by JC Harroway
He growled, tearing his mouth away and wrapping his free arm around my hips. Sweat misted his skin and his knees beat a steady rhythm on the cupboard door of the vanity as he slammed into me.
With my eyes locked with his, wonder exploded in my chest as he sought his release with grim determination. He bellowed a broken cry, tossing his head back as he came, his firm buttocks clenching beneath my calves as he convulsed. His hips slowed and he collapsed forward onto my chest, panting. ‘I’m yours, Soph, I’m yours.’
***
The Hollywood elite and popular primetime television stars assembled in downtown LA for the Emmy Awards, dressed in their finery. The roads around the venue were cordoned off and thousands of onlookers lined the streets, hoping to catch a glimpse of an A-list celebrity.
Stepping from the town car after Nathan, I swallowed back the familiar apprehension, determined to appear composed. Terrified of putting a foot wrong, I gripped his fingers tighter and lifted the hem of my gown so it wouldn’t catch in the four-inch heels Tash had chosen for me.
The noise was deafening—a wall of sound raining down on us accompanied by the flashes from a thousand cameras. Nathan shone his signature smile at the crowds, raising his free hand in acknowledgement of their whoops and cheers. He was magnificent, dazzling, and the wails of appreciation for the crowd’s idol infected me until I too wanted to throw my arms around his neck and drag him into my embrace.
Dressed in a dark three-piece suit and white shirt open at the collar, his hair lifting slightly in the early evening breeze, he sent spasms of longing through my belly—an extraordinary achievement considering the two orgasms he’d given me before we left for the awards.
‘Okay?’ He smiled down at me, squeezing my hand.
I nodded, not trusting my voice, and return-squeezed his fingers.
‘Right, let’s do this.’ With his hand in the small of my back, I walked the plush red carpet beside Nathan, happy to be overshadowed by him.
The walkway was crowded with celebrities, the buzz of conversation and clouds of expensive fragrance filling the air. Thick red rope separated the carpeted area from the hordes of reporters lining the route. All the major networks were present, their anchors as glamorously dressed as the stars.
We stopped at regular intervals so Nathan could give interviews to some of the media clamouring for him. Lucy, Nathan’s publicist, had prepared me on how to answer any questions I might be asked and in particular, what to avoid saying. I hoped to keep as low a profile as possible, although attending on the arm of such a spectacular and sought-after specimen as Nathan was like wearing a neon sign reading I’m with him. Fortunately, no one seemed to care who I was, and I was happy to lurk in the shadows of Nathan’s radiance.
A pattern was quickly established. Nathan would answer a few questions about his nomination. Most of the interviewers would then ask him which designer he was wearing and the occasional curious anchor would ask about his date.
I smiled, making platitudes whilst avoiding giving any real information away. By the fifth interview I’d become quite adept at the fake-smile, non-committal answer thing, grateful to have Nathan’s solid heat beside me to provide vital ballast against the crazy.
Inside, the crowds of partygoers swallowed us. Nathan introduced me to the rest of the cast of his comedy series, a delightful bunch of Brits who welcomed me into their huddle with air kisses and a glass of champagne. I marvelled at how practiced people were at cheek kissing without leaving a smear of lipstick on the recipient’s camera-ready face. The air resounded with laughter and the hollow sounds of hearty back slaps.
We were filing into the auditorium when Claudia appeared in a show-stopping red gown. It took me a few seconds to place the woman she was with, my attention focused on the duration of the embrace Claudia lavished on Nathan. Recognition dawned and I smiled at Tia, the buzz of conversations around us too loud for small talk.
Wearing olive green, her dark hair elegantly coiffed and her bronze skin glowing, she smiled at me before air-kissing Nathan and trailing off after Claudia.
I glugged the last of my champagne and handed the empty glass to a waiter, debating the merits of running a poll to establish how many women present at the event had intimate knowledge of my man.
The warmth of Nathan’s hand on the skin of my back brought me back to the present, grounding me from my flight of fancy. He was here with me. This was his big night and I would not allow my insecurities to spoil this for him.
