His hand worked the zipper of my jeans and he bent away for a moment to slide them off and toss them to the floor. He climbed between my legs and pressed into me again. I cried out as I felt him through the fabric of the towel and my thin panties, but there was still too much between us.
The towel needed to go.
I slid my hands down his back to his hips and tugged the offending article free. I dropped it to the floor beside the bed and Gavin lifted his head from my breasts in question.
He didn’t ask out loud, but I nodded my consent and he reached for a packet in the bedside drawer before disappearing off the side of the bed. When he reappeared, he kissed between my breasts and down my stomach, his tongue dipping beneath the waist of my underwear. I moaned his name and he slid my panties down my legs and threw them out of sight.
As he moved back up my thighs, he planted kisses on each side, taking his time to cover every inch of skin until he landed right between my legs.
His tongue teased and swirled inside me, making me writhe against the bed and whimper. I reached down and tugged his hair to bring his attention higher and he obliged by trailing kisses up over my belly and back onto my breasts, his hand working where his mouth had just been.
The room swirled around me and I moaned and tightened around his fingers. He tensed at my reaction, his eyes closed. He licked his lips and kissed my neck.
“Gavin, please,” I murmured. “I need you, now.”
He nipped his way up my collarbone and sucked on my earlobe as he positioned himself over me. He gave me one more questioning look until all I could do was beg.
Gavin’s tongue dived into my mouth at the same time he plunged into me, and it was the only thing stopping me from screaming.
Being with Gavin was beyond anything I’d ever felt with anyone before. Stars burst before my eyes and I squeezed them shut, giving in to the feeling of Gavin rocking in and out of me.
When the moment finally came, I screamed his name as loud as I could, for once in my life not caring who heard me.
• • •
“I can’t believe I slept with Gavin Hartley,” I said the next morning as I snuggled down farther between the soft white sheets, lazily swirling one finger over Gavin’s chest.
“Uh-oh. Does this mean now that you’ve used me, you’re going to leave?”
“That sounds more like your MO than mine.”
“Ouch.”
Gavin lay sprawled on the bed on his back and I’d settled onto him, propping my chin on my hand so I could see him clearly. The morning sun streamed through a crack in the gray blinds, casting a line of yellow down his toned stomach. I traced the light with my finger, smiling at the gooseflesh that rose in its wake.
We’d spent most of the night gravitating between sleeping and learning everything we could about each other’s bodies. I was pretty sure he’d found every spot on mine that made me shudder and spasm with pleasure with just a touch of his finger or the graze of his tongue.
I floated blissfully beneath the covers, and everywhere our bodies met created a wonderful hum through my skin.
“Can I ask why?” I said.
“Why what?”
He had one arm draped over his eyes, the same way I’d found him on the couch the morning after the party.
“Why were you . . . with girls for the publicity? So they would help your status?”
His arm left his face and went behind his head to prop him up. He studied me for a moment and I pulled the blanket tighter around me.
“I guess I was just afraid,” he said.
“Afraid of what?”
“Afraid I wouldn’t be famous like Jess had wanted. I couldn’t let her down. I was willing to do whatever it took. I’m not exactly proud of most of it.”
“And now?”
“Now what?”
“Well, you’re with me. I have no pull in propelling you to fame. Why are you with me?”
His hand snuck out from beneath his head and brushed my cheek. “Because none of that really matters when I’m with you. You remind me of the one thing Jess really wanted me to be. More than she wanted me to be an actor.”
“What was that?”
“A good person. A happy person. After Jess died, I had a hard time finding excitement in anything. You bring that out in me, Elise. That ability to see the good in people and the hope of finding happiness again. I like who I am when I’m with you.”
“I like who you are when you’re with me, too.” I burrowed my cheek into his chest and closed my eyes. His breath rose and fell below me, lulling me with its steady rhythm. “Do you have a picture of her? Your sister?”
Gavin shifted beneath me and reached for his phone on the end table. He shimmied higher in the bed and I went with him, pulling myself up with one hand on his waist. One of his arms came around me to slide across the screen of the phone and I shifted so my back was against his chest and I could see it.
His fingers touched the photo album icon and the screen flooded with images, mostly candid shots of the set or red carpet events. He skimmed through pictures with other celebrities I recognized.
“I always thought you looked hot in a tux,” I remarked appreciatively as an image of him at some awards show winked past. His body vibrated beneath me with laughter.
He stopped scrolling and pressed the button to enlarge an image of a teenage girl. I drew a breath. She looked so much like Gavin, with the same deep-blue eyes and dark hair. But instead of his chiseled jaw and angled cheekbones, her jawline was rounded and feminine, her cheeks flushed with life. She laughed at the camera, her eyes sparkling on the other side of the screen.
I swallowed against the lump that had risen suddenly in my throat. “She’s beautiful.”
He nodded against the back of my head and flicked his finger across the screen again to pull up another picture. The same girl was in it, but she had her arms around the shoulders of a young Gavin. She was whispering something into his ear as he grinned back at her. The smile on his face was easy, not like the ones he sported for photographers or the director. He must have been about sixteen in the picture, but the smile made him look younger. Free.
