Over Exposed (21 page)

Just a few more feet.

He stepped behind the piece of modern art that looked like nothing more than a long, wavy strip of highly polished steel. During the day, it reflected the colors of the garden. At night, it emitted a low-level glow. Just enough for him to see her but not enough for anyone who might wander into the atrium to see them. Not that he expected anyone to come in here this late. And Sebastian was still in the music room.

Anticipation honed his desire to a fine edge and, when he finally had her where he wanted her, he dropped all restraints and let lust take him.

Except, it didn't feel like lust. It felt like craving and need and some other deeper emotion that had him slowing their kisses, trying to ease the frantic race.

But Bree didn't want slow. And apparently, she wasn't going to balk at their surroundings.

As soon as he set her on her feet, her hands went to his waistband. She worked the button free then released the zipper, easing the pressure on his cock but making him groan when she wrapped her fingers around his shaft through his boxers.

As she explored him through the barrier of cotton, she tilted her face up to his, staring at him through her lashes.

Taking the hint, he caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger and held her steady for his descending mouth. He couldn't seem to get enough of her taste. It made him feel slightly wasted.

He liked it. A lot.

Her lips moved under his as she continued to stroke his cock. Sliding his tongue into her mouth, he licked at hers, wanting to devour her.

She let him but she didn't surrender. No, she came at him from another angle. She slowly stripped his defenses as she worked his jeans and boxers down his hips until she'd exposed his cock. Then she wrapped her warm fingers around him and squeezed.

It was a testament to his will that he didn't come right then but, Christ, he wanted to. His balls tightened in warning but he clamped one hand around the base and squeezed until he'd staved it off.

Bree didn't let up on him. She continued to stroke him with short, hard tugs and longer, more languid pulls and twists.

As his knees started to go weak, he turned until he had his back braced against the wall. Then he started his own campaign.

He plucked open the buttons on her shirt until it gaped in a vee, baring her bra. The lace and satin matched the color of her skin, and the design lifted her breasts into mounds that quivered with every breath.

He cupped the underside of her breasts, lifting the mounds higher, then bent to rub his cheeks against them.

Bree sucked in an audible breath as his whiskers abraded her delicate skin. His thumbs moved to rub her nipples, which had tightened into hard points.

Her hands stilled as he pressed kisses to her flesh, stringing them from one breast to the other before he made his way to a nipple poking through the lace. He licked at it, wetting the fabric. Then he bit it, grinning when he heard her moan and felt her hands tighten around his cock again.

“Keep stroking me, baby. I like your hands on my cock.”

She shuddered but didn't obey right away. So he moved to the other nipple and bit her again.

“Greg.”

Sucking her nipple into his mouth, he laved the tip with his tongue before releasing her.

“Come on, Bree. Make me even harder.”

Her fingers tightened convulsively around his erection and he bit back a groan at the slight hint of pain laced through the pleasure.

“That's right. Tighter.”

Goddamn, she knew exactly what he wanted, and she gave it to him.

She slid one hand between his legs, cupping his balls and rolling them in her hand, while her other stroked his cock from root to tip.

His head fell back against the wall, hard enough to send a shaft of pain through his temples. It only managed to make him more aware of her.

His hands fell to her hips as she worked him, his fingers tugging up her skirt in tiny increments. Each inch of thigh he bared made his heart pound a little harder until he could hear his pulse beat in his ears.

“I'm going to fuck you right here unless you say no.”

He felt he owed it to her to give her the choice but he really hoped she didn't balk. He didn't want to wait. And he wanted her to get a little wicked with him.

Her head cocked to the side and her mouth twitched into a smile.

“Well, you better do it soon because I'm so horny, I may take care of myself.”

His hands clenched around her skirt as fierce victory arrowed through him. “No need, babe.”

With her skirt hooked on her hips, he used his hands to shove down her underwear. With a twist of her hips, Bree made them fall to her ankles then stepped out of them.

“Hands on my shoulders. Now.”

He didn't wait for her to comply. He sealed her mouth with his and reached for her hips. She gave him one last squeeze before she released him and put her hands on his shoulders.

