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“I wouldn’t. You deserve to have everything the way you want it.” He pauses. “And Vegas would probably be the worst place to have a secret wedding. Word would get back to your father in no time.”
“I definitely don’t want that.”
He holds up two T-shirts. “Help me decide. Black or dark black?”
“What, no light black?” I tease. Leaning up, I run my hands over his chest. “What are you planning to wear to the Elimination Date premiere?”
“I’m not planning anything.” He kisses the tip of my nose. “That’s a girl thing. I’ll throw on the first clean items I find. Are you looking forward to it?”
“Yes. It’ll be fun. I’ll have you home for a few days. Get to hear your song in a movie.”
“I’m not sure I’ll believe it until I actually hear it. Still convinced we’ll get a phone call saying it’s been cut.”
“They better not,” I growl.
“So feisty.” He kisses my cheek again and then returns to packing.
I slap my alarm off the next morning. Next to me, Chaser groans.
The script I tossed on my nightstand last night catches my attention. I never even flipped it open. I sit up and pluck it out of the envelope, flipping through pages for the scenes I’m in.
“You’re cute when you’re so focused,” Chaser whispers.
I glance down and find him staring up at me. “Creep.” I whap him with my script.
He curls his hand around my leg and pulls me closer. “What’s happening this week on Shallow End?” He gasps and widens his eyes. “Will someone confront their stalker?”
I fall over laughing. “We’ve only had three stalker story lines.”
“I love making you laugh.” He tickles his fingers over my ribs and sits up, pulling me into his lap.
“Stop! I need to finish this.” I frown, flipping through the pages. “I think they’re bringing in sharks?”
“Isn’t it set at a pool?”
“Yeah, but they let us go to the beach sometimes.”
He starts humming the theme from Jaws and nibbles on my arm.
“You’re…” I’m laughing too hard to finish my sentence.
“What, little dove?”
“Dangerous!” I slap his chest and try to wriggle out of his lap.
His eyes spark with the fire that excites me every time it blazes and his arm clamps around my waist, holding me tight. “Yeah, but I’m the best kind of dangerous.”
“How’s that?” I gasp, rubbing myself against him.
He runs his fingers under the edge of my underwear, slowly peeling the material out of his way. “Because all I want to do is make you happy.”
I gasp as his knuckles brush against my skin. My whole world shrinks to where his thumb rubs over my clit. “Oh,” I moan, “That’s making me very happy right now.” Heat slides down my spine, intensifying the ache between my legs.
He leans forward, kissing the column of my throat. “Do you want me to make you come?”
“God, yes. More than anything.”
“How?”
My heart pounds with nervous anticipation. I reach down and move the sheet out of my way. Slowly, I slide my hand up and down his erection. “On your cock.”
Tension has his muscles locked tight. “My pleasure.” The desire coiled in his hoarse voice and the heat of his skin drives my need higher. He squeezes my hip. “Come here,” he whispers.
I straddle his lap, positioning myself over him. He slides my underwear to the side and continues stroking me. Slowly, I lower myself over him, gasping with excited pleasure when he nudges my entrance.
A flash of pain crosses his face. “Easy. You don’t have to—”
“No, you feel so good.”
His muscles shake with the effort of holding back. While I slowly rock my hips, taking him inside. I pant and shudder as he spreads me open. “I feel you everywhere,” I whisper.
“Don’t be upset if I don’t last long.”
I wrap my arms around his neck. Our foreheads meet and I roll my hips with more urgency while staring into his eyes.
“You’re my whole world.” He strokes his fingertips up and down my spine. “My everything.” His feather-light touches push me toward the edge. I buck harder, my eyes rolling back in my head. I’m swept away.
His breathing’s hard and choppy, holding back. “Come, come with me,” I urge. He’s tried so hard to be gentle, but now his fingers dig into my hip. He dips his head and scrapes his teeth over my nipple.
Finally, he throws his head back, a raw sound rumbling from his throat. I can’t stop touching him. Running my fingers over his neck and shoulders, down his stomach. His body jerks and twitches. “You’re tickling me, little dove.”
“Tickling.” I tease my fingers, feeling his cock jerk inside of me. Little aftershocks. “I think we’re doing it wrong if it tickles.”
He grabs my hips and lifts me off him, rolling us so he’s on top, staring down at me. “There was nothing wrong about that.”
I wrap my arms around his neck and pull myself up to kiss him over and over. “Thank you.”
“Come on.” He presses a quick kiss to my lips. “Let’s get you showered and ready for work.”
I don’t want to leave our little love island. I want to spend every second I can with him while he’s here. “Do you want me to drop you off at the airport?”
“Nah, I’ll call for a car.”
“Are you sure?”
He leans down and kisses my cheek. “If you take me to the airport, there’s a good chance I don’t get on the plane.”
At least I know we’re both feeling the strain of him leaving.
My beautiful, perfect, love-soaked morning takes a dark, confusing twist as soon as I park my car at the studio. A swarm of people rush me as I try to cross the parking lot to get into the building.
Swept up in a sea of strangers, flashbulbs, and question, my b
ody locks up. I freeze, unsure of how to respond.
“Mallory, do you want to share your side of the story?”
“W-what story?”
“Your miscarriage.”
“It’s no one’s business.” I hate the trembling indignance in my voice. How dare they ask me such an invasive question. “Chaser and I would appreciate some privacy and respect.” I elbow my way through and refuse to say anything else.
“What about the rumors that you were carrying Andrew Lane’s child? Do you want to address those?”
The question stops me cold. Why would anyone assume that? “I have no need to address vicious lies,” I answer tartly, tossing my hair back.
I knew my first day back on set would be awkward.
A soft, cool hand lands on my shoulder, pulling me to the side. “That’s enough. Go away and leave her alone,” Pamela scolds the throng of reporters.
“Ms. Scott, do you want to address the rumors of Mallory and your ex?”
“No, and you shouldn’t waste your time with that hogwash either.” She leans down and whispers in my ear, “Come on, let’s go inside.”
“Thank you.”
Tucking me close to her body, she strong-arms our way through the wild crowd. “Get them out of here,” she snaps at the security guard.
Inside the studio, she releases me. “Are you okay?”
“I was better until that.” I jerk my thumb over my shoulder. “Why would anyone even think…” I shake my head. “Whatever. Nothing should shock me anymore.”
“It was a big story while you were…gone.”
Chaser must have worked hard to intercept those stories while I was recovering. I knew reporters were camped out at our house, I’m so used to the lies tabloids tell, I’ve learned to ignore them. It never occurred to me to pick up a paper and see what their angle was on this story.
“Did you see the script?” I wave my copy at her. “What’s going on in that last scene?”
She bites her full bottom lip and looks away. “You’ll have to ask Sean.”
