Authors: Suzanne Brockmann
He leaned back slightly, studying her eyes. “Whiskey sours, or maybe strawberry daiquiris?”
“Candy drinks,” she said. “Pah. Not even close.”
“Hey, I’m out of practice.”
“Good,” she said. “Stay that way.”
“Are you going to tell me what you
do
drink?”
“Actually, I was hoping for another dance.” Her voice came out sounding breathy and far too eager. It was one of the first honest things she’d said all night, and as soon as the words left her lips, she regretted saying them.
But just like that, Jericho’s arms were around her again, holding her close—closer even than he had before, and her regret vanished.
“Do you remember how to do a screen kiss?” he breathed in her ear.
As he moved, she could feel his thighs brushing against hers. She looked up at him. “I—”
He kissed her, softly, sweetly, brushing his lips against hers.
He pulled back, looking into her eyes, and she tried to protest. “Jericho—”
“Shhh,” he said softly. “Stay in character. You like me, remember?”
He was going to kiss her again. She could see it in his eyes as his gaze lingered on her lips, as he seemed to memorize every inch of her face.
And Kate couldn’t breathe, let alone speak. She was about to be kissed again by Jericho Beaumont. She couldn’t remember how many times she’d watched one of his movies and dreamed of what it would be like for that gorgeous mouth to claim her own.
He lowered his head slowly, giving her plenty of time to escape.
She almost did. Kissing in public wasn’t part of their deal.
But then she saw it. In his eyes. A spark of uncertainty—a faint vulnerability. He wasn’t sure if she was going to let him kiss her. And he wanted to kiss her. He wanted it, bad.
And Kate couldn’t back away. She didn’t want to back away.
Instead she lifted her mouth, closing the last fraction of an inch that gapped between them.
His lips were soft, his mouth sweet, tasting faintly of coffee. She felt him sigh, felt herself melt with him, felt him taste her, touch her lips with his tongue. She opened her mouth to him, and he kissed her so slowly, so deeply, so completely.
It was not just a kiss, it was a communion. It was sheer ecstasy, complete delight.
And it was a million times better than she’d ever imagined.
He wasn’t even pretending to dance anymore. And Kate clung to him as if she would fall without his arms around her. She was pressed against him from her breasts to her thighs, and she couldn’t help but notice his arousal.
Jericho pulled away first. “My God,” he breathed into her ear. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do that?”
Kate’s heart was pounding so hard, she almost couldn’t hear him over the roaring in her ears. Realization of where they were, and of how completely she’d surrendered to him made her cheeks begin to heat. “Jed, it was only acting.”
He lifted his head to look at her again. “The hell it was. You couldn’t act your way out of an open window.” He touched her cheek. “Look at you. You’re blushing because you know everyone who saw that kiss knows damn well that I’m dying to get inside you—and that you’re dying for me to be there.” He laughed, a brief burst of air. “Hell, we can’t even look at each other without giving that away.”
Kate shook her head. “You asked me to pretend …”
“Imagine how good it could be.”
She didn’t have to think hard to imagine that. “We hardly even know each other.”
“We’ve been sharing a trailer for more than a week now,” he said. “I think we know each other plenty well enough.”
Jed gazed down into Kate’s upturned face, knowing damn well that she wasn’t going to agree with him. Yes, Jericho, I definitely think we should have sex tonight. No, those words weren’t going to come out of Kate’s mouth here at David’s party. But maybe back at the house…
“Hey,” he said, knowing he would get farther ahead by backing away. “No pressure.” Of course, his message would’ve been a little more convincing if he weren’t pressing a hard-on the size of a sawed-off shotgun into the softness of her belly. God, he wanted her. Taking a deep breath, he willed his attraction and arousal to diminish. He tried to push the heat he was feeling far, far away.
It worked. For about three seconds. But then she looked up at him and moistened her lips with the very tip of her tongue, and his desire slammed back into him so hard he was dizzy.
He kissed her again. He couldn’t stop himself. And she only hesitated for half a second before kissing him back.