When he leaned back, she looked up at him and smiled. “You need to hurry.”

“Be careful what you wish for.”

“Why should I? I'll never get anything good if I don't wish for—”

She sucked in a gasp as he lifted her against him, her legs automatically wrapping around his waist.

Her mound brushed against his cock and she tilted her hips into him.

Biting back a groan, he bent to whisper in her ear. “Condom? I've got one in—”

“Just do me, Greg. I'm on the Pill. I trust you.”

And he trusted her. Grabbing the rope of her braid, he pulled her head back so he could kiss her and shifted just enough to—

Yes.

He slid inside her with one thrust, letting her slide down as far as she could, enclosing him in wet, hot heaven.

He groaned. “God, yes. I could stay inside you all night and not care if I ever got any sleep.”

With a slow roll of his hips he sank even deeper, loving the way her pussy clenched around him and her legs clasped around his hips.

Her arms tightened around his shoulders, her hands splayed across his back, fingers digging into his skin through his shirt.

“Move, Greg. Please. I need—”

She didn't need to tell him twice. Settling her weight more fully in his hands, he began to move her up and down his cock, hitting sensitive spots on their bodies he'd never known existed.

At this rate, he wasn't going to last more than a few minutes. Every breath she released brushed against his neck, stroking him deep inside.

Increasing the pace, he braced his back more steadily against the wall and fucked her like he wanted.

Clinging to him, she let him. Have her. Control her.

Fuck, he liked that. Liked that she gave herself over to him.

His cock swelled, throbbed, his climax building in his balls. Listening to her breathing, he tried to tell if she was close.

The low moans she made brought his inner caveman a little closer to the surface. Making sure he had a good grip on her with one arm, he used his other hand to grab her braid and tug her head back.

“Look here, babe. Open your eyes.”

It took a second but, on his next thrust, she did what he'd asked. She opened her eyes.

So dark. So sexy.

“Ah hell, honey, next time I'm setting up a camera by the bed.”

“Only if you're going to be in the shots, too.”

His cock pulsed a warning. He was close, too damn close.

Shifting her just a bit, he changed the angle of penetration . . . and watched her suck in a breath as her eyes fluttered closed.

Yes.

“Oh, my God. Greg, do that again.”

“Gladly. I want to watch you come.”

Her head fell back as she tilted her hips forward. Now she worked with him, moved with him as they chased the ultimate pleasure.

Her gasping breaths sounded insanely loud in the quiet atrium but he didn't give a shit if anyone heard them now. All he cared about was making her come.

He thrust harder, higher, shifted her closer.

“Come on, sweetheart. Damn, you're so fucking tight. I fucking love it.”

She moaned, biting her lips as she clenched around him, her thighs tightening on his hips.

Then she came with a muffled cry, shoving her face into the crook of his neck and biting him. Hard.

Which made him come in an explosive rush that nearly buckled his knees.

They stood there for at least a minute as they caught their breath.

And Greg tried to find his center of gravity. For a few minutes there, he thought he'd lost it.

Finally she shifted, straightening her legs until he took the hint and let her stand.

Grabbing her underwear off the floor, she pulled them on as he tucked his cock back into his jeans and zipped up.

After she'd pulled her skirt down and fiddled with it, she finally looked up at him again.

“Nice to see you, too,” she said.

The glint in her eye and the smile on her face made him laugh.

“How about we see a little more of each other? Come back to my room. Stay the night. Rehearsals start tomorrow so my free time is about to become nonexistent. But that doesn't mean I don't want to see you. It just means we have to be a little flexible.”

Her eyes rounded in mock surprise. “And I wasn't flexible enough for you for the last fifteen minutes?”

He reached over to stroke a finger down her cheek. “Oh, honey, let me show you just how much more flexible you can be.”

She continued to grin up at him and he bent to steal another kiss.

“Okay.” She finally responded. “You go out first. I'll follow in a few minutes.”

His gaze narrowed. “So we're gonna continue to be stealthy about this?”

Her teeth fastened onto her bottom lip for a second and her expression got serious. “I'd prefer to, if you don't mind. I'm just not sure I'm ready to tell the world we're . . .”

