The #5Star Affair (Love Hashtagged Book 1)

by Lindt, Allyson

  “I’ll text you in a little bit, so you can save it.”

  The terse, almost mechanical responses, combined with her reserved body language, set him on edge. Maybe he wasn’t asking the right questions. “How did everything go with work?”

  “I’d rather not talk about it.”

  So much for that. His curiosity begged with him to push the issue, and his protectiveness demanded he get answers. He stowed both reactions. “Then we won’t.”

  “Thanks.” Some of the tension evaporated from her face, and she sank into the cushions, frown fading.

  His muscles itched with the desire to wrap her up, kiss away whatever caused this, and distract her. If he’d been off-base with his attempts to get her to open up so far, though, something told him that would make things far worse. Needing an outlet for his energy, he wandered into the kitchen. He grabbed a bottle from the fridge, popped the top, and knocked back a long swallow. “Beer?”

  “No thanks.”

  Frustration welled inside. This conversation wasn’t going anywhere. Why was he still trying? Because he couldn’t walk away when she was like this. “I’m ordering pizza. I know you’re not hungry, but say you might be later. What would you want?”

  He turned back, to find that she’d shifted on the couch and was leaning against the back, one arm draped over, watching him. More of the blank eeriness had lifted, and it almost looked like she might smile. “You’re not going to stop, are you?”

  “Do you want me to?”

  She studied him for a moment, seeming to consider his question. “It comes down to that. Doesn’t it? When you ask me that, you actually care what my answer is.”

  “Of course.” He was surprised, and just as wounded by the question. Hadn’t he already shown that?

  She smiled, and her entire face relaxed. “Pepperoni. But I’m still not talking about today.”

  He adored that expression. Now he just needed to figure out what he'd done right, and do more of it. “I wasn’t even going to ask.” He dialed up the order through the app on his phone. “What are you watching?”

  “Something with zombies and explosions. Didn’t really pay attention to more than the cover art when I picked it off your list.”

  “So it’s half of my movies.” He dropped onto the couch next to her again, and was pleased when she shifted a few inches closer.

  *

  Jaycie finished off her second slice of pizza, and washed it down with a swig of soda. More screams and explosions echoed in the background, but she was focused on Ethan, not whatever they were watching now. Aliens maybe? Resident Evil? He was more entertaining than the movie, anyway.

  “I hated Battleship growing up,” he said. “I thought I was the worst player ever, until I found out my brother was lying about whether or not I’d hit his ships.”

  “That’s just wrong. I’m kind of glad I never had brothers. Only the two sisters. Except they never wanted to play Barbie with me.” They’d been talking for hours, and she was amazed he’d kept the topic one-hundred percent away from what had happened earlier. Part of her wanted to talk about it, but she knew he’d overreact, and while that wasn’t as bad as ignoring her concerns, it also wouldn’t solve anything. Letting this fade and die was the best solution.

  When she’d gotten home from the grocery store, and her encounter with Kent, her voice mail was full. After listening to a couple of messages similar to the call she’d taken before she left, she deleted the rest, and had her number changed. She spent the next few hours staring blankly at the TV, and questioning everything about her judgment. If she’d never seen this coming with Nick and his friends, what was she missing when it came to Ethan?

  When he got home, and started assailing her with questions, she almost screamed. Until she compared the encounter to the one with Kent, and realized Ethan was still persistent, but he backed off immediately every time she asked.

  “You played with Barbies?” He laughed.

  “So what? I loved seeing how many different ways I could mix and match their outfits.”

  “I just…” He shook his head. “Preconceived notions, and all that.”

  “You cook.”

  “I—” He worked his jaw up and down, no sound coming out. “Feed myself or starve.”

  “I’m not accusing you of anything. Just making a point. I think it’s awesome.”

  “All right, point taken.” He pointed at the pizza box. “You done?” When she nodded, he gathered everything into a pile on the coffee table, leaving the space between them empty. “Shall we play a game?”