He ached to fill his palms with the fullness of her breasts, to pull down the zipper that ran the length of her back, and to slowly peel this incredible dress from her body. He tried to imagine her underwear, all smooth satin and lace against her equally smooth skin, then imagined himself removing it from her, pictured her draped back on the bed in David’s guest room.
“You can’t kiss me like that and then deny that there’s something intense between us. You know if we
did
have sex, it would be the best either of us have had.
Ever.
” Wrong approach. Jed knew the instant the words were out of his mouth. He’d put her on the defensive. He should’ve
apologized. Whispered that he couldn’t resist her. Begged her to help him stay in control …
Kate started backing away. “Jericho, we work together. Starting something between us would be
insane
—”
He’d been Jed just a few minutes ago, but now she was calling him Jericho again. That wasn’t good. Still, he didn’t let her go. “So let’s not start something. Let’s just take tonight and get this out of our systems. We’re hundreds of miles from the set. No one would ever have to know.”
“Do you really think we could just … get it out of our systems?” she asked softly.
Jackpot. She was admitting there
was
something between them. One of her hands was cupped at the back of his neck, and he could feel her fingers in his hair. It was a sensation beyond description, and he wanted her to leave her hand there forever. Her eyes were so blue and wide, for a moment Jed felt as if he were in danger of falling in and drowning.
“Do you?” she asked again.
He was playing to win, but he had to answer honestly. “No.”
She nodded. “I don’t think so either.”
“Okay,” he said. “So we set aside the next two weeks—or however long you think it’ll last—and every time we go into my trailer and shut the door, I take you right on the table. We order all of our lunches and dinners in, and spread food on our bodies so that we can at least get a little nourishment when we take turns licking each other all over and—”
Kate laughed. “Stop,” she said. “The fact that I’m even remotely considering this means I’ve completely lost my mind.” She took a deep breath, exhaling in a burst, like an athlete preparing to run a marathon. “Tell me how you met David.”
“You’re changing the subject.”
“Brilliant deduction.”
“I’m not done telling you all the different ways I want to make love to you.”
“You told me no pressure.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t really mean it.”
“Just … tell me how you met David.”
Jed considered kissing her again, but instead told her what she wanted to know. “It was in high school. I was a freshman, he was a senior. He’d moved to town a few years earlier, but we didn’t exactly run in the same circles. At least not until after I went into the city for that audition—and my father … did what he did. Rearranged my face.”
She nodded. “I remember.”
“Danny Pierce—he was that agent who was going to find me modeling jobs—one of the things he told me to do until my face healed was to get involved in the school drama program. ’Course only the nerds like David Stern did drama at my high school. But I auditioned for the spring play anyway—they were doing
Streetcar.
I was only a ninth grader, but I went out for the part of Stanley. I figured, go big or stay home.”
“You must’ve blown the director away.”
Jed smiled. Kate had such faith in his ability as an actor. Her conviction made him feel warm, and he realized with bemusement that that warmth was happiness. Imagine that. Happiness, twice in one day. Hell, how long had it been since he’d allowed himself to feel happy about some stupid little insignificant thing? The stakes had been too high for too long.
“Actually, the director thought I was there as a joke,” he told her. “To mock the other students, or maybe screw things up by being cast and then bailing a week before the show. So he cast David as Stanley. I was a spear carrier—an extra. I didn’t even have any lines.”
“
David
was Stanley …?” Kate tried not to laugh. “Oh, dear.”
“He wasn’t that bad,” Jed said. “But … he wasn’t that good, either. He drove me insane at the time—he didn’t do even a quarter of what he could’ve with that part. I used to grit my teeth to keep from telling him what to do with his body—how to move, how to stand …”
“But somehow you and he became friends.”
“Um. Not exactly.”
“Why do I get the feeling that this is going to be good?”
“David got mono three days before the show opened,” Jed told her.
“Ah. And you were the understudy, right?”
“Wrong. The understudy was some geek who hadn’t even bothered to learn the part. But I had. I’d memorized all the lines and even worked out better blocking. Still, the director, Mr. Howe, didn’t believe me when I told him I was ready to go—that the show could go on as scheduled. I had to coerce Emily Pratt—the girl who was playing Blanche, who also happened to be David’s girlfriend—into playing a scene in the hall outside of Mr. Howe’s classroom. It worked. The show opened on schedule. I played Stanley, blew everyone away, and stole Emily Pratt away from David in the process.”
