Hollywood Hot Mess (15 page)

I lurch off the table with a desperate moan when his lips find my body again, tracing up my nakedness from my toes as he tosses my jeans to the ground.

The unmistakable crinkle and rip of a foil packet echo in our moment and I know exactly what he’s doing when his hands leave my body and move toward his erection. But his kisses continue up, and by the time he reaches my navel his hands are back, pushing my legs wide over the parka he so expertly spread earlier, knowing exactly where my legs would be lying before we were done.

His weight crushes me against the table and I can hardly breathe when I feel the tip of him brush against me. I spasm wildly under him.

“Shh...” he coos into my ear, and silences me with a kiss.

My insides have long since melted into a pool of hot desperation, but with the arrival of his dick I’m immediately brought back to life and every single nerve ending my body possesses is firing white-hot from the tiny spot where our forbidden parts meet.

With the tiniest swivel of his hips my lips part, and he is now right at the very center of me, waiting to enter. He leans back, rocks forward, and the tip of him pushes gently into me. I whimper against his kisses. Not because it hurts, but because I’m so overwrought with feelings and emotion I don’t know what else to do.

“Shh... It’s okay, baby.”
Baby.
His single word caresses the darkest, unreachable parts of me. I writhe against the table, so desperate to have this man inside me. To quell the neediness that is ripping me in two. Oh, he knows what I need! He rocks back again, readying to go deeper, and I steel myself.

“Devon? Devon, are you out here?”

Cold-water reality douses our moment. I unsuccessfully lurch under his weight, instinctively jerking away from him and grabbing for my parka to cover my nakedness. His body remains completely still, covering me as best he can with his hands.

Again, I whimper against his lips. He immediately clasps a hand over my mouth and turns to the voice. Someone would have to have Superman X-ray vision to see us, but we’re extremely exposed. Me especially. Devon is still fully dressed except for his unzipped pants, but I’m spread-eagle and as nude as the day I was born.

“Fuck!” Devon swears under his breath.

“Devon? I know you’re out here.” It’s Gavin, the damned director who is hell-bent on ruining my life.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Devon continues cussing under his breath, rubbing the hand that was clasped over my mouth down his face as he thinks. I’m suddenly incapable of movement, frozen with the fear of losing him.

“What do we do?” I whisper in the darkness.

Devon sinks his head into my hair, breathing heavily. His teeth grind in frustration and I cringe at the sound. He’s beyond pissed, his body just as rigid and hard as his penis, which is now resting its wet tip against my inner thigh.

“I have to go. Nobody can know about this.”

His words are the sharpest needle pricking my heart, which quickly deflates in my chest.

Without another word, Devon stands up, tucks his erection back in his pants and zips up. He offers me a hand and pulls me back to sitting, wrapping the parka around me and kissing me gently on the lips.

“This isn’t over.”

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, Mr. Hayes,” I shoot right back at him, wondering where in the hell the sex kitten possessing my body has come from. He chuckles as he steps into the light. Gavin is grinning like a damned fool when Devon emerges from the darkness. A smile so vile I want to run up and slap it off his face. Of course, I can’t.

Inside, my poor body has been so drunk with adrenaline since Devon first whispered in my ear I feel like I’m about to pass out, utterly drained of all energy now that he’s gone. Pulling the parka further around me, I reach for a cigarette and fire it up, looking at the damned stars that got me in this mess. Had I never stepped foot out of my room this evening, I never would have run into Devon and wouldn’t be sitting here with the female version of blue balls freezing my ass off.

But, honestly? I’ll never regret it as long as I live.

Chapter Fifteen

His skin is hot, chasing the castle’s damp chill from my body. He snuggles closer under icy sheets. Inside, my body rages, all the unfulfilled desires from last night boiling just below the surface. But outside I’m aloof and indifferent. Hoping desperately to convince him I’m the grown woman he wants. After our almost fuck, I’m more determined than ever to make this happen.

