The Walk of Fame (12 page)

Heat pounded at her core.

He shifted. ‘I hate to rush you,’ he murmured, his voice gruff, ‘but I’ve so little blood left in my brain I’m about to pass out.’

She giggled, the feeling of power making her light-headed. To have him at her mercy was more of a thrill than she could ever have imagined.

She touched the head of his erection. At his sharp intake of breath she glanced up to see heavy-lidded eyes watching her and waiting. Unable to hold back a moment longer, she circled him and drew her fingers down the swollen length.

He hissed and his flesh bobbed violently.

She snatched her hand back, horrified. ‘Did I hurt you?’

He chuckled, the sound tense. ‘Not in the way you mean, darlin’.’ He inclined his head. ‘But would you take off the lingerie? I’d be a lot happier if I could enjoy the view while you torture me.’

Despite the cheeky tone, it had been more demand than
request. She blew out a careful breath, then got off the bed and unhooked her bra. She let it drop to the floor, then with clumsy hands slipped off her knickers. Heat spread across her chest as she stood before him. Her nipples hardened, stimulated by the air-conditioning and the fierce appreciation in his gaze.

‘You’re gorgeous,’ he said as he took her hand and coaxed her back onto the bed. He dipped his head, looped his arm round her neck as she settled beside him. She could feel the heat pumping off his body, took a staggered breath and tasted sea and sun and the musky scent of man.

He shifted to lean over her, fumbled for a moment, then lifted the telltale foil package out of a drawer in the bedside table. Holding her cheek, he kissed her long and hard, his tongue dominating, exploring and then retreating in a rhythm that robbed her of breath.

As he concentrated on sheathing himself she trailed her fingers down his chest, and cupped the heavy weight of him in her palm.

He drew away and caught her wrist. ‘I’m too close, darlin’. We’ll have to leave that lesson for another day.’

Drawing his palms down her sides, he moved down the bed, his lips capturing her nipple.

She gasped as his teeth tugged and teased the swollen peak. She writhed, sinking her hands into his hair as his mouth moved lower, his tongue circling her belly-button. The rough, torturous strokes had her breath lodging in her throat and her skin burning hot.

But then he moved lower still, his head no longer within range of her grasping fingers. Pushing her thighs gently apart, he cupped her bottom and placed his mouth on her core.

Juno jerked in shock at the intimate caress. Fire rocketed through her, her body pulsing with a need so fierce she thought she might faint. ‘I can’t think,’ she cried.

His palms rested warm on her thighs as he smiled up at her. ‘There’s no need to think,’ he said. ‘Just let go.’

His lips were on her again, branding the heated flesh. She squirmed and struggled against the exquisite torture, but he held her in place, and completely open to him, as his tongue probed and ravished. The shocking sensations sent her senses spinning as the vicious spirals coiled at her core.

‘I can’t. It’s too much. Please stop,’ she moaned.

But he didn’t stop, his tongue, his lips, his mouth, crucifying her on an altar of ecstasy as she soared over that impossible peak. Her back arched as she sobbed out her release, then collapsed shaking onto the pillows.

She still shivered moments later, shuddering with the aftershocks of the vicious climax when she opened her eyes and saw him smiling down at her, his body poised above her.

‘That was beautiful to watch, Juno.’

And unbearably arousing, Mac thought as his erection throbbed against the soft skin of her thigh.

Her face coloured a dark and vivid pink.

‘Don’t …’ He stroked a hand down her cheek as she tried to look away. ‘Don’t be embarrassed, sweetheart. You’re incredible, the way you respond. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.’

‘I know, it’s just …’ She gave a shy smile, which had his heart flip-flopping. ‘I can’t believe… I’ve never done that before.’

The amazement, the astonishment in her voice had the brutal ache in his groin twisting harder. He touched his forehead to hers, tried to slow his breathing. He wanted, desperately, to bury himself inside her, to pound away until he’d slaked himself. But, more than that, he didn’t want to hurt her. ‘Let’s wait a minute now.’

‘Why? I don’t want to wait,’ she said.

He cursed quietly, his control faltering. Why indeed?

