Starstruck: Hollywood Heat, Book 3

by Ashleigh Raine

  Micah must have known, must’ve felt her reaching the breaking point. He raised his hips, grinding his full length against her through two layers of denim. Again. And again. And again.

  She shattered, her pussy clamping down on nothing, giving her relief but not enough. Her body trembled, riding the edge, and Micah wrapped her in his arms, tucking her against his chest, his hand rubbing the length of her spine. His heart raced, body tight, cock still rock hard beneath her, but he didn’t push for more. Lips brushing her hair, he held her, took care of her, like he didn’t plan on letting go.

  Micah had just had the most intense not-sex of his life, and he was bracing himself for things to go wrong.

  Shit, he was fucked up. Jenna hadn’t done a single thing to deserve his skepticism. Every moment he’d spent with her she’d shown herself to be beautiful inside and out, a genuinely good person.

  Yet doubt weighed on him until it hurt to breathe. He expected the worst from everybody, including himself. It would serve him right if he died a miserable lonely old bastard. Why couldn’t he let himself be happy?

  All the callous cynicism of the industry had wrecked him. Worn him down, put him constantly on edge from wondering when he’d end up getting screwed and used, and who’d be responsible for the giant fuck over.

  He clenched his teeth, unintentionally squeezing Jenna a little bit tighter.

  “Micah?” Concern turned his name into a question, and she tilted her head to stare up at him. He didn’t even want to meet her gaze. Coward. Would she recognize him for the asshole he truly was?

  Her blue eyes were wide, unblinking, looking at him the same way she had when he’d knocked her to the floor on set this morning. Like she wasn’t sure what to say or do to make things right.

  She’d placed her trust in him and he’d let her down.

  Christ, how could he have considered, even for a second, that she might try to use him? This wasn’t a woman practiced in the art of seductive betrayal. There were no pouting demands, no whispered suggestions of how good it would be between them if he only did a small favor for her in return. One phone call to his agent or manager. A night on his arm to be noticed by the right people. Hell, Jenna hadn’t even tried to score an autograph for a friend or family member.

  All she’d done was make him feel good, treated him like a person, rather than a celebrity commodity. She deserved better than someone so afraid of emotionally connecting and being let down that he’d become a shadow of himself.

  He stroked fingertips down the side of her face. “I want you so badly, Jenna.” The words came out on a desperate whisper, though he was surprised he got them out at all. “But I’m a fucked-up mess. I can’t even say how badly I want you because I’m so used to having to protect myself, it’s making me shut down. And I don’t want to shut down. I want you, everything about you. I want the right to kiss you whenever and however. To be with you, in every way that matters. But I’m scared shitless.”

  The concern weighing Jenna’s features softened, shifting to compassion. Understanding. “Emotions are scary. But they’re also exhilarating and the reason we thrive while we’re saying lines and hearing applause. If I wasn’t scared too, something would be very, very wrong.” She lifted her hand so it covered his on her face. “But I’d much rather be scared with you than alone.”

  He threaded his hand in her hair and kissed her. For all the million reasons he’d told her about earlier and the ones he couldn’t yet voice.

  You better not fuck this up.

  How many times had he said those same words to himself right before an audition or a meeting with a producer he wanted to impress? Yet those didn’t feel anywhere near as important as the hope he had in front of him.

  Sighing against his lips, Jenna shifted closer to him, and the unfeigned response made his dick impossibly harder. She gave of herself so freely, it humbled him. He had to do this right, make love to her rather than give her a rough and tumble, show her how much she’d begun to mean to him in such a short time since the words were harder to come by.

  “Where’s your bed?” he said in one of the rare moments he could force himself from her mouth.

  She scooted off his lap, got to her feet and held her hand out to him. “C’mon.” Her lips were swollen from his kisses, hair disheveled, breasts on display, but it was her smile that did him in every single time. He’d follow her anywhere to keep seeing her look at him that way.

  Her hand in his, she walked a few steps behind the couch where a bed was sandwiched between a nightstand and dresser. “A benefit of living in a small, single-room apartment. Don’t have to travel very far to get anywhere.”

