Hollywood Hot Mess (20 page)

“Damn it, Carly! So help me...” His voice trails off and he
punches an arm into the darkness beside him, connecting with the desk lamp and
sending it clattering to the floor. I flinch and close my eyes, shrinking from
him.

“Because I thought you had abandoned me, too!” I yell, finally
finding the anger that always frees me. My chest heaves, but god it feels
amazing to get it out.

The room is still and quiet. Nothing moves. Silent seconds tick
by. I crack one eye open. The candle’s orange flicker licks the contours of his
face. He stares at me impassively. Not the look a girl who’s just confessed her
true feelings ever wants to see.

“You didn’t care that my agent turned it all on you? Ruined you
like that?” He stands up and leans back on the sill, grabbing my legs and
spinning me around so I have to face him.

I shake my head and rub my cheek against my shoulder, unable to
look at him. Of course I didn’t care. He drags his hands over his lips and turns
away from me. On second thought he turns back, grabs the vodka bottle and then
walks over to the bed. He shakes his head and sits down. The springs groan under
his weight.

“There’s nothing left to ruin, Devon.” I stifle a laugh,
because the difference in elevation between my career and his is like the peak
of Kilimanjaro and the bottom of the Grand Canyon. “I’ve done that all on my
own.”

The candle flickers over his twisted features and I want more
than anything to rewind everything and erase the past few days. Take us back to
the island, or the night we almost made love on a frozen tabletop. Anything but
this.

“We can’t do this, Carly.” His words slice through my heart
like a rusted razor blade. I can’t breathe. I can’t think. “It’s not worth it
for either one of us. We both have way too much to lose and this is obviously
going beyond the whole no-strings-attached thing.” He unscrews the cap and takes
another swig of vodka. I mentally bitch-slap myself, knowing if I don’t do
something he’s going to walk out that door. And if he walks out that door there
is nothing, and I mean
nothing
, to keep me from
sailing out the window.

“You honestly think I give a shit about all this?” My hands fly
through the air, and I’m so numb they shake like brittle tree limbs. “What more
could I possibly lose? Without this movie...” Words catch in my throat, but I
don’t pause long enough to wuss out. “Without you, I have nothing.” And it’s the
truth. His head flies up and he grimaces like he may be feeling one-tenth of the
same regret. He drags a hand through his hair again and shoves off the bed,
resting his arms beside me and staring out the window.

Seconds pass like hours. I’m in free fall—waiting to see if I
will hit rock bottom or if he will catch me.

“I can’t make you any promises about us.” He looks back to me.
My chest hollows in fear when I see how empty his eyes are. “But I can promise
you if America ever found out about us we would lose everything.” He nods his
head and his eyes pierce into mine to emphasize his point. “Is that what you
want? Do you want me to lose everything?”

I shake my head nervously and scan his face.

“No,” I whisper. Of course I don’t want him to lose everything
because of me.

But I don’t want to lose him either.

He leans into me, just inches away, knowing exactly what he
does to me. Watching the delicious torture play out on my face as I relish the
electricity shooting between us like a live wire. I’m sitting on my hands to
keep them off him. Why is he doing this to me? Do I listen to his words or to
his body—because they are saying two totally different things right now.

“I should leave.” His vodka-soaked whisper wafts over me, which
only makes me crave his kisses even more.

“No.” I turn my head to his. The nearness of his lips makes
mine tremble. God, I need this man. I sit frozen, eyes closed, wishing he would
put his hands on me, his lips on me, anything on me. He smells divine—like sex
and vodka. The heat of his body is decadent, causing sweat prickles under the
heft of my hair.

“What do you want, Carly?” His breath is whisper soft on my
face. His lips brush my cheek. A million sparks sear my skin. Once again I’m
completely undone by this gorgeous sex god of a man. I lean into him. He catches
my shoulders and pulls me against his chest. His eyes are two burning,
bottomless blue pools.

“You.”

I expect my answer to spur him into action. Into a wild frenzy
where he rips my panties off and takes me. But he doesn’t. He closes his eyes
like my answer hurts him in some unfathomable way and leans back, obviously
weighing whether or not this is worth it. Whether
I’m
worth it.

