Malibu Betrayals (5 page)

Sam shook out her hands and turned for her coffee, keeping her eyes on him. As much as she needed to get him out of her system, she didn’t want anyone finding out.

He moved with her, his eyes flashing with an intensity that scared her.

Her shaking hand knocked into the cup, making it tip precariously. Startled, she lunged to keep it from falling completely over. Finally, with the cup wrapped in her sure grasp, she took a sip and at the same time put a hand out to stop him from moving in—which was becoming a ridiculous habit. “Stop. Go. You have work to do. We can’t do this.”

Gage frowned, and she wanted to ease his furrowed brow, but she clenched her hand into a fist. Touching him would be a very big mistake.

Sam recognized a thundercloud when she saw one and smiled. “Here, Gage. We can’t do this here. I can’t think, and we don’t want anyone finding out. It’s too hard.”

He wiggled his brows at her with a decidedly wicked grin. “Hard is appropriate.”

“Oh my God, go.” Sam pushed him away, the heat of his arm making her want to pull him back to her instead so she could feel if the rest of him was just as hot. It would be. Damn him.

“Okay, okay, but later.” Resisting slightly, he glanced back at her and held her gaze.

She refused to look away, but if she didn’t get him to go soon, she wouldn’t be responsible for her actions. The smooth curve of his lips, slightly parted, made promises she prayed to God they’d deliver, and her own tingled in anticipation. She swallowed. “Later,” she agreed.

As he walked from her hiding spot, she shook her head and chuckled. Whew! That man could go from randy intensity to raunchy humor with the shutter speed of a high tech camera. She liked it. His playfulness, his intensity. He went after life, no sitting in the corner waiting for things to happen with that one. She admired him for it, but those same characteristics scared the hell out of her as well. They came with consequences. She was tired of paying for the actions of someone else, or for the association. The whole “guilty by” was tough to avoid in Hollywood.

But that kiss. Her toes still curled, and she grinned. That she could get all over. No one had to know, which would be better for Gage and her.

Pressing her hand to her lips, she grabbed her copy of the screenplay and went in search of Martin, a nervous excitement buzzing in her head. She was going home with Gage. Her brain had difficulty processing this new information, making hunting down Martin harder than she’d expected. The house they were using for filming was insidiously large, and she kept ending up where she’d started, which made her remember the damn kiss. But with Dani’s help, she eventually located Martin pouring over the dailies.

“You’re right,” Sam said, watching Dani disappear into another room.

“Always.”

Sam laughed and nudged his shoulder. “Yeah, right. No, about Dani, she is really indispensable. She works her tail off.”

“Yes, she does. Now, let’s talk.” He pointed to the script.

They had a good discussion about Sam’s concerns with a sequence in the script, though they had to circle around more than once.

Martin paused midsentence. “You okay?”

Instead of focusing on the words, she’d lost herself in the memory of warm lips and hot skin. “Of course,” she lightly snorted and waved her hand at him.

Her cell buzzed. Reluctantly, she grabbed her phone. Martin waited as she flicked through the screens. It was a text from Mrs. Evans.

He did everything for you. All he wanted was a baby. Why were you so selfish?

She froze.

“Everything okay?”

She shoved her phone back into her pocket and forced her breathing to remain calm, an effort that cost her. “Of course.” She smiled, though her stomach felt as if it were filled with rocks. She wished Ethan’s family would leave her alone. If it wasn’t his mother, it was his sister. The texts and phone calls had been a monthly occurrence since his death.

Blaming her, judging her.

I guess I know where he got it from
.

But she could handle it. She needed to count on one person these days—Samantha Anne Dekker. She refused to burden her family with drama—especially about Ethan, since they never liked him in the first place—and she rejected the idea of telling Martin. Baseless, empty harassment, nothing more.

She forced her brain to cooperate and focus back on the task at hand. Most of her original concerns about the script were finally put to rest once she understood the vision, and another catch she made had Martin jumping up and hugging her. “That’s my girl. You just saved us about a hundred thousand.”

Sam couldn’t help how proud she felt. Martin was like a second father to her—hell, to everyone in Malibu. It was thanks to him she’d become established in the business as fast as she had, and thanks to herself she’d lost so much ground. And now once again, he pulled her back in. Proving herself a good investment was necessary and filled her with deep pride. When it came to screenwriting, she was enough. Keeping the text to herself was best. There was no way she’d risk screwing up this opportunity with drama.