“Screwing around?”

Her eyebrows raised, probably because of the edge in this tone. “Are you telling me there's more to this than just screwing around?”

Hell, yes.
“Yeah, that's what I'm telling you. I want to spend as much time with you as I can. Right now, the only time I have is at night. If that means we spend most of our time together in bed, I'm okay with that. The question is, are you?”

She paused. “Yes. I am. But I'd still like to keep our . . . involvement quiet, at least for now.”

“I can agree to that.”

A slight smile curved her lips. “You're used to getting your way all the time, aren't you?”

It was his turn to give her wide eyes. “Why would anyone want to deny me anything?”

With a laugh, she put a hand on his back and gave him a little push toward the door. “I don't have any idea. I'll see you in a few minutes. I want to go to my room and change first.”

He bent and put his mouth right at her ear. “If you're not at my door in ten minutes, I'm gonna come looking, babe. And I'm not gonna be subtle.”

Shaking her head, she gave him a harder shove this time though he didn't move. “Don't push your luck, big guy. I said I'll be there.”

“And I'm holding you to it. Ten minutes.” He leaned over and bit her earlobe. “And then I'm gonna make you wonder why you just don't give in and move into my suite.”

Nine

“No, I'm sorry, that's just not going to happen. If you call this number again, I will call the police.”

Sabrina couldn't help but overhear the one-sided conversation Saturday night.

Even though Daisy Devlin had moved to an out-of-the-way alcove away from the lobby and was keeping her voice to a whisper, the alcove was just behind the registration desk, so Sabrina had a front-row seat to the drama.

And apparently it was gearing up to be a knock-down, drag-out fight.

Though she tried to keep a respectful distance, the hotel was close to capacity and, even though it was close to ten at night, clusters of people kept coming through the lobby. Most were on their way to and from the atrium, where the Goldens were hosting a holiday cocktail party for local small-business owners.

Sabrina and Teresa had been oohing and ahhing over the dresses, ranking the men on a one-to-ten hotness scale, and having a decent night.

Which was more than Sabrina could say for Daisy.

“I don't care what you write, you son of a bitch. But if you so much as mention me or my husband by name, you can bet your
ass
it'll be slapped with a libel lawsuit the next day. Trust me. You'll be strung out to dry so fast, the only writing gig you'll ever get will be reporting on the opening of a grocery store in Bumfuck, Iowa.”

Ouch.
Sabrina almost felt sorry for the person on the other end of that call. Then again, he probably deserved whatever Daisy was dishing out. According to Greg, the press had heard about Neal's meltdown at a local restaurant a couple of weeks ago and had been hounding the couple ever since.

In the few minutes over the past few weeks that they'd managed to spend alone—when they weren't having sex, of course—Greg had given her a crash course in film industry politics and publicity. Most of it made her head spin. The deliberate leaks of careful information to the press by the publicity department. The “anonymous” calls to trusted photographers about “secret” appearances by the actors.

Everything he'd said made her more convinced than ever that she'd made the right choice to ask Greg to keep their relationship secret. No way did she want to be subjected to the hell Daisy Devlin was apparently going through.

Some people said she brought it on herself by choosing to be an actress and pursuing fame. Casey and Danica totally believed that once you made the choice to become a public figure, your life became fair game for every sleazeball looking to make a buck off someone else's misery.

Sabrina believed everyone deserved a private life. But if you didn't work hard to keep it private, then you were just asking for trouble.

Still, she couldn't help but feel sorry for Daisy. It wasn't her fault her husband had problems and was dragging her down with him. Sure, Daisy could always leave him. But Sabrina actually respected the woman more for sticking by her man.

“I have no comment except to say Greg, Neal, and I have known each other for years. We have a working relationship and a personal relationship.” A pause. “I care about Greg a great deal. He's been a part of my life for a decade. My husband and I are thrilled to be working with him again.”

Damn.
Sabrina really didn't want to hear this. She should walk away before she heard something she really didn't want to know.

“I have no comment about any relationship with Amanda Patton. And that's the last thing I'm going to say. I have no comment on any other questions you might have.”

Silence from the alcove, then an audible sigh.