  “I can see how that might come in handy.” He wrapped his arms around her waist from behind and kissed her neck.

  “We need to lie down,” she whispered between soft sighs of pleasure, “because your kisses have a devastating affect on my ability to stand.”

  “I could get used to that, y’know.” Micah kissed the other side of her neck. “I don’t think you realize just how much I want to keep kissing you, standing, sitting, lying down, rolling around on the floor, hanging from the rafters.”

  “Rafters?” Her light laugh became a soft moan as he nuzzled her hair out of the way and pressed biting kisses along the back of her neck. “I don’t even have a chandelier.”

  “I don’t care. I just want you, Jenna, however you’ll have me.” Hands on her hips, he layered nips and licks down her spine, paying special attention to the sweet curve that disappeared behind denim. On his knees now, he turned her to face him and pressed his forehead against her stomach. He breathed her in, the musky scent of woman a little stronger here. She was warm, soft, and when her fingers combed through his hair, holding him to her, he thought he could stay here on his knees in front of her forever and be happy. Just like this.

  He looked up her body to see her staring down at him, wonder and joy in her eyes, her hair haloed gold from the light in the entryway behind her. He might not be able to stay in this moment forever, but he’d damn well remember it. Every nuance of the way she looked right now. A mental photograph he’d call forth whenever he needed to remember that life could be very, very good if he let it.

  He kissed his way back up her body. When he saw the slightly reddened skin around one breast, a caveman swell of pleasure grabbed him by the throat and balls. He licked over her nipple, tonguing the stubble-burned flesh. Her breath caught on his name, a moan like earlier, right before she’d come.

  “Jenna…” He didn’t even know what else to say, because everything he wanted was summed up in her.

  Fingers tangled in his hair, she tugged him up until they were face to face, lips to lips. She moaned against his mouth as she dragged him backward toward the bed, one hand jerking at the hem of his shirt. “This has to go. Now. Take this off. Now.”

  He did.

  “Well then.” Jenna sank onto the bed, her eyes wide. “No more shirts for you. Ever.”

  Grinning, Micah rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a tinge embarrassed. He’d been shirtless on national television and in a few magazines, and googling his name came up with way more images than any one person should ever see of themselves, including some gay porn shots with him photoshopped into the action.

  But damn. He’d never felt this appreciated before. Yeah, it was sexual, but it was also honest…and kind of exhilarating. To see that look in her eyes, he’d do just about anything.

  “Ever?” He placed his hands on his hips, flexing his muscles, putting on a little show. “You think? I dunno.”

  “I’m willing to compromise. No more shirts around me. Ever.” She lounged back on her elbows and drank him in. He took a moment to return the favor, enjoying the view she offered. Rumpled and half-naked suited Jenna. “And because I believe in being fair…” A few seconds later she’d removed her necklace and set it on the nightstand, then freed herself from her bra and tossed it on the floor next to his discarded tee.

  He stared
, desperate to lick the slightly reddened skin where her bra had dug into her flesh beneath her breasts. Then lick lower, and lower still…

  They both needed to lose their pants. Now.

  He opened the top button on his jeans.

  Jenna’s hands lowered to her waistline, mirroring his movements. Watching her button slide free, seeing that extra inch of skin on her belly, he was surprised his dick didn’t force his zipper down on its own.

  She cleared her throat, and his gaze took the slow and leisurely path back up her body to meet her eyes. “Why are you stopping?” she asked, sounding as impatient as he felt.

  “Gotta take my shoes off.”

  Jenna shook her head and tsked. “I’m instituting a new house rule. No shirt. No shoes. Full service.”

  Micah barked out a laugh as he toed off his shoes and socks. Jenna’s sandals thumped to the floor, and she wiggled her toes, which only made him laugh again. Sex had always been about getting him and his partner off, and he’d enjoyed it, but this…he was actually having fun.

  He returned to his fly and started undoing the zipper…slowly, savoring the reaction from his audience. He was torn between watching her expression—eyes following everything he did, mouth slightly parted, tongue coming out to tease along her lips—or her actions. Zipper completely unfastened now, she’d hooked her thumbs in her waistband and begun to ease down denim and the cotton beneath.

