Not a Fairy Tale: HarperImpulse Contemporary Romance (14 page)

Dom might like the Nina who didn’t wear make-up and who wore glasses, but if he knew the scared, insecure woman beneath the sexy outer shell she’d worked so hard to create, he wouldn’t want her anymore.

“Will we see you at the pub tonight?” Gianna asked when their training session was over.

Nina shrugged and looked at Dom. Other than for her training, they hadn’t left the house all week. The novelty still hadn’t worn off.

“It’s a country-music band playing tonight,” Gianna added.

Now that was different. “Please can we go?” She turned big, round eyes on him and Dom laughed.

“I never figured you for a country girl.”

“Through and through.”

This time Dom drove them to the pub. And this time Nina wore sensible, practical jeans. If the cropped tank top she wore was a little less sensible, flashing a whole lot of skin at her increasingly toned stomach, Dom didn’t complain. In fact, the look in his eyes promised fun when they got home.

As they entered the pub, he placed a protective hand on her lower back and she was glad for the reassuring touch. Olivia wasn’t on duty tonight, but still she had to face Jacob. She’d used him shamelessly to make Dom jealous, led him on then dropped him without a word, and she blushed when she saw him in the group that awaited them.

But Jacob didn’t seem to hold a grudge. He kissed her cheek. “You’re still here, then?”

“Yeah, I’m stubborn like that. When I want something, I don’t give up until I get it.”

Dom leaned in, his trademark crooked grin reaching his eyes. “I don’t think he was talking about your training.”

She leaned closer too and dropped her voice. “Neither was I.”

Jacob raised an eyebrow as he looked between them. “You’re a lucky bastard,” he said to Dom, then turned his attention to the redhead serving the beers tonight.

Dom was careful not to touch her in public. As much as her head reasoned this was a good thing, her body wasn’t happy. This was what ‘no strings’ meant, didn’t it? She had no claim on him.

She had to keep it casual. So what would a ‘casual’ woman do? A casual woman would have fun, wouldn’t she? She’d dance to the music and drink a beer and sway her hips, and she’d laugh and joke, and she wouldn’t give a damn whether Dom treated her the same as he treated every other woman he’d ever been with. It had to be enough that tonight it wasn’t any other woman at his side. Tonight it was
her
he had chosen. Even if no one else knew it.

The band took to the stage and began to play covers of popular country songs, lively tunes about summer parties, blue jeans, tailgates, and beers. Nina danced to the beat, singing along with the lyrics. At least this part of her ‘keep it casual’ role wasn’t an act.

Vicki and her husband Ben joined the dancers in the open space before the band. Nina’s feet itched to join them, and at last Dom held out his hand to her, “Care to dance?”

Hell, yes! Especially as it meant getting up close and personal with him. He placed his hand on her hip and they swayed to the music.

He swung her away and back again, catching her around her waist in a move that wouldn’t have been out of place on
Dancing with the Stars
. She should have figured he’d be a great dancer, too. When it came to using his body, there wasn’t anything Dom couldn’t do – and do it better than anyone else.

He spun her around again and this time he pulled her tight against him.

“We could be seen,” she whispered in warning. Though her heart picked up its pace a little at the thought.

His hands slid down her lower back, cupping the curve of her butt and pulling her in tight against him. As if she needed the reminder that there was one thing he was even more of a champion at than dancing.

Liquid heat soaked between her legs, starting a throb that escalated through her body.

Since the TV show had made her famous she’d become a recluse, avoiding leaving the privacy of her quiet condo complex, where her neighbors were often equally well known and equally camera-shy. She only left home for work or the kind of events where privacy was guaranteed and security details laid on – and those were never the kinds of events where country music was played.

Wendy ran her errands, paid her bills, did her shopping, and even read her emails so she didn’t have to face the often hostile and very personal comments strangers felt entitled to make from behind the safety of their computers.

She hadn’t even realized how trapped she’d felt in that lonely existence until she’d moved in with Dom. In these couple of weeks she’d been out in the wide world more than she had in years. If she ignored the occasional autograph-hunter or person wanting their photo taken with her, she almost felt like a normal human being again.

So normal she’d even begun to imagine doing things she’d once only dreamed about. Taking risks, rebelling against the diets and the expectations and the lengthy list of things she could no longer do in public. Fantasies that definitely weren’t vanilla, and which she had never spoken aloud to anyone. Fantasies that this new
casual
persona wasn’t afraid to indulge in.

