Not a Fairy Tale: HarperImpulse Contemporary Romance (13 page)

His erection stood long and thick, the engorged head pressing against the waistband of his boxer briefs. Then he stripped off those too and knelt again beside her on the bed. She licked her lips and reached out to touch. She’d never seen an erection so tall before. Her hand slid down over the smooth skin, admiring the way he flexed in her hand, the way the veins stood out against his darkening skin.

He tore open a foil packet and she held out her hand for the condom. “Let me,” she said. Her voice sounded like a stranger’s, thick with need. He dropped the condom in her palm and tossed away the wrapper as she rolled it on. Every nerve in her body was once again alight. As she stroked down the latexed length of him, he peeled off her panties, laying her completely bare before him.

He slid a hand along her calf, lifting her leg. With a grin, she wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him close, skin against skin, her stomach pressing against his so she could feel his every breath as if it were her own.

He smiled as he bent down over her, holding his weight off her with the strength of his arms. Up close, he was even more beautiful, all solid, hard muscle. So beautiful that the tears pricked against her eyelids again. She blinked them away.

The pulsing head of his erection pressed against her opening for one maddening moment, but she was having none of that. He’d taken his time. He’d made her come first. Now she needed him inside her. No more delays. She’d already waited two years too long for this. Her hips surged upwards, forcing him in, and he grunted his pleasure as her already orgasm-wet body encased him.

She gasped as he pushed, burying himself deep. He stilled inside her.

“Are you okay?” he asked, stroking back the hair from her face.

She nodded, unable to speak. His erection twitched inside her, and every nerve in her body responded. He needed no further invitation and began to move inside her, faster and faster. She held his gaze, wanting to see that look in his eyes as he came, but she had no chance. Already her own orgasm, another orgasm, rolled over her, tumbling her in its rough embrace. She clung to Dom for support, her fingers raking his back as he rode her to the edge of the storm, and then she was lost, sightless, senseless, lost in the pleasure.

Then he came too, his body shuddering, his voice hoarse, as he surged inside her one last time before collapsing beside her.

He pulled her to face him, holding her close against his chest, their breaths heaving. For a long, long time they lay together, his fading erection still inside her, the pulses gradually diminishing. She never wanted to let him go, buried her head in his shoulder and breathed him in, that scent of sea and sex and man.

She never wanted to let him go.

But she couldn’t hold on forever.

He slipped out of her and rolled away to dispose of the condom, and she wanted so much to cry, to release the sudden flood of emotions that rushed into the space in the bed where Dom had lain a moment ago.

She wanted to hold on forever.

Turning away, she buried her face in his pillows, breathing in that soft lemony scent, dragging her tumbled emotions together. Making love to Dominic had been more intimate, more wonderful, and more scary than any other man she’d ever been with. Not that she had much experience to compare it to, but this wasn’t supposed to be how casual sex felt, she was sure.

Casual was what it had felt like with Paul after months and months of dating. Casual was how she wanted it. These kinds of emotions were not allowed in her personal life. Only in that space between “action” and “cut” did she ever feel safe enough to let the emotions out. This wasn’t safe.

As Dom climbed back onto the bed, she slid away, out the other side of the bed.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“To my own room.” She was careful not to look at him. “I need to wash my make-up off.”

“You can wash here, in my bathroom.”

“I need more than just soap and water.”

“Then don’t take too long.”

She faced him then, needing to see if the look on his face matched the tenderness and eagerness in his voice. It did. A lump welled up in her throat. “You want me to stay?”

“Yes. I want you to stay.” His eyes were too dark for her to read, but his soft voice, and the emotion in it, rang clear. She was sure this wasn’t an invitation he made often. If ever.

Her heart jumped and she hated herself for it.

She nodded and hurried towards the stairs, only managing to hold back the silent tears until she reached the door of her own bedroom. Then they came.

She took her time removing the make-up, brushing out her hair, brushing her teeth. The everyday rituals calmed her, soothed her, until the tears finally stopped. Then she stepped out of the bathroom and rummaged through the closet.

Wendy had not had the foresight to pack any other sexy lingerie. The only sleep clothes she had were not designed for seduction. Instead, she pulled on a thin, silk kimono, which barely reached her thighs, and turned back to the door, pausing for a moment with her hand on the knob.

The adrenalin and the alcohol no longer zinged through her veins. What happened now could not be blamed on anything else but her desire for this man. Not because he was conveniently here, or because he was a hot man who knew how to make a woman feel as if she was as beautiful as Scarlett Johansson, but because he was Dominic Kelly and she’d had a thing for him from the first moment she’d lain eyes on him.