Pulling her shoulders back, she left Martin and headed back to her desk. If she could find it again, that was. She rounded a stack of storage bins and found Gage tucked off to the side in a director’s chair, pouring over the script. She took a deep breath and studied him closer, letting the warmth and excitement infuse her. She’d never seen him look so light, so…free. Something in his expression pulled at her. She wanted to feel that light and free someday.

Well, today was as good a day as any to work on that.
Come on, Sam, buck up.
It was time to work on that life she wanted so badly.

He lifted his gaze, and the beginnings of a smile curved his lips, his eyes a bit unfocused, but as she got closer they narrowed in on her with pinpoint precision. He slowly lowered the script to his lap and leaned back in his chair. “You look pleased with yourself.”

She glanced around and then placed her hands on his denim-covered knees, delighted when his muscles tightened under her grip. All morning she’d had trouble focusing, almost embarrassing herself during her conversation with Martin. It was only fair if Gage suffered from the same affliction, wasn’t it?

She slid her hands just a bit higher as she stood just between his knees. His heat radiated through his jeans, warming her palms, and her fingers twitched against his rock hard thighs.

He looked at her hands, then up at her face with a raised brow. “What are you up to?”

She bit her lip and then licked them, leaning close. She could see the individual crystal flecks in his eyes and each hair of stubble along his jaw.

His nostrils flared just before she brushed her lips along his in a feather light caress. Her heart took off, and every nerve ending in her body went on high alert.

Strong arms gripped her wrists, keeping her where she was. She grinned against his mouth and whispered, “Does this help you concentrate?”

He tried to deepen the kiss, but she pulled back just enough to keep it light, teasing, and received a low growl.

“Hell no,” he said.

His immediate response satisfied her newfound high, the feeling of being desired like a hit of some rare, exotic drug.

“Good.”

Chapter Five

Light and easy, light…and…easy.
Sam laughed at herself as she repeated the phrase to herself as the crew wrapped up for the night and headed home. She couldn’t tell if the nerves turning her stomach were completely excitement or a little fear as well. In a very short time she’d be alone with Gage, touching him, being touched by him. Her stomach tightened.

She hadn’t been intimate with anyone in years, and the last few times she had been weren’t worth remembering. In fact, they’d been humiliating and awful. When she’d first been with Ethan things had been good—he was a perfectionist after all—but as soon as they were married everything had changed. Once he achieved the status he’d wanted with a wife, she was merely a means to an end, a tool to be used. Never again.

Martin walked up and placed a hand on her shoulder. “You and Gage seem to be getting along well.”

Careful to keep a neutral expression on her face, Sam shrugged. “Yeah, we are. Thank you again for this, Martin.” She winced. “I never got to apologize for my reaction at The Chocolate Box.”

Martin studied her, a spark of something in his eye. “My pleasure, and no apology necessary. I should have warned you, but I was afraid you wouldn’t show.” He gently shook her shoulder.

“You’re probably right.” She laughed. Sometimes she was her own worst enemy.

“Heading out?”

“I am. Just need to grab a few things first. I want to write tonight, work out some of the kinks from not working for a while. Have anything I might like?”

His hand disappeared into his bag and appeared with a script. “Check this out. Take as long as you like.”

That was what she loved so much about him; he trusted her and believed in her enough to hand over one of his scripts.

She held the pages to her chest. “Thank you.”

With a wave, he disappeared through the door.

Gage said goodbye to a few fellow actors and approached Sam in long, easy strides, setting off sparks of excitement up her spine. What would it be like with him? More of the heat they’d already shared for sure, and the fact left her breathless and overwhelmed. She tensed as he closed the distance, her fingers rising a bit. To pull him in or keep him at arm’s length, she wasn’t sure, and giggled at her silliness.

“Ms. Dekker.” He spoke in a formal tone as if he was all about business—and not the horizontal kind.

“Yes, Mr. Cutler?”

With only a couple people trailing behind, he lowered his voice to barely a whisper. “I like how that sounds.”

Heat flushed her neck and face.
Pull yourself together, Dekker
. She glanced over his shoulder as the last crew member slipped through the door.

“Ready? You can follow me in your car.”

