Warm, taut flesh, already slick and wet, made it easy to slide him inside her mouth. Not quite his entire length, but she filled the gap with a hand circling his base, moving lips and palm in tandem, drawing hard and deep with both.
She licked into the slit along the top, then rolled her tongue around the head, exploring the ridge with savory detail. Saltier at the tip, clean male along the shaft. But even better than the taste was the feel of him beneath her lips and hand as she sucked. Silky flesh over steel hardness. The barely contained control and knowing she could make him lose it. Wanted to taste him when he did. She should’ve done this last night when she had more time.
Or maybe she didn’t need much time, because his hand on the back of her head was trembling, and her name had become a refrain on his lips. Jenna stole a glance up, ignoring the drops of water falling into her eyes.
Micah watched through hooded eyelids so all she could see was a splash of green staring back at her. His breath came in choppy, ragged pants. His fingers wrapped in her hair, like he couldn’t hold still, and his other hand had a death grip on the shower curtain.
It was the most erotic visual she’d ever seen. Micah, right on the edge, because of her. She’d been turned on before, her pussy aching to be used the way her mouth was, but now…
Sliding a finger between her legs, she bumped against her clit. Her moan stayed trapped in her mouth, vibrating along Micah’s cock as she sucked him as deep as she could.
“Oh fuck, Jenna…” Harsh gasps of a man seconds from climax met the sound of plastic rending. “Oh fuck…” This time the curse didn’t seem like a sexual release. It was more deliberate, like Micah was pissed or surprised.
Jenna looked back up and the sight made her erupt into giggles. Micah was staring at the shower curtain now hanging crookedly from the rod, half of it ripped from its attachments.
A broken chuckle rumbled from his throat. “I’ll buy you a new one.”
“Uh-uh. Every time I take a shower, I’m going to think of you and how my curtain got ripped.”
And just like that his expression shot from sheepish to sexual. Reaching behind him, he turned the water off, then swept her into his arms and lifted her out of the shower.
Oh my.
He didn’t take her far, setting her on the edge of the sink and stepping between her legs. They both stared down, letting out matching moans as his cock snugged right against her pussy, the head rubbing deliciously over her clit. He dragged his shaft along her wet slit, not entering, just moving hot against her. She wanted to watch him orgasm against her sex, feel his come coating the swollen flesh there.
Dangerous, stupid, erotic, raw, awesome fantasy. She’d never wanted to be that physical with a man before. What was she thinking? Still, she rocked against him, prolonging the fantasy a little bit longer…
“Tell me you have a condom in here,” Micah said, although it sounded more like a fierce entreaty. “Tell me I don’t have to walk away without burying myself inside of you.”
Who needed fantasy when reality was this good? Heart pounding, she jerked the medicine cabinet open and pulled out the unopened condom box. Desperation had her ripping the thin cardboard, and Micah snatched one out as soon as it was free of the package.
The rest of the box tumbled to the side as he moved back just enough to slide the condom in place. “If you don’t want it fast and rough, tell me now and I’ll carry you to bed. Otherwise—”
Grabbing him by the back of his head, fingers tangling in the wet strands, Jenna kissed him hard. “Fuck me. Right now.”
“Jenna…” The way he growled her name was both warning and appreciation. His hands curved over her ass, yanking her to the edge of the sink. One strong thrust, and he was all the way inside, grinding against her, making her clit spasm and pussy contract around him. One more, and she was biting her lip to keep from waking the neighbors with her loud moans. One more, and Micah was the one biting her lip, grunting her name as flesh slapped in a rush of heat and raw passion.
This was better than any fantasy. Micah surging inside her, his fingers digging into her ass, yanking her against him with every thrust, moving faster and faster. Losing control because of her.
Like a whip cracking, she came, hard and sharp, pussy spasming around him, clenching him tight. He groaned her name, cock shuddering as he released deep inside her.
He pulled from her lips, staring at her. So much emotion in his eyes, looking both lost and found. Like he was giving everything to her, becoming a part of her.