She swallowed and pushed open the door.

He lay on his back, his head cushioned on his arms as he waited for her, and he smiled as she stepped into the room. She smiled too. He was still buck-naked and the sight of him took her breath away.

He held out a hand to her and she moved towards him, climbing onto the bed. But she didn’t lie down. She knelt at the foot of the bed and looked at him.

“Come here,” he instructed.

She shook her head.

He sat up on his elbows. “What’s wrong?”

“What if I want more than you’re willing to give?” Her voice came out a whisper.

His expression remained neutral, which scared her more than if she’d seen a flare of panic in his eyes. At least then she would have known if she was about to screw everything up or not.

“What is it you want?”

Oh help. She needed a little of her family’s legendary bravery. Just one smidgeon of her sister’s tenacity or her father’s fearlessness. “I want this to be more than just one night.” She swallowed. “I don’t want to go back to the ways things were before. I want to do this again.”

The beginnings of a smile began to curve his mouth. “That’s not more than I’m willing to give.”

“I want to share your bed for the next five weeks. Exclusively.” She’d heard the rumors that he wasn’t averse to sharing, but she was. “When it gets awkward or stops being fun, then we end it.”

The half-smile turned into a full-blown grin. “Anything else?”

She shook her head. For the moment, that was all she could think of. Her and Dominic naked and horizontal. As often as possible. Maybe not even horizontal.

“I think I can live with that.” He reached for her, pulling her into his arms, and she went to him, ready and willing for his kiss.

Dom woke with the dawn and lay for a long moment staring across his neighbors’ rooftop to the wide blue ocean. Another amazing Californian day stretched before them.

Nina still slept beside him, curled up on her side, facing away from him. He couldn’t remember when last he’d woken with a woman in his bed. And he never slept the night through in
her
bed.

He rose, careful not to wake her, though he needn’t have bothered. Over these past ten days he’d learned enough about Nina to know she slept like the dead. Even so, he moved to the windows and pulled the curtains shut so the sun wouldn’t wake her.

He pulled on a pair of boxers, then headed downstairs, moving stiffly and slowly. There would be no morning run on the beach today. He’d given his hip as much abuse as it could take last night. He grinned as he reached the bottom of the stairs. The abuse had been worth it.

He baulked in the doorway to the kitchen. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

Juliet sat on a stool, swinging her legs as she peeled grapes at the counter. He hated when she did that.

“You’re ruining perfectly good grapes,” he said, stepping past her and heading for the coffee machine. “Why don’t you eat them whole?”

She shrugged. “The skin absorbs all the pesticides.”

“I buy organic from the farmer’s market. You know that.”

She popped a peeled grape into her mouth. “The guest bed wasn’t slept in last night. Does that mean the actress has given up and gone home?”

She’d checked? He frowned. “No.” He pulled two mugs from the cupboard above the coffee machine and didn’t look at his sister.

“So you finally saw sense and decided to get her out of your system?”

“No.” Sensible definitely wasn’t what he’d been. Crazed would have been a better description. And Nina was very far from being out of his system.

He made green tea for himself, and an espresso for Nina, black and unsweetened, just the way she liked it. When he turned back, Juliet was watching him with narrowed eyes. He didn’t like the look of speculation in them.

“Don’t start getting ideas about me doing something stupid like settling down, either,” he warned. “Just because I didn’t show her the door straight after sex doesn’t mean this is turning into a long-term commitment. It just means I’m not a complete cad.” He didn’t fall for women. Ever. He simply wasn’t made that way.

Women equaled drama and he already had enough drama in his life from his sisters, thank you very much.

By now you’d think his sisters would have realized that, but no, they continued to throw broad hints that he should settle down to marriage and kids. Sometimes women could be completely clueless.

He shrugged. “One night or one month, it doesn’t matter. It’s still just sex.”

Juliet concentrated on peeling another grape, but he wasn’t fooled. “Spit it out,” he said with a sigh.

“Would it be so bad? I mean, to stick with one woman for more than a few weeks? To try having a relationship with someone?”

And there we go again.
“I’ll let you know if I ever find out.” He shoved her arm playfully. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

“I thought I’d take Sandy out for a walk this morning. Save you doing anything stupid to your hip like going for a run.” She glanced down at his hip, as if she had x-ray vision that could see through his boxers to the bone beneath. “How did your hip hold up to the strain last night anyway?”

“That is none of your damned business.”

She grinned cheekily. “I’m your physio. I need to know these things.”

“Then maybe I need to find myself a physio I’m not related to. Weren’t you going to take Sandy for a walk?”