The crew shuffles away, leaving only Gavin and a cameraman to watch us make love. Gavin is at the top of my shit list. I’ve taken every chance I can to let him know it with scathing glares. But my petty grudge is sidetracked for the moment. Fear mixes with the scorching neediness in my belly when I remember this isn’t about me and Devon. This is it. The scene Jerrie and I tried unsuccessfully to have removed from the script.

When the studio learned my tits were real they insisted on getting one shot au naturel. Apparently that’s the price a girl pays for being cast in a sweeping period romance. Nothing pornographic or vulgar, just a tasteful shot of my bare breasts—more Kate Winslet than Courtney Stodden. In exchange for this, sex scenes will remain as PG as possible. Nothing below the waist, only close-up on the face, and wide-pan shots of us rolling around under the sheets. Body doubles are used for the rest.

I keep telling myself it isn’t the
whole
world seeing me totally naked. Only the man who is quickly becoming my entire world.

“Sorry we got interrupted last night,” he says, his hands caressing my face. I told myself I would not be the first to say something, but his barely contained frustration tells me he is just as rocked with lust as I am.

“No worries.” My voice is all lilting nonchalant indifference, but damn it if it doesn’t waver at the end.

“Are you ready for this?” He hears the confidence betrayed in my tone and strokes my cheek. “You feel okay about it?” He readjusts slightly and my skin is immediately chilled where he moved away.

“Honestly, I’m nervous as hell. I’ve never done nude, and I’m more than a little freaked out about the world seeing my tits.” I close my eyes and shake my head, trying to make the thought go away.

He rises up, the warmth of his body leaving mine, sending another arctic chill over me that tightens the rosy pink skin of my breasts as he stares down at them. My nipples would respond the same way from his attention alone, and for the first time I bless the frigid cold for giving me some cover.

“Don’t worry about it. They’re gorgeous.” He appraises them and my insides flush just as brightly as my cheeks. A self-righteous smile tells me he loves the effect he has on me. “Don’t worry about it, babe, just follow my lead. I’m the king. You’re just along for the ride.” Oh, his words are true on so many levels.

“Be gentle?” I tease, trying to cover the mounting unease of fear and lust fighting for control over my body.

“Always, Sunshine,” he whispers

“Sunshine?” I ask, confused by a pet name I’ve never heard. He hesitates, sheepishly looking around to ensure no one’s listening.

“I wish you could see yourself the way I do.” He strokes my cheek, his gaze lingering there. I tuck my head to the side, trying to figure out if he’s being serious right now. “You shine, Carly. Always have.” His finger slides over my cheek and down my neck. He traces gently along my collarbone, one of the more sensual places a woman can be touched. Goose bumps pop over my flesh. My heart leaps into my throat.

“I’m good with Sunshine,” I babble, nodding quickly and way too enthusiastically, incapable of coming up with any kind of meaningful response.

“And I’m good with you.” He looks at me now. His gaze purposeful and deep, like he can see the dark parts of my soul that he’s slowly bringing light into. My insides melt like a snowball in hell and I’m completely caught off guard when another voice interrupts our moment.

“Action!” Gavin yells and the camera whooshes into place over us. I jump at the unexpected movement and my heart quits beating. But then I feel Devon’s kisses, nibbling up my neck and over my jaw, coaxing a whimper from my throat just as he did last night.

My hands slide around his waist and up the rounded muscles bulging from his back as he holds himself in place over me. I lift my head and roll it to the side, giving him better access to my neck.

“We need some sound, baby. Sell it!” He growls in my ear, his words heating the blond curls at my ear. I let a little panting moan escape my throat. “Good girl!” he breathes, and interlaces my fingers in his, taking them up to the pillow by my face, where lust is slowly winning out and opening my mouth in a hungry way.

His kisses trace down my neck, over my collarbone to my chest and then slowly continue, the rough stubble of his beard pulling the sheet with him. Tiny spasms rock my belly, a spontaneous reaction to the mixture of his rough beard scratching my skin and the whisper-soft sheet sliding away.

