Her Leading Man

by Maggie Dallen

  So for the past hour, they’d been holding hands and whispering and kissing for the world to see. That had been just…

  Heavenly.

  Crap. She battled a rising tide of horror as the truth of it washed over her. She’d been having fun. No, she had been having the time of her life. With Ben. The man who she was absolutely not allowed to form feelings for. The man who would be out of her life in a little over a week, never to be seen again.

  Meg was giving her a funny look, and she was grateful that Ben was distracted by the bartender. She had to get her thoughts in order. She had to get a grip.

  “Are you okay?” Meg asked.

  She nodded and took a deep breath. She could do this. Having fun and enjoying a man’s company was not a crime. It would not necessarily end in heartbreak and misery. She just had to focus on all the reasons why they would never be a real couple. His open hatred of committed relationships, for one. And two… Her brain came up blank. There were reasons, she knew there were.

  He was an asshole. Remember that first date?

  When Ben had been rejected and in pain?

  “I’m fine,” she said to her friend. “Just having a little too much fun.”

  Meg’s expression was way too knowing for Caitlyn’s liking. “Sorry if I’ve been, uh…a little preoccupied.”

  Meg was laughing. “Are you kidding? That show you two put on has been all anyone is talking about. I wish I could have videotaped Robert’s expression.”

  Caitlyn laughed. Right, Robert. That was who this had been for.

  Meg headed toward their group of friends, and Caitlyn turned back to Ben. Tomorrow. Tomorrow she would get her head on straight. For now, she was going to enjoy herself.

  It was one night. How much harm could one night do?

  She’d enjoy it while she had it and deal with the repercussions later. But for now, why let pesky emotions spoil a perfect evening?

  Chapter 9

  Whatever whisky Jake was pouring, it was good stuff because Ben could feel the buzz throughout his entire body. Or maybe that was the effect of dancing with Caitlyn. She was a good dancer. Or maybe it was the laughing. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed so much.

  But Robert was gone and their show was over. And Ben had every intention of taking his roommate home and making love to her. Fucking her. Dammit, she’d gotten into his head.

  “You ready, beautiful?” He came up behind her and leaned down so he was talking directly into her ear. The vanilla scent of her perfume filled his senses as she turned her head to smile at him, her lips so close to his, all he would have to do is…

  She beat him to it. Closing the distance to press her lips against the corner of his mouth, sending electricity racing through him. He stepped closer so she could feel the hard length of him against the small of her back. “Maybe it’s time we got out of here.”

  He was gratified to see her pupils dilate and her breathing grow rapid. Her instant transformation from good girl next door to sex goddess would never cease to amaze him.

  For the millionth time that night he wished he could shove it in Robert’s face. What a dick. What a small-brained asshole. Let’s face it, his prick was probably equally small. How else to explain the fact that he couldn’t see the hot, sexy female he’d had right in front of him all those years.

  And then he’d gone and ditched her for the obvious. The man had no taste.

  Thank God it had ended when it had or she might still be with that loser, wasting her time with someone who didn’t appreciate her or see her true beauty and sex appeal. Not like him.

  She flashed him a quick, blinding smile before turning to say her good-byes, gathering her belongings as she did.

  He licked suddenly dry lips. Shit… He was nervous. But that was stupid. Why should he be nervous to take home his flatmate, the woman he’d been sleeping with for a week? This was just another night for them.

  Although it wasn’t. Nothing about this night was like their usual routine. There had been dancing and drinking and laughing and…romance.

  The air left his lungs in a rush, and for a moment his gaze flickered to Alice, who was watching him with an unreadable expression. Her words from earlier in the night came back to him. It isn’t Caitlyn I should be worried about….

  Bullocks. He had this under control. What they had was good. She turned back to him then, her eyes alight with humor and mischief—a sexy kind of mischief that had him so hard he could barely walk. See? This was fun and games. She knew that. He knew that. The supermodel knew nothing.

