Page 48 of His Girl Hollywood
“Holy Mary, mother of God,” he murmured, reaching for her wrists and holding her steady so he could kiss her. She giggled and leaned back so that he could lie on top of her, skin to skin. He was warm and strong, and this was right. Oh so right.
Her ear was flush with his chest and she listened to his heart beat, still fluttering rapidly from his climax. She had done that. She smiled against his skin, heady with bliss and her own power. As his heartbeat slowed to a more normal pace, his hand wandered lower, resuming its ministrations to her body, her nub of pleasure tightening at first contact. She gasped as he slid two fingers inside her, and he locked eyes with her. “All right?”
She nodded, unable to speak with the wanting, answering him with a ferocious kiss. He curled his fingers inside her, and she clenched around him as he made contact with her most sensitive places. He worked his fingers in and out, playing her like a violin, before removing them. She moaned at the loss, but it was short-lived as he pushed himself up to his knees and replaced his hand with his mouth. She was lost then, writhing with pleasure, a wild creature she’d been too frightened to unleash taking up residence in her heart and soul. He reached beneath her and slid his hands under her ass, pulling her closer so he could devour her. She put her own hands to her breasts, tweaking and kneading her nipples as he proved his tongue was as nimble as his feet.
It was both an eternity and only moments before everything in her tightened as if she’d reached the crest of a mountain and was looking over the precipice. Then, without warning, she was falling, stars exploding behind her eyes, and electric waves of pleasure crashing over her with an intensity she’d never known. When it stopped and she was spent, Don pressed a gentle kiss to her foldsand rose to take her in his arms. She snuggled close to him, content in ways she had never dreamed. He kissed her cheeks, her forehead, the tip of her nose, and a comforting warmth spread through her at his tenderness. She nestled into him, wanting more, wanting to know the feeling of him moving inside her. “Don, I want, I need—”
He chuckled against her hair, kissing her temple, and pulled her tightly against him. “I know, sweetheart, I know. But you’ll have to give me a minute.”
“Oh.” A puff of air escaped her mouth, and then there was an awkward silence. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”
“No, of course you’d want that. But, Lena, don’t you think maybe we should wait?” He leaned back against the pillow and crossed his hands behind his head, suddenly distant.
She wanted to tell him she was done waiting. That she’d been waiting since she was seventeen years old and that was long enough. But he was right. She’d fallen headlong into this, inviting him back here. She’d questioned how wise a decision it had been. At least one of them was being sensible. “You’re right, of course.” She gave him a quick kiss and burrowed deeper under the covers and into him.
“There’s no need to rush. We can have as many nights as you want.” It was a promise, but there was something missing behind the words. Something tentative and unsure in his voice. She’d told herself they would have this one night. That it would have to be enough to answer the unfulfilled want that had lived inside her for so many years. So why then did it hurt so much to hear the hollowness there? To sense he was holding back?
Lena wasn’t kidding herself. She knew that even if they could have another night, if she allowed herself to, that “as many nights as you want” meant as many nights as Don was willing to give her. She struggled to find a way to respond to him, but he rolled over andbefore long the soft wheeze of his breath signaled that he had fallen asleep. Meanwhile, she lay wide awake, the weight of the future and her refusal to let him disappoint her again whirring through her mind like film through a projector.
Chapter 18
Sometime around 2:00 a.m., Don had finally fallen asleep. He didn’t know what to do, so he’d rolled over and pretended to sleep. Avoiding things was easier. That was what he’d always done, hadn’t he? Run off and put his problems in the rearview mirror, hoping they’d disappear? Well, Frankie had proved that problems didn’t suddenly evaporate. That you had to take action, do something. Or the next time you turned around, they’d be waiting to hit you like a ton of bricks.
But he couldn’t say all of that to Lena. He’d wrestled with himself—Lena’s disappointment, his fear of taking this too far and putting her in Frankie’s crosshairs. He wanted her, God, so much. Enough to banish Mabel from his thoughts, to throw caution to the wind. Funny how when it’d been make-believe on set, the memory of Mabel had paralyzed him, making it impossible to make love to Rita without tripping over himself.
But when it was real—when Lena had kissed him, looked at him with those big green eyes, and invited him back to her place—he couldn’t resist her. They were good together. He’d never come like that from a woman’s mouth before. Never seen a gal relish it so much. And the taste of her? Jesus, it was so sweet, so good. It tasted like home. But he hadn’t been able to make love to her. He’d wanted to. Desperately. But when it had come to that moment,Mabel had been there again. Her burnt face swimming through his mind.
So, instead, he’d rolled over and pretended to fall asleep. When he finally did, dreams of him and Lena tangled up in each other, making good on what they’d started, haunted his sleep. Dreams so good that he wanted to make them real as soon as he woke up. He’d held himself back. But why? Couldn’t he let himself go just this once? No one had made him feel this way since Mabel. No, not since Mabel. No one had made him feel this way ever. Things had never been this intense, this all-consuming.
He’d never let anyone get that close. He’d locked his heart away and swallowed the key, telling himself it was for everyone else’s sake. To protect them. But now he wondered if that was true. If maybe his heart had always been guarded. Even before Mabel. He’d never trusted that anyone could love him. Not when the one person who should’ve, his father, had made it clear he held nothing but disdain for him. So he’d refused to give anyone else that chance. And he was still holding back. When Lena had reached for him, wanting all of him, he’d flinched and retreated into himself. But in his dreams, there was no fear. No concern that someone else would find him wanting. He imagined telling Frankie to go to hell. Taking Lena in his arms every night, for as long as she wanted. In his dreams, he could have this. During one such dream, the ghost of a smile dancing across his face, his subconscious bliss was interrupted by a sharp poke in his side. He kicked out with his foot.
“Ow, you kicked me!”
Oh nuts!He had been protesting being rudely awakened in the middle of the lovely dream. The figure beside him crawled out from under the sheet and switched on the light, blinding him. He threw his arm over his eyes. “What’d you do that for?”
“You have to go.”
He cracked open an eyelid and looked at the small clock on her nightstand. “Lena, it’s five o’clock in the morning.”
She kneeled on the bed beside him and sighed heavily. “I know.”
He pulled her toward him and kissed her stomach, trailing his mouth down her belly. His dick stirred, eager to bring his dreams to life. Who was he to deny it? But as he was getting to the good part, she gently pushed him away.
“Don, no, you have to go.”
That extinguished his desire and he leaned up on an elbow. “Why?”
“Because this, us, no one can know. You have to go back to your hotel and come to the studio with Eddie like nothing happened. Like you’ve been there since the end of afriendlydinner last night. The whole world thinks you’re in love with Eleanor—and that’s how it needs to stay.”
He ran his hand down his face. He wasn’t awake enough to process this. “What? Why? Last night you said—”
“Last night was…”
“Don’t say it was a mistake. You know it wasn’t.” His heart was racing and there was a ringing in his ears. What was Lena playing at? She’d invited him here. Now, she regretted it?
Her shoulders slumped and she leaned back against the headboard. It was unfortunate how inviting that made her breasts look. “It wasn’t. It was…everything. You don’t know how long I’ve wanted that, Don.” He’d never seen her look more vulnerable. Or more beautiful. His breath caught in his throat at her words. He’d never realized. Never understood that she saw him as something more than a big brother figure. But her next words punctured his joy. “But even if it wasn’t a mistake, we can’t do it again.”
He reeled back as if she’d slapped him. Rationally, he knew that she was right. That this one stolen night had been risky enough.But it still hurt. Because even Lena, who’d known him since he was a boy, found him wanting. She was deciding to hide him and what had passed between them. She was rejecting him, just like his father had done.