  “Fuuuck.” It sounded guttural and harsh, but he couldn’t help it because he lost all patience when her panties hit her knees. Not tearing his eyes from Jenna, he pulled a condom from his wallet and jerked his jeans and briefs past his feet.

  Her jeans landed next to his on the carpet, and Micah landed on the bed over Jenna, his entire body straining to get inside of her and never leave.

  He kissed her because it had been too long, at least a couple minutes since he’d last tasted her smile. Jenna arched up beneath him, pressing her chest to his, skin to skin. He wanted to feel her everywhere, naked flesh merging until nothing but heat and pleasure remained.

  Condom first, he reminded himself, before all control was lost and he thrust inside her bare. He pulled away, out of breath and out of his mind, and tore open the foil. He tried to keep his hand steady, but he was shaking from all the need and lust erupting past the boiling point.

  She must’ve known, or maybe she just wanted to touch him as badly as he wanted to touch her, but Jenna took the condom from him and rolled it down his cock. Fingertips, heat, pressing him there…and there.

  If she could prepare him…

  He trailed fingers over her stomach and down to the heart of her. He played with the curls shielding her pussy, drenched from her earlier orgasm, before sliding inside. Soft, giving flesh, hot and wet, surrounded his fingers. Slick and ready for him, Jenna moaned, hips lifting into his caresses. He stroked up through her folds, circling her clit. Gasping, she flexed her hand around his dick, dragging him against her heat.

  Taking her hand, he tangled their fingers together. Bodies together. One push, one breath, one heartbeat…he pressed all the way inside of Jenna.

  Fuck, it was too much. Too good. Too hot. Too right. He couldn’t turn away, couldn’t stop staring into her blue, blue eyes and seeing everything he wanted reflected there. He pulled back, thrust deeper. The welcoming give of her body, her panted breaths, the way she lifted to meet his every stroke, like she couldn’t stand the separation any more than he could, even though they both knew the return trip would be sweeter still.

  She was trembling now, or maybe they both were, feeling too much, building too high, too fast. With their bodies moving together, Micah braced his weight on his elbows and legs and framed her face with both hands. He rubbed a thumb over her lips, fingers brushing over cheeks and eyebrows. She centered him, even while she made him lose control.

  Closing her eyes, she kissed his palm, and when her gaze returned, she gave him the softest of smiles which seemed to glow from within.

  It was a lightning strike, a direct line from her smile to his dick. It flooded his senses until he couldn’t breathe, and every bit of his come and heat and need poured out of him and into her. Through it all he watched her face, tasted her orgasm in the hot breaths she panted against his mouth, felt her body pulse around him in ecstasy.

  And he smiled.

  Chapter Six

  A song playing too loud and too close dragged Jenna from sleep. Hazy, gray light filtered through her blinds. Her neighbor TJ didn’t normally blast her tunes this early. Jenna tried to bury her head beneath her pillow, but it moved with a rumbled, “Shit, m’sorry.”

  Micah. He was her pillow—her blanket too—and both peeled away from her, removing comfort and lots of warm, solid flesh she’d spent most of last night getting rather familiar with and enjoying quite fabulously.

  He cursed some more while fumbling with something on the floor. Finally the song stopped.

  “’ello,” Micah mumbled as he settled back on the edge of the bed and rubbed a hand down his face. “Damn. Yeah. Sorry. I’m not there… No, don’t worry ’bout it. I’ll get myself to set this morning.” He sighed. “Yeah, thanks. That way I don’t have to. Steve’s gonna be pissed… I know. But I won’t hold up production.” Another pause. “Thanks, man.”

  He shut off his phone and tossed it onto his jeans on the floor. Muscles flexed in his arms and back as his hands ran roughshod over his face and hair. Mmm, that was all kinds of nice to wake up to.

  Attempting grace before coffee wasn’t easy, yet somehow Jenna untangled herself from the sheets and slid across the mattress to rest her cheek against the back of Micah’s neck. He was warm. Smelled good too. “G’morning.”

