Limelight and Longing (Movie Star Romance Book 1)

by Jay Shaw

  “Jacob?” Jenna crossed her arms over her breasts. The chill air rose goosebumps over her skin now that she wasn’t lost in the heat of the moment and Jacob’s touch. “We can go if you’d…I thought since…”

  She gestured to the blanket and the stars overhead, the complete lack of cars in the carpark or out on the road. Her willingness to go with whatever he wanted eased the sudden attack of stage fright which turned him gun shy, and he smiled wide and bashful.

  “No sense leaving when we’re both comfortable here, right?”

  “Right.” She was helpless not to grin back as she cupped a palm to stubbled cheek and stroked her thumb over his cheekbone. “Now, where were we?”

  “Right…about…” Jacob’s eyes darkened, focused intently on the back of his hand where it grazed up Jenna’s belly and cupped one breast, thumb mimicking her own slow caress. “…Here.”

  He grinned when she murmured her agreement, eyes fluttering closed at the feel of his hands on her, lifting feminine flesh to spill into his palms; luscious and sensitive and full. Jacob ducked in to suckle and hummed against the hard nipple brushing his tongue; felt Jenna grind closer as she clung to him.

  “Oh, Jacob.”

  He shifted them, held her close as he rolled her beneath him, laid her head on the cushion and settled his hips between her spread thighs. The cool of the truck bed seeped through blanket and denim, but it was a discomfort easily ignored when Jenna was in his arms. He supported his weight on one arm while he stretched the other to reach into the lockbox.

  “What are you doing?”

  He grunted, lost his balance but held a box of condoms aloft in triumph. “I hoped you’d be as horny as me.”

  He felt heat suffuse his cheeks and hoped the shadows hid his blush from her as she laughed, free and happy. “There’s something to be said for forethought. Now come here.”

  Her nimble fingers slid the buttons of her fly open, then shoved panties and jeans down slim thighs as he worked free of his own; boots and socks holding him up for a frustrating second.

  Then he was back, cock sheathed and bobbing in its eagerness, and the warmth of her luring him in. Helpless to resist, he thrust deep. Her tender flesh surrounded him, parted in welcome only to enfold him, keep him within her; offered resistance when he retreated.

  “Jenna, oh God, Jenna.” His hips rutted, ragged, his hunger for her surpassing his ability to make it last. He felt her thighs squeeze his flanks. In excitement or command or both he was too far gone to tell. He kissed her, a clumsy attempt. One she returned as she clung to him, her nails sharp curves of fire in the skin of his shoulders, rose to meet his every surge and retreat. Sweaty and beautiful and as desperate for the bliss their bodies promised as he was. He felt it just beyond his reach, in the echo of his name in the intimate space between breaths. And he was there, bucking deep and tight inside her. Jenna arched her body to his, her cry of surrender dragged him after her into the bright light of euphoria.

  The night air was cold on her flushed skin but Jenna didn’t care. Jacob lay sprawled over her, heavy with the weight of healthy, satiated male. She stroked her fingertips in the short hair at his nape and smiled at the sounds he made, soft exhales that puffed warm over the top swell of her breast. It was a moment to be treasured; her lover asleep and trusting in her arms.

  She felt the press of lips over her heart and looked down her nose to meet deep brown eyes, liquid and sleepy with lingering bliss.

  “Hello.” She smiled; amused as his heightened color was visible by moonlight.

  “That’s embarrassing.”

  Jacob pushed up on his hands, shifting his weight to the side.

  “Why?”

  “One might consider it rude to pass out on a lady after…”

  “After fucking her brains out?” Jenna wriggled away from the tickling fingers assaulting the nearest hip. “You make a good blanket.”

  “This coming from a certified Blanket Hog.” Jacob snorted and hooked a hand over her hip, dragging her into his side. “Speaking of blankets, I suggest we get under this one.”

  “I like your thinking.”

  She shuffled and lifted when asked as he tugged the top blanket free and flicked it to settle over them. Warmth returned to her toes and she spooned into him, her head on his shoulder as they stared up at the star-spangled ink sky.

  “Do you think there’s life out there? Maybe a galaxy where there’s a real-life Dante Jones and an Ethan Fox, saving people from interstellar smugglers and jewel thieves with rainbow hair.”

