The Movie Star's Red Hot Holiday Fling: A novella (Entangled Indulgence) (Sweetbriar Springs) (6 page)

Read The Movie Star's Red Hot Holiday Fling: A novella (Entangled Indulgence) (Sweetbriar Springs) Online

Authors: Christine Glover

Tags: #romance, #Springs, #Entangled, #Sweetbriar, #Indulgence

BOOK: The Movie Star's Red Hot Holiday Fling: A novella (Entangled Indulgence) (Sweetbriar Springs)
11.59Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Chapter Nine

Jessie’s vision blurred, agony stabbed behind her eyes. Months of suppressed survivor guilt and grief torpedoed straight through her heart, annihilating her defenses. “It’s not my fault that… that…?” She couldn’t speak through the knot of emotion lodged in her throat.

“You aren’t responsible for Rodriguez’s death.” Blake framed her face, kissing her scalding tears. “The enemy double booby-trapped the bomb. Rodriquez’s quick action to protect his explosive ordnance disposal team got him killed. I’d bet every penny I’ve made as Quinn Sawyer that he’d want you to quit condemning yourself for his loss. You were in a war zone. Dangerous territory. Marines take care of their own—you’d have done the same.”

“I miss him,” she whispered, a sob catching in her throat. “I miss everything about him. About my team. About my life.”

“And you haven’t given yourself permission to say good-bye,” he said.

“I don’t want to say good-bye.” The sorrow roped around her heart and squeezed an anguished wail from the depths of her soul. “I want hellos and tomorrows and all the in-betweens.” She held her waist, rocking and gulping in air.

“You’ll have them.” He wrapped his arm around her heaving shoulders, drew her into his embrace. “But you’ve got to let go of the past if you’re going to have the future you deserve.”

She clasped her hands around his neck, sobbing, drawing in huge breaths of air, unable to articulate.

“That’s it, babe,” he murmured. “Don’t hold back, ’cause I’ve got you.”

She wept until the well of sorrow within her ran dry and the stake of remorse pulled free. Through all her shuddering gasps, Jessie clung to Blake until the burden that had weighed her down for months lifted.

Her sobs subsided. Blake was right. All the months of worrying about what she might have done differently if she could go back to that day and relive it evaporated. She’d never believed she deserved to be alive, and had lain awake for nights on end replaying the pieces she could remember, afraid that she was at fault.

The only people to blame were the people who had manufactured the double booby trap IED. What had happened was a reality of war. A reality she hated. And one that meant she’d never see her leader again—but she no longer needed to shoulder the extreme guilt she’d carried for being alive.

She was free, able to move on.

Jessie’s heartbeat slowed and her breathing regulated to a normal rhythm. She stayed bound to Blake’s strength, listening to his soothing words of comfort, feeling him stroking her back.

She needed the shelter he provided. The place that existed within the sweet surrender of shared intimacy.

Jessie kissed the base of his throat, tasting him as if for the first time. Here was where she belonged. Here was where she needed to stay. And here was where her desire melded with a yearning to remain forever connected.

She caressed the rough stubble on his jawline. “Blake,” she whispered. “I need you.”

Somehow he lifted her from the couch, cradled her in his strong arms. “You have me,” he said, fusing his mouth to hers.

Molten heat swirled low, filled every crevice. An exquisite ache pulsed between her thighs. She moaned against his lips, opening them wider, kissing him.

Blake carried her to the bedroom and lowered her to the duvet’s soft cover, then stretched his body over hers. He framed her face, grinding against her in fluid, sensual movements.

Currents flowed through her, and she arched. “Blake, I want…”

“You’ll have all of me,” he said. “I promise.”

He pressed a kiss at the base of her throat. Her pulse leaped, making her feel more vulnerable, exposed. And adored.

Blake slid his hands to her hips; passion flared in his dark emerald eyes as he tugged her shirt free. Reverently, his hand glided under it, pulling it over her head with a gentle sweep.

“You’re more than I ever expected,” he said.

Her heart dipped into a pool of hope. This was more than sex, more than giving and taking pleasure. “So are you,” she replied, trusting him.

Wordlessly, they finished undressing each other until they lay skin-to-naked-skin, rediscovering each other. Intimately, exquisitely losing themselves in the physical connection.

Not rushed. Not frantic. Not frenzied.

She explored his body, loving the feel of his skin, the taste of his unique flavor of man on her tongue. Loving the warm slide of his palms on her bare torso, the heat of his mouth tasting her breasts. And loving the velvet-covered steel of his erection pressing against her, pulsing with desire, wanting her.

Jessie wanted to savor every touch, every nuance, every moment. To bottle every sensation and emotion welling inside her. To drink from the precious memory of his body’s claim. “Blake,” she whispered, circling his arousal and drawing him near.

He produced a condom, sheathed himself. “I’ve got you.” He slid into her, filling her.

“I believe you.”

His face was etched in fierce lines as he thrust into her again and again. Jessie’s heart cracked open a little wider, letting him claim her. Brand her as his.


Blake moved inside Jessie, her inner walls enveloping him, surrounding him with her silken, wet core. With each long thrust into her depths, he could feel her climax building, her orgasmic spasms drawing him deeper.