Neither of them looked at the camera. It was as though the photographer had plucked the photo out of a regular moment of their life and stamped it on the screen.
I peeked behind me. Gavin stared at the picture, his mouth a half smile. “She must’ve been a wonderful sister.”
“She was.”
Gavin clicked off his phone and set it back on the end table. He shifted me so I straddled him and we were face-to-face. I clutched the blanket over my chest and his eyes followed my hand. “How about you? Any siblings?”
“Nope. Just quiet, mousy me.” He started to laugh and I pouted down at him. “What are you laughing at?”
You called yourself quiet, he signed.
Of course I am, I signed back, struggling to hold the blanket up with my elbow. We aren’t even talking out loud.
He smirked. You were pretty loud earlier.
Is that so?
Yes. I think I bring out the noisier parts of you.
Grabbing my hips, he pressed up into me. I gasped, completely proving his point. He ran his tongue along the line where the sheet met the slope of my breasts.
I shivered and arched my back, giving him a devilish grin. “Well then, let’s see if I can return the favor.”
I dropped the blanket.
• • •
You sure you’re ready to do this?
Yes, I want her to know. Just stay close.
Try getting me to go anywhere.
Gavin and I stood outside my dorm room. He sported a Fernbrooke U hoodie I’d brought with me for him and a giant pair of sunglasses. I would’ve thought the disguise was too flimsy to fool anyone, but not a single student stopped us as w
e walked from the parking lot to my dorm. I took a deep breath and opened the door.
“Hey, Reg, okay, I don’t want you to freak out, but I have something to tell you. I—”
I stopped halfway into the room. Reggie sat on her bed, eyes red and face tinged pink.
“Reggie, what’s wrong? Did something happen with Clint?”
She looked up at me, and her eyes flashed with anger. “You’re a liar. You’re a fucking liar.”
I took a step back and held my palms out. “Reggie, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Gavin earlier. We just wanted to see where it went. I didn’t think you’d be so upset . . .”
“This has nothing to do with him. I don’t care what you do with him. But how could you lie to me about this?”
That was when I saw it. My laptop beside her. Open. The manuscript for the last Viking Moon book sprawled across the screen.
“Reggie, what are you doing with my computer?”
“Mine conked out,” she said. “I needed to finish a paper for today, so I borrowed yours. You know, you really shouldn’t use ‘Gavin’ as your password.”
I glanced at Gavin and my cheeks warmed before I turned back to my roommate. “Reggie. I can explain.”
“What? Are you gonna try to tell me it’s just fan fiction or something?”
“Well—”
“No.” She slammed the laptop shut and stood. “Because I found them all, Elise. Or is it Aubrey? Every draft of every book, all neatly organized into folders. I mean, Jeez, Elise, you told me you hadn’t even read them and you fucking wrote them. What’s wrong with you?”
“Calm down, Reggie. Please, let me explain.”
She didn’t even seem to notice I’d spoken. Her face was so close to mine, I could smell the coffee she’d had earlier on her breath. Reggie picked up one of my books from her side of our desk and flipped it to the back. She jabbed a finger at Veronica’s picture.
“And who the hell is this? She’s in on it, too, huh? Coming in here and claiming she wrote the books. God, you even had him fooled.”
She motioned to Gavin, and my heart dropped to my heels. I’d forgotten he was there and had heard everything. I couldn’t bring myself to look in his direction.
I stepped toward my roommate. “If you’d let me explain—”
“Why? So you can lie to me again? Tell more of your stories? No, thank you.”
Reggie grabbed a gym bag from beneath her bed and began throwing clothes into it.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
She threw two non-matching socks into the bag and glared at me. “I’m staying with Clint for tonight. When we get back from Thanksgiving, I’ll get the rest of my stuff and move out.”
My throat tightened and I reached for her arm. “Reggie, please don’t go. You don’t understand. I didn’t think any of it would matter. When I wrote the first book, I was so embarrassed by who I was, I sent them someone else’s picture to use. Someone random—I didn’t even know Veronica until a few months ago! Then they started filming this show and I . . . I just panicked. I thought I had to keep up the charade or I’d lose everything.”
Reggie zipped the bag shut and rounded on me. “You could’ve trusted me. I would’ve kept your secret. I am—was—your biggest fan. Now, I can’t even look at you or your stupid books.”
She grabbed the second Viking Moon book from beside her bed and tossed it into the metal waste bin beneath the desk.
Hot tears slipped down my cheeks, but I made no move to brush them away.
“Please don’t,” I whispered.
She pushed past Gavin and stopped at the door. “You know what, Elise? I always thought you were better than you gave yourself credit for. I told you to stop feeling sorry for yourself. But now I feel sorry for you. The fact you had to pretend to be someone you weren’t? That’s just sad. Good luck with the rest of your books.”
She slammed the door so hard behind her, a breeze grazed my face. I sank onto my bed, my shoulders shuddering as I fought the sobs. I risked a look up at Gavin. He stood with his hands in the pocket of the hoodie. He’d removed the sunglasses, and his eyes flickered between the book in the trash, the laptop, and me.