I’m losing him. I know I am. Him walking out of this room and
disappearing from my life is not an option.

My insides twist in a tortuous way and a needy-sounding whimper
escapes from somewhere high in my throat. He can’t leave me.

His eyes remain closed, head hanging down, like maybe if he
doesn’t see me he won’t want me. Yet, he hasn’t left me either. It’s all the
encouragement I need.

Silently, I slip from the frozen windowsill. Numbly, my fingers
pull the hem of my camisole up and over my head. Blond waves of hair pull away
from my body and then spill over my shoulders to the small of my back. Devon
stirs before me when the fragrance of my bare skin fills the small space between
us. I say nothing, tossing the thin black camisole on the chair over his heavy
leather coat.

His pained expression is immediately sobered when he sees the
rosebud-red circles of my nipples, tightening in the window’s draft. I have
beautiful breasts. He’s told me that. They’re round and full, milky white, and
real. I bet he hasn’t made love to a woman with real breasts in years.

My black lace panties stay on...for now. He hasn’t backed away
from me. He hasn’t tried to stop me. If I can get him in my mouth, he won’t be
able to. No man would...not even Devon Hayes.

I sink to my knees, keeping his eyes locked with mine the
entire time. He puts his hand over mine when I reach for his belt buckle. It
tenses, and I pause, worrying he may stop me. His hand closes around mine. He
only lets out an agonized moan. A moment later he closes his eyes and his hand
falls away.

I make quick work of his belt buckle and pull his jeans down to
his ankles. He’s already hard when my fingers sweep over the front of his gray
boxer briefs. I lick the smile twisting my lips. This is where I start my
kisses, gently nipping up his shaft with the cotton still between us. I flick my
tongue into the opening and hit the silken skin of his erection. He cries out
like a wild beast when I make contact. His fingers fist in my hair and he’s
practically forcing his dick in my mouth. He’s had enough teasing. Time to go in
for the kill.

I catch the waistband of his underwear between my teeth and
slowly pull down, being sure to let my lips and nose graze his body in all the
right places. He grunts and practically bends down to the floor with me, his
body so electrified by my touch, not wanting my mouth to leave his crotch for a
second.

I kiss back up his legs. He’s panting by the time I make it
back to his dick. Without warning I take him in my mouth, lips wrapped around my
teeth, and suck him so far down he pulses against the back of my throat. I
swallow, letting the gentle wave of muscles flow over his length, and then pull
back. Teasing the tip, flicking my tongue over it and sucking on the helmet
head. He tightens his fistful of hair and I cry out in pain.

Immediately, he releases it and I slip effortlessly along the
length of his shaft. Up and down. My mouth slides over every inch. He builds
inside me, growing larger with each lick.

“Not yet,” he growls. With effortless precision he picks me up
and slings me onto the bed several feet away.

I land with a bounce, scrambling to find which way is up. His
hands are on me a second later. He’d removed every article of clothing while I
was acrobatting through the air. Good Lord, he’s glorious. Without a single
stage lamp to light his body he still looks like a Greek god coming at me with
an enormous hard-on. My insides clench. There’s no one here to interrupt us now.
He’s obviously done this a lot more than I have and I suddenly worry if I can
keep up.

He pulls me to standing on the bed and turns me so my back is
facing him. He repays the favor of teasing me. Kissing along the curve of my
back, his scruffy chin brushing across the hem of my panties. He tucks his chin
over the lace band and pulls down.

Now I know why he was so tortured when I did this to him. In
the dark, my senses are so heightened it seems like he’s touching every nerve
ending in me at once. The fabric whispers over my skin, followed by
scratchy-soft whiskers. It isn’t until I feel his tongue flick out and trace
gently down the curve of my ass that I let out a grunt of my own.

This is not what I had in mind! I want to tell him to stop, but
I don’t. Because he quickly hits the spot where my ass becomes something else
and it feels like he’s lit a firecracker in my crotch. I cry out with a moan so
loud I know it’s woken my damn tattletale neighbors, but I don’t care.

“Shh...” he coaxes. I immediately bite my lips, turning loud
moans into agonized whimpers.