  He chuckled; a light happy sound that danced along every one of her nerve endings. “I’d like to think so. Probably not as ruggedly handsome…”

  “Of course not. That’d be impossible.”

  Jenna sensed Jacob’s thoughts drifting into quiet, much like her own were. It was warm and peaceful and safe enveloped in his arms. She knew a lot would be thrown at her in the next few days, it wouldn’t hurt to enjoy how perfect now was.

  Chapter Ten

  Light poured in through the large picture window to stab her retinas. Jenna snuggled deeper into the warm cloud of luxurious comforter for a long minute, before sighing and stretching her arms above her head.

  The vast bedroom with its crisp white, navy, and silver, décor spoke of spacious luxury, while the giant flat screen TV attested to a large disposable income. Jenna’s belly flip-flopped. In Melbourne she’d expected a certain level of extravagance in a five star hotel room, but this was Jacob’s home. The difference between it and her compact bungalow with its eclectic mix of bohemian bright and flatpack-practicality couldn’t have been more glaring.

  But none of that had mattered while they had reunion sex under the stars. She smiled to herself. The feel of Jacob’s hot hard body against her, in her, and around her, as they made lazy sleepy love here in his enormous bed, reaffirmed how right they were together.

  Alone now, she made a sheet angel across the vacant space; its surface devoid of both comforter, and any trace of lingering body heat. Jacob had been up for a while. And the faint sounds of breakfast in the making were familiar no matter which time zone you occupied.

  ♥♥♥

  Jacob zipped around the kitchen like a bumble bee trying to find his way out of a jar. Morning sunlight caught the bronze highlights in his hair and sparkled through the highball glasses he filled with lime-green liquid from a blender jug.

  “She’ll need a car.”

  Jenna boosted herself onto one of the four chrome and red leather barstools and quirked a brow in question. Jacob smiled and slid one of the glasses across the black granite countertop toward her, before swigging from his own.

  “No, no, I’ll be there, just make sure they’re ready to go. I want to get out of there-” Jacob nodded as if he didn’t realize whoever he was talking to couldn’t see him.

  “They want how many?” He reached for the frying pan and jiggled it so the streaky bacon and mushrooms tumbled onto the kitchen towel he’d placed on a plate. “How many looks can Ethan Fox have? He’s a space merc for Christ’s sake, not a lot of designer fashion stores in the Outer Rim Territories.”

  Jenna stifled a giggle and Jacob glared at her. The affect diluted by the smirk playing in the corner of his kiss-bitten lips.

  “Yeah, yeah, I know.” He glanced at his watch. “I’ve gotta go, Ingrid. I’ll see you at three, provided they’re done turning my character into a fashion icon.”

  “I can’t imagine Ethan going for that.” Jenna swigged the dregs of her juice and looked at the empty glass in surprise. “Whatever was in that was delicious, thank you.”

  “Huh?” He stared at her as if he’d forgotten she was there. “Sorry, my day’s mad. Banana, leafy greens, mango, coconut milk, pineapple, and the last of the avocado; I make one every morning I’m not on location.”

  He took her glass, rinsed it, and upended it into the top drawer of the dishwasher, then repeated the ritual with his own. “The photographer the studio’s going with
wants to quote, freshen his look.”

  Jenna nodded and forked a mushroom into her mouth. The garlic, chive, and butter combo exploded across her taste buds. “Mmm yum!”

  “Glad you approve.” He passed her two slices of fresh bread to make a sandwich.

  “A breakfast I didn’t cook will always be delicious.”

  Jacob laughed, loud and happy, and loped around the island to leave a smacking kiss on her forehead. “Fuck, I’ve missed you, you’ve no idea.”

  She leaned in, cheek pressed to his cotton-covered abs, arms squeezed tight around his middle. “Probably as much as I’ve missed you.”

  He hummed into the top of her head before he cupped her face to meet his gaze, and stared at her for the longest time. “I love you.”

  Jenna gasped and brought her own hands up to cover his, couldn’t help the shiver of pleasure inside her. He looked terrified. The handsome lines of his face pulled taut as he waited, vulnerable and wary.