Fantasies like make out in a public place.

PDAs were frowned on in her world. Unless you were Miley Cyrus. How she envied Miley her freedom to do whatever she wanted and screw the consequences.

The most demonstrative Paul had ever been was to hold her hand as they hurried from car to restaurant or car to party. And even then she’d wondered if that was more for the sake of the cameras than as an indication that he was into her.

Yet here she was in a public bar, Dom’s arms around her, his body pressed against hers.

For so long she’d believed she would never get his attention, and yet here she was, in his arms. Fantasies could come true.

His hand slid beneath the hem of her shirt to stroke incendiary circles on the bare skin at her waist.

“Get a room,” Jacob teased, his arms wrapped around a girl who looked as if she still needed to be carded to get into a place like this.

“Good idea,” Nina said. “Perhaps we should go home.”

Dom shook his head, a grin curving his wicked mouth. He pressed his lips close to her ear. “I have a much better idea.”

He took her hand and led her away from the noise and the music, away from the bar that was now packed with people, to the quiet, dim-lit corridor leading to the restrooms. There he paused, turning to face her. “Want to pick up where we left off last time we were here?”

The beat still thumped through the soles of their feet, though the music was muted here. She glanced around, her heart thumping even more wildly than the music. Here – where anyone could see them?

“I can’t wait until we get home,” he whispered, nibbling small kisses down her neck.

He most certainly wasn’t doing this for the benefit of any cameras. He was completely into her and didn’t care who knew. Even his friends. There couldn’t be any aphrodisiac stronger than that dizzying revelation.

Close by a toilet flushed and a faucet began to run.

With another of those wicked grins she loved so much, Dom pulled her down the corridor and pushed open a door further along. A walk-in supply closet.

He shoved her inside and followed, leaving the door ajar so a sliver of light turned the pitch blackness of the tiny room to murky shadow. Then he pulled her into his arms, his mouth unerringly finding hers in the dark. She opened up for him, kissing him back as she’d never have dared to do in the crowded bar room.

Outside in the corridor a door creaked open and there were footsteps and voices, a girlish giggle followed by a man’s deeper rumble.

“Sounds like we’re not the only ones with this idea,” Nina whispered.

Her hands were already on his waistband, fumbling for the zipper of his jeans. Her heart raced, and she felt light-headed with the thrill, the adrenalin surge almost familiar now.

He hastily shoved away her hands, loosening his jeans and pushing them down over his hips. He was commando beneath the jeans. She sucked in a breath as he reached for her. Out in the corridor there were more voices, two women now, a little loud, more than a little drunk. The sound of her zipper seemed amplified in the tiny space and she caught her lower lip in her teeth.

Dom didn’t pause. He pushed her jeans down, peeling them off her, baring her skin to the cool air. So much for sensible jeans, she should have worn a sensible, easy-access short skirt.

Then he lifted her off her feet, onto a pile of empty plastic packing crates she hadn’t even known was there, and spread her legs. His fingers followed the line of her lacy thong, brushing over her clit, and she had to bite her lip to hold back the whimper that threatened to escape.

Then his hands were gone, deserting her. She slid her own hand between her legs and pulled on the lace, rubbing it over her swollen clit. Not that she needed any more stimulation than the heat of his body so close to hers or the scent of his skin in the dark.

She heard the rip of a foil packet, followed by the rubbery snap and roll of latex as he sheathed himself. His hands found their way back to her hips, angling her against the crates, and his erection pressed against her stomach.

“We could get caught,” he whispered in her ear, leaning in close.

And she was as good as naked from the waist down. She shuddered. As if she needed the reminder. Nude pictures leaked on the net were not going to help her win the role of Sonia.

Yet the risk of what they were doing only made her hotter and wetter. These were the fantasies she’d played in her mind as she’d lain awake beside Paul, frustrated, unfulfilled.

Dom slid his erection between her legs, stroking over her core, teasing her, driving her wild. His hand stroked down over her stomach, over the swell of her mound, the feathery touch of his fingers over her clit drawing an involuntary moan from her. He fingered aside the scrap of lace. Then he was right there, his erection poised at her entrance.

