The Hot Corner (16 page)

After a few moments of stillness, he smiled and kissed me gently, contrasting with the way he’d just fucked me hard in the shower. I unlocked my legs from around him and our kiss didn’t break as I put my feet back on the ground. That was where they belonged, but my head was spinning from the sweet kiss and the hot steam and everything that had happened in the past twelve hours.

He was right, of course. I doubted we’d be able to go back to normal when he returned to town next week. I didn’t know what we could be or what we would be, but certainly not what we’d once been. Maybe something new.

“There goes that busy brain again.” He laughed as he bent to grab a bottle of shampoo. “Let’s see if you can think when I wash your hair.” He knew the answer to that. Washing my hair had been one of his favorite things to do, and from the way he combed his fingers through my hair and massaged the shampoo into my scalp, it didn’t seem that had changed any. I let out a little moan.

“I didn’t think so.” He sounded so damn proud of himself, but I felt too good to argue with him, and he’d know I was lying anyway. He repeated the process with the conditioner and then we took turns lathering each other up.

He dried me off before getting a towel and taking care of himself. Watching the water droplets disappear off his body was a lovely thing. He pulled on his clothes from last night while I wrapped myself in a robe and tried to control the weird butterflies suddenly fluttering in my stomach.

“So have a good trip.” Try not to fuck any fans while you’re away.

He brushed my damp hair aside and kissed me. “I’ll call you.”

How many times had he said those words before he’d gone off to play ball in another city? Countless.

“You don’t have to.”

He silenced me when his lips met mine. I sighed and melted into him. So familiar, yet so different. I’d never had to think about other girls until my ill-fated trip to Omaha. How many times had I wished I’d just stayed home, none the wiser? It embarrassed me to think how pathetic it was that I’d rather have turned a blind eye than gone through the pain of losing him.

He smiled and kissed the tip of my nose before releasing me. “Every night.” When I only stared at him, he touched my cheek. “It’s time we got to know one another again. Not what we think we know, or what other people think they know. Just you and me.”

That sounded . . . good. And dangerous. “Okay.”

“And when I get back, I want to see you.”

I laughed and tried to steady myself. I felt breathless. “Well, you kind of have to. We have a lot to go over still, and—”

“A date, Dani. I want to take you out on a date. No book, no discussion of anyone but you and me.”

Oh. Yes. Well. I could hardly say no when he was looking all boyish and hopeful and excited about it. Plus, I wanted it myself. “That sounds good to me.”

His smile could have lit up the room. “It will be.” He kissed me hard before grabbing his jacket. He started to put it on but then he shrugged out of it and handed it to me.

“Keep it.” He kissed me again and I felt like my head was going to spin off my shoulders from the heat and happiness. “Think of me.”

With a grin and a wave he was gone. And I was left to do nothing but.

Chapter 14

After Brad left, I shut off my phone and threw myself back into bed. It had been way too long since I’d had a night of fabulous sex and I was exhausted. If I counted back, the last time my body had felt this tired was with him. Jason and I had been one and done when we’d slept together, which hadn’t been that often. I’d usually felt more like an accessory for his arm than a beloved fiancée, but it had worked for me for a while, until I’d had to admit to myself there was no excitement, no love there, and called it off. There’d been men between the two of them—pleasant, perfectly nice men I dated for a couple of months—but things would inevitably die off and we’d both walk away no worse for the wear.

That’s what I needed to prepare myself to do now. Brad was the only man who’d ever hurt me, and I knew without a doubt it wouldn’t take much for him to hurt me all over again. Getting involved with him was stupid. In the past, he’d been a sweet, loving, and—I’d thought—loyal boyfriend. He still showed flashes of those traits, but loyalty? For all I knew, some flight attendant could be giving him more than just a drink and smile right then.

But I wanted him. I was already craving him again. I reached out and pulled the jacket he’d left toward my nose and inhaled deeply. It smelled like him, and I hugged it to me as I closed my eyes.

