All The Pretty Lights (The "A" List #1) (12 page)

Colt’s speaking in circles, not making any sense. He has
no
idea what he’s talking about. He didn’t do anything “shitty.”
I
was the one who crashed into him at the airport. His
ex
was the one who sent us a batch of barbed blooms. He didn’t do any of those things. He’s blaming himself for things that weren’t his fault.

The alcohol racing through my veins is giving me a sense of fearlessness, a bold confidence. “Did we come here to talk?”

His eye twinkles. “No.”

I didn’t think so.

“What
did
we come here to do?” My voice drawls.

I know what
I
want to do. I have a damn good idea what
he
wants to do. What I
don’t
know, is why we’re
not
doing it right now.

“You’re an impatient little thing now, aren’t you?” He plays with me. “Let me
show
you what we came here to do.”

Sucking in as much air as I can find, I brace myself, pinned between Colt’s hard body before me and the pulsating, thudding glass at my backside. A whirl of sensations begin to stir deep, mixing themselves violently, ready to combust into something.

My ears are ringing, my skin heightened, as if feeling everything and nothing at the same time. His lips. I feel his lips, I’m certain of it. The familiar movements of his that make my body react so easily, take hold of my mouth, drawing all of my desires from every hidden little part of me.

I feel his hand snake into my hair, tugging at the carefully placed pins that hold it tight until it’s spilled lose around us, wild and untamed. My body is on fire, releasing heat from every pore, from every finger, from every inch of my wanton flesh.

Colt feels so comfortable, so familiar to me, yet his touch is still capable of offering surprises. I’m intoxicated… not only by vodka, but by the scent of his cologne, the warmth of his breath, the way he holds me closer than I thought possible.

The rush of adrenaline that’s been steadily driving me drops me to my knees without warning, guides my hands as they quickly undo and part the fabric of his pants to reveal the thick flesh of his that’s been poking my leg these last few minutes.

I take hold of it, not at all gently, and wrap my burning lips around the crest. A loud hiss is slowly released from his lips, bolstering my desire to see how else I can make him react to me.

The familiar vibrations felt earlier through the glass can now be felt through my knees, pulsating up through the floor. I match the rhythm, taking him into my mouth at the painstakingly slow measure of time kept by the song playing for the crowd below.

His thighs tense beneath my hands, his body silently begging for more. I don’t give it to him, not yet anyway. Languidly, my tongue caresses the underside of the massive shaft being preyed upon by my mouth. His need is building, I can feel it. I can sense it. Deep breathing above me signals that he’s struggling to contain the control he’s clinging to. It’s only a short matter of time before that control is lost and his body relents, submitting to me.

Falling forward, he braces himself on the wall of windows just as a sweet drop of his essence falls to my tongue.

“No more,” he huskily whispers, scooping me up and bringing me to my feet.

His eyes are intense, like an animal set on its prey, ready to claim and devour it. I gulp knowing that I’m the cause of the urgency taking over him. I wanted this, brought him to this point, and it is now the time to relent to it.

My dress is pushed up past my hips, his fingers scratching against the bare flesh of my thighs. His movements are feral, primal in their need. The fragile cotton panties that serve as my only undergarment are ripped from my body, with the tearing sound igniting a flame of raw desire between us.

His strength is used to lift me, blindly balancing me to accept the hardened manhood that is more than eager to fill my weeping body.

The cold glass behind me braces me as his thrusts push me, inching me further and further up the cool wall.

I remember the mirrored glass above us as we enjoyed our drinks downstairs and know that all that can be seen of what we’re doing right now, from below, is a mirrored reflection of those who look.

The security of knowing our lustful moment is private fights against the danger of the thrill from knowing that all that separates us from a thirty-foot drop to the dance floor is the inch or so of safety glass that Colt uses as a barrier to help move me, gliding against the smooth surface as we thrust together.

