“Come here, then, and get in my lap.”
Lizzie trembled as she did as she was told, sliding into his lap, facing him, her knees spread wide.
“Put me inside you, sugar,” he said roughly. “And do it now.”
She reached down, wrapped her fingers around the hard length of him, and guided him inside her, sliding down onto him, gasping at the intense pressure of him inside her. God, she’d never get over wanting this. Never.
He swore softly, his hands tightening convulsively on her hips, holding her still. “You’re blowing my goddamn mind, Coco.”
“Ash…” She put her hands on him, stroking his chest, her hips straining to move.
“Look at me,” he said, his voice ragged. “Don’t stop looking at me.”
She obeyed. Without hesitation. He released her hips, raising his hand to the buttons of the shirt, pulling them open so he could see her. Then he slid his arms around her and gathered her close. So they were skin to skin.
Then he moved, deep and slow, and she put her arms around his neck, dipping her head to kiss him. Hesitant at first, then hungrier. Feverish. Becoming more intense as he moved harder, faster.
Ash’s hands slid up her back, holding on to her, keeping her tight against him, keeping her close.
Never leave him.
Only at the last minute did he break the kiss, watching as her climax hit, a cry breaking from her. “You’re mine, Coco,” he whispered as the pleasure began to overwhelm her. “Don’t you ever forget it.”
And one thing became very clear.
He was probably going to break her heart all over again.
Chapter Nine
Ash put the phone down after he’d finished his conversation with Sam then pushed himself out of his black leather designer chair and ran a restless hand through his hair.
He walked to the windows that lined his office, the same view as from the pool. Of LA glittering in the sun. He frowned at the view, for once not feeling the usual kind of satisfaction he normally felt when he looked at it. Now he just felt kind of…
Actually, he didn’t know what. Whatever it was, he didn’t like it. Looking at the view was supposed to all be part of the triumph. His journey from the projects to the glorious heights of Beverly Hills. But it didn’t feel so triumphant now.
I didn’t want you to ever forget me…
Ash passed a hand over his face, wincing as he pressed a little too hard on his scar. He couldn’t keep his thoughts from that night a couple of days ago now, where he’d held Lizzie in his arms and bled out his soul to her, for reasons he couldn’t have explained even to himself. Probably because if he was going to demand no distance from her, then reciprocating was only fair.
But still. He hadn’t meant to tell her about the vow he’d made to himself the day he’d found her note, the note he’d ripped into a thousand tiny pieces, that he’d make it so he’d be everywhere. That she’d never be able to escape him again.
Years later that vow had felt stupid and childish. It still kind of did. But the feeling inside him remained the same. Anger. A low-level hum that kept playing in the background of everything he did. An anger fueled by his father’s selfishness and his own frustration at not being able to do anything about it. Anger at Lizzie for leaving, for depriving him of the one good thing in his life.
A movement a near the door caught his eye and he looked up to find Lizzie leaning against the doorframe. She wore her green-and-white sundress today, the light coming through the windows highlighting the red glow of her hair. She smiled at him and an odd tight feeling caught hard under his breastbone. He’d been getting lots of those beautiful, free smiles lately and he had to say, he liked them. But this feeling was familiar somehow. And not entirely welcome.
You don’t want to let her go…
Stupid. He had to let her go, didn’t he? Because she didn’t want to stay. Besides, why did he keep wanting to protest anyway? Nothing had changed between them. They still wanted different things and he had no right to keep her. At the end of the next week they’d say good-bye and that would be it. He wasn’t disappointed by that thought, not in the slightest.
“What’s up?” he asked. “Can’t live without me?”
“As if. I just wondered if you wanted to watch a movie with me.”
“Not if it’s one of mine.”
The previous evening Lizzie had insisted they watch one of his movies, his first breakout hit. He never watched his own movies as a rule—once they were done they were done and he was happy to see the back of them. But he had to admit it had been good to sit there with her in his lap, obviously enjoying the movie. Telling him she loved watching him fight because he was so graceful. Like a freaking dancer, she’d likened him to, which was cringe-making and yet kind of flattering at the same time.
A smile flickered around her mouth. “Oh, really? I loved seeing Back for More. I was hoping we might watch Acid Rain.”
That had been a failed foray into sci-fi and one of his few flops. He’d gotten some good critical reviews but the fans hadn’t liked it one bit. “God no, not that one.”
“Why not that one?”
“Everyone hated it.”
“Oh? Why?”
“Too much acting, not enough shooting.”
“I see. But you’re a good actor,” Lizzie said. “You know that, right?”
