Starstruck: Hollywood Heat, Book 3 Page 4

  Jenna was already next to his truck by the time he turned off the engine and climbed out. “Visitors are supposed to park on the street, but this spot’s been vacant since I moved in last month and your truck is too nice. I wouldn’t want anyone messing with it while you’re here.”

  Only one light shone in the parking lot, and it was far enough away that they were cloaked in shadows. His ride was insured, though, and wasn’t what he was worried about.

  “Can I walk you to your door?” Like hell he’d let her walk there alone. He wouldn’t leave until he knew she was inside her place, door locked, bolted, chained and even then he wasn’t sure he’d be going anywhere.

  She studied him as though she was considering the pros and cons of his question, only to finally answer, “Sure…if you promise to kiss me when we get there.”

  Everything she said and did charmed him a little more. In the middle of this rundown heap, she brightened the world.

  He tucked a strand of flyaway hair behind her ear. “You drive a hard bargain.”

  “I know, right? It’s in my blood. When I want something, I go after it with both hands…and lips.” She put those lips to work with a wide grin.

  Christ, did she understand the effect she had on him? The things he wanted to do with that mouth, that body. He wanted to see those lips stretch around his dick, listen to her throaty moans as he made love to her for hours on end.

  In this neighborhood, would anyone notice or care if he lifted her into the back of his Silverado and did just that?

  That reckless thought sobered him up. It wasn’t only the consideration of what the media would say about him if he was caught having sex with her. The reporters would take one look at where she lived and brand her a whore. He needed to tread carefully, for Jenna’s sake.

  “I concede to your terms.” Since he’d forgotten his baseball cap in the truck, there was nothing to get in the way of him kissing her. He leaned in and tasted her smile.

  “I like how you seal the deal,” she murmured when he pulled away. He kept a hand on her back as they walked toward the building.

  “Hey, lady Jenna!” one of the beer-drinking guys on the other side of the lot called out. “My bro appreciates you letting him use your parking spot when he visits his kids.”

  “Any time, Oscar.” She waved.

  “Wanna beer? We got enough for your guy, too, as long as he’s good enough for you.”

  “Did you want a beer?” Jenna asked. “Because I can vouch for you being good enough.” Even in the dark, he could see the mischievous glint in her eyes.

  All it would take was one of those guys snapping a pic on his cell phone, and Micah would make headlines for his personal life, not his career. Since that went against his whole being-cautious-while-getting-to-know-Jenna plan, he raised one eyebrow and said, “Are you trying to back out of our agreement? I don’t recall anything in there about deviations from walking you to the door.”

  She chuckled. “Looks like I’m not the only one who can play hardball.” Turning back to Oscar, she replied, “No thanks, you guys. Enjoy one for me though, ’kay?”

  They laughed and raised their beers in tribute.

  Jenna unlocked the outer door of the building and pulled it open. “This is the back way. The courtyard has a pool and trees, but I live right here.”

  The lights lining the truncated hallway made the beige-painted floor, ceiling and walls gleam a sickly shade of yellow. The stale air smelled vaguely of tortillas and heavily of cleaning products.

  She leaned back against the second door on the right. “This one’s mine.” Her lips tilted up. “So we made it to my door. I’m ready for the end terms of the deal.”

  Micah wished he could slip back into the easy flirting, pretend everything was okay and that this was just a simple, fun dating ritual for the end of the night, and that when she closed the door, she’d be safe. But not a single thing he’d seen in the last ten minutes had convinced him that her safety was guaranteed.

  Some of the light left her eyes as he stood there staring at her, wishing he could offer promises he wouldn’t let himself make only twelve hours after meeting her.

  She pushed away from the door, looking more like the nervous and wary Jenna he’d seen in holding after she’d been dismissed from set than the Jenna he’d gotten to know over the last couple hours. Shit. He’d done this to her. Again.

  “Micah?”