“Oh, ouch.”
“Needless to say, he didn’t like me very much after that.”
Kate was watching him, amusement dancing in her eyes. Had he really once thought her eyes were nothing special? How could he have failed to notice all the different flecks of color combined with the vivid blue, changing hue with her mood. He wondered what color her eyes would become when she lay looking up at him from her bed, as he slowly filled her.…
“So what happened to make him change his mind?” she asked.
God, he wanted to kiss her again. Her lips were slightly parted as she gazed up at him.
“I’m not sure.” He had to clear his throat. “He graduated, and a few years later, I left town, too. I didn’t see him for more than ten years. But my sister used to send me clippings from the local paper—you know, news about people I’d known from school. So when David was appointed the head of the Rehab Center, I knew about it. And when I was trying to find a place to go—somewhere I could be sure I wouldn’t get VIP treatment, I remembered him. I figured he’d enjoy watching me suffer. He’d make damn sure I didn’t get anything special to take the edge off my pain when I was going cold turkey.”
“So you’ve only been friends with him for the past few years?”
“Five years,” Jed said, “four months, twenty-nine days.”
Kate was silent for a moment as they danced. But then she looked up at him. “I don’t do casual sex,” she said quietly. “Sex without love is … belittling something very special. I feel very strongly about this.”
Jed held his breath, praying that a “but” was coming.
“But,” she said, “I have to be honest—both with you and with myself. I wish I could jettison my beliefs and just go for sex for the sake of sex, because I also believe that you are completely right. You and me?” She shook her head. “It would be better than anything I’ve ever known.”
“I’m with you on that,” Jed murmured, unable to resist brushing the softness of her neck with his lips.
Her breath caught. “And then I start thinking, if casual sex is so awful, then how come I’m feeling this way?”
“Good question.” He kissed her again.
“Oh, God,” she said. “We never should have left the movie set. How are we going to go back to sharing that trailer now? It was hard enough lying there with you in the next room before this.”
Jed lifted his head. “Really?”
Kate started to blush. “Yes,” she said. “All right? Are you happy that you know?”
He was. Extremely happy. So much so that he almost didn’t mind when she pulled out of his arms. He followed her off the dance floor and over to the bar.
“Whiskey,” she told the bartender. “Straight up.” She glanced at Jed as if daring him to comment.
“And a ginger ale,” he ordered.
The whiskey came first, and as Kate reached for it, Jed put his hand down, over the top of the glass. “Don’t,” he said. “I know I told you that I didn’t mind. And I wouldn’t mind if you just wanted to have a drink, but I know what you’re doing, even if you don’t.”
She lifted one eyebrow, giving him that cool, appraising warrior-queen look that he’d come to know so well. “Really? Just what, then, am I doing?”
He didn’t move his hand. “You want to break your rules,” he told her. “And this way, you can have something other than yourself to blame. You can make love to me tonight, and wake up in the morning and say, oh, my God, I shouldn’t have had all that whiskey last night. I wasn’t thinking clearly, and look what happened.” He shook his head. “It takes the edge off the responsibility and the guilt. But it’s cheating if you do it this way, Kate. Believe me, all you’ll end up feeling is worse.”
Kate reached up to touch his face, her eyes filled with a mixture of emotions. Confusion, amusement, disbelief, and something warmer, something sweeter.
Her fingers were cool, and Jed closed his eyes, turning his head to kiss the palm of her hand.
She shivered. “Just when I think I’ve got you pegged, you pull something like this. I would’ve thought you’d want me to take a little of the edge off my sense of responsibility.”
Jed looked down at the whiskey. “Not this way,” he said. He let go of the glass, and pushed the ginger ale he’d ordered in front of her.
“I want you,” she whispered, and something in his chest squeezed tight. “And you’re right. I was going to get a little tanked, so I could be with you.”
“Hey, Jed, there you are.” David appeared at his elbow. “Mind if I steal your date for a minute or two?” he asked Kate. “I’ve got somebody I want him to meet. It’ll be quick—I promise.”