by Katie Allen
Jamie set down his own utensil and pried her hand free of his pant leg. Reluctantly, she released her grip and was rewarded when his fingers tangled with hers.
“It isn’t ‘nonsense,’” Jamie countered in a calm voice that was belied by the tension in his squeezing hand. “Tophie’s an excellent actress.”
With an almost inaudible snort, Ben took another unappreciated bite of dessert. “So are the other millions of women who think they’re one audition away from being the next big thing.”
His fingers tightening until his grip was almost painful, Jamie sat back in his chair. “Since Tophie supports herself, I can’t see how it’s any of your business.”
Ben’s face darkened until it was nearing the color of brick. He opened his mouth to reply, but Tommy Marchant interrupted before things got even uglier.
“Speaking of actresses, did you hear about Delayney Dupris? Sixteen years old and back in treatment for the third time. The sources are saying that this time it’s for sex addiction.” There was a lustful gleam in his eyes as he passed on the nugget of gossip, and Topher ducked her head to hide the way her nose scrunched in distaste. Despite the ick factor of Tommy’s pervy, pedophile tendencies, though, he did succeed in turning the conversation, so Topher was reluctantly grateful to him for that.
“Kids nowadays.” Ben finished off his dessert. “Drugs, alcohol, indiscriminate sex. I saw it with Coco’s friends. They grow up being handed everything. If they don’t have to work for it, they won’t appreciate it. Bet they wouldn’t be blowing all their money on cocaine if they had to buy it from their Dairy Queen earnings.”
Tiny gave Barb an indulgent smile. “It’s hard not to spoil our little girls, though.”
“No,” Ben snapped. “It’s not hard at all. You just have to have a little self-discipline.”
It was Tiny’s turn to flush red. “Are you saying I don’t have self-discipline?”
Giving Tiny Mike’s arm a pat, Cecelia gave a nervous titter. “Of course not. There’s nothing wrong with indulging our babies. Your Barb is a darling—and so thin.”
“Shall we move to the theater room?” Julia stood. “The Golfinis were kind enough to bring a copy of Terris Aitkin’s newest film.”
Tommy made an impressed sound as he rose. “Down Below? That won’t even be out on DVD until March. I heard Dove Berand is excellent in it. She was gorgeous back in the day.”
“Back in the day?” Julia echoed, her forehead scrunched in confusion. “Isn’t she only twenty-five?”
With a nervous laugh, Tommy shrugged. “Of course, she’s still pretty enough now. Which way to the theater?”
Except for Jamie and Topher, the rest of the guests rose and followed Julia out of the dining room. Topher was relieved to see that Tiny’s face was back to its normal shade, and even more thankful that Ben’s inquisition was over. When she turned her head after watching Tiny’s bulldog-lookalike bodyguard disappear through the doorway, she found a spoon hovering in front of her face.
Frowning at Jamie, she asked, “Is this pity dessert?” Instead of answering, he just smirked at her. She shrugged and closed her lips around the spoon, groaning with pleasure when the taste hit her tongue. Jamie slid the spoon free and replaced it with his mouth.
Topher’s eyes wanted to roll back into her skull. Combining Leigh’s cooking with Jamie’s kisses was like stacking bliss on top of bliss. It was so good, she was surprised her brain didn’t explode from pleasure overload. All too soon, though, Jamie pulled back. With a small sound of disappointment, Topher tried to chase his retreating lips, making him chuckle.
“Would you hate it if we missed the movie?” she asked.
“Definitely not.” Standing, he held a hand out to Topher.
Taking it, she pulled herself to her feet, but she didn’t stop when she was upright. Instead, she followed the momentum until she was plastered against his chest. His hands swept down her back to cup her butt. As he lifted her off the floor, she gave a squeak of surprise. Her arms wrapped around his neck as her legs circled his waist, gripping him like one of those latch-on bear toys that she’d hooked to her pencils in elementary school.
He walked them both out of the dining room, heading for the stairs leading to the bedrooms rather than the lower-level theater.