“You understand, right?” I croaked out. “The need to be someone else? The willingness to do what you need to succeed? I couldn’t put my own face on my books. I couldn’t bear the idea of people seeing me for—”
He held up a hand to stop me. “I really like you, Elise. Probably more than I’ve liked anyone before.”
“I like you, too.” My voice felt like a whisper as it caressed my tongue. I wasn’t even sure he’d heard me.
“But I told you things. Things I’ve never shared with anyone. I trusted you.”
“I know, and I wanted to tell you, I tried to tell you, but—”
“No. I gave you all that and you couldn’t even tell me who you really were?”
“It’s not like that, Gavin. Lots of authors have pen names. It isn’t a big deal.”
He took a step back. “Not a big deal? You and Aubrey—wait, what’s her real name?”
I sniffled. “Veronica.”
“Veronica.” He said the word long and slow, as though he were trying to get the hang of forming his lips to it. “You and Veronica played me. You played all of us. She just, what? Wanted to play celebrity?”
My shoulders sagged. “Partly.”
“Partly?”
“Well, that and money. I had to give her half my royalties.”
“Elise! You paid her to be you?” I couldn’t find any words so I nodded. “That’s so fucked-up. You know, I think your roommate had the right idea. I need to get out of here.”
“Gavin, please don’t go. I’m sorry.”
I jumped up from the bed and reached for him, but only managed to graze the sleeve of the sweatshirt. He turned when he got to the door and traced an e down the right side of his face, a reminder he was one of the few people I’d revealed my sign name to. My chest ached as he signed one last phrase.
I’m sorry, too.
The dorm room felt stifling after an entire day of sobbing into my pillow. I left its confines and wandered the campus aimlessly until my fingers grew numb and my body shivered beneath my thin sweater. The lights of the library broke through the shadows at my feet, and I ducked inside, sighing as my body soaked in the warmth.
The smell of musty books and the fluorescent lighting comforted me in a way my pillow and the cold night air couldn’t. Standing in the middle of the library was like wrapping my coziest blanket around my shoulders. I walked to the back and took the rickety stairs that led up to the stacks. It was always the least busy spot, and I knew it would be somewhere I could sit alone and think about everything.
I grabbed a random book off the shelf before plopping into a wooden chair. That was when I noticed the book sitting at the end of the table. I groaned as a familiar Viking couple glared at me. Seriously? I’d snagged the one table with a Viking Moon novel on it? Shoving the book across the surface, I crossed my arms and buried my face in them. A sob choked up my throat and my body shook as I released it into my sleeves.
Someone tapped me on the shoulder, and I jumped, almost falling backward in the chair. A pair of hands grabbed my back and steadied me.
“Hey, Elise. Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. Are you okay?”
Professor Creed’s eyes were warm behind his glasses. I wiped at my face with my sleeve.
“Yeah, Professor Creed. I’m fine. What are you doing here?”
“Duncan, please. And I come here to write. No one bothers me up here. It’s nice and quiet.”
“Yeah.” I sniffled. “I like it for the same reason. Well, the quiet thing doesn’t really matter to me, but I like that no one’s really around. Sorry if I interrupted your writing.”
“Don’t be sorry, El
ise,” he said. “You seem upset. Is there anything I can do?”
“I’m not sure there’s anything anyone can do.”
“Care to talk about it? I’m a good listener. And I have tea. Hang on.”
He moved around a shelf and returned with a silver Thermos. Pulling out a chair beside me, he lowered himself into the seat before prying the top off the Thermos. The lid also served as a cup, and he poured a steaming beverage into it and slid it across the table. The flowery scent of Earl Grey tea wafted up to me. I blew on it before taking a tentative sip, then moaned when the liquid hit my tongue. It warmed me up from my belly to my throat.
“Thank you,” I said. “I needed that.”
“You’re welcome. Now, why don’t you talk to me? Forget I’m your professor. Talk to me as a friend.”
“Uh, sure . . . friends.” Friends with the author I worship? Yeah, okay.
“I’m just a man, Elise. I wrote a few books people liked. That’s it. I’m nothing special.”
I wrapped my hands around the tiny cup, letting the warmth of the tea seep into my fingertips. “Did people treat you differently? You know, after you published the first one and it did so well?”
“I don’t see what this has to do with your problem.”
“Trust me. It has everything to do with it.” I took another sip of tea and let it linger on my tongue, savoring the combination of citrus and floral flavors before swallowing it.
“Well, okay.” He sat back in his chair. “A little, I guess. The people who knew me all wanted copies, some of them signed. I had fans write to me and attend signings. But the people I cared about, my family, my wife, my friends . . . they were mostly just proud.”
“You’re married?”
“I was. She passed away the year Carnivore’s Teeth was published. Cancer. It took her quickly.” Sadness blanketed his face, and I looked down at my tea to give him a moment of privacy.
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “I had no idea.”
“It’s all right. We had many wonderful years together. She was my childhood sweetheart. And I got a beautiful daughter out of it. Actually, my Carolyn’s about your age. She’s away at college in Boston right now.”
Flirting With Fame (Flirting With Fame) Page 19