As he thrust into her she bit her lip so hard to hold back the sound that she tasted blood. She was so wet for him that all it took was a shift of his hips and he was buried deep. His erection stretched her, massaged her. He drove deeper and deeper, his pace insistent and relentless. She braced her heels against the crates and opened herself up to him.

“I’m going to come,” he warned, his voice low and tense. She nodded, though she knew he couldn’t see. He hammered into her and her head rolled back against the wall as white-hot ecstasy slammed through her.

The pleasure was so intense she scarcely registered when he came inside her. His body shuddered, then stilled, and his head dropped to her shoulder. He placed a tender kiss on her neck before he pulled away.

So much for her elusive orgasm. There hadn’t even been any foreplay.

F…

Dom bit back a flood of swear words as he turned away from Nina to dispose of the condom. His eyes had grown accustomed to the dark, but he didn’t need to see to know that the freaking condom had torn.

He didn’t want to worry Nina right now. Later, or in the morning, maybe, when she was no longer under the influence of either lust or alcohol.

Maybe never. She didn’t need to know, did she?

Oh hell…

He groped for the pile of paper towels beside the work sink and handed her a few, grateful the darkness hid his panic. He cleaned himself up, tossed the paper towels in the open trashcan beneath the sink and zipped up his jeans. When he turned back she was still righting her clothing, pulling herself back together.

“We shouldn’t go back out there together,” she said. “I’ll go out first. You can follow in a few minutes.”

His chest tightened. He knew the score. He’d done this more times than he could count. In fact, he’d already banged at least one waitress in this very supply closet. That time, he’d had nothing to hide. They’d kept the lights on.

And that time he’d been more than happy to give her a head start.

But this time was different. This wasn’t some casual hook-up. This was Nina. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and hold her, enjoy a moment’s privacy before returning to a room of too-loud, too-drunk people.

He wanted to walk out there with her and be damned if anyone knew they were together.

She flicked her hair, then pushed the door wider and peeked out into the corridor. Without a backward glance, she stepped out and disappeared from sight.

He shut the door behind her again. This time he reached for the light switch and harsh fluorescent light flooded the tiny windowless room. He washed his hands at the sink, relieved there was no mirror because he couldn’t face his own reflection right now.

Maybe this hadn’t been such a great idea.

The waitress had walked out of here all too happy for the world to know who she’d been with and what had put that smile on her face.

But Nina had done what
he
usually did. Taken her pleasure, barely said thank you, and walked away. And he’d thought she wasn’t the casual-sex kind.

He ran his hands through his hair. He was getting too old for this shit. As his sisters often asked, when was he going to start growing up?

Perhaps he needed to start thinking with his brain and not his body. Perhaps it was time to start thinking about settling down and finding a woman to cuddle afterwards. A woman he didn’t have to worry about condoms with.

And thinking of condoms…

He splashed water on his face.

Not once in all these years had he experienced a condom fail. He’d heard that, statistically, there was a chance. But he’d had the luck of the Irish on his side. Until now.

He looked down at his hands where they gripped the steel edge of the sink, holding on as if afraid they might start shaking if he let go.

He had to tell her.

It was just the once. One teeny, tiny oops that would probably mean nothing in the big scheme of things, but still he had to tell her. With his history, she’d probably insist on getting tested, and he wouldn’t blame her.

He was definitely getting too old for this.

When he figured he’d given her a more than generous lead, he switched off the light, opened the door and made his way down the darkened corridor. In the archway to the main room of the pub he paused, leaning against the cool brick wall of the arch for a moment to watch the room.

Nina was back in the circle of his friends. Jacob hovered protectively at her side as she signed the bare chest of a flush-faced young man. She handed back the sharpie to his grinning mates, smiling and joking with them, calm and in control, and looking nothing like a woman who’d just been thoroughly screwed in the back room of a bar.

She shook her head when the young men held up their phones, no doubt asking for pictures. His body stilled, primed and ready to leap in and intercede, but there was no need. Jacob and Evan stepped forward on either side, flanking her, and the youths backed away. Even Vicki stood at attention. He loved his friends, trusted them with his life, trusted them to look after Nina, but he couldn’t stop the jealousy from surging. Looking after Nina was
his
job.

Not that she looked as if she needed any taking care of. She swayed to the music and laughed at something Vicki said. Not once did she look his way.