  “I love you too, have done since…oh hell, since before we met in Wellington, if you want the whole embarrassing truth.”

  Her confession sounded young, and kind of creepy to admit the famous movie star she’d had a thing for was the same man who searched the world for her, courted her via text, entranced her with his voice, and seduced her with his body; even if it was the stuff of feminine fantasies. To the rest of the world, he remained a fantasy. He was an unobtainable desire from the magical kingdom of glitz and glamor called Hollywood. Yet Jacob Starr had just put himself beyond the reach of the masses by declaring that he was hers.

  Jenna stood into the small space between counter and Jacob, pushed up onto her toes and kissed him hard and needy and honest. He pulled her close in answer; crushed her breasts against his pecs, and smiled into their kiss when she moaned. How he got so lucky, he’d never know, but he wasn’t about to question it.

  He groaned as he pulled free, reluctant to part so soon after having her with him again. “I’ve got to go.”

  She released him and he felt cold where her touch cooled on the small of his back. It made him eager to step back into her embrace.

  “Ingrid’s sending a car for you. They’ll ring up when they arrive.” The little crease appeared between Jenna’s brows and Jacob went with the impulse to smooth it with the pad of his thumb, as if it was something he’d been doing for years. “She has a load of designers who want to dress you for the premiere.”

  “Oh…”

  He chuckled; pocketed his phone from the counter and scooped up his keys. “This’ll be the scene where Cinderella’s fairy godmother picks her ball gown. Don’t tell Ingrid I said that, she’ll have my balls.”

  Jenna’s scowl had him ducking for cover. “I’ve got dibs on those if you don’t mind, Mr Starr.”

  “Don’t mind at all, Miss Long, not one bit.”

  Jacob’s laughter echoed through the entrance way long after he’d closed the door behind him; leaving Jenna with a rosy glow of possessive contentment swirling low in her belly. Against all odds she’d found her prince, and he was taking her to a ball. Okay, so it wasn’t a ball as such, but she would be surrounded by Hollywood royalty all the same.

  ♥♥♥

  Jenna stepped from the elevator into the Muller Agency’s sleek modern reception area of buttermilk walls, cinnamon carpet, and towering leafy plants in bronze pots. It was an atmosphere which oozed the utmost professionalism while instilling confidence in their clients.

  “Miss Long, good morning, wonderful to meet you at last. Jacob has talked of nothing else since he returned from his impromptu trip downunder.” Jenna accepted the proffered hand, but couldn’t help feeling she was both on the back foot and underdressed in her knee-length sundress and sandals. “I’m Ingrid Muller, and now that I’ve met you I can understand Jacob’s fascination.”

  Jenna bristled at the implication she was just a passing phase, a mere dalliance of someone rich enough to have whatever he desired, whenever he desired it.

  Ingrid wore a tight white dress with black pinstripes, styled like a men’s suit jacket with oversized black buttons down the front, and four-inch white stilettos which can’t have been comfortable to wear all day. Her platinum hair, secured in a no-nonsense chignon, emphasized her round blue eyes and what seemed to be a genuine smile.

  “Pleased to meet you, Ingrid.”

  With a nod, Ingrid sashayed around the curved wall without checking to see if Jenna followed. “We have a lot to get through in order to get you ready. I assume you received the package I forwarded to your address?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  “Good, good, then we shall begin.” Ingrid flung open a set of double frosted-glass doors to reveal an enormous conference room, the table in the center capable of seating at least thirty. “Theodore, darling, Mr Starr has blessed you with an inspired canvas on which to work your magic.”

  “Ingrid, darling, you must stop t-” A tower of golden muscle in a black wifebeater and designer-ripped jeans rose from behind one of the many clothing racks, mouth agape.

  Jenna tried not to be offended by his obvious amazement. To be fair they didn’t know her.

  Theodore stepped forward, large manicured hand extended for her to shake, and Jenna had to crane her neck back to meet his gaze. He wore glasses; their thick black frames beset with diamantes, and his bald head was a maze of Maori tribal tattoos.

  “Theodore Montrose at your service.”

  Jenna shook his hand and smiled. Never had she met someone who blended clichés with such seamless skill. “Jenna Long.”