  She laughed at the bad, mechanical imitation of War Games. “As long as it’s not global thermonuclear war.”

  “You get it. Another reason I adore you.” He scooted closer until his knee was touching hers. “And no, it’s not. It’s kind of like truth or dare, but backwards.”

  She tried not to linger on the word adore. It had just slipped out, right? The last thing she needed right now was another puzzle for her mind to gnaw on. Still, she liked the warmth it sent flooding through her. She twisted her mouth in amused curiosity. “How’s that work, then?”

  “I tell you something about myself, and you guess if I’m telling the truth. If you guess wrong, I get to dare you to do something. Then it’s your turn to do the same.”

  The option of unrestricted dares made her nervous. This was her chance to see if she could really trust him, though. “And if I guess right?”

  “Then it’s your turn to try and trick me. The game doesn’t go anywhere, if we get sucked into an endless cycle because one of us keeps getting the answers wrong or right.”

  “I’m in.” At her core, she still didn’t like the idea of opening herself up. But at the same time, he was interested in her, and experience told her she wouldn’t spend half the conversation justifying herself. She trusted him. It was an odd sensation, but a comforting one. Besides, this meant learning more about him, too. “You go first, since it’s your game.”

  “When I was little, my favorite color was pink.”

  An image flashed through her mind of a young Ethan in a pink sweater, strutting proudly around the playground. It was a cute thought, but she didn’t buy it. “You’re lying.”

  He grinned. “I’m not. My older brother Damon—yes, the same one who cheated at Battleship—used to tease me mercilessly, until I finally gave it up.”

  She couldn’t imagine him yielding to anything. What kind of an older brother did he have? “That’s not right.”

  “It’s in the past. I still have a pink T-shirt I wear to family reunions, just to get under his skin.”

  That sounded more like the Ethan she knew.

  “So, you guessed wrong. Dare,” he said.

  Her muscles tightened, and some of her amusement slipped away. This wasn’t a big deal. She wouldn’t have agreed to this if she didn’t trust him. “Do your worst.”

  “Nope. We save worst for later in the game.” His grin morphed into the wolfish one that made her feel like she was willingly on the menu. “Hmm…. Sing me the chorus of your favorite song.”

  “I don’t sing.”

  “You dance.”

  “Very different skill set.” She should just get this over with. She had agreed, and she’d have her revenge. Licking her lips, she hummed a few notes in her head to get to the right place, and started in on the chorus of Halestorm’s Let Me In Your Room. Her voice was quiet at first, but within four lines, she was singing at the same volume as in the car.

  He clapped when she finished. “Apparently you do sing. What do I get to see, if I look in your room?”

  She knew he was speaking as metaphorically as the song. Hisses of memory pinged at her thoughts, trying to force the phone calls and her encounter with Kent back to the forefront. It was easier than she expected to shove them aside. This was now, and she was safe. “That’s a long list.” She really wanted the attention somewhere else. “My turn.”

  “We’re admiring your voice still.” />
  “You’re admiring my voice. Um…okay.” An idea popped into her head, and she tried to shove it aside. There was no way she could admit that. Except the concern she expected to feel wasn’t there. She examined her reaction for a moment. Did she really trust Ethan with that kind of information? As she rolled the thought over in her head, she realized she did.

  Since that was the case, she was willing to spill a not-so-proud moment, in favor of a little friendly competition. If he hadn’t believed she played with dolls, he’d never guess this right. “I get exhibitor passes to gaming trade shows. It’s a perk of the job. But the distributors and designers don’t always like to talk to the press, especially when I won’t tell them my name. So…I’ve been known to hide the press badge, and pretend to be a developer’s girlfriend in order to get a different perspective on a game I’m reviewing.”

  He furrowed his brow and made an array of faces before he answered. “Too detailed a story. I say it’s true.”

  So much for catching him off-guard. Apparently bluffing was as much a part of this game as coming up with facts. “Fine. Your turn.”