I almost cry out in pain, because these sensations are so intense they make me feel sick. Two conflicting forces are crashing against each other in my burning body. On the one hand I want to throw myself completely into making love to this gorgeous man—a thought that has consumed me for days now. But there is also the niggling need to protect what little innocence I still have from the voyeuristic camera lens, which has been the overruling need in my life for years. These two forces are tearing me right down the middle and it actually
hurts
.

As if he can sense he is losing me, Devon’s hand leaves mine on the pillow and traces the trail his kisses have left, straying over to my nipples as they pass, caressing my body with an urgent touch. Reminding me I’m his.

With expert fingers, he rolls my nipples back and forth, pricking them to tight little rubies under his touch. Electricity shoots straight down to my crotch and I buck off the bed in near euphoria. His mouth closes over my rock-hard nipples as his hand continues down, splayed flat against my belly, over my navel and down farther, reaching between us where he massages me like he did last night. Ruled only by sensation, I grind against his hand, feeling the familiar juices flow, wanting it to be so much more than just a hand at that moment.

I rise off the bed, no longer bothered by the camera inches from us, and grab Devon’s head in my hands. Forcing my kisses on him, just as he forced his on me last night. He doesn’t miss a beat, throwing his body back over mine, burying me in the pillows.

True stage kisses don’t involve tongue, just lips moving together to imply something is going on behind them. But Devon’s tongue is sliding over mine with a powerful persuasion. Our tongues quickly find a rhythm with one another like we’ve done it a million times.

We roll over the enormous bed, tangling in the sheets, his flesh hot as fire. A flick of his hips, a tug on my shoulder, and my back leaves the mattress. Now sitting astride his hips, I ride their rhythm. I thought I didn’t want to do this, but with his hands tracing up my belly, reaching for my bare tits, I suddenly do.

He wants me. Devon Hayes wants me, and I want everyone to see. I look into his eyes, teasing my fingers along his arms as they cup my breasts.

A moan erupts from my throat and echoes into the corners of the room. The length of him swells against me. All that separates me from what I crave are our crotch socks—two flimsy pieces of nude silk. I find myself wishing he would rip them away and give me what I need.

His hands tangle in my hair, pulling it down my back and my head with it as he sits up to meet me, planting a deep kiss so forcefully on my lips our teeth clatter together. A slightly metallic taste lingers in my mouth along with the minty freshness of him and I know his need has busted his lip. But it doesn’t slow his pursuit.

He snakes his hand around my waist and slings me down to the bed. Oh, he likes it rough. Or is he just acting? Either way, I don’t care. My body is so alive and ravaged by the needful parts of me that reach out to him I don’t really care what he does to me. I need him and he wants me and I’m not the kind of girl to let details get in my way.

Fingernails dig into the soft flesh of my thighs with a viselike grip, forcing my legs open and up to the side with the help of his knee. I cry out this time. He finds his place between my legs, adjusting the length of his crotch sock so it lines up perfectly with the center of my valley.

The sheets fall away from us and I can only imagine how glorious the rounded muscles of his tanned ass look against the white sheets as they push into me. I reach down for them, digging my fingernails into his cheeks so hard he growls against my lips. Staring down at me with rabid want darkening his eyes, I’m almost frightened by the beast I’m about to release. But I don’t stop. He reaches back and grabs my wrists, twisting me once again so I’m on top, straddling him. His hips rise to meet me, keeping our rhythm, coaxing me into a higher gear. Only he’s gripped my wrist at an angle that hurts the almost-healed wound. I wince, totally pulled from the moment.

Discomfort slows my movement and snaps me back to the reality of what I’m doing. I’m no blushing virgin, but I’m not a porn star either. Honestly, I don’t remember ever having sober sex. And an audience is not part of my riding-Devon-like-Seabiscuit fantasies. Again, he senses my hesitation and pulls me down to him, wrapping me in his arms and rolling on top of me without ever losing contact with the growing wetness between my legs.

He kisses me again, searching me, nuzzling his nose against my ear, pulling me back into our moment.

“Are you ready?” he breathes heavily into my neck so the microphone can’t hear.

