Ash must have decided on a different way to his place because they didn’t go the way they’d come. It took longer and was more circuitous, but no one followed them. Yet as they neared Ash’s place, the bike slowed, Ash pulling off to the side of the road. She soon saw why. There were a bunch of cars parked outside his driveway and people milling all around.
“Shit,” he said in a low voice. “They got here fast. Damn Internet.”
Lizzie swallowed. If they wanted to get to his place they were going to have to run the gauntlet and she wasn’t sure she could cope with that.
“We could go to my apartment,” she suggested hesitantly. “Wait it out there.”
“Good plan. Let’s do that.”
Ash didn’t wait. He hauled Betty around and took off down the street before anyone could spot them.
Twenty minutes later they arrived at her apartment building, mercifully paparazzi-free, and there was a brief moment of panic when she thought she’d left her keys back at Ash’s. But then she found them lurking way down the bottom of her purse, thank God.
But it was only when she was finally inside and the door was shut that the tension began to slowly relax inside of her.
Ash put down their helmets on the coffee table, then turned to take her hands in his. They felt so warm, which must mean that hers had gone cold.
“Hey, you’re white,” he said, chafing her fingers gently in his. “You’re really scared, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” Her mouth had gone dry.
His fingers curled around hers, holding on tight. Dark eyes searching her face. “Would it really be so bad if they recognized you?”
“You know it would. The days after that episode screened… My life went to hell. I got hassled unmercifully at school, those damn cameras followed me wherever I went, and Mom… Mom didn’t even care. Do you know what she said? She said she was proud of me for following in her footsteps.” She took a shuddering breath. “Like the fact that my privacy was destroyed didn’t even matter. And now…that anonymity and my job…I don’t want to be remembered as the porn star’s daughter, Ash. Because… Oh, God, what if that’s all I’ll ever be?”
Ash let her hands go and suddenly his arms were sliding around her, pulling her close. Holding her tight to the warm strength of his body. “You’re more than that, Lizzie,” he said. “You’ve always been more than that. You left and carved a life for yourself from nothing. That takes strength. That takes guts and determination, and passion. You’ll never be remembered only for that because you won’t let the world do that to you.” He bent his head, his breath brushing her ear. “You’re strong and you have more than enough courage to cope with anything, even the media.”
Lizzie leaned her head against his chest and put her hand on him, feeling the hard muscle beneath this T-shirt. So much strength and power. Gentleness, too. “I don’t know. Sometimes I can believe that. When you say it, I do.” She tilted her head back, looked up at him. “You can make me believe it.”
A strange expression crossed his face, one she didn’t understand, but she didn’t care because then his head bent and his mouth was on hers and he was kissing her. A gentle taste to reassure her.
But she didn’t need reassurance. She needed him.
Because now she knew with absolute certainty that there was no point thinking about having more time. Thinking about exploring what more they could have.
The near miss with the press had only highlighted how woefully underprepared she was for any kind of exposure. She couldn’t do it. Which meant she couldn’t do it with him.
After his treatments were done, she’d be gone.
Lizzie lifted her hand from his chest, tangled her fingers in his black hair, holding him in place as she kissed him harder, opening her mouth to deepen the kiss.
He made a soft growling sound, his arms around her tightening. “You want me, sugar?” he murmured against her mouth.
“Yes,” she panted out, not even bothering this time to hide how much. She didn’t have long with him and now she’d take what she could get while she could get it. “I want you so badly, Ash.” He’d always made it plain how much he wanted her, and right now she wanted to reciprocate.
“Show me how much.”
So she did, kissing him harder, deeper. Feverishly. The need for him filling her up like sunlight filling up a dark room. She slipped her tongue into his mouth, exploring him, tasting him. Sliding her fingers under his T-shirt up so she could stroke all that hard muscle, trace the dips and hollows of his abs, the powerful lines of his pectorals.
“That’s it,” he said roughly as she let one hand go lower. “Show me how much you want me.”
Her fingers brushed the fly of his jeans, moving down the long, hard length that pressed against the denim, tracing the outline of it. He made another rough, hungry sound so she did it again, the ache between her thighs growing.