Latching onto his body, I kiss whatever I can find. His lips, his neck, his ear, before I release my mouth to let out the wild call my own body demands. I quake around him, but he doesn’t soften his touch as I revel in the burst of satisfaction he’s given me.

Instead, he doubles his efforts, plowing through my orgasm to find his own. When it’s found, I feel him burst inside me as we cling to each other desperately, our breaths wild.

We stay like this for a long while, holding to each other, both of us unwilling to let the other move.

“I know you won’t remember that I’m saying this tomorrow, Daph. That’s the only way I can say it right now. That’s the only way I can tell you how much I love you.”

I hear his words through the deep fog of a haze that clouds my mind. The warm dampness of a tear begins to well in my eyes as I listen to him voice what he feels for me, what I’m beginning to feel for him. He’s wrong though.

I
will
remember.

I promise myself that.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

COLT

Cape Town

“You
cannot
have a monkey.” I see the look in Albert’s eyes. I’ve seen it before, right before he bought that ridiculous mink coat he’s been wearing lately.

Thank God it’s too warm for him to wear it here, in South Africa.

He’s like a kid in a candy store, ever since he’d seen the street performer with his own small monkey perched on his shoulder, after we’d landed last night. If he’s got enough extra dough lying around to spend frivolously like this, maybe I’m paying him too much.

“Now let’s get back to something that’s actually important—like work.” I’m sarcastic for a reason.

Albert’s good at what he does, but he’s been treating this whole press tour like his own personal vacation.

He begins to pout like a spoiled child. “Fine. Buzzkill.”

I shake my head. “Where are we on the TIME COP TWO schedule?”

My assistant whips out his trusty iPad, quickly typing on the flat screen. We’ve been emailing back and forth with the studio trying to get some solid dates for when I’m supposed to start shooting. Audrey’s been pressuring the producers to move up the dates, even though initial casting isn’t even complete.

If she gets her way, and she’s trying damn hard to do it, I’ll be expected on set in Vancouver to start filming the second movie about two weeks after I return home from releasing the first movie.

She knows I’ve had my eye on a screwball comedy that’s supposed to start filming in a couple of months. She knows this will put that in jeopardy. Audrey also knows that Vancouver is about as far away from New York and Daphne that she can get me.

I’m using every contractual loophole I can find to avoid having to do this movie so soon, if at all.

“Just heard back from your agent. We might be able to push it off a few weeks, maybe a month, but that’s about it unless you pull out of production. If that’s the case, then they have the right to sue you for any lost damages for the last minute casting change as well as prevent you from filming anything or releasing anything at the same time to compete with the film.”

Catching my head in my hands, I can’t help but think how screwed I am. “Fine. They’ve got me by the balls, so as of now, unless some miracle happens, it looks like I’m going to Canada. But I want you to squeeze every last day out of this.”

Albert nods, taking note in his tablet. I’ve seen how creative Albert can be, especially when it comes to excuses. I can’t tell you how many times he’s called in to work because of a sick dog, or a bout of food poisoning. I know enough about him to know that he’s never had a dog, and is overly careful about anything he eats. I’m somewhat curious to see what he’ll come up with for me to buy me the time I need before beginning the project.

“And find something for me to do in Manhattan in the interim. A guest hosting gig, guest lecturer, some small off Broadway show, I don’t care. Just find something for me to do in the city.”

I’m throwing things left and right at Albert, but he’s taking it all in. “Got it, Colt. Anything else?”

“Hawaii. What’s new with the arrangements?” I’m thankful to talk about something,
anything
other than work right now.

“I found an estate. Secluded, ocean views, beach access. Just give me the okay and I’ll book it.” He’s got the information I’ve been asking him to gather.

“And the dates?” I’m eager to see if he’s been able to accomplish the biggest task I’d given him.

Albert looks proud. “Arranged it all. Daphne’s mom’s really nice. They’ll fly in the night before the premiere. They’re excited, too. As far as Daphne will know, they won’t be able to reschedule their vacation to see her, and they’ll surprise her at the premiere.”