  Before she could say anything more, and before he could tell caution to fuck off so he could ask Jenna to come home with him, he took her face in his hands and kissed her. He tried to keep it gentle, but the quiet half-laugh, half-sigh that rose from her throat, her mouth softening against his, the way she wrapped her arms around him and dug her fingers into his hair, had him easing her back against her door and his front against her.

  He teased his tongue over her slightly parted lips then swept inside. Sweet, wet heat tangled together. His dick was hard, his entire body strained tight with everything he wanted to do to and for Jenna, but she didn’t shy away. She seamed her body to his so he felt every sexy curve, and took the kiss even deeper.

  His hands left her face, skimmed down neck, shoulders, arms, meeting at her hips and cradling her ass. He yanked her up and stepped between her thighs, their jeans rasping where they rubbed together.

  At a sharp pop-pop-pop, he jerked his mouth from Jenna’s. Fuck, was that gunshots?

  “Backfiring car,” she whispered, her voice husky, her breath ragged against his jaw.

  “Shit.” He leaned his forehead against the door inches from her head and pinched his eyes shut. He couldn’t catch his breath, his chest ached, his dick ached, his head whirled. “Dammit, Jenna, I don’t want to leave you here in this rundown dump. For God’s sake, there are hookers walking the street in front of your place and guys who look like gang members or drug dealers getting wasted in the parking lot.” He thumped his head against the wood. “I hate knowing you live in this place. You deserve better than this.”

  She pressed her hands against his shoulders, forcing his body off hers. Fuck. She was pushing him away. He should’ve kept his damn mouth shut.

  He met her eyes, an apology on his tongue, but the way she was looking at him… She wasn’t condemning him. She actually looked like she felt sorry for him. “It’s not that bad, Micah. These aren’t bad people; they’re just people without money. I’m saving up for a nicer place, but that’ll come in time…or maybe it won’t.” She shrugged. “I don’t need to hurry. I’m blessed with what I have right now.” She lowered a hand to his chest, traced fingers in slow circles above his breastbone. “I’d love for you to stay awhile. You’re welcome to come inside, we can talk, get to know each other…make out on my couch.” A slight glimmer of the teasing light returned to her eyes before she dipped her head. Her hand fell from his chest, and she dug keys out of her purse. “But if you only want to stay out of some sense of obligation or duty to take care of me, don’t.” She turned her back on him and fit the key into the lock.

  He snagged her hand, leaving the key hanging from the knob. He needed to say this before she opened that door, needed her to understand exactly what he felt so she could decide whether to retract her invitation. “Jenna, there are about a million reasons why I want to stay with you tonight. And yeah, one of those reasons is because I don’t like the idea of leaving you here alone. But the other 999,999 reasons have to do with how I feel about you and the things I want to do with you in the dark. And with the lights on. And on your couch, and in the bed, the bathtub, the kitchen countertops. And it’s for those very reasons that I should probably leave.”

  She hadn’t faced him while he’d spouted off about all the ways he wanted to fuck her. He wasn’t even sure if she’d breathed. Her hand returned to the key, and she eased the door open before turning back to him.

  “Stay. I want you to stay.”

  Chapter Five

  Jenna pushed open the door to her darkened apartment and scraped her palm ov
er the wall until she found the light switch. It took her a few tries to flip the switch since her hand was trembling. The pride she wore like a damn mantle had almost resulted in her pushing Micah away. True, she didn’t want him feeling sorry for her, but if he’d left her standing alone at her door, she would’ve been the one feeling sorry and angry at herself.

  She genuinely liked Micah. Liked the way he made her feel—a little off-kilter and a whole lot special. As an actor, she’d been taught to live in the moment, and there was no better moment than this one with Micah.

  He stood framed in her doorway, filling up the narrow enclosure with the body that had millions of women tuning in to see him as Mr. Sexy M.D. every week.

  This was the real Micah though. An intense stare, hair subdued from hours under a baseball cap, soft cotton, worn denim, lips slowly morphing into a killer grin the longer she visually devoured him from head to toe and back again.