“Oh, sugar,” he murmured. “That feels so good. Keep doing that.”
But it wasn’t enough. For too long she’d been letting him take the lead. Letting him take the initiative. Perhaps it was time she got over herself and showed him exactly what he made her want to do.
Lizzie dropped to her knees in front of him and began to undo his fly.
“Hey,” he said thickly. “You sure you want to be doing that?”
She glanced up at him. His eyes were glittering hungrily, the look on his face raw with desire. He’d always wanted her, had never hidden how badly. Now was the time to show him that she wanted him, too.
“I’m sure.” She pulled open his fly, reached into his boxers, drew out the rigid length of his erection. “I want you. Everything about you.”
“Lizzie…,” he whispered, the word ending in a sharply indrawn breath as she licked him.
She’d never gone down on a guy before. She’d never wanted to. But he’d always been different. Always. And now all she wanted was to give him as much pleasure as he’d given her. Once, when she’d been fifteen, she’d overheard a group of her mother’s friends—her mother had mercifully been absent—talk about the best methods to give a man head. She hoped she remembered it right because right now, she wanted to give him the best damn experience he’d ever had.
Lizzie opened her mouth, took him inside. She heard him groan, felt his hands tangle in her hair, holding on. She’d always thought being on her knees in front of man would be kind of degrading. Had always thought that the things her mother’s fellow actresses said about feminine power was a crock. Something the industry told them to make them feel better about their tawdry jobs.
But there was nothing degrading about kneeling in front of Ash and giving him pleasure. Nothing tawdry. And when she looked up into his face, saw him throw his head back, the cords of his neck taut as she moved her mouth on him, she felt powerful in a way she never had before.
His fingers tangled tighter in her hair as she took him deeper. “Oh, Lizzie…,” he said in a voice that was rough and raw. “That feels so good.”
She closed her eyes, gripping him in one hand, licking him, then sucking hard, losing herself in the taste and the feel of him, salty and hot. His fingers clutched her hair even tighter and the little prickles of pain that broke over her scalp only pushed her own need higher. A growl broke from him and she loved the sound of it. Loved that she could do this to him. Push his control the way he pushed hers.
Yet all too soon, she felt him tug her head away. “No. I want to be inside you,” he demanded harshly. “Right now.”
Oh, right. He thought he was calling the shots, huh? Not today. No, today he was going to lie there and take it. Today the shots were hers to call.
She rose to her feet, keeping her grip on the hot, rigid length of his shaft. Looked straight up into his dark eyes. “You want it? Then get on the couch.”
There was a flush to his cheeks, a stark, hungry look on his face. “You wanna be in charge? Is that how it’s going to work now?”
“Yeah, that’s how it’s going to work.” She squeezed him gently, hearing his breath catch.
“I don’t know what’s hotter. You in charge or you holding my cock.”
“Just get on the couch and stop talking.”
Slowly he began to back away over to the couch and she went with him, still holding him. The sense of power grew and along with it satisfaction that he was doing what she said, that she held one of the most vulnerable parts of him in her hand and he was letting her.
“Sit,” she said, releasing him.
He did, sinking down on the couch, his dark eyes on hers. God, he was so hot, sitting there aroused with his jeans open, a hungry, almost feral glitter in his eyes.
Mine.
The thought caught her hard in the chest, the rightness of it instinctive, primal. Yes, this man was hers. He’d always been hers. She’d run from him once before because she couldn’t handle him or her own feelings. But now the time for running was over.
He was hers. He’d claimed her and now it was her turn to claim him.
Lizzie held out her hand. “Condom.”
Ash shifted, sliding a hand into the back pocket of his jeans and dragging out his wallet. “You’re lucky I’ve got one.”
“No, sweetheart,” she said softly. “You’re going to be the lucky one.”
His smile held an edge of savagery to it. “I think I like you like this, Lizzie-girl. But don’t get too carried away. I’m not a guy who takes orders all the time.” He took out the condom and put it in her hand.