The one thing he hadn’t figured Nina for was cold. Yet it was as if she’d flicked a switch and become another person.

Who the hell was she anyway? She was like half a dozen women rolled into one. One moment she was fearless and determined, the next vulnerable and insecure, the next a fun and flirty seductress. He should have been pleased. He’d always said it would take more than one woman to keep him satisfied.

But he wasn’t satisfied.

Dom rubbed his face. Something had changed for him these past couple of weeks she’d been living in his house. He didn’t know what it was, but he didn’t think he could go back now to the way things were before.

He wanted more than sex. He wanted to get to know her. The real her, not the person she pretended to be for her public.

Jacob leaned in to hear Nina better. Evan handed her another beer. They’d fallen under her spell and he could hardly blame his friends for being entranced. After all, she’d entranced him, the man with the heart of stone.

But for Nina it seemed he was nothing more than a plaything, a sex object. A fun way to pass the time of her training before she took the next role and moved on. He’d thought she was different. How had he got her so wrong? Was his sixth sense for women failing him?

Neither Nina nor any of his friends noticed him. No one appeared to think that anything was amiss. And why would they?

The stunning A-list movie star and the damaged stunt man in the twilight of his career. Why would anyone think this relationship was going anywhere?

He was deluding himself thinking he could hold onto her. He needed to take a leaf from her book and keep this casual.

A brunette in a shorter-than-short denim skirt pushed past him, coming from the direction of the restrooms. He pushed himself away from the wall and crossed the room to his friends. Jacob glanced his way, so he held his head high, kept his stride firm, and bugger the constant ache in his hip.

He still had his pride.

As he joined their circle, Nina glanced at him, and it wasn’t the smoldering, unguarded Nina he’d woken beside these last weeks. The lust-crazed woman of minutes before was nowhere to be seen and he was demoted back to being her trainer, her buddy, like the BFF confidante in one of her rom-coms.

“One woman not enough for you?” Jacob asked, leaning in close and keeping his voice low. He inclined his head towards the brunette in the short denim skirt.

Dom’s jaw tightened. He couldn’t do this anymore. He needed to get out of here. He needed to get Nina out of here.

“We should be going,” he said to her. “You have another long day of training ahead tomorrow.”

She turned her dark, sultry eyes on him, pouting. “And I thought you knew how to play hard as well as work hard.”

Evan laughed. “When did you turn into such a wet blanket, Dom? You’re usually the hardest partier among us.”

“Tomorrow Nina starts a crash course in Krav Maga with Vicki.”

“Ah. Ouch.”

“What’s Krav Maga?” Nina asked.

“It’s an Israeli self-defense system that’s only one step removed from street fighting.” Jacob explained. “And Vicki is merciless. I still have bruises from the last time we choreographed a fight scene together.”

“Don’t scare her,” Vicki called across the circle. “That’s my job.”

“Too late. I’m already scared.” Nina laughed. “But shouldn’t Vicki also be getting an early night, then?”

Dom frowned. “Vicki’s a lot more used to alcohol than you are. It’s above my pay grade to be cleaning you up if you get sick.”

He cocked his head toward the door and Nina sighed dramatically. “I won’t be sick. I’m never sick. But I’ll be a good girl and go home to get a good night’s sleep.”

They said their goodbyes, then he escorted her back to the car, careful to keep his hands to himself. He was in enough trouble without touching her.

He held the car door open as she hopped in, then he circled around to the driver’s door, scowling at the group of smokers on the sidewalk who very clearly ogled Nina. He slammed the door shut and started the engine. He didn’t need to look to know that, tipsy as she was, she was fully aware of their audience. It had been evident in the added swing in her hips. His hands fisted.

“What’s going on with you tonight?” she asked, as they finally turned into the road behind his house. “You’re not usually this grumpy after sex.”

He didn’t look at her. “Maybe I’m not used to being treated as if I don’t exist after sex.”

“Poor dear, is your ego bruised? Your other women might not be so discreet, but you must realize I have to be.”

She didn’t have to sound so off-hand talking about his other women. Couldn’t she sound as if she cared? She was an actress, after all. The least she could do was pretend.

He sighed, letting go his tension. He’d liked that she didn’t play games, so what had changed? She was right. His ego had been bruised and he needed to let it go.

