Star (Beautiful Book 5)

by Lilliana Anderson

  “How do you think I feel? I’m giving you the green light. Just slide your fingers to the left. I promise it’ll be smooth and wet.”

  “Oh, I remember. I remember too well.”

  “Then what are you waiting for?”

  His fingers tuck under the elastic and he runs his fingertips feather light along my outer lips. I’m throbbing in anticipation, whimpering, then he clamps his mouth on mine as he withdraws his touch, hand spearing into my hair as he assaults my mouth with passionate aggression. “Not yet,” he murmurs once he’s turned me into a puddle of whimpering need.

  “When?” I can’t believe I’m here practically begging Jonathan Masters to fuck me. “Are you worried about hurting the baby? Because you can’t—”

  “It’s not the baby.” He steps back and runs his hand through his hair. “I just want this to be more than fucking in my kitchen, and more than a moment where we get carried away and lose ourselves in each other. I want it to be right. I want it to be deliberate. I don’t want it to be a matter of you giving in to me because I’ve been chasing you so hard.”

  I place my hand on the side of his face. “I’m not giving in, Jonathan. I’m choosing to give myself to you.”

  He drops his forehead against mine. “And now I have you, I want to show you I intend to keep you. Be patient, please. I’m barely holding on as it is, because you’re so…” He blows out his breath. “You’re so fucking hot, Red. But I need you to trust that I have a plan here. Can you do that?”

  Biting my lip, I nod. The swell of my body wants nothing but to merge with his, but if patience is what he needs from me it’s what I’ll give him. He’s been more than patient with me while I work my shit out. It’s the least I can do. “I’ll stop throwing myself at you.”

  He grips my hip and pulls me against him. “God, Red, don’t do that. I love it when you throw yourself at me. And I love getting you off. But when I need to pull back, let me.”

  I slide my arms around his neck. It seems like a strange thing for a man with a raging hard on to want, but I understand that he’s trying to make our coming together special for us both. “I can do that,” I whisper, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips.

  “Thank you. Now, please let me feed you and our growing family member.”

  I grin. “I can do that too.”

  “What’ll it be?”

  “The muffin and some tea.”

  “Done. Take a seat and I’ll bring it over to you.”

  Giving him a cheeky curtsy, I move to the dining table and pick up a script that’s lying next to the newspaper. There’s a handwritten page of notes clipped to it.

  “Oh, your friend Joel was here before. I think he brought you these script notes and the sticky beak newspaper.”

  “The script notes are from my brother, Jayden.” Jonathan sets a steaming mug of tea in front of me, taking a sip of the one he holds for himself. “But, I saw the paper while I was out. When the press turn on you, they turn.”

  I thank him for the drink and cup my hands around its warmth. “I would have hoped the article I wrote would have helped public perception of you.”

  He places a warmed muffin on a plate in front of me too. “I never cared what the public thought, only how you saw me.” He takes a seat across from me and smiles. I get all warm and gooey inside. I didn’t think it was possible, but I like him more now.

  “Joel seemed nice,” I say to try to stop myself from blushing so hard. “He told me you’re a good guy. He obviously cares a lot about you.”

  “We’ve known each other since high school. He’s more like a brother than a mate.”

  “Of which you have two?”

  “Brothers? Yes. You’ll meet them all soon. People say they’re clones of me, but I don’t see it.”

  I laugh. “I’ve seen photos. You’re all identical.”

  He shrugs then gestures to the script. “Maybe they can stand in for me then.”

  “When do you have to give an answer about these projects on offer?”

  “Well, I only have two offers at the moment.”

  My mouth falls open. “Two? Oh no. Has your career been affected that much already?” There has been media talk of certain offers being taken off the table, but I never imagined it was this bad.

  “We’re in the times of MeToo. There’s no place for indiscretion—well, public indiscretion—anymore.”

  “But you didn’t do anything wrong to Marnie. You had an agreement, and she corroborated it.”

