Hollywood Blackmail (11 page)

He grinned, an almost boyish look crossing his face. “Oh you mean the Red River audition? Yeah, it’s for Tom Christiansen, an awesome director with lots of indie cred. He hates A-listers and actors who draw attention to themselves, though, so that’s why I’ve been on the straight and narrow for the past six months.”

She leaned an elbow on the table. “What’s so important about this movie?”

“It’s not action, for a start.”

“What?” She widened her eyes in mock horror. “No fights? No guns?”

He laughed. “Nope. It’s a straight-out drama.”

Intriguing. Very intriguing. “That’s a change, isn’t it?”

“It is, but I want to do more than shoot bad guys. I want to do something different, extend myself. Take on new challenges.” He held his wineglass between long fingers, toying absently with it. “And to be honest, the whole party-hard lifestyle is getting old. It was fun when I was younger but nowadays it just seems a bit sad.”

She remembered him like this. When he talked about his dreams of getting out of the projects, of having a better life. Stars in his eyes. He’d been so charismatic it had made her want to follow him to the ends of the earth.

Except you didn’t.

No, she didn’t want to think about that now. This was about the present, not the past.

“Especially for an old and staid thirty-one-year-old,” she said, grinning.

“You know it, sugar.” His smile was infectious. “So, would you like to join this old man in the cinema by any chance or would you prefer dessert first?”

“Seems ridiculous to have to choose when we could do both.”

“I like your thinking, Coco. I like it very much indeed.”

Ash’s private cinema was downstairs in a discreetly lit room with black-paneled walls and dark-charcoal carpet. The space was dominated by a huge sectional black velvet sofa with lots of cushions in various shades of blue.

It was quietly, fantastically luxurious, especially with the bottle of champagne cooling in an ice bucket and a small table off to one side covered with a couple of bowls of popcorn and the promised desert Ash had brought down —a big glass bowl of fruit salad and chocolate dipping sauce.

“This is incredible,” Lizzie said as she settled onto the huge sofa. “I love it.”

He looked pleased with himself as he picked up a complicated-looking remote and dimmed the lights. “Naturally. I designed it myself. Now, the movie we’ll be playing tonight is…” He paused for obvious effect.

Lizzie rolled her eyes. “Come on, don’t keep me in suspense here.”

“Wuthering Heights.”

The warm glow sitting in her stomach began to glow brighter still. “You remembered that, too?”

“It came back to me, yes. I didn’t know which version you wanted so I got the lot.”

She laughed. “You’re kind of crazy, you know that?”

He came and sat next to her, sprawling in that long-legged, fluid way of his. Not too close and yet not too far away, either. Enough to feel his warmth. And want more…

“Like I said, this night’s for you. You get to have whatever you want.”

You. I want you.

The thought came from nowhere and yet it was as if it had always been there. As if it had been sitting in her mind all this time, waiting for her to notice it.

She stilled, her heart racing.

Ash didn’t notice, pressing a button on the remote so the curtains around the cinema screen opened. Then he gave an ostentatious yawn and stretched his arms above his head, before bringing them down, one along the back of the sofa behind her in a classic guy date-night move.

His eyes glinted, his mouth turning up in a smile. Acknowledging his own ridiculousness. “Sorry. But you can’t blame a guy for trying.”

Suddenly she couldn’t breathe for the desire and desperate, bone-shaking need that flooded through her. The blackmail didn’t matter. Her job didn’t matter. The fact that he was a major Hollywood star didn’t matter.

The only thing that mattered was that he was here and she’d been so long without him.

Too long.

He was right. It was time to put the past behind her once and for all. Reclaim what her mother had taken from her. Move forward.

Ash frowned, concern crossing his features. “Hey, what’s up? You don’t want to watch a movie after all?”

She couldn’t speak. Instead she lifted a hand to his face, cupping his strong jaw in her palm, feeling the heat of him seep into her, and leaned forward, brushing her mouth over his.

He froze, as though she’d turned him to stone. “Lizzie…,” he whispered against her lips. “What are you doing?”

