Summer with a Star (Second Chances Book 1) (22 page)

“Hey, Tash, you awake?” he murmured as he snuck into the bedroom they’d been sharing for the past four weeks.

Tasha stirred. She was sleeping on her side, facing the window, but at the sound of his voice, she hummed and shifted onto her back. Her eyes were heavy-lidded, almost closed. She’d taken off her bra, and her nipples poked against her thin, cotton t-shirt. Her legs rubbed against each other as she stretched awake. He was hard in an instant.

“Hey,” he said again, low and seductive.
Tell her you love her
, his conscience urged.
Tell her you want to marry her
. His body had other ideas. He tugged his shirt up over his head and took off his shorts. “Is there room for two on that bed?”

She let out a lazy laugh as he crawled onto the quilt and stretched over top of her. His cock ached to be inside of her, so he ground his hips against hers, sucking in a breath at the friction of her shorts. It was a cop-out, sure, but a damn good one. There was something supremely erotic about her being fully clothed while he was naked, like he was hers to command.

He liked the images that brought to his mind and ran with them. “What do you want?” he growled. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll do it.”

She answered with a breathless moan, wrapping her arms around him. “We shouldn’t.” Her voice was still thick with sleep.

“Oh yes, we should.”

He braced his arms on either side of her shoulders and kissed her. Her lips were soft and giving. Her mouth opened for him on a sigh, and he delved inside, kissing her with his soul. Her fingertips pressed into his back, sending a jolt through his groin. She made him hotter than any woman ever had in a fraction of the time. He wanted to call her his forever.
Say something
, his mind urged. Instead, he explored her mouth with his tongue the way he wanted to stroke inside of her with his cock.

“Spence,” she sighed.

“Tasha,” he answered.

He leaned his weight on one arm and reached down to rake his fingertips up across her belly to her breast. She gasped in response, and shivered. He would never get enough of her reactions to his touch. She was so responsive. He had a lifetime to make her gasp and tremble and more.

He pulled her t-shirt up high enough to expose her breast, then bent down to suckle her, tongue circling her nipple, raking it to a tight knot, then he sucked hard. She let out a helpless sigh, her legs moving under him. That sign that she wanted him was so powerful that he pressed his erection hard against the juncture of her thighs. He licked her nipple a few more times, then lifted his head to blow on it.

She gasped aloud, shaking with pleasure.

“Is that what you want?” he asked.

She hummed and nodded, wriggling beneath him. She was irresistible. He pushed her t-shirt up higher, to expose her other breast, but before he could close his mouth around that nipple, she shifted, squirming all the way out of her shirt and tossing it aside.

That was all the invitation he needed. He spread his hands along her sides, teasing her breasts with his fingertips before raking down to her hips so he could unbutton her shorts. She hummed with sweet, sleepy sounds as he unzipped her fly, then planted kiss after kiss down her belly, across her abdomen, and to the flesh that he’d exposed. She arched her hips against him.

The urgent need to be inside of her battled with wanting to give her as much pleasure as possible. He inched back, pulling her shorts and panties down her legs and working them off over her feet. His cock ached with an energy that drove him crazy as it strained up against his abdomen. It knew what it wanted, just as he knew what he wanted. Tasha, this beautiful, amazing woman in front of him, in his life forever.

He hopped off the bed and lunged toward the bureau to grab a condom. As he rolled it on, he imagined how good it would feel to slide inside of her without one. Once things were settled between them, once she was his, nothing would come between them. They could have kids, lots of kids.

That thought propelled him back to the bed. He stretched against her, reveling in the brush of her skin against his, her heat melding with his. That was all he wanted, this heady closeness to her. His mouth sought hers, his hands reached for her breasts. He kissed her, stroked her, rubbed against her, the need to pleasure her as pulsing as his need to find release.

“I love you,” he whispered against her ear, flicking her tongue across her lobe. “God, Tasha, I love you.”

She gasped and arched into him. “Spence.”

The urgency in her voice was too much for him. She was too much for him, and yet there she was, in his arms. He stroked his fingers across the plain of her stomach and down until he found her center, hot, wet, and waiting for him. A sigh of pleasure escaped from her as he circled her clit with his thumb, light strokes that had her gasping for breath. She was brilliant in a classroom, but she was fire and life like this, with him.