‘All right, then.’ He gripped her hips, settled between her thighs and pressed into the slick folds. He heard her breath catch in shock at the fullness of the penetration. He could give her only a few agonising seconds to adjust before he had to
move, the tight clasp of her body torturing him. Her fingers grasped the back of his neck and the last thin thread on his control broke. He thrust into her, again and again, spurred on by the pulsing grip of her orgasm.

His own vicious climax roared through him as her shocked sobs of release echoed in his ear. Totally spent, he collapsed on top of her.

‘Mac, my leg’s gone numb.’

The softly spoken plea yanked Mac back to complete consciousness.

‘Damn, sorry.’ He lifted off her, flopped on to his back and covered his eyes with his arm. Bitterly annoyed with himself.

He supposed he owed her an apology. He’d taken her like a madman.

To think he’d been up half the night, deciding on a course of action, and he’d blown it already.

All during the flight he’d been brutally aware of her sleeping beside him. He’d made himself work to keep from touching her. Not that he’d got much done, with his ears tuned to every small movement or sound she made. It was madness.

When he’d carried her to the guest bed at four in the morning, he’d been so desperate to wake her and make love to her, he’d forced himself to leave her be.

Surely he could do without her for one night? Show some restraint. She was exhausted and so was he, and, anyway, she was here for two whole weeks. What was the rush?

He’d managed to grab a few hours’ sleep in his own bed. But he’d woken up fully aroused all the same. A six-mile jog and a swim in the freezing cold Pacific Ocean—and still the need hadn’t gone away.

When he’d seen her on the terrace, that letterbox-red dress hugging her curves and her eyes alight with surprised arousal, he’d stood to attention with no effort at all. Like a boy of thirteen instead of a man in his thirties.

He’d never wanted a woman this much before in his life. It was starting to concern him.

Feeling her hesitant touch on his heated flesh had been a unique kind of torture. But still he’d managed to pull back, had been determined to pleasure her first to prove he could show at least a little of his usual finesse. But her quickfire response, the dewy taste of her arousal had driven him over the edge, and he’d taken her with an urgency that had been nothing short of brutal in the end, despite all his best intentions.

What if he’d hurt her again?

‘Are you all right?’ He forced the words out. ‘I didn’t plan to be so rough there at the end.’

She gave a long contented sigh. ‘Was that rough? It didn’t feel rough, it felt fantastic.’

He opened his eyes to find her smiling at him, her eyes bright with wonder. The trusting look made his heart stir in a way he didn’t like.

There was nothing he wanted more right now than to let himself off the hook. But what did she know about sex? About what she really wanted, or what she deserved? Next to nothing, he suspected. She was probably tender as hell at the moment. He’d taken her too fast, too hard. But she probably didn’t realise he could have made it better for her if he’d slowed down, if he’d not been so selfish.

Maybe it was about time he found out about what had happened six years ago. So he could stop torturing himself over it? He didn’t want it hanging over him. Making him feel responsible for something he’d had no part of.

‘What made you wait so long, Juno?’

‘E
XCUSE
me?’ Juno stammered.

Mac looked so serious, so sombre, his eyes a penetrating icy blue.

‘Six years,’ he said. ‘Why did you wait so long? What happened?’

Realisation dawned. She sat up, tugging the sheet over her breasts, the warm feeling of afterglow gone. ‘I’m famished. How about I make us a proper breakfast?’

She scooted over to the edge of the bed, intending to make a bolt for the bathroom, but he grabbed hold of the sheet she was using to cover herself, halting her escape in mid-scoot.

‘I want to know what happened. Why won’t you tell me?’

Was he serious? She turned to see the determination in the harsh line of his jaw. Her stomach sank. Apparently he was. ‘Why do you want to know?’

He let out a slow breath. ‘It’s been bugging me. I can’t seem to get it out of my head.’

‘But it was years ago.’ She didn’t want to talk about her past. Not now she was finally breaking free of it.

He let go of the sheet, moved closer to brush the hair back from her brow. ‘You waited six years. And then you chose me. I want to know why.’

‘But that’s silly, it has nothing to do with you. It doesn’t matter any more.’

‘It does to me.’

Why was he being so stubborn? So insistent? It made no sense at all. And then she understood, and her stomach plummeted to her toes. This was exactly the indignity she’d tried to avoid. ‘If you want me to leave…If I’m not exciting enough for you, all you have to do is say so.’

