My Double Life: Wild and Wicked (9 page)

She passed him her MP3 player. The screen was lit and a song cued up.

“Of course.” Standing, he strode to a small panel that controlled the outdoor lights, fountains, and entertainment systems. “I could bring down a full-size movie screen if you care to watch a film out here.”

He connected her device to the speakers and pressed Play.

“You Hollywood types,” she scoffed, taking her place in the center of a small courtyard surrounded by flowering bushes. “So over-the-top.”

The music began then, a slow, seductive flute that made him think of those cartoons where a snake charmer made a cobra dance. Or maybe it was Courtney’s moves that brought that image to mind. She undulated in a smooth wave, her body as sinuous as a gymnast’s.

He stalked closer. Even though he could see in the firelight—especially with all the candles burning—he wanted a front row seat for this. He’d almost forgotten how different she was when she danced. She seemed to become someone else as she spun and leaped, pulling off a veil and tossing it into the bushes.

Someone utterly confident. Outgoing.

Smoldering.

He held her gaze while she twirled out of another layer. A yellow veil drifted to the floor as her music swelled with horns and strings. She picked up her pace, high kicking in a circle. Shimmying out of a yellow piece of silk that acted as a skirt. There was another skirt beneath this one. Maybe even two. He squinted to see through the remaining veils but couldn’t.

She rang the little bells she’d put on her fingers earlier, the sound blending seamlessly with the music coming through the speakers all around them. She arched into a partial backbend and plucked off a gold-colored veil that had been tied around her neck like a cape. He never would have guessed she wore so many layers. The fine silk clung to her body but didn’t hide her curves.

She approached one of the posts of the pergola and spun around it like she would a dancer’s pole. It was too thick for her to climb, but the gesture reminded him of her moves that first night he’d seen her. She met his eyes for a moment and he guessed she was thinking about that electrifying experience too.

His body hungered for hers.

Another layer of skirt came off in a swoosh of emerald material that ended up around his neck as she danced past him. Her skirt must have brushed a patch of primrose flowers near the edge of the patio because the scent wafted toward him. He could see through the veils that remained on her body. A sheer pink number was knotted above her breasts, the fabric parting to reveal her midriff and a gold chain around her waist.

A cream-colored swath of silk hugged her hips, a slit on either side of her lean, toned thighs. The candlelight made her skin glow, the sconces swaying slightly in the breeze.

The music slowed, returning to a lone flute.

Courtney’s chest rose and fell quickly as she looked up at him through dark lashes. It took all his willpower not to reach for her. Wrap his hands around her hips and draw her closer. His fingers itched to remove those last two veils himself. To free the loose knots and worship her beautiful body with his mouth and hands.

She lifted her chin, tossing her bangs out of her eyes. And in one quick movement she yanked off the top veil. Then the bottom. The music faded to silence as she stood before him in the tiniest bra and panty set imaginable. Three triangles of cream colored lace that had been hidden beneath her costume.

“No applause?” she asked finally, not moving as they stared at one another through a fog of heat and longing.

At least, that’s what was happening for him. Steam rolled off him in waves.

But she deserved more than just his caveman lust. Trey tried to make his brain synch up with his mouth to give her the praise her dance warranted.

“I’ve studied film my whole life. Color, movement, sound.” He clutched at the veil that still rested over his shoulder, the green silk a poor substitute for her soft skin. “But I’ve never witnessed a scene that engaged all my senses the way you just did, Courtney. I’m completely...captivated.”

Even as he said it, he realized he may have revealed more than he’d intended. But hell. She stood there all but naked after sharing something really special with him. She’d revealed something too.

“W-wow.” She tilted her head, almost as if she was trying to deflect the praise. “I would have been happy with a...” She took a deep breath that he recognized was an effort to control her speech. “With a kiss.”

“Don’t accept anything less than you deserve,” he bit out with a fierceness he felt to his toes. “Ever.”

9

I
WAS
SHAKING
,
and not from the temperature outside.