Though she hadn't been eavesdropping on purpose, Sabrina felt guilty as Daisy emerged from the alcove. Hair shoved in a baseball cap and wearing no makeup, she had her head down as she dug through the huge purse hanging from one slim shoulder.

When Daisy sniffled, Sabrina reached for the box of tissues beneath the desk and set it on the top.

“Can I help you with anything?”

Daisy's head popped up and Sabrina saw her red-rimmed eyes and the fierce set of her mouth. And knew she should've kept her mouth shut.

“No, you can't,” Daisy snapped. “And next time, I'd appreciate if you wouldn't blatantly eavesdrop on a private conversation. That'll get you fired.”

Sabrina felt her entire body flash hot then cold as Daisy stormed away to the elevators, but not before sending Sabrina a death glare.

“Well, damn. That woman always seems so sweet. Guess I really shouldn't be surprised to find out she's a royal bitch.” Teresa bumped shoulders with Sabrina, who felt rooted to the floor. “Hey, don't worry about her, hon. She's obviously upset, and not at you.”

“I wasn't eavesdropping.”

Teresa waved off her statement. “I know that. Hell, she could have gone in the bathroom if she wanted privacy. Or at least waited until she was in her room to deal with whatever she was dealing with. Seriously, you didn't do anything wrong.”

But the incident wouldn't leave her alone.

Had she deliberately been listening to Daisy's conversation? The question bugged her for the rest of her shift.

She knew she wouldn't be seeing Greg tonight. He had a night shoot and she wouldn't see him until tomorrow. Maybe. If he had time.

She hadn't seen him since Wednesday and when she thought about that night, she couldn't breathe. Not because she was embarrassed but because she burned with arousal.

Anyone could have walked into the atrium that night, could have caught them. And that only made the thrill that much better.

What the hell was happening to her?

Well, she knew the answer to that question, didn't she?

Greg Hicks, that's what. He made her crave things she'd never considered doing and . . .

He was shooting scenes with Amanda all night.

She knew that not because he'd told her but because she'd seen it on
Entertainment Tonight
. The TV had been on in the employee lounge when she'd taken her dinner break. It would've all been background noise if she hadn't heard Greg's name. And the veiled innuendo in the announcer's voice when he mentioned Greg and Amanda in the same sentence made her stomach roll.

The scene with Daisy brought back that feeling that stayed with her until midnight when she finally left the desk. The reception in the atrium had broken up minutes ago, the last guests shaking hands with Jared, Annabelle, Tyler, and Kate.

Her friends looked gorgeous in their fancy dresses, both of them smiling, shaking hands, and looking the parts of wealthy socialites with nothing to worry about but their manicures—

Okay, wow. Just . . . wow.

That had been incredibly bitchy and unspeakably mean-spirited. And about her best friends.

Jesus, she needed to get a grip.

“So you look like you need a drink, and since I
really
need a drink and I don't want to drink alone, you're coming with me.”

Sabrina's smile was already forming as she turned from the elevator to face Sebastian.

“Hi there. Haven't seen you for a while. Have you been working?”

He nodded. “Nonstop. Or at least it feels like it. Thought I'd take the night off, maybe hit the bar for a drink.”

“The hotel bar?”

A frown crossed his expression before it cleared. “Nah. Let's take this show on the road. Do you have someplace in mind?”

She smiled. “Actually, yeah, I do. Let me go up and change and I'll meet you back here in ten minutes.”

The bell dinged for the elevator as Sebastian tapped his watch-free wrist.

“I'll give you fifteen. There's no way you can be back in ten minutes. It'll take you that long to figure out what to wear.”

Laughing, she stepped into the elevator. “If I'm back in ten, you're buying the first round.”

“If you're back in ten, I'll play you my new music. I'm buying tonight anyway.”

Eight minutes later, she found Sebastian standing by the front door, talking to Jimmy, one of the overnight security guards. A year older than her, Jimmy and his older brother, Rob, switched off nights on the door.

Nice guys. Handsome guys, too, with their dark Italian hair and eyes. But they weren't Greg.

