Fair Play (9 page)

I followed mine and they braced themselves for failure.

The way it was looking, they wouldn’t be waiting long. If I couldn’t come up with a solution to keep Kyle from sabotaging me and the Marshall Theater Players, my rock bottom was right around the corner.

“Ashlyn,” Quinn said, leaning forward toward the camera. “Is everything okay?”

I thought I could talk to my brother about this. Ask for his help in finding a way to keep Kyle from fulfilling his vendetta. Then I remembered how he’d betrayed me to Noah. So instead, I unleashed my gripe on my brother. “Why would you tell Noah about my contract with Dad?”

Quinn paused. “Noah’s a smart guy, and he knows a helluva lot about contracts. Plus, he has a team of lawyers—some of which are licensed to practice law in Texas.”

“So you showed him the contract?” My voice rose with every word. Though I knew it was irrational to blame Noah for any of this, my emotions were in free-fall.

“It was a long time ago, Ashlyn.”

“It doesn’t matter how long ago it was.” I jabbed my finger toward Quinn’s chest, visible through the screen. “You know it was Noah who convinced Lucas Marshall to bring me on at The Marshall Theater. It’s because of him I’m a part of this year’s festival.”

“So?”

“So…if I’m that damn talented, why hadn’t Lucas Marshall heard of me already? We live in the same state.”

“You’re looking at this all wrong, Ash. Who cares how you got in? What matters is what you do with the opportunity. I believe in you, sis. So does Noah, and so does Lucas Marshall. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have brought you to Phair.”

Of course Quinn didn’t get it. Everything he touched turned to cash. “I have been set up to fail… To lose Broadway and my inheritance, not to mention bringing an entire town down with me.”

But it was more than that. Way more. My career wasn’t the only thing on the line. So was my self-respect. This had been my chance to prove to everyone—my father and myself especially—that I could succeed on my own merit.

As it stood, even if Kyle Pritchard were out of the way, Anderson Jones remained in my path. The obstacles were piling at an insurmountable rate.

Damn, but did I ever have to write a killer script.

Chapter Ten

Noah

After tailing Ashlyn to Lost Meadows and back, it was nearly dark by the time I arrived at my office. Thanks to the fiber-optic noise filtering and cameras I’d gotten from Quinn and had installed around the Airstream, I was able to hear and see every detail of her conversation with Pritchard. All on my phone, while I sat in my car, fifty yards away. This allowed me to be close enough to Ashlyn to keep her safe without her knowing I was even around.

It had taken a fierce act of control not to go after Pritchard. Especially when he’d threatened to ruin her career if she didn’t sleep with him. My need to wrap my hands around his neck and crush his windpipe had me shaking with unleashed rage. But I couldn’t go after him. At least, not yet. Once Quinn worked his magic from the surveillance end by capturing the data and putting it on disc, Pritchard would be mine. The American Theater Critics Association or other unions Pritchard belonged to wouldn’t look favorably on an abuse of power by way of extortion.

Needing to calm my anger and get my mind off wanting to hit something, I poured two fingers of scotch, took a seat behind my desk, and pulled up my e-mail. Things were looking exceptionally well with Cambridge Hotels, especially after the Phair City Council had come through and sweetened the deal with a couple more incentives. But before I could throw myself into work, an e-mail from Quinn popped up, informing me Ashlyn had called him and was going off the rails.

I leaned back in my chair, trying to get a better angle to see from my window to hers. Besides the fact her light was on, I couldn’t see movement.

A half-minute later, I stood in her hallway, knocking on Ashlyn’s door.

No answer.

I heard the rattle of pipes and realized she was in the shower—her second for the day and in less than three hours—which told me exactly what I needed to know about her state of mind. Pritchard’s indecent proposal made her feel dirty, and not in a good way.

I tested the doorknob and had to bite back my irritation when it turned. Damn her, she needed to be more careful. I let myself in. Unsure how long Ashlyn had been or would be in the shower, I sat on the loveseat and kicked my feet up onto the coffee table, where her laptop sat. The file for
Midnight in Summer
was open. Curious, I scrolled up to the act 1, scene 2 header and read.