  “Hey, gorgeous. Sorry my phone woke you.” Micah turned and kissed her, the softest brush of mouth to mouth, his hand curving around her neck to play with her hair. “Not sorry I got to kiss you goodbye though. Go back to sleep. I’ll see myself out.”

  “No, I’m okay. I’m awake.” A yawn that threatened to suck all the air from the room negated her statement. “I’m not being a particularly good hostess.”

  Micah stroked her cheek. “I beg to differ on your hostessing skills. You made me feel plenty welcome. So much so—”

  The same song from earlier blared from the floor. Micah exhaled an annoyed huff and grabbed the phone. He looked at the screen and shook his head. “Steve couldn’t even wait two minutes… It’s gonna be one of those days.” He dropped the phone back to the floor without answering, his whole body going tense. “Do you mind if I use your shower? The ones on set think hot is only a suggestion.”

  “Course. Let me get the water running for you though. The knob’s fussy and if it’s not in just the right place, you’ll end up iced or burned.”

  For half a second she thought about pulling on a T-shirt before tromping to the bathroom. Really, what was she trying to hide? After all the ways Micah had made her body sing last night, it wasn’t like he didn’t know exactly what she looked like naked. From every angle, inside and out.

  Still, the more modest side of her wished she’d grabbed a sheet, a towel, a robe, a pillow, the entire darn mattress—anything to make her feel a little less au naturel as she walked ahead of Micah to the bathroom and proceeded to bend over to futz with the shower faucet. Good Lord, she was putting the ass in bare-ass naked.

  The water seemed to take an inordinately long amount of time to cooperate. As soon as the temperature was right, she stood and turned around. “Okay, you’re good—”

  Micah’s body was hotter than the water, and she knew the exact temperature of both since he’d seamed himself to her, lips to toes, and lifted her into the shower with him.

  “Well, good morning to you too…” she said when he pulled his breath-stealing lips away.

  “It is now.” His hands were doing all sorts of nice things to her body, sliding down her back, curving over her ass, dipping low and in between her legs, teasing the pleasantly aching flesh there.

  �
�I thought…” she let out a low, shaky gasp when those naughty fingers pressed deep inside her pussy, “…you had to leave for work?”

  “Mmmm, I do.” He latched onto her breast, his tongue wreaking delicious havoc. She threaded her fingers through his wet hair as soft growls rumbled from his throat. After one last deep draw on her nipple, he pulled away and stared up at her through water-specked eyelashes, looking gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous, intent and sexy. “I’ll be late.”

  She didn’t want to be the reason he got in trouble, and by the earlier phone calls, it didn’t sound like work was all that forgiving. But tearing herself from Micah had proven impossible so far. Blindly, she fumbled behind her for the shampoo and handed it to him, then backed away to give him room to wash up.

  Her shower wasn’t very big. She could easily reach out and touch the flexing muscles as he ran soapy hands over his head and chest. She could help him get clean, right? Scrub him there, then a little lower…

  Yeah, like that wouldn’t lead to him being even later to work. So no interference, just ogling. Besides, pushing aside the shower curtain and climbing out wasn’t doable. Her legs refused to cooperate. Not when she could watch the water slicking over his flesh, his hair darkening beneath the spray—and not just the hair on his head. His nicely erect cock stretched from dark wet curls toward the gold whorls dusting his lower abdomen.

  “If you had any idea the fantasy going through my mind right now…” Micah’s husky murmur got Jenna’s mind—and body—revving to make his fantasy come true. Not that she knew exactly what he was thinking, but she could hazard a pretty strong guess.

  And she wanted it too.

  “How much time do you have?” she whispered.

  “Enough.”

  She sank to her knees in front of Micah, his body shielding her from the majority of the shower spray, and took his cock in her mouth.

  There was something rather gratifying in hearing the loud hiss of breath he sucked in, followed by the repeated murmur of her name as he palmed the back of her head. He wasn’t forcing her to stay or move, just making it clear he didn’t mind her visiting for a while. Luckily, she planned on doing all three.