Ash looked down at his desk, the weird feeling in his gut redoubling. “Yeah, of course I know that.”
“So…everything’s fine then? With the Red River audition?”
“Yeah, just got off the phone with Sam. I’m getting the script in a couple of days.”
That should have been one hell of a thrill. His first non-action movie script. A part he could really prove himself in. Prove he had acting skills, not just punching and kicking skills. But he found he had to dig deep just to muster up some enthusiasm.
“That’s great.” A crease appeared between her brows. “Isn’t it?”
It should be. So why didn’t it feel like it was? He tried to push the feeling away. “Definitely is. Oh, and I’ve got a premiere coming up in another week. For Arctic. My publicist was hoping to get Katie Hamilton on board as my date. To, you know, help with my image. Apparently her people are into the idea, too.”
An expression he couldn’t interpret crossed Lizzie’s face. “Oh. So why exactly is bringing her going to help your image?”
“She’s a good girl. Wholesome. Shit like that. Sam seems to think it’ll prove to the world at large and Christiansen in particular that I’m a good boy.”
The crease between her brows deepened. “Do you want to go with her?
Ash let out a breath. “Not really. But hey, I don’t care all that much. I’ll go along with her and the press will make up some shit that we’re together. That might be good for the image as well.”
She frowned. “But…you wouldn’t really be seeing her, are you?”
“What? Katie? No way. She’s not my type.”
“And she’d be aware of this, I take it?”
“We all play the game, sugar. Katie, too. “
“Sounds awfully political.”
He lifted a shoulder. “Welcome to Hollywood.”
“Well… I still don’t see why this Christiansen guy is so worried about your reputation.”
“Who knows? All directors have their foibles.”
“I thought any publicity was good publicity.”
Ash folded his arms, studying her face. “What’s got you annoyed?”
Lizzie didn’t say anything for a moment. Then she pushed herself away from the doorframe, coming over to his desk. “I just think you should be judged on your acting skills, not on your reputation. It’s your acting you see on the screen, after all.”
“Not according to some people. If an actor has too big a rep, that’s all people see onscreen. They can’t divorce the actor from the character. And that’s not good for box office sales.”
“But that’s not you, Ash.”
“Isn’t it me? All that they say about me is true.” It was. The fights he got in. The parties he’d thrown. The cars he’d crashed and the women he’d slept with. All of it was true. He’d denied himself nothing because he’d felt he’d earned the right. “I did all those things.”
Slowly she came around the desk to him, engulfing him in a sweet wave of scent that was all her. Part laundry powder, part jasmine body lotion she put on after a shower, and part that unique smell that was all Lizzie. Automatically he reached for her, pulling her in close, settling her against him. “Don’t go thinking I’m a good boy,” he murmured. “I’m not.”
Her chin lifted. “After what you’ve been doing to me the past couple of nights? Hardly.” Her hands rested on his hips. She’d gotten much less cautious about touching him and he liked the way she did it whenever he was near. As if she couldn’t keep her hands off him the way he couldn’t keep his hands off her. “But I know the real you, Ash, and it’s not what the rest of the world thinks you are.”
“The real me? And what’s that?”
The look in her eyes softened. “Protective. Kind. Caring.”
He didn’t know why that made him so damn uncomfortable. “Hey, I’m a blackmailer, don’t forget. Kind isn’t the first word that springs to mind.”
“No, true. But you’ve never hurt me. Everything you’ve done in the past week has all been for me.”
“Purely my expert seduction technique.”
The crease between her brows appeared again. “Why is it so hard to accept that you’re not that bad?”
He couldn’t answer. He didn’t know. It just felt wrong for her to think he was better than he was. It made him want to live up to her expectations and God knew he couldn’t do that. He’d never been able to do that for anyone.
Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe this whole week was a mistake…
Ash turned away from her to the windows again, the look in her eyes making him feel suffocated all of a sudden. He focused on the glittering city beyond the glass.
“Ash? What’s wrong?”
This whole situation was not going the way he’d planned it. Oh, he had her in his bed and in his life but…he sure as hell didn’t want these feelings that came along with it.
The ones that told him he couldn’t let her go again and he’d be making a huge mistake if he did.
No, he’d had those feelings about her before and it had damn near cost him his heart. He wasn’t going to risk that again, not with anyone, least of all her. So there had to be some way of minimizing them. Making them not so important. Making her not so important.
This house, this time together being totally alone, was a pressure cooker. A little bubble of closeness that was slowly suffocating him. Turning these feelings into something more than they were.
You need to get out. Get some space.
“Ash? Are you okay?”
