Star Struck (15 page)

His release snuck up on him, but not too fast that he couldn’t warn her. “I’m about to come,” he managed through gritted teeth. “You need to decide how you want to handle that.” Not removing his hands from her head, he loosened his grip so that she could pull away if she didn’t want him coming in her mouth.

She didn’t move. Instead her eyes peered up at him and he knew then that she’d swallow. Not just that she’d swallow, but that she was looking forward to it. That was all it took to push him over the edge. With a final thrust, he pressed inside her, spilling his seed into her mouth with a groan.

She licked him clean, rocking with him until he was completely finished.

Man, but if she wasn’t the most amazing woman he’d met in years.

After tucking himself back into his jeans, he held his hand out to help Heather to a standing position. He kissed her deeply, like he’d been longing to, showing her his gratitude, his appreciation. His amazement at discovering the woman he thought he had totally figured out was actually so much more.

Chapter Ten

“Your turn,” Seth said against Heather’s mouth, his fingers stroking the skin just above the top of her jeans.

She kissed him once more. Then pulled away, moving out of his arms. For half a second he wondered if she was freaking out again, but then she smiled. “Don’t worry about it, tool boy.”

“I’m not worried. I want to.” And man, did he. Watching Heather come—there was nothing like it. “And tool boy? I assure you, I’m no boy.”

“Oh, I know.” He could hear the grin in her voice, even though she faced away. “But really, it’s not necessary. It’s good for me to do something unselfish every now and then.”

“Well, that’s certainly true.”

She peered over her shoulder with narrowed eyes. “Ha ha.”

“But trust me when I say that going down on you is not a chore.”

Her cheeks colored. “Good to know.”

He followed her to the set’s living room, planting himself in a doorway as he watched her mosey around the space. She wandered to the back of the couch and trailed her hand along the back of the furniture piece. “You know,” she said, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, “another week and we won’t need condoms. Assuming you’re clean.”

“I am.” He missed her touch already, but what she was saying made up for its absence. He strode toward her, stopping at the end of the sofa. “So we’re planning to have sex again?”

She shrugged. “I’m just saying that if we did then we’d be safe.” She circled the other end of the couch to face him. “Of course, first I’m going to have my period, so we’d have to wait past that.”

“I’m not afraid of blood.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

He hated having the couch between them, but even more than the physical barrier, he hated the unspoken circumstances of their last sexual encounter. It had to be cleared up before they could move on. Otherwise, he’d be walking on eggshells with her. And he was not a walking on eggshells type. “If we did end up fucking again, how can I be sure you aren’t going to freak out?”

“How can I be sure you aren’t going to jump in bed with Bobblehead?”

His brow furrowed. “Bobblehead?” She had to be talking about her costar. Bobblehead actually fit the eager-to-please woman. To be sure, he asked, “You mean Natalia?” There was that jealous blaze in Heather’s features again. It warmed him to see it. Yet he couldn’t stand that Heather thought the little wisp of an actress had anything on her. There was no one who compared to her. Certainly not for him. “Let me assure you, I have zero interest in Nat.”

“Nat,” she said under her breath like a curse word. “You were sure giving her your attention. And not just tonight.”

She’d been watching him. Good. Yes, he’d spent time with Natalia the last several days, but it was always she who had sought him out. He didn’t give her any reason not to, though. Maybe he’d been trying to stir Heather up.

He repeated his last words. “Zero interest in Nat.” She scowled, not satisfied. “Would you be happier if I told that to her?”

“I would.”

“Done.” He was making a commitment to her with that agreement. Normally that would have his stomach churning. Instead, he felt oddly relaxed.

But he wasn’t the only one who needed to give assurances. She hadn’t yet answered his question. “Are you going to freak out on me again?”

She shifted from one foot to another. “I don’t know.” She turned away, this time going to examine the prop photos on the wall. “I’m not sure myself, really. I don’t think I will. Did you always want to be a carpenter?” Her voice lilted up with the abrupt subject change. “Or work on movies?”

“Not exactly. And yes.” He didn’t want to talk about that. First of all, it reminded him he was lying to her. Second, the topic she was avoiding was the one that interested him. “Maybe it would help if you told me what set you off. When you freaked out, I mean.”

“Maybe.” But she jumped right back to the lighter conversation. Lighter for her, anyway. “Then if not a carpenter, what would you want to do?”

“Design.” He tried not to flinch as he said it, barreling into his next question for her. “Was it the sex itself?” He hoped not. Just remembering her bent over her dining table as he pounded into her made him hard again.

“No, it wasn’t the sex. Design? Like set design?”

“Production Design.” This was his opportunity. He could tell her the truth—that he already worked in design, that he was good at it. It was understandable why he hadn’t said anything before. He’d tell her he hadn’t wanted the cast of the plays to know. Then it just never came up. He could say he took the job on her film simply as a favor to a friend. He could even tell her that part of the appeal was that she’d be there.

But even though they’d jumped some hurdles in their relationship, or whatever it was they had, he remembered why he lied in the first place. Because he wanted her to want him even if he was the person that she thought he was—a set carpenter. Because that was who he used to be. That was where he came from. He was proud of that. If she couldn’t accept him as that guy, then there was no future between them, just like there had been no future with him and Erica.

Huh. That was weird. He hadn’t been thinking about Heather in terms of long lasting, but now that he had, it didn’t sound half-bad.

So he let the opportunity pass, and turned the truth time back on her. “Did it bother you that we barely know each other?”

“Not that.” She shook her head to emphasize her answer. “Production Design’s pretty ambi—”

“Then the spanking,” he interrupted, focused on getting to the bottom of her freak-out. Focused on not discussing what he did for a living.

She took a deep breath in and then let it out.