  “Now I see the introductions are made, I must organize the necessary press releases. Everyone wants to know who Jacob Starr is taking to the premiere and it is my job to see they find out. I shall leave you in Theodore’s capable hands, Miss Long.”

  Jenna turned, her words lost in the flutter of nerves in her stomach as Ingrid backed out of the room, closing the doors behind her. Theodore ducked close and Jenna flinched, only to grin at the playfulness in his expression.

  “Let’s find you a gown that’ll blow Mr Starr’s…mind.”

  Jenna laughed at his conspiratorial wink and nodded, nerves forgotten. After Melbourne, she hadn’t been sure of what to expect from her meeting with Ingrid, but she had to admit the woman knew her business.

  “We should begin with the purples.” Theodore pushed aside an overstuffed rack to reveal sequins, silks, and tulles, in every shade from the softest lilac, to rich eggplants, and sumptuous plums. “With that hair yellows, oranges, and browns won’t do at all. Come, come, don’t just stand there. We have a lot to do. Which one speaks to you, darling?”

  Theodore’s flamboyant enthusiasm was contagious, obliterating the last of Jenna’s reserve. “The dark plum?”

  “Excellent, excellent.” He unhooked a seductive sheath that shimmered in the overhead lights, and Jenna’s fingers flexed with the need to feel it flow over her skin. “But, don’t fall in love too soon, darling, we must not neglect the greens, and the reds. I can hear them screaming to bask in your beauty.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Stylists, hair designers, makeup artists, their assistants and their assistants’ assistants ebbed and flowed around Jenna as if she were a lone island in a sea of agitated efficiency, while Theodore and Ingrid surveyed their minions with mutual expressions of pride and accomplishment.

  The week since she’d arrived in Los Angeles and been reunited with Jacob, had flown by in a whirlwind of appointments, lunch and dinner dates – each accompanied by varying entourages of photographers, journalists, and fans. Jacob posed for photos and answered questions enough to keep them pacified, so when he asked they backed away and left him and Jenna to enjoy their evening together.

  But it was the quiet privacy of Jacob’s apartment Jenna treasured. They enjoyed the vibrant colors of sunset over drinks, before playing pool, or sprawling on the sofa; her head on his chest as they talked of everything and nothing, the madness of his upcoming film schedule, how
she liked spa pools but hated baths, how on his next trip to Morocco he’d buy four punched-silver lamps to hang above the kitchen island, and who was the better blues singer - Eva Symone, or Persephone Jones.

  Now here she was; Jacob’s guest bedroom taken over for the purpose of making her ready to attend her first movie premiere. She hadn’t seen him since dawn first crept over the Hollywood hills and through the open windows to shade the white comforter gold, heralding Ingrid’s arrival as she hustled Jenna away.

  She raised her arms on command as three assistants maneuvered her gown over her head without smudging makeup or touching one hair of her elaborate up-do. Her natural shyness at being half-naked in front of a room full of strangers had evaporated within the first hour, along with the illusion that beneath all their finery celebrities got to wear expensive lingerie. After her shower, wax, and mani-pedi, Jenna switched her robe for a strapless sausage skin in nude – complete with built-in panties.

  While two assistants smoothed the fitted sleeves down her arms, and another two shaped the scoop neckline around her breasts before smoothing the bodice and skirt, it all made sense. The shiny undergarment allowed the fabric to move without clinging and helped support her posture without the inconvenience of visible bra straps and pantie lines.

  Jenna felt taller and more glamorous than she’d ever felt in her favorite emerald silk. Perhaps it was the small army of experts. Or maybe it was the knowledge that Jacob Starr, Hollywood action hero superstar, would be her date. She might be living the fantasy of more than a few women around the globe, but to her he was just Jacob - lover of modern blues, chocolate pecan ice-cream, and collector of sci-fi graphic novels; hater of sand, reality TV shows, and leaver of wet towels on the bathroom floor.

  Jenna smiled to herself as she used a nearby shoulder to keep her balance and lifted first her left foot, then her right, in answer to the tap on her toes. The glittered four-inch stilettos were gold instead of red, but she was careful not to tap her heels together.