I woke to an incessant knocking at my door. My arms were still locked around Brad’s jacket, and I shook my head as I pushed it away. I straightened my robe and patted at my hair, knowing it was a lost cause. Going to sleep with it still damp meant it was a wild curling mess. I went to the door and opened it a crack.

“It’s about time! Do you know I’ve been calling you for hours? Wait, is he still here?” Pam was in my hallway, trying to peer past me, her words firing at me like bullets from a gun. “He said he was catching a plane, but I thought maybe that was a euphemism. Shit, I’ll go.”

I laughed as I pulled the door all the way open. She wasn’t the glamorous movie star I’d assumed her to be. No, Pam was a little bit crazy and a lot of fun.

“He’s not here,” I said. “Come inside before some tabloid reports that you were having an argument with your lesbian lover in her hotel room hallway.”

She laughed loudly as she walked past and sat gracefully in the uncomfortable orange chair. “That would be a first! I never thought about spreading that rumor. It would probably help my career. Lesbians are hot right now.” She looked me over and let out a whistle. “And if they got a load of you, they’d no doubt believe it. You look freshly fucked.”

Oh, God, did I? I tried unsuccessfully to tame my hair again and sighed as I sat on the bed across from her. “I just woke up.”

“From a night of being freshly fucked,” she said, and I laughed. “You know, Brad sounded awfully chipper this morning. I knew it had to have gone well, but even I didn’t think it’d go this well. So? I need details!”

I ignored the last part and focused on the first. “You talked to Brad?”

She wagged a finger at me. “Uh-uh. You get details when I get details. Spill.”

What was weird was that I actually wanted to talk to her about it. Pam was a kindred spirit, despite her past relationship with Brad. Or maybe because of it, I wasn’t sure. But it was also awkward as hell.

“Are you sure you want to know? I mean, isn’t it weird?”

She shook her head, crossing her million-dollar legs and smiling at me. “Honey, I’ve already told you, Brad and I are just friends. Friends who occasionally screw, but friends all the same. And I get the feeling we’ve scratched our last itch together, if you know what I mean.”

“He said you hadn’t been together in a long time.” I needed to know if that was true.

“Yeah, it’s been a while. Right before the playoffs last season, actually.” She scrunched up her nose. “September maybe? I remember thinking we’d have some play time after the season was over, but he started talking about the biography he was considering having written, and that was that.”

So he’d been telling the truth about Pam. That was good.

“Anyway, I’d started dating my costar in
Forbidden
,
and then spring training hit and time just got away from us. I hadn’t realized it had been that long.”

I blinked. “You were with Maxwell Hillwood?” He was one of the hottest actors in the world right now. How had the tabloids missed that?

“Yes, it was very hush-hush as he’s going through a divorce, but we hooked up during the shoot.” She had a faraway look in her eyes. “We still talk, but seeing each other is out of the question since he didn’t officially file until after the shoot started. The press would eat me alive and paint me as a homewrecker.” Her eyes widened. “I’m not, by the way! He filed before we did a thing. He was upset and we started talking and one thing led to another.”

“You don’t have to tell me that, but I believe you. It seems like you really like him.”

“I do. I shouldn’t, since I’m probably just a rebound, but I do.”

As if Pamela Baxter could ever be anyone’s rebound? “I sincerely doubt that. He’s worth waiting for, right?”

A slow smile stole over her face. “Yes, he is. And was Brad?”

I laughed and shook my head. “Trust you to turn that around on me.” My distraction techniques clearly needed work. “In a word, yes.”

She squealed and launched herself at me before gripping me in a tight hug. “I’m so happy for you! And for him! I’m telling you, he sounded like a giddy fool when I talked to him. I honestly thought maybe he was high for a minute. Clearly he
was
high, but not on anything illegal.” She pulled back and wiggled her eyebrows at me. “Or was he? Did you two break any public indecency laws?”