“Today you will,” she said. “Today you’re going to take my orders.”
“And why am I going to do that?” His eyes followed the movement of her hands as she ripped open the condom packet.
“Because it’s what I want.” She pushed his thighs apart, then knelt between them. “And because you’re mine, Ash.” Her hand covered him, rolling the condom down his rigid length, and she felt the hard muscles of his thighs go tight with strain.
“Yours?” he murmured as she rose to her feet again.
“Oh, yeah. You told me I was yours. So now it’s my turn to stake my claim on you.” She lifted her dress slowly, an inch at a time, and the way his gaze followed the hem made a burst of excitement go through her. This sexual kind of flaunting she’d never felt comfortable with. It felt too close to the kind of life her mother had had.
And yet now it felt right. Arousing. Powerful. There wasn’t anything dirty about it. Or meaningless. Or cheap.
Ash’s body tensed as she hooked her fingers into the waistband. “Oh no you don’t,” she whispered. “You move, you get nothing. You wanted me to let go, Ash, and I did. Now it’s time you gave me something. And I want the control.”
“Lizzie…” The word sounded dragged from him.
“Be a good boy and put your hands on your thighs. Keep them there.”
She could see him weigh up whether he was going to obey her not. And for a second she thought he wouldn’t do it. Disappointment cut like a knife. But then, so slowly, his hands eased onto his thighs, fingers digging into the denim. “You drive a hard bargain,” he said hoarsely.
The disappointment vanished. Yes, he was into this. He wanted her enough to keep going.
Any inhibitions she had left fell by the wayside. Keeping her eyes on his taut features, she pulled down her panties then slid them off. He said nothing, watching her. His chest rose and fell, fast and hard in time with his breathing.
She took a step forward, lifting her dress and straddling him. They’d done this before in his private cinema the night they’d first made love. But this time it was different. This time she held the power, and boy, was she going to use it.
“Oh…Lizzie…,” he murmured, the muscles in his arms flexing.
“Uh-huh.” She wagged a finger in front of his face. “Keep your hands where they are, movie star. I’m doing the honors now.”
He let out a growl but obeyed her.
Exhilaration swept through her. An intense, female sense of power. She reached down, taking him in her hand again, then she guided him inside her, sliding down on the hard length of his shaft, shuddering as he filled her. God, how she loved the feeling of him there. The connection she felt with him.
“Jesus Christ…Lizzie…” His voice low and harsh.
She leaned forward, took his face between her hands, looked into the darkness of his eyes. “You’re mine, Ash Kincaid,” she whispered softly. “You’re mine.”
Then she began to move, a gentle undulation of her body. Keeping her gaze on his. And he didn’t look away. Watching her as if he was a man wandering in the dark and she was the only light.
Beneath her his body shuddered, the strain of keeping himself still showing in his face. In the taut line of his jaw. In the harsh sounds of his breathing.
“You’re mine,” she said again, her own voice hoarse. “Do you understand?”
“God…”
She slowed, her motions gradual. Tantalizing the both of them. “Who do you belong to, Ash?” she murmured. “Who?”
A strange expression crossed his face. And if she didn’t know any better she would have said that it was fear. But then how could it be fear? This man wasn’t afraid of anything. “Ah, Christ…”
She stopped, gripping him tightly. Because all of a sudden this felt vitally important. “Who do you belong to?”
Ash didn’t say anything for a long moment. There was something anguished in his face that she didn’t understand, something that made her breath catch. But then he abruptly leaned forward and his mouth was on hers, kissing her hard. His hands no longer on his thighs but wrapping around her hips, holding her still as he began move, thrusting up into her fast and deep.
She knew she should pull away then. Knew she should stop him somehow. That the fact that he hadn’t replied meant something. But pleasure burst inside her, a sweet flood of sensation that washed away all her protests. Drowned all her doubts. Left her gasping, clutching on to his powerful shoulders as he drove them both to the edge and over it into ecstasy.