“Yeah, yeah.” She hopped down off the kitchen stool. “I know. I’ve outstayed my welcome and you want to get back to bed. I’ll let the others know to call first before they pop round for the next few weeks, shall I?”

“That would be nice.”

Juliet let herself out the back door, whistling for Sandy, who was no doubt investigating the yard for signs of overnight predators. Dom latched the door shut behind them.

“Who was that?” Nina stumbled into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes. She’d put on the silk kimono, but it gaped in front, enough to give him a glimpse of the swell of her pale breasts.

“Jules. She’s taken Sandy out for a run.”

“Does that mean I get a day off for good behavior?” Nina perched on the stool Juliet had just vacated. Dom handed her a coffee mug. “Thanks. I feel positively decadent for having had a lie-in.”

He laughed. “It’s the same time I have to force you out of bed every day. The only difference is that the clocks changed at midnight for Daylight Savings. I can’t imagine how you cope when you’re working on a movie and have early calls.”

“It’s different for work. I don’t love mornings any more than normal, but I love the work I do. I love arriving on a film set in the mornings, that electric buzz.”

“You’re working with me,” he pointed out.

She set down her mug and crossed to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. Her eyes sparkled as she looked up at him. “This doesn’t feel like work. This feels like play.”

He kissed her forehead, and then, because that wasn’t nearly enough, he kissed her lips, lingering over her cherry lip-gloss taste. Nina gave back as hungrily as she took, her hands roving over his bare skin, and just like that he was hard and aching to be inside her again.

But there would be no sweeping her off her feet and carrying her upstairs. Not until he’d had a little more recovery time and at least two anti-inflammatories.

The most he could do was sweep her up onto the kitchen counter. He spread her legs, smiled as he noticed she was naked beneath the kimono, and positioned himself between her thighs.

She was just as beautiful in person as she was on the magazine covers. Her skin was a little less flawless and more real, and her curves a little thicker than the retouched photographs suggested, but he liked her even more for it.

He stroked his fingers down her face, and her eyes fluttered closed. “You’ve never been more beautiful that you are right now,” he said.

Her eyes flew open. “I’m not even wearing any make-up.”

“Exactly.”

She shook her head, just a small movement against his palm. “I’ve lost count of how many people have suggested I get a little work done to correct some of my imperfections.”

“I love your imperfections. No one person can have the perfect everything or be the perfect everything.” He slid a hand up her smooth thigh. Real. Flesh and blood. And very human. “You’ve done everything I asked of you for ten days and haven’t asked for time off. Today you get to do whatever you want. Lunch out with your girlfriends, shopping, a day at the spa…?”

Her wicked smile set his blood on slow boil. “There’s only one thing I want to do today.” She ran her palm down over his chest, all the way from his pecs down to the waistband of his boxers. “You.” Her hand moved lower, rubbing over his hardening erection. “I want to spend the day in bed with you.”

There were worse things than being a sex object, right?

He grinned. “Who needs a bed?”

Forget recovery time. He untied the sash of her kimono and it fell open to reveal her perfect breasts, big and round, soft enough that he could tell they were the real thing. He cupped them, gently squeezing, rolling a dark nipple between his thumbs, and her eyes glazed over. She arched her back and moaned, pushing aside the bowl of half-eaten grape skins Juliet had left behind so she could lie back on the counter.

She opened herself up to him, wanton, inviting, and he bent over her, taking one taut aureole in his mouth, sucking hard. Nina whimpered.

His hand slid down over her cool, smooth skin to the juncture of her thighs. His thumb circled her clit as he dipped a finger into her. She bucked against him, already wet for him.

Gradually his finger moved faster and faster inside her, then he slid in another and another, stretching her, preparing her.

Her stomach muscles quivered as she responded to his touch, her skin flushed with desire.

She pushed up into his hand and he stroked and kneaded until she begged for more. With his free hand he pushed down his boxers and pressed his pulsing length against her heated core.

She struggled to her elbows, biting her lip. “Not without a condom.” Her voice was ragged and breathless.

As if he’d forget. He reached behind her to the ceramic pot where he kept his car keys, breath mints…all the basic necessities. He pulled a foil packet out of the bowl and tore it open.

“You keep condoms in your kitchen?”

He shrugged. You never knew when you might need one.

He rolled it on and poised himself at her entrance. Her eyes darkened, the dilated pupils turning them black and wild. Then he sank himself into her, grunting his relief as he buried himself hilt-deep into her warm, wet embrace.