My laugh came out like a donkey’s bray and she collapsed on the bed next to me before shrieking and standing quickly. “Wait! I can’t sit here after you two defiled it with your potentially illegal sexual acts.” She laughed with me as she pulled the orange chair closer and rested her elbows on the arms. “Go on.”

When I caught my breath, I grinned at her. “You’re kind of nuts, you know that?”

“Obviously. I’m an actress. Sanity just gets in the way.” She waved a hand. “Stop deflecting. I want details.”

“Fair enough, but first—how did you get him over here?”

A devious smile lit her face and she chuckled. “I didn’t have to do much, let me tell you. He was sulking when we met at the restaurant. My idea, by the way. I didn’t want him to have to take me home before running to you.”

“Smart,” I said.

“Of course. Anyway, he was scowling at everybody and pouting over his beer while I was laying it on thick, talking about how much I liked you and what fun we had at lunch and shopping.” She grinned. “I may have told him that you bought this see-through, skimpy lingerie that made your pale skin look delectable and that you had a beautiful body.”

She was diabolical and I was very glad she was on my side. “I didn’t buy lingerie or even try any on.”

Pam shrugged. “Artistic license. And I didn’t lie about the body, which was the important thing. Then I told him all about the spa and how I saw you naked.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“Mostly naked,” she said, “but again, semantics. And I told him your masseur had his hands and eyes all over you and that I was pretty sure he got a hard-on from all your moaning and thrashing around on the table.”

“You didn’t!”

She looked very proud of herself. “I did. And I swear to God he turned red. He kept muttering to himself and gripping the table so hard his hands were turning white.” I had to admit, that image made me kind of happy, despite my mortification at her inaccurate, pornographic description of my massage.

“The
pièce de résistance
was when I told him you said you finally felt relaxed for the first time in weeks, and that I encouraged you to get your rocks off with Lance because then you’d feel even better. His eyes bulged out of his head when I said you agreed that might do the trick.” She laughed, delighted with herself. “He yelled at me, threw back his chair and stormed out of the restaurant before our food even arrived. One of the tabs has a report about our ‘lovers’ tiff’ up already.”

“Lovers’ tiff, my ass,” I muttered, and she laughed even harder. “Doesn’t it bug you when they get all that stuff wrong?”

Pam shook her head. “No. I’d rather they get it wrong than right.” She smiled sadly and I had a feeling she was thinking of Maxwell. “Besides, it can be fun. I’ve been engaged six times and secretly married twice, had three babies, slept with a politician, been to rehab . . . my favorite was when I left Hollywood and joined a religious cult. My fake life is way better than a movie script. What they should do is have those tabloid writers—if you can call them such a thing—write for Hollywood. I guarantee they’d come up with some good plotlines.”

“Well, tiff or not, it sounds like you drove him cra
z
y,” I said. “I guess I need to thank you for that.” Even though I wasn’t sure connecting with him again was a good thing, I couldn’t regret it. Not after the way he’d made me feel last night. And again this morning.

“You’re very welcome, my dear. And, all kidding aside, you don’t have to give me all the dirty details.” She winked. “Though I’d be happy to listen if you want me to.”

“I just bet you would.” And because she’d helped me, and because I needed a sounding board, I launched into a description of the night, without getting specific on the sex itself. That was between the two of us and, well, she’d been with him before and knew about the mechanics just as well or better than I did.

Pam laughed over him searching my room for Lance, awwed over him stealing my fries, and sighed over our ultimately giving in and getting down and dirty.

“He wants to take me out when he gets back. Like, on a date.”

Pam smiled. “Well, it’s the least he can do after you let him fuck your brains out all night.” I glared at her and she giggled. “What, it’s true! Plus, I think it’ll be good for you both.”

“I’m afraid,” I said, plucking at my comforter.

“Afraid of what? It’s just dinner, not a wedding.”