wrong impression, but that I sorta have a thing with someone else.”
Heather swallowed her glee. “Sort of have a thing?”
“It’s undefined.”
“Hmm. Interesting.” More than interesting. He’d followed through on what he’d said he’d do. He didn’t have to do that. It wasn’t like he’d promised. And he really didn’t owe her anything. But, he’d done it anyway, and wow, did it feel good.
“Thank you, Seth.” She met his eyes. “I’ll have to think of some way to repay you.”
Seth reached across her again, picking a box marked as a roast beef sandwich. “I have condoms.”
For half a second she got excited. Until she remembered. “I have tampons.” Her period had started that morning. What timing.
“I told you, blood doesn’t bother me.” Abso-fuckin-lutely adorable.
“You did say that.” She’d dated other guys who didn’t care. It was usually her that called period time off limits. She could do the same now, make him wait. Renew her decision to take it slow.
She could do that.
Or she could bring up the date he’d asked her on.
Instead, she found herself saying, “My scene after lunch requires a total make-up and hair redo. I’ll need a shower first.” She paused only long enough to know for sure that she really wanted to say what she said next. “Join me?”
He gave her
the sexiest smile she’d ever seen. “You know all you have to do is ask.”
“That’s right. How could I forget?” If she stayed this happy, she’d for sure have to get Botox to rid her of smile lines.
Out of the corner of her eye, Heather caught movement—someone walking near them. She turned back to the catering table, hoping it looked like her conversation with Seth had been casual. Yeah, she wanted to be with him, but privately. And in her life, privacy was not something she took for granted.
The person walking by stopped. “Seth Rafferty?” Heather inconspicuously looked toward the man who owned the voice. “Wow, good to see you. It’s been ages.”
Seth seemed surprised, maybe even worried, to see the man who was a stranger to Heather. She gave the new guy a quick once over. He was dressed business casual, expensive watch and wedding ring. And the sunglasses propped on his stiff head of hair were designer. Not part of the crew, but maybe someone on the producer level. She placed him in his late thirties, which could easily mean late forties with a good plastic surgeon.
“Brandon.” Seth’s voice, though friendly, seemed unnatural. He shifted his bag and bottles of water to the crook of his arm so he could offer his hand to shake with Brandon. “God, it has been forever.”
“Since Time of Night. Yeah.” Heather recognized the movie title, a suspense film that had come out several years before. Seth must have been on the crew. She could look it up on IMDB later. Maybe if she found out what this Brandon guy did on that film she could figure out the strange tension that had begun when he showed up. Or she could just ask Seth later.
“So what brings you here?” Seth asked, redistributing his food to both arms.
“Our company is producing Girl Fight. It was my turn to stop by and check things out.” Brandon’s eyes raked up and down Heather’s body. “And things look good from where I’m standing.”
Did he think she didn’t know he was looking at her? She was two steps away and not stupid. One of the cons of her job—people thought she was an object instead of a real person. It really sucked sometimes.
Star Struck (Hollywood Heat) Page 12
