Overnight Sensation (20 page)

He wanted to possess her, take her fiercely and endlessly. Leave her in absolutely no doubt about whose arms she belonged in. Only with supreme effort had he kept his hands shoved firmly in his pockets and relaxed indifference in his posture as he’d watched her walk toward the dressing rooms.

When she returned less than ten minutes later, she had on the same sundress she’d worn the first night she’d come out to his cabin. She carried an oversize tote over one shoulder and her face still bore the remnants of makeup from her shoot. But as she drew closer, he saw that the tender skin of her neck and jaw was red and abraded from whisker burn. Terrell’s whiskers.

The sight was enough to snap the vestiges of his self-control. Not caring who saw them or what they might think, he caught Ivy’s arm and propelled her toward the door.

“Whoa, where’s the fire?” she asked, laughing.

They were outside now, and without answering, Garrett pushed her up against the wall, thrusting his fingers into the silken warmth of her hair as he devoured her with his eyes.

She stared up at him, her eyes questioning, before her gaze fell to his mouth. As if unable to help herself, she let out a soft sigh and her lips parted, as if anticipating his kiss. But he didn’t kiss her.

Not yet.

“Jesus, Ivy,” he muttered, fastening his attention on her mouth as he smoothed a thumb over her lower lip. “I saw Terrell kissing you and I wanted to kill the son of a bitch.”

Her eyes widened momentarily at his words. “Trust me when I say that it was all an act. In fact,” she confessed, “I was thinking of you when we did that scene. I just closed my eyes and pretended I was in your arms—”

“It was a little too realistic for me,” Garrett growled. “Finn might have to change the film rating given how realistic that last scene was.”

To his amazement, she smiled. “Why does that sound like a good thing?”

Garrett groaned. “Good for you, maybe, but sheer hell for me. That was the last shoot where you have to get naked with Terrell, right?”

Her smile deepened. “This is your story. You tell me.”

IVY WATCHED, MESMERIZED , as Garrett’s eyes darkened. He made a low sound of frustration and hauled her in against his body, surrounding her with his warmth, hardness and scent, before covering her mouth with his own.

The kiss was primal, designed to possess and dominate. Ivy welcomed it, even encouraged it by winding her arms around his neck and meeting the fierceness with unabashed enthusiasm. She didn’t deny that the love scene with Eric had left her aroused, but it couldn’t compare with what this man did to her with his touch. Need, hot and greedy, spiraled through her. Beneath the thin fabric of the sundress, her breasts tightened and a familiar ache blossomed between her thighs. She was vaguely aware she and Garrett were outside, where anyone might view them, but she didn’t care.

She still couldn’t believe he was here. Despite the fact that not even a full day had passed since she’d last been with him, she’d missed him. She’d all but given up on seeing him on the set. Of seeing him again at all. Sure, he’d said he wanted the full three days they’d agreed to, but Ivy had figured that was just talk.

She’d never been so glad to be wrong.

Knowing that he’d watched her with Eric Terrell caused a naughty thrill to course through her. What had he thought of her performance? Had it turned him on? She’d tried so hard to capture the essence of what she’d shared with Garrett—the urgency and the tenderness and the overwhelming desire. Had she succeeded?

Voices drifted toward them from just inside the warehouse, and Ivy realized somebody was approaching. In another second, she and Garrett would be discovered. She had to put some distance between them.

She dragged her mouth from his, her breathing uneven. “We can’t do this…not here.”

Garrett lifted his head. He appeared dazed, as if he’d forgotten where they were.

“Right,” he muttered. “C’mon.”

Before she could protest, he was leading her along the path from the warehouse to an adjacent field that doubled as a parking lot. Dusk had fallen as they made their way to the back of the field. No one else was around, and the air was fragrant with the scent of hibiscus. A dozen or so vehicles were parked haphazardly on the grass, including the Jeep that Garrett had driven that first day she’d arrived in Pancho Viejo.