“This.” She pressed into him, putting her other hand on the hard, flat plane of his chest, opening her mouth, touching her tongue to his lips, tasting him.

His big body was motionless. “Lizzie…” Her name was a groan. “God… Please don’t say this is a joke.”

“You said nothing would happen unless I want it. Well, I want it.” She didn’t wait for a response, leaning in to kiss him again, tracing the line of his lower lip with her tongue before coaxing his mouth open, exploring. He tasted like she remembered, hot and sweet and intoxicating. She’d used to get drunk on his kisses and maybe she was drunk now. If so, to hell with it. This was what she wanted. What she’d been waiting eleven lonely years for.

And she was so over with pulling back.

He gripped her chin while the fingers of his other hand tangled in her hair, tugging her away. The look on his face was fierce, a dark burning fire in his eyes.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, his voice rough. “Because if you say yes I don’t know…Christ, Lizzie. I’ve been waiting for you for so long. I’m not sure I’m going to be able to hold back.”

“I don’t want you to,” she whispered. “Kiss me, damn you.”

He didn’t wait. The fingers in her hair tightened as he tipped her head back, then his mouth covered hers and everything changed.

The kiss was hot, raw, deep, and passionate. Her hands curled into his chest, gripping tightly to his shirt as he explored her mouth, desperate as a man dying of thirst is desperate for water. Something thumped onto the floor but she didn’t take any notice of what it was. That wasn’t important. What was important was that Ash was kissing her and it was so good. So incredibly good.

A dark, sensual feeling uncurled inside her, making her want to grip him harder, press herself against him, tear away the clothing between them so they were skin to skin, nothing between them.

Ash leaned against the back of the couch, hauling her into his arms so she lay half on top of him, the length of his hard, muscled body burning through the thin cotton of her dress. One strong hand settled at the base of her spine, urging her hips against his, and the breath went out of her as the heated length of his erection pressed between her thighs.

Ah, yes, she remembered that. Remembered how big he’d been and how hot. How it had felt to have him inside her…

She moaned against his mouth and tilted her hips, pressing herself harder against him, seeking friction to ease the desperate ache that was slowly building inside, unstoppable and hungry.

“Jesus…Lizzie-girl….” He sounded breathless, his breathing ragged. “We should slow this down…”

Was he serious? “No. It’s been too long. I need you…God, I need you so much.”

“I don’t want…I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.” She moved her hips again, shivering as he shifted beneath her in answer, the hard ridge between her thighs pressing more firmly against her. “Please…Ash….”

He was still a moment, staring up at her, the look on his face so hungry and fierce she almost couldn’t breathe.

Then he moved, one arm coming hard around her waist and turning her so she lay on the couch beneath him, his big body over hers. Covering her, surrounding her. Overwhelming her.

He reached for the zipper of her dress, pulled it down, and she didn’t miss the way his hand shook as he did so or fail to notice the tension that was almost making the big body above her vibrate. He eased her dress down, taking with it her bra and her panties, so carefully. Tenderly.

Her heart thundered in her ears, a tight, frantic beat. She remembered how he’d done this for her the last time, with the same care. The same tenderness. She’d been a virgin then, trembling and hesitant and sick with nerves. But she wasn’t now. Oh no, she most definitely wasn’t now.

She lay beneath him, and even though she was utterly naked and he was fully dressed, she didn’t feel vulnerable this time. Because the way he looked at her, as if she contained all the secrets in the universe, made her feel more powerful than she’d ever felt in her whole damn life.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said in a choked voice. “I never forgot. Never.” The lines of his face were drawn tight, his breathing fast.

“Touch me,” she murmured. “Please…I want you to.”

He obeyed, gently cupping one bare breast, his thumb circling her aching nipple. She shuddered against him, arching into his hand, a tight knot of sensation gathering between her thighs. God, he had to keep touching her. Had to.

Ash bent his head, touching his tongue to her nipple, teasing her. Then he took the hard bud into his mouth and she groaned, every single nerve ending she had igniting at the exquisite pressure. While he sucked on her, he stroked a hand down her stomach, then eased farther down, between her thighs.

