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The name sounded familiar, but in my exhausted state, I struggled to place it. “Tonia… your publicist?”
Dean nodded. “She’s the best in the business, but honestly, sometimes it feels like I’m working with a tiger.”
I sat next to him and squeezed his hand, ready to give him a hug or whatever support he needed. He took a deep breath and steeled himself, licking his lips and blinking the tears away.
“I’m worried that since I’ve wasted so much time with her, I’ve missed my opportunity to get to know you.”
I was stunned — that was the last thing I’d expected him to say. He leaned forward like he was about to kiss me and then seemed to think better of it, and pulled back.
“Well, can’t you tell her to leave?” I asked, still confused. “It’s not like you’re in a real relationship. Surely, a fake breakup would be easier than a real one.”
“That’s not the point.” Dean leaned back and for the first time, I noticed how exhausted he was, too. His sexy smile lines were deeper than usual and his usual sparkle was missing. “Icalled Tonia, and she threatened to drop me as a client if I broke up with Brooke.”
“Damn.” I reached out and stroked his hair, tucking it behind his ear. It was an innocent gesture that was supposed to be comforting, but Dean moved closer to touch his forehead against mine.
“Seeing you with Isaac and Wyatt just makes it harder,” he confessed. “It reminds me that I had just as many opportunities to get close to you as they did — maybe more — and I blew it.”
I watched him until his eyes met mine again. I’d always thought they were a solid color, but with the early morning light hitting them at just the right angle, I could see flecks of brown, green, and violet within the blue.
“You didn’t blow it.”
I edged my chin forward until my lips met his, tasting the saltiness on their surface. He kissed me back, his tongue sliding around mine, reminding me of how good it had felt on my clit.
“Wait,” I said, hating myself for stopping him, but needing to get everything off my chest. Dean frowned as he stroked my shoulder.
“You should know…” the confession felt heavy, but I had to tell him. I wasn’t the kind of person who kept secrets from her partners, especially not big ones like this. “I’ve been sleeping with Isaac and Wyatt, too.”
I held my breath, waiting for Dean’s reaction.
“I know. Wyatt asked for my permission.” He squeezed my shoulder. “That’s okay. They’re attractive men, and things like this happen all the time on movie sets. I get it.”
All the tension left my body as I relaxed back into his kiss.
His hands found my waist, and I massaged his legs. I started on the outside, feeling the heat from his skin through his jeans, before working my way to his inner thighs, where Ialmostranthem up to the bulge where I knew his cock was, before dragging my fingers back to his knees.
Dean shuffled his butt forward on the chair, moving his legs apart, showing me where he wanted me to touch him.
I teased him for a few more minutes, circling closer to his dick, before I finally closed my hand over the bulge.
Dean moaned and our kisses intensified, our tongues swirling together as he pulled me closer and his erection throbbed through the fabric.
“Kyla,” he panted. I loved the way he said my name, as though it was his favorite word. “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to do this.”
Me too. My mouth was too busy to speak, but he must have known how I felt because he grabbed my ass and squeezed it, letting his fingertips slide between me and the chair to nudge my pussy through my jeans.
It throbbed, begging for more.
I stood up and unfastened the waistband, pulling the pants down over my hips. Dean watched with animalistic hunger in his eyes, staring at my cherry-covered g-string as the jeans cleared my crotch.
“Come here,” he growled, grabbing my hand before I had time to finish undressing. We stumbled to the bed together, my movements slowed by the denim that was still around my knees. Dean picked me up and threw me on the bed as though I were a doll — it didn’t hurt; the mattress and pillows absorbed the impact of my fall — but it surprised me enough to take my breath away.
He climbed on top of me, straddling both my legs, and dug his hand into the front of my underwear.
“Let’s see how wet you are.”
I already knew the answer —sopping— but I craved his fingers inside me, so I stayed quiet. Sure enough, my bodyopened itself to his touch, my eager pussy accepting two fingers without any resistance. I arched my back to let him in deeper, focusing on the sensations of him fingering me as he grabbed my breast with his free hand, squeezing it through my top.
“See? I should have been doing this all along,” he said, as he guided my hand down to the hot, hard skin of his erection. I hadn’t noticed him pulling down his own pants to reveal his cock and balls, but that didn’t matter. His shaft practically burned into my hand as I stroked it, as though he was literally igniting with passion.
