Hollywood Hit (27 page)

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Authors: Maggie Marr

Tags: #FIC027020 FICTION / Romance / Contemporary; FIC044000 FICTION / Contemporary Women

BOOK: Hollywood Hit
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Rush opened his mouth to speak, then closed it. His right eyebrow cocked upward and with it, the corner of his lip. “You’re not that stupid,” Rush said. “Or would you rather be the next person six feet under?”

Nikki’s heart hammered in her chest. She fought the urge to scream at Rush. To tell him whoever called her wasn’t his business. What she did wasn’t his business. But none of it was true. Not a bit. Nikki’s entire life right now was his business. He was meant to protect her, he had to protect her. He pressed forward and his chest skimmed hers. Her breath shortened into shallow gasps. She swallowed. His breath was hot upon her. His scent, the earthy scent of a strong, well-kept man filled her and she pushed back the urge to tilt her head to the side and turn her lips toward his.

“You aren’t as tough as you act.” Rush’s voice was thick gravel. He was so close, so hot… she could feel his attraction pressed against her. “I know who you are,” he said. “I know you.”

She opened her mouth to toss off a slick retort, but there were no words to say. His lips were on hers. The heat spiraled upward through her body and into her chest. A deep want she’d barely contained for months, since their night together in Ojai. His hand was at the nape of her neck and the other at the back of her head. She pressed her hands against his chest, rubbing upward, pulling at his shirt. She wanted his skin, she wanted his body, she wanted him pressed hard against her.

His tongue slipped past her lips and entwined with hers, the heat thrilling her. His lips pressed harder, pushing her back onto the couch. Her legs gave way and he was on her, all hard maleness, thick chest, and hard, quilted abs. He pressed down upon her with need. A need she flashed back to him. Her hips arched upward and pressed against his swollen cock. She wanted free of all the fabric between them. She reached her hands between them and unbuckled, unbuttoned, and unzipped. Her hands roamed over his tight ass, pushing the fabric away until all that pressed against her was his body.

She reached down and caressed his hard cock. A low deep moan escaped over Rush’s lips. He pressed against her as she stroked him. He placed one hand above her head and lifted himself, then grabbed for her shirt and pulled it over her head. He slid from on top of her and her body missed the heavy masculine press of his body against hers, the slick spot between her legs missed the press of him. His eyes stared into hers as he unbuttoned her jeans and slid them over her hips and thighs. He pulled one leg out at a time. Then he leaned forward and kissed around the lace edges of her panties. First up from the V of her pussy and along her left thigh. Fire spun through her and her hips arched. She wanted his mouth on the wet spot between her legs. His finger glided under the left edge of her panties as his lips continued their upward climb to her belly.

He teased her with his touch, with the hot spots left by his lips. His other hand slipped under the lace and touched the fiery spot that needed pressure, needed his touch. She jolted and a short breath clutched in her chest. She bit hard on her bottom lip. She was so empty and wanted to be filled by his hard, thick cock. A whine escaped over her lips, a whine of want and desire and need.

“Easy, sweetheart,” Rush mumbled past the skin on her belly as he kissed her. His hand pulled her panties from her body and his mouth was upon her. His tongue separated the folds of her skin and danced around her hard clit. Eager and wanting his touch, she arched upward. He sucked and pulled her greedy mound. He pushed to hear her moan, to feel her hips arch and buck. She clawed at his back, unable to contain the sharp, hot curls of pleasure coursing through her, taking her over and over again as he sucked on her and pulled. Two fingers pushed into her as his lips pulled harder on her clit. She shattered over and over, her hips rolling with his mouth.

Rush pulled away from her mound and was over her with both his hands planted on either side of her head. His body was hard, muscled perfection. She reached her hands to his chest as he guided his thick cock between her legs. With one gentle thrust he was in her.

“Look at me,” Rush growled.

She opened her half-lidded eyes and met his hard, dark gaze. His face was shadowed in lust, his gaze locked with hers as he rocked forward and back, pushing harder with each thrust. She grabbed for his shoulders with a low moan escaping over her lips. With the sound, Rush’s control broke and harder, darker want took hold. He bent to her lips and pressed hard, then grabbed both her hands and pushed them over her head. His thrusts were hard and fast, deeper and demanding, and a low growl came from his lips as his thrusts grew even faster and a slight film of sweat decorated his back. She ripped her hands free of his and clasped his backside, her fingers digging into him and pulling him into her. She wanted him buried deep within her. With another low, deep growl he pushed into her, then his body quivered and the wave started deep in her body and pulsed upward as he thrust once more. His body tensed and her body hit the wave as they crashed over the edge together.