He couldn’t hold back. He guided himself to her entrance, then plunged in with the power of his passion. “I love you,” he groaned as he found an urgent rhythm. “So much.”

She tensed around him. The sensation pushed him close to the edge far too soon. He focused his will and thrust into her with slow, even strokes. She cried out with each one, louder and harder as he upped his intensity. He nuzzled her neck as he worked in and out of her, tasting the salt of her skin, breathing in the warmth of her. He would give up everything for her, change the world for her if he had to. She was everything he’d ever wanted and more.

When he felt the first shock of her orgasm squeezing around him, he lost control. As desperately as he wanted to hold still and feel her come, he jerked with the need to fill her, to spill himself inside of her. He came with a hot jolt that he felt from his spine through his groin and into her. It was so good that he cried out, lost in pleasure. She was his, his with his whole heart. He loved her and would do anything,
anything
to make her life as happy as it could be.

Chapter Seventeen

She loved him. She loved him, and it was the biggest mistake of her life. What the hell had she been thinking, letting him seduce her after her nap like that? If there was a Queen of Mistakes, it would have been her. As soon as Spence had drifted off to sleep after sending her to heaven and back, Tasha rolled out of bed, guilt chewing her insides, and skipped off to the bathroom for a shower. How could she? She’d made her decision, and then she’d let that happen. Her heart was still pounding in her chest.

He’d told her he loved her. And, sure, men burst out declarations of love all the time as they were about to come, but Spence had meant it. She closed her eyes and held her head under the spray of warm water in the shower. He loved her. Spencer Ellis loved
her
. And she loved him. Her whole body ached with it. But they were two different people with very different lives. There was no way this could end well. The problem was, it had to end.

“You look like someone rained on your parade,” Yvonne said as Tasha passed her on her way out to the porch. She needed some air, and apparently Yvonne had had enough of it and was now stationed in the living room with a novel instead of a script.

“That’s a good one,” Tasha said, nodding to the novel. It was probably one of hers.

Yvonne slowly arched an eyebrow. It was enough to keep Tasha from heading straight outside. She switched directions and flopped onto the sofa, taking Spence’s script from the coffee table.

“Yes, I’ve always liked romantic novels.” Yvonne closed her book and set it aside, studying Tasha with narrowed eyes.

“You?” Tasha scoffed, eyes staying mostly on the script that she wasn’t really reading as she thumbed through the pages.

“I love a world where things always work out in the end and where true love wins. It’s so different from the world we live in.”

Tasha peeked up, only to find Yvonne leaning forward in her chair, either about to pounce or about to keep Tasha from pouncing. “Is something wrong?” she asked.

“Did you and Spence have a talk earlier?”

The question was so oddly direct that an itch passed down Tasha’s back. She rubbed her shoulders against the back of the sofa. “No. Not really. It wasn’t much of a talk.”

A spark of something Tasha couldn’t put her finger on lit Yvonne’s expression, and she leaned back in her chair, reaching for the book. “Interesting.”

Tasha frowned. “What’s so interesting?”

Yvonne shook her head with a quick, dismissive gesture. “Oh, nothing. Just a conversation Spence and I had earlier.”

Warning sirens rang through Tasha’s head. “You talked to him?”

“I’m his agent, honey, that’s what I do. More than his agent, because most agents wouldn’t devote so much time. I’m his friend.” She settled into her chair and crossed her legs like she’d won a major battle.

“What did you talk to him about?” Tasha pressed.

“His future, of course.”

“Oh.” She hadn’t expected the woman to be so ready with an answer. “Is he going to take the role in Second Chances?”

“Yes.” She smiled, but she didn’t offer elaboration.

“Good for him,” Tasha said, but she had to fight a pinching ache in her heart to do it.

That in itself was ridiculous. She shouldn’t be upset that Spence had taken the role. She wasn’t upset, exactly. It would be a good move for him. He would shine in the part. He would do that shining miles and miles away from her, but that’s what she wanted anyhow, right?