I watch him carefully. “And you’ll be able to keep this under wraps?”

Albert rolls his eyes. “I can keep a secret, Colt.”

I nearly spit out the water I’m drinking. “No, you can’t!”

“What can’t Albert do?” Daphne strolls into the room. “Let me guess. He told you about the monkey?”

“
He
is not getting a monkey, and
you
are not helping him do it.” I cover my tracks. At least Albert’s ridiculous monkey idea is handy for something, if nothing other than a cover story.

She laughs while tying back her hair. “Sorry, Albert. You’re on your own for this one.” She turns to me. “You’re ready for the shoot?”

I’m fully dressed in the outfit that Daphne put together for me. My hair’s freshly cut and through all my protests, Tracy was able to catch me long enough to throw some bronzer on me.

I get that it’s summer here and I may look a bit pale, but damn, I’m no chick. I’m not wearing that crap on my skin on a regular basis, so she better not be getting any ideas.

“Good.” She takes stock to make sure I haven’t forgotten any of the details. She’s a perfectionist and had spent nearly an hour putting together what I’d be wearing for this shoot on the balcony of the hotel for one of the local magazines. “You sure you don’t need me to stay, to be there in case of any last minute wardrobe changes?”

Regardless of how our relationship is evolving, Daphne isn’t neglecting the main reason she thinks she’s here. As my personal stylist, she’s on top of it. In
every
way possible.

“Go! You need a day off. You deserve it.” I practically have to push the girl out the door so she’s not late.

She’d been slowly getting to know Shauna and Tracy throughout all of the tour stops, but the last one, in Shanghai, they’ve really started to hit it off. I’d made sure to talk to the two women, and I’m confident they know not to reveal anything they might know about how Daphne was tricked into coming on tour with us.

While I’m busy with the interview up here, Daphne and the girls will be living it up down in the hotel spa getting pampered.

Tracy suggested it, and Daph had originally turned her down, but after I’d found out, I’d given her little choice. She’s been running nonstop since New York and I know this can all be exciting, but I’ve done it enough times to know that she’s going to hit a wall soon unless she takes some time to relax. I can’t have that happen. I need her to be on her game, both for the styling and also for me.

“Don’t you worry about it, girl.” Albert reassures her. “I’ll make sure to hold down the fort. You go get your massage on. Get a pedicure, too, girlfriend. You’re wearing open toe shoes in this gorgeous African weather. Can’t have gnarly looking toes now, can we?”

Her mouth drops open in shock and she looks down at her feet, wriggling her toes in the flip-flops she’s wearing. Albert laughs at her response. She discovers what I already know, that her toes are perfect.

She reaches for the nearest throw pillow on the sofa and throws it playfully at Albert. “Jerk.”

I wink at my girl as she tosses her hand behind her, waving as she leaves.

Once the door is safely closed behind her, I admonish Albert. “Was that really necessary?”

He holds up his hands in defeat. “I get it- you love her toes, you love everything about her. Frankly, it’s a little nauseating to watch--”

“Pretty damn sure I pay you enough to put up with being nauseated.” I point out the obvious.

Wiggling his fingers against each other, he makes an offer. “You know what might help me play nice with Miss Twinkle Toes?”

A wait for it.

“A monkey.”

~*~

DAPHNE

“That was amazing!”

My body feels like Jell-O, with every single muscle having been thoroughly massaged and rubbed into submission by the very strong hands of my capable Swedish masseuse, Sven.

“I know, right?” Tracy appears to be enjoying herself just as much as I am, with some type of green mask painted on her face. We’ve been rotating through the spa stations, each enjoying body treatments and pampering.

Shauna’s next to go into the massage room to enjoy Sven’s talents. I can’t help but notice that as they stand next to each other, they seem to be the male and female versions of Nordic Gods.

“They would make
beautiful
babies.” Tracy also seems to notice the perfect physical specimens walking away from us. “
You’re
gonna get laid tonight.
She’s
probably going to get laid tonight,” she sighs, “I need to find a guy.”