  He tears a piece off his muffin. “It doesn’t matter what news is true these days. It only matters who reports the news first. They happily ruin people to do it. Look around at all the celebrities getting canned for stuff they did a decade ago. It’s the world we live in. But I’m OK with it. I have a great life. And I’m about to have a family of my own. What’s a movie?”

  “It’s everything you’ve worked for. You’ve won awards, Jonathan. You’re good—no, you’re amazing. And I don’t think you should throw it all away. Which one of these do you like best? This baby isn’t due for months, and production could be well and truly over by the end of the pregnancy.”

  “You wouldn’t be able to fly in the third trimester.”

  “I can’t?”

  He laughs. “No, you can’t.”

  “OK. So we have the baby over there. No big deal, right?”

  He opens his mouth then shakes his head, smiling as he reaches across the table and takes my hand in his. “Red, stop. I’m OK. This is the consequence of the things I’ve done. Leisel’s life and career was ruined the first time the public got involved, now it’s my turn. To be honest, I still think I got off lightly.

  “Lisa made her own problems by almost killing you with that car then releasing her dad’s sex tapes. Yes, what you did was wrong, but the public turned on her for being vindictive. If she’d reacted the way Marnie did, she’d be the one with the big career. It sucks, and I feel for her because her life fell apart, but I’ve worked in the media for long enough to know the outcome of a story. She acted crazy, so they treated her crazy.”

  He presses his lips together and fingers the side of his mug. “I still feel responsible.”

  “You aren’t responsible for anyone’s action except your own, and you’ve owned those. You’ve grown as a man—a man I’m head over heels in love with—and I don’t think you should roll over and take this. You love your job, right?” He nods. “Then tell me which script you prefer. I’m not dropping this, so you might as well talk to me about it.”

  He sits back with a sigh. “One is a romantic comedy where a dog decides his owner needs a mate.”

  “And shenanigans ensue.”

  He grins. “Yes. It sounds corny, but it’s got big name backing and the script is quite funny. And the other is a thriller about an Instagram star who’s being stalked by a serial killer, but you don’t know if the guy she’s dating is the bad guy or if it’s her college professor.”

  “What? Whoa. Do that one.”

  He picks up the script and leafs through it before handing it to me. “It’s completely off brand for me. It could flop and then my acting career really will be a joke.”

  “I can’t believe that. I mean, look at Keanu Reeves. The guy plays an action hero like it’s nobody’s business, but give him any other genre and he’s stiff as a board. Doesn’t stop him branching out though.”

  “I don’t want to be working long hours while you’re pregnant in a foreign country.”

  I pick at my muffin and shrug. “Then I’ll stay here and you can go do the movie. We can FaceTime.”

  “No fucking way. I’m not spending six months away from you.”

  “Then you take me with you and I make a nuisance of myself around the set.”

  “Do you realise how boring a movie set can be?”

  “Nothing is boring while you’re around. We can make it fun and I’ll interview your costars and sell the whole thing to my boss as an in-depth piece on the psychology behind t
he movie-making process. I want to go.” I lift my eyebrows and pop a piece of muffin in my mouth. “You’re doing this movie.”

  “How about you read it and then nag me about it?”

  “You did not just call me a nag,” I tease.

  He chuckles. “If the shoe fits.”

  I poke my tongue out as I pick up the script and flip over the first page. “Fine, I’ll read it. But this conversation isn’t over.” Munching on my breakfast, I lose myself in a tale of intrigue and suspense.

  Twenty-Six

  Jonathan

  After spending the day talking about scripts and arguing over the direction of my career, I’m driving Sandra back to her place. I don’t want to, but she has work tomorrow and needs her laptop and clothes and a bunch of other things that aren’t at my place for her. I want to remedy that situation as soon as possible, make space for her in my home, or better yet, find a home we both love, something with a big backyard so our kid can play in the grass and dig in the dirt.

  I’m moving too fast.

  I know I am, but I can’t seem to stop myself. I want her in every moment.

