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Hot Docs On Call: Hollywood Heartthrobs
Hot Docs On Call: Hollywood Heartthrobs

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Hot Docs On Call: Hollywood Heartthrobs

Язык: Английский
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He grinned. ‘Like I said, my career’s fine, thanks. Going right according to plan. No need to analyse that any further.’

‘So what do you do when you’re not working?’

‘Like that happens.’

‘You must do something. You can’t work all the time.’ At his shrug she realised he really, truly, probably did. ‘You don’t have hobbies?’

‘I work out. Hike. Surf, if I get a chance. Haven’t done that for a while. I’ve been building my practice—these things don’t just happen. I—well, I work, Lola. Although sometimes to the detriment of other things—I understand that. You have to make sacrifices.’ It was almost as if he’d just realised that he didn’t do anything else—as if the realisation was finally seeping into his brain, and what exactly that meant for his life. Then he smiled. ‘Oh, and I juggle, but that’s more for relaxation. Well, I used to—it’s been a while. Years, actually. Probably a decade, if I’m honest. So, okay, I admit I’m a sad case of a workaholic—I do all the things I tell my juniors not to do. But I have to work, no one’s going to carry me the rest of my life. Where I end up is up to me. No one else.’

And she wondered what he meant by that—but sensed he was reluctant to talk about it, so she tried to keep things light. ‘So you juggle, like with the oranges earlier? That’s a strange thing to do.’

His eyebrows rose. ‘Unusual, yes. Strange—not so. It’s very therapeutic, especially if your brain’s stuck in one thing and you want to move on. I was part of a study when I was at med school. We were testing whether learning a new skill could promote white and grey matter growth in the brain. It does, by the way. It also helps you focus and relax, helps posture and co-ordination...and usually makes people smile.’

‘I might have known it would have some connection to work.’

‘Of course. Plus, it’s a great babe magnet.’

She laughed. ‘Why? How?’

‘That’s my secret.’

‘Tell me?’

‘No.’

‘Okay, then, teach me?’

‘Sure. Why not?’ Standing, he took hold of her arm and they went inside to the kitchen. He picked up two oranges from the fruit bowl, one in each hand, and threw them up in the air. She was mesmerised by the fluidity of his movements, the flex of his hands, the primed, yet relaxed stance. His smile. She was mesmerised by him.

He caught the oranges in one hand, held one out to her. ‘Start like this. Just up and down. That’s right. Now, try two. Throw from one hand to the other in an arc shape. Copy me.’

She did as she was told and copied him as he threw first one orange, then added in another so they crossed in mid throw. ‘Easy!’

‘Okay... Now try using your non-dominant hand. That’s the tricky bit.’

‘Oops.’ One orange landed on the floor in a splat.

He laughed. ‘Not quite ready for flames yet...’

‘You juggle with fire?’

‘I have. I can. Try it like this.’ He stood behind her and captured her between his arms, his hands cupping hers as they threw the oranges into the air. She leaned against him and he held her weight, his breath coming easily against her neck. She could feel the hard wall of his chest against her back, could smell his scent, and she suddenly felt more alive and more clear-headed than she had all day.

Arousal snaked up her spine, through her veins. Her heart began to beat faster. She wanted to turn around and press herself against him, to feel him naked against her. Her hands shook as she held the oranges. His words were in her ear, on her neck, in her hair. ‘Lola...your turn now, on your own. I’ll stay here ready to catch them if you drop them.’

‘I think I’m getting the hang...’ She didn’t finish. Couldn’t finish because his hands were in no place to catch any falling citrus fruit. They had circled her waist and he was turning her round.

As she completed the turn she stared straight into those black pupils glittering with need. The air stilled around them, heavy with intent, like his eyes. ‘God, Lola...’

‘Yes?’ But she didn’t hear his answer, if indeed he answered at all, because his mouth was on hers, hard and hungry. This wasn’t the kind of kiss they’d shared before. This wasn’t gentle or coaxing; this was pure, raw need. And she kissed him back just as hard, the oranges spinning across the floor as she dropped them to spike her fingers into his hair, to pull him closer, and ever closer.

* * *

There was only so much a guy could resist.

He’d thought earlier he was a damned saint for walking away from her—twice. But now he was going to hell and he outright didn’t care.

Because having Lola Bennett was the only thing he’d had on his mind all damned day. All damned week, if he was honest, and if he didn’t act on this he was going to implode. A mist clouded his brain as he pulled her harder to him. All he could see was Lola, all he could breathe, smell, taste was her. Nothing else mattered. Just this. And her. She mattered.

He felt her curves beneath his hands, spoke against her lips. ‘Forget what I said earlier. I was an idiot. I want you, Lola. I want you, right here.’

‘Finally. You know, I was starting to get a complex. One minute you wanted me, the next...not so much.’

‘I always wanted you. I was trying to protect you.’