Cool air off the Pacific brushed past my exposed flesh, the touch of moisture turning to steam as it neared my heated skin. So I definitely wasn’t cold. The shaking was a direct result of Trey’s words. And the look in his eyes.

Holy. Cow. The look in his eyes.

Could I be falling for him? I realized for the first time what an apt metaphor that was—falling. Because this feeling was exactly like being at that gut-sucking precipice of a big roller coaster and knowing it’d be a scary trip down. Still, I couldn’t get off the ride now. I’d signed on for this, hadn’t I?

Then his hands were on me and I hit the downward slide. Sensations roared through me until my nerve endings ran the show. Trey’s mouth warm on mine, his tongue sliding along the seam of my lips in an erotic plea. My fingers clutching his jacket lapels in an effort to hold myself up since my knees had turned liquid beneath me.

I knew I’d be mostly naked at the end of my dance, but I hadn’t known I’d feel
this
naked. Being up close to him while he remained dressed and I was unclothed gave me a hot, sexy feeling. I rocked my hips from one side to the other, liking the slight friction of his wool gabardine against my bare skin. And, of course, I was rewarded by the hard strain of what lay beneath his fly.

“We’re going inside,” he growled in a tone that implied I should not argue.

As if.

He whipped off his suit jacket before I could blink and wrapped it around my shoulders. Confused, I realized that he looked behind him as he nudged me out from under the sheltered pergola. There were no houses across the bluffs and no neighbors to speak of, since we were on a cliff that jutted way out over the canyon. But with lights visible down below us, maybe he was worried someone would see me as we hurried toward the house.

How considerate was that?

As soon as I thought it, I had a flash of worry.
What if he just doesn’t want to be seen with me?
But I knew that was the old, insecure Courtney. That kind of thinking remained my go-to reflex—had been all my life—so it was tough to ignore. Yet I
would
ignore it. Nothing was going to rob me of this night with Trey. He did more than
want
me.

He cared about me.

I could feel it in his touch. See it in his eyes.

When we neared the boxy, modern home built on four different levels, some of the windows were lit from within and I could see lots of light wood and chrome. Heavy pendant lamps looked like they came straight out of a manufacturing plant. They were sleek and industrial-looking, as were the rubberized staircases and stainless-steel countertops in the kitchen. But we didn’t head toward the main section of the house.

Trey guided us around a corner to another patio surrounded by gardenia trees. He slid aside the screen so we could enter an open French door into a large bedroom suite. A fire blazed behind a black cage screen, open on both sides. A sleek stone hearth wrapped around it where it jutted into the room. A gray spread covered the low king-size bed, and there was a painting of a red poppy on one wall, but that was the only color against the neutral walls and light bamboo floor.

It felt as if I’d walked into a dream. This empty, gorgeous home perched high on top of a bluff was a place apart from reality, a place I didn’t belong. But then, all my time with Trey felt that way. He was my alternate reality. Being with him brought out some latent sensual animal in me and I loved the feeling. That was probably why I’d tried dancing again tonight, to recreate the magic of that first time.

Trey flicked the suit jacket off my shoulders with the barest nudge of his hand. His greedy gaze roamed all over me and I forgot to feel anything but the joy of being with him. I wouldn’t back down from this magical chemistry. I wouldn’t cheat myself of Trey Fraser.

So I wound my arms around his neck and kissed him like there was no tomorrow.

I lost myself in that kiss. In him. I melted into him, burrowing between shirt buttons and tunneling into his sleeves to touch his hot skin. He couldn’t undress fast enough for me. Maybe I’d used up all my patience in my own striptease.

His shirt and jacket hit the bamboo floor in a flash. His belt slid free and so did the zipper of his pants. I backed him over to the bed, toeing off his socks even as I tugged down his boxers. Then his mouth fastened on my breast and I couldn’t focus on anything else. I felt the light teasing of his tongue around the crest and then he drew me between his lips and flicked at the taut nipple.

It was almost as if he’d touched me between my thighs, because a warm heat vibrated there, too. Urgent now, I reached between my breasts to unfasten the bra already sliding down my rib cage.