Because I knew to look, I found instant similarities between Andy Rich and me. There were also a lot of differences. We’d both been raised in well-to-do households and were the owners of lucrative family businesses, but Andy had a short fuse and an arrogant disposition that was mostly unkind.

Was that how Ashlyn saw me?

I continued reading. Andy had been the legal guardian of a younger sister since he’d been eighteen. According to the script, he still saw her as a kid, even though she was grown. One night they’d fought over his dictatorial ways. She stormed out, dying in a car accident moments later. Andy blamed himself. But then he met Caroline at the bus stop at midnight on the anniversary of his sister’s death. Andy took it as a sign—he needed to save Caroline in the way he couldn’t save his sister. Only Caroline had other plans for Andy.

The water shut off, jolting me back to reality before I finished the first act.

I closed the screen and looked up.

Steam spilled from the bathroom when Ashlyn opened the door and stepped out. Naked.

Her sharp inhale sucked the breath right out of me as the towel she’d had in her hand fell to the floor. She started to bend to pick it up, but our eyes locked. She froze.

Something in her expression changed. Before my eyes, she became Caroline.

Slowly, Ashlyn reached up and pulled the tie from her hair. It fell in waves over her shoulders. And there wasn’t a thing about her that appeared vulnerable.

She had me wound so tight it took focused effort to move. But if she wanted to play Caroline, I’d do my share and counter with Andy.

“Look at you,” I said, walking toward her. Blood roared through my veins. “Backlit with steam billowing around you, you look like an angel who’s lost her wings.”

“Wings just get in the way.”

Using my body, I pressed her back against the doorjamb. One hand curved around her breast while the other cupped her cheek. “What do they get in the way of?”

Her face turned. The tip of her tongue darted out to lick at the palm of my hand. A zap of current shot directly to my cock. Blue eyes that showed no fear bore into mine as she said, “Wings get in the way of being on my back…under you.”

Jesus Christ, whether she was playing a part or not, this woman did to me what no woman ever had. My cock throbbed with the need to take her. Now. But this wasn’t going to happen hard and fast like it would’ve in the stairwell. Being with Ashlyn was more than sex. She was more than just a body a guy could use to fulfill some elemental need. She made me want to give her everything I had. And I wouldn’t stop until she was mindless.

The pad of my thumb swiped over her peaked nipple. Her breath came slow, uneven. Even though I knew I should stop because she was playing at something and I discovered I wasn’t, the needs of my body usurped all logic and reason.

“I’m going to count to ten,” I said, searching Ashlyn’s face for a hint of someone not Caroline. I found it in the depths of her eyes.

“What happens on ten?”

“I’m going to kiss you,” I said. “I’m going to kiss you until your bones melt. And that’s just starting with your lips. You have until ten to stop me. Otherwise, I’m not leaving until we both come so hard it measures colossal on a Richter scale.”

Keeping her eyes trained on mine, she bit her lower lip.

“One…two…three…”

Ashlyn raised the bottom of my shirt, helped to pull it over my head. Her lips touched the bare skin of my chest, sending tremors of pleasure straight through me.

“…four…five…six…”

Her fingers went to the button of my jeans. I pushed her hands out of the way and unfastened them myself.

“You’re counting too slow,” she said, sliding her hands down the back of my pants, inside my boxers. Ashlyn palmed my ass, pulling me tight against her. “Stop stalling. Just say ten.”

“…seven…” I licked at her lips, turned with her, marching her backward to the bed. “…eight…” I kicked off my shoes. “…nine…” My cock throbbed. God I wanted to be inside her, to feel her tightness surrounding me, milking me mindless.

Her hands inched up my back. “Say it.” Her lips brushed over mine. “Please say it.”

I fisted her hair, but my mouth drew back, away from hers.

No. I refused to take her like this. Somehow it felt like cheating, like I’d be betraying her trust in some way. My need for Ashlyn went beyond Caroline and Andy. I didn’t know what it meant. And I wasn’t about to try to decipher it now. Before I went any further, I had to know if she felt it, too.

“Do you want me, Ashlyn?”

“Yes,” she gasped. Her cheeks flushed, lips so red I knew they’d burn. “My God, yes.”

