First Take (Star-Taken) (5 page)

He slid his hands beneath her to cup her shoulders
then returned his mouth to her lips while slowly withdrawing. “Put your legs around my waist.”

That sounded like an excellent idea. Except she wasn’t sure she had enough muscle strength left to keep them there. So, instead, she drew her knees upward and caught the back of each thigh with a hand.
She settled her heels at his hips. “How’s this?” she asked in a breathy voice as the position tilted her hips upward and he sank even deeper.

R
esting on his hands, one on either side of her head, he checked out her position and throbbed inside her. “Oh, that definitely works.” His gaze directed between their bodies, he retreated slightly. “Oh, yeah, that definitely works.”

Too bad there wasn’t a mirror around when she needed one. She wouldn’t mind seeing him thrust in and out of her. Her eyelids slammed shut when he did just that, fast and hard, and
she gave herself over to sensation. Who needed mirrors when she couldn’t keep her eyes open anyway?

The wet smack of flesh against flesh and heavy breathing filled the room. His breath was hot against her breast, blowing across her nipple
every two or three thrusts. Her fingers slick from a light sheen of sweat, slipped on her thighs, and she resettled her hold as he took her over and over.

And that
was exactly what he was doing, taking her. She was spread open for his pleasure, but in chasing his, he also built hers again. She hadn’t thought another orgasm possible, but her muscles clenched as it approached. His fingers dug into her shoulders as he slammed deep once more. Then his hips stilled for a beat, and she opened her eyes.

He met her gaze. “I love being buried inside your tight pussy.” He flexed hi
s hips and hit that magical spot.

Her muscles fluttered
and she gasped.

“
I wish I could stay here for days. Would you like that?” He rotated his hips and her eyes slid shut. “Look at me.”

She forced her eyelids upward
.

“
Tell me.” He rolled his hips again, and she fought to keep his gaze.

She wasn’t used to talking during sex, but then this was unlike anything she’d ever experienced. Did her earlier resolve to be bolder extend to dirty talk?
Would he stop if she didn’t respond? What was the harm if she did?

After running her tongue over her dry lips, she swallowed
the said, “I’d die of pleasure.”

His sexy half
smile appeared even as he shook his head. “That’s not what I asked for.” He withdrew and she dug her heels into his hips. With the tip stretching her opening, he stopped. “Tell me what you want.”

If she’d never thought in the terms, she’d certainly never vocalized them, but they were just words. She wouldn’t die if she said them, but she might just
die if he didn’t finish what he’d started. Staring into his eyes, she said, “I—I want your thick cock pounding my pussy until I can’t take anymore.” After sucking in a deep breath, she continued in a rush, “I want you to fuck me hard and make me scream.” Heat washed from the top of her head on a fast track to where they were joined.

He
rested his forehead on hers. “Sexy.”

Then he brushed his lips across hers, shifting one of his hands to cup her head wh
ile the other slid under her bottom to help bear some of her weight. She dropped her heels to the bed and her lower back relaxed in relief.

At a slow pace, h
e resumed his thrusts, claiming her mouth with long drugging kisses to match his rhythm. She threaded her fingers through his hair. If she didn’t know better, she’d have said, he was making love to her. But she shoved the thought away. It only led down a path to impossible fantasies that would end in disappointment. This was a birthday wish come true, nothing more.

A restless urgency grew and soon she was nipping at his bottom lip and shoving her heels into the thick quilt to get better purchase as she met
him stroke for stroke. He dug his fingers into her bottom. The tip of one of his fingers flirted with her back channel, tapped it, teased it then slipped just inside, eased by the sweat clinging to every crook and crevice of her body. She froze as shivers overtook her and built into unstoppable tremors.

Quickening his
pace, he kissed along her jaw to her ear. “That’s it. Come for me again. Squeeze the cum from my cock.”

The tremors turned to blinding waves of pleasure
, and Rachel screamed as the most intense orgasm of the day—hell, her life—claimed her. She dropped her hands to the cover and curled her fingers into the thick material until threads popped. His hips slammed into hers over and over, rocking her until she gasped for breath and tears squeezed from the corners of her closed eyelids.