She held on to him, arms around his neck, fingers buried in his hair, emotion clogging her throat, and gave everything she was to him too.
Did you get in trouble for being late?
Micah smiled. His first text message from Jenna. He wasn’t surprised that it was full of concern for him.
During the wake-up phone call, his driver, Hobie, had warned him that Steve wouldn’t be thrilled about Micah being late to set. In the multiple follow-up calls from Steve, he made it pretty clear just how not-thrilled he was. No surprise there, since it was the first AD’s job to ride herd on the talent. Still, Micah had deleted all the voicemail messages from Steve after listening to the first one. How many ways could Micah be told that his ass was grass and Steve was the lawnmower? Fine, Micah’d get his hand slapped for not being where he was supposed to be when he was supposed to be there.
Truthfully, he’d planned on slipping out of Jenna’s place around four in the morning, giving himself plenty of time to go home, shower and be ready when Hobie showed up to drive him to set. But the soft warmth of her body spooned against his after they had sex had lulled him deeply into sleep. In his four years working on Sexy M.D., he’d never been late. Jenna was one hell of a great reason to break that streak.
It took him all of ten minutes to jump into his doctor gear, grab his ID badge and various other medical props from Jasper, the prop master, and have Francine apply makeup and Delilah approve his hair—his perfectly mussed hair, courtesy of Jenna during their bathroom romp.
Forty-five minutes late for his call time, Micah walked up to his mark. And waited. And waited. Crystal was nowhere to be found. If he had known that would happen, he would’ve spent the extra time with Jenna.
While Steve went on a rampage, first yelling at Micah for being late, then screaming for someone to find Crystal and get her ass to set, Micah pulled his cell phone back out and replied to Jenna, It was worth it.
Fast-forward twenty-four hours, and everyone on set was on edge. The eight-hour turnaround after a sixteen-hour day was hell, and the only thing keeping Micah sane was Jenna. Between each take he checked his phone. They kept up a steady back-and-forth texting, sharing random thoughts, jokes, getting to know each other better a few words at a time.
“Micah,” Steve snapped as he came from behind the camera. “Get your head out of your phone and into the scene.” He continued toward Crystal with a few more orders and arguments.
Micah shook his head and turned away. He hadn’t blown a take all day, but getting involved in a bitch fest with Steve when he was like this wasn’t worth the energy. Micah tucked his phone back in his pocket.
Delilah came forward to fix his hair and said in a careful whisper, “Don’t piss him off too badly. Rumor has it they’re planning something big for the finale, killing someone off in a major game-changing maneuver to convince the network to renew us for another season.”
“Any word who?”
“There’s lots of names being tossed about.” She lifted one shoulder in an apologetic shrug. “But I’m hearing your name and Crystal’s being bandied around the most.”
Micah nodded. He should’ve been more upset, but strangely he wasn’t. His life would be a hundred times better if he didn’t have to work with the poison that was Crystal. If that meant he was out of a job, so be it. His agent would find him more work. Jack was a hothead bulldog driven by the paycheck.
“We’re going again, everyone!” Steve yelled, and Mi
cah didn’t have time to think about it anymore.
Later that night, he could only hope that Delilah was right about the writers killing off either him or Crystal. He’d spent the last five hours on a grueling surgery scene with tons of fake blood and equipment, Crystal couldn’t remember a two-word line, let alone a complete sentence, and the props were malfunctioning. Sayid was so pissed off, Micah wouldn’t be surprised if real blood soon joined all the fake blood being spilled.
While Sayid ripped into the special-effects crew and the script supervisor walked Crystal through the lines she kept flubbing, Micah pulled out his phone. The photo waiting for him made the hell of the last few hours fade into the background.
Jenna had taken the picture herself while sitting at her dressing table at Stars, her back to the mirror, the roses he’d sent filling up the tiny space. The card he’d included stuck out of the top of the flowers, his words visible even in the small image: I miss your smile. M.
