Playing the Part (13 page)

Chapter Seventeen

The chiming of her smartphone echoing through her apartment broke Piper out of her stupor. She grabbed the phone, looking to see who was calling.

Mick.

Sighing, she debated whether to answer. After that awful night two days ago, she’d turned off her phone and refused to look at her e-mail. She’d needed the time to get in her head and figure out what she wanted to do about the mess. The problem was that her heart spoke louder than her head, whispering a steady stream of yearning for Mick that didn’t even stop in her sleep. Dreams of him touching her, loving her, left her aching when she awoke. The first few seconds of consciousness were wonderful—tumbled with sleep and warm in the cocoon of her bed, she luxuriated in the memory of the man she loved until the harsh reality that he wasn’t hers left her gasping with the pain of the loss.

Mick had been persistent, even calling Chris to try to get her to talk to him, but she hadn’t been ready to face him. But just this morning she’d left her apartment for the first time since the story broke and the mob of photographers at her building entrance had only grown. She couldn’t hide forever.

Now was the time to deal with this whole situation and figure out the best path forward.

She clicked on the icon.

“Piper? Can you hear me?” Mick asked.

The noise in the background was loud—voices, traffic, cars honking. “Where are you?”

“I’m in front of your apartment with about twenty of my closest
friends
from every tabloid and press service. They’re making sure that every second of me standing here like an idiot is recorded for posterity.”

Oh my God.
He was in New York. Her heart did a flip and somersaulted into the pit of her stomach, landing with a happy little thud. She scooted across the floor, turning on the video security camera trained on the sidewalk at her building door.

There he was, on her sidewalk, his suitcase at his feet and an absurdly large box in his arms. Piper drank him in. She couldn’t help herself. He looked up at the camera, his green eyes lighting up with surprise, his mouth twisting into that sexy smile that burned her down to her marrow. Damn, she’d missed that smile and his face… Hell, she’d missed him. Period.

“Why aren’t you in California? Or London?” she asked.

“Because I needed to make sure you were okay first. And I have something for you,”

“What is it?” The question slipped out before she could stop it. She needed to be smart about this.

If she was smart, she’d disconnect the call and never know what he had planned, because in her gut she knew she’d love it. And if she loved it, she would give in to him, and that wasn’t the smart thing to do. The smart thing was to go out with the CFO who kept calling her and let him talk about numbers and spreadsheets all night.

There was no danger of her doing something crazy when spreadsheets were involved.

“I’m not going to tell you. You have to let me in.”

“You don’t play fair, Mick Blackwell.”

“I thought we already discussed that. I don’t play fair, I play to win.”

“What’s the prize?” What the hell was wrong with her? She was flirting with him when she should be sending his cute ass back to LA.

“I’ll know when I win it.” Mick looked over his shoulder at the photographers, dropping his voice to speak into the phone. “But I can tell you that I hope it involves me buried in you so deep I can’t breathe.”

Oh hell. She loved it when he talked dirty. It was a rush to know that beyond the movies, books, and publicity, she made him hot. Man and woman. Here and now. Simple.

She’d written all those romance novels just hoping the right man would step off the page and look at her the way Mick was looking at her right now. And something told her that if she passed up this chance, it would never happen again.

The whole fiasco with Antonio had torn down everything she knew about herself until there was nothing but a shell for the outside world. She didn’t know who she was anymore, either. But for the first time in a long time she knew who she wanted to be—the woman who’d attracted and caught the elusive Mick Blackwell.
That
woman was fucking awesome.

Her body aching for him, she pushed the button to give him entrance to the building. She was crazy, led around by her libido, and she would get exactly what she deserved in the end.

But tonight she was going to take what Mick offered because the memory of him buried in her body when she came apart was just about the best idea ever.

“So, Piper, what’s it gonna be?” Mick asked.

She grinned, leaning into the screen and speaking loudly to make sure he heard her clearly. “How fast can you make it upstairs?”

