by L.H. Cosway
I handed him the clothes. “Go put these on.”
Damon sat up, took both items, and proceeded to pull off his T-shirt. I stood there, having a second moment of sexy stupor, as his entire muscled torso was revealed to me. When he shrugged into the shirt, I stepped forward with eager hands. “Let me help with the…with the buttons.”
His grin was wide, and it practically undid me. “By all means.”
I silently did up his shirt, my knuckles brushing his skin. It was difficult to process the thought that soon I was going to start dating this man. And soon I could use his entire perfect body as I pleased.
“Will you watch the show?” Damon asked, looking down at me with his handsome brown eyes.
“Of course I’ll watch it.”
“If I know you are, then I think I’ll be okay,” he told me earnestly, and I stepped away, trying to stifle the urge to push him back down on the mattress. Being in his bedroom for any prolonged length of time probably wasn’t a good idea. I’d have to remember that in future.
“Good. I always want you to be okay, Damon,” I whispered in response.
***
“Hey!” Julian complained when I swiped the remote from his lap.
He was lounging on the couch, browsing Facebook on his tablet, and not paying a lick of attention to the television. I sat down beside him and flicked through the channels.
“Damon and Alicia are being interviewed in a few minutes,” I said, and he perked up. I snickered. “Oh, now he’s interested.”
Julian let out a beleaguered sigh. “The starlet has been evading me of late.”
“And there was me believing you when you said it was only a matter of time,” I teased.
“Don’t be cruel. I’ve got an itch that only a five-foot-nine redhead with double-D-cup breasts and a sassy attitude can scratch. Where else am I going to find such a rare treasure?”
“This is London. I’m sure you’ll manage.”
The show came on, and the host was just thanking the previous guests before he started to introduce Damon and Alicia. I gripped the remote, practically holding my breath as they walked out and shook the host’s hand before taking a seat on the couch. Alicia wore a silver sequined dress and matching heels. Her hair was lavishly curled and her makeup done to perfection.
Damon, of course, wore the outfit I’d chosen for him, and something affectionate clutched at my heart to know I’d picked it out. But my God, the camera really did love him. Even though I could tell from his expression and posture that he wasn’t at all comfortable, he still looked so handsome it was practically unfair.
He had the most perfect, flawless skin, with just a hint of a few lines around his eyes that pointed more to maturity than age. His carelessly tousled hair was effortlessly sexy, and the shape of his mouth had my mind tripping back to earlier, when he said he’d prefer to be giving me head than appearing on TV. Shivers overtook me at the visuals that flooded my mind.
“Well, Damon looks like he’d rather be having a flexi-cystoscopy right now,” Julian commented dryly, his thoughts eerily mirroring my own.
I frowned at him. “Do I even want to know what that is?”
“It’s when they stick a lens down your jap’s eye to — ”
Immediately I clamped my hands over my ears. “Oh, my God, shut up. Shut UP.” That was way too much information. Typical Julian.
“Anyway, it’s unpleasant, that’s all you need to know.” He seemed oddly pleased that he’d shocked me. We returned our attentions to the screen, where the host was currently talking.
“Damon Atwood, I’m delighted to have you on the show, as I’m sure our viewers are as well. It’s been almost a decade since we’ve seen you on our screens, and now you’ve decided to take a stab at the West End. What made you choose the stage instead of film this time around?”
There was a pause as the camera panned to Damon. He swallowed, like his mouth was too dry, and all the while my heart was in my throat as I urged him, Speak, Damon, speak. Pretend you’re playing a role. Finally, he answered, and I exhaled with relief.
“Well, I…um, it was all a matter of timing. My grandmother had always wanted me to act again, and it was shortly after she passed away that I was contacted by our director, Jacob Anthony, to audition for the part of Christian.”
“I’m very sorry to hear about your grandmother,” said the host. “But I am surprised that you had to audition. I thought winning an Oscar was the acting equivalent of getting tenure. You can have whatever role you want for life.”