  “When I invited you to stay,” she said, surprised at how husky her voice sounded, “I kind of hoped you’d make it past the doorway.”

  His eyes lit with mischief. “You sure you want to be behind closed doors with me?”

  Heat flooded her senses and her mouth went dry. Please, please, yes, please. Instead, she calmly managed, “Are you sure you want to be behind closed doors with me?”

  He stepped into her home, closed and locked the door behind him.

  Well then… Her purse thumped to the carpet. “I know I should be a good hostess and offer you a drink, but I really just want to kiss you again.”

  “That’s okay, I’m not thirsty.”

  “And I’m not a very good hostess.”

  She wasn’t sure which one of them moved first, but within seconds she was pinned between his body and the wall next to the light switch, her arms around his neck, his hands on her hips. A repeat performance of their kiss against the door, hot, wet, their tongues not the only things rubbing together.

  His right hand smoothed upward, just beneath the hem of her shirt. The touch she’d so badly craved earlier was finally coming to fruition, bare flesh against bare flesh, the warmth spreading from his caress. And oh, was it worth the wait. There was no rush in his movement, palm, fingers, thumb, the slowest of strokes, like he was memorizing the feel of her skin. Breathing heavily, he broke from the kiss to look down to where they touched.

  The yearning in his eyes as he stared had her gaze dropping as well. Her chest was rising and falling with each rapid breath. Below that his hand moved under her shirt, gradually advancing up her rib cage toward her breast. It was one of the hottest things she’d ever experienced, his intense hunger unleashing on her, watching him watch her, watching him touch her…want her.

  Her nipples tingled and drew into sharp, tight points, poking against the thin cotton of her bra and T-shirt. Micah exhaled a soft rumble and his hand inched higher until he cradled her breast, thumb rubbing the lower swell.

  Her head thumped against the wall as she sucked in gulps of air. Every one of her nerve endings was on fire. No one had ever paid such measured attention to her body before. It was almost too intense, this concentrated focus. She didn’t want it to stop, but she wasn’t sure how long she could stand it before she’d start squirming and moaning and gasping and begging.

  Apparently only about half a second. Wet heat surrounded her nipple as Micah drew it into his mouth. Even through two layers of fabric she felt his tongue rubbing along the distended tip, circling it, pulling it a little harder, a little deeper.

  She moaned an “oooohhhh”, her knees growing weak. Weaker still when he released her from his mouth only to have his thumb strum over the aching flesh. “Micah…” A name had never sounded so much like a plea before.

  “Damn.” He whistled a shuddering breath. “Jenna…all those reasons I wanted to stay tonight, they’re turning into reasons I may not ever leave.” His hand moved from her breast, making light, circular strokes over her abdomen.

  “I don’t remember ‘make Jenna melt into the wall’ on your list of reasons.”

  “It’s there.” Desire made his eyes turn aqua. “Make Jenna smile, laugh, melt, moan, come…they’re all on my list. Multiple times. Multiple places.”

  “Multiple?” Her legs were now officially made of Jell-O. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure I’m not going to let you out of here.” She tucked a finger through his belt loop, tugged him closer and smiled.

  “There’s one.” He ran his thumb over her lips. “I plan on earning a lot more of these smiles tonight.”

  “I remember you mentioning the couch.”

  “You want to go there next?”

  “It’s either there or the floor, because the way you’re going, I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be able to stand.”

  “So you’re saying I’m going to knock you off your feet again?” He finished his sentence by doing just that, hands on her ass, lifting her into the air.

  She laughed and grabbed hold of his shoulders, wrapping her legs around his waist.

  Her laughter didn’t last long. Sweet friction burned, the hard length of his cock rubbing against her crotch. He drew in a breath with a sharp hiss, and they both looked down to where their bodies were grinding together.

  “Where’s your couch?” he said between clenched teeth.

  Her place wasn’t that big, but they hadn’t even made it past the entryway yet. She vaguely gestured into the main room—the only room, outside of the bathroom and kitchen. “Just keep walking, you’ll run right into it.”