Frustrated, Tracy stalks off in her terrycloth spa robe to the first available nail station, talking to herself. I can’t understand every single word that’s mumbling from her lips, but I’m able to make out enough to figure out that Tracy hasn’t gotten any action in a while, and is not at all happy about the situation.

“Miss Baker?”

I turn to the young woman holding a clipboard. “Yes?”

“Your seaweed wrap will begin soon. Would you like to sit in the sauna to open your pores beforehand?” She suggests.

“Well, if I
have
to,” I joke. Who
wouldn’t
want to relax in a peaceful sauna?

~*~

I must have sweated every single toxin in my body out by now, and lost a few pounds along the way.

The willowy steam rises and swirls within the wooden room. I sit alone, alone with my thoughts, alone with my daydreams, all of which somehow include Colton Webb.

How is it that in the past three and a half weeks I’ve gone from rolling my eyes at the half-naked pictures of him in the glossy pages of a magazine to sleeping in his arms at night?

How does something like that even
happen?

What’s even more astonishing to me is how have I come to feel the way I do for him? I haven’t been able to tell him, to reveal my hidden feelings. How ridiculous would it sound if I were to confess that I’m falling for him, only to have him behave the way I imagine he will? He’s been in this business a long time. I’m sure he’s had more than a handful of these types of dalliances before. How could he not? Close quarters, spending all your time around the same people every day, sharing the excitement and the thrill of all the traveling and the fancy events.

It’s no wonder why actors and actresses hook up so often, and even more so why those relationships don’t last.

I wipe the fresh sweat from my brow.

From what I know about Colt and Audrey’s relationship, they had met and started dating on the set of their first film together. I haven’t had the courage to ask him or the desire to hear the answer, so I don’t know the specifics of it, but it falls in line with my theory. Intense situations lead to infatuation.

Is that what this is between Colt and I?

Of course I want it to be more, but is it even a possibility? He’ll be off to his next movie soon enough, spending nearly every waking moment around his co-stars. The heroine of his next film just so happens to be Audrey herself.

My stomach turns, just thinking about it.

I could tell from the one scene from TIME COP TWO that Colt and I had rehearsed a while back, that there would be plenty of action in the movie, and not the gun toting, villainy kind.

TIME COP has three serious, faint inducing love scenes in it. I know them by heart, since I always make sure that I’ve got an excuse ready to leave my seat during the premieres before having to watch them again. I can only imagine TIME COP TWO will have many more than that.

I remember the way Colt looked into my eyes when he said his lines. I remember the feel of his touch on my cheek. Audrey will see those eyes, feel that touch while they bring their characters to life.

Colt says he’s over her, I can even sense a trace of bitterness in his words whenever he mentions her, but isn’t it true that there’s a thin line between love and hate?

I’ve been preparing myself, knowing that the end is coming. The press tour has just a few more stops, ending in Hawaii in about two weeks. After that we’ll have to go our separate ways. I’ll be off to NY, back to reality, searching for my next design job.

Colt will be in some remote movie location with his gorgeous ex-girlfriend, who just so happens to want him back in the worst way, sharing love scenes. How could they
not
get back together?

The whole world wants to see it happen wants their golden couple back together, right?

Colt and I have a fun thing going here, no matter how I may feel deep down. Even if we try to keep it going after our lives return to normal, I know it won’t last. It’s only a matter of time before we realize that we come from two different worlds.

I’m preparing myself for it, but I won’t let myself be hurt. Not by him, not by anyone. Once the tour is complete, I’ll end things. This will have been my life’s one great adventure, the thing I’ll always look back upon and smile.

That’s how I want to remember it, not with anger and sorrow because it’s the way things were before they went bad between us.

Thank God Colt’s changed his mind about bringing my parents out for the last stop on the tour. Let them have their anniversary trip to themselves, and let me have the last few days alone with Colt. He may not know that it’s the end for us, but we don’t need an audience when it happens.