  “Wait. You’ve actually done that? I mean, I know I guessed yes, but—” He shook his head.

  “I’m not proud of it.”

  He slid his hand under where hers rested on her leg, then turned it palm up, and intertwined his fingers with hers. “So, press passes. That means you get into all the sneak peeks no one else gets to see.”

  She liked the way his skin felt against hers. Secure. Safe. Tempting. She didn’t dare shift and break the moment. “I do.”

  “If I beg and plead and look pretty, what are the odds you’ll take me to the next E3 and let me claim I’m your boyfriend? You know, purely to get into those press-only panels.”

  She laughed and nudged him with her shoulder. The urge to say he didn’t have to pretend bubbled up inside and she squashed it. This was meant to be fun and lighthearted, not some kind of attempt to redefine them. Still, she liked the idea of having him by her side at an event like that. Something told her it would make the show more entertaining. “Maybe. I guess you’re pretty enough.”

  “Yes!” His grin sent flutters of something pleasant but unfamiliar rushing through her. “Okay, my turn. I don’t like spicy food.”

  “Ha. Total lie.” She didn’t hesitate. “You ordered extra jalapenos on your pizza.”

  He didn’t look disappointed at being found out. He squeezed her hand. “Busted.”

  This was so easy. So calming. The events of their day still lurked in the back of her mind, but if she didn’t nudge them, they were ghosts. Whispers she didn’t have to deal with right now. Something occurred to her. “There’s a problem with your game.”

  “What’s that?”

  She almost hated to bring it up. What if it spoiled the fun? She’d committed herself to answering, though. “I only find out the things about you that you want me to know.”

  He traced lazy lines with his thumb along the side of her hand, and a pleasant tremor ran through her. “We have to start somewhere. But okay, what do you want to know?” he asked.

  So many questions, and she couldn’t force herself to ask any of them. The last thing she wanted to do was ruin this… Whatever it was. She shook her head. “Never mind. My turn, right?”

  He gave her a mock bow, and tipped his hand from his head, as if tipping a hat. “Your turn, my lady.”

  She wracked her head for something obscure. Something that would sound completely off the wall about her, but was true. Why did she have to be so boring? Then it occurred to her. “When I was eighteen, I sold vacuum cleaners door to door. I lasted an entire day, before I quit.”

  “Totally not true. Door-to-door vacuum sales isn’t even a thing.”

  “It is.” She couldn’t hide her smugness.

  “All right. Fair enough. What do I have to do? You’re going to regret it, if you ask me to sing.”

  She was tempted, just to return the favor from earlier. But she had something else in mind. She summoned all her courage, and pushed out the words. “No singing. Not right now, anyway. Answer me completely honestly.”

  “Like I’ve been doing all night?”

  She raised her brows. Could he hear her heart hammering against her ribs? “Am I just a conquest, or are you actually interested in me?”

  All traces of teasing dropped from his face, and he pulled her hand toward him. “You aren’t just anything, and definitely not a conquest. You’re fascinating and intelligent and witty and gorgeous, and ‘interested’ in you is such an understatement, it’s almost rude.”

  She’d expected he’d probably come up with the right answer sooner rather than later. It was a leading question. What she hadn’t expected was such an immediate and passionate response.

  He searched her face. “Was that it?”

  “Yes.” She wasn’t sure she trusted herself to say more. “Your turn.”

  “I desperately want to tangle my fingers in your hair, and kiss you again.”

  Ethan’s voice had dropped an octave, and his gaze held her captive.

  Heat flooded her, warming every inch of her skin, and searing her nerves. She pushed all thought aside, shifted her weight to her knees, leaned in, and brushed her lips over his. She pulled back enough to look him in the eye. “Truth.” Her voice barely reached her own ears.

  He tangled his hand into her hair, held her head captive, and kissed her hard, groaning against her mouth. She leaned into him, memorizing every sensation.

