Living Dangerously (12 page)

“I shouldn’t have come over.” He shook his head. “Shouldn’t have rang the doorbell in the first place.”

Staring at him, she crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her gaze. “What is the problem?” She shook her head. “You’re going to need to spell it out for me because as far as I can tell, we’re two consenting adults and—” She stopped suddenly. “Are you married? Because if you’re married then you’re right, you can haul yourself out of my house right now. I never saw a ring on your finger, but if you think I sleep with married men, then you’d be categorically wrong.”

Troy closed his eyes and dropped his chin to his chest. He believed her. Everything he’d seen between her and Ari until now made perfect sense. Her body language had told the story, but he’d become so damn cynical that he wouldn’t believe his own eyes.

It didn’t change the fact that he still worked for Ari. It didn’t change the fact that he’d been watching her for weeks, months with the sole intention of nailing her to the wall when it came to wrecking a marriage.

He’d been wrong. His relief didn’t temper his frustration with the whole situation.

“Well, are you?” Her voice sounded razor sharp, and America would have been hard pressed to find their Sweetheart anywhere in the vicinity.

He met her gaze. “No.”

She huffed and shook her head. “Then what is the issue?” When he didn’t immediately answer, she paced in front of him. “Let me ask you something. Do you think I kiss a lot of guys the way I just kissed you? Do you think I—” She let out a frustrated groan that mirrored his exact aggravation. “I just don’t get it.” She stared at him and waited.

He couldn’t tell her he’d been hired to watch her, not while Sophia remained a client. He had strict confidentiality issues. His reputation demanded it. “I like you. A lot. Too much,” he said. “This is just—” Talking had never been his strong suit. This conversation was killing him.

“Just?” she prompted. “What? Just bad timing? Just plain crazy? Just not what you wanted?” She shook her head. “Maybe I’m not what you thought I’d be? I have no idea. People think one thing of me, and when they get the real me it’s a completely different story. I’m not glamorous or exciting or lead a wild life. Well, fine.” She gestured behind him. “Walk out the door. But don’t think you’ll get another chance to come back in.” Turning, she faced the slider doors that led out to the narrow backyard.

Troy’s heart felt like a twenty-pound medicine ball. It sunk hard and fast. He wanted her more than anything he’d ever wanted in his life. He wanted her with a powerful need that shot from his chest clear down to his toes. He craved the taste of her, the feel of her in his arms. His pulse thudded hard and fast as he stood frozen on the spot. He wanted her because of all the things she wasn’t. Who needed glamorous when you had down-to-earth and real? Who cared about wild when you craved steadfast and solid?

He’d never jeopardized his work before, had never had the inclination. How could he start now? Until he talked to Sophia and quit, he couldn’t act on his impulse. It would be unethical. Completely wrong. And once he walked out the door, his chance at spending time with this woman disappeared like one of Copperfield’s illusions. Ultimately, he knew what he had to do. Knew it with a certainty that crushed him like the weight of an avalanche. He turned, put his hand on the knob and opened the front door.

Chapter Ten

Julie refused to cry. She stared out the giant picture window overlooking the backyard and absolutely refused to cry over a guy she barely knew. At least not until he’d left her house, at which point, there did exist a chance she’d break down like a teenager after her first heartbreak. Which was disturbingly ridiculous.

She was old-fashioned. With the exception of work, she dated a guy before kissing him. Yet a few minutes ago she’d had no qualms kissing this man like her life depended on it. What the hell was that all about? Just because he’d saved her life—on multiple occasions—didn’t mean she had to take him bed.

She just
wanted
to take him to bed.

He was such a contradiction. Tonight, dressed in all-black, he struck her as the ultimate bad boy, but every one of his actions had painted him as a good guy.

The door closed, and in spite of her anger, tears stung her eyes before slipping down her cheeks. She bowed her head and let them fall.

What was wrong with her? She was a twenty-seven-year-old Hollywood A-list movie star, and she didn’t have a boyfriend and couldn’t get the guy she liked to sleep with her. Sure, she’d made the choice years ago to be particular about who she wanted to be with. She wanted a regular guy. Someone who—preferably—knew nothing about show business. Someone who had his own money and didn’t care about hers. Somebody strong enough and with enough confidence to deal with her fame without letting it affect the way he treated her.

Was that too much to ask?

Apparently so.

A sob broke free and she turned to get a tissue from the corner end table.

Troy still stood by the front door and she nearly jumped a mile at his looming presence. He hadn’t left. Her heart skipped a couple of beats, then pounded triple time. Blood rushed to her cheeks. He didn’t try to hide the combination of confusion and wonder on his face. As if the sight of tears had rendered him deaf, dumb and blind.

Julie felt sliced open wide for the whole world to see. But the only person watching moved toward her steadily, a look of determination taking over his features as she stood rooted in place. She didn’t know what to say or where to go.