Electricity arced the entire length of her body as his fingers slid through her curls, brushing her clit with aching gentleness. She gasped, shuddering, then moaned aloud as he stroked the folds of her sex before easing a finger inside her, sliding in deep.

Their first night together, she’d tried to stifle the noises she’d made, terrified someone would hear them. But there was no one around now. No one else to hear. So she didn’t hold back, the sounds of pleasure spilling out of her. “Oh…God…” Her breathing loud in the thick silence of the room. “Ash…please…I can’t….”

“Let me do this for you,” he said hoarsely. “Let me give you what you need.” Another finger slid into her and the pleasure intensified, gripping her so tightly she could hardly breathe. “Ash,” she gasped out. “Ash…”

“Hold on to me, sugar. Don’t let me go.”

She wrapped her arms around him, turned her face into his neck as his fingers moved inside her, driving her over the edge. At the last moment he turned his head and covered her mouth, taking her desperate cry into his mouth as the pleasure became all too much and she shattered completely in his arms.

Lizzie kept her eyes closed for a second, the sound of her furious heartbeat drowning out every other sound. Staying still seemed an excellent solution when one had had all one’s bones removed.

After a moment, she opened her eyes. Met his. There was so much hunger burning in the black depths. So much desire. But he didn’t move, his hard, hot body motionless above hers.

He’d held himself back. Given her what she’d wanted first.

“Tell me what you want.” His voice sounded cracked. “Whatever you want, I’ll do it.”

“You,” she said hoarsely. “I want you.”

He pushed himself up from her, not taking his gaze from hers as he began to undress with shaking hands. Pulling off his shirt and tie, ditching his trousers, all his clothing landing in a heap on the floor.

Lizzie’s mouth went dry as he took off the last articles of clothing. He was all cut, hard muscle and tanned skin. The swirl of his tattoo only accentuating the muscularity of his chest and biceps. Dear Lord. He was even better in real life than the couple of naked-butt shots she’d seen in his latest movie.

He bent and picked up his wallet up from the floor, extracting a foil packet. Then he knelt between her thighs, ripping open the packet and sheathing himself. He didn’t speak but that was okay. She knew the desperation he felt.

He moved, easing inside of her, and she gasped at the sensation, arching back on the couch. “Look at me,” he said roughly. “Please… Don’t close your eyes.”

So she looked at him, not taking her gaze from his, shivering as he eased deeper. It had been a long time since she’d had sex last but her body still remembered, stretching to accommodate him. God, he felt so…right. So perfect. Like that first time. When he’d shown her how good sex could be. Made her feel beautiful. Special. She’d never felt so connected to a person as she had in that moment. A connection she knew she’d been searching for ever since and yet never found.

Until now.

Their gazes locked and held. He moved deeper still, his hands gripping her hips, holding on to her as if he never intended to let her go.

Her throat constricted, shivers chasing each other over her skin, pleasure unwinding through her as he began to move in a slow, sensual rhythm that had her gasping.

“I’ve been wanting this for so long,” he whispered. “Tell me how good I make you feel. How much you missed me. How much you wanted me all this time.”

The words came easily and she didn’t want to hold them back. They were the truth after all. “So good, Ash… I missed you so much… I wanted you so badly…”

“Tell me again,” he ordered. “I want it all. Now.”

And she did. She couldn’t help herself, the words spilling out of her. Telling him how good he felt. How amazing. How incredible. Because he was all of those things and she couldn’t hide them anymore.

He growled in approval, the dark fire in his eyes holding her captive as much as his fingers around her wrists. And when the pleasure building inside her became too much, too sharp, he let go of her hands and gathered her up in his arms, holding her tightly against him as she cried out, the whole universe bursting and shattering behind her eyes. Then she collapsed against his chest, feeling him move harder and faster as he chased his release, the breath leaving her body as he found it, a hoarse cry escaping him, his arms locked around her like a vise.

Chapter Eight

Lizzie moved first, her hands pressing like hot coals against his chest. But he didn’t want to move. She felt too good to let go.

Never going to let her go again.