He groaned in her ear. “I’m coming, babe. Milk me dry.”

She choked back a sob. That was an impossible request. Then he shoved his finger deeper in her dark channel and the fading ripples from her orgasm amplified into tidal waves, robbing her of her ability to breathe. His thick length swelled impossibly large, or maybe it was the combination of being taken in both places, either way, she lost touch with reality.

The blanket beneath her bec
ame a cloud, his weight above her a cocoon. She drifted in a hazy aftermath of bliss she didn’t think she ever wanted to return from. Fantasy had become reality and reality was now a far, far away place.

~ * ~

SIX

When the alarm clock beeped, Rachel rolled over and slapped the thing silent without opening her eyes. Then she gasped as overworked muscles protested. She froze as memories of the previous day came pouring back. Stephen Raymond had picked her up at the movies, bought her dinner, and then taken her body in numerous and oh-so-pleasurable ways she’d only ever read about.

Her breath caught.
Is he still here?

She couldn’t
feel his presence beside her. Stretching out her leg, she encountered cool sheets. He was probably long gone. If not for all the aches, she’d wonder if yesterday had been a vivid dream.

She cracked an eyelid. Dim light
leaked around the edges of the blinds and curtains. The clock read 7:01. After taking a deep breath, she twisted her head and checked out the opposite side of the bed. It was empty, though the pillow retained the indent from Stephen’s head. More proof she hadn’t imagined the whole affair. A wave of disappointment washed through her.

What did you expect, Rach?

She rose onto her elbows and swept a glance around the room. Empty. Collapsing back into the pillows, her gaze fell on the condom box atop the nightstand and a smile curved her lips. Thank goodness the things hadn’t expired. They were leftovers from her previous relationship. She and Stephen had indulged in another round without having to worry about a midnight trip to the drugstore. Beside the box rested a folded slip of paper. She rolled to her side then scooted to the edge of the bed. Sitting up, she reached for the note then flipped it open.

Rachel, sorry I had to leave before you woke.
I had to catch the red-eye to LA. Will call. - Stephen

She snorted. Yeah, right.
They’d never exchanged phone numbers, but she was comfortable with what had happened—she’d received the best birthday present ever.

Her phone rang and her heartbeat raced.

Get a grip, Rach. No way is that him. If he did actually catch the red-eye, he’d still be on the plane.

She
cleared her throat. It was too early for a client to be calling, but she still didn’t want to sound like a frog. She grabbed the receiver, hit Talk then raised the phone to her ear. “Hello?”

“Rachel, it’s Mom. Now don’t worry, but Dad’s in the hospital in Houston.”

Her stomach dropped.
Hello, reality.

Before her mind could race to the worst possibilities, her mother continued,
“He didn’t want me to call you, but the doctors said I should.” Stress strained her mother’s voice.

Pushing aside her building anxiety, Rachel inhaled a slow breath then calmly said,
“It’s okay, Mom. Of course you should have called.” Her dad might not want Rachel to worry, but like the physicians, he also knew her mother needed the support of her children. This wasn’t his first trip to the hospital. “What else did the doctors say?”

As
Rachel listened to her mother explain her dad had suffered another heart attack and how the doctors were waiting for him to stabilize before doing surgery, she formulated her plans—check for flights, e-mail clients, ensure the files she needed were on her laptop, pack, and ask her downstairs neighbor to pick up her mail.

“…because of the
risks, the doctors suggested any immediate family members who could, should pay a visit.” Her mother’s voice caught. After pausing to sniff, she continued with a watery laugh, “If nothing else, they thought it would help with the patient’s mood.”

Rachel smil
ed and forced a chuckle for her mother. Dad made a horrible patient, which was the most compelling reason to get home as soon as possible: her mom would need someone to spell her during visits. “Of course I’ll come home, Mom.”