  So he shoved those thoughts to the side and helped Caitlyn into her coat.

  They barely made it through the front door before they were on top of one another, fumbling with buttons and zippers in a frantic race to strip down to nothing.

  “I think I’m addicted to you,” he growled against her neck as she straddled him on the couch. She was down to her underwear, and he could feel how wet she was through her panties.

  It was the truth. He was addicted to sex with this woman. Hell, he was addicted to her smile, to her laugh, to the way she chewed on her lip when she was concentrating.

  She moaned against his mouth when he stroked her. “More,” she whispered.

  “You want it fast, sweetheart? You want it now?”

  He felt her nod. When she pulled her head back to look at him, her eyes were half closed. She looked as drugged as he felt.

  He wanted to watch her come, despite the fact that he was desperately in need of release. Yanking her panties to the side, he slid a finger inside her, using his palm to press against her clit.

  Her head fell back with a moan of pleasure. God, she was beautiful when she was turned on. He couldn’t tear his eyes from her face as she rocked her hips against his hand, her breasts rubbing against his chest with the movement. He was so ready, but he needed to do this first. He needed to see this.

  When she came apart in his arms, it was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. He loved to see her lose control, and he loved being the one who could make her let it all go.

  He stroked her back as she caught her breath, her head buried in the crook of his neck. He turned so he could drop a kiss on the top of her head. She pulled back at that, her eyes glazed with satisfaction.

  Leaning in, she whispered in his ear, “Now it’s your turn.”

  It was a struggle to breath as her hands made their way over him, moving with a surety and deftness that was heady. She had him right where she wanted him. He was completely under her control. She’d come a long way from the girl who was too shy to touch his cock their first night together.

  That was the last coherent thought in his brain as she positioned herself over him, taking him into her heat.

  * * * *

  Caitlyn watched Ben scoop up another dollop of whipped cream off the top of his breakfast. “Is there actual food under there or did you just order a pile of whipped cream for breakfast?”

  He looked up from his plate with a haughty look—not easy to do with a dollop of whip cream poised in front of his face. “I’ll have you know that French toast is widely regarded as a breakfast of champions.”

  “Mmmhmm.”

  The diner around the corner from her apartment was packed, since it was a Saturday morning. Hungover and miserable, they’d both agreed that it was a greasy spoon kind of morning.

  Several cups of coffee and an omelet under her belt, Caitlyn was no longer miserable. In fact, she was grinning like an idiot at her roommate.

  “What?” he asked. “Did I get whipped cream on my nose or something?”

  “No,” she said with a laugh. “I was just thinking about last night.”

  His wicked grin matched hers. “Which part? Making Robert squirm or the naughty bits that came after?”

  “Shh.” She glanced around to make sure the tables next to them hadn’t heard, positive her cheeks had turned a flaming red.

  Ben l
aughed. “How can someone so brilliantly seductive one moment be so prudish the next?”

  Her blush deepened as her mind flashed back to some of the things they’d done the night before. She shrugged. “I’m complicated, I guess.”

  He was right in a way. There was this other side of her now. A part of herself she hardly recognized. And she owed it all to him.

  She watched her crass, man-child of a roommate delve into his ridiculous breakfast with a silly grin. Who would have thought that this guy, who she’d despised at first sight, would be the one to open her up to her sensual side?

  She definitely hadn’t seen that coming.

  A rush of gratitude toward this man and his influence had her leaning forward. “I want to help you.”

  His eyes shot up from his plate. “Excuse me?”

  “You were amazing last night—”

  He wiggled his brows like Groucho Marx. “Why, thank you.”

  Rolling her eyes, she laughed. “Not that. I mean, yes that was amazing too, but I was referring to your performance at the bar.”

  “Oh that.” His satisfied smirk was oddly charming. “We did make that jackass ex of yours miserable, didn’t we?”