 

*

 

“Who are you really?” Nikki drew long, lazy circles over Rush’s chest with her fingertip. Her eyes gazed at the tattoo that decorated his inner right bicep, impossible to see unless he was naked and had his arm around you. “You know absolutely everything about me, and I know nothing about you.” She glanced toward his profile. “Nothing that’s real.”

A long sigh escaped from Rush. He turned his gaze to her and his brown eyes softened.

“I’m the guy that cares for you too much,” Rush said. With those words, he pressed his lips to her forehead and tightened his grip around her. He pulled her closer. “Hollywood was much easier without you in it.”

Nikki gave him a playful nudge. “That’s not nice.” A smile danced across her lips.

“It’s the truth.” Another sigh. “This”—he waved his free hand between them—“isn’t good.”

Nikki’s stomach dropped. She fought to keep her disappointment over his comment out of her voice. “I thought it was pretty great.”

“No.” Rush smiled. “Of course this was great,” he continued. “You’re…” He let his gaze search the ceiling of the trailer. “You’re amazing in so many ways.” He shook his head and his smile slipped from his face. “But that’s the problem.” His gaze met hers again, and in his eyes resided worry behind the strength. “My decisions, my actions, the things I need to do to protect you, won’t be as sharp if I feel like this. Emotions weaken you.”

Nikki frowned. “If you care more, you give more.”

“Trust me, it doesn’t work that way. This, these feelings, this attraction, clouds the ability for clarity.”

Nikki’s heart hurt. He didn’t want her. He was rejecting her, rejecting what she’d given him, and this was the second time he’d rejected her because of his job. “Good thing it was just sex then,” Nikki said and pulled herself upward. She swung her legs off the couch.

“Hey.” Rush grabbed for her and pulled her back to him.

She tried to pull away but surrendered to his strength. She wanted to be nowhere else other than curled in his arms. She didn’t meet his gaze but instead stared at his golden skin.

“This wasn’t just sex,” Rush said. He placed his fingers under her chin and tilted her head upward and forced her to look in his eyes. “We’ve both had ‘just sex,’ and this wasn’t it.”

Nikki inhaled fast and her heart raced in her chest.

“I have real feelings for you. I have for a long while. I don’t sleep with the people I protect.”

Nikki looked through her eyelashes at him. She’d feared that sleeping with the women he protected was part of his job, a perk to being an amazing-looking, strong man.

“I never have,” Rush said.

Nikki settled her chin back upon Rush’s chest and his arm pulled her tighter to him.

“You still haven’t answered my question,” Nikki said.

“What’s that?”

“Who are you, really?”

 

 

Chapter 41
The Real Deal

 

“I’m a shadow,” Rush said. Darkness now filtered from behind the pulled shades in Celeste’s trailer. The sounds of a working set drifted away as the shooting day came to a close. “I don’t come from much and I don’t have much.” He turned his gaze toward Nikki and his breath caught in his chest—she was so damn beautiful. “Except what your uncle has given me.”

Her body tightened with his remark. He could tell she didn’t like it. She’d been fighting so hard to never take anything from either Ted or Celeste that the idea he’d taken it all: the money, the identity, the access without a quiver of remorse didn’t sit well with her. But he had and he’d do it again, in a second. All that had waited for him when he’d returned from his last tour of duty had been a small town with a minimum-wage job and a dad who spent more time drunk than sober. A referral from an officer to the security detail at Worldwide and then a nod from Briggs Montgomery, the head of security at the studio, had been enough to set Rush’s Hollywood lifestyle in motion. A life that most times he loved. But right now, with this girl in his arms, this girl who was the niece of the two people he owed his career to, he wasn’t certain how he could possibly keep Nikki and his cover and do his job.

Her face tilted toward his and those lips, so full and enchanting, reached to his lips. She pressed forward with a soft longing, then pulled away and stared into his face.