Rachel didn’t even contemplate the worst possible risk, death, for which Mom would definitely require support from her kids. Her dad was a stubborn mule. He wouldn’t die unless he was ready. Swallowing hard, she shoved to her feet
, ignoring the twinges in her abused muscles, and faced the bed. With her free hand, she grabbed the covers and tugged them toward the pillows.

“Are you sure? Robert said he’d drive in from Dallas
tomorrow. He’s got a midnight deadline for an AP article. Can you imagine, Rach? He’s gonna be in the Times and Post.”

Wedging the phone between her shoulder and cheek,
Rachel rolled her eyes and grabbed the pillow then fluffed away the imprint from Stephen’s head. “That’s great for him.”

Rachel
was proud of her brother’s accomplishments, but her mother never congratulated her on any of her successes. Then again, millions didn’t see “Rachel Harrington” as a byline. She dumped the pillow on the bed. No, her name was embedded in software code seen only by a few eyes, though those people made millions using her programs.

Shoving aside, the petty thoughts, she said,
“And of course I’m sure, Mom. It’s been a few months since I’ve been home. I’m just sorry it took Dad being in the hospital to get me there.”

“Oh
dear, don’t worry about that. Dad and I know you kids have your own lives to live, but it’ll be nice to see you. Are you bringing Paul?”

Rachel’s stomach turned.
Even though it had happened months ago, she hadn’t told her parents about the break up. From the beginning, they hadn’t liked Paul, and she hadn’t wanted to listen to her mother’s “I told you so.” With a wrinkle of her nose, she said, “We broke up a while ago. It’ll just be me.”

“Oh good,” her mom s
aid.

Choking back laughter, Rachel
shook her head. “I’ll call you back when I’ve got firm flight times.” Her mother couldn’t mask the satisfaction in her voice. Despite a sense of mild irritation, a feeling of comfort settled her nerves somewhat. Even with the stress, Mom still acted like Mom.

“
Okay. Bye, honey.” The phone disconnected.

Rachel placed the receiver in its cradle. After
grabbing her robe from the nearby recliner, she shrugged into it on the way to her computer, where she flipped on the monitor, booted up the desktop then opened the laptop. While the machines powered to life, she headed to the kitchen to start the coffee pot. She lived on coffee, not because she needed the caffeine, but because she loved the flavor.

As the beans
ground, she rolled her head. Last night, the vigorous sex left her boneless, but this morning all of the muscles had tightened and she needed another massage.
So much for the residual effects of spa day.
Still, she couldn’t erase her cat-ate-the-canary grin. She wouldn’t trade what had happened yesterday for a dozen massages.

Then the seriousness of her dad’s situation wiped all good humor away. She dumped the grounds into the machine, added water, and hit Start. This was his third heart attack in as many years. She could read between the lines of what the doctors were saying.
A stint probably wouldn’t do it this time, which meant open-heart surgery. The physicians had warned him.

She returned to her workstation
and typed e-mails to clients on the desktop while flight searches cranked out results on the laptop. Despite the extra cost of a direct flight over one with a layover, Rachel chose the earliest non-stop she could get. Nothing would suck more than getting there too late….She swallowed hard against the tears clogging her throat.

He’ll be fine.
He’s a fighter.

Thirty minutes later, she’d ordered plane tickets and gotten deadline extensions on two projects
due to start the following week, even after offering to refund fees so the companies could hire a new developer.
It pays to be the best of the best, even if my name’s not a byline on an AP article.
Then after a quick call to her mom to let her know the flight would arrive later that afternoon, she hit the shower. With no small amount of regret, just as she’d erased traces of him from her bed, Rachel washed Stephen’s scent from her body. It was time to forget fantasy and deal with reality.

Rachel wrestled her bag off the conveyor belt. With all the security measures these days, it was easier to check bags than stuff everything in a large carry-on and haul it through the airport hurdles. Even though it wasn’t like her parents didn’t have a washing machine and dryer if she needed it, Rachel had packed enough clothes for a few days. During her dad’s previous two trips to the emergency room and subsequent hospital stays, she’d found having her most comfortable jeans, tops, and shoes was a must for morale. Few things were more depressing than sitting around in hospital waiting rooms, and her dad needed her cheerful, not sad and fearful.