I leaned into him, burying my nose in the warm skin above the collar of his shirt and inhaling his comforting scent. He stooped, bringing his ear in contact with my lips, and I whispered, ‘Good luck.’
His arm curled around my hip, pulling me closer. ‘Thanks, beautiful. I apologise in advance—these things go on a bit.’
‘I don’t mind. I’m having fun celebrity spotting, and if I get really bored, perhaps I can persuade you to give me a tour of the cleaning cupboard.’
His gaze glowed, even as his eyebrow rose with reproach. His lips brushed my ear, sending delicious flutters down to my toes. ‘Did I leave you unfulfilled earlier?’ His words were low—a husky reminder of his own replete utterances, which had been growled against my skin with such intensity, I could almost feel them there like a brand.
New waves of arousal rippled beneath my skin, and I swallowed my impatience for the next four hours to be over. I opened my eyes and turned to him, my feet shuffling forward with the crowd of their own accord. My voice, when it emerged, was lust-drunk. ‘I think I’ll need a reminder. The details are a little … sketchy.’
‘I’ll be happy to oblige, Soph. Be it in a cleaning cupboard or anywhere else.’ He turned to face me, gripping my waist with both hands, his fingers flexing—a tell of his own rising arousal. ‘You insatiable temptress. Now I hope I don’t win—I’ll have to collect my award with the hard-on I’m going to have all evening and wind up on Celebrity Scandals tomorrow.’
We were seated with the rest of the cast with Tyler in the row behind us. He kissed my cheek, hugging me, and enquired about Jess.
Nathan was right. The ceremony was long, and at times tedious, but the presence of the constantly rolling cameras demanded game faces be worn at all times.
My cheeks ached with the effort of maintaining a serene smile and the only reprieve came during the commercial breaks, when the band played covers of popular songs and people moved around the auditorium, greeting those they’d missed earlier and photo bombing other people’s selfies.
At long last, Nathan’s category was announced. As the host read the nominees for the Outstanding Lead Actor in a Comedy Series, the excited chatter in our row died down. A cameraman arrived in the aisle closest to Nathan, projecting his face onto the massive screen above the stage. In my lap, Nathan’s hand gripped mine and I clung to his fingers with equal force.
Nerve-wracking moments later, the winner was announced. The guests seated around us hollered and cheered as Nathan’s shocked face lit up the big screen once more. Giving my hand one last squeeze, Nathan grazed my cheek with his lips before rising to hug the co-stars closest to him on his way to the stage.
The stinging of my palms finally registered, and I eased my clapping to less punishing force. An elated Tyler embraced me, but my focus was honed on Nathan as he accepted his award with a slightly bemused smile and a flash of his dimple.
I smiled, knowing his fingers would be itching to ruffle his hair. His acceptance speech was appropriately succinct, thanking his co-stars, the writers, directors and crew. My greedy gawk flitted between the real Nathan and the massive Nathan on the screen overhead. When he paused and his eyes darkened to that sultry glower I knew so well, my breath caught, and I held his eye contact across the rows of audience members that separated us.
I have one more thank you for my loved ones.’
Non-specific, his words could be interpreted for family, but his stare never wavered and my chest fluttered with the certainty that they were i
ntended for me.
‘Thank you for supporting me and encouraging me to chase to my dreams.’
I was airborne, rising up out of my seat to float above the crowds on a wave of euphoria. Only this time, I wanted to fall, to slam back to the ground with a hedonistic rush, safe in the knowledge I’d be caught and the ride would be worth the terror.
Chapter Nineteen
MY feet stumbled and I laughed, burying my head in Nathan’s crisply laundered shirt. ‘I’m sorry, I’m not a great dancer.’
His hand in the small of my back righted me, holding me close to his hard body. My spirit soared, invincible.
Leading me around the crowded dance floor at The Governors Ball, he grinned. ‘You dance just fine, Soph, and the point of this exercise is that your gorgeous body is pressed to mine, giving me a hard-on in a very public place. Short of finding that cleaning cupboard and making you come all over my face, it’s the closest we can be until I get you home.’
