Only for You (32 page)

“I’m going to come,” she mumbled after a moment, mindless with pleasure.

He cupped her bottom from below, his middle finger burrowing into the crack. Her eyes sprang wide when he penetrated her ass.

“Ohhh,”
she cried out in shock when he began to finger-fuck her smoothly. He’d gotten the lubrication from the drawer. They’d left it there last night. He tongued her clit ruthlessly, shifting his face ever so subtly back and forth. His finger plunged into her ass at a brisk pace.

She screamed as a powerful climax slammed into her.

“I won’t make a habit of doing this twice in twenty-four hours,” she heard him say through the darkness and her haze of pleasure. “But I’ve wanted to be naked again inside you all day. All I can think about is coming deep inside you.”

She felt his hard cockhead press against her ass. Like last night, when he first pushed his cock into her, there was a flash of pain. She whimpered, pleasure and pain mingling. “Remember what I told you,” Seth said from above her. “Push back on my cock.” She did it and he slid deeper. “Ah, that’s
good
. Stay still a moment.”

When he’d entered her, she’d still been in the position she’d been in when he ate her so ruthlessly. Her hips were still rolled back, but now Seth was in a kneeling position behind her, his back straight. He held one of her ankles in front of him, keeping her leg in the air as he began to pump, gently at first.

She moaned shakily, and this time, it wasn’t in pain. It felt so good. There was a darkness to his possession . . . a desperation, as if he knew their time together was reaching an end.

She couldn’t bear the thought. She reached, finding his hip, urging him with her hand.

“Harder,” she pled.

“Jesus, Gia,” he grated out. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Her nails dug into his tensed buttock. “I’m asking for it. Fuck me hard.”

A low growl rumbled in his throat. He swung his hips, his pelvis smacking against her ass. She bit off a scream. He ground his balls against her ass, his cock throbbing deep inside her.

“I’m not going to last,” he bit out. “You feel like you’ve got a fever, you’re so hot.”

“I don’t want it to end.”

“Neither do I, honey. Neither do I.”

He began to fuck her slow and deep. Her face pulled tight at the pressure and friction. The moment felt electrical, full . . . intensely erotic. His pelvis began to smack rhythmically against her buttocks. She felt him much more acutely in her ass. Despite the fact that she’d said she didn’t want it to end, her body strained for release. She urged him with her hand on his ass. He gave a guttural growl and grabbed her other leg. He held both her ankles in the air, keeping her hips rolled back, and gave her what she had begged for.

She screamed, the sound of it vacillating as Seth plunged into her and their bodies crashed together. She hadn’t told herself to do it, but her hand was moving feverishly between her thighs.

“I’m going to come,” he told her, sounding wretched at the fact.

But she’d already sensed it, they were so attuned at that moment. She felt his cock swell inside her, and she grimaced, her hand moving faster between her thighs. His body went rigid. His groan sounded pained as he began to come. She hated the sound of it. She loved it. His warmth filled her, and she shuddered in her own release.

Afterward, she stared into the darkness, panting, feeling strangely both utterly sated and bereft at the same time.

This thing with Seth was going to kill her. Her desire for him was so sharp, it hurt. Why did the sweetest things in the world also have to be the most painful?

*   *   *

The next day, Seth seemed as subdued as she was. What had happened in bed last night seemed to hover around them, their lovemaking a poignant reminder of what was special between them. Seth was very tender with her all day, almost as if he thought she were ill or something.

Or as if he cherished her very much.

The day was gray and blustery, the wind so fierce it blew half of the leaves off the trees, exposing skeletal branches. Seth made a fire and Gia curled up in a chair near it, reading. He silently worked on sketches of her. Every once in a while, her cheek would tickle from his intent gaze on her face. She would look up, and they would share a smile.

These moments with him were so different from their fierce lovemaking. These, too, she wished would never end.

“Are you working on more sketches for the Eleanor makeup?” she asked him once, while she took a break from reading.

He grunted, scrunched his eyelids together and tossed down his pencil. “It’s no use,” he said.

“What’s no use?” she asked, sensing his frustration.

“I can’t get you the way I want you. It’s like . . . part of you always eludes me.”

“I’m one hundred percent right here. I assure you,” she replied softly. He blinked and met her stare, his frustration fading.

“You know what I think?” she asked.

He shook his head.

“I think you’re frustrated because you’re hungry.” She stood briskly. “I’ll get us some lunch.”

She made them grilled cheese sandwiches and salads. Afterward, they returned to the fireside, the warmth of the fire and the sound of Seth’s pencil scratching on his sketch pad lulling her. It felt wonderful, to be so relaxed and yet so aware of his attention focused on her, to have her senses so piqued by his nearness. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes.