“Your stepdad is kind of a dick,” he said conversationally.
With a choke of startled laughter, she shook her head against his neck. “He’s just... Ben. After all, I’m not exactly the model daughter he’d hoped for.”
“You’re fine,” he stated with such confidence that tears burned the back of her nose and eyes.
“Thanks.” With his skin right there, she couldn’t pass up the opportunity to kiss him. After all, this was her Jamie-Bear. Touching him whenever possible was pretty much irresistible.
When her lips brushed his throat, she felt his chest expand from a quick inhale. Smiling against his skin, she explored, trying to determine what type of touch in which exact spot would draw the greatest reaction from him. Jamie, she discovered, liked things on the rough side, especially in the areas thickened by scar tissue. It was like a science experiment, she decided, gently closing her teeth on his collarbone. A very hot science experiment.
“No.”
Jamie had just climbed the first few stairs when the female voice brought them to a halt. Topher drooped in disappointment, and she felt Jamie sigh even as his grip on her tightened.
“But, Jules...” Topher full-out whined. They’d been so close to escape.
“You two are not leaving me with that group,” Julia whisper-yelled. “It’s bad enough that you both disappeared before dinner, leaving me to duck the various cooking utensils that Leigh throws at my head every time I even peek into the kitchen. You are not going to sneak away to your room for some sexy fun time when I’m stuck in the theater with the most obnoxious guests in the history of the world!” Her voice rose at the end, bringing up Topher’s head in surprise. It was the closest she’d ever heard Julia come to an actual shout.
“Okay, Jules,” Topher said carefully. “You can put away the scary eye-lasers of death. We’ll go watch the movie and suffer along with you.” She wiggled to let Jamie know she wanted him to put her down. Instead of releasing her, he pulled her tighter against him. “Jamie-Bear, you can’t carry me around in front of everyone. It’d be weird.”
Although his grunt sounded annoyed, his grip loosened as he allowed her feet to touch the floor. Giving him a grin, Topher straightened her dress that had once again turned into a shirt. He didn’t smile back. Instead, he bent and kissed her hard. By the time he raised his head, Topher had forgotten pretty much everything except a need for more kissing. From Jamie’s faint yet extremely smug smile, she looked as brain-wiped as she felt.
“Uh, right. So we should probably, I don’t know, go?” she babbled, moving to link arms with a slightly less crazed-looking Julia. “Watch the movie? And chit-chat with unpleasant guests?”
“I keep trying to think of what terrible thing I’ve done to deserve being trapped here with these people.” Julia sighed and leaned her head closer to Topher’s as they walked toward the stairs to the theater with Jamie following close behind.
“It would’ve had to have been something super-extra bad, too. I mean, we haven’t known each other for very long, but you don’t seem like the type of person to, like, bomb an orphanage or something. It would take a lot to build up enough bad karma to have to deal with the Golfinis, Peyton, my parents and creepy Tommy Marchant.” Topher couldn’t hold back a shudder. “By the time the holidays are over, you’ll probably qualify for sainthood.”
“Not if I kill them all first,” Julia muttered darkly. Although Jamie chuckled at that, Topher gave the other woman a sharp look. Julia had sounded a little too serious for comfort.
“What movie are we watching again
?” Topher asked, more to move the conversation away from guest-icide than out of curiosity. She knew it had been mentioned earlier, but she’d been distracted, as usual, by her surprisingly touchy-feely Jamie-Bear.
“Down Below.”
Both Jamie and Topher groaned in unison at Julia’s response.
“Seriously?” Topher whined, and Jamie didn’t even chastise her for it that time. Apparently, Down Below was bad enough that he considered whining an appropriate response. “Isn’t that the movie about the miners who get trapped after an explosion, talk about the meaning of life for two hours—”
“Three hours,” Jamie interrupted.
That information brought an even whinier edge to her voice. “Three hours? Ugh. And don’t the miners all die in the end?”
“Don’t give away the ending!”