She huffed out a breath and tried to focus on the script. It was one she had already read, for a movie that Spence had complained was like every other movie people wanted him for these days. It wasn’t him. She tossed the script back onto the coffee table. It wasn’t her either. She’d made that decision. She wasn’t cut out to be a celebrity girlfriend.

“You seemed awfully excited about your class list yesterday,” Yvonne said.

Tasha forced herself to meet Yvonne’s eyes with a smile. “Yes, I know some of the kids already. It’s a big school, but I recognize most of the names. I’m looking forward to the new school year.”

“Lovely. And when does that start?”

They’d already had this conversation. The question was about as innocent as Las Vegas.

“Soon,” she answered. Too soon. In just a couple of weeks, this entire frustrating, beautiful, hot, amazing summer would be gone, and Spence with it. Then she would be back to wondering how long it would take her heart to heal and whether anyone would ever look at her the way Spence—or, hell, even Brad—had. It would all be over.

“Do you love him?” Yvonne asked the question in such an odd, soft tone of voice that it snapped Tasha out of her gloomy spiral. Yvonne was back to studying her with those sharp eyes of hers too.

“What?” Tasha balked, flushing red and hot.

“You do, don’t you,” Yvonne said.

Was she that obvious?

Of course she was. She couldn’t hide what she was feeling any more than she could pretend that she was who she wasn’t.

She sighed. “Yes, I do love him. But what good does that do me? He’s going off to film this great TV series, probably down in New York or someplace like that, and I’ll be back in my classroom, doing what I do best.”

“I see.”

She probably did. Better than Tasha could.

“There’s that whole thing about a fish and a bird falling in love, right?” Tasha went on. “It’s pointless. Beautiful, but pointless.”

“Is it?”

Tasha pushed to her feet. She couldn’t handle this conversation anymore. It brought too many points home too hard. “You tell me,” she said, heading for the door to the porch.

“But do you really love him?” Yvonne twisted in her chair to keep facing Tasha as she crossed the room.

“Yes, I’m afraid I do,” Tasha answered. She stopped when she reached the screen door. “My ex was a jerk who crushed my self-esteem. I felt like a fool for dating him without noticing how awful he was for so long. Spence brought me back. I couldn’t believe that this amazing, famous guy could like me, but he does. He told me he loved me earlier. I didn’t think anyone ever would again. I’ll always love him for that.”

“Ah,” Yvonne said as though she understood. “So it’s not Spence you love, it’s the way he makes you feel. Well, that makes things easier.”

She turned to face forward in her chair once more, but Tasha cut her off.

“No, no that is not what this is. I actually love him.
Him
. Not how he makes me feel or who everyone thinks he is.”

She sucked in a breath at her own revelation. Blast. That was not the sort of emotion she was looking for to sort this whole thing out. Yvonne must have agreed with her. She turned to face Tasha once more, a sad, pinched look where here smugness had been.

“Oh dear,” she said.

That was it. That was all she had to offer. Tasha pushed out a breath and shook her head. She couldn’t handle Yvonne and her machinations anymore. She couldn’t handle being in her beautiful dream house with her gorgeous dream lover for another second. She threw open the screen door and marched out into the lengthening shadows of late afternoon, heading down to the beach. The days were already beginning to feel just a little shorter. Reality was closing in. She could either be run over by it, or she could face it head-on and embrace it, no matter how much it hurt.

“Where’s Tasha?” Spence asked Yvonne when he came downstairs. He couldn’t believe he’d fallen asleep after sex, like some stupid male cliché. He’d had a nice rest though, nice enough to feel secure in pouring his heart out to Tasha in earnest.

“She’s walking on the beach,” Yvonne answered from her chair in the living room, reading a book. “Just left about fifteen minutes ago.”

He didn’t like the flatness of her tone, or the thin arch of her brow as she dragged her eyes away from the page and up to meet his.

“Was something wrong?” he asked.

She took far too long to answer. “I may have underestimated the situation.”

Tension sizzled along Spence’s skin and his stomach clenched. He marched through the living room and out onto the porch. The afternoon light was rich with hues of gold and orange. It was low tide, leaving a fat stretch of sand that met calm waves, hugging the shore with a wet sparkle in the slanting light. The air was crisp with salt and a hint of a chill now that August was getting old.

