Follow My Lead (17 page)

“You know you’re killing me,” he ground out, “don’t you?”

“How?” she asked innocently, sucking only a few inches of him into her mouth and drawing back.

“You know how.”

She drew him into the wet heat of her mouth until she could take no more.

“Yes,” he groaned, his hand going to her head, urging her to keep going. “That’s good, baby.”

The endearment spoken so naturally made her heart flutter. The desperate need in his voice drove her crazy. She suckled him, her mouth and hand pumping him. Her other hand wrapped around him, using that rock-hard ass of his to steady herself. She wanted him to come, she wanted to know she’d taken this man to the brink.

Suddenly though, he pulled away from her.

“Enough,” he said. “Enough.” He was completely aroused, set on what he wanted. Before Darla could protest, he had lifted her and was carrying her to her bed. He placed her down on the navy blue-and-gray comforter and was on top of her in an instant, settling between her legs.

He rested his forehead against hers. “You smell good.”

She laughed. “You suddenly realize I smell good?”

“I always notice you smell good.” He smiled. “Now I know you taste good, too.”

Her fingers curled on his cheek, heat pooling low in her belly at the intimate words. “I’m not sure I know how to respond to that.”

“And that honest answer makes me want to ask you a very serious question.”

Her breath hitched and she tried to pull back to see his face. “What?”

“Please tell me you have condoms and they are nearby.”

Again, she found herself laughing. “Dresser drawer.”

He didn’t waste any time rolling off her to open the drawer. She scooted across the mattress, sliding up to his back as he held up the package. “Four,” he said, his tone suddenly gruff. “Why are there only four left?”

Darla barely contained her laughter as she reached over and snatched the condom packages from him, nibbling his shoulders in the process. “One is in my purse, silly man. I wanted to be prepared. I was seeing you, after all.”

He rolled over and pulled her on top of him. “Is that right?”

There was a possessive quality to his voice, and she liked it. “That,” she assured him, “is absolutely right.”

“So you thought we might—”

“Yes,” she admitted, tearing one of the condoms from the rest and opening it. “I told myself we wouldn’t do this tonight, that I should leave them all at home to be sure we didn’t.” She reached behind her and stroked his shaft, then raised and shifted her body so that she had better access. Wasting no time, she rolled the condom down the length of him—but not without sneaking in one last teasing lick.

“You’ll pay for that,” he promised, dragging her up his body, the V of her pelvis flattening on his hard length. He claimed her mouth, his tongue catching hers. His fingers glided over her clit, entering the ultrasensitive core of her body.

She couldn’t take it. “Blake, please.” She reached between them, fisted his shaft and pressed him inside her. Relief rushed from her lips as he sunk deep within her. “Finally.”

“Finally,” he agreed.

They stared at each other, both unmoving and breathing together almost as one. Emotion swelled her heart. That something she’d felt earlier was back, stronger than ever.

“I don’t know what you’re doing to me,” he said, repeating what he’d said before, what he’d said in the hotel in Denver. “But don’t stop. I like it, and us, way too much.”

“Me, too,” she agreed, a moment before his mouth closed down on hers. He shifted his hips and she felt him beginning a slow sway that sent sensations exploding inside her. Their rhythmic grind turned into a fierce, wicked passion, like nothing she’d ever experienced. Until they were not just moving together, but practically trying to crawl under each other’s skin. She didn’t want it to end, but it had to end. Nothing this good could last forever.

Too soon, she cried out as her body clenched around his cock, the spasms shaking her with such intense bliss it almost hurt. He thrust one last time with his fists pressed to the mattress beside her, his head thrown back and his face etched with pleasure.

She smiled, clinging to him, her teeth nibbling her bottom lip. Taking a risk, letting go of a little control, might not be so bad after all.

