Over Exposed

by Stephanie Julian

  “Well, do you have to say everything that comes into your mind? It’s disconcerting.”

  “Not arousing?”

  She blushed again but forced herself to continue opening the cans. “What do you want me to say to that?”

  “How about the truth?”

  She shot him a quick glance. “Fine. The truth is I get hot just looking at you.” She looked up again, so wanting to stick out her tongue at him but afraid he’d think she was being childish. Or see it as an invitation to kiss her.

  Which she really wanted.

  Because the snowplows would be here tomorrow. He was scheduled to go back to Haven on Monday, which was the day after tomorrow.

  And then he was probably flying back to Hollywood.

  She’d known there was a time limit on this affair. She’d actually been counting on that to help her get through the inevitable heartbreak when he told her, “It’s been fun, kid. See you around.”

  But she hadn’t expected him to want to tease and flirt. She’d expected more typical guy behavior. She’d almost expected him not to pay her any attention now that they’d had sex.

  Which probably just showed the quality of guys she’d dated.

  And Greg was so not a typical guy.

  He stared back at her, his mouth curved in a wry smile that made her want to throw things at him. And kiss the smirk off his face.

  “Is that what you wanted to hear?”

  He shrugged, that smile widening just a little. “Truthfully, babe, I want to hear anything you have to say.”

  She stared up at him, shaking her head. “Why?”

  He continued to smile. “So what are you putting in this sauce? You are going to finish it, aren’t you? I worked up a pretty decent appetite today.”

  Her eyes widened. “Seriously? Now you just want me to cook for you? Why don’t you go ahead and make sure I’m barefoot, too.”

  His smirk turned into a full-blown grin. “See, this is why I like you. You’re not afraid to give me shit.”

  She huffed, secretly pleased that she had something that set her apart from the beautiful women who surrounded him the rest of the time. “Well, at least make yourself useful and open these cans for me.”

  They worked side by side to put dinner together. He let her tell him what to do and he did anything she asked. Almost as if they were a couple. Two normal people sharing an ordinary life.

  And she enjoyed it way too much.

  Let go, Sabrina. Live a little and enjoy.

  Oh, how she wanted to. But every time she tried, that little voice in the back of her brain continued the countdown.

  Obviously, she wasn’t one of those people who could live in the moment. She lived in this moment and the one happening two days from now when he patted her on the ass and kissed her good-bye, and the next time she saw him at the hotel, he’d nod at her as he walked by then forget her.

  She managed to keep a smile on her face all through dinner, where Greg complimented her on the sauce and told her all about the changes he’d made to the script.

  He drew her into the story, got her to tell him what she thought about the plot and the characters, and it was after eight when they finally got up from the table. When he offered to help her load the dishwasher, she didn’t bother to argue because he wouldn’t listen anyway.

  Afterward, she stood staring out the window over the sink. It had finally stopped snowing and the bright moon illuminated the winter wonderland outside. A blanket of white covered everything as far as the eye could see. Only the tree trunks were dark stains against all that white.

  “You look about a thousand miles away. You tired?” Greg stepped up next to her. “Looks beautiful, doesn’t it? You can make snow, but it never looks right. At least I don’t think it does.”

  “Not tired, not really.” She didn’t want to go to bed alone but she wasn’t going to throw herself at him and beg him to take her, either. If he wanted her, he’d say so. She knew that much about him.

  “Good. You want to watch Margo and Mason Holder’s latest film? Won’t be released until next March. I’ve got an early copy. They wanted notes so . . . ?”

  Sabrina turned to him with a smile, tossing the dishtowel onto the counter. “Seriously? I loved their first movie. I thought Inmates was brilliant.”

  Greg caught himself before he leaned down to kiss the excitement off her beautiful face.

  He’d planned on taking her straight back to his bed after dinner, but she’d gotten quieter as dinner had progressed. Something had been bothering her all day. He’d wanted to ask what was going on, but he wasn’t sure she’d tell him.

  Had she been waiting for him to do something, say something? Was she expecting him to whisk her off to bed and bang her brains out?

  That’s what he wanted. But he didn’t want her to think the only reason he wanted her was because she was convenient.

  Sure, he wanted to sink inside that gorgeous body and lose himself. He still planned to later. And he wanted to stay there for the rest of the night.

  But right now, he wanted to have her next to him on the couch while he watched this film. Wanted to hear what she had to say about it, wanted to discuss it with her.

  Then he’d tell her that when they returned to Philadelphia, he wanted to continue seeing her.

  Yeah, it was going to be problematic. He had to go back to L.A. for several days. And she’d just started working for Tyler. To make matters worse, it was her first real job. Which made the fact of her age smack him in the face again.

  Christ, what a fucking minefield. But he’d dealt with worse before.

  “Inmates was a great first film,” he said as they walked back to the lounge, “but I know they can do better. I’ve seen some of the dailies and they’re funny as hell. I’m hoping the rest of the film lives up to the promise.”