  Each step was a study in sexual torment. If denim ground together long and hard enough, could it start a fire? By the time they got to the couch, she was convinced the answer was yes.

  She’d expected him to put her down, but instead he sank onto the cushions, keeping her straddling his lap.

  “Good idea, the couch.” Micah’s gaze landed on her breast and the wet circle of fabric covering it. “I like the view.” He dipped his head and latched onto her nipple, biting it just enough to make her gasp and dig her fingers into his shoulders before he pulled back. Squeezing her hips, he tugged her a little closer, until she was riding the thick ridge of his erection.

  “The couch was a good idea…” the breath caught in her throat when the fly of his jeans—and the hardness behind it—dragged over her clit, “…but I’m really starting to hate pants. A lot.”

  “You look good in jeans though.” He smoothed his hands up and down her sides, the fabric of her tee bunching beneath his palms. “But you looked good in your Marilyn dress and the scrubs too. I could work with whatever you’re wearing.”

  “The scrubs were too big for me. I had to use a safety pin to keep them up.”

  “Well then, I definitely could work with those.”

  She laughed and kissed his grin, folding herself against him so there wasn’t a single place they weren’t touching. Rubbing. Grinding. It didn’t take long before their kiss was more gasps and moans, the exchange of panted breaths, the murmur of each other’s names.

  His hand tangled in her hair, tipping her head back as he ran nipping kisses down her neck. Her shirt was gathered in his other fist, and he lifted it to expose her breasts, which were covered in a simple white cotton bra. He released her hair, freeing his hand to tug the cup from her right breast. The fabric bunched underneath, keeping her breast buoyed, her nipple straining toward him. He stopped and stared, running his index finger around her areola, and the flesh puckered even more. She shivered, but not from cold.

  “Lift your arms for me,” he rumbled.

  She was happy to comply, anything to keep his intense need focused on her. When he pulled the shirt over her head, he let out a low whistle. “You look good in jeans and a bra too.” Fingertips trailed over her collarbone, before following the line of her bra strap. He yanked the cup below her other breast as well, so both were free to his visual perusal. “You are so sexy, Jenna. With your lips swollen and your hair rumpled and your body on display… The things you do to me. Fuck.” The
word came out on a ragged exhale, and he pinched his eyes shut. Her stomach clenched, because it seemed like he was cursing himself.

  When his eyes opened again they met hers, and the fierceness of his need stole her breath. He lifted her breast with his palm, manipulating the soft flesh there. “Your smile, your laugh. All of you. God, you’re beautiful.”

  This wasn’t the first time a man had told her she was beautiful or sexy. It wasn’t even the first time a man had said it to her during sex. But it was the first time Jenna felt those words like a full-body caress, like Micah was already inside her, not only in her body but in her head as well. Caressing her emotions, making love to her mind.

  “You make me feel beautiful,” she whispered, feeling lightheaded, dizzy with desire and a little bit of fear—at how much she wanted this…wanted him. She didn’t know her lines, didn’t know the script, didn’t know what was going to come next, and this kind of ad-libbing was as exhilarating as it was terrifying.

  His arms circled her and crushed her to him. This time their kiss was tinged with restless desperation, teeth clicking together, followed by bites and nips and moans.

  He nuzzled the junction where her neck met her shoulder, the bristles on his chin scraping rough against sensitive flesh. She held on to his shoulders and tilted her head back to encourage him to kiss her more…right…there. He obliged until she was pretty sure that a puddle of goo had more substance than she did. But he didn’t stop. Oh no. He moved that sexy jaw a little lower, rubbing his whiskers over her breast, around and around the hardened tip, making her pant and moan. His hands captured her hips, holding her against his erection, and he sucked her deliciously abused nipple into his mouth.

  She dug her fingers into his hair, needing an anchor. She was going to come—his mouth on her breast, his cock pressed against her throbbing clit. Not even naked, but it didn’t matter, because she’d never felt this good, drowning in so much heat and lust and desire. A body couldn’t build this high without release.