Her eyes opened wide. His words sounded so casual but were laced with so much more. She wanted him more than she’d wanted anything or anyone in a long time. Pure, unadulterated, physical, base-need wanting. Hell yeah, she was ready to go. “Let’s go then.”

Gage stepped toward her, a possessive look in his eye. “Really?”

She almost laughed at the hopeful disbelief in his tone, but nodded instead. If her goal was to keep this light and casual, to get him out of her system, the best thing to do was to treat it that way. If they waited for the perfect time, it put too much importance on the sex.

“This is going to be the longest damn ride of my life.”

Sam grinned as she watched Gage take off to his car. A few minutes later, she pulled out of the driveway. She changed her mind no less than fifty times on the way, questioning how she of all people was going home with Gage Cutler.

Her heart hammering in her chest, she followed him through three levels of the tightest security she’d ever seen. She could have used this set-up when she’d been married to Ethan.

Finally, they pulled into his oversized garage and the door lowered, closing them into an oasis of privacy.

He was at her door, opening it and grabbing her hand before she had turned her engine off. Laughing, she put a hand to her stomach and followed him through the garage. He fumbled with his keys, and then swore, pushing Sam against the door and kissing her.

She loved his taste and the feel of his hard body against hers. Sam played with the hem of his shirt. Pulling in a breath, she slid her fingertips under the hem, refusing to be a passive bystander. He sucked in his stomach at her touch. “Wait, wait, let me get this.”

Sam’s stomach twisted in knots. She stilled, watching him slip the key into the lock. His hand shook, and he wiped it on his jeans with a chuckle.

What if she sucked? She almost laughed but couldn’t get anything past the lump in her throat. Her best defense had always been “fake it till you make it,” and she needed to tap into that right now.

He wrapped his arm around her waist and hauled her up against him. She squealed against his mouth, and they pushed through the door, practically falling through the entrance.

Once inside, he locked the door, tossed his keys to his foyer table, and turned toward her. She sobered a bit, slowly backing away down the hall. He followed and her heart took up a heavy rhythm. The gleam in his gaze stopped her, held her immobile. She stood in the middle of his living room. She wanted him to catch her, to take her. Make her forget her fears, her worries—release the hold he seemed to have on her.

Light and easy and fun.

In two strides, Gage had her in his arms. Lifting her, he encouraged her legs to wrap around his waist. He dragged his lips against hers, catching her lower lip between his teeth with subtle pressure, then sliding his tongue in to taste her, his hands in her hair, holding her head hostage. The heat of his torso radiated through her slacks and intensified the fever building between her legs.

He walked through the door into his bedroom. Without letting her go, he flicked on his fireplace and, stepping over to the sliding glass doors, pushed a button that shut the enclosed window blinds with an almost imperceptible whisk. Then with a growl, he stalked back to the bed and followed her body down with his.

“You have no idea how I’ve wanted you.” He groaned next to her ear, rough, desperate, his breath sending shivers down her spine. Or maybe it was his words. She didn’t know. Couldn’t think. Didn’t care.

His hands explored everywhere. Gripping and dragging along every contour with focused intensity as if afraid at any moment she’d make him stop—as if. He caressed along her jaw, then pressed her breasts together, burying his face in her soft mounds, then down her body to her waist. He grabbed the hem of her shirt, hesitating a moment, holding her gaze, and then pushed it up, baring her stomach. This was it. She’d be bare before him, nothing shielding her, nothing to hide behind. A moment of complete terror swept through her and she tensed, her body ready to bolt even if her head couldn’t keep up.

“Easy,” he whispered.

Easy…that’s right. Light and easy. This is for you, Sam. The thought steadied her, but once they did this, there was no going back; this moment, now, was the point of no return.

Looking into the desperate heat of his eyes, she saw all of her pent-up desire and need mirrored there. She wasn’t in this alone. It was time to start trusting herself.

Decision made, she lifted to help get her top up and over her head.

He released a gust of breath and a low groan that told her more about his desires than any words would have. Without pause, her bra followed; he paused and stared at her. “Goddamn, you’re beautiful.”

The wet heat of his mouth around one nipple, then the other shocked her right out of herself and into the present as she arched up, pressing closer.

Wanting to feel him, taste him, she yanked his shirt over his head, then pulled him down to feel the hard planes of his chest against her breasts. “Oh. My. God.”