She beamed at him, her sweet eyes lit with happiness. In the hand not holding her phone, she displayed a piece of paper handwritten with the words: I’m smiling because of you.
When Jenna’s text arrived Friday morning, Micah was reminded of how fast news traveled in this town.
I just heard on the radio that Sexy M.D. got picked up for S5. Congratulations! We’ll celebrate tomorrow night.
Everyone else on set was in good spirits knowing they’d most likely be employed for another year, although the rumors of the game-changing finale with a major character’s death still lingered. Jenna couldn’t know that the renewal didn’t necessarily mean he’d have a job next year.
He typed out a quick reply: I just want to celebrate you.
The next time he looked at the phone, Jenna’s text brightened his day: Is it Saturday night yet?
Chapter Seven
Jenna’s apartment complex hadn’t changed since Micah had left here four days ago—the dingy mattresses still sagged against the dumpsters, Oscar and company were still adding empty beer cans to the piles on the hoods of the junked cars, and the hallway still smelled of tortillas and cleaning products—yet he felt more at ease this time as he walked to her door. He fully realized this was because of Jenna. Right now he would walk through a war zone to get to her, he wanted to see her so damn much.
Kiss her so damn much.
Make love to her so damn much.
Yeah, he’d missed her over the seemingly endless last few days.
He knocked on her door. Within a couple seconds chains rattled, locks clinked, the door opened, and he knew that so damn much didn’t begin to cover the extent of his need for her.
“Hey, you.” Her joy, laughter and happiness radiated over him. The flowers in his hand suddenly felt lacking, too simple to properly convey all the things he felt. He’d give her the world if it meant she’d never stop looking at him that way.
The flowers would have to do though, at least for now.
“Hey, gorgeous girl,” he said.
Her face lit up even more as she took the bouquet he offered. Closing her eyes, she leaned into the flowers and inhaled. “You’re spoiling me,” she whispered, her eyes coming back open, bright blue shining over the peach, pink and red blossoms.
And it hit him, right then and there, like a lightning strike out of nowhere, making his heart race and his chest pull tight. These feelings he had for her…this wasn’t a fleeting infatuation that would disappear after a few more nights together. These weren’t emotions he could push to the side or ignore because they weren’t easy or because he’d only known her a few days. Hell, he’d felt this way only hours after meeting her, but he’d cursed himself then, thinking himself crazy. To hell with that now, rational mind be damned. He wanted her, all of this, the smiles, the laughter, the text messages, the dates, the showers, the lovemaking. He wanted her to come home to, kisses goodbye and kisses hello, breakfasts, lunches, dinners, midnight snacks, making love before bed, when they woke up together in the morning, in the middle of the day and every time in between.
This was love. He was in love with Jenna. Fuck if he knew why it had taken him even five days to figure it out. From the first time he’d seen her, she’d knocked him off his feet as surely as he’d knocked her off hers.
“Anything for your smiles.” Tucking his hand behind her neck, he pulled her into a kiss.
Nothing had ever tasted so good. He licked over her lips, dipped inside where she was warm and wet and sweet. Her tongue pressed against his, and she let out the softest of sighs, her arms circling his neck, the flowers coming with her, the petals grazing his shoulder.
“I could get used to this,” she said when they pulled away to catch their breath.
“This?” he asked, kissing her again. “Or this?” He brushed his lips along her jaw, scraped his teeth down the curve of her neck. “Or this?” He nuzzled the base of her throat, nipping at the pulse point there. “Yeah, I like all of this.”
“Me too.” She released a shaky exhale and tipped her head back. “All of it. Everything. You. This. Kisses. More…”
“I like your definition of ‘this’.” He kissed his way back to her mouth. “And maybe I can convince you to expand it.”
“Beyond ‘everything’, ‘all of it’ and ‘more’?” Her eyes danced. “What’s left?”
Considering the fact his interpretation of “this” included her, in his arms, now and in the future, for as long as she’d have him, he replied, “I guess I’ll just have to keep showing you all ‘this’ can be.”