17

D
ARLA WOKE IN A DARK ROOM,
noting that she was alone. She felt across the bed, searching for Blake and not finding him. Her heart twisted in her chest, memories flooding her mind. This wasn’t how she thought the morning would turn out. Not after she and Blake had spent hours talking, exchanging stories about their families, their jobs, their likes and dislikes. And making love. There had been lots of wonderful lovemaking that had eventually led to raiding her empty fridge. Twinkies and Starbursts had been their only hope of nourishment, considering she’d been home so rarely and hadn’t bothered to stock up. It had been wonderful. She’d taken that risk with him, she’d dared to let herself be free with him. She’d fallen asleep, thinking that it had paid off with something special—that she and Blake had been special. Instead, he was gone without so much as a goodbye. Suddenly angry, Darla sat up, wearing nothing more than a T-shirt she’d put on when she’d gotten cold. It smelled of spicy cologne, of Blake. She’d trusted him, she’d—

“You’re up. I didn’t mean to wake you.” She blinked into the darkness at him, his silhouette starting to take shape. He was dressed, about to leave, apparently.

“Why are you skulking around in the dark?”

He crossed the small space to sit beside her, leaning in and kissing her, a warm caress of his mouth over hers. His hand smoothed her rumpled hair. “Because you have exactly fifteen minutes until your alarm goes off, cranky, and I wasn’t going to wake you for another seven so we could talk. I’d planned to have coffee in hand when I woke you, but it’s not quite ready.”

Her stomach rolled. “Talk?”

“Can I turn on the light?”

“If you don’t mind seeing me look like I just stuck my finger in the light socket, then go for it.”

He reached over and flipped the switch on the brown crystal lamp that had been her grandmother’s. A dim glow lit the room. Self-consciously, she brushed at her hair, not sure why she cared. If this talk was what she suspected, it didn’t matter how she looked anyway.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, settling down fully beside her.
He
was beautiful, she thought, with all that dark stubble shadowing his jaw, his hair tousled. This was a different Blake than the Mr.
GQ
the cameras saw. This was the Blake she’d come to know last night, the casual, sexy, wonderful man who loved his family, loved his life.

“I’m a wreck,” she blurted, and it wasn’t a counter to his compliment. She wasn’t talking about her looks. He was in his thirties, a bachelor who’d never been engaged, per his prior night’s confession. She had a feeling she was about to find out that was because he had a commitment phobia that matched her phobia of flying.

“You’re not a wreck,” he assured her, curling his hand around hers. “I wanted to talk to you about this before now, but time got away from me. Last night—”

“Was a mistake,” she supplied, the words exploding from her lips. “I get that. I understand. You don’t owe me—”

“Whoa!” he said, leaning back as if slapped. “What just happened? How did last night become a mistake? Because it sure as hell wasn’t for me.”

“It wasn’t?” she asked, confused, a tiny light of hope forming in her. “But I thought you…”

He arched a brow. “You thought I what?”

“That you were about to say that.”

He was still, his jaw set, hard. “Is that what you hoped I’d say?”

“No,” she said honestly, unwilling to talk in circles. She wanted to know where they stood. She couldn’t take any more uncertainty in her life right now. “You were just up and dressed and—”

He bent his head and kissed her, a tender swipe of his tongue against hers that sent a shiver of desire down her spine. “Do I seem like I think last night, or this morning, or anytime in the future for us, is a mistake?”

No. He didn’t. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, brushing her hand over his jaw. “Last night happened and now I fly out of town and it’s just confusing.”

He inched back to look into her eyes. “
Relationship,
Darla. We talked about us being at that place before I even decided to stay the night.”

He’s worth taking a risk for,
the voice in her head reminded her. “Yes,” she agreed. “Relationship.”

“Good,” he said, pressing his lips to her forehead, his fingers brushing a wild strand of her hair behind her ear. “Which brings me back to where I was a few seconds ago. Last night, when I was hailing cabs for the group to leave the restaurant, Meagan told me that she knows we have something going on, and she’s fine with it, with one condition.”

“A condition,” Darla repeated, her stomach knotting up all over again. She had conditions left and right, and conditions from Meagan were big, because, friend or not, Meagan was her boss.