…

“Come on, damn it.” Juggling his bag and the large box in his hands, Mick impatiently hit the elevator button for Piper’s floor and then groaned when the stupid doors closed with agonizing slowness.

He’d sailed through the lobby of her building, the God of Horny Lovers parting the sea of her neighbors and even delivering a waiting, empty elevator just for him. She’d called down to her doorman, and he was admitted without any hassle—smooth sailing until he’d come up against the creeping progress of the elevator.

The floors clicked by until the car finally stopped and the doors opened onto a hallway. He stepped out, his heart pounding in his ears with his excitement at being so close to seeing her again…and then she was there.

Standing in an open door halfway down the hall, her dark hair pulled up in a messy bun, wearing a black sleeveless sundress and no shoes. She pushed her glasses higher up on her nose and broke into a smile that made him run the last few steps to her.

He lifted her up in his arms, and Piper locked her legs around his waist the moment their lips met in a crushing kiss of teeth, lips, and tongues. He stumbled through the doorway, tossed his bag and parcel on the floor, and closed the door with the impact of their bodies as he pushed her up against it. They both groaned when he ground against her, the aching length of his cock finding that perfect place between her legs that drove them both insane.

Piper’s feet pressed against his back, demanding he keep up the friction as they ate at each other’s mouths, barely separating for the necessary gulps of air. With Piper pinned securely against the door, he was free to let his hands wander over her body, mapping the familiar curves and favorite places. She gasped when he pulled aside her neckline, exposing her lush breasts to his caress. He skimmed a fingertip over a nipple, the sensation of it hardening to a tight peak and her needy cry barely leaving him any thread of sanity to cling to.

“Please, Mick,” Piper moaned against his neck, licking the place where she’d sunk her teeth into him a few seconds earlier.

“I’ve got to have you.” He dug his shaking hands into his back pocket where he had stashed a condom on the way over. Using his teeth, he ripped open the wrapper, almost falling to his knees when he felt her hands dragging over his crotch, unbuttoning his fly, and lowering the zipper on his jeans. With both of them working toward the goal, he was covered and inside her within a matter of seconds.

“Goddamn,” Mick breathed against her hair. She was so hot, so wet, and so tight. If she moved an inch he’d come, and this would be over before it had even begun. That was not going to happen. “Don’t move. Please.”

She shifted against him, her hips rising just enough to leave him wanting, and then descended to cover him completely with her heat.

It had been too long. Too long for him to go slow, to start at a reasonable pace and let the passion build between them. Instead, he pounded into her, using the immovable door at her back to leverage his thrusts inside her body at a brutal pace. Piper sighed, cried out, and clung to him with each move of his hips. He rushed to claim her with his body, to mark what was his and leave her with a memory that would erase any other man from her mind. There was no playing any part, no masks to hide behind as they followed the undeniable call to be everything to each other in this moment.

His orgasm, building in his balls, started a low buzz at the base of his spine, and he knew it would be over soon. He had no power, no finesse that would extend this joining. It was primal and demanded its release.

“Mick!” Piper’s voice was a sharp wail as she plunged into her pleasure, her sex squeezing him in time with the clamping of her legs around his hips.

“Oh God.” Mick locked his knees to prevent himself from falling when his orgasm slammed through him, stealing his breath for a few seconds until his hammering heart demanded oxygen. He thrust up into her, milking out every last shock of pleasure until he was spent.

Slowly, they slid to the floor in a heap of tangled limbs and feverish skin.

“Piper. Tell me we can keep doing this.”

She didn’t flinch or pull away like he thought she would. Instead, she snuggled in closer, lifting her head to rest her chin on his chest and look him in the face.

“We shouldn’t.”

“But we will.”

“Yes.”

He stiffened underneath her, not sure if he heard her clearly with the residual orgasm buzz still in his ears. “Really?”

“How, though?” She looked back up at him, resting her cheek on his chest, tracing her fingers lightly along his jaw.

“Phone calls, Skype, long weekends, and lots of phone sex.” He smiled and pressed a kiss against her hair, inhaling her sweet scent.