“We haven’t even started, and there is no way I’m rushing something I’ve waited so long for.” He slid down the bed, taking her slacks and panties from her waist. He returned, towering over her, his eyes glinting from the firelight—they looked almost clear the way they glowed. She stretched her arms over her head, streamlining her tall form to show its best angle, enticing him to hurry.

His gaze intensified as he unbuckled his belt, the muscles clenching in his jaw.

How many beautiful bodies had shared this bed? And how long ago—a week, yesterday? Not now, not tonight. They didn’t matter. She focused once more on the intensity of his gaze. Besides, a look like that promised no other woman was in his head or bed but her.

He unbuckled his belt before pushing his pants and boxer briefs to the ground, never looking away. The length of him jutting out, long and hard and thick. Her mouth watered.

She sat up and reached for him, but he caught her hands, pushed them above her head, and pressed her back onto the bed. She would have lain on a bed of nails. Wanting nothing more but to touch him, taste him, feel him inside of her—finally. She might not have ever said the words aloud, but she’d wanted to since the night they’d met.

His long, heavy form covered her with a delicious weight. His clever hands finding her everywhere, the mound of her breasts, the dip of her collarbone, the long length from under her shoulder to her hip. A firestorm of want and need rushed through her. She spread her legs and wrapped them around him, tightening her grip and rubbing against his length.

“Now.” She all but whimpered and didn’t care. She couldn’t wait. She’d already waited too long.

“No.”

He took her mouth again and then trailed his tongue down her neck and over one breast to her nipple. Her body screamed for speed. But he wouldn’t be hurried, and his hands massaged with a gentle, almost feather-light touch. She wanted him to grab, to demand. She pushed against his hands to increase the pressure—to relieve the intensity. She’d lose her mind.

He wouldn’t let her.

His tongue continued down the center dip of her abdomen, the firelight dancing with the shadows on his shoulders. Each muscle bunched under the effort to hold himself up. She yanked him closer.

It was like trying to move granite. Strong arms slid under her knees and opened them wide. Then his hot, wet mouth found her and licked at her center, his tongue circling around and around. Her world went black, pressure pushing her higher, her lungs struggled to pull in air, and then she exploded in a bright light, her hips arcing, pushing against his mouth as wave after wave of pleasure sliced through her. She fisted the bed covers, trying to fight against the building pressure.

She needed him with her.

He laved at her once, twice, lingering wherever she responded most intensely. “Almost. God, you taste so good.”

His words turned her on and the pressure continued, a tight fist, low in her core that tried to flow hot and fast. Each lap of his tongue carried her higher again.

How could this be possible? Light and easy. Light and easy. Desperate to touch him, to take him with her, she pulled at him to slide up her body and reached down around her thighs to find him, cupping his balls with a gentle pressure.

He reared up, and holding her head between his hands, demanded she meet his gaze. “Look at me.” His voice was ragged.

She resisted. “Now, Gage.”

“Look at me.” His voice dragged along her nerves with its desperation. Did this mean something to him? Could it? No. He was Gage Cutler, movie star. He—

“Sam.”

She couldn’t hold back any longer. Her eyes locked onto his, and every fiber of her being became more sensitive than before.

He released her to make quick work of a condom, never breaking eye contact. Sliding one hand back under her head and the other at her waist, he hesitated one second more and then plunged into her, holding her gaze as she went.

She closed her eyes against the intensity, her core squeezing him, pulse after pulse.

“Open your eyes. I want you to see
me
.” His command was hoarse.

It took great effort to lift her lids. But when they locked eyes, her light and easy mantra abandoned her to the reality of his heavy and hard body, and he drove forward again. This time when she cried out, he followed only seconds behind, eyes locked with hers.

He thrust into her, increasing tempo, and she pulled him in harder, deeper, her heels pressing against his ass. Her center twisted into white-hot pleasure, until with one endless stroke, she flew over the edge, his name on her lips. “Gage.” Her body convulsed around him again and again.

She’d never experienced anything like it before.

He followed right along with her, a long groan from deep in his throat.

Her body pulsed from her center to the ends of her fingers and toes as he continued to hold her gaze. Ripple after endless ripple.

She thought she might have died. But one thing she knew.

Green. His eyes were definitely green.