“This new advertising campaign is being built on the two of us being ratings enemies. The studio is spending a fortune on it and they expect people to be intrigued by our dynamics. Some will watch to see us do battle. Others will hope we end up right where we have. The good news is that us being seen together isn’t an issue. It feeds speculation. Being seen together in a way that makes our real relationship obvious is trouble, though, for the show—and trouble for us. We can’t let the cast or crew know we’re together. It’s too risky. People sell things to the tabloids.”

Darla wasn’t surprised that Meagan supported their relationship after their talk in Denver, nor was she surprised about the concerns. “She’s trying to protect the show. I understand that.”

“I understand, as well, because she really did dive in headfirst into making us a ratings grabber for the season. Ultimately, it’s exposure for us both. We have to show gratitude for it by making it work. When this season ends, however, we’ll have to make it clear we’re going public with our feelings.”

“Next season?” she asked, shocked that he was planning so far in advance.

He wrapped her in his arms. “Next season,” he repeated. “Because I’m pretty sure you’re going to make me fall in love with you long before that.”

“Love?” she murmured, her heart pounding in her chest. Blake thought he was falling in love with her. “Did you say—”

“Love,” he said. “Yes. Do you have a problem with that?”

“No,” she replied hoarsely, “I don’t have a problem with it at all, actually. But isn’t it early to say that?”

“I’m thirty-two years old,” he said, “and I’ve never once used that word with a woman. I don’t think I’d call it rushing.”

“Never?” she asked. “Not with anyone?”

“Never.”

“Not even close?”

He hesitated. “Once. I was young and it’s a long story for another time.”

“The person who burned you,” she said softly, trying not to push. She saw the tension shudder through him and she laid her hand on his leg. “You don’t have to answer.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to tell you. It’s just not for here and now. I should leave before you do to avoid any prying eyes. That’s why I got dressed while you were sleeping.”

She shook her head. “I’m not pressuring you.”

“I know,” he said, cupping her face. “And I appreciate that.” He studied her. “What about you? Ever say ‘I love you’ to a man?”

“There was a college boyfriend I thought I might be headed there with, but it turned out he was headed there with several women who thought the same thing.” That was when she’d really learned just how bad a judge of men she really was. But she didn’t want regrets or fears to make her lose Blake. If she got hurt, she got hurt. “No one since then. I quickly learned this business is full of men with agendas and I didn’t want to be with anyone like that.” She pressed her lips to his, knowing the truth—she was falling in love for the first time in her life. “No one until you.”

His eyes darkened, his fingers tangled in her hair as he reclaimed her mouth, his tongue brushing hers with tender, passionate strokes that had Darla sighing with the goodness of it—of them, of this new relationship. She was even beginning to think that maybe, just maybe, she and Blake could find that something special that lucky couples, like both her parents and his, shared. And all they had to do to claim their prize was survive the rest of the season.

* * *

T
WO HOURS LATER,
Darla had showered and dressed in a cotton peasant blouse and soft faded jeans for travel to a series of audition stops that would include Boston and Dallas, then on to Houston. Lugging her carry-on bag in front of her, Darla rushed down the center aisle of the plane to find Meagan, looking panicked, leaning over her armrest to watch for fellow passengers. “I thought you were going to miss the flight,” she said, standing up to let Darla slide into the seat by the window.

“Sorry,” Darla said. “I couldn’t get a cab.” She shoved her bag under the seat. “But never fear, I’m here, ready to make your travel experience a memorable one.” And tired. So very tired.

“Long night?” Meagan asked, resnapping her seat belt into place.

Darla’s cell phone buzzed and she dug it out of her purse before snapping her own seat belt into place. “I could have used a little more sleep, but then, who couldn’t, right?” She glanced down at the text from Blake on her phone.
Did you make it?
Darla replied with
Barely.
He replied with
Pull the shade down.
She replied with
No.
He answered
Yes.
She smiled.

“Blake?”

Darla’s head jerked up at the question. “What?”

“Are you texting with Blake?” Meagan asked, a smile playing on her lips. “Come on. I know you two have a thing going on.”

Darla let out a breath. “I don’t know how this happened.”

“I didn’t with Sam, either,” she said. “Actually,” she lowered her voice. “I thought I’d just have a hot night and get him out of my system. That didn’t go as planned.”