Chapter Eleven
Ash slid out of bed and sat on the edge of it, scrubbing a hand through his hair. Beside him, Lizzie moved restlessly and he glanced to check that he hadn’t woken her. But no, her eyes were closed and as he watched, she settled once more into stillness. Unable to help himself, he reached over to gently tangle a finger in the raw silk of her hair. The red curl was so soft. Like the rest of her. Soft and warm and so beautiful his breath caught.
Who do you belong to, Ash?
He took his hand away. Turned and got to his feet, moving restlessly out of the bedroom, down the little hallway and out into the living area. A galley kitchen was situated along one wall, a breakfast bar separating the kitchen from the rest of living space.
He skirted the breakfast bar, going over to the kitchen sink. Then he found a glass and filled it with water, took a long drink. He felt thirsty, hot, and restless. Perhaps he was coming down with something?
Putting the glass back down on the counter, he then turned and leaned back against the cool metal of the sink. To his right, the living room windows looked out into the road outside the apartment. No magnificent views here, just an ordinary street.
Who do you belong to, Ash?
His jaw tightened. He didn’t want to keep thinking about that. Or about the fact that he hadn’t been able to give her the answer she wanted. He didn’t belong to anyone and he didn’t want to. That was just the way it was. He hadn’t said it, either, because he knew that wasn’t what she wanted to hear. Because it would hurt her.
That wasn’t even going into the fact that it wasn’t fair. He’d demanded the same thing of her and she’d given it up for him. Told him she belonged to him. Yet he couldn’t say the same.
It made him angry. At himself for not being able to give her what she wanted and at her for even demanding it of him.
Shit, it didn’t make any sense. Perhaps it should have been easy to say. An easy thing to give. But for some reason it wasn’t. Not after he’d belonged so completely to everyone else before he’d gotten his big break. And not after he’d nearly given himself to her once before, only for her to leave him.
“Ash?” Lizzie’s figure appeared suddenly from the hallway. She had a sheet wrapped around her, the end trailing as she came over to the kitchen area. “Why are you up?”
“I was thirsty. Had to get a drink of water.”
She skirted around the breakfast bar, moving to where he stood with his back to the sink. She slid her arms around his waist, leaning against him. “I wondered where you were.”
“Did I wake you up?”
“No.” She glanced up at him. “Yes.”
He pushed a loose curl back behind her ear. The warmth of her body against his was already starting to have an effect on a certain part of his anatomy. God, he was never going to get enough of her, was he? The feelings he’d had back at his house, the feelings of suffocation and tightness, began to gather again. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I don’t mind being woken.” She pressed a kiss to his chest. “As long as I get to sleep in. With you, of course.”
“Of course.” He put his arms around her, sliding his palms over her butt. “We should get an early start, though. Hopefully the paps will be gone by then.”
“Hmmm.” She turned her head, resting her cheek on his chest. Her eyes had closed, reddish lashes feathering her cheekbones.
And it struck him like a hammer to the middle of his chest that in a couple of weeks this would be over. That she would be gone. Back to her job. Back to her own life. Away from him.
It should be a good thing. It should make all those horrible, suffocating feelings go away. But it didn’t.
If the thought of her leaving makes you feel this way, why not get her to stay?
His mind began to whir feverishly. Yeah, maybe that was the answer. He didn’t want to let her go after all, not yet at any rate. Maybe keeping her with him longer, or at least until they’d both had enough, would make that sense of suffocation go away.
His arms tightened. “Lizzie,” he murmured. “You should stay.”
“What?” she asked sleepily. “Stay where?”
“Stay with me.”
She rubbed her cheek against him. “Well, I will. For another week or so at least.”
“I’m not talking about another week.”
There was a moment of silence. Then Lizzie lifted her head to look at him. “I thought we talked about that.”
“I know we talked about it. But that was last week.”
“Nothing’s changed, Ash.” Her eyes were dark in the dim light of the kitchen. “Being with you will make my life impossible.”
“Why? Because of the past?”
She’d stiffened in his arms. “Of course. Even apart from that, I’ve got a job to think about. How can I be any kind of nurse while I’m being followed by a paparazzi pack?”
