Over Exposed (17 page)

Without a condom.

*  *

Greg realized what he'd done a millisecond after it happened.

And he still didn't pull out.

No, he lay there staring at the ecstasy on her face and thought,
Mine
.

Yeah, but for how long?

A few seconds later, she collapsed onto his chest and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight.

His cock continued to twitch inside her. The feel of her squeezing his bare flesh was something he wouldn't give up for all the money and power in the world. But, Jesus . . . There could be consequences.

“Bree. We didn't use a condom.”

She didn't say anything right away, her breathing continuing to slow as the seconds passed.

Finally, she sighed. “I know. It's okay. I'm on the Pill.” She paused. “And I'm fine. I mean, there's nothing you should be worried about. Healthwise, I mean. I'm sorry. I didn't realize until it was too late—”

“Whoa. Hey, that's not why I said anything. This is not your fault. It's mine.” His arms tightened around her as she stiffened against him. “You've got nothing to worry about from me. I'll get you my health records later today if you want.” He paused, thinking. “I can't honestly tell you the last time I had sex without a condom. I just don't want you to think I don't care about what happens to you.”

After a few deep breaths, she tried to move but he refused to let her. He wanted her right where he had her for as long as he could keep her there. He liked the feel of her breasts pressed against his chest and her hands in his hair.

Finally, she fell still again, nestling her head under his chin. He relaxed, though he kept his arms around her.

“I've been on the Pill for years. And I've never had unprotected sex. My mom—”

“Your mom what?” He wanted her to talk to him, wanted to hear whatever she wanted to tell him.

“My mom got pregnant at sixteen but I think I told you that. My sperm donor was never in the picture. Mom used to say when he found out she was pregnant, he ran so fast he left skid marks. I've never met him. With my grandparents' help, she finished school and got a job. She met my first stepdad, Diego, when I was five. He adopted me after they had my first two sisters. He died twelve years ago. Brain cancer. My mom was pregnant with the twins.”

“Jesus, that sucks, babe. I'm sorry.”

She rubbed her cheek against his chest, the motion making him want to hold her even closer. “It does and thank you. I kept his last name because he was the only real dad I knew. A year later my mom met Dan and he seemed nice. At first. They got married and my mom had my younger brothers. And then he left one day and said he wouldn't be back. My brothers occasionally get cards for their birthdays but she doesn't cry over them like she used to. A few years later, my mom met Charlie.”

He heard something hard in her tone and he knew this part of the story wasn't going to end well, either. “How old were you?”

“Thirteen.”

Fuck.
He really hoped he didn't know where this story was heading. “What happened?”

“Nothing. At first. He seemed okay. Then my mom had my youngest brother.”

“And?”

“And I was seventeen.”

Every muscle in his body went rigid. “You tell me he touched you and I will pay to make him bleed.”

She shifted again and he felt her lips brush his chest. “He never got the chance. My mom picked up on it right away. He was out the door five seconds later. None of her friends could figure out why my mom had dumped him. Everyone thought he was such a great guy. And she had eight kids and a barely minimum-wage job. I know Mom told a few people. And a few of those people told her she was crazy for kicking him out. He hadn't touched me. Why the hell would she get rid of a decent man who provided for her?”

His arms tightened around her. “Because she loved her daughter.”

“Yeah. I've never doubted that.”

“Sounds like a great lady.”

“She is. One of the best.” A loud yawn seemed to surprise her. “Oh, wow. Sorry. I can't believe how tired I am. I had a nap yesterday. I shouldn't be so sleepy.”

“Maybe I'm just that good at wearing you out.”

Her low laughter made his gut clench and his cock finally slid from her sheath. He wanted to roll her over and start again.

“Hang tight. I'll get a towel.”

“Do you mind if I use the bathroom?”

“No, of course not.”

With a sigh, she shifted, then rolled off the bed and headed for the attached bath.

Turning onto his side, he watched her ass the entire way. Damn, he loved the way that girl was put together.

He wondered if she'd let him take more pictures. A little more risqué this time.