At Julia’s protest, Topher stared. “Every single person in the world already knows that everyone dies at the end of Down Below. You’d have to be, like, one of those non-talking monks living on a mountain with other non-talking monks to not know the ending. No, I take that back. Even those monk guys know the ending of Down Below, and they all silently agree that the movie sucks super-big monkey balls.”
Julia gave a huff of amused exasperation. “Fine. They’re all going to die. We know that they’re all going to die. Most likely, we’ll all wish we were dead long before they die in the movie. I don’t care. You are going to suffer right along with me until everyone is dead, do you understand?”
“Yes, Jules,” Topher agreed meekly. Drill-Sergeant Julia was scary.
Despite that, Jamie looked more amused than frightened as he directed Topher with a hand on her back toward the stairs leading to the lower-level theater. “To our deaths, then.”
* * *
“That was horrible.” Topher lay on Jamie’s bed, sprawled on her back in the same position in which she’d landed after falling onto it a few minutes earlier.
“The movie or the company?” Jamie’s voice came from the bathroom. The door was ajar, giving Topher quite the view of his boxer-brief covered buns if she twisted her head just right.
“Both.” She craned her neck until his whole backside was in sight and then smiled. “Definitely both, although the company was worse. No, the movie was worse. Wait—there was that really awful and awkward few minutes when Tiny was making inappropriate jokes about the miners’ probable gayness. That was the worst. It also made me wonder if Tiny’s on the down-low. Maybe with his hovering security guy? The one who looks like the love child of The Hulk and a bulldog?”
“Disturbing image.” He walked into the bedroom, catching Topher in mid-ogle. She really couldn’t resist though—his front was even more appealing than his back.
“Uh-huh,” she muttered, having completely lost track of the conversational thread. Scars interrupted the smooth flow of skin over his chest, stomach and thighs, but that didn’t detract from his perfection. Instead, it seemed to highlight the strength of the muscles beneath his marred skin. Topher scanned him from his bare feet—even his toes were oddly sexy—up his legs, over the bulge distending the black fabric, across the tight muscles of his stomach and chest. It was only when she reached his face that she realized from his clenched jaw and averted gaze that something was wrong.
Sliding off the bed, she stood, the Malibu trim of her sleep set—this one mint green—drifting into place around her. Although she wasn’t a natural seductress, she pulled on every one of her acting skills to channel her inner sex kitten as she made her way across the room to Jamie.
Surprise had erased some of the stress in his expression, Topher was happy to see. It made her even more determined to wipe away his tension completely. In her bare feet, she only reached his chest, but she decided that she could work with that.
“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice reduced to a low rumble. A shiver of delight worked its way through her at the thought that she could affect him so intensely just by walking across a room.
“Nothing.” Blinking up at him, her most guileless expression in place, she tiptoed her fingers up his bare chest, resisting the almost overwhelming urge to linger, to stroke and caress and maybe even pinch a little.
He rewarded her touch with a reluctant smile. When he glanced down at where her fingertips made contact with his skin, the small grin fell away. “Grisly, isn’t it?”
Her hand paused, and she looked up at him, startled. “What is?”
Silently, he gestured at the scar tissue that thickened the skin above dents of missing muscle tissue.
“No.” Her lips brushed one scar a few inches from his left nipple. Unable to resist, she moved to the small nub and sucked at it until he gasped. “It’s not grisly at all. You’re beautiful.”
Topher knew that if she kept talking, she’d end up saying stupid and wrong things, so she put her mouth to work, instead. After playing with his nipple for a while, she moved to the left and took her time torturing that one. Her teeth came into play, making him hiss and groan in what she hoped were positive reactions. Honestly, though, she was too turned on to stop. Even if he was having a miserable time, Topher was going to continue touching and tasting him.
She made her way down his abs, licking the dip between the rises and making his muscles jump beneath her tongue. When she dropped to her knees and reached his waistband, he sucked in a breath.
“Tophie...”