  The memory of Robert’s stunned face when Ben leaned in to kiss her was enough to make her laugh all over again. “I don’t know if he was miserable, but he was definitely surprised.”

  “Felt good, didn’t it?”

  “Mmmm.” She allowed herself a brief moment to revel in the memory before getting back to her point. “That’s why I want to help you.”

  He leaned over and lowered his voice. “You helped me quite a bit last night.”

  “How is your mind so thoroughly entrenched in the gutter this early in the morning?”

  He shrugged. “It’s a gift.” He took another bite and then pointed his spoon at her like a sword. “Okay then, spill. How exactly do you think you can help me?”

  “I can do the same for you,” she said. At his blank look, she added, “I’m going to help you make your ex jealous.”

  The side of his mouth twitched up in amusement, and for a moment Caitlyn’s excitement waned and her stomach fell. Oh crap. Of course he was amused. How conceited of her to think that she would be enough to make his ex jealous. The woman was a freakin’ model. She’d probably laugh at the idea of him moving on with her—

  “That is a fantastic idea.” He cut off her downward spiral into self-esteem hell.

  “Yeah?” She could hear the doubt in her voice.

  “Are you kidding me?” His entire face was lit up with excitement. “It would drive her nuts to see me with someone like you.”

  Someone like you? What did that mean? Maybe she didn’t want to know. “Okay then, so how do we do this?”

  Ben leaned back in his chair, his eyes looking over her shoulder as he appeared to give it some thought. “The Christmas party,” he finally said.

  “The Christmas party?” she echoed.

  “Our office Christmas party. It’s in two weeks. If I know Olivia—and I do—she won’t be able to resist going with Alejandro, if for no other reason than to make me furious.”

  He muttered something about the spawn of Satan under his breath, and Caitlyn waited for him to continue.

  Ben took her hand in his and met her gaze. “Caitlyn, will you be my date to the party?”

  A rush of excitement swept over her from the physical contact or the thought of resurrecting their roles from the night before or maybe it was a combination of the two. “I would love to.”

  He smiled back at her and the air rushed from her lungs. God, that smile was hot.

  As if reading her mind, he leaned in once more. “Now that’s settled, what do you say you and I pick up some whipped cream from the corner store and see what other uses we can find for it.”

  She pretended to think it over. As if she would turn down the chance to try out something new in bed with Ben. The clock was ticking on their little arrangement and she meant to make the most of it. “We’ll have to be quick. I’ve got to help clean up the theater today.”

  His face fell. “On a Saturday?”

  She rolled her eyes. “It’s always on a Saturday, Mr. Perceptive.”

  He grumbled a bit under his breath. All she caught was the tail-end of “rather hang out at a dilapidated old scrap heap than with me.”

  “Hey, what are you calling an old scrap heap?”

  He leaned back in his seat and raised one brow in challenge. “What is your deal with that place? I mean, I get that you love old movies and all, but movies can be viewed anywhere these days, you do realize that, right?” Before she could respond, he leaned over and lowered his voice as if he was letting her in on a secret. “There’s even this thing called streaming movies. You can watch them from the comfort of your own home.”

  “Very funny.” Caitlyn held up a finger to list her reasons. “One, it’s so much better to watch old movies on the big screen the way they were intended. You said so yourself the other night when I took you there to see On the Waterfront.”

  “I was just trying to make you happy to get into your pants when we got home.” Ben took another bite of his French toast and ignored her hand that smacked his shoulder from across the table.

  “I don’t believe you. Anyways, whether you’re a classics fan or not, no one can deny the rich history of that building. The architecture, the memories—”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Ben waved away the rest of her speech. “I’ve heard this spiel from your friend Tamara. What I want to know is, why is this place so important to you?”

  Caitlyn toyed with the remainder of her meal. “It’s home.”

  She glanced up, ready to find Ben smirking at her or focused on his food, at the very least. Instead she found herself the center of his attention, waiting for her to continue.