  “My mum keeps trying to call me,” Sandra says, looking at her phone and tapping out a message.

  “Is everything OK?”

  “I think so. She probably saw the paper and is desperate to know what’s going on between us.” She tugs her hair behind her ear and smiles. She’s wearing my t-shirt and a pair of my track pants. My clothing is about ten times too big for her, but I love seeing her in my things. It reminds me of the first day we spent together when she was wearing Douche Bailey’s things and I felt that first spark of jealousy. I didn’t realise it then, but I’d already claimed her as mine. And if she was going to wear any man’s clothes, they needed to be mine.

  “She doesn’t know about the baby?”

  “No. You’re the only person I told.”

  I reach across the centre console and take her hand, holding it against my thigh as we drive. “How do you think she’ll react?”

  “Oh, she’ll be ecstatic. Dad, on the other hand… he’s a little protective. But once he sees how we are together, he’ll be OK.”

  “Will I have to have the intentions talk with him?”

  She laughs. “Probably. He’ll definitely want to know what your intentions are.”

  Lifting her hand, I press my lips to her knuckles. “I intend to keep you and never let you go.”

  “Swoon.” She grins as she rests her head against the back of the seat and angles her body towards me. I’m still wrapping my head around the fact that there’s a baby growing inside her. I’m always so careful with protection, but I can’t remember using any that night. I remember wanting to be as close to her as possible. I remember feeling this need to feed on her like she was my last meal, but I can’t remember ever pausing and considering consequences.

  Perhaps this was meant to be?

  Sandra’s phone beeps and she lifts it before letting out a chuckle. “Why are you in the papers again?” she reads out. “Just as I thought.”

  I smile in response, releasing an amused burst of air from my nose. “How are you going to respond to this one?”

  “I’m telling her I’ll talk to her about it later.”

  “Does it still bother you?”

  “My mum’s questioning my every move? Yeah. But I’m the only child, so it’s understandable.”

  I laugh again. “I’m one of four and my mother still questions my every move. But I meant the paparazzi.”

  “Oh. No. It’s nothing like it was in the beginning, so I’m getting used to it.”

  “Good. Because that’s something we’ll be dealing with for a while.”

  “Wait.” She pulls her hand from mine. “Four? I thought you only had two brothers?”

  “Oh, I do. But we count Joel because Mum and Dad took him in when he was seventeen.”

  “What happened?”

  “Just some shit with his family. He doesn’t like talking about it.”

  “Oh, I’m sad for him. He seemed nice.”

  “He’s a good bloke. He’s been my best friend since we were fourteen. Now he’s my lawyer and my trainer.”

  “Wow. Does he travel with you too?”

  “Nah. He’s got his own life here. But when I’m home, we all hang out a lot. Me and the boys.”

  “You and the boys. What do the other boys do?”

  “Jayden drifts. He gets a kick out of impersonating me to get girls. I swear most of the women I’ve reportedly slept with actually slept with him.”

  She laughs. “Why didn’t you get me to put that in your article?”

  “And ruin his fun?” I shrug. “My biggest issue with Jayden is that he’s aimless. But he really enjoys summarising scripts for me. I think he’s interested in acting to be honest.”

  “What about your other brother?”

  “Cooper? He helps Dad out with his tree lopping business and does custom paint jobs on cars and bikes. He’s pretty good.”

  “What does your mum do?”

  “She’s a domestic goddess.” I flash her a grin and she’s smiling.

  “I like that. My mum has always been a stay at home wife and mother too. Dad always said keeping house is a full-time job.”

  “What does your dad do?”

  “He’s an engineer. Started in the army then moved on to working in the construction industry when his time was up. He’s also a volunteer firefighter because that man is never busy enough.”

  “I look forward to meeting him.”

  “Oh, I’m sure you’ll meet him very soon. My dad isn’t one to stay in the shadows whenever a man comes sniffing around his only daughter.”

  “I’m sniffing am I?”