“Goddammit,” he swore softly as he stepped in close. He cupped her face in his hands. Wiped her tears with his thumbs, then bent his head and kissed her. This kiss couldn’t have been more different than the first. The first kiss had rocked her. This kiss scared the hell out of her. He took his time, brushed his mouth tenderly across hers, coaxed her lips apart with a gentle tongue and teased her with soft licks and little nibbles. She breathed in his faint spicy aftershave and let him take her mouth.

Her knees went weak. Her insides turned to mush.

She set her hands on his forearms, intending to push him away. She shouldn’t let him kiss her. Shouldn’t let him think he could play push me/pull me with her emotions and get away with it, but instead she hung on as her heart warred with the joy of having him kiss her versus her pitiful lack of dignity.

Why had he stayed after all?

More important, did she care?

She’d liked him from the beginning. From the moment he skidded next to her on the red carpet while bullets were flying. He’d risked his life for her on more than one occasion. That had to count for something in a moment like this when she very nearly shoved him back.

He felt her tension. She knew it when he pulled away a fraction and studied her face. She hadn’t put her arms around him or kissed back. Allowing the kiss hadn’t made her a partner in it and he clearly realized it.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I don’t ever want to be the cause of your tears. Not ever.” He leaned in again and kissed her just as softly, his lips smoothing over hers with gentle insistence, the tip of his tongue teasing the crease of her mouth. He wanted cooperation. He wanted in.

Julie pulled back, let his breath glide over her tingling lips. “So, what is this? Are you staying or going? I honestly don’t know.” Her lids stayed almost totally closed as she waited for his answer. She couldn’t bear to look at his gorgeous deep brown eyes and didn’t want him to see the effect he had on her.

“Julie.” He whispered her name and this time she did look at him. His gaze bore into hers, searching, seeking, needing something from her, but she had no idea what. The more time she spent with this man, the more she realized she had no idea who he was. He shook his head the tiniest bit. “Don’t look at me like that. Like you’re ready to run. I was about to run myself three minutes ago and changed my mind.”

“Why?” The word barely came out, but she deserved an answer. “What’s wrong with me?”

He drew back sharply, his brows creased together. “What?” In the next instant he pulled her close and she felt the strong beat of his heart against her cheek. “You’ve got it all wrong. There is absolutely nothing wrong with you.” She shifted and he lowered his head. His lips grazed her ear, sent a riot of tingles down her back and arms. “I was running because of me.”

She looked into his eyes. She needed more than that. Did he think she’d fall for the
It’s
not
you
,
it’s
me
line?

“Give a guy a break, okay.” He must have seen the skepticism in her eyes. “You’re Julie Fraser. I have to wrap my head around the fact that Julie Fraser gave me a booty call.”

Her jaw dropped open and a wave of heat spread across her whole face. She couldn’t argue, because he was right. She’d called him late at night and had basically invited him over because she was lonely. She’d wanted companionship. Someone to talk to and laugh with. And maybe, tonight, someone to sleep with. She’d gone through three near-death experiences in the last two months, and everything combined made her realize how quickly it could all end. Maybe it was the way they’d been entwined on the stairs. The way she’d felt his physical reaction to her. Or maybe she’d just gone too long without a man and simply needed the connection.

A handsome grin curved his lips. “I think I’ve wrapped my brain around the idea,” he murmured. He brushed his lips gently across hers and sent all the hair on her arms and nape at attention. He flattened his palm at the base of her spine and halfway over her ass and a surprising zing of lust shot through her. “Yeah.” He nodded. “Definitely wrapped.”

He set his mouth to hers and this time Julie participated. Oh, Lord, how she participated. She not only participated, she might have taken over. But it was hard to tell because they both fumbled with buttons and zippers as Troy walked her backward to her bedroom. He knew exactly where to go since he’d been through her house already. By the time they got there, her top and jeans lay somewhere down the hallway along with his shirt.

His hands smoothed over her skin as if he couldn’t touch enough of her, as if he’d waited his whole life to touch her. She wasn’t especially shy either. She loved the play of muscles on his chest, the dusting of dark hair that arrowed down to the waistband of his jeans and straight to the straining erection beneath.

Now, standing next to her giant bed, he pulled back and took a long look at her. Moonlight shining in from the window illuminated his hungry gaze. Wearing just her bra and thong, she never felt more appreciated in her whole life. As if all the hours she spent in the gym were for this moment and none other. Not a film or a photo shoot. But just for Troy.

He grazed his thumb across the scar on her arm from the bullet. He had a similar one on his shoulder. In that one way they were very connected, and it helped her get more comfortable in the nerve-wracking moment. Their matching scars marked their first meeting, gave them a unique starting place. They both had an appreciation for life that maybe hadn’t been there before. Maybe that’s what tonight was all about. Appreciation. It was about living life and living in the moment, giving and taking. Sharing the sweetness of a first kiss and first touch and not worrying about what it meant.

Troy fingered the front clasp of her bra and she held her breath, waited for the first illusion to disappear. The only thing that would make her barely there Bs beautiful would be surgery and she refused to cross that line.

His knuckles scraped the bottom of the bra and his gaze fastened on her eyes. He unsnapped the hook, but his look didn’t waver. “You don’t need this,” he whispered roughly.