  It still took her by surprise that he was so interested in her. Robert had never even pretended to take such an active interest in her hobbies, her interests, figuring out what made her tick. And he was supposed to be in it for the long haul. The milk in her fridge had a longer expiration date than she and Ben, yet he never ceased asking her questions, challenging her, making her look at her life from a different point of view. Like now. She’d never really given her attachment to the theater too much thought, but now she took the time to sort through the emotions that always surfaced when she thought about the theater and its possible demise.

  “When I moved here, I didn’t have anyone.” She kept her gaze on her plate, not wanting to see his pity. “My parents died in a car accident when I was in high school and I didn’t have any siblings. I wasn’t terribly close with my extended family who let me live with them while I finished school.”

  She shrugged, as if the memory of those painful years after their death didn’t still hurt. When she glanced up, it wasn’t pity in his eyes but a warmth that eased some of the pain.

  After clearing her throat, she finished her story. “I met Meg freshman year of college and we became good friends. We both loved old movies so we went to The Ellen all the time and found a home for ourselves there. That’s where we met Tamara.”

  Heat flooded her cheeks. That must sound ridiculous, but it was true. “I fit in there, with Meg and Tamara and the rest of the crew.”

  When she looked up again, she saw…not pity…but something dangerously close. Sympathy, or empathy maybe. Either way, that wasn’t what she wanted from this guy. What she wanted was to enjoy the rest of the time that they had together. She leaned over across the table and narrowed her eyes. “Are we going to sit in this diner all morning or are you going to pay the check so we can go have some fun with whipped cream?”

  Ben’s hand shot into the air. “Check please!”

  * * * *

  “What are you so happy about?” Marc grumbled.

  “Seriously,” Tamara added. She pushed back a long lock of blond hair and scowled up at Caitlyn. “I know you were drinking
just as much as the rest of us, so what are you so chipper about?”

  By a unanimous vote the night before, the crew had decided to push the cleanup efforts to the afternoon. The owner had canceled the Saturday afternoon children’s movie matinee anyways, so there was no rush anymore.

  The fact that the owner was slowly but surely eliminating movie showings—which equaled money in his pocket—was definitely not a good sign. It only enforced the rumors that he was planning to sell. If that was the case, one would think he’d invest in an actual cleaning crew, Caitlyn thought as she pushed the mop around.

  She could feel Meg’s eyes on her. The others had lost interest in Caitlyn’s unexpected—and apparently annoying—perkiness in light of their own hungover misery. But Meg, who hadn’t touched a drop for obvious reasons, was clearheaded and frighteningly observant. “You are too happy.”

  Caitlyn glanced over at her, where she was perched on a stool. “Too happy? Is that even a thing?”

  Meg nodded. “It is and you are. What’s up?”

  Caitlyn shrugged. How could she explain? It wasn’t just Robert’s shock last night or the awesome post-breakfast sex this morning. Although both of those were factors. But more than that, it was this sense of freedom.

  Last night had reminded her of something, which she couldn’t put her finger on. For the first time in ages she felt light and carefree. A younger version of herself, not like the old woman who worried too much and was too scared to leave her apartment.

  Meg was still watching her with suspicion, so she shrugged. “I don’t know, just in a good mood, I guess.”

  Meg’s answering murmur sounded skeptical. “It wouldn’t have anything to do with that sexy roommate of yours, would it?”

  Here we go. “For someone who’s been urging me to get a sex life for so long, you’re awfully judgmental of my current situation.”

  Caitlyn kept her tone light, but she saw Meg’s flinch and a stab of guilt hit her in her gut. Her friend was only trying to look out for her. She knew that, but it was still frustrating. How could Meg not see that this was a good thing? Ben was helping her—not just with her ex but with moving on. Even better, he was helping her to see that she wasn’t a cold fish after all. It hadn’t been her that was the problem; it had been them—her and Robert. They hadn’t had passion. Not the kind that she and Ben had at least.