“Dude, Metallica's still got it but Korn has lost their credibility. All that electronic crap. Makes me wanna slit my wrists. Now, Volbeat . . . love 'em.” Jimmy's head turned and he smiled. “Hey, Sabrina, you heading out with his guy? Make sure he takes you somewhere decent.”

“I thought we'd go to South Street and hit JC Dobbs.”

Sebastian smiled. “Wow, I haven't been there in years. Baseline Sins played one of our first gigs there. When do you get off, Jimmy? Wanna join us?”

“Seriously? I'd love to.” Jimmy looked between her and Sebastian. “Unless . . . I'd be a third wheel.”

Sebastian shook his head before she could disabuse Jimmy of the notion. “Nah, man. It's not like that. We're just going out for a drink.”

Jimmy grinned at both of them. “Then, hell yeah. I'll be there in half an hour.”

An hour later, Sabrina was halfway into her second Long Island Iced Tea and Jimmy and Sebastian had finished off their first pitcher of lager and had circled back to discussing music. She and Jimmy's boyfriend, Brian, had been having a hell of a time watching the women eye Sebastian like a side of beef and the guys fall over themselves to shake his hand.

The manager had told them drinks were on the house and he'd given them a table along the wall that was as secluded as possible. The stream of fanboys and girls with barely covered breasts had finally slowed and Sabrina had started to unwind.

“You look like you're finally having a good time.”

Sebastian leaned in but actually had to lower his voice so it wouldn't carry. This close to closing, the music had been turned down to a more manageable level. She'd never been a fan of hard rock for the simple fact that people apparently thought it only sounded really good if it was turned up to eleven.

“I am. Thanks for asking me to come with you. I didn't want to spend another night in my room.”

“Waiting for him to call, huh?”

She met Sebastian's gaze head on. “He's busy. We picked a really bad time to . . . do whatever it is we're doing.”

“But you're still waiting for him.”

She forced a smile. “Well, not tonight, obviously. I haven't looked at my phone since we left the hotel. And here I am, listening to really awful music with you.”

Sebastian laughed. “Hey, Jimmy. I don't think Sabrina appreciates the sheer awesomeness of Anthrax. Maybe we should request a little Pantera.”

As the guys laughed and talked about bands she'd never heard of, she felt that knot in her shoulders loosen even more.

By the time they left an hour later, Sabrina had a buzz and a smile as she and Sebastian waved good-bye to Jimmy and Brian, then folded themselves into a taxi for the ride back to the hotel.

“Now you're smiling.” Sebastian touched a finger to her cheek. “Glad to finally see it.”

She let her smile widen, grabbing his hand and lacing their fingers together. She had the fleeting thought that she was crossing a line but, other than the first night they'd met, Sebastian had treated her like a friend.

“Guess I needed a night out.”

“You've been working a lot of hours and not doing much of anything else. That'll fry you faster than a microwave. Hicks giving you problems?”

Sighing, Sabrina shook her head. “We haven't seen each other enough to have problems. I've spent more time with you in the past two weeks than I have with him.”

Which was totally true. It had started with that first night in the music room. Since then, Sebastian had asked her to join him there a couple nights a week. He'd said it was because he wanted someone who didn't know his music to give him an honest opinion but, in the past several nights, it'd become more about two friends talking. With Annabelle and Kate so wrapped up in their men's lives and careers of their own, Sabrina had started to feel like a fifth wheel.

She knew it wasn't a conscious decision on their parts. It was just the way things worked. It still sucked but it forced her to widen her circle of friends.

She'd never expected her new best friend to be male. Or a rock god. Of course, with her, Sebastian didn't play the part of the hard-partying, trash-talking womanizer he appeared to be on the Internet.

He was just Sebastian, who made her laugh with his stupid-ass jokes and made her feel comfortable enough to tell him anything. Yes, the guy was totally hot but she didn't want to climb all over him like she wanted to do to Greg whenever she saw him. Which hadn't been a lot lately.

“I hate to go to bat for the guy but I heard he's having some trouble with a couple of his actors. It's tough to have all that money and expectation riding on your shoulders.”

She squeezed his hand before releasing it. And, if he didn't release her immediately, well, she chose to ignore that.