He hadn't been able to delete any of the photos he'd taken of her at the retreat. Just couldn't do it. And he'd spent a little too much time looking at them these past three weeks they'd been apart.

He wanted to take more. Pictures only he would ever see. Would she agree?

He thought he might be able to convince her.

His phone vibrated on the nightstand and he glared at it. He really should pick up the damn thing and start going through his email and texts. Both were probably exploding, even though most of his email went to the general account Trudeau handled. Only a select group had his private email. Still, that probably had a hundred things in it he had to take care of. A few probably needed immediate attention.

He was still running a company, one that needed a strong hand, especially now.

Christ, why the hell had he thought directing a film again would be fun?

“Greg,” she called, “do you mind if I borrow your shirt?”

Yeah, he did. He wanted her to walk back out here naked, so he could watch her. Then he wanted to lay her out on the bed again. “No problem.”

The door opened again and she emerged in the blue button-down he'd tossed on the hook last night.

It reached about mid-thigh and hung loose around her chest, though he could still see the jiggle of her breasts. He really had a thing for her breasts.

She glanced at the clock as she walked toward the bed. As he pulled himself up and sat on the edge of the bed, her eyes tracked his movements. “I really should get on the road to my mom's. Besides, I'm sure you have a lot— Hey!”

He grabbed her hand and yanked her toward him, twisting until he had her on the bed again, trapped under him this time.

She looked so sexy, her hair messy and falling all over the sheets, and her eyes half-lidded and smoky. He bent and kissed her, loving the way she seemed to melt beneath him.

“Stay for another hour.”

Cocking an eyebrow at him, she shook her head. “If I stay another hour, I won't be able to help my mom finish dinner. I told her I'd be there. Besides, I thought you were going to your parents for dinner.”

“We're not eating 'til later.” She hadn't reached for him, her hands palm up on the mattress next to her head. “Put your hands on my shoulders.”

Her nose crinkled in an adorably puzzled expression. “Why?”

“Because I want you to hold on to me while I do this.”

He took her mouth, kissing her hard and deep until she finally put her hands on his shoulders. She clutched at him, opening her mouth to him and kissing him back.

When he finally let her up for air, she blinked up at him after taking a deep breath.

“You know,” she said, “I'm beginning to realize why you have the reputation you do in Hollywood. You don't take no for an answer, do you?”

“Not usually.”

“And do you always get what you want?”

“Usually, yeah.” He sighed. “Look, I know I'm not going to have a lot of free time over the next month. And I know you're busy, too. But I want to see you as much as I can.”

Her smile made his heart pound. He liked it. A lot. And he was glad he hadn't added “while I'm here” to the end of that sentence.

He'd realized years ago that if he didn't tell a woman up front there was a time limit to their affair, she tended to think he meant forever.

Which was how he'd gotten a reputation for being a cold bastard. Daisy had been the only woman who'd stuck around long enough to leave him first.

As if she'd read his mind, her smile disappeared. “My schedule is going to be totally screwed up the next few weeks. I switch between the seven-to-three and the three-to-eleven shifts.”

“What about the overnights like last night? Any more of those?”

“A few, although that could change in a second. Since I'm the newest employee, I'm always the first one who gets asked to take the crappy shifts. And I don't mind, not really. This job is such a great opportunity for me and . . .”

He waited, having some idea what she was about to say.

She sighed. “What should I tell Tyler? I don't like feeling like I'm going behind his back.”

“What we do here has nothing to do with him.”

“He's my boss.”

“He's not your keeper.”

“What happens if I see him in the hall coming to your room? This level is usually off limits to the staff and—”

“You're not working now and you're my guest.” He held up one hand as she opened her mouth to speak again. “I'll talk to Tyler. Tell him if he sees you in the hall to just ignore you, okay?”

She gave him another one of those looks that said she didn't think he was funny. And he wasn't trying to be. For the most part.

“That'll be kind of stupid. It's going to be awkward.”

“Only if you let it.”

He wanted her to say okay, to give in. And when she didn't, he realized he wasn't going to be civilized if she said she didn't want to see him again.

“Bree, do you want to see me again?”

She nodded immediately. “Yeah. I do.”