He opened the door to the vehicle, but when she hitched her skirt up to climb in, he halted her.

“Ivy.”

She looked up and was trapped in the intensity of his gaze. Instead of handing her up into the passenger seat, he pressed her against the side of the Jeep, imprisoning her with his own body. “I’m sorry, babe,” he growled, “but I can’t wait another second.”

He encircled her face with his large palms and slanted his lips across hers in a kiss that rocked her all the way down to her toes. She sighed into his mouth and arched against him, all thoughts of maintaining any distance from him completely gone. If she had her way, there would be absolutely nothing between them. Desire curled through her as he deepened the kiss, tangling his tongue with hers and feasting on her lips.

Oh, God. If he didn’t stop, she was going to haul him into the Jeep and beg him to make love to her right then and there. She dragged her mouth from his, breathless.

“Please,” she panted.

He cupped her face and his fingers massaged the tender skin behind her ears. His eyes glowed as he regarded her. “Please…what?” His voice was husky.

Ivy swallowed. “Please don’t, because if not, I won’t be responsible for my actions.”

His smile broadened, and he dropped his forehead to hers. “Sounds tempting. I think I have a blanket or two in the back, and I know a little place about two minutes from here where the stargazing is phenomenal.” His voice was languid and full of promise.

Ivy’s body responded instantly, liquid heat pooling in her center. Her breasts ached where they were pressed against his chest. She wondered briefly if becoming addicted to someone’s touch was possible. She didn’t want to wait. She wanted him, and she wanted him now.

“Let’s just drive,” she whispered, pulling his head down, “and see where we end up.” Her eyes fluttered closed, and then his tongue was in her mouth again as he flattened her against the side of the Jeep and devoured her.

He tore his mouth from hers. “Jesus. Let’s get out of here before I do something lewd in a public place.”

He helped her into the cab and popped a cassette into the stereo. Soft music filled the interior of the Jeep as he maneuvered the vehicle out of the field and onto the rutted dirt road that led back to the hacienda. He glanced over at her. “We’ll be at the hacienda in less than ten minutes.”

It was all Ivy could do not to groan her frustration.

His hand settled on her leg, warm and sure, and then he was pushing back the hem of her sundress and skating his palm over the smooth skin of her bare thigh. Ivy caught her breath, and, when he would have explored further, stopped him with her hand on his. She stared at him, half hopeful and half uncertain in the dim light.

“Trust me.” The glance he gave her was at once so heated and tender that she loosed her grip on him, although she kept her fingers over his. “Now, sit back and pull your skirt up. That’s it.”

“I don’t recall this being in the script,” she said, her voice husky, even as she obeyed him.

“Screw the script,” he declared, his eyes hot as they locked onto her. “We’re writing our own scenes from here on.”

Ivy could scarcely believe she was doing as he asked, hiking her skirt up over hips so that her entire lower half was exposed but for the scrap of lace that was her panties. She was pulsing with need. Just looking at Garrett as he watched her was enough for her to become slick with desire. His gaze on her was as palpable as a caress.

He drew in a hissing breath as his eyes traveled down the length of her, and his hand stroked upward from her knee to the apex of her thighs.

“Open for me,” he commanded quietly.

“Garrett…”

“Please, sweetheart. I have to touch you.”

His voice was gruff with need, and with a groan that was half mortification, half anticipation, Ivy let her thighs fall apart. And then there was no more room for coherent thought as he cupped her through the damp material of her panties. She gasped and her hips arched against his palm. When he pushed the scrap of fabric aside and caressed her intimately, she mewled in pleasure.

“That’s it,” he murmured approvingly, and slid a finger into her slick heat.

Ivy’s head fell back against the seat as his hand worked its magic, pushing her and teasing her. She was only vaguely aware of the thick forest and dense overhead canopy flying past the windows of the Jeep. She knew she should tell him to slow down, but she wanted him to go faster; didn’t want to wait a second longer than she had to, to feel him inside her. His fingers were sliding over her flesh, and she was close to flying apart. With the last vestiges of rational thought, she gripped his wrist and forced him to halt.

