First Take (Star-Taken)

First Take

Star-Taken Book One

 

by

 

Emma Lai

 

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Kindle Edition

 

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

 

FIRST TAKE COPYRIGHT
2013 by Emma Lai

 

Published by Sybarite Seductions an imprint of Twenty or Less Press. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or Sybarite Seductions.

 

Contact Information:

info@
sybariteseductions.com

Visit us at sybariteseductions
.com

 

Book Cover Design

Sepia Toned Portrait of Handsome Man

COPYRIGHT Maugli-I / bigstock.com

Abstract Film Strip COPYRIGHT andkuch / bigstock.com

 

Trademark
and Copyright Acknowledgments

 

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

 

Associated Press: Associated Press, The Corporation

New York Times
: The New York Times Company

The
Washington Post: Washington Post Company

Land Rover
: Land Rover Corporation

The Call of the Wild
by Jack London

The Old Man and the Sea
by Ernest Hemingway

Batman: DC Comics

Jell-O: Kraft Foods Global Brands LLC

La Perla:
La Perla S.R.L.

iPod: Apple Inc.

UPS: United Parcel Services of America, Inc.

 

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PRAISE FOR EMMA LAI

 

~ * ~


Emma Lai’s stories are not only sexy, but fun and witty. Her characters are real and truly heartfelt. Even in her short stories, Emma Lai creates in depth characters like I’ve never read before….When the stories end, you’re left begging for more. The sex scenes are hot and wicked…and gloriously descriptive ; )

~The Obscure Vixen

 

~
* ~

Riding Rodeo


If you are into cowboys who can perform both on the circuit and in the bedroom then you want to check this out. The story is good, the writing believable and the characters wonderfully addictive - you absolutely must read the whole novella…”

~Niina, For the Love of Reading Reviews

 

~
* ~

The Final Dance (Hooked Up at the Wedding
anthology)


There is a sense of romance and sensuality in the seduction, with the ideal amalgamation of [Josh’s]

strength and tenderness. The sex is passionate and descriptive enough so you can get carried away in the scene, with Emma leaving enough room to let your imagination go wild…perfect!

~Nudge Wink Wink

 

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Dear Readers,

 

Welcome to the Star-Taken series. Each full-length story contains a happy-for-now or happy-ever-after ending while the bridge stories, indicated by .5 on the book number, introduce characters who play a significant role in the next full-length.

 

As a reader, I’ve long been a fan of serials and epics, which allow me to journey through a range of life events with a cast of characters. That is what I strive to deliver in this series.

 

I hope you enjoy the Star-Taken series as much as I have enjoyed developing and writing the stories.

 

Happy reading,

Emma Lai

 

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DEDICATION

 

For all my readers who asked for a longer story. I hope you enjoy the first book of my Star-Taken series as much as I enjoyed writing it.

 

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

 

ONE

TW
O

TH
REE

FOU
R

FIV
E

S
IX

SEV
EN

EIG
HT

NI
NE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTE
EN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVE
NTEEN

EIGHTEEN

ABOUT EMMA

MORE EMMA LAI STORIES

 

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ONE

 

 

 

Rachel Harrington sipped her iced tea—which she preferred unsweetened, much to the horror of her friends and family in Texas. Then, with a happy sigh, she settled the drink in the right armrest cup holder before sinking into the leather recliner cushions. A small bag of popcorn nestled against her left thigh. The ticket price was so worth the experience of comfortable stadium seating with plenty of leg room, not that she needed it at five foot four. Nor did she have any intention of laying the seat flat like some moviegoers did. And who cared if the screen wasn’t super huge? It beat the 36-inch flat screen hanging on the wall of her thousand-square-foot walk-up in the three-story brownstone she shared with three other sets of neighbors. They’d no doubt call the police if she dared crank the volume up to movie-theater levels, though she normally preferred the peaceful quiet.

But today was special.