Did he mean the push-up part or the bra as a whole? Push-ups were all she owned. “That’s a matter of opinion.” Her voice had a strange husky edge to it.

“My opinion,” he said very succinctly, “is that you don’t need this.” He eased the straps off her shoulders and let the bra fall to the floor, leaving her bare breasted. When his gaze moved from her eyes to her chest, her nipples puckered. He cupped her breasts, rubbed his thumb over the stiff peaks and made her gasp when his short thumbnail flicked each tip. Fiery shocks of lightning zipped through her nerves.

When he bent his head and took her in his mouth, she had to grasp his shoulders to stay on her feet. His teeth pulled gently on her nipple as his tongue stroked. The combined sensations had her struggling to breathe. She tipped her head back, loving the way the alternate glide and suction washed through her, sending fresh waves of pulsing need between her thighs.

Troy bent lower, wrapped his arms around her middle and stood up, lifting her in his arms as he continued to suck at her breast. In seconds, he had both of them on the bed and rolled her beneath him. He worked his way up her throat, across her jaw until he reached her mouth, where she very clearly thanked him for all the attention by driving her tongue past his teeth.

She wiggled her hands beneath the waistband of his black jeans and under the elastic band of his underwear, searching for that part of him she wanted to touch most.

“Wait,” he rasped. “Not yet.” He intercepted her hand and trapped it on the pillow.

“Why not?” she panted. “I get to play too.”

His wicked grin sent a full body flush across her skin. “You will definitely play. But me first. I’ve been thinking about this since that night on the balcony. You don’t want to ruin a man’s fantasy, do you?”

She was his fantasy? She still couldn’t imagine how she could be any man’s fantasy. Sure, with makeup and hair done to perfection, she understood the illusion, but Troy had seen her at her worst in the hospital. He knew the real deal. That her lips were a little too thin, her nose too sharp. Now he knew her breasts were too small. She’d worked hard on her body, making a personal decision to gain weight by packing on muscle. She’d been too skinny during all those years growing up on TV, listening to the executives tell her she needed to keep her weight down.

Now, he’d seen her crying with smeared mascara and she was still his fantasy.

His wicked mouth continued another descent and it felt too incredibly good. Okay, to hell with having her way with him. If he wanted to go first then by all means, he could go first.

Inch by inch, he kissed and licked his way down her ribs, her abs and toward her hips. He wrapped an arm beneath her and she arched into his mouth when he reached her belly button and circled with his tongue.

Bringing in air got a lot tougher. Knowing where he planned to go had every cell inside her screaming in anticipation. He glided his lips over her hipbone and inched the thong down. With his teeth.

Her whole body trembled as chills streaked across her skin.

His slick tongue eased across the band as he moved to the other side and pulled that down as well, slowly easing the material off her hips until it just barely covered the racing stripe leading the way to nirvana. He’d reached home plate, but instead of sliding for the mound his gaze caught hers. “There’s one thing I need to know,” he whispered roughly.

Of course! God, how come she hadn’t thought of this earlier? “I’m healthy,” she panted. His gaze narrowed. “I am too, but that’s not what I was asking. I’m dying to know what

you taste like.”

A fresh surge of moisture pooled between her thighs.

He nuzzled her clit and made her jump, then swiped his tongue over the silk of her thong. “Pretty damn good,” he muttered. He took the thong down the rest of the way until she lay exposed to his heated gaze. “Don’t mind me.” He hooked each leg over each one of his arms and settled between them. “This is going to take a while. Relax.”

A nervous laugh erupted from her gut, but died a quick death when his mouth clamped over her clit and went to work. He licked, stroked and sucked her into a mindless frenzy. He had her panting, gasping and moaning his name. Begging for release, pleading for him to fill her. His big hands roamed her sweat-slicked skin and dim moonlight washed over the flexing muscles in his back. When she thought she couldn’t take it another second, he eased back and rolled her over, shocking her completely when he set his mouth on the crease of her ass. She pulled away, but he held her steady, using his tongue to tease and torture the delicate, sensitive flesh. He moved down to the crease between her butt and thigh and teased there too, driving her crazy with his hot mouth and lush lips.

He snuck his hand beneath her, between her thighs, and she shamelessly rubbed against his palm, silently begging to be filled. She cried out when two thick fingers pushed inside her slick entrance. She moved down and forced them deeper, reveling in the way he stroked her, pushed her higher.

Once again he flipped her and this time, he shoved three fingers deep inside as his tongue lashed her clit. The instant climb shot her to the peak. Firecrackers went off in her skull. Lights exploded behind her closed lids. She cried out and convulsed around his fingers, every pulse a pleasure ride so intense she forgot to breathe. The sweetest, perfect moment of her life.

When she finally stilled, gasping for air, she saw him watching her with such a look of satisfaction on his face that she smiled. “Don’t look so cocky. You’re not done yet.” She crooked her index finger and beckoned him forward. “C’mere.” She wanted more.

Troy’s eyes narrowed as he slowly climbed up her torso, leaving light licks and small nips in his wake. He still had on his jeans and they scraped against her bare legs.