One hand fists my panties and rips them off me with a lazy
yank. His palm splays flat over my belly the next second, reaching from my navel
to the quivering upper lips of my vagina. His other hand takes mine, pulling me
down to the bed.

I may be inexperienced in the ways of sex, but I’m not stupid.
So I allow my upper half to continue down to the mattress while keeping my hips
right with his lips. In a few seconds, I’m in a forward yoga bend on the bed
with my ass in his face. He kneels on the bed behind me, jostling my fragile
position.

“Good girl,” he whispers, and takes a playful nibble at the
soft flesh of my inner thigh. I spasm under his touch. His hand drops mine and
reaches for my ankle, pulling it to the side to give him better access. I’m so
thankful only a dim candle lights the room. He is now face to ass with parts of
me I’ve never even seen before. My inner self-doubt creeps in, but I ignore it,
concentrating instead on what his tongue is doing.

His kisses start again, up the backs of my thighs to the crest
of my butt and then quickly brushing over to center, teasing me, causing
everything inside to convulse and clench. With an arm still around my waist to
steady me, he settles into the warm folds of pink flesh in the middle.

His licks are slow and soft at first, gently exploring me. A
hand slides down my back and tangles in my hair.

“You taste amazing,” he hums from deep in his throat, and the
vibration skitters down my spine and out my mouth with a shaky moan.

The flicks of his tongue get harder. He pops over a spot near
the front that makes me shake violently. As soon as he’s found this, he sucks at
it, pulling folds of flesh between his lips so he can massage me with his
tongue.

I can’t stand it and squirm to get away from the intensity of
his touch. I’ve never felt anything like this and the sensation is so close to
the relief a girl gets when she finally pees after holding it for too long that
I wonder if I may accidentally let the wrong muscle go.

“Uh-uh,” he growls from behind me, grabbing my upper thighs
with both hands. He slams me against his mouth so forcefully I writhe with
pleasure all over again. He must be trying to punish me—or maybe teach me how
rough he likes it? Either way I can’t get away from him. But I no longer want to
try.

Without warning, he forces his tongue deeper, exploring me from
the inside. I resort to trembling all over to keep from crying out again. Ragged
breath bursts out of me in short, strangled spasms.

My body has ceased to exist, except for the part directly in
front of his face, delighting in every tongue flick. I get the sensation I’m
hiking up some mountain, grasping for the peak, with Devon pushing me from
behind.

It doesn’t take him long to find my peak. Somewhere in the dark
places of my vagina that were numbed by everyone who came before him, he finds
life. My heartbeat is reverberating off pink, wet walls instead of a bony rib
cage. Every ounce of blood now flows through my trembling center and all my
nerve endings seem to be connected here, waiting for the next blissful lick.

His soft sandpaper tongue strikes against the perfect spot
again and again. I can no longer hold myself up, falling against his arm. My
mind twists into a downward spiral, swirling with each pass. I’m vaguely aware
that a hand is between my legs.

When his thumb makes contact with my clit and presses down hard
onto the little pink nub at the exact moment his tongue strikes what I can only
assume is my G-spot from the inside, I lose control of my body, combusting
around him and exploding with a force that sends us crashing down to the
bed.

I desperately grab at my crotch, still convulsing with the
aftershocks of orgasm, thinking he is either the devil or an angel to be able to
erase all the horrible years of awful sex with a few expert flicks of his
tongue.

He pulls my spent body across the cold sheets into his heat and
plants a kiss on my lips, urging them apart to taste the salty warmth of me
still on his tongue.

“We’ve got a problem, Carly,” he says, nuzzling my neck.

“I certainly don’t,” I answer breathlessly, curling into my
favorite spot.

“I don’t have a condom. I wasn’t planning on this.” His voice
is clipped with disappointment as his hand trails through my hair. I know what
he’s asking.

“I’m on birth control,” I breathe into his neck, closing my
eyes and praying he isn’t one of those overly cautious stars when it comes to
this.

“What about...” He doesn’t say it because who wants to talk
about STDs when you’re about to—hopefully—have unprotected sex.