“Gia?”

“Hmmm?”
she purred contentedly, turning her face toward him.

“Would you let me draw you nude?”

Her mouth fell open in surprise. “What does me being nude have to do with the Eleanor makeup?”

“Nothing.”

His steadfast reply vibrated in the warm air between them.

“It’s just that . . .” He faded off, frowning. Again, she sensed the frustration of a perfectionist who felt he was performing beneath his standards. “Ever since I first met you years back, I’ve been trying to figure out the magic of you. If I could only capture a hint of it, I’d be a happy man.”

“With your pencil, you mean?” she asked, amazement flavoring her tone.

“Any way I can,” he replied gruffly. Their gazes held in the taut silence. She sensed he had meant with his powerful lovemaking, as well. “I’ll never let another soul see the sketches,” he said. “I promise.”

“I’m not worried about that.”

She stood and began to undress.

“Where do you want me?” she asked awkwardly a moment later, standing before him, naked.

He merely waved at the chair and ottoman where she’d been reclining. She lay back, feeling both exposed and excited by his tight stare on her. Seth stood and moved to the far corner of the couch to get a more straight-on view of her. At first she was tense and hyperaware because of the novelty of the situation. Slowly, the warmth of the fire on her naked skin and the hushed, soothing sound of Seth’s pencil made her muscles go soft and relaxed. She studied his face and saw his hallmark rapier focus. She’d been silly to imagine he was considering this situation sexual, just because she was naked. He was an artist, after all, and in those moments, she was his subject. Still, it was a singularly sensual experience for her, to feel herself the target of his gaze and attention. Her eyelids grew heavy, and she drifted off to the sound of his scratching pencil and the crackling fire.

She awoke to the sensation of his hands moving along the sides of her rib cage. Her nipples drew tight.

“Seth?” she mumbled sleepily.

“Your skin is like warm silk,” he murmured, his gruff voice washing over her and awakening her nerves. He cupped her breasts from below and shaped them gently to his hands. “Is it all right?” he asked her simply, meeting her stare.

“More than all right,” she murmured. He stood and leaned over her, one hand sliding beneath her hips, the other pushing her against his chest. He lifted her. She saw that determined, familiar look on his face as he carried her. He lay her down on her back on the soft couch and began to unfasten his jeans, his gaze on her face.

A moment later, he was coming down over her, his cock slowly sliding home. She panted for air, gritting her teeth. She’d been wrong to think that he’d merely been the cool, detached artist as he drew her. His cock was huge and throbbing and clearly
very
affected. The knowledge moved her.

At first, he remained still while fully sheathed in her pussy.

Then he braced himself on his hands and began to move. She saw so many things in his eyes. They remained silent as he masterfully built the friction between them though.

Words couldn’t contain what she felt in those moments.

Later that afternoon, Gia heard Seth on the phone in the kitchen. Her ears pricked when she heard him say her name. She had a pretty good idea who he was talking to. A minute later, he walked into the living room where she sat.

“Was that Charles?” she asked him.

“Yes.”

Dread went though her when his gaze skated off her. “What is it, Seth?”

“The trial is going to begin on Wednesday.”

“
This
Wednesday?” she asked, stunned. He nodded. “But . . . Madeline said a week from next Monday at the very earliest.”

“I know. But it’s like Madeline said from the start, trial proceedings can be erratic in a high-profile case like this. Judge Halloran suddenly got a bee in his robes, apparently, and moved things up. Madeline wants you there as quickly as possible, so you can go over your testimony. The jury is going to be sworn in on Tuesday, opening statements will begin on Wednesday. You’re expected to be there, although you probably won’t testify immediately.”

Gia couldn’t speak. It was like something vital had been ripped away from her without warning. She didn’t have much time with Seth, save these few remaining days and nights, and then their hours on the road home. And those were going to be stolen from her as well? She turned her head, not wanting him to see the tears welling in her eyes.

“What are we going to do?” she asked, straining to keep her voice even.

“Charles is arranging a flight back to Los Angeles for tomorrow afternoon. I’ve also put in a special request in regard to you, and Charles told me that request has been agreed to by United Studios.”

“What?” she asked, bewildered.

“I asked that during the trial, you be allowed to stay in one of the Bunker Hill condos the studio keeps for visitors. It’s situated in a luxury tower, and it’s known for keeping its high-profile residents very secure. It’ll be safer for your police escort to protect you there. Plus, you won’t have to worry about driving back and forth from Bel Air to the downtown courthouse every day. The press is going to be even more rabid than it was before the trial began. I don’t want another incident where you’re run off the interstate. I spoke to Joshua Cabot about the possibility of you staying there a few days ago, and he arranged it all.”