He felt her body stiffen. She took a step back. ‘Whoa, mister, I don’t need protecting. I’m very grateful for everything you’ve done for me today, but I can manage my life just fine on my own.’

‘Hmm—I know, but you can’t kiss on your own.’ He licked behind her ear, felt her soften a little. ‘Can’t do this on your own. Right?’

‘Good point.’ She giggled—a throaty, dirty sound that stoked even more fury through his veins. Her hands were on his T-shirt, dragging it up over his head. ‘Your bedroom? Or mine?’

‘Not sure we’ll make it that far. Next time maybe. Beds are overrated.’ Right now the kitchen table looked enticing. So did the floor. He was tearing at her clothes, nipping along her throat, en route to tasting those exquisite breasts again. Luckily she still had the bikini on underneath her T-shirt and shorts—two quick tugs and she’d be naked.

Her hand stilled on his. ‘Are you sure about this, Jake. I mean, really sure?’

‘Do you have to ask?’

‘Ya think? With your track record? I’m not going to start something if you’re just going to stop and leave me frustrated. I’m over that.’

‘Come with me. Now.’ There weren’t words enough to tell her how sure he was. He slipped his hands under her legs and picked her up, carried her to the closest soft horizontal surface he could find. One of the couches in the lounge. The flickering torchlight filtered through the blinds, illuminating her full beauty. God, she was more beautiful than a hundred Hollywood actresses. More real. Just more. So much more.

Careful of her leg, he straddled her and slammed his mouth over hers, drank her in, fed on her kisses like a starving man. Her skin was soft, her kisses hot, her moans like licks of heat piercing him. There was nothing he could do to stop this. Nothing he wanted to do more.

She raked her hands across his chest, ran her fingers over his belly towards his belt. He grabbed her hand. ‘Not so fast. I want to taste you first...’

She started to undo the buckle. ‘But—’

His grip tightened. ‘Look here, Miss Independent...relax. Let me do something for you.’

‘You’ve done that all day, looked after me. Now it’s your turn. I want to show you my gratitude.’

‘Lola,’ he growled in her ear. ‘I get that you want to be your own woman—but this? This is about the two of us. I want to make you feel so damned good. You first...’

She pouted and pretended to think about that option for all of a nanosecond. Then she laughed. ‘Oh, okay...if you insist.’

‘I do.’ His mouth was on her throat, making a soft trail to her breasts. He flicked off her bikini and sucked a nipple into his mouth. Underneath him she bucked against his hardness, a soft purr coming from her throat. Her hands fisted his hair, yanking with every lick on her nipple. ‘You taste so good.’

Then things got serious as he made a slow trail down her belly, slipped off her shorts and bikini bottom. ‘You have no idea how you make me feel, Lola.’

‘Oh, I can guess. I feel it too.’ Her palm covered him over his pants and he gasped, desperate for her to free him from the restrictive fabric. But he’d have to wait.

She gave him a slow sexy smile that glittered in her eyes, the connection deepening, the connection very real. Tangible. A fist round his heart. Damn, but he’d never felt like this about a woman before—as if there’d been something he hadn’t known he’d been looking for, and now he’d found it. Like finding the last piece in a jigsaw puzzle. Complete.

And it should have scared him. Hell, it did, more than anything. He’d been fine before he’d met her—he’d already felt complete, goddammit. He didn’t need a woman to make him more whole...but it also spurred him on.

He nudged her thighs apart and dipped his head, tasting the hot slickness of her as she rocked against him, her moan intensifying, urging him on. She was so wet as he stroked his tongue across that tight nub of flesh, as he gripped her backside and trapped her in place. He could sense her orgasm mounting with the tightened grasp, the sob of delight. Each moan of hers elicited a groan from him. God, he needed to be inside her.

When she shuddered he thought he might explode. When she called out his name he thought he’d die.

But she was pulling him up, reaching for his zip, pushing down his shorts, finally freeing him from all constraints. He had to be inside her. To feel her around him, to feel her climax against him. ‘Condom...’

‘Yes. Yes. Yes.’

He reached down to his shorts, pulled out the packet, sheathed in record time. And then she was taking control, wrapping her hand around his thickness, making him gasp.

He looked down the length of her, saw the redness of her leg... ‘Wait...I don’t want to hurt you.’

She gave him a smile that almost broke his heart in two. ‘It’s okay. You won’t hurt me. I promise. Jake...I want you so much. I want you.’

He reached and bent her leg slowly so there’d be no danger of hurting her. Then she was pulling him into her, deep into her core, the silky softness wrapping around him, her muscles gripping him in a sweet tightness. His mouth covered hers in a desperate kiss, his gaze never leaving hers—the truth spinning between them, faster, mesmerising, intoxicating. If there was a heaven, this was it.

She rocked with his rhythm, urging him harder, faster, calling his name until he could take no more. Pleasure, need and hunger slammed into him, and he groaned out her name, caught the first shudders of her release. Felt the thin ethereal threads that connected them tighten. Then and only then did he finally let go.

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