The audience laughed and Damon tugged on his shirt collar, eyes flicking from the host to the studio floor and then back to the host. Alicia let out a sweet chuckle.
“Oh, believe me, honey, no matter how long you’ve been in this business, sometimes you still have to audition. I had to do it for my last movie, Saving Caroline. The director wasn’t convinced I could play a cop.”
“Very true,” said the host. “But in all fairness, you haven’t got an Academy Award under your belt just yet, Miss Davidson.” His tone was teasing, and again there was laughter from the audience. Alicia gave him a flirtatious angry kitten scowl. It was all a part of her persona, of course. When I glanced at Julian, I saw the barest hint of a smirk on his lips. He liked it when she put on the Marilyn Monroe façade. Though I imagined it was more because he relished the challenge of discovering whatever messy, emotional woman existed underneath it.
“I’m joking, I’m joking,” said the host, raising his hands. “But let’s talk about the show for a minute. How are you liking the West End, Alicia? Has it been a big change acclimatising to London after so many years in L.A.?”
“It’s certainly been a learning curve. I’m still not quite sure what to order in restaurants sometimes,” she giggled. “But it’s all good, and I have such great people around me, especially my fellow actors,” she went on, giving Damon a little nudge with her shoulder.
“Oh yes, of course, you both made your starts in Hollywood. You must have a lot in common.”
“We really do,” said Alicia. “Plus, there’s the added benefit of Damon being British, so he can explain things when I get confused. This one time we were out for lunch and I saw a dessert item on the menu called Spotted Dick. I couldn’t stop laughing, and poor Damon was mortified. Thank God he has the patience to put up with me.”
I frowned at the screen, particularly since Damon was looking at Alicia like he didn’t know what she was talking about. Had she just made all that up? Even though it was weird if she had, I still hoped so. I didn’t enjoy thinking of them going out for lunch together, even if it was only as friends.
“It’s certainly one of our more humorously named delicacies.” The host grinned. “You two must be close, then?”
“Very close,” Alicia answered. “I don’t know what I’d do if Damon hadn’t been cast as Christian. It definitely would’ve been a much lonelier experience leaving home to stay in a different country if he hadn’t.”
The host leaned closer, eyeing the two of them. “Am I sensing a romantic link?”
Alicia shifted and crossed one leg over the other, a very coy expression taking shape on her face. “Even if there was, do you think we’d tell you?” She smiled widely.
Again, Damon looked at Alicia like she was taking crazy pills. The host was too focused on the redheaded bombshell to notice, though I doubted the viewers at home would, either. I was attuned to him, and right in that moment I knew Damon was about as uncomfortable as if he were enduring that horrific medical procedure Julian had mentioned.
“They’re not together. Why is she trying to pretend like they are?” I said, almost to myself.
“Because she’s a shrewd businesswoman, Rose,” Julian answered pointedly. “She knows how to pique people’s interest enough to get them curious while still giving nothing away. Bet you a tenner the ticket sales for the show just went through the roof. People will go solely on the off chance that the two famous leads are getting it on behi
nd the scenes.”
“Yeah, but… but she can’t just do that to Damon. He was already freaking out over this interview, and now she’s making shit up off the cuff. It’s going to put him off his game, and he’s been doing so well.”
Julian eyed me perceptively. “Answer honestly — are you really worried about Damon, or are you worried that what she’s said might hold some truth?”
I gaped at him, upset now. “There’s no truth to it. Damon’s not like that. He’s too honourable. If he and Alicia were together, then he’d tell me, and he certainly wouldn’t be pursuing me like he has been if they were.”
Julian’s mouth tilted down in a frown, like he felt bad for what he’d said. There was also a hint of sympathy there, and I hated it. He didn’t understand. He thought I was soft-hearted and naïve, falling for the charms of yet another actor. He didn’t know the intense connection Damon and I shared, didn’t know how it felt when we were alone together.