He tore his gaze from the LA skyline and met her gaze. Her reddish brows were creased into a look of concern, worry in her eyes.
They were supposed to be here escaping the press, but according to Sam the fuss had died down, so maybe they could risk it.
It was either that or he let himself be at the mercy of his own heart. And he couldn’t do that.
Ash took her face between his hands, bent, and brushed her mouth over his. “Go get something warm to put on, sugar. We’re going out.”
…
Lizzie gazed dubiously at the piece of machinery Ash was fiddling with. “You want us to go out? On that?”
“’That’s my Harley. And there’s nothing wrong with her.”
Oh sure. Nothing wrong with hurtling through traffic surrounded by nothing but air. When there were a number of perfectly decent cars also in the garage they could be using. No, it was a mistake. In fact this whole “going out” idea was a mistake period. Wasn’t the whole idea of staying at his house so that they didn’t have to? So she could stay safe from the press?
Ash bent over the bike, fiddling with something on the handlebar. He was in jeans and a T-shirt, with a cap pulled low on his head, aviator shades held in his free hand. This was supposed to be his disguise, which was ridiculous because how could he disguise his height? Or his muscular build? Or the intensity of his charisma? It was impossible, that was what. There was no way he’d pass for an ordinary Joe. No way in hell.
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” she said for what was probably the millionth time. “We’re supposed to stay here, aren’t we? I mean, what about the press?”
“What about them?” Ash straightened. “Sam’s dealt with the fight drama so that’s not a problem anymore. There’s usually some paps lurking down by the gate but I’ve organized another diversion, they won’t know.”
“Of course they’ll know. You think a hat and some sunglasses makes you unrecognizable?”
Ash only grinned at her. “Relax. I’ve gone incognito before. Usually when I have to see my family. But no one’s ever guessed who I am. It’s all about context. People only expect to see what they expect to see and if they don’t expect to see Ash Kincaid wandering around then they won’t see him. Besides, it’s just a ride on the bike, okay? We’re not going to stop.”
Lizzie folded her arms. It all sounded perfectly logical and yet that didn’t help the feeling of deep unease that coiled inside her. Because what if someone did spot him? What would that mean for her?
The trepidation must have shown on her face because he said softly, “Hey, it’ll be fine, I promise.”
She let out a breath. “You can’t promise things like that.”
“No, but I can promise I’ll do my best to make it not happen. And if it does, you know I’ll promise to keep you safe.”
She shifted on her feet, irritated and uncomfortable. “I still don’t know why you think we need to go out anyway.”
“I don’t know about you, but I’m going stir-crazy here and I think you must be, too. It’ll be good for us to go out.”
“On that thing?” No, she didn’t like the idea, and his suggested mode of transport sucked.
He only grinned. “I could take the Ferrari if you like. That’s way less noticeable.”
Lizzie glanced at the bright-red machine currently sitting in the garage next to the Harley. “Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, you know.”
Ash only laughed. “It’ll be fine. I’ll just be some dude on an old bike, taking his beautiful girlfriend out for a spin.” He laid a hand on the black leather of the seat in an affectionate gesture. “This girl has taken me for some good rides for a good many years. She’ll look after us.”
“She? It’s just a bike, Ash.”
“Don’t be mean to Betty.”
“You seriously named your bike Betty?”
He glanced down at the machine, a half smile curving his mouth. “I didn’t name her. The guy I bought her off did. Seemed like a good name, so I kept it.”
“I would have thought a movie star didn’t need to buy secondhand bikes.”
“I wasn’t a movie star when I bought her.” He flashed her a look. “She was the first thing I bought with my paycheck from that fight-scene double job. The second thing I ever had that was mine and mine only.”
A peculiar feeling turned over in her chest. It was easy to forget where he came from. That when they’d met he had nothing but his security guard job and the money he earned from the street fights. Money that went straight back to his family. It had always made her feel self-conscious because whatever she might hate about her life with her mother, she’d had way more than he did. A room full of possessions that were all hers. Food whenever she wanted it. An allowance that enabled her to pretty much buy whatever she wanted. Things she’d never appreciated until she’d had to go out and earn a living like the rest of humanity.
Lizzie glanced down at the bike. Even to her untutored eye she could see that although the bike was old, the chrome was shiny and the paintwork was fresh. The leather of the seat polished and clean. This bike had been looked after. Loved.
Her heart gave an odd little skip. Ash was a movie star who made oodles of cash. Had a massive house in Beverly Hills with a garage full of hugely expensive boy toys. Yet she got the feeling that this bike—his very first ever—was the one he liked best of all.