Star Struck (12 page)

He bent closer but stopped just inches from her mouth. “Frankly, princess, I’m frustrated now for other reasons too. I gave you my number. You thought you could be pregnant. Why didn’t you call me?”

She had no idea how to answer, her brain barely working with him so close to her. She struggled to form words. “I…don’t know.”

“Because you’re stubborn, that’s why.” He circled her nose with his own. “Maddeningly stubborn. You know what I think might help cure you of that?”

“What?” It came out as a whisper, anticipation stealing her voice.

“A good old-fashioned spanking.”

Chapter Eight

A spanking? Seth couldn’t be serious. How dare he patronize her like that? Like she was an insolent child.

Yet, at the same time, the thought wasn’t unappealing. In fact, a warm pool of moisture had gathered between Heather’s legs and her heart pounded loudly against her ribcage. Her sudden increase in desire had her tongue-tied and shaking.

“Bend over the table.”

Seth’s rough command didn’t irk her as it should have. Instead, she found herself moving to the round dining area as if under a trance, and bending over with her rump in the air.

“That’s my girl.” She gasped as she felt his warm touch on the back of her bare thighs. His hands snaked up her legs under the hem of her short robe until they cupped the cheeks of her behind. “Stretch your arms out and grab the other side of the table.”

She did as he said, her robe pulling up farther as she stretched her body across the table. His fingers curled under the band of her bikini panties and pulled them down. Then he flung the bottom of her robe up around her waist so that she was completely exposed.

He inhaled on a hiss, running his strong hands over her bare skin. “Fuck, Heather, your ass is gorgeous. I could spend hours with you in this position alone.”

Her stomach twisted in excitement.

Then she panicked.

Her heart thudded wildly in her chest, her hands felt clammy as they gripped the table. She barely knew the man who had her in this very vulnerable position. Though he really hadn’t taken advantage of her while she’d been drunk, that didn’t mean he couldn’t now. What would he do to her if she let him? And could she even stop him if she wanted to?

“Seth…” she called out to him, not knowing how to express her sudden anxiety. She hated this feeling of uncertainty. Especially when it was mixed with piercing pangs of yearning. She was a mess—bewildered and out-of-control. She didn’t know what to do to make it go away, how to calm down. All she knew was that she didn’t want Seth to stop.

As if reading the volumes she spoke in the single utterance of his name, he assured her with a husky voice. “I’m going to give you what you need. Let go and give in. Trust me, princess.”

That was all she needed. Permission.

She sighed and rested her head down on the table in front of her, allowing herself to relax under his strong hands as they massaged her cheeks. She did trust him. Incredibly, insanely—stupidly, perhaps—she trusted him implicitly. Even more, she wanted whatever he planned to give her. Suspected he might fulfill her in ways that she’d never been fulfilled before.

The first strike came without warning. She let out a cry as the palm of his hand smacked across her tender skin, her eyes blurring from the pain. Immediately, he followed by gently kneading the area until the burn turned into overwhelming pleasure. Oh God, the contrast—the sting then the soothing touch that came after. Like sweet and sour all at once. Like soaking in a steamy hot tub in ice cold weather. Like nothing she’d ever experienced. The sensation was incredible.

And incredibly hot. She was drenched with desire.

He struck a second time, on the opposite cheek, and this time as he rubbed away the pain, she moaned. He repeated the pattern, striking and kneading, burning then soothing her until her knees were so weak that she wouldn’t have been able to stand without the support of the table under her.

“That’s enough, I think,” he said after the sixth strike, and she bit back the urge to cry out again in both relief and disappointment. His hands continued to caress away the last of the sting, leaving no spot on her backside untouched. She’d never been touched like that—with such force and care all at the same time.

Her body had completely relaxed when one of Seth’s hands journeyed lower, past the curve of her behind to the slick opening between her thighs. He groaned. “I think you liked that almost as much as I did. You’re dripping wet.” He slipped his fingers through her folds to the taut bud of nerves hidden within. Applying perfect pressure, he circled the spot with his thumb, teasing her to the brink of orgasm. “You know what this means, don’t you?”

She could barely concentrate. “What?” She had no idea what anything meant anymore. All she knew was an intense ache of need. A need that only Seth could fill.

“You have to make a decision now.” He continued to massage her nub and she bucked her body against his hand, wanting more, more, more. The light in the trailer seemed dimmer. She was close, so close.

“Do you want me to go?” Seth asked. “Or do you want me to stay? If I stay, I’ll fuck you, and you’ll remember it. You have to decide.”

She’d have to decide? She felt like she’d already conceded all her power to the man behind her, and now he was saying the decision was hers? A tiny voice in the back of her brain reminded her that letting him stay would erase all the distance she’d put between her and her past.

But the hum of her body, still singing from his hands on her behind and so on the verge of climax, drowned out the sound of resistance.

It also made speaking impossible.

“Heather, I’ll give you whichever you want but you have to tell me. Go or stay?”

“I…I…” Why couldn’t she just say it? Yes, she was distracted with pleasure. But also, he had been right—she was maddeningly stubborn. Not even allowing herself to give into what she so desired.

“If you can’t say it, I can’t stay.” Seth pulled away, the sudden departure of his hands leaving her pussy throbbing.

“Don’t go!” It was a desperate cry, a sound she didn’t even recognize as her own.

Seth returned to his position over her, his hand finding its way back to her core. He pressed himself against her back, covering her body with his, the hard length of his cock digging into her hip. His breath, hot at her ear, sent a shiver down her spine. “What is it you want, Heather? Ask me.”

“I want you to fuck me.” She said it. The words tumbled out of her mouth as though they could no longer be contained inside her, and with them came her climax crashing through her with acute ferocity.

“You have no idea what hearing you say that does to me.”