“Will I go back to Los Angeles as Jessie, or me?” she asked, even though what she really wanted to know was,
Are you going with me?
Are we never going to see each other again?
It seemed impossible—soul-killing—to consider they might not. Everything they’d shared was about to evaporate into insubstantial memories?

“You’ll go back as Gia. A deputy is being sent to the St. Louis airport to escort you back to L.A.”

Her lips parted. If a police escort was being sent, then . . .

“You won’t be coming?” she asked hollowly.

She was avoiding looking at him, but she heard his heavy exhale. “No. You and I were going to drive the SUV back together before the trial date was moved up, remember? It belongs to a friend of mine. I have to return it. I’ll also need to clean the house and restock all the supplies we used.”

Her heart throbbed uncomfortably. She’d been looking forward to their return road trip together. That drive had been the silver lining. She’d known it would be an ending ritual for them, but it would have been intimate and special, now that they’d been honest about their desire for each other. Now that they’d stopped fighting it. A road trip between established lovers, the hours of enforced intimacy . . . well, it was the type of experience that could have been a game changer, a last-ditch possibility at saving what was so special between them.

It was the first time she really admitted to herself how much hope she’d been pinning on that return road trip. Now it was being snatched away.

“Gia—”

“No. Don’t say anything. We both knew this day would come,” she said, cutting him off. “I should go and pack.”

When she reached the bedroom, she shut the door, just in case Seth didn’t get the message that she wanted to be alone. For a few seconds, she just stood there, fighting down the feeling of misery threatening to choke her throat.

On Seth’s orders, she hadn’t made any outgoing calls on her cell phone or sent any text messages since leaving Los Angeles. But Seth had just told her the undercover operation was over. She was back to being Gia Harris once again. If she was going to make an exit from this cabin—from Seth’s life—she’d do it on her own terms. She couldn’t even consider the idea of a tear-filled airport good-bye with Seth tomorrow. It was so cliché and just . . . unbearable to consider.

Aching, but determined, she pulled out her suitcase and retrieved her cell phone and charger.

Gia Harris was back. It was time she took control of her life again.

*   *   *

Gia had just finished her packing when Seth walked into the bedroom. Shutting her suitcase, she stood and faced him. His brows were knitted together slightly as he studied her.

“You okay?” he asked quietly.

She nodded briskly, determined not to melt into a puddle, which is precisely what she felt like doing. “I was just thinking about the trial. It’s always seemed so far in the future, I haven’t really had time to consider what it’ll be like. Or maybe I just didn’t want to think about it,” she added under her breath with a mirthless laugh.

“You’re doing the right thing,” he said. Her gaze leapt to his face. “By testifying. By telling the truth. I know it’s been a huge inconvenience in your life, but I’m proud of you for doing it.”

Emotion tightened her throat. She swallowed thickly and glanced around the attractive, cozy bedroom, willing herself to calm.

“I’ll really miss this place,” she said.

“Yeah. It’s been amazing. Not the place. Being with you.”

Unwanted tears stung her eyes. He stepped toward her.

“Let’s talk,” he said.

“About what?” she asked, frustration and sadness making her sound desperate. “You’ve told me how you feel about us.”

“I don’t
know
how I feel about us. If I gave you the impression I have all the answers, I’m sorry. The circumstances have changed all that. You have. I know how I feel about
you
.”

She stared at him, aghast. For a few seconds, she just studied his bold features. They had become so familiar to her. She had learned to read him so well. Despite his words, she sensed his ambivalence, that same conflict she’d witnessed on his face when he’d been watching her reading to Daisy.

Her heart sank.

“The circumstances haven’t changed, Seth,” she said quietly. “You don’t think it would work between us in L.A., and I have my doubts too. I would shake up your whole world. And I don’t want to give up my work ethic or my dreams because you’re uncomfortable with them.” She threw up her hand and gave a sad bark of laughter. “It’s a catch-22.”

His face turned stony, but she sensed his anguish. Maybe it was because she’d fallen in love with him that she was so attuned to him, despite his impassive expression.

“When we started this, you said it would be best if we went our separate ways after it was all over,” she said, straining to keep her voice from shaking. “We both knew it would end.” She met his stare determinedly. “Well, the end has come.”

His mouth twisted slightly, like he’d just eaten something bitter.
He’s worried he’s hurt you . . . damaged you somehow.
The thought leapt into her brain, and she somehow knew it was true. It was so
Seth
, to worry about someone he cared about, to feel responsible for them.