Bingo
. It was the spanking that had bothered her. “You liked it though—your body did anyway.” He took a step toward her and stopped when she took a step away. “But not your head. What’s up with your head, Heather?”

“It’s just…” She lowered her eyes. “I can’t. Seriously, I can’t talk about this.”

He wanted to push her. Partly because he thought he understood, but also because he was pretty certain she’d feel better if she talked about it.

But after all the progress they’d made, he wasn’t about ready to scare her off. Instead he asked, “So if I were to spank you again…”

She turned toward him, a shy smile spreading across her face. “I would like it.” Then her smile faded. “Are you planning to spank me now?”

“No.” He laughed. Now that she’d mentioned it, he was sorely tempted. “You probably deserve it. For being a bitch last time and not talking to me about what was really going on.”

“I suppose I have that coming.” She met his eyes, holding his gaze with such steadiness he wondered what she saw when looking at him. A guy who worked with his hands. Who didn’t measure up. Who didn’t fit the mold of her perfect fairytale life.

Or maybe she saw what he hoped she could see. A like soul. Someone who made her face her bullshit, but didn’t leave her alone to do it. A guy who could take care of her but never make her feel weak while doing it.

Or could she see the guy who was keeping secrets from her while demanding she be open about hers?

Without any warning, she ran to him, burying her head into his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Seth. This is hard for me.”

He wrapped his arms around her, running his fingers through her tresses. Any doubts he had about keeping his secrets vanished in that instant. She was opening up to him in a way he suspected she wouldn’t have if his supposed status hadn’t forced her to. Though he wasn’t an advocate for lying, he felt justified.

Well, mostly justified.

Maybe his doubts hadn’t completely vanished after all.

He couldn’t think about that, couldn’t dwell on his guilt. He had to stay centered on her, help her through her issues. “I’m sorry it’s so hard for you. I think I can understand.”

“You can?” Her voice was muffled in the fabric of his T-shirt. How much of a girl would he be if he said this was his new favorite shirt?

“Yeah, I understand.” He spoke carefully, voicing his suspicions. “The spanking makes you feel…dirty.”

Her head nodded into his chest.

“And slutty?”

“Yeah,” she said, her voice choked.

He kissed her temple. “Especially because you like it.”

“Yeah.”

Gripping her gently by the upper arms, he pushed her away just enough that he could bend to look at her directly. Her eyes were brimming with tears. He’d hit the nail on the head. Even though he’d suspected, it wrenched his gut to see her so uncomfortable with herself. With who she was. Why was it always the women who exuded the most confidence were the most fragile inside? “But it doesn’t make you either of those things, you know.”

When she lowered her head, he squeezed her arms. “Heather? You know that, right?”

This time she met his gaze. “I know. Well, I’m starting to know.”

“Keep going in that direction.” He cupped her chin with his hand and ran his thumb over her cheek. “And if you feel uncomfortable, talk to me.”

“But we don’t really talk about anything. We fight. And make out.” Her teeth grazed her lower lip. “Not that I’m complaining.”

“We’re talking now.”

“So we are.” She dabbed at the corner of her eye. “It’s kind of nice.”

“It’s a whole lot nice.”

She stepped out of his arms, refusing to meet his eyes, and he could sense she felt awkward about the emotions she’d displayed. “Can I ask you something? While we’re talking and all.” Or maybe she felt awkward about what she had to say next.

“Shoot.”

“The, uh, spanking and stuff.” She crossed behind the armchair before turning to face him, leaning on the chair back as if she needed the support. “Are you, like, a Dominant?”

So she’d been doing some research. Interesting. “I like to dominate. But I’m not a Dominant.” Not that he’d ever tried it, but it seemed like too much work and planning. He was more impulsive. “I don’t go to sex clubs or any of that crap either.”

“Then you aren’t expecting me to, um, you know, wear a collar and kneel in front of you and let you tie me up while you whip me and stuff?”

“Well, you’ve already knelt in front of me of your own accord.” He loved that he could make her blush so easily. “And tying you up sounds like a whole helluva lot of fun. But no, I’m not into the collars or whips or chains or any of that Mistress/Sir shit. I like to be in charge. And I like it rough.” He gave her a sly smile. “I’m willing to try new things if that’s what you’re into though.”

“No!” She nearly jumped with her emphatic denial. Her color deepened, and when she spoke again, she was calmer. “No, that’s okay. I just wanted to know what I was in for. If we had sex again, I mean.”

“Oh, we will.” He didn’t think she could blush any further but apparently she could. Damn, she looked good all pink. He needed to touch her. Crossing to her, he held out his hand. She took it, surprisingly, and he led her to the couch where he sat before pulling her next to him.

With his arm around her, she leaned into him. It was instantly comfortable and easy. He played with her hair, wrapping it around his fingers and releasing it again. “What about you? How do you like your sex?”

“I’m not really sure anymore. I’ve never been a prude. I mean, I’ve always liked sex. But I was raised to believe…” She paused and he could hear her swallow. “My father acted like kissing guys made me a whore. It put a damper on a lot of my sexual experiences because there’s always this guilt thing hanging over me.”

No wonder the spanking had bothered her. “That’s tough.”

“Yeah. It is. The sex itself hasn’t always been as fulfilling as it could have been. I’ve never experimented though, because of the guilt. Always stuck to the basics.”

He wondered briefly what basic meant. Like, missionary only? But she’d moved on before he could ask.

“And the guys I’ve been with have been…” He grimaced at the thought of her with other men. “I don’t know…gentle. Overly gentle. As if I needed to be served or adored or whatever.”

“They treated you like a princess?” He chuckled.

“Don’t even…” She sighed. “Yes.” Lifting her head to look at him, she said, “Now you’re going to say it’s because I act like a princess so what do I expect, right?”