A small smile curved her lips. So far her thirtieth birthday had gone according to plan. She’d taken the day off from work to sleep late, rolling out of bed at eight instead of six. Easy to do since she was her own boss, but she was also ahead on her projects, which made the free time all the sweeter. After breakfast at her favorite diner, she’d hit the spa for a haircut, mani/pedi, and massage. With a new, shorter hairstyle flirting with her shoulders and chin, her head felt lighter. Done in a mint green, her fingernails and toenails matched the playfulness of the new do. She’d never understood what the big deal about hitting thirty was; it wasn’t like her life had suddenly turned to crap upon waking. If anything she was reinvigorated, the pampering only heightening the sensation of refreshment and renewal.

A little introspection
during the mani/pedi had left her with the conclusion there wasn’t much more she could get out of life. She loved her work as a software designer and developer. It had flexible hours, paid really well, and provided an outlet for her creative side. There was an art to developing a user-friendly program: to deliver intuitive software required a lot of thought and planning as well as the ability to foresee all the ways someone could interact with the program. She loved the challenge. Her Upper West Side apartment was not only in the best part of New York City, but was also big enough to house her workstations and a few cherished possessions. She was comfortably independent, free to do what she wanted when she wanted, like take a day off to celebrate life.

The lights dimmed
, and her smile transformed into a grin she didn’t bother to suppress. Not like anyone could see and even if they did, who cared? Unlike the small town she’d grown up in, here she was just one of many anonymous faces; as long as she kept to herself, no one would bother her, so all that mattered, right now, was her date with Stephen Raymond, handsome movie star extraordinaire.

“Is this seat
E7?” a man whispered.

Crap,
why didn’t you pick one of the other empty seats?
“Uh, yeah.”

Clenching
her teeth, she grabbed her drink without making eye contact. She didn’t want to encourage him. After taking a sip, she placed the cup in the opposite holder. He’d sat and settled his beverage in his recliner’s left armrest. She didn’t want him “accidentally” bumping into her and distracting her during the movie.

“Best seats in the house, yeah?”

It didn’t get much better than center seats of the center row, which was why she’d reserved her seat days ago. “Yep.”
And please tell me you don’t intend to keep up a dialogue during the whole movie.

The previews started
, and thankfully, he didn’t ask another lame question.
Why do guys think a single woman in a theater means an easy mark?
As if she was alone because she couldn’t get a date and not because she’d chosen to be by herself.
Solitude isn’t the same thing as desperation.
She’d bet her lucky poker chip Mr. Raymond wouldn’t make that mistake.

Not that he would do anything as plebian as take in an afternoon movie during the middle of the week. The opening scene of the action flick rolled and all thoughts of
the uninvited guest to her right fled as the hunky Mr. Raymond drove a motorcycle like a madman in a high-speed chase. Her heart rate increased. Those machines were dangerous. She’d promised her dad she’d never ride one, but if Stephen appeared at the curb atop one and told her to hop on, she doubted she’d have the strength to resist.

E
ven when tempered by a camera lens, his green eyes flecked with brown pierced her soul, and just the thought of all five foot ten inches of his dark-haired, broad-shouldered handsomeness on a twenty-foot screen for little old her sent a shiver down Rachel’s spine. She could only imagine the impact on her if they were to meet in real life.

Fantasizing,
that was what she liked most about going to the movies alone, the ability to lose herself in another world and be the hero’s leading lady. It was the same reason she read. Romance novels, fantasy, science fiction, it didn’t matter as long as the book drew her in and she could imagine herself as one of the characters.

Oh to be the heroine
in my own romance though.

She’d read the articles about women and unrealistic expectations
set by romance books about Prince Charming or Mr. Right, but she didn’t need a story or a magazine to tell her the men she’d dated had been duds. Relationships needed work to last and all her exes had been lazy bums. The last jerk hadn’t even had career aspirations, much less any desire for emotional growth.

An explosion rocked the screen and she focused on the movie.
What a rude date I am, thinking about my exes instead of giving my undivided attention to the man in front of me.
For the next two hours and twenty-eight minutes she followed every move Stephen made, from the motorcycle chase, to the rescue of the heroine, to their escape, and finally, their first kiss. What she wouldn’t give to feel those sensuous lips pressed against hers, teasing, tasting—

“You liked it then?”