I secretly loved the hard evidence of his desire for me, which was currently pressed into my belly. In a room full of some of the most polished, successful and beautiful women in the world, the power he handed me was a heady aphrodisiac.
‘Well, Mr Banks—Emmy winner—you’re going to have to get yourself under control as I have to visit the ladies’ room.’ I eased away from him so that I was no longer crushing his erection between our bodies.
‘Okay, beautiful girl, give me a minute here.’ He closed his eyes and nibbled at his lush lower lip, presumably focused on re-directing blood flow away from his groin.
Jealous of his teeth, I regretted mentioning my bodily functions. The trip to the cleaning cupboard looked more appealing by the minute and I had some other bodily urges that were now equally pressing.
‘Perhaps you should ask one of your co-stars to dance while I’m gone?’ I suggested, the demands of my bladder outweighing those of my libido, at least temporarily.
His eyes flew open. ‘And it’s gone. Thanks, Soph, that did the trick. Come and find me when you’re done.’ He brushed his lips across mine, sending tendrils of desire through me. Casting him a saucy grin that promised retribution when I returned, I made my way to the restrooms on slightly shaky legs.
The glamour and sophistication of the ballroom continued into the ladies, and I sighed with relief when I saw there wasn’t much of a queue. I emerged from the cubicle and washed my hands, drying them in the thick single-use hand towels embroidered with the word Emmys. The vanity was crowded with large glass bowls full of complimentary cosmetics and women rummaged with glee, filling their handbags.
Dropping the towel into the basket provided, I opened my clutch to freshen my lip-gloss, which had pretty much disappeared after the three-course dinner we’d been served.
The note was tucked into the inside pocket and I grinned—Nathan. He’d drawn a stick man and stick woman holding hands on a carpeted path with the words Thanks for supporting me x.
My heart fluttered in my chest and I pressed the note to my lips before tucking it back inside my purse. Aware of someone in my personal space, I looked up at a staring Claudia.
‘Love letter?’ Her harmless words and the tone in which they were delivered, jarred. I ignored them, twisting the cap from my lip-gloss.
She made no move to leave, so I turned back to the mirror. If she wanted to be rude, I couldn’t stop her.
Hostility crackled in the air, her stare burning a path across the side of my face closest to her. Desperate to avoid a scene at such a high-profile event, I hastily applied a slick of gloss to my lips and ignored the trembling of my hand. What was her problem?
‘I’m surprised to see you still hanging around him.’ She fluffed her hair with a manicured hand.
I dug my fingernails into my palm to stem my growing irritation. ‘Are you?’
She didn’t seem to care how much attention we drew, her posture braced for a fight and her pupils dilated. I wondered if the latter was pharmacological.
Her smirk turned feral, a nasty twist of her pouty lips. ‘Tia’s been talking about him all night—the horny bitch loved that photo shoot they did together.’ She turned to the mirror, rubbing at her nose and watching my reaction in the glass.
Biting my lip until I tasted blood, I snapped my clutch closed, determined to avoid her baiting. I’d promised myself I’d shelve my jealousy—Nathan deserved to celebrate his success tonight without my insecurities resurfacing, and I wouldn’t let this woman derail what had become one of the best nights of my life.
I’d been at the photo shoot. He’d come home to me, made love to me. It was a job to him, no matter how realistic he made it seem.
‘She said he had a boner all the time they were shooting and that you’d just stood there like a lovesick puppy, watching.’ She rummaged in the freebie bowls, selecting a blood red lipstick, which she slicked across her lips with practiced skill before dropping it back inside the bowl. Her smile of triumph was a red slash across her beautiful face and her eyes sparkled with malice. Obviously she had feelings for Nathan, or she’d have no reason to be so hostile to someone she barely knew.
‘That’s unhygienic. You’re not supposed to put them back.’ I turned to leave when her hand stayed me, clutching at my forearm with bruising force.
‘Enjoy the rest of the night with him. It’ll likely be your last. Nathan’s on the rise and the last thing he needs is the kind of bad publicity associated with people like you.’
I wanted to slap her but so many things held me back—my upbringing, my profession, my British stiff upper lip, Nathan’s reputation. Still, my palm tingled to make contact with her smug face.