She moved with him, her moans growing louder, driving him on. God! He loved that she was so responsive, so uninhibited. He loved that she held nothing back and abandoned herself to the pleasure. It took everything in him to hold back his release until she came, her body rippling around him, her cry fierce and fervent. Then he let himself go, with the same abandon, exploding inside her as the orgasm slammed through him.

Yeah, he could do five more weeks of this.

The next week of Nina’s training was a lot less painful than her first. Her muscles grew accustomed to the strain, daily growing stronger, and it was a whole lot easier concentrating on whatever activities Dom set her without the constant push-pull of tension between them.

Which was just as well since, far from easing up on her now they were sleeping together, he seemed to have upped her training to a whole new level. The only benefit was that there was a whole lot more touching than before. She could forgive him being a hard taskmaster when he made up for it by stealing kisses at every opportunity.

In public, he was always discreet, maddeningly so, since Chrissie’s Big Plan was becoming more attractive with each passing day. Maybe it would be good for her career to be photographed with a strapping, tough stunt man. But Dom kept a clear distance between them whenever anyone else was around. Because he didn’t want his friends getting any ideas that this was more than it was? Or because he didn’t want Nina getting the same idea?

She brushed away the hurt and focused on her training.

In addition to their early-morning runs, Dom now made her do endless push-ups and sit-ups too, and there was weight training every second day. Not the familiar circuit her personal trainer made her do; Dom’s idea of weight training was closer to torture than exercise. But when he took her out for home-made gelato afterwards, at least she didn’t feel guilty at the indulgence.

Monday was spent at the firing range, mercifully closed to the public so she could improve her marksmanship away from scrutiny. She learned to handle and assemble a variety of both decommissioned prop weapons as well as real ones, firing with blanks and live ammunition.

In their martial arts sessions she graduated to hand-to-hand combat, and at the race track Evan taught her better cornering skills and how to do donuts. Dom definitely got the benefit of
that
adrenalin rush afterwards.

The only aspect of her training she hadn’t mastered was horse-riding. She still looked like a rank amateur and could barely walk for the bruises afterwards.

Blisters, bruises, pulled muscles, muscle cramps. She had them all. And each and every one felt like a trophy.

But even better than the adventure and adrenalin rush of her days was the thrill of her nights. They rarely left the house, enjoying sundowners in the oasis of Dom’s yard, cooking together, eating together, enjoying long baths in his whirlpool tub, early nights in bed exploring one another…

She didn’t sleep in the guest bedroom all week.

If she hadn’t had a clue before what had been wrong between her and Paul, she knew now. Chemistry. If she’d had just a third of the chemistry with Paul that she had with Dom, she might have been tempted to say “yes” to him.

As it was, she found herself saying “yes” to Dominic rather a lot. Usually in short, breathy gasps or very loud screams. She wasn’t normally a screamer, but with Dom she didn’t seem able to hold anything back. He brought out a wild side in her she didn’t even know she had. And she loved it.

By the following Saturday she was excited to get back on the trapeze, definitely her favorite part of her training so far. Now that she’d mastered the basics of midair somersaults and catches, Gianna moved her to the big rig, the one with proper safety nets.

“Concentrate,” she chided, pushing Dom’s hands off her hips when he was supposed to be securing her safety harness. Instead, she took advantage of his distraction with the harness to slide her own hands beneath his t-shirt. Dom
didn’t
push her hands away. It felt like a victory of sorts.

“What’s keeping you?” Gianna called down from the platform above their heads. With a grin, Dom slapped Nina’s butt as she started up the ladder.

She climbed to the platform above, where Gianna waited for her. Today Gianna planned to introduce her to the lyra to improve her balance. The lyra was a circular metal hoop suspended in midair and used for various balancing and spinning aerial maneuvers, a combination of gymnastics, ballet, and athleticism.

Nina had played so many klutzy characters over the years that it was almost a surprise to learn she could be graceful. Maybe it was the freedom of being in midair, without the force of gravity holding her feet to the ground. Or maybe it was Dom watching her from below, making her feel like she could do anything, be anyone.

This feeling was why she’d turned her life around when she’d hit rock bottom. This was why she’d chosen to be an actress. For more years than she could remember, she’d wanted to be someone else. To be the woman she saw now in Dom’s eyes when he looked at her.

It was usually a sensation she only experienced in front of the cameras.

But she had to tread carefully. She was dangerously close to letting Dom get too close. It was hard to keep her lack of inhibition in the bedroom from spilling over into their daily lives, and she couldn’t afford to let her mask slip any further than it already had or he would realize that she was a fake, that she wasn’t brave or strong or sassy, or any of the other things he admired in her. Or that the only time she took risks was in front of the cameras, where every move was scripted and choreographed.