Tasha was about halfway up the beach, walking fast. Even from the distance of the porch, Spence could see that she had her arms wrapped tightly around her torso. That didn’t bode well either. He jogged down to the yard, then down the steps to the beach, fighting the urge to sprint all the way up the beach to her.

By the time he caught up with her, about two thirds of the way to the pier, his heart was beating in his throat. The sweat dripping down his back wasn’t entirely from jogging.

“Hey,” he called out to her.

Tasha gasped and spun to face him. It was bad. Very bad. Worry had tightened her mouth and painted fine lines around her eyes. She looked at him like he was the last person she wanted to see right then, like he was an unwanted intrusion into her thoughts.

“Spence,” she said after too long of a pause. “What are you doing out here?”

Play it cool.

“I woke up and you were gone. Yvonne said you’d gone out for a walk. I thought I’d join you.” He
thought
he’d join her for a lot more than a walk. Now, however?

“Oh,” she replied, then turned to keep on walking. She was still hugging herself.

“Can I join you?”

“Sure.”

Silence. They walked on, side-by-side, not touching. The waves rushed and rolled to their right. He swung his hand close to her arm, hoping she would unwind and take it, but she didn’t. The walk was going to kill him, but he had no idea why. He couldn’t let the silence go on.

“So what’s wrong?” he asked, praying that she would actually tell him.

She shrugged, brushed a strand of hair from her face, chewed her lip.

Damn.

“Whatever is bothering you, I’d like to help you with it,” he tried again. “I’d like us to work things out together.”

She squinted, rolled her shoulders. What the hell was he doing wrong?

“Tasha, please stop.” He stopped himself and reached out for her elbow when she walked on.

At last she paused and turned back to him, letting her arms drop. “Spence,” she said his name on a long exhale, then pressed her fingertips to her forehead. “This isn’t going to work.”

She met his eyes head-on, like a slap in the face.

He took a deep breath. No need to panic. Yet.

To fight his fear, he shrugged. “Okay. I can tell Yvonne to go home. I can tell Duke and Mitch to go home too. It’ll be just the two of us for the rest of our vacation, like it should have been from the beginning.”

She winced. He clenched his jaw. Come on. How was that possibly the wrong thing to say?

“And then what?” she asked.

Uh oh.

“Then what what?”

She sighed and shifted her weight. The waves washed up to within feet of her flip-flops.

“After the summer is over. What then? I’ll tell you what.” She stopped him before he could come up with something. “I’ll go back to my classroom—a place I really like and where I’m good at what I do—and you’ll go back to your intense filming schedules and your exotic location shoots and red carpet galas, that’s what.”

Suspicion slithered down his back. “Did Yvonne say something to you?”

“Yes. I mean, no,” she said. “Nothing I hadn’t already thought of myself.”

“I wish you’d share those thoughts with me. I wish you’d been sharing them with me all along.”

“Do you?” she looked up at him with twisting doubt in her eyes.

“Yes.” He threw his arms up. “I do. I stopped myself every time I saw that look come into your eyes because I wanted to give you the space to come up with whatever you needed to come up with on your own.”

She let out a breath. “I appreciate that,” she said, as meek as she was genuine. “But it wouldn’t have changed things.”

“Are you sure?” How could he be losing this battle when he hadn’t ever had a chance to fight it?

“I am.”

“Well, I’m not,” he went on. “I’m not even sure what we’re fighting about or if we’re fighting in the first place.”

“We’re not fighting,” she said.

Coulda fooled him.

“Look, when I came upstairs earlier while you were napping, I got carried away.” It was the understatement of the century. “I wanted to talk to you about how I feel, about where I think we’re going. But you were so beautiful, lying there, half in dreamland, half here.”

“That’s the point, Spence,” she said with sudden vehemence. He tensed. “That’s exactly the point. I’ve been in dreamland all this time. Sand Dollar Point, this whole summer, was my dream. And it’s been a great dream.” She stepped closer and put a hand on his arm. “I never should have slept with you this afternoon. I’m sorry if I led you in the wrong direction. But the last couple of days have driven the point home that it’s time to wake up. The dream is about to be over.”