She wasn’t finished with me and I wondered what she’d taken that turned her from the composed and elegant movie star I’d first met into this raging vitriol-spewing banshee. ‘You’re not from this world and London is a long way away. You know what a horny fucker he is, right? Tia said she could barely walk while they were an item.’ A tinkle of laughter. ‘When the boring little mouse is away …’
Finally, she saw the reaction she wanted flash across my face. I yanked my arm free of her grasp, my head spinning with this new knowledge. Tia and Nathan had history? Why wouldn’t he tell me that? Semi-naked images of Nathan and Tia blinded me, forcing my stinging eyes shut. No wonder he’d made it seem so realistic—they had chemistry, knew each other’s bodies intimately.
I tasted bile and swallowed back the bitterness, determined to leave with my dignity intact. Her words resonated deeply inside me, like a tuning fork applied to my soul, but I denied her the pleasure of witnessing my devastation.
It took every ounce of strength I possessed, but I smiled at her, coaching my face to unaffected serenity. I’d faced up to bullies before—the name-calling, the words of hatred thrown like a cup of acid in the face to achieve maximum damage. Claudia was just a beautiful and famous bully. She wouldn’t see the pain her words had caused me.
Without a word, I fluffed up my hair in the mirror before spinning on my heel with my head held high. I moved quickly away from the ladies without stopping to see if she followed. The sound of blood rushing through my ears deafened me, blocking out the music from the ballroom. The delicious three-course dinner churned uncomfortably in my stomach, threatening to reappear, and a red mist coloured my vision as I strode towards the foyer.
The woman I collided with yelped and stumbled, her fall broken by the grip I had on her arms. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?’
She clutched her ankle, righting herself with a wince as she tried to weight bear on her injured foot.
‘There’s a chair over there. Let me help you.’ She leaned her weight on me and hobble-hopped to one of the upholstered armchairs decorating the expansive foyer. This part of the venue was quiet, being close to the kitchen entrance, the cloakroom and the exits.
‘I’m okay, I just twisted my ankle.’ She bent to slip off her heel. ‘I wasn’t looking where I was going. It was my fault.’
My face b
urned. ‘No, I was distracted. Would you like me to have a look? I’m a doctor and I feel responsible.’ I’d allowed Claudia to rile me up and now I’d likely ruined this woman’s evening.
She shrugged. ‘Sure. Although I can’t let you shoulder all the blame. I was angry at my date, who’d abandoned me. I should have been looking where I was going.’
Kneeling at her feet, I placed my purse on the ground and pulled her injured foot into my lap. I gently rotated her ankle, watching her face for a reaction. ‘Having a bad night then? First man troubles and then a collision outside the ladies’ room?’
She laughed, her lips pressing together when I probed a sore spot. ‘Men. Why do we let them treat us that way? Or perhaps it’s just me—I’ve had enough man troubles to last me a lifetime.’
I had no answers for her. I’d thought Nathan and I had been heading towards a future, but now, discovering he’d held back his past relationship with Tia, he felt like a stranger again. Had I over-interpreted his words, seen more meaning than was intended? The taste of betrayal lingered in my mouth and I cursed myself for the fool I was. ‘I think it’s just a sprain. You should rest it—elevate it if you can. I’ll ask the kitchen for an ice pack for you. I’m afraid I can’t fix the man troubles as easily. If I could, I’d start with my own.’
She rolled her eyes. ‘You too? Look, my night’s over—no more dancing for me even if my date hadn’t run off with some leggy model. Keep me company while I wait for a taxi?’ She patted the chair next to her and I obliged, only too happy to unburden my own aching feet for a few minutes while I collected my tattered thoughts.
‘I’ll do the ice pack thing at home, I promise.’ We sat in silence, people-watching until she said, ‘Commitment issues—my date. Yours?’
‘Oh, it’s … complicated.’
‘I love complicated—it’s so good when it’s good, but then when it turns bad? Man does it hurt. Am I right?’ She pulled her injured foot into her lap and began massaging the ankle joint.