“Say my name.”

Confusion flickered in her eyes.

“Say my name, Ashlyn, or I’m out that door.”

“I want
you
, Noah.”

“Ten.”

Chapter Eleven

Ashlyn

He wasn’t bluffing. The second Noah got to ten, he kissed me so hard and so deep I lost my place in the space-time continuum. Nothing existed outside the two of us. And as his mouth plundered, his hands moved, doing the most delicious things to my body, touching me in ways no one ever had.

“My God, you’re beautiful,” he said, lowering me to my bed, his voice thickened by desire.

Only I wasn’t beautiful. My lips were a little too big, my nose a bit too small. One breast was slightly different than the other, and no matter how many times I wore sunscreen, my freckles never went away. But Noah looked at me like he didn’t notice any of that. Seeing myself through his eyes made me feel beautiful, too.

He kissed me again, not letting up until I melted, pliant in his arms. His thumbs played at my nipples. I sighed against his lips. Then his hands moved down farther, past my rib cage, until he caressed the smooth flesh of my inner thighs. It maddeningly went on. My back bowed as his tongue traced over my breasts, sucked the sensitive peaks into his mouth, one at a time. All the while my inner voice nagged, warning me to be careful. I could let Noah inside my head, inside my body. But I needed to protect myself—keep him from getting inside my heart.

All that was easier said than done. Especially when he made me feel the things I felt now. Worshipped. Understood. Loved.

Something was happening between us. Something bigger than the physical attraction we’d been fighting recently—bigger than our shared past, Andy, Caroline, The Marshall Theater and even Broadway.

I realized I still cared for Noah Blake.

And I cared a lot.

His lips traveled lower. Fingers slid inside me as his thumb circled my sweet spot. “That’s it, Ashlyn. Open up for me. Just like that.”

Dear God, everything about this—about him—felt good, making me wonder why I’d ever fought against my desire. It made me wonder why I fought against my heart. But giving in to one made it possible to not think about the other. And right now I didn’t want to think at all.

“I need you inside me, Noah.”

“Soon,” he said, positioning his shoulders between my thighs.

Then he licked me, feather-light strokes at first, teasing my swollen center of nerves, increasing the pressure of his tongue as I writhed beneath him. My legs shook as he drank from me. My back arched. I clawed at the sheets beneath my fingers. “More,” I cried out. “Don’t stop.”

When the spasms wracked my body, he didn’t wait a second longer. Maybe he couldn’t. Without allowing me to recover, or even to finish, he rolled on a condom and plunged inside me.

I wrapped my hands around his neck, pulled his mouth to mine. He moaned, long and low in his throat. My hips rose to meet him. Sweat dampened our skin. As the tempo increased, I began to quiver all over again. Nails dug into his biceps. Our eyes locked.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he said. “Take it. Take me deep.”

And I did, giving him all I had in return, drowning in the paralyzing sparks of pleasure that shot through every cell of my body. Making love with Noah was more than a union of bodies. It was a melding of souls. And nothing in my life had ever felt more right.

As the room spun and color faded, Noah, still inside me, managed to reverse our positions, collapsing on the mattress, cradling me against his chest. Against the backdrop of the gentle hum of electric air and the wild race of our beating hearts, the world outside us didn’t exist.

…

I woke up alone in my bed. The sun, just beginning to rise, peeked through closed curtains. A dim glow of lamp light filtered in from the living room. The strangled gurgle of fresh brewing coffee sounded.

Last night had been incredible. I couldn’t keep the smile from settling on my face, or the gratitude from warming my heart. After what happened yesterday, Noah had given me what I needed most—a distraction from thinking about Kyle Pritchard and his terrible threat. But I knew the reprieve wouldn’t last long. Sooner or later, Noah would ask about what happened with Kyle. He’d think demanding answers to his questions would be his right.

I reached my arms above my head and indulged in a decadent stretch, wondering where Noah and I would go from here. My spirits deflated somewhat when I realized the answer. Nowhere. We’d come together for the sake of the play—for Broadway, my inheritance, the theater, the bar, the town. Just like how even the best shows come to an end, so too would Noah and I.