He parked in his garage and pressed the remote to shut the door behind them. When the door sealed shut he turned to her. “We have to talk about what happened.”

“We had a quickie. It was fun. What more is there to talk about?”

He pressed his lips together. He suspected she wasn’t going to be so flippant a moment from now. “The condom broke.”

Her eyes widened as she stared at him, very rapidly sobering up.

“Are you on the pill?” he asked.

She shook her head.

Damn.

“I won’t be offended if you want to take a test,” he said.

She nodded. “I guess I should ask Wendy to pick up some contraceptives for me. And maybe the morning-after pill. It wouldn’t be the first time she’s had to fake something to get a prescription for me.” She bit her lip, as if realizing she’d revealed more than she should.

“What else has she had to fake?” he asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

Nina shrugged, opened her car door and hopped out. “Nothing serious, but I can hardly leave the house with a big red nose and coughing and spluttering all over the place, so she gets my flu meds for me when I’m sick.” She grinned. “And condoms, tampons, prune juice…all the products I can’t be seen shopping for.” She hopped out the car and hung on the door a moment. “Let’s not worry about this. If anything happens, then we’ll deal with it. What are the chances, anyway?”

She didn’t really want an answer to that, did she? Clearly not, since she strode towards the house, head high, as if she didn’t have a care in the world. He followed more slowly, and she was already in the shower when he’d locked up and headed upstairs.

When Nina woke Sunday morning, head thumping, Dom had already left the bed. He’d drawn the curtains shut and she was grateful. She hadn’t really had that much to drink, had she? She tried to remember, but the evening was a blur. The only thing she remembered clearly was sex in the supply closet. And Dom’s bombshell afterward.

What were the chances of her getting pregnant? With the constant adrenalin rushes and physical battering her body was experiencing at the moment, it had to be about a million to one.

She found Dom in the kitchen cooking up a massive breakfast. In nothing but baggy track pants. Eye candy for breakfast. Yum. And no calories.

She perched on a kitchen stool, her chin cupped in her hands, and enjoyed the view of his to-die-for eight pack. Even better than his abs were his arms. She’d always loved a man with strong shoulders and arms. There was a feeling that those arms could hold her safe and keep the world away. Which was stupid, because it was nothing more than an illusion. Nothing could keep the bad shit away.

The man knew his way around the kitchen, too. The food his sisters provided didn’t go to waste.

Dom slid a plate in front of her, and then an espresso, but it was only as he started to dish fried eggs and sizzling sausages onto the plate that she truly woke up.

“I can’t!” she protested, trying ineffectually to hold her hands over the plate.

“You will.” He captured both her hands in one of his big ones and held them still while he added syrupy flapjacks to her plate. “You should look in the mirror sometime. You’re expending a lot of calories every day. If you don’t eat more you’re going to be too gaunt to play Sonia.”

“Never. The camera adds at least ten pounds.”

He frowned. “You’re a beautiful woman with a beautiful body. Why are you so hard on yourself?”

She bit her lip. This wasn’t something she usually needed to explain. “I wasn’t always one of the pretty girls. Halfway through high school I got the chance to change schools and I used the fresh start to re-invent myself. It felt so good, being the girl every guy in school wanted to date. Suddenly all the popular girls wanted to be my friend. I got used to guys whistling at me or men turning in the street to look at me. Aside from the fact that it was sometimes a little creepy, I liked it. I felt beautiful.”

His crooked grin appeared. “I can just imagine. That short cheerleading skirt, the tight, low-cut top…” His hand wandered up the inside of her thigh towards the edge of her sleep shorts and she slapped it away.

“I’m being serious! That feeling didn’t last long after I arrived here in LA. It was confusing because I didn’t think there was anything wrong with me, but suddenly everyone was telling me I wasn’t good enough. The other actresses were thinner than me, more perfect than me. I went to auditions and never got a callback. Over and over again, I was told I needed to pluck my eyebrows and whiten my teeth and lose 20 pounds. So I did, but it’s not like waving a magic wand. Curves are in my genes and I’m still bigger than most other actresses. I have to work hard to stay thin enough to keep working. Diets, fitness trainers, and weekly sessions at the spa. Do you have any idea how exhausting it is trying to be pretty in this town? Do you have any idea how hard it is to feel pretty when you’re up for the same roles as Anna Kendrick or Emma Stone?”