He smiled and watched her lips part so she could draw in air. Yes, he liked knowing how he affected her. He liked it a hell of a lot. “Then we'll figure it out.”

His phone vibrated again and he knew he couldn't ignore it any longer.

Glaring at the damn thing made it continue to shake. “Shit. I gotta get that. I'll talk to Tyler as soon as possible.” Of course, he'd already talked to Tyler but he wasn't sure he wanted to confess that little conversation just yet. “You're already navigating the boss-friend thing, right? We'll figure this out, too.”

He kissed her again before he rolled away and reached for the phone. Before he could get up, she brushed a hand across his back, holding him in place.

He looked over his shoulder at her. Her half smile made his cock twitch.

“You can text me later, if you have time. I'll be off at eleven. If you're too busy, just let me know. No problem.”

He had a feeling he would never be too tired for her. “I like my shirt on you, hon. Looks good.”

He watched her smile as she took it off then started to dress in her own clothes.

“Then I guess you can keep it for me until next time.”

With one last kiss, she walked out the door.

And his phone buzzed until he wanted to throw it against a wall.

He opened it and started to swear.

Seven

“Sabrina, come have lunch with me and Annabelle. We're going over her dress. Again. Please, please, please. We need a new perspective because we're driving each other crazy.”

Sabrina laughed at the childish air of pleading in Kate's voice as she checked the clock. It was around noon on Saturday and she'd been thinking about doing the wash. Which she hated. “You showed me the last sketch you did last week. I thought that was final.”

“It is. I've already cut the pieces for the practice dress and I even caved on the amount of cleavage she's showing. Personally, I think she should go for more but she said she doesn't want to look like Kim Kardashian at the MTV Video Music Awards. As if I'd ever let her.”

Even though she hadn't had much sleep, Sabrina was still able to laugh at Kate's sarcastic tone.

“She has to pick the fabric so I can order it.
Please
come back me up,” Kate pleaded. “She has to make some hard and fast decisions or I won't have the dress finished for the wedding.”

Annabelle and Jared, Tyler's younger brother, had chosen the first Saturday in April as the date of their wedding. All Kate and Annabelle seemed to talk about now was the dress.

Sabrina and Kate had already chosen their dresses as her bridesmaid and maid of honor. Kate hadn't been thrilled about taking dresses off the rack but she had her hands more than full with Annabelle's dress.

And the way the two women argued about every little nip and tuck, you'd think they hated each other.

“Sure. I'll come. You want to meet in the restaurant?”

“No, let's go out. I'm in the mood to be bad. Crepes at the Terminal Market?”

“Wow. You must be having a bad day.”

“Not bad, just . . . nerves, I guess. I need to get some air.” Kate sighed loud enough to be heard over the phone. “Dress warm. I want to walk. See you in ten.”

Since she was already dressed in jeans and a sweater, Sabrina didn't have to do anything more than grab her coat and purse. She wasn't scheduled to work until seven tonight. She was taking a half shift until eleven for Darryl, whose son had a music recital at school.

She hadn't heard from Greg since late Thursday, when he'd texted her to let her know he was staying at his parents' house for the night and wouldn't be able to see her but he'd text her Friday.

She'd texted him back.
No problem. I understand.

And she had. Honestly. She loved her family.

Friday morning, he'd told her he was going to be busy all day but he'd be back at the hotel late Friday.

No problem. I understand.

Only, he hadn't been back last night. And he hadn't texted.

Frankly, she wondered if she was ever going to see him again. Yes, she'd known he wasn't going to have much time the closer he got to the start of filming. But she'd hoped . . .

What exactly had she hoped for?

Maybe she didn't want to look at that question too closely.

Taking the elevator to the lobby, she waved at Danica behind the desk—and stopped cold when she realized who Casey was smiling at farther down.

Greg.

He had his back to her but she could clearly see Casey beaming at him. Almost as if he were flirting with her.

No, no, no. Don't even go there.

Still, she couldn't contain the pain jabbing at her gut like a knife.

Turning on her heel, she headed for the front door. She'd wait for Annabelle and Kate outside. The fresh air would do her good.