While she trembled through the remainder of her orgasm, she heard his zipper then the distinct sound of a condom wrapper being torn. He had a fucking condom. Thank the fucking Lord.

She was still inwardly praising the miraculous invention of prophylactics and that Seth had one with him when he plunged inside her. “Oh God!” she screamed. Jesus, was the man hung or what? Because she hadn’t yet gotten a peek at the goods, but damn, did he fill her. Filled her so full, she felt like all her nerve endings would combust from the simultaneous pressure.

And that was only on the first thrust.

He pulled out, almost to the tip, and she thought she might die from the loss of him. Then he plunged in again.

“Fuck, Heather,” he groaned and she was right there with him, lost in the amazingness of sensation.

He picked up his tempo, moving in and out with deep thrusts, their thighs slapping together as he rocked into her, the table jabbing into her legs with a surprisingly pleasing bite. And still she wanted him deeper. She lifted onto her tiptoes to meet his thrusts and that did the trick. Before she knew it, she was on the verge of a second orgasm. This one came on slower, but held as much strength. It rolled through her in big, wide waves, weakening her with pleasure.

As she seized with delight, Seth found his own release. He let out a near-feral grunt as he shoved into her, his fingers digging into her hips.

“Ah, Heather, that was…incredible. You were incredible.” He bent over her and kissed the back of her head. Then he pulled out and she heard him dispose the condom, then zip up his jeans while she still lay limp and boneless across the table. Little by little, her vision cleared and her heartbeat settled and sense began to return. With its return came something else—a dark feeling that she couldn’t name. Shame? Regret? Fear? It left her cold, despite the flush in her skin.

Standing, she kicked her panties off her ankles and pulled down her robe. Though she wouldn’t look at him directly, she saw out of the corner of her eye that Seth had returned to leaning against the counter. She could hear his breathing as it calmed to a normal rate.

“Let me clean you up,” he offered.

It was a nice gesture, but she was too cold for niceties. She just wanted to be alone so she could sort out her emotions. “No, that’s okay. I’m taking a shower.” Her tone was hard and guarded. Purposefully.

“Hey, Heather.” Seth reached out, pulling her to him. “Are you okay?”

She shrugged out of his arms and moved out of his reach. “Of course I am.”

“Are you sure?”

“I said I’m fine.” She wasn’t though. Not at all. Spankings and rough sex, and she’d liked them both. That was enough to confound her, but then add that it was with a guy that she’d never meant to get mixed up with. What did that make her? A whore? A hypocrite? Kink was fine and all, but with Seth… She couldn’t even be seen with him. He was blue-collar. He was not the kind of guy she planned to be with. Above it all, her father’s accusations ran through her head twisting and morphing until it was her own voice.
You’re trash. Nothing but trash. All you’ll ever be is trash.

Heather could feel Seth’s eyes on her as she gathered her panties and put them in her laundry basket. She wanted to know what he was thinking, but at the same time was glad she didn’t.

“Ah,” he said finally. “I see.”

“What?” She spun to face him, her hands planted on her hips so he couldn’t see them shaking. “What do you see? What? There is nothing to see so what could possibly make you say you see anything at all? Nothing. That’s what. Nothing at all.”

“Uh huh.”

As if he understood. How could he possibly when she didn’t? “What? Just say whatever it is you want to say.” She folded her arms across her chest and waited.

“Just the minute you had enough blood in the brain to remember yourself, you put yourself back out of reach.”

“Whatever.” She was being a total bitch, but she didn’t know how else to be right then. She just wanted the cold, dark feelings to end, and as much as she wondered if they’d stop if she let herself fall into Seth’s arms, she was too scared to find out.

“See. Look at yourself. Even your body language says you’re closed off. Which is insane because I gave you the chance to kick me out. You didn’t. It would make sense if I had hurt you …” His face screwed up in concern. “Did I hurt you, Heather?”

“No.” Well, the spanking had burned, but it also felt really good.

“Did it bother you that I spanked you?”

She hesitated. “No.” It bothered her that she liked it. Bothered her a lot.

“Did you want me to stay?”

“Yes.”

“But now you want me to go.”

She swallowed then looked up to meet his eyes. She didn’t want him to go, not really. But she was maddeningly stubborn. “Yes,” she said. “I want you to go.”

“Typical.” He let out a brief laugh of frustration. “Fine. As you so command, princess.” He bent his body in a mock bow, opened the trailer door and left.

With his departure, the cold, dark feeling grew worse. The tears that streamed down her cheeks felt like ice. Even after several long minutes under a hot shower, she shivered uncontrollably and wondered if she’d ever feel warmth again.

By the time Heather dragged herself out of her shower and wrapped a towel around her wet body, Lexie was waiting for her on the trailer’s double bed, her feet curled underneath her as she played Angry Birds on her smartphone.

“I was beginning to think you’d never come out,” Lexie said, closing her phone before she stashed it in her purse. “You must be all pruney by…hey!” She jumped up at the sight of Heather and put a hand on each of her upper arms. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Heather was not in the mood to talk about what happened with Seth. Or maybe she was, but she seriously suspected she’d overreacted, and talking about it sounded like a whole lot of embarrassing.

“Bullshit. You’ve been crying.”

“I’ve been in the shower, how could you know that?” Her assistant had some sort of eerie sixth sense. With a sigh, Heather realized if she didn’t fess up, Lexie would drag it out of her. “Yes, I’ve been crying.”

Lexie rubbed Heather’s arms, a comforting gesture. “Why?”

“Seth. The carpenter.” Goose bumps formed on Heather’s skin and she didn’t know if it was from the chill after the hot shower or if it was from talking about Seth. Maybe she should throw some clothes on. She headed to the closet, saying over her shoulder, “We had sex.”

“And you might be pregnant. I know.”