The thought slid into his postorgasmic brain so easily that he didn’t even question it. Just held her tight, the scent of sex and her own sweet smell an intoxicating combination.

“Hey,” she muttered. “You’re heavy.”

He rolled over onto his back, taking her with him so she lay on his chest. Her face was pink, her hair in a messy auburn tangle all over her pale shoulders, her mouth full and red. Beautiful. Just beautiful.

She folded her hands, laying them on his chest, then rested her chin in them and smiled at him. “That was…intense.”

“As good as you remembered?”

“No.”

“Hey—”

“It was better.”

Warmth expanded inside him. Yeah, it had been. So much better than it had been with anyone else in possibly…ever.

Are you sure that’s what you want? Because it’s not like this is going to go anywhere, right?

The thought wound an unwelcome tendril of ice through his postcoital glow.

Lizzie brows twitched. “What’s wrong?”

No, this moment was good. This moment was perfect and he didn’t want it being disturbed with thoughts of the future and what would happen next. So he smiled. “Nothing. I’m going to have to move you. Man stuff to deal with.” Shifting her off him, he gave her another kiss. “Give me two seconds. Oh, and you are under strict instructions not to get dressed while I’m gone, okay?”

She flushed. “It’s going to get a little cold.”

“Leave your clothes alone.”

She raised a brow but didn’t protest. When he came back from the bathroom a minute later, though, he found her curled up on the couch wearing his shirt.

He folded his arms. “I thought I told you not to get dressed.”

“You told me to leave my clothes alone. You didn’t say anything about yours.”

“Sneaky, Lizzie-girl. And yet I’m not unhappy with this notion. You look goddamn sexy in my shirt.”

It was massive on her, the sleeves having to be rolled right up, the hem coming to mid-thigh, and yet so sexy. He liked that she was wrapped up in something of his. As if she belonged to him somehow.

He’d never thought of himself as a possessive kind of man when it came to women. Normally he had no problem with leaving them or them leaving him. He had no claim on anyone and he was happy with that. But Lizzie had always been his exception.

When he’d met her he’d had nothing that was truly his. Everything he did was for his family, from his work as a security guard to the fights he went to at night. Hell, his whole freaking life was for other people. Then he’d met her and for the first time in his life, he had something he didn’t have to give away to other people. Lizzie was just for him. Only for him.

That feeling hadn’t ever gone away. It was the whole reason she was here in the first place. Lizzie was his and he wasn’t going to let her get away. At least not for the immediate future.

“Well, thank you.” She wrinkled her nose and cast a glance at the table. “Is it dessert time yet, do you think?”

They ate fruit salad on the massive couch, with Lizzie lying back in his arms as he fed her small bites of strawberry dipped in chocolate, her warm weight against him the best feeling he’d had since forever.

“What made you change your mind?” he asked as he collected some blueberries on a spoon for her. “About sleeping with me?”

“I don’t recall any sleeping, do you?”

He held the spoon just out of her reach. “Be serious, otherwise you don’t get any blueberries.”

“Gimme the blueberries, then I’ll tell you.”

“No way. Tell me first.”

She gave a theatrical sigh. “Okay, fine. I thought you were right about letting Mom and that hideous show get to me. That it was time to reclaim what should have been ours.”

“I’m glad.” He let her have her blueberry reward. “And not only because it benefited me.”

She hit him on the arm. “Oh sure, like I believe that.”

“Hey, come on, it’s true.”

Lizzie settled back against him. “I know it’s true. You let me make the first move and…I appreciate that.”

“You will never know how hard that was.”

“I have some idea.” She gave a little wiggle, her butt pressing against his groin, and he had to suck in a breath.

“If you want more fruit salad, I suggest you stop doing that.”

“Spoilsport.”

Another comfortable silence fell.

The musky scent of sex and Lizzie’s flower smell filled the air, her hair all over his bare chest. The warmth of her between his thighs was so good. Having her here was so good.

“Why didn’t you stay?” he asked before he could stop himself. “Why didn’t you talk to me before you left?”