I heard a low growl in Trey’s throat, a predatory rumble at odds with his usual urbane demeanor. I knew he must be seriously on edge too and that was a heady turn-on by itself. I felt privileged to see him like this—stripped of the famous public persona. With me, he was simply Trey. My extraordinary lover.

He lifted me off my feet and carried me to the bed, eyeing me with a dark, hungry look. My toes curled as I gazed up at him in the firelight, his gorgeous body unveiled. The bed beneath me was so soft, the man hovering over me so rock hard. I couldn’t wait to feel him on top of me, his strength against my curves. With Trey, there was no awkwardness. I felt feminine. Womanly. Sexual.

And oh, God, did I want him.

He took his time touching every part of me with a thorough attention I never dreamed any man would have the patience for. His hands smoothed and circled, massaging any lingering tension away. Warm kisses to my breasts mingled with the skillful kneading of his fingers along my shoulders, down my arms until we clasped hands. Passionate and tender at the same time. Maybe it was selfish, but I lost myself in the bliss of his undivided devotion to me, to my pleasure.

He found erogenous zones in places I would have never guessed anyone would look, stroking with deft fingers until I hung on the brink of orgasm. Who would have thought the arch of the foot could be so incredibly sensitive? But when he pressed his thumb there, all the while kissing his way up the inside of my calf, I melted. Just totally melted.

By the time he covered me and slid deep inside, I flew apart in seconds.

I saw stars behind my closed eyes—tiny pinpricks of light that burst into bright flashes as I came over and over again. I think I’d been holding back so long that it was impossible to wait another second when I felt him move thick and sure inside me. I clutched his shoulders, my fingers flexing deep in his skin to hold him tight to me.

My hips rolled against his, wringing every last bit of pleasure from the aftershocks, and yes, I enjoyed the hell out of the way my body moving against his made him growl with approval. The way his hot breaths grew faster against my neck as I—yes, stuttering, quiet Courtney—drove this magnificent man absolutely crazy with desire.

God, yes.

“Courtney.” He whispered my name in my ear right before he found his own release, the word filled with a tenderness I hadn’t expected after the way we’d teased and tempted each other all evening.

He anchored my body to his, sealing us together for long moments where we shared the same breath. The same heartbeat.

In the aftermath, I couldn’t move. Languid pleasure made my limbs heavy and I sprawled beneath him, gasping. I breathed in the scent of him, of us, and absorbed the feel of the warm, gorgeous man beside me.

I told myself not to think about the fact that I was falling for him. That I’d started that downward spiral even before this incredible encounter. I cautioned myself not to attach too much meaning to decadent, heady sex. Just because I had rocked his world on a physical level didn’t mean he had deep feelings for me or long term plans, right? I vowed not to obsess about what this night together meant.

I was here to enjoy this time with him for however long it lasted. I could not lose my heart to a man from such a vastly different world, a man whose life was lived in the public eye. Still, even as I tried not to think about the future, a small part of me was already envisioning lazy Sunday mornings spent in his arms. Scintillating nights where we drove each other to frenzied highs...

To squelch the fierce want rising up inside of me, I gathered up my pride and independence and boldly inched away from him. Not enough to be a rebuff, just enough to cool the still-heated air between us. I turned on my side to stare at him, his profile as compelling as the rest of him. I tucked both my hands beneath the folded pillow so I wouldn’t be tempted to reach out and touch him.

“Can you stay?” he asked, turning on his side, too. “I didn’t think to ask you before, I was just so glad to finally see you again.” He stroked a hand over my hair, making me wonder what I looked like.

A train wreck, probably.

But his words suggested he didn’t find me unappealing. At all. Had I mentioned that I felt like a sex goddess with those good endorphins flowing through me? This sensation could become addictive.

“I hitched a ride here,” I reminded him, grateful to put the ball in his court on the sticky question of whether or not to spend the night. “So it’s up to you when you want to send me packing.”

The way his brow furrowed made me think I’d been too flip about it.

But then, his expression eased.