Her name was a warning—one she ignored. Hooking her fingers in the top of his underwear, she carefully pulled the material out to free his erection before tugging the boxer briefs down to his ankles. Despite his earlier growl, he stepped out of his last piece of clothing willingly enough, leaving him completely stripped.
“Wow.” She leaned in close enough that he must have been able to feel her breath against his skin. “You’re huge. Like, porn-star huge. Not that I’ve watched porn—well, much. I mean, everyone has watched it a little, at some time or other. Usually, I find porn to be funny rather than a turn-on. If you were in porn, though, I’d think I’d like it a lot—in a sexy way.”
“Tophie...” His voice sounded strangled. “If you don’t stop talking about my dick, I’m going to come on your face like that porno you keep mentioning.”
Cocking her head while looking up at him, she considered that. Surprisingly, the mental image didn’t disgust her as it would’ve if the guy had been anyone but her Jamie. “Okay.”
His body jerked as if he’d been punched in the stomach. “Toph—” He sucked in a breath and tried again, this time more calmly. “Baby girl, I’m not going to give you a facial like I’m a fourteen-year-old with no self-control.”
“Okay. It’s not that I especially want you to come on my face.”
He made an odd-sounding groan, but she talked over him.
“I’m just fine with whatever you want to do to me or with me or on me,” she said, feeling her way as she spoke. Her words flowed from her brain to her mouth without any sort of filter in between, leaving her feelings hanging, raw and exposed, out in the open. “I figure that you can tell me what you’d like to try, and I’ll tell you what I fantasize about, and we can do...well, everything.” For two weeks, at least, a pessimistic portion of her brain reminded her, but she shut it down quickly. If it was going to be just two weeks, then it was going to be the most amazing, mind-blowing, orgasm-filled two weeks of her entire life.
The only sound he made was the hiss of another sucked-in breath as he stared down at her, so she figured that she needed to make her confession first.
“Okay...here goes. Well, obviously, I like all the daddy-little-girl stuff. The whole butt thing surprised me, but I’d be willing to play more with that, although I’d require patience and lots of lube.” It was too embarrassing to keep eye contact, so she refocused on his large and surprisingly attractive penis. “Uh, I wouldn’t mind messing around
with food—especially if it’s Leigh’s food. Spanking sounds good—like, really good—but I don’t think I’d want to go any further than that in the pain department.”
She dared a quick upward glance to find Jamie staring at her like she would eye one of Leigh’s desserts—as if he wanted to savor her, eat her, and keep her forever, even as, at the same time, he couldn’t believe that she was on his plate. Dropping her gaze from his hungry one so she didn’t get distracted, she finished her monologue in a rush.
“So no on whips or, like, knives, but yes to chains or ropes or whatever. I’ve never been tied up, but I think I might like it...uh, a lot. I’d be willing to dress up as pretty much whatever you’d like, since—hello—actress here, so I’m used to changing characters. There are probably a ton of other things we could do—or not do, depending on what we’re into—but these were just off the top of my head.”
Wrapping his fingers around her upper arms, he lifted her to her feet.
“Um, it’s your turn now to say what kind of sexy fun times you’d like to try,” was all she was able to get out before his mouth was on hers. He walked them toward the bed, never releasing his grip on her arms. As Topher was forced to shuffle backward, she had the random thought that it was a good thing she wasn’t wearing her feather-strewn high-heeled slippers, or she would’ve fallen right on her butt and ruined the romantic moment. “Romantic” didn’t seem like quite the right word, though. There was hunger and need and lust, and everything seemed too raw and desperate to be considered sweetly romantic.
Then she was flying through the air, and all thoughts abandoned her brain. As soon as her back made contact with the bed, Jamie was on top of her, his weight pressing her into the mattress. His teeth scraped over her bottom lip, making her arch against him.
The contact felt so good that she wound her legs around his hips, holding him close so she could grind against him. From his rumbling groan, he was enjoying the dry humping as much as she was. Her pajamas consisted of a gossamer-thin wrap over an even less-substantial gown that ended just south of V-town, so her lack of nakedness was a technicality more than anything.