She tensed. “I thought I explained. I didn’t want you to find me.”

“A note, Lizzie. That’s all you left. You don’t think I deserved a face-to-face chat?”

“You would have stopped me. And I didn’t want you to.”

“I might have gone with you, didn’t you ever think of that?”

She eased away from him, shifting over to lean against the back of the couch instead, leaving a cold empty space where she’d been. “I thought we talked about this,” she said. “You wanted that fight scene job. Wanted to get into the industry. That’s not what I wanted and I couldn’t ask you to make that choice.”

“I could have found a way to make it work.”

Lizzie let out a long breath and picked up a cushion, holding it in her lap. “It wouldn’t have worked, Ash. You know it wouldn’t have. The movie industry consumes people. It consumed Mom. I didn’t want to have anything more to do with it.”

A heavy silence fell.

Then he couldn’t be silent anymore. “If you’d wanted to be with me enough, we could have made it.”

She didn’t look at him, her gaze on the cushion she held like a shield in front of her. “Do we really have to talk about this now?”

“You promised me answers.”

“Why? What does it matter?”

“Because it’s a question I’ve been wanting to know the answer to for a long time and now that you’re here, I want to hear it.”

She was silent, still staring down at the cushion, her whole posture tense.

But then, he knew the answer already, didn’t he? He’d known it for the past eleven years. “You didn’t want it to work, did you?” he answered for her. “You didn’t want me enough to try.”

For a long moment he didn’t think she’d reply. Then she said, her voice hoarse, “I was afraid. The day after the episode screened and the press were crazy, I tried to get in touch with my father but he didn’t want to see me.”

“Your dad?” He frowned. “But I thought he left before you were born?”

“He did. Mom met him just as her career was starting to take off. He didn’t like what she was doing but she wanted the attention. Liked being famous. So she ignored him. I found out who he was and…” She paused, then cleared her throat. “He didn’t want to see me. I told him I had nothing to do with Mom’s show but obviously he didn’t believe me. He told me he’d made his decision years ago.”

Ash didn’t say anything, watching her. He wanted to pull her into his arms, hold her, but the tension coming from her held him still. “It hurt,” she said after a moment. “To Mom I was just some kind of accessory, an experiment she decided she wanted to try. A pain in the ass when I got in the way of her career. And Dad… He didn’t want me at all.” She took a breath. “There was nothing for me at the mansion. Nothing but more of the same. I was useful to Mom when I was part of the show but ignored when I wasn’t. It was just so…lonely. And I wanted more than that. I wanted to feel I made a difference to someone. So…I left. “

“I wish you could have talked to me, Lizzie.”

Slowly, she lifted her head, her eyes dark in the dim light of the cinema. “I didn’t want to talk to you. I didn’t want you to try to get me to stay. You had different dreams from mine and I…couldn’t compromise mine for yours.”

It still hurt, even though he knew why she’d gone, why she thought she’d had no option. “I told you I loved you back then. Well, I did. I would have done anything for you. To make what we had work.”

The look in her eyes flickered, sharp pain in them. “I’m sorry, Ash,” she said.

“I was so angry when I got that note,” he went on, because he had to say it. “I tore it up into a thousand pieces. You wanted me to respect your privacy, so I did. I told myself you could go to hell and stay there. I wasn’t coming for you.” He paused. “But I never forgot you. Never ever.”

Lizzie blinked, the sheen of moisture in her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she repeated again. “I’m…just so sorry.”

He couldn’t stop himself from reaching for her now, pulling away the cushion and hauling her into his arms, kissing her mouth, her jaw. “I swore I wasn’t going to let you ruin my life,” he murmured, lips brushing the side of her throat. “I told myself I was going to be a success. The biggest damn success the world had ever seen. So that there would be billboards everywhere with me on them. In the papers. In the magazines. In the theaters. Everywhere. So I would be everywhere you looked. So you’d never escape me.”

She shivered. “Ash…”

“I didn’t want you to ever forget me. Just like I never forgot about you.”

“I never forgot.” Her voice sounded rusty and thick. “I went to every one of your movies. Read every article I could get my hands on. I…missed you.”