It wasn’t that my heart was soft, it was that Julian’s was too hard. He simply didn’t understand. The problem was, though he probably hadn’t intended to, he’d planted a seed of doubt.
I just hoped there was no water around that would encourage it to grow.
Nineteen.
*Rose*
I loved the smell of old theatres. Loved the faded grandeur of the velvet upholstered seats, the sense of history in the air, the echoing footsteps of performers long past. In this particular building, there was a cherub missing a foot and some sort of mythical creature playing a lute with no arm. I always liked to notice the things that for most people faded into the background. Sometimes you were so focused on the stage that you forgot to appreciate the aged beauty that surrounded it.
It was Monday morning, our first day of dress rehearsals, and I sat on the edge of the stage, staring out at the empty pews as I finished my cup of coffee. I arrived a little earlier than necessary, eager to get started, and lots of cast members were starting trickle in. There was also the addition of the orchestra musicians, who would be playing their instruments in the pit beneath the stage. There was just something about the music being live, loud and vibrant in your ears, that brought with it a whole new dimension to the experience.
Somebody came and sat down beside me, and my lips curved in a smile as I smelled Damon’s woodsy cologne. Turning to look at him, I saw he was wearing his Christian outfit; black trousers, dress shoes, a white shirt with the collar undone, suspenders and a black hat.
“Good morning,” he said as my eyes wandered over him.
“Morning. Nice threads.” I didn’t mention how hot he looked in period clothing.
His lips twitched. “Thanks.”
A moment of silence elapsed before he asked, “Did you see the interview?”
I nodded, trying to keep a neutral expression. I’d been doing my best not to think about Alicia’s sneaky tactics, trying to get people to wonder if she and Damon were an item.
“I did. You were great.”
Damon let out a self-deprecating sigh. “You’re lying. I was stiff and awkward, but at least it’s over with now.”
I turned my head to him fully and reached out to place my hand over his. “I’m not lying. I was so proud of you sticking it out even though you didn’t want to be there.”
“Aye, well.” He paused before continuing, “I’m sorry about Alicia. I don’t know where she got the idea to pretend there’s something between us….”
“Don’t worry about it,” I cut him off. “She was just being savvy, getting people interested in the show.” It was hard to say the words, but I forced them out. There was no room for any more jealousy between us. I didn’t want there to be. And I trusted Damon, I had to.
His expression was tense as he rubbed the bit of scruff on his jaw. “The show should speak for itself. We shouldn’t need to peddle false gossip to sell tickets.”
I frowned. “No, you’re right, but unfortunately it’s the way of the world sometimes.”
Glancing over his shoulder, I saw Alicia enter the theatre. We made brief eye contact, and there was something vaguely challenging in her expression. I tried to dismiss it, but it niggled at me. A moment later Jacob arrived, calling for Damon and Alicia to follow him to his office. Apparently, he needed a word. For a second I wondered what it was about, but I didn’t think on it too much as I joined Iggy and we began the morning warm-up with the cast.
When Damon returned to the stage area, his expression was furious. What on earth had Jacob said to him to make him look so irate? Was he unhappy with the way the interview had gone yesterday?
Damon’s anger was so virulent that it started to affect the mood of everyone else, and a tense atmosphere fell over the theatre. At one point when Iggy kindly asked him to stand on his mark, he snapped, telling him he’d stand wherever he bloody well pleased. The show of temper was startling, and I felt concerned. I noticed almost absently that Jacob and Alicia were standing off to one side, whispering to each other as though in cahoots.
When I managed to find a spare moment to go to Damon, I placed my hand on his elbow and asked quietly, “Is everything all right?”
His jaw moved, his mouth forming a straight line when he answered curtly, “Everything’s fine.”
I knew he was lying, but I didn’t push him on it. When Iggy called for a break, I went to use the bathroom. At the end of the corridor, I stopped to take a quick drink from a water fountain, and when I turned around Damon was there, his gaze hot and needful. Without a word he took my hand and forcefully pulled me down the hallway.
“Where are we going?” I asked, a little on edge.