He considered telling her about Jack and Lincoln’s suspicion about Lewis but decided against it. Once they knew for certain who the leak was, he’d tell her. “And I can come to New York more often. I’m about to start a whole new era in the career of Mick Blackwell.”

“What’s that entail?”

“I’ll be giving the studio a firm deadline to give me the deal or I’m going to walk. And even if they don’t, I’m going to start my own production company so I can develop my own projects.”

Piper’s brows crunched together, and he noticed the shadows around her eyes. She was still beautiful, but up close he could tell she’d had a rough few days.

“Do you think you’d be interested in branching out into the book publishing industry? I might be on the lookout for a new publisher,” she grumbled.

Oh hell.
“What happened?”

“My publisher isn’t happy at all with the pictures. I don’t write sweet romance, but my books are a far cry from erotica. My readership expects certain things from me, including a particular image.” She rolled her eyes and played with the collar of his T-shirt. “Between my editor, my mother, and some choice e-mails from now former readers, I feel like I’m sixteen years old and got caught with my boyfriend in the backseat of his car on prom night.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I wait to see if they’ll accept the latest book. If they pass on it, I don’t know what I’ll do. Chris has feelers out to other houses, but they are cautious. Some friends are self-published, but I don’t think that’s for me.”

“Well, if those idiots are stupid enough to let you go, you’ll land somewhere that isn’t populated by a bunch of fucking morons.”

Piper stared at him, her eyes full of humor, her lips held tight against the laugh he could see trembling behind them. He’d done that—he’d wiped away some of the stress he saw on her face and had replaced it with humor and happiness. A guy could used to that kind of power.

“You have quite the way with words, mister,” she said.

“And I didn’t even have a script.” He mugged a face, delighting when she gave in and laughed out loud. “Sit up. I want to give you your present.”

They righted their clothing, shifting around on the floor, and he reached for the box and handed it over to her. It was fifty-fifty whether she would slug him or kiss him.

Piper gave him a quizzical look as she unknotted the ribbon. When she lifted the lid, she stared, the box suspended from her fingertips in midair.

“It’s the dress from Keiko,” he said, knowing she knew but needing to fill the silence.

“I know. It’s a fifteen-thousand-dollar dress.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, her eyes now tracking where her hands touched the beautiful silk. She looked up at him, her eyes wide, and he could see the tears pooled and sparkling along her lashes.

Oh shit. He hoped the tears were a good sign.

He suddenly felt unsure of himself. “You still need something to wear to the premiere.” He swallowed hard, surprised at the way his heart pounded in his chest. Suddenly he gave a shit about her reaction, and that made him a little queasy. If being in a relationship was half this hard, it was no wonder all the poor bastards who were married looked like shit. “I figured it was something a boyfriend would get his girlfriend.”

“Your what?”

“Girlfriend.” He tucked a curl behind her ear, surprised to see his hand shaking a little. “C’mon throw me a bone. I’ve never been here before.”

“Been where?”

“Here. With you. Hoping to stay there.”

Piper eye’s fluttered shut and then opened to reveal eyes bright with tears and something he hoped he wasn’t misreading. “It’s beautiful. But you should—”

“Don’t talk about the money. If you only knew how much I made last year you wouldn’t worry about it.” He scooted over to her, cupping her face in his hands, pressing a kiss to her lips before continuing. “It was so gorgeous on you, and I couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else wearing it. So please just say ‘thank you’ and wear it. For me.”

She paused, and he could see a million reasons why she should refuse running through her mind.

“For you.” She held him off when he dove in for another kiss, pointing a finger at him to emphasize her point. “But you can’t do this kind of thing again. It’s just too much.”

“No promises I know I won’t keep. C’mon.” He shifted to his feet, bringing her with him. “Where’s your bathroom? We need to get cleaned up.”

She led him down the hallway and then turned into a large bedroom and motioned toward her bath. He looked around the large, sunny room with high ceilings. The colors were a silvery gray and cream and a vintage, retro kind of look. Very “Piper.”