“Please,” she gasped, “I don’t want to…until you can come with me.”

GARRETT, ALREADY INTENSELY aroused, felt himself swell even more at her words. He tore his attention from the road and stared at her for the briefest of seconds, taking in her flushed features and glazed eyes. The Jeep surged as he leaned even harder on the accelerator, and then, thank God, the turnoff that led to the hacienda appeared. He didn’t pull into the circular drive that led to the entrance, however. He veered off the main drive and onto a deeply rutted dirt path. He skirted the property and they bounced through a heavily forested section of jungle before the trees cleared and the workers’cabins came into view.

The Jeep barely skidded to a full stop behind his own casita before he leaped out. He didn’t even give Ivy time to adjust her clothing before he tore open her door and hauled her into his arms. With a gasp, she flung her arms around his shoulders and clung for dear life. He kicked the door of the truck closed and carried her into the cabin.

Inside, he pushed her up against the wall, letting her legs slide to the floor. Her eyes were wide as she stared up him, her lips slightly parted. With a groan, he bent his head and claimed her lips. He thrust his hands into the mass of her hair, reveling in the silken texture of the tight curls and how they clung to his fingers.

Jesus, she felt so good in his arms. She still hung on to him; only now her fingers were stroking the back of his neck. He was pressed against her from shoulder to knee; knew she could feel his arousal against her belly. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been this turned on. Well, okay, that wasn’t true. Yesterday probably ran a close tie. Christ, he couldn’t get enough of her. She felt so good beneath his hands.

With a rough sound of need, he grasped her buttocks, raising her and pressing himself into the soft cradle of her hips. To his delight, she responded by pushing her hands beneath his shirt and smoothing her palms over his skin, touching every part of him she could get to. He groaned at the sensation of her cool fingers against his heated flesh.

“Garrett,” she whispered against his lips, “please…”

“This is real,” he muttered against her lips, wanting to make sure she understood. “The other stuff—the scene with Terrell—that was all just make-believe. This is real. Tell me you know this is real.”

“This is real,” she repeated raggedly. “I know the difference.”

“Do you?”

“Yes,” she gasped. “Please…”

He lifted her higher against the wall, then fumbled beneath her silk-clad bottom to awkwardly work the snap on his jeans. All he could think about was being inside her, being part of her. She’d occupied his mind every moment since he’d left her at the hacienda the night before. He hadn’t slept. He hadn’t given a thought to the film, or his own responsibilities to it. He’d been consumed with thoughts of Ivy.

Of being with her again.

He’d hated watching her with Eric Terrell. Not only because he suspected the other man was enjoying the scene way too much, but because he already considered Ivy his own.

He slanted his mouth hard across hers, wanting to possess her completely. With one hand beneath her, he worked his wallet free from his back pocket with his other hand, then flipped it open and located the condom he’d put there just that morning. Dropping the wallet onto the floor, he tore the small packet open with his teeth, his eyes never leaving Ivy’s. One hand still supporting her bottom, he freed himself, pushed his briefs and pants down and out of the way, then rolled the sheath over his erection.

His bad leg protested the strain of supporting Ivy, but he scarcely noticed. She moaned as he pressed, hard and hot, against the most intimate part of her. He had no problem sliding a hand between their straining bodies and tearing aside the minuscule scrap of lace that covered her, and then, sweet, blessed Mary, he was pushing himself into her welcoming moistness.

She gasped in pleasure and raised her legs higher, wrapping them around his hips even as she met the thrusts of his tongue against hers with equal fervor. God, she felt incredible, all slick heat and pulsating tightness. He grasped her silken buttocks in his hands and thrust himself into her, knowing he wasn’t being gentle, but beyond the point where he could restrain himself.