“But being a nurse, your past…they’re not all you are, Lizzie. You’re more than that. And hell, if it’s your job that’s really worrying you—”
Lizzie suddenly twisted, pushing herself away from him, clutching her sheet around her. “Are you completely insane?” The look on her face told him that yeah, she thought he probably was. “It’s not just the job. I told you, I don’t want all that American Porn Star crap brought up again. I put Coco Dawn behind me years ago and that’s where I’d like her to stay.”
A strange feeling went through him. As if something was slipping through his fingers and he was powerless to stop it. He ran a hand though his hair to stop from reaching out and grabbing her instead. “The paps won’t be after you all the time. Just give it six months.”
“Six months of what? Living with you as your girlfriend? Sitting by the pool, fluffing my hair and painting my nails? Oh sure, that’s totally me.”
“That’s not all you can do, Lizzie. There are charities you can get involve—”
“What about you?”
For a second he didn’t quite understand what she meant. “What do you mean what about me?”
“If you want me to stay with you so bad why can’t you give up your job?”
He blinked. “What? Give up the movies?”
“You could, Ash. You could just walk away.”
A cold feeling went through him. Give up acting? “And how do you figure that?”
She stepped closer to him suddenly, her hands resting on his chest, a hopeful look on her face. “Think about it. You could drop this audition. You could…I don’t know, not take on any more movie roles. You’ve got lots of money, Ash. You probably don’t even need to work for the rest of your life.”
The cold feeling sat like an ice cube in his chest and not even the warmth of her palms resting on him could make it go away. “So I’d move in here with you?”
“Yes. Why not?” The look on her face was bright with hope. “Or we could get another place. Or maybe we could even leave LA and go somewhere else. Where no one knows you and—”
“Hate to break it to you, sugar, but everyone knows me. You think the paps would leave us alone?”
“What about New York? They’re much cooler about stars there, aren’t they?” Her thumbs moved on his bare skin, stroking. “I’d get a job and you’d…”
“I’d what?”
One pale shoulder lifted. “Perhaps you’d get a job, too.”
“Doing what exactly?”
“I don’t know, but you’d find something.”
“Sure I could. An ex-movie star with no other job experience. No qualifications. No education. I’m sure there’d be lots of people who’d employ me.” He couldn’t stop the sarcasm from edging his tone. Because really, what the hell was she thinking? He couldn’t just stop being a movie star. The fame didn’t go away just because he didn’t do another movie. Anyway, even besides that, what the hell else would he do? For the past eleven years he’d pursued success, putting as much distance between him and the loser life he’d once had as he could. Now, with this potential new role with Christiansen, he was on the verge of something more. Something even better. And he couldn’t just throw that away.
The bright look on Lizzie’s face had started to dim. “Okay, well not a job then. Hey, you don’t even need to work. You could—”
“Fluff my hair and paint my nails while waiting for you to get home at night?”
Even in the dimness of the kitchen he could see her flush. “It doesn’t have to be like that, Ash.”
“Then what would it be like? Because you’re not the only one who’s worked hard to get where they are now. You’re not the only one who would have to give up everything they’ve worked for.”
She looked at him for a long moment, the light draining entirely from her face this time. “You said you’d have given up everything for me once. That you would have done anything to make it work. That you…l-loved me.”
The ice cube in his chest had finally melted, leaving behind it a hot coal instead. A hot coal of steady, smoldering anger. “And I did. Once. But you never gave me the chance to do any of that.”
A flash of pain crossed her face. She eased herself away from him, the look in her eyes gone dark. “What about if I gave you the chance now?”
He shifted against the counter, tension gripping him. He’d thought he was done with this anger, thought he’d left it behind years ago. But the day she’d left him… He’d never felt so powerless. He couldn’t give up that power now. “I’m sorry. It’s too late for that.”
She stood very still, holding her sheet against her. “Then what do you want?”
“You. For however long this…thing between us lasts.”
“Then what? When it’s over? What do I do then? After I’ve given up everything for you?”