  As he put in the DVD, she settled onto the couch. He’d wondered if she’d take the chair. Wanted to pump his fist in the air when she didn’t. If she had, he would’ve scooped her up and settled her on the couch. Where he wanted her.

  He sat next to her but contained the urge to draw her into his side. He wanted her snuggled up against him, her head on his chest, but didn’t want to seem demanding.

  Hell, maybe he should be worried about becoming obsessed. Too possessive.

  Which had never been a problem for him before. Well, at least not the possessive part. Obsessive . . . yeah. He’d cop to that. It’s what made him good at his job.

  And if he wanted to continue this relationship beyond these few days, it was probably good to get it out in the open right away.

  So he grabbed the remote, hit the play button, and reached for her.

  Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, he pulled her against him. She slid across the leather cushion without protest or hesitation.

  Now he had her settled against him exactly how he wanted her—her side against his, her head on his shoulder and her hand on his thigh. His cock started to harden as he rested his chin on top of her head and breathed her in.

  He realized about halfway through the film that he’d have to watch it again, alone, because he’d paid more attention to Sabrina for forty-five minutes than he had to the movie.

  Every time she’d laughed, he’d felt the sensation ripple through his body. Every time she shifted, getting more comfortable against him, his muscles tensed a little tighter.

  And then, halfway in, they hit the love scene.

  Because he’d been following the film only half-assed, it was like a blow to the solar plexus when the characters started ripping off their clothes and having sex against a wall in the pouring rain.

  It was hot and raw and, by the time it was over, not more than two minutes later, he was ready to rip Sabrina’s clothes off and fuck her on the couch.

  He hadn’t been able to take h
is eyes off the scene, it’d been that well done. But as it cut away, he realized he was breathing like he’d just run a six-minute mile.

  Sabrina hadn’t been unaffected. She’d gone rigid against him. The hand she’d had on his thigh clenched until he felt each individual fingertip through the fabric of his jeans. His aching cock pounded against the zipper, demanding she put that hand to better use.

  He heard her breathing deepen. Felt her shudder when he shifted beneath her, trying to ease the pressure on his cock.

  Then he muttered, “Fuck it,” and reached for her. She was already reaching for him and let him rearrange her until she straddled his lap. Then he put his hand on her ass and pressed her down against his aching erection.

  She moaned as their mouths met and melded. This time, they didn’t ease into anything. The hunger had already infected his every cell and his body needed hers with a wildness he didn’t want to rein in.

  With one hand on her ass, he got her rocking over his cock, pressing her mound against him and rubbing then withdrawing for seconds before coming back in and winding him up more.

  She didn’t need his direction for long, taking over the rhythm as his hands moved on to other things. One sank into her hair, wrapping the long strands around one fist and tugging her head back so he could kiss her deeper. The other slid beneath her shirt and spread over her back, pressing her even closer.

  With a moan, she cupped her hands around his jaw before sliding them to his shoulders, where she kneaded him, fingers digging into the muscles. Then they slipped lower, trailing over his pecs, stopping to pinch at his nipples poking through the cotton. He groaned into her mouth as the slight pain amplified the pounding desire in his veins.

  Christ, he loved having her hands on him. Almost as much as he loved putting his hands on her.

  When she grabbed the hem of his shirt, he bent forward so she could pull it over his head. As soon as it cleared his arms, he reached for her shirt and whipped it off before he reached for her bra and added it to the pile.

  She reached for him again, hands grasping at his shoulders, but he held her away and just looked at her.

  So fucking gorgeous. And he wanted to taste every single inch of her.

  Putting one hand on her back, he urged her to arch, thrusting her breasts toward him. He bent, sucking an already pointed nipple into his mouth. He didn’t start out slow, didn’t ease into it. He pulled her in hard and deep then drew back to nip at the tip, making her writhe on his lap and moan. The sound made him want to growl.

  When he switched to the other side, he already had one hand on the button of her jeans. But he knew he couldn’t get her clothes off in this position.

  Pulling back, he lifted her, shocking a gasp out of her as he stood, setting her on her feet.

  “Strip. Everything off. Right now.”

  He didn’t temper his demanding tone and he didn’t relent when her eyes widened and her hands grabbed his forearms. He couldn’t tell whether she wanted to draw him closer or push him away but she obeyed, her hands falling to her jeans.

  Then she said, “You, too.”

  He grinned and watched her shiver as he cupped her breasts and rolled her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers.

  “Greg.”

  “Yeah, babe?”

  He bent before she could answer, licking at her nipples and making her moan. Her hands sank into his hair, holding him to her. He obliged, mainly because he couldn’t get enough of her. Rubbing his cheeks against her breasts, he felt her quiver as his stubble abraded her skin.

  “God, I love that.” Her voice had a husky quality that made his balls tighten and his cock spill a drop of moisture. He needed to watch that or he’d be coming in his jeans.

  Pulling away, he crossed his arms over his chest. “Take yours off then you can strip me.”