She whipped her head to the right as the credits rolled. She’d forgotten about the uninvited third wheel.
What a way to kill the afterglow.

“Didn’t you?”
Her tone was sharp. It was bad enough she had unwanted company, but for him to criticize her leading man….She straightened, preparing to go on the defense.

He shrugged, but she couldn’t see the accompanying facial expression
as he reclined back in his seat. Not only did the side of the chair hide his face, but the black screen was relieved only slightly by the white lettering and the theater programming had yet to raise the canned lights that helped people safely exit at the end of a show. “The action was good, but the relationship was a little slow.”

Why was he still whispering? It wasn’t
like there was anything to interrupt other than the music playing while the credits rolled. She huffed. “You sound like the critics, and I never agree with them.” In this case, they hadn’t liked the lack of chemistry between the hero and heroine.

Why couldn’t people be happy with relationships unfolding like the petals of a blooming flower?
“In real life, people don’t always go from hello to sex in one hundred and fifty minutes or less. I thought the progress of their relationship was appropriate to the characters. It’s not as if they could’ve said to the bad guys, ‘hold on a second while we get busy.’”

His
rough bark of laughter echoed in the theater. A flash of recognition tickled her memory. Where had she heard that laugh before? She shoved the question aside. This was New York. Any number of men probably had that laugh.

“So you
liked the lead?” He twisted toward her, but leaned back against the opposite arm rest, still in the shadows as if he were hiding from her.

Stop being paranoid, Rach. The guy’s just makin
g small talk.

Well, he could chat her up all he wanted, she knew better than to go off with random men.
“You mean Stephen Raymond? What’s not to like? He’s a good actor.”

She fought the urge to squint.
Even if the lights were up, she wouldn’t be able to make out his face since he wore a baseball cap low over his forehead. He had a thin upper lip complemented by a fuller lower lip, similar to the mouth she’d contemplated kissing at the end of the movie and a solid square jaw that could probably take a punch or two. He was also broad-shouldered like she liked.
This guy is action-hero material in his own right.

He grinned.
“Thank you.”

She wrinkled her nose.
Did I say that out loud?
She was pretty sure she hadn’t. Glancing around, she noted all of the seats in the rows below were upright and empty. Was he thanking her for talking to him? Had he really only been exchanging friendly chitchat?

“Uh, you’re welcome?”
She grabbed her empty cup and popcorn bag then stood. While she didn’t get the creep vibe from him, it was still time to ditch the third wheel and get on with her birthday plans. She ignored the small voice telling her real company would be nice. “Have a pleasant evening.”

He stood as well. “What are you doing after this?”

She blew out a breath, which ruffled her new bangs. She liked the sensation so much, she did it again.
Flirty is fun. Maybe I should flirt with this guy.
They could have some fun on the way out then go their separate ways.

After walking
to the end of the row, she paused at the steps. Without bothering to see if he’d followed, she tossed over her shoulder, “I plan on seeing what trouble I can find.” With a bounce in each step, she took the stairs.

“So you like trouble?”

She repressed a shiver at his voice, which while still low, though no longer a whisper, and near her ear. The deep, husky, throaty rasp had tickled the neck of her skin. “Sometimes, but most especially on my birthday.”

“Happy birthday,
” he said as she reached the floor level and hooked the corner heading toward the door. “But what are you doing alone?” The warmth from his bulky body told her he was hot on her trail.

She smiled.
“Leaving myself open to possibilities.”

Maybe if they kept to a public place, she should take a risk, open herself to the possibility of a pleasant flirtation over dinner with a stranger.
The light from the hallway shone through the window of the door leading to the snack area. Of course, the bright glare might expose the flaws in her tag-along. As she debated whether it was better to fly solo for the rest of the day or switch things up and be a little more daring, she dumped her trash in the bin then used her shoulder to push through the heavy door. Holding the edge with her hand, she turned. Her heart stilled and her breath froze.

Oh
. My. God.
She’d just spent the past two and a half hours staring at that face on the big screen!
Stephen Raymond
.

 

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