  Chapter Twelve

  Ethan trailed his finger down the side of Jaycie’s cheek. His entire frame molded to hers, pressing her between his body and the sofa. “I’m glad I’m not the only one who feels this.” A heavy current ran through his voice.

  There were so many reasons hooking up with him was a bad idea. Except none of them came to mind. All she could think about was what it was like to kiss him. What it would be like to have those powerful hands roaming her body. To see what she and Ethan could be, if they stripped away the excuses and hesitation. He chased away her anxiety and forced the rest of the world to fade into the background. “You’re not the only one.”

  “Thank Christ.” He yanked her head back, and slanted his mouth over hers. His moan rumbled through his chest, and echoed in her head. She locked her fingers at the back of his neck, holding on tight, willingly drowning in the barely sated hunger flowing between them.

  He broke the kiss and met her gaze. “I’ve been haunted by fantasies of fucking you. Stripping you down a piece of clothing at a time, running my fingers over every inch of your body, and figuring out how many different ways I can make you scream.”

  The words fluttered in her chest, swelled and tingled across her skin. Warmth spread between her thighs at the images he placed in her head. “That’s a big promise.”

  “I’m up to the challenge. But I’ll warn you now, if you let me start, I won’t want to stop.”

  “I’d be disappointed to hear otherwise.”

  He turned on the couch, at the same time tugging her hand and urging her toward him. She took the hint, and straddled his legs. When she lowered herself, his erection pressed through her jeans, teasing her. When she slid against the bulge, he groaned, rested his hands on her hips, and dug his fingers in. He raked his nails up her spine, under her shirt. At the sharp sensation, she thrust her chest forward, sighing in pleasure.

  “Do you ever play with yourself?” His question seeped into her hyper-alert senses, teasing her and drawing her further into the moment.

  “I thought we were done with that game.” She ground against him, and his cock jerked at the attention.

  “This is a new one.” He dipped his fingers under her bra strap, and glided along her bare skin. When he reached her breasts, he just brushed the outside edge, before he retraced the path to her back. “With any luck, one involving toys. Do you have any?”

  Excitement raced through her, muting her embarrassment but not eliminating it. It wa
s too bad she couldn’t play this game. “Toys? You don’t want to do this without help the first time?”

  “I’m just asking if you have any, not if you’ll go fetch one.” He pushed her shirt over her head, and she raised her arms long enough for him to strip it off. He kissed up her stomach to her sternum, and her skin hummed for more.

  Her nipples ached for attention, straining against her bra. “I don’t.”

  “Not a single one? Be honest.” His warm breath, combined with the teasing question, enticed her.

  If she glossed over the question, would he leave it be? “I left a lot of stuff behind, when I walked out. Furniture. Toys.” She tried to ignore the pit her answer summoned. Despite her attempts to hide it, a strain made its way into her voice.

  He met her gaze and held it for several seconds, before kissing along her exposed skin without removing any more clothing. He dragged his palms up her torso, friction building as he moved, and cupped her breasts. When he brushed her nipples through the silky fabric, a jolt of pleasure yanked a cord inside, drawing out a sigh, and an ache between her legs. She ground against him.

  His thumbs followed a lazy line back and forth, pleasure sparking on each pass. “Did you have a favorite?”

  The question revived vivid memories, and made her body react as much as the physical touch. “I did.” She rocked gently against him, in time with the teasing. Each time she bumped the bulge between them, he grunted. She had to be soaked by now.

  “And…?”

  “It wasn’t a big one.” She needed more contact with him. The slow build was nice, but she wanted to feel more of him. She pulled off his shirt. Hard and smooth except for the fine dark hairs curling down his sternum, the definition of his chest taunted her fingertips. She couldn’t believe she was sharing this. It wasn’t about proving a point or not backing down. It was all about connecting with Ethan on a new level. “Nothing fancy. Nothing rubber. Just a little plastic vibrator.”

  “Mmm.” He kissed through satin and lace. “So you’re more about sensation than size.” He grazed the bra cup with his teeth. “Say you wanted to take things slow. Where would you start?”