“Here let me,” a too-familiar voice said, and her st
omach sank while she stepped back and let Nate Butler grab her suitcase. He knew which one was hers because they’d taken more than one vacation together when dating in college. Yes, her luggage was a decade old, but her parents had given her the matched set as a high school graduation gift and it was top of the line.

She had a few choice words to say to her mother.
The woman had never recovered from the break up even though Rachel had. She swept him with a glance. “Hey, Nate.” He hadn’t changed much in the past few years. Six-two, lean build, sandy blond hair cut close, though some of the blond at the temples looked more white than golden.
Guess being a high-dollar lawyer comes with some stress.

“Hey, Rach.
Your mom asked me to pick you up. Hope that’s okay.”

When she returned her gaze to his brown eyes, h
e smiled. Back in high school, she’d thought them soulful. Now, they were just plain-old brown. Nothing compared to the green-hazel ones that flashed to mind and spread heat through her cheeks. His smile grew to a grin. God, did he think she was checking him out?

She suppressed a snort.
As if
.
The jerk had broken up with her because she wasn’t more adventurous. And that claim had nothing to do with her reluctance to go bungee cord diving or parasailing on their last vacation. He’d been irritated because she hadn’t jumped at the chance for a threesome with some blonde beach bimbo who’d sent over drinks.

I was
more than adventurous last night.

Fighting a smile, she said,
“It’s fine. It’s just a ride after all. And thanks for helping out Mom.” Despite the long-ago end to their relationship, when he went to visit his family, he still checked on her parents to make sure they didn’t need any help around the house. Nice of him, though she had no clue why he did it. She guessed even jerks could have a sense of civic duty, and their parents had been neighbors since forever. “How’s life treating you?”

He retrieved the handle of her suitcase then started walking, the bag rolling behind him.
She trailed him as he led the way out of the airport. “Good. I made partner recently.” As they stepped through the automatic doors and the wall of hot, humid Houston air slammed into them, he shot her an indecipherable glance before looking forward again and continuing the trek to the garage.

What was that about?
Frowning at the weird vibe he emanated, she said, “Mom might’ve mentioned it.”

Of course
her mother had gone into the promotion in all its glorious detail. Not for the first time, Rachel had been glad she’d escaped her relationship with Nate. She wasn’t a socialite. She didn’t do fancy dinners and schmoozing. She could care less about the latest fashions or owning the best car and house. And no matter what antiquated ideas her mother held, Rachel did not need a man to take care of her. When would the woman admit Rachel was doing well on her own?

“Yeah, I’m at the top of my game. Now, I’m ready to settle down and start a family.”

Rachel ground to a halt, alarm bells clanging loud in her ears. Anger simmered her blood.

Calm down, Rach. Maybe he’s just making conversation
.

With a frown, s
he resumed walking. He hadn’t even looked back to see where she was.
Typical.
She jogged along the open walkway connecting the airport to the garage and caught up to Nate at the elevators.

He sent her a crooked grin. “Left you speechless, huh?”

Something like that.
“No, I had a pebble in my shoe.”

He raised an eyebrow
but didn’t call her obvious lie. Airplanes weren’t gravel-lined and neither was the concrete concourse. “So, your mom tells me you’re on the market again.”

Rachel
silently counted to ten. What was she, a piece of merchandise?
The elevator doors slid open and she stepped into the car. “Uh, can we not talk about this right now? The only thing I can concentrate on is getting to the hospital and seeing my dad.” Didn’t he know she only wanted to reach her dad’s side?

“Sure. Sure. I understand.”
Nate joined her and hit the button for the sixth floor. “Though it’ll take us at least thirty minutes to get to the Medical Center, and that’s if the traffic isn’t horrendous.”

She rolled her eyes.
How inconsiderate could he be? The guy had no concept of boundaries or feelings or how to make small talk. What had she ever seen in him? She slipped her phone from her pocket then turned it on. “When we get out of the garage, I’ll call Mom and let her know we’re on our way.”