He didn’t reply, and when we reached the room he was looking for, he pushed the door open before pulling me inside. I glanced around, seeing it was his dressing room. Damon let go of my hand, and I watched as he strode over to the dresser, his shoulders knit with tension. He let out an impassioned sound of irritation, raked a hand through his hair, then violently shoved a mug off the table in a fit of temper. It fell to the floor and shattered loudly.
I stood there, almost too nervous to speak, as he turned back to me. His gaze was dark – hungry – and when he started to advance on me, I backed up until I hit the wall. Damon stopped when he reached me, his chest flush with mine, and grabbed my face in his hands. Before I even had a chance to react, he planted his mouth on mine, kissing me like he was starving for it.
I instantly softened, my anxiousness melting away and another feeling building: arousal. There was something about Damon’s kisses, something that made me want to open up to him completely. My lips, my arms…my legs.
His tongue swept inside my mouth, hard and frantic, and a small moan emanated from the back of my throat. He grunted, one foot kicking my leg aside so he could brace his knee between my thighs.
“Damon,” I panted as he fumbled with the buttons on my blouse, flicking them open until my dark purple bra was exposed. Every tiny hair on my body stood on end when he moved his knee against the apex of my thighs, pressing down where a coil of desire lingered.
“I just need….” he began breathily but trailed off, too focused on what he was doing.
His mouth left my lips to trail across my jaw, down my neck and chest, until he reached the rise of my cleavage. There he pressed his lips to the tops of my breasts while letting out a deep rumbling groan.
“I just need to touch you.” He finally finished his earlier statement. Right after he said it, his hand found the waistband of my leggings, slipping beneath to brush over the lace of my underwear. I mewled and moved my hips, desperate for him to go all the way. Touch me where I wanted him most.
His mouth returned to mine, his tongue sweeping in once more and tasting me like I was his favourite everything. When his fingers slid past the seam of my knickers, I sucked in a harsh breath. His touch was gentle at first, explorative, but I knew he had to be able to feel how wet I was. His thumb swept over my clit once, twice, three times, and I tilted my hips more to allow him gre
ater access.
“Soft,” he whispered huskily in my ear before sucking on the lobe. “Touching you gives me peace, Rose.”
“Please,” I begged, not entirely sure what for.
His fingers drew circles over my clit, and he stared down at me in fascination, his eyes glittering. They closed for a second, his mouth hanging open. When he opened them again, they practically scorched. “Only you, petal,” he said, thumb pressing down on my clit as his fingers moved lower. He pressed one inside me, and I moaned so loudly I started to blush, my attention going to the door to make sure it was still closed. At the same time, I tried not to make any more noise for fear of someone passing by and hearing.
To this end, I bit my lower lip to stifle any sounds. Damon’s erection pushed at my belly, and for a second I wished he’d undo his trousers so I could see. I wanted him inside me, wanted to feel what it was like to be joined with him completely.
His other hand went to the lip I was biting, pulling it free before slowly moving his thumb inside. It mirrored the movement of his thumb down below, making small, delicious circles in my mouth. I sucked on him then, feeling an orgasm building. He pushed another finger inside me, and I practically came apart right there and then. I felt so full with him, couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have him make love to me.
His thumb left my mouth to cup my cheek as he bent to kiss me once more. It was a deep kiss, full of unspoken need. Now his fingers were focused solely on making me come. I could tell he wanted desperately to see me orgasm because he seemed to grow more frenzied, every muscle in his body coiled tight.
“Oh, fuck, oh, God,” I swore past his lips as a sharp, mind-blowing pleasure swept over me. My sex pulsed as I came and Damon continued to stroke me, but slower now, ever slower like he was matching the waves of my orgasm until they finally petered out.
Our gazes locked, and I couldn’t look away. I saw a world of emotion in those deep brown irises as my brain sputtered and tried to comprehend what had just happened. He’d pounced on me for some unknown reason. There was a desperation about him, and I needed to find out its source.