“Guess I’ll hold you hostage a while longer, then.” He smoothed a strand of my hair between his thumb and forefinger. “It took too long for me to see you this week as it was. Your work must keep you busy.”

We’d gone three days without seeing each other. I was glad to know I wasn’t the only one who’d been eager after that initial date.

“I’ve been given new responsibilities.” Given the way I wanted to curl up against his chest and forget about the world, I figured it would be a good idea to talk about my work. Better than admitting how crazy I was about him.

“Is that a good thing?” Still holding that lock of hair captive, he used the ends like a paintbrush, twirling them around my shoulder.

I had to consider his question for a moment. Partly because what he was doing felt really good. And partly because I wasn’t sure how I felt about new work without an increase in my paycheck.

“It’s exciting. I’ve been at Sphere for almost three years, doing the same job. Thinking about a new facet of the company will be interesting.” I explained to him about my previous behind-the-scenes role and my impending presentation to a client. “It’s all the more flattering for me because of my speech issues.”

“That doesn’t make you nervous?”

“A little. But after dancing at Backstage, I figure I can handle a few new risks.” My eyes had been opened that night. I wasn’t going back to my passive, take-what-I-can-get approach to life.

“Good for you.” He released my hair, and I shivered at the way it slithered down my arm and slid across my back to rest on the pillow behind me. “Have you ever considered acting lessons?”

This surprised a laugh out of me.

“Excuse me? I’m a numbers person, not a Hollywood wannabe.”

“Sometimes acting classes can help people who are nervous in front of an audience. They can lessen your nerves and help you relax.”

“Really?” I tried to picture myself in the Actor’s Studio and failed. “Tough enough standing up in front of ten people in my own office. I don’t think I could handle a big class in front of strangers.”

“Just a thought.” He shrugged before turning over to grab a remote that turned the gas fireplace down to a lower setting. The room grew darker.

“How about you? You’ve been pretty busy this week yourself. How’s your work going?”

Trey tugged the sheet over us, reaching behind me to be sure I was fully tucked in. My heart squeezed inside my chest at his sweetness. He drew me closer so that he cradled my head on his biceps.

“I’ve got almost all of my clients working now. That guy I dragged to the show at Backstage—Eric Reims? He’s going to snag a big part next week. I can feel it in my gut.”

“Really?” I tried to recall the actor’s face, but my memories of that night centered around the man in bed next to me.

“Yeah. The casting department on the film is nuts for him and the director just got back to me that he wants another meeting.” Trey nodded with satisfaction, as if that was all the proof he needed. “Once Eric snags this, I just have two teenagers that I need to find work for.”

“So your entire talent agency represents the actors you originally hired for that film your father axed?” I’d read extensively about Trey’s business dealings when I’d prepared Sphere’s reports for Fawn. I knew the basics about the blowup with his dad.

“Plus a few others I’ve met since then. But they’re all working now except for those last two kids. Once I find them solid jobs I can move on.”

A cool breeze blew through the open French doors, making the flames in the fireplace waver and pop.

“And open the film company you don’t want anyone to know about.” I couldn’t resist brushing my cheek along the warm skin of his inner arm. Amazing that hard muscle could make such an enticing pillow.

“Yes.” He tensed and I peered up at him to see his expression. “Although now I’m having second thoughts about what my first project should be, since my father purchased the rights to a story similar to the one I wanted to make—”

He stopped himself from whatever he’d been about to say, his jaw clenched tight.

I tried another approach. “Why do you think he does stuff like that? I told you that my mom has always been tough on me too. But she’s never actively...thwarted me.”

A perfectionist by nature, my mother had always been disappointed in what she perceived as my perpetual flaws. The stuttering was only one example. My lack of ambition, my wardrobe, my long bangs...there were plenty of things she found not to like. But while she complained about those faults, she didn’t want to see me fail.

Odd that anyone’s parent would.

* * *

T
REY
TOOK
HIS
time answering. He wasn’t sure how much to share, for one thing. He was also surprised that she’d asked him such a question.