“I’m good with that.” She plucked a rose petal off his shoulder. “I think I crushed the flowers a bit when I kissed you.”
“I’ll buy you more.”
She laughed. “And now we’re back to you spoiling me.”
“I’m not sure this qualifies as spoiling, but…” He handed her the gift bag he’d almost forgotten he was carrying.
She took the bag with a questioning look in her eye that changed to laughter once she peeked inside. “I told you that you didn’t have to replace my shower curtain.”
“Hey, I broke it—”
“Because of me.” Her impish expression had him wanting to reenact Wednesday morning from shower to countertop. But he stayed good. For now.
“Believe me, I remember it very, very well. But still. I broke it, the least I can do is fix it, or in this case, replace it.”
She made a quick detour into the bathroom and left the bag on the sink. Stepping back out, she held up the flowers. “Let me get these in a vase before we go.” She walked into her tiny kitchen, and he followed, not wanting her out of his sight.
He’d seen her when she first opened the door, but he’d been so focused on kissing her that he hadn’t taken in the full visual. He was a damn fool.
The dress she wore was red, fire-engine red, striking against her porcelain skin. And hot damn he could see plenty of skin. The straps tied at the base of her neck, leaving her back bare to her waist. The skirt was ruffled, falling to mid-thigh, showing off the curvy legs that made him want to fall to his knees in front of her. Or behind her.
Instead he leaned a shoulder against the refrigerator and watched as she set the roses on the countertop, opened a cupboard and stretched toward the top shelf. He almost swallowed his tongue as the short little skirt flirted higher up her thighs. Just another inch or two…
“Oscar’s gonna kick my ass.” He pushed off the fridge and stepped behind her, cradling her hip with one hand while reaching along the length of her hot, hot body and grabbing the vase for her.
“Oscar? What? Why?”
Micah set the vase on the counter, but he didn’t move. Couldn’t move, not with her short skirt, naked back and bare arms all pressed against him.
“Oscar stopped me outside. Told me you’re a good girl. A sweet girl. He made it very clear that I need to treat you like a lady or I’d answer to him and his friends.” Trailing fingertips along her arm, he layered kiss after kiss on her shoulder, tasting the lightest
of freckles that spotted her skin. “And the thoughts going through my mind right now, of you in your short, short skirt and just how easy it would be to get underneath it, well, I’m pretty sure Oscar wouldn’t approve.”
Jenna turned her head to face him, keeping their bodies fused together. “Then I guess we should be glad Oscar’s not here to stop us.” Taking his hand, she placed it on her outer thigh and, guiding his movements, skimmed upward along bare flesh, beneath her skirt.
“A sweet girl, a good girl and a naughty girl. You are worth any ass-kicking Oscar wants to dole out.”
“Good, because you’re not the only one who remembers Wednesday morning very, very well.”
“And here I was looking forward to jogging your memory.”
“I definitely don’t mind a refresher.” She led his hand higher over smooth skin, warm and curvy. Her ass was cradling his dick so nicely he didn’t want to pull away, but the sight slowly being revealed made the departure well worth it. Red panties under a red dress. “Maybe I should’ve brought the shower curtain in here to give you something to hold on to,” she teased.
“Oh I think I can find a place to put my hands.” Sinking to his knees behind her, he placed both hands on her thighs beneath the skirt and ran his tongue along the lacy edge of those tiny red panties.
Jenna sucked in a long, shaky breath. “I feel like now’s a really good time to remind you that I have a hard time staying on my feet around you.”
“Maybe I should get the shower curtain for you to hold on to.”
She huffed out a laugh that dropped an octave and became a low moan when he ran two fingers over the fabric shielding her sex.
“If I fall, it’ll be your fault.” She readjusted her stance, bending over the counter and spreading her legs a bit wider, and he promptly lost his mind. Maybe she’d done it to help her balance, but he didn’t think that was the reason, or at least not the only reason. No, she was giving him room to work, room to drive her—and himself—crazy.
Starstruck: Hollywood Heat, Book 3 Page 6