A deep, savage satisfaction turned over inside him at that. Good, he was glad she’d missed him. Glad she’d thought about him. “And did you ever regret leaving me?”

Her palms pressed hard against his chest, holding her away a little. “No,” she said and this time she didn’t look away. “I don’t regret it. It was the right decision for me at the time. I couldn’t have given you what you wanted anyway. And if I hadn’t left….” She didn’t finish the sentence but then he knew what she didn’t say.

If she hadn’t left he perhaps wouldn’t be where he was now.

…

Lizzie pressed her palms against his chest. She felt torn open. Vulnerable in a way she hadn’t been, even naked in his arms. She hated the pain in his eyes and hated that she’d caused it.

Yes, she’d left him. He’d loved her but still she’d run, because she’d been scared that when it came to the choice between her and his dreams, his choice wouldn’t have been her.

And right then, after her father’s rejection, a rejection from Ash would have been too much.

Even now, even after what he’d told her, she still didn’t believe he would have chosen her. Which meant the only thing she could do was to keep moving forward. Keep moving away

“So,” she said when he didn’t say anything. “Where do we go from here?”

Something glinted in his eyes, a spark of anger. Then it was gone. “I’m not going back to not touching you. Not after this.” His arms tightened around her. “You’re here for two weeks so that’s what I want. You and I together in every possible way.”

Her heart shuddered in her chest, foreboding winding through her. Could she do that? Then again, how could she refuse? She’d had a taste of him, a reminder of how they’d been together, and going back to having nothing again was…God, too bleak to contemplate.

It will hurt when you have to leave.

Yes, it would. But if that was the price she paid for having two weeks of him, then she’d pay it. She had to have something to take with her when she went back to her own life again.

“Okay,” she said huskily. “Two weeks.”

He slid his hands beneath the shirt she wore, sliding them over her bare butt and gripping her gently, pulling her right up close. Desire began to rise again, making her breathless, making her ache. She flexed her fingers against the warm, brown skin of his chest in a light caress.

“Good. And I want this,” he murmured. “You in my bed.”

As if she’d say no. “Okay.”

His hands slipped lower, stroking the backs of her thighs, the tips of his fingers sliding between to lightly brush the slick folds of her sex. She shivered, her stance altering, leaning in a little to give him better access.

“No more distance, Lizzie,” he said softly. “Not again.” He changed his hold, one hand settling in the small of her back, holding her hard against his groin, while he let the other roam. Up under the shirt she wore, over the curve of her hip, the trembling plane of her stomach, up to cup the heavy softness of her breast.

“Yes.” She could barely get the word out.

But obviously that wasn’t satisfying to him because he took her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pinching her gently, and yet with enough force that pleasure was a lightning strike through her body. “Say it.”

“N-no distance,” she gasped. “I promise.”

“Look at me and say it.” Another pinch.

She obeyed, meeting his eyes. “No distance, Ash. I promise.”

“Good. Because I won’t let you shut me out. If you want this, want me touching you, me inside you, then it’s all or nothing.”

Of course it would be. Ash had never done half measures, not in any way.

She drew in a ragged breath. “Yes.” Her hands moved on his chest, stroking him, heat spiraling through her veins. The subtle press of his hips against hers making her ache, the dampness between her thighs becoming slick. “But after the two weeks is up, I leave.”

Desire glittered in his eyes. “Leave?”

“When your treatment is up, that’s the end. We don’t see each other after that.”

Will you even be able to leave?

But she pushed the thought out of her head. She couldn’t stay with him. She’d fought for too long for her anonymity to give it all up for life in the full glare of the Hollywood spotlight, and she couldn’t do it. Not even for him.

“Sure,” he said, the edge of roughness creeping into his voice. “When you’re gone, it’s over.” Gently he eased her away and she watched as he reached over the side of the couch to where his wallet lay on the floor, extracting another condom, ripping open the packet and protecting himself.

Then he sat back on the couch. “I want to do it my way now. You okay with that?”

Excitement crowded in her throat. “Yes,” she croaked.