And maybe help her stomach stop churning.

She walked through the door, gave a smile and a wave to Charlie, the white-haired grandfather who manned the door most days, then headed for the front of the building, which had been built far enough from the street to allow for a tiny courtyard.

A row of boxwoods hid the area from the street but still allowed a view of the hotel's front door. Two ornate marble benches formed an “L” in one corner of the courtyard. A small bronze fountain sat in another. And a little garden bloomed all year long in the last corner. In the summer, it held bright flowers. Now it was filled with tiny evergreen trees waiting for their Christmas decorations.

She was just about to sit when she realized someone was behind her.

“Sabrina. Wait.”

Greg.

She took a second to suck in a breath and put on a smile. Then she turned.

She couldn't hold the smile because the look he gave her practically burned through her skin.

Swallowing, she managed a quiet “Hi” before she lowered herself onto the marble. The cold from the stone seeped through her jeans but she didn't get up. She needed that shock to keep from throwing herself at him.

“Hey.” He stopped in front of her, standing with his hands on his hips. “Are you going somewhere?”

“Lunch with Kate and Annabelle.” She actually thought about offering to cancel if he wanted to spend time with her but swallowed the words before they escaped. She didn't want to sound pathetic and chances were he didn't have the time. Which he confirmed in seconds.

“Wish I could ask you to bag them and have lunch with me but I've got another meeting in half an hour.”

“No problem. I understand.”

He grimaced and she realized she'd said exactly that the couple of times he'd texted her about his schedule. “Yeah. I guess I deserve that.”

“I'm sorry,” she said. “I didn't mean . . . That wasn't a—”

Seconds later, she found herself sitting on his lap, his thighs warm and hard beneath hers, her mouth covered by his lips. Sinking fast toward combustion. Whenever they kissed, combustion wasn't far behind.

Greg launched a full-out erotic assault on her mouth, heat and hunger radiating off him. She wanted to shove her hands beneath his battered leather bomber jacket and rip his shirt out of his slacks so she could put her hands on his bare flesh.

Instead, she grabbed the front of his jacket and held on.

Too soon, he pulled back, breathing hard enough that she saw little white puffs in the air between them.

“Damn, I've fucking missed you.”

She shook her head, her lips curving at his raw words and her heart skipping a beat at the force behind them. “Hi to you, too. And it's been less than two days since you saw me.”

His husky laugh made her tingle between her legs, where she'd been aching since the last time she'd seen him, and his eyes peered into hers with that intensity she'd come to crave. No one had ever looked at her like he did, like he wanted to see
into
her.

“You are just hell on my ego. Here I've been, wanting to get you back in my bed since the moment you walked out my door Thursday morning. Sorry about Thursday night. I had an emergency to deal with and I was late getting to my parents' house so I stayed the night to spend a little time with them Friday morning. Then yesterday . . .” He shook his head. “Did you have a good time with your brothers and sisters?”

She nodded, her smile wistful. “Yeah, I did. But is it wrong to say I was kind of glad I had to work Thursday night? I forgot how
loud
all those kids can be in one house.”

Laughing, he pressed a kiss to her neck. “I totally understand. I love my sister's kids but they're a hell of a lot of work.”

“How old are they?”

He paused, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “Eight, six, and four. I think. Damn, I'm a shitty uncle. I'm not honestly sure how old they are.”

“I'm sure they love you.”

“Yeah, they love me. Especially when I bring them videogames that won't be on the market for months. So, you work tonight?”

“Yes. Until eleven.”

He pressed another kiss to her neck, this one longer. And then she felt his teeth graze her skin. The shiver that went through her body had nothing to do with the air temperature.

“Then be at my door by 11:02. I think I may have actually cleared a little time in my schedule to sleep. And other things that require a bed.”

This time, he kissed her on the mouth, his arms tightening around her.

Unable to worry about anyone from the hotel seeing them because, at this minute, she didn't really care, she wriggled on his lap, earning a smack on the ass that energized all of her nerve endings.