He swore and grabbed her round the waist as she put her feet on the floor. ‘Stop being so defensive. It’s nothing like that.’ He folded her in his arms, hugging her tight and making it impossible for her to go anywhere. ‘You’re sweet and surprising and sexy as hell and I like spending time with you. Especially in bed.’

Juno felt warmth spread through her at his easy compliments and wanted to kick herself. How pathetic that she should be so grateful for any scrap he was willing to throw her way.

‘So why do you care about my past?’ It hadn’t been part of their deal. She’d persuaded herself she could handle the intimacy, but this felt like more than she’d bargained for.

His chest rose against her back in a heavy sigh. ‘Maybe I’m simply curious, or maybe it’s because I’m an actor and knowing people, understanding their emotions, figuring out what makes them tick is part of my job.’

She tried to shrug off his arms, but the hug only tightened.

Her temper spiked. ‘I’m not talking about my past just because it’s your job to be a nosy parker.’

He chuckled, making her temper spike some more.

‘How about I ask you another question, then?’ he said, his lips teasing her ear lobe. ‘If what happened to you six years ago doesn’t matter any more, why won’t you tell me about it?’

She stopped struggling, her temper deserting her when she needed it most.

Why couldn’t she tell him about it?

‘The fact that you’re so damn secretive makes it seem like it does matter,’ he continued, the teasing note gone from his voice. ‘And that’s what’s bugging me.’

She didn’t know what to say to him. It didn’t matter, but
she still didn’t want to tell him about it. And the reason why was simple. She was deeply ashamed of what had happened six years ago. Of how naïve and immature she’d been. And she didn’t want Mac to judge her.

Which was ludicrous. This was just a casual fling. Two weeks from now she’d leave his home and probably never see him again. Why should she care what Mac Brody thought of her?

Her heart thumped hard against her chest. Blast. She’d have to tell him about Tony. Because if she didn’t she’d be admitting to herself, not only that Tony still had the power to hurt her, but that Mac could too.

‘I need a shower first,’ she said grudgingly. She felt exposed enough already; she wasn’t talking about this naked.

He gave her a final squeeze, then let her go. ‘Go right ahead,’ he said, sounding suspiciously pleased with himself. ‘How about I rustle us up that proper breakfast you mentioned? I’ve worked up a bit of an appetite myself.’

‘All right,’ she said grudgingly, her own appetite as good as gone.

Following the smell of frying bacon, Juno stopped in the kitchen doorway and held back a sigh. Mac stood in front of the stove, dressed only in a pair of worn jeans, his T-shirt draped over a chair. He looked like a female fantasy come to life as he transferred bacon onto plates already piled high with eggs and toasted muffins.

Goodness, was it any wonder he’d manipulated her so easily? Just remembering what he’d done to her this morning had made her feel shaky in the shower. The man had the ability to make any woman lose her grip on reality. Once she’d got this humiliating ordeal out of the way she’d make sure she was more careful next time. Pheromones were dangerous things, and Mac had a devastating effect on hers.

He glanced over his shoulder. ‘You want to grab some cutlery? It’s in the top drawer.’

‘Okay,’ she said, her mouth going dry. She never would have expected him to cook for her. No man had ever cooked for her before. She pulled the cutlery out of the drawer and pretended not to notice the rapid ticks of her heartbeat. Maybe he’d forgotten what they’d agreed to talk about. The more she’d thought about it, the more it seemed odd that he would even want to know about the girl she’d been. Let alone be interested in discussing it.

He slid the plates onto the table and nodded at one of the chairs. ‘Take a seat. We should eat it before it gets cold.’

‘I’m impressed,’ she remarked, her mouth watering at the lavish breakfast he’d cooked. She sat down and picked up her fork. ‘This looks delicious.’

If he wasn’t going to mention it, she certainly didn’t plan to.

He held up the coffee pot. ‘You want a cup?’

‘Yes, please,’ she said, starting to relax. The salty aroma of the bacon made her stomach growl as she took a bite. ‘This beats muesli any day.’

By the time she’d polished off the meal she was feeling almost mellow, sure that he’d forgotten about their agreement in the bedroom.

Seeing he was already finished and nursing another cup of coffee, she picked up his plate. ‘How about I wash up?’