“I don’t come from much either,” Nikki said. “But you know all about that already.”

He did. He knew everything about Nikki Solange. Her birthday, her shoe size, where she grew up, what her mother had been like, the struggles she’d faced, the foster homes she’d bounced in and out of. He even knew all the details of the once-sealed court case involving Nikki and Calvin Geckler.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Rush asked. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

Nikki closed her eyes and a deep breath pressed her breasts deeper into him. His fingers ran through her amber ringlets. She rolled to her right and the back of her head rested on his arm as she stared up at the trailer ceiling.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I just… I just didn’t want to deal with all that again.” She closed her eyes. He watched as her lips pressed tight and then a tear rolled from the crease of her eye and over her temple. “He… I thought he was gone. That he couldn’t ever hurt me again.” She opened her eyes, now rimmed with tears. She turned her gaze to Rush. “That he’d never find me.” Her eyes pled for him to understand why she’d pretended that the threat wasn’t real.

“I can’t protect you if I don’t know what’s going on,” Rush said. He rubbed his fingertips over her cheeks. She was so fragile—she pretended to be tough and not care—but inside she was scared, and alone, and fearful that someone would figure out her tough-girl-I-don’t-give-a-shit routine.

“I know,” Nikki said and closed her eyes. She pressed into his touch. “I promise I won’t hide anything from you. I’ll tell you.” She opened her eyes and searched his expression. “I’ll let you in.”

His heart swelled but his belly clutched with panic. What a fucking mess this could be. He was falling hard for the woman he was meant to protect.

“I really thought he was locked up for forever,” Nikki said.

Rush pulled her closer. With Nikki cuddled deep in his arms, he didn’t have the heart to tell her that nothing was forever in Hollywood.

 

*

 

“Where is the pig?” Lydia asked. Her gaze rolled over Liam. His long arms and gangly legs with oversize feet entered her office when she had expected Bikram. Where was the fucker? They had a meeting with the Worldwide marketing department in twenty minutes.

“Dead,” Liam said.

“What the fuck!” Lydia’s hands slammed onto the top of her desk. “How many fucking people is this movie going to kill?”

Liam shook his head. “He didn’t go down like that.”

Lydia squinted her eyes. Liam was odd. She wouldn’t put it past him to actually try to kill Bikram—not that Bikram didn’t deserve it the way he’d continuously humiliated his assistant—but still, Liam killing Bikram would be illegal.

“Esophageal cancer,” Liam said. He sank into his seat and grabbed his forehead with his hand. “I didn’t even know he was sick.”

Lydia sighed. Bikram had no one—nothing other than his Hollywood career. He wouldn’t have shared this personal struggle, a health issue, with anyone in the Industry. There would be no point, and besides, who would finance a film if they were worried the producer would drop dead?

Lydia stood and walked around her desk and leaned against the front edge. She reached out and placed her hand on Liam’s shoulder. “How are you doing?” The kid was weird, but so were the majority of people in this town. “Look, we’ll figure it out. He had to have some relative—a cousin somewhere. This doesn’t affect anything. You’re okay, right? Can I help in any way—with the office, closing out the projects, figuring out what to do with all the accounts?”

Liam pulled his hand from his forehead and his gaze met Lydia’s. “He left me everything.” His eyes widened as though the knowledge of Bikram’s bequest hadn’t sunk in until this minute when he said the words out loud. “He even got the firm out of India to agree to back me for four years. Can you believe that?” Liam shook his head. “What a dickhead. I had no idea, none, that he thought I could ever do anything but read scripts and answer phones, and he leaves me his current projects and all the income from the past projects he worked on.”

“He must have really cared about you,” Lydia said.

“The man loathed me,” Liam said. “This is his way of never letting me forget it.”

Stranger things happened in Hollywood. Careers were built on talent, hate, family connections, drugs—why not death?

“It’s a hell of a way to get started in the business.” Lydia stood from the edge of her desk. She grabbed her purse and pulled out her shades. “Come on,” she said and walked toward her office door.

“Where?” Liam’s brow furrowed.

“You’re the producer of
Boundless Bound
. We’ve got a marketing meeting in ten.”

Liam’s eyes popped wider. He unrolled his gangly body from the chair. He ran his fingers through his tousled mousy hair. “I don’t know, Lydia—”

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