“I’ll be fine, Seth. I’m not one of your vulnerable, fragile actresses,” she said gently.

“Jesus, Gia—”

“Listen to me.”
He blinked, startled at her interruption, giving her a fierce look. “I’ll be fine. And so will you.”

She wasn’t sure she believed it, at least on her part. But she was an actress, wasn’t she? What else was there to do but say the words, keep breathing, and put one foot in front of the other. She didn’t completely agree with Seth’s estimation of whether or not Hollywood romances were advisable, but she understood his doubts. She respected his history and his choices.

“I think, under the circumstances, I should sleep in the other room tonight,” she said, staring at the carpet. When he didn’t respond, she started for the door, rolling her suitcase behind her.

“Gia.”

She spun around, unable to disguise the tear that had fallen down her cheek.

“I’ve fallen in love with you.”

She closed her eyes and several more tears fell at his stark admission.

“I know,” she said in a strangled voice. “I’ve fallen in love with you too. That’s what makes this whole situation suck so much. Because unlike in the movies and in make-believe, it’s not enough. That’s one thing in common you and I have. We work in the industry, but we can tell the difference between reality and fantasy. You don’t want me to change for you, and I would hate it,” she clenched her teeth, struggling to find her strength, “so
hard
if you changed for me. See . . . I think you’re perfect the way you are.”

He looked like the weight of the world had just dropped on him, but he didn’t stop her this time as she walked away.

*   *   *

Seth had a rough night.

He lost count of the number of times he stood to go and confront Gia in the bed where she slept. Soothe her. Hold her. But it would just turn out like it had the night after they’d gone to Rill and Katie’s. They’d smoke up the sheets. They’d feel this incredible connection.

And then they’d be right back where they’d started.

Maybe it would be better if he insisted they talk in the car on the way to the airport. Sex wouldn’t be a factor then. It would just be Gia and him and the road, with nowhere to hide and no distractions.

Yeah. That’s what he’d do.

At around dawn, he got up and made coffee, setting out a cup, spoon and a packet of Splenda for Gia. He frowned, pain going through him. How she took her coffee was one of the thousands of things he’d learned about her during their time together. He knew there were millions more to learn. And dammit, those little, fascinating things about her, those tiny threads of the tapestry of her character, they were
his
to discover. To cherish.

He grabbed his coffee along with a bottle of water.
If only they could stay in the woods forever, things would be so much simpler.

He thought he heard Gia rustling around in the bedroom down the hall. Again, his feet seemed to have a mind of their own, urging him to walk down that hallway toward her. At the last second, he forced himself to take the stairs to the workout facility instead. They would talk on the trip to St. Louis. He would explain that he wasn’t the same man he had been when he first laid eyes on that beautiful, glowing girl in the Joan of Arc costume.

Or he was . . . but with Gia, he was different somehow too.

He’d been on the treadmill for nearly an hour when a strange prescience went through him. He slowed to a walk, and then stepped off the machine. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Had it been a sound that had alerted him? He glanced at the security panel on the far wall.

It had been deactivated.

He cursed viciously. Grabbing his phone, he raced up the stairs.

“Gia?” he bellowed down the hallway. There was no response.
“Gia?”
He rushed to the bedroom where she’d spent the night, finding it empty, the bed made. He hurried to the bedroom they’d shared, flinging open the door. There was a bad, hollow feel to the place.

She was gone.

He rapidly grabbed his keys and wallet. He flew out the front door within seconds.

Her red cardigan immediately caught his attention, even though she was quite a distance away. She stood next to a black sedan along with a brown-haired young man who looked unfamiliar. The car was parked on the shoulder of the country road that led to the long driveway of the house.

He started to eat up the distance between them.

Little minx had not only shut down the security alarm on the house, but she’d played it extra safe by requesting that her accomplice not come up the drive.

The man took her suitcase from her and put it in the trunk. Gia walked toward the passenger door. She froze when she saw him storming toward her.

“Get in the car, Jim,” he thought he heard her say tensely. She lunged to open the car door, eyeing Seth’s approach warily. The man—who must be her driver from L.A.—hurried into the car and slammed his door shut. He revved the engine. Gia started to sit.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Seth demanded, still hastening to reach her.

She ignored him, getting in the car and slamming her door shut. Seth thought he heard the click of the automatic lock. The car started to pull away.

“Gia!” he roared.

Her mouth moved. The car came to an abrupt halt. Gia’s face looked anguished through the window. The glass lowered.

“Don’t come any closer, Seth, or I won’t explain. I’ll just tell Jim to go.”

He gritted his teeth in mounting helplessness and anger. He came to a halt with thirty feet or so still separating them.