  She grins. “That’s what he calls it.”

  “What do you call it?”

  She takes a deep breath then sighs. “I don’t know what to call us, Jonathan.”

  I take her hand again and give it a squeeze. “Together. I think what we are is together.”

  “I like that. Together.”

  Twenty-Seven

  Sandra

  “I don’t think I’ve ever properly thanked you for fixing my front window for me,” I say as we open my front door, hand in hand.

  “You don’t have to. It was my pleasure.” He releases my hand as I step through, staying on his side of the threshold.

  “You’re not coming in?”

  He gives me a grin that tightens my insides. “I don’t think I should. You need your rest.”

  I tug on his arm. “Oh, come on, Jonathan. You can’t drive all this way then go straight back home. At least come in for a drink or to use the bathroom. Be human.” His shoulders loosen as he relents and steps through.

  “Fine. I’ll use your bathroom.”

  “And stay for dinner.”

  He laughs through his nose and presses a quick kiss to my lips. “And stay for dinner.”

  “Yes.” I fist pump the air as I close the door and lean against it, biting at my lip as I watch his jean-clad arse walk across the room. My god that man is sexy. And he’s all mine.

  “This feels crazy,” I whisper to myself, placing my hand on my face and taking a deep breath before I’m startled by a knock on my door. I open it to find my mother on the other side.

  “Whose car is that out there?” she asks immediately, carrying some grocery bags to my kitchen as she looks around the house. “Is one of them with you?”

  “Yes. And we’re not at the point where meeting parents is top of the to-do list,” I whisper, eyes darting to the hall where the bathroom is.

  “Well, I won’t be long. I just saw a few things on special at the supermarket and picked them up for you.” She places her hand around her mouth then stage whispers. “I didn’t think to get you condoms. Do you have enough or does your guy bring his own?”

  “Stop. You have to leave,” I say with a laugh, pushing her towards the door.

  “Just tell me who it is. The chef or t
he movie star?”

  “It’s not the chef,” I tell her, watching her eyes light up then focus on something past my shoulder.

  “Jonathan Masters,” she exclaims, slipping my grip as she moves over to a very surprised looking Jonathan. Bet he wasn’t expecting this when he came out of the bathroom. “Well, as I live and breathe. You know, I have seen every one of your films. You’re quite the heartthrob aren’t you?”

  “Uh, hi… Mrs Haegan?” he starts as he clears his throat, his eyes darting to me. I mouth, ‘I’m sorry,’ before moving to stand beside him to make the formal introductions.

  “Jonathan, this is my mother, Madeline Haegan. Mum, Jonathan Masters. She was just leaving though.”

  “No, I wasn’t. I have time for a cuppa to chat with your new beau.”

  “Oh god, mum, don’t call him that.”

  Jonathan chuckles. “I’m your beau,” he says, giving me a wink.

  I place my hand over my face and laugh as she slips her arm through his and guides him towards my dining room table, chattering about utter nonsense. Jonathan meets my eyes, looking lost. I simply smile and shrug. There’s not much you can do when my mother sets her mind on something.

  Moving into the kitchen, I switch on my coffee machine as Mum and Jonathan take a seat at the table. “I can’t tell you how lovely it is to meet you in person,” she chatters while I busy myself with drinks. “I keep seeing you and my daughter together in the tabloids, and all the ladies at the day club keep asking me what’s going on. I keep saying, ‘Nothing. They’re just friends. My daughter is dating Brad the chef.’ What happened to Brad the chef, Sandra? You don’t tell me anything anymore.”

  “Mother,” I say in warning. “Don’t be so rude.” I place mugs in front of her and Jonathan before grabbing a water for myself.

  “I hear they barely got past first base,” Jonathan says, egging her on with a cheeky glint in his eye.

  “And you’re no better,” I say, nudging him as I take a seat beside him.

  Mum’s eyes get bigger. “You don’t say,” she gasps. “I thought there was more to it than that. Second base at least.”