Page 51 of Cast to be Mine

He moved to the bar in the corner, pulling down two glasses. “Whiskey okay?”

“Perfect.”

I watched him pour, my heart hammering against my ribs. Now that we were here, alone in his house, the reality of what we were doing started to sink in. This could destroy everything. My career. His movie. The trust we’d built over the past weeks.

But when he turned back to me with those gorgeous eyes, I decided I didn’t care.

He handed me a glass. “There’s something I want to show you,” he said.

My eyes dropped to his crotch. “Okay. Should I finish my drink first?”

He chuckled, unbothered by my boldness. “This way.”

I followed him down a hallway. He stopped in front of a heavy wooden door and pushed it open, reaching inside to flip on the lights.

I stepped through and felt my jaw drop.

The room was a museum. Glass cases lined the walls, each one containing carefully preserved pieces of film history. Movie props, costumes, scripts, and photographs all displayed with the kind of reverence usually reserved for religious artifacts.

“Holy shit,” I breathed.

Micah smiled, watching my reaction. “My collection. Started when I was twelve and my mom gave me a prop from one of her films. It kind of spiraled from there.”

I moved deeper into the room, drawn to a case containing what looked like a vintage ray gun. “Is that⁠—”

“Space Raiders, 1957. Original prop. A ray gun. Took me three years to track it down.”

“This is incredible.”

I wandered through the room like a kid in a candy store.

“These are from your mother’s films,” I said, stopping in front of a section dedicated to her legendary career. A crimson gown from her Oscar-winning role. The shoes she’d worn in her breakthrough romantic comedy. A script with handwritten notes in the margins.

I stared at the diamond choker, remembering the scene where Tiana Blackwell had worn it. I’d seen the movie countless times.

“Can I touch it?”

Micah reached past me and opened the case. “Go ahead.”

I ran my fingers over the diamonds, feeling the cool weight of them against my skin. They caught the light, throwing tiny rainbows across the walls. Obviously, they weren’t real diamonds, but that didn’t matter. It was an iconic piece.

“Your family legacy is pretty incredible,” I said softly. “All of this. The films your mother made, the ones your father directed. It’s like you grew up surrounded by magic.”

“It had its downsides.” His voice was closer now. I could feel the warmth of him behind me, not quite touching but close enough that every nerve in my body was aware of his presence. “Everyone expects you to live up to something you never asked for.”

“I understand that more than you know.”

I needed his touch. I could feel him holding back. I leaned back, just a bit. Just giving him the okay. I sure as hell didn’t want to beg. He’d invited me in. That was enough.

He brushed the hair from the back of my neck. His lips brushed over the spot just below my ear. I tilted my head and gave him full access.

His breath was hot against my skin, and the second his lips pressed against that sensitive spot, a shiver raced down my spine. I arched back into him, my body already humming with need after weeks of tension. His hands slid around my waist, pulling me flush against his hard chest. I felt the rigid line of his cock pressing into my ass through our clothes.

“Micah,” I whispered, my voice husky. “Don’t stop.”

He didn’t. One hand slipped under my shirt, palm rough and warm as it cupped my breast, thumb circling my nipple until it peaked. I moaned, reaching back to tangle my fingers in his hair. He spun me around, his mouth crashing onto mine in a kiss that was all hunger. Neither of us had any restraint left. Our tongues tangled. I tasted the whiskey on his breath.

I shoved at his shirt, yanking it up over his head. He helped, tossing it aside, then peeled mine off too. My bra followed, and his mouth descended, sucking one nipple deep while his fingers pinched the other. Pleasure spiked straight to my core. I was already soaked, thighs pressing together.