“Yes!” I shout, totally forgetting my lines but knowing that at that point I’m way past the mediocre desire a writer could have created sitting at a desk.

“Yes what?” He picks up on my need and rolls with it, his hands pinning mine against the pillow above my head. I focus on his weight holding me down and force myself back into character.

“Yes, Your Majesty!” I mentally high-five myself for keeping it together and saving the scene. But that victory is short-lived.

His body moves in a rhythmic way, rocking into me just as he did last night. Everything below my navel immediately convulses. His motion picks up, faster and stronger. The friction between our bodies works itself into a hot, glistening lather. A hand reaches down and grabs my thigh, pulling it up higher so that I can wrap my leg around his back and pull him deeper into me.

My crotch sock slips ever so slightly to the side and bunches in the basin between, leaving half of me exposed to him. With this tiny adjustment, I can feel the full force of his thrusts and the rock-hard length of him rubbing against me. I’m already hot and bothered in too many places and I don’t understand what the feeling is that slides with a delicious tickle up from my crotch with every thrust.

The little waves of sensation crawl into my belly and pool there, building, crashing against whatever dam is holding them back, refusing to let them flow any farther away from him. My back arches away from the bed, rising up to meet him. I have the sudden urge to bite his shoulder because the tickle has now turned to a pain so delicious I can’t stand it.

He growls again, but it isn’t angry, it’s like a hungry jungle cat warning danger is near. His hands tangle in my hair again, pulling my head back and arching my neck to his lips. He licks the soft virgin skin and when he sinks his own teeth into the flesh on the side of my neck and thrusts against me a final time, the dam gives way with an utterly demolishing implosion.

My eyes roll back in my head. My body convulses, searching for something to hold onto and beat itself against. It finds nothing, which makes this release the most frustrating thing I have ever felt. I’m panty and breathy and digging my nails into his back, leaving long red marks as I scratch my way to his ass, pushing him into me again—hard. My body seizes under him, rubbing against his length with my own impatient rhythm, spitting the last few trickles of wetness from behind the crumbled dam. My orgasm flows out of me and into the hot wet pool where our crotch socks meet.

We still against the sheets, panting, sweaty as we hold one another. Our bodies sway together with a seemingly shared breath.

“Fuck me,” he mumbles from somewhere beside me. I’m completely spent beneath him and don’t even have the strength to open my eyes. My hands fall away from his ass, but he doesn’t move away. He shifts slightly, running a hand between us on the pretense of readjusting his crotch sock.

My vagina spasms into his open palm when he reaches for me. I open my eyes in utter shock, meeting a hungry navy stare and wicked smile. His finger deftly slips beneath my crotch sock and slides inside hot pink flesh. My need for him lubricates the way. He circles the finger once, twice, making me whimper with desire and then quickly pulls it out.

I’m completely recovered and ready to go again with the tiniest encouragement from him, but he shakes his head and plants a swift kiss on my forehead, pushing me back down to the pillows and pulling the nude silk back into place.

“Cut?” Gavin’s voice is dazed and we both turn our heads to him, reminded that we aren’t the only ones here. Both he and the cameraman are staring at us in slack-faced awe.

“Give us a minute?” Devon barks incredulously as he looks up at the camera and microphone hanging inches from us.

The cameraman remembers his job and retracts the camera to its base.

“Are you okay?” Devon whispers, his nose nuzzling my ear and sending chills down my body. In my head, I’m dancing around like a sex-crazed maniac. If dry humping Devon Hayes can do this to a girl I can’t even imagine what the real thing is going to be like.

“Better than okay.” My voice is all breathy and it sends a shiver down his body.

“I’m jealous.” He traces his lips with the finger that just discovered my secret. His tongue flicks out, pulling it into his mouth. He sucks on my wetness ever so slightly before releasing it slowly from between his lips. My insides clench.

This man is going to ruin me.

* * *

I couldn’t bring myself to take a shower before I leave set, which is saying a lot because my new trailer’s bathroom is way nicer than the roach motel shower I’ve been using.