  She gave him the look, the one that meant “you’re pushing it.” And he was. But not only did he think that look was fucking adorable, he loved that she wasn’t completely cowed by him. Another woman might’ve reached for him right away, ready to do whatever he wanted. Give him whatever he wanted.

  Sabrina was going to give him what he wanted but she was going to make damn sure he knew he had to deserve it.

  Smiling at her, he dug the condom out of his pocket and tossed it on the couch cushion, watching her return his smile.

  Keeping her gaze on his, she opened the button on her jeans then unzipped them and pushed them down. Since he didn’t want to miss the show, he let his gaze drop, saw her shove her pants to her thighs, taking her underwear with them. Bending at the waist, she got them to her ankles then stepped out.

  Goddamn, she made him so fucking hot. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted another woman as much as he wanted Sabrina.

  This girl had curves that made him want to put his hands everywhere at once. And this woman was his, said the primal heart of him. She looked at him like Kate looked at Tyler, and he realized only Daisy had ever done that before.

  Yeah, and look how that turned out.

  Shutting down that train of thought before it poisoned the moment, he watched Sabrina straighten and take another step toward him. Then she stopped, leaving only centimeters separating them. If she took a deep breath, her breasts would brush against his chest.

  His fingers itched to reach for her hair but he waited, watching as she slowly reached out and let her fingertips brush the hair on his chest then follow the line over his stomach and down to his waistband.

  His abs clenched but he held himself in place, keeping a rigid leash on his instinct to pounce. But if Sabrina didn’t get rid of his pants right fucking now, he was going to show her why people usually jumped to do exactly what he wanted.

  Then again, maybe patience really was a virtue, he thought as she brushed her fingers along the bare skin above his waistband. Flashes of lightning coursed through him, making him shiver.

  His head dropped forward and he pressed a kiss to her forehead as she slowly worked her way to the button. He bit back a command for her to rip it open then groaned when she did. She didn’t take her time now, almost as if she couldn’t wait to strip him. She had his jeans around his thighs in no time and bent even farther to get them to his ankles.

  “Fuck.”

  Her lips brushed against the head of his cock for a brief second as she straightened, but it was enough contact to make him shudder and want to force her to take him in her mouth.

  He stopped before he did but couldn’t stop himself from threading his fingers through her hair. He needed that semblance of control.

  “Now what, Greg? Tell me what you want.”

  Her breath brushed his chest, lighting sparks low in his gut.

  “I want your mouth on my cock, sweetheart. I want you to suck me but I don’t want you to get me off. I want to come inside you. But only after I return the favor and lick you until you come on my tongue.”

  She shivered, goose bumps covering her skin, and looked up at him with eyes hazy with desire.

  “I think that’ll be okay.”

  Laughing because he couldn’t help himself, he kissed the burgeoning smile off her lips then drew her back to the couch.

  He was just about to push her onto it so he could kneel between her legs and suck her off when she put her hand on his chest and gave him a shove.

  He went because, well, why the hell wouldn’t he? But he didn’t want her kneeling on the floor. Reaching for her hips, he pulled her forward until her knees hit the cushion next to him and she took the hint.

  Sliding onto the couch, she leaned forward to meld their lips together, her hands cupping his jaw, caressing, stroking. Her kiss made him steam, made him grab for her nape to hold her to him, even though he knew she wasn’t going anywhere.

  Except down.

  When she wrapped one hand around his cock, he groaned int
o her mouth and couldn’t help but tug on her hair to tilt her head back just a tiny bit more. She allowed it for a second, her hand steady on his shaft, but then she moved her lips to his jaw and twisted her hand.

  Fuck yes.

  His head fell back as fire spread every place her mouth pressed a kiss. She moved from his neck to his chest, where she stopped to lick at his nipples, while the hand on his cock began a slow but steady pump that made it thicken and throb.

  If he let himself go, she could bring him off just like this, with her teeth sinking onto his nipple and her hair falling over her shoulders to brush against his stomach.

  He wondered if she’d let him take photos of them like this one day. Just the thought made him grit his teeth with pleasure.

  “Christ, Bree.”

  He felt her mouth curve in a grin. “Everything okay?”

  “You know it is. Don’t stop.”

  “I don’t plan to.”

  After a slightly harder nip, she continued kissing her way down his body. Nothing about her seemed practiced but every movement was arousing. So fucking hot.

  His body alternated between being on edge and melting into the sofa. Her hand on his cock made him want to pump into her hand, but her lips on his skin turned his bones to jelly. Clenching his fingers in her hair, he rubbed it against his stomach, making sure not to yank or take her off course.

  Because he felt her breath on his cock. His own breath stuttered in his chest and he closed his eyes, waiting.

  He shuddered as every muscle in his body slammed to attention as her lips closed around the head. He had to make a conscious effort to control his hips because all his body wanted was to thrust up to fuck her mouth. To sink his cock deep in her warmth and let her suck him dry.

  As if she’d read his mind or, more likely, his body, she took him deeper. Her lips slid down his shaft, her tongue flat against the side of his cock. As she did, one hand slid down to cup his balls and the other curled around his waist. Then she sucked.