“Keep that for tonight. Right now I've got to deal with a depressed canine and a pissed-off fire marshal. Then I've got a read-through with Neal and Daisy and a meeting with the crew.”

“So what you really want to do tonight is sleep.”

He leaned closer, rubbing his nose against hers in an affectionate way that made her melt inside. “After I get inside you. I thought I said that.
Shit.
” His coat vibrated beneath her hands and she realized his phone was ringing.

With a rough sigh, he kissed her again. “Gotta go, babe. See you tonight.”

Seconds later, he was gone.

And she was sitting on the marble bench again, the cold seeping through her jeans. While her internal temperature continued to hover right below boiling.

She blinked and caught sight of him grabbing for the front door and holding it open for Kate and Annabelle to walk through. They stopped for a second, Greg giving Annabelle's shoulder a squeeze as he bent to kiss Kate on the cheek. Then he nodded in Sabrina's direction before continuing into the hotel as Kate and Annabelle made a beeline for her.

Kate's raised eyebrows and Annabelle's smile made her want to groan.

Standing, she walked to meet the other women, who flanked her as soon as she got close to them. Each took an arm and they started walking in the direction of the Reading Terminal Market.

“So.” Kate gave her a wicked smile. “I guess we have something more than Annabelle's dress to discuss.”

*  *

Trudeau met him just inside the door, tablet in hand, stylus tapping away.

“I have several forms you need to sign, two phone calls you need to return, a budget to approve, and I sent the emails you need to handle personally to your private account. And you've got to decide on a composer because I need to get started on those contracts.”

Falling into step beside him as he headed for the elevator, his assistant barely came up to his shoulder. This morning, she wore blue pants, a white blouse, and had her hair pulled back in a high ponytail that bounced in a perfect curl.

“I've managed to put off most of the local press for the moment,” she continued as they crossed the lobby, “but they're not going to leave you alone for much longer. We've got requests for interviews from every TV station, cable access show, daily local, weekly tabloid, regional magazine, and merchandiser in a three-hundred-mile radius. By the way, what is a merchandiser?”

The elevator doors opened seconds after he punched the button and he stepped aside to let the older couple inside exit.

He'd been listening with half an ear to Trudeau, knowing she wouldn't let him forget anything. The rest of his brain was back with Sabrina.

Stepping into the elevator, he leaned against the back wall, willing away the stiffness in his cock and the clench in his jaw.

He shouldn't have followed her out of the hotel but, like a fucking teenager, he'd let his cock dictate his actions. Now he was going to pay for it the rest of the fucking day.

He was going to be beyond busy for the next thirty days. He'd barely have time to eat and catch a few hours of sleep.

He needed all of his concentration on his film, but thoughts of her managed to sneak into his head every few minutes. Through no fault of hers, she was fucking with his head.

That was going to be a major problem if he couldn't keep a lid on it. A problem he'd never encountered before. Which just pissed him off.

Maybe if he fucked her at least once a day, he could keep his focus where it had to be. On the film.

As the elevator began to rise, Trudeau went silent.

“Greg? Are you okay? Do you need something?”

Turning, Greg realized she looked worried. “Like what?”

Trudeau shrugged, the action so uncommon, his attention focused more fully on her. “I'm not sure. You seem distracted. It's a bit . . . alarming.”

He laughed, a short bark she'd surprised out of him. “Alarming, huh? I thought nothing could rattle you.”

Her lips pursed in a way his mother would be proud of. “I work hard at cultivating that image. Keeps the jackals at bay.”

“And by jackals you mean . . .”

“Anyone who wants something. And they all want something, don't they?”

His eyebrows raised. “Well, damn. So jaded already. Something happen I didn't get a memo on?”

She shrugged, her gaze never wavering. “Nothing you need to concern yourself about.”

And that's what he paid her for. To make sure the little shit didn't get to him. He'd never stopped to think how much of a toll it might be taking on Trudeau.

Hollywood assistants burned out faster than social workers. Trudeau had been with him for almost three years. She'd never asked for a raise, although he gave her one annually. And her workload had increased exponentially the second he'd decided to direct this film. He'd already told her she was getting an associate producer credit and she deserved it.