Because despite how fantastic my body felt, there was no way I could ever be with a man who acted like my avenging knight when all I wanted to do was forget about the one time I’d been a damsel in distress.

But that didn’t mean we couldn’t enjoy it while it lasted.

He entered the bedroom, wearing only his boxers. With his finely chiseled pecs and broad shoulders, he looked like a Renaissance sculpture had formed him of marble. A sexy coat of stubble dusted the lower half of his face.

“Good morning, beautiful.” In one hand he carried a cup of coffee, in the other, an apple.

I sat up, covering myself by tucking the sheet beneath my arms. “Are you always such an early riser?”

He handed the coffee over. “I am when five a.m. here is eleven in London.”

I took a sip then set the cup on the bedside table. “What’s going on in London?”

He took a bite of the apple, then held it out for me. “The Double Shot is conquering Europe, one city at a time.” His knee sank into the bed beside me. “Also, I promised myself if I got up, got some work done, and let you sleep, I could have you as a reward.”

“That’s mighty presumptuous of you.” I took another bite of the apple and set it alongside the cup of coffee. “What if I’m not in the mood?”

He tugged the sheet down past my breasts. “I have ways to put you in the mood.”

I reached for the waistband of his boxers, pulling him closer. “Is that why you woke me up three times during the night?”

His jaw clenched as the tips of my fingers brushed over his growing erection. “Actually, I only woke you twice. The third time was all you.”

I grinned. “That’s not how I remember it.”

“You crawled on top of me and rode hell for leather.”

Acting the way I had last night was so out of character for me. But what could I do? No one had ever turned me on the way Noah did.

Noah pinned my arms above my head and peppered my breasts with light tickling kisses. “I remember you saying there’s a pretty hot love scene between Caroline and Andy. Does she get as nasty with him as you did with me last night?”

“No.” I wiggled beneath him, loving the way he grew harder in the struggle we played at. “It’s a completely different context.”

Noah’s mouth covered mine, taking horseplay to the edge of foreplay. When he pulled away, I couldn’t miss just how much his eyes darkened.

The mood went from light to serious as something inside me shifted. I brushed his hair that’d fallen across his forehead aside.

“Whatever’s going on between us….” he said, “we know it can’t last.”

Even though I’d just thought the same thing, his words stung in a way I never would’ve guessed they could. Yes, Noah was right. A romantic relationship between us would never last. And not just because of my own reasons.

I suspected Noah was chasing some serious demons. From what I knew about his dad—a major drunk with anger problems—I suspected Noah’s issues stemmed from that relationship. The way he’d backed away from me after grabbing my arm that day in the hall and the disgusted-with-himself look that came over his face when my shoulder slammed against the door frame proved it. Then there was Noah’s admirable sense of loyalty to Quinn. I wasn’t sure if he’d risk his strongest friendship to go after Quinn’s sister.

Still, his words pierced at the place deep inside me that I’d fought to harden against him years ago.

“Maybe, then, we should stop with the sex,” I said, only the way my hands moved over his shoulders and down his back said just the opposite.

Noah’s lips feathered over mine. “What about the play?”

“Lucas threatened to find someone else to finish the play if we refuse to follow through with his plan, so…” The sheet still between us, I moved my legs, cradling Noah’s lower half between them.

“It’s the improvisation that gets us in trouble.” His teeth scraped over my neck.

“There’s also Quinn.” I said. “He wouldn’t like this.”

Noah stopped the neck nibbling, rolled off of me, onto his back beside me. Then he took the mother of all deep breaths. “No, he wouldn’t.”

I covered myself with the sheet. “Then it sounds pretty simple. We have to keep spending time together until the play is finished, but not like this.”

From the corner of my eye, I watched as a scowl spread over Noah’s face. “Then I guess we’ve reached a consensus.”

We had.

No more improv, no more sex.

Last night had been all about Caroline and Andy—or at least that’s how it started. But I didn’t like the empty feeling I got in knowing Noah and I would never be together like this again. Seeing him every day and knowing exactly what I was missing seemed the most excruciating form of torture. Judging from the look on his face and the way he quietly gathered his clothes and dressed, I took no comfort from seeing he felt the same way.

I just couldn’t see any other option.