Something had caught behind his breastbone. Something painful. He shifted again, angry. What the hell did she want from him? A promise of forever? He’d once wanted to give her that, but not anymore. “Perhaps it might not end. Perhaps we’ll—”
“Perhaps. You’re asking me to give up everything on a ‘perhaps.’”
“Shit, you want a guarantee? I can’t give you guarantees.”
“No, you just want everything from me while giving nothing of yourself in return.”
Anger burned hotter inside him. “Yeah, and why the hell shouldn’t I keep something for myself? I gave you everything I had eleven years ago and you tossed it back in my face. You were the best goddamned thing that had ever happened to me and then you left. Without even a word. And I could do nothing about it. Nothing.” The same old feelings of helplessness rose up inside him like a cloud of dust, choking him.
It was always like this, wasn’t it? He’d never been enough for anyone. Even her, the one person he’d thought loved him for himself, had left him in the end.
She stood close, clutching her sheet around her lovely body, her hair around her head in a soft cloud, and a look of anguish crossed her face. “I’m sorry, Ash. You have no idea how sorry I am. But… I don’t know what more I can do. I don’t know what more I can say. I can’t change the past. All I can do is keep moving forward.”
“You’re right,” he said hoarsely. “That’s all we can do.”
“So…where does that leave us?”
“In the same place.” There was nothing he could do either, could he? Nothing he could say. This was the right decision. The right choice. He couldn’t make her sacrifice the life she’d created for herself, just as he couldn’t give up for her everything he’d worked for. “Another week and then we go back to our normal lives.”
“Keep doing what we’re doing now, you mean?”
He reached out, gripped her hips, pulling her in close so he could feel her again. “Yeah, why not? It’s good what we’ve got now, isn’t it?”
For a second Lizzie just stood there, motionless. Then she put her hands on his chest and pushed herself away from him. Hard. “Don’t,” she said in a soft, breathless voice. “Just…don’t.” The look on her face made his chest hurt.
“What?” He resisted the urge to reach for her again, keeping his fists tight at his sides.
She stared at him and for a second the silence between them felt so heavy it was like being at the bottom of the ocean with the whole weight of the sea pressing down on his head.
“You couldn’t say it,” she murmured. “I wondered why not, and now I know.”
“What?” The question came out of left field, puzzling him.
“I asked you who you belonged to and you couldn’t answer. Because you’re not mine and you don’t want to be.”
“You said you weren’t a possession, Lizzie-girl. Well, I’m not either.”
For one brief second the expression on her face crumpled and raw pain leaked out. Then abruptly she turned away. “I get it.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
“It’s fine, Ash. I guess it’s me getting my just desserts for eleven years ago. I didn’t want you enough to stay then and you don’t want me enough to be with me now.”
He couldn’t say it wasn’t like that, because she was right. That’s exactly what it was. He reached out, tried to take her arm anyway, but she avoided him, neatly sidestepping.
“I’m okay with it, Ash. I really am. Perhaps it’s for the best anyway.”
His hand fell to his side, fingers curled into a fist. She was radiating “don’t touch me” vibes and he wanted to push but some instinct held him back. “But we’ve still got this week, right?” he said. “I’ve still got the next week with you.”
She’d gone past him, around the other side of the breakfast bar. But as he spoke she stopped, her figure stiff with tension, her face hidden by a fall of hair. For a long moment she didn’t say anything. Then abruptly she looked at him. “You know, on second thought, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
The hot coal in his chest burned bright. “What do you mean it’s not a good idea?”
“I mean perhaps we should call it quits right now.”
Now? But he wasn’t ready now. He took a step toward her. “You promised me two weeks.”
“I didn’t promise you anything. In fact the only thing I promised you was that this affair was going to end once your treatment had finished.”
“Yeah, that’s right. And it hasn’t finished yet.”
She stared at him. “Not for you, maybe. But for me it has. As of now, I’m quitting as your nurse.”
He blinked at her. “What?”
“You heard me. I quit. I’ll organize someone else to finish up your treatment. And as for the blackmail, well…I guess I’ll soon find out how much of a douche you really are when Helen calls me into her office.”