He locked his eyes on hers, stroking in and out of her warmth, quickening his pace. “Lose yourself with me.”

“Only for you,” she said, raising her pelvis in perfect sync with his.

On this bed, loving Jessie with his body, was where he belonged.

Blake buried himself to the hilt, his shaft pulsing and driving him to the brink of insanity. “You’re mine.” He drove in again as the first gathering waves of her orgasm shuddered around him.

“Blake,” she screamed.

He flew over the precipice with her, his release slamming through him, his own cry answering hers. And when he soared into the oblivion, his heart followed.

Blake collapsed on her, panting, waiting for his breath to return before rolling to one side, pulling her with him. “You all right?” he asked.

“Better than all right. You?”

Outside the window, the moon glowed and silver lined the dark clouds. He could hear the wind whistling through the trees, a branch tapping on the roof. Coldness settled deep in his lungs. They had precious few days left, and the thought of not having this spunky woman in his world twisted his stomach into knots.

He tightened his hold, reached for a blanket at the foot of the bed, and pulled it over them. “You paralyzed me,” he said.

She tipped her chin up, her slate-blue eyes on his. “That’s a temporary condition, I hope.”

His member stirred to life. “Very temporary.” Better to concentrate on the physical side of their relationship than the dangerous emotions building between them.

Minutes later, Blake replaced his condom and lost himself in her warmth again.

After they’d cleaned up and ordered room service, Jessie and Blake sat on the couch. She swirled a French fry into a dollop of ketchup and took a bite, considering him with her steel-glinted eyes.

“What?” he asked.

She swallowed. “I’m sorry I called you a shallow movie star when I first met you,” she said. “You’re a good man, Blake.”

Warmth filled his chest. All the admiration of his fans didn’t compare to Jessie’s seal of approval. But if he was so fucking good, why’d his movie franchise hire a hack to read through his script proposal before they agreed to his terms five hours ago?

Though Jessie said all the right things, he couldn’t completely trust the words. He wanted to—and that confused the hell out of him. “It was the right thing to do,” he said, shrugging. Better to downplay what he had done.

“Not every guy does the right thing,” Jessie said. “But you do.”

The knot in his stomach doubled. He’d hidden the truth about the screenplay he’d sent to the studio days ago. Sure, he’d wanted to tell her earlier. He’d held back because she’d put a sexual buffer between them. Their heated encounter in the sauna had been awesome, but it had made him wary of her reaction. “I try,” he said. He’d tell her about the next Quinn Sawyer
movie’s direction during his sister’s New Year’s Eve party. Right now he didn’t want to spoil this tender moment, the afterglow of their lovemaking, with his current battle to sell more than a hot body on the screen. Not when her smoky blue eyes sparkled as if she hadn’t a care in the world, and happiness lighted her lovely face.

“I’m glad I met you—the real you. Not just the man I read about on the internet.”

Hearing the sincerity in her voice unraveled his inner resolve to hold back the truth, smoothed out the lingering remorse and tension. “I’ve considered quitting the role.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “Move my career in a different direction.”

She blinked. “You can’t. Everyone loves Quinn Sawyer
.

What if she didn’t like his screenplay? Yes, he’d gotten approval from the studio, but deep down, he wanted hers. And that scared the crap out of him. “They love a fantasy.” He polished off the last of his burger. “I’m a make-believe hero who doesn’t even dodge real bullets.”

“No fair using my words against me.” She brushed her lips against his. “People need to believe that good triumphs over evil. And a Quinn Sawyer movie gives them an escape.”

“What you did—being part of the Marine Corps—was important. What you’re gearing up to do with the fire academy is important. I’d like to do something that matters, too.” He nearly let the truth slip out. But bitter memories popped into his head, stopping him before he made a total ass of himself.

She curled her arm around his waist. “Then keep making your movies, Blake.”

“I doubt the audiences will want me to play Quinn Sawyer when I’m old and gray,” he said, stroking her arm.

“Probably not, but you’re a smart man.” She tightened her hold. “Based on how well you know the other side of the camera, I bet you’d make a fantastic director.”

“Already on the table,” he said. “Among other things.” Like writing kick-ass scripts for the franchise. Still, he drop-kicked the compulsion to reveal that extra information. Why risk upsetting Jessie when everything was so damn good?

“You’ll be hotter than ever when you return to Hollyweird on the third. Actresses will be sucking up to you for movie parts,” Jessie said.

“That’s not all it’s cracked up to be,” Blake said.

Every woman he’d ever been with only wanted him for what he could give. First, the girls in high school had used him for sex and as a way to freak out their folks. Not that he’d minded the sex. Later, when he’d made it big in Hollywood, the women he dated wanted to use him to advance their careers. Or they had wanted a marriage license because he was a quick ticket to the good life.

And no way was he going to let any woman use him that way.

“Well, you’ve shown me how to have my own happy ending even if it’s not on the big screen.” She covered his hand. “That’s a gift.”

Her gray eyes softened, turned to pools of silver blue. A strange sensation stirred. For the first time since he had fought to gain the respect of his movie franchise and transcend the role of Quinn Sawyer, Blake longed to be worthy of only one person. Jessie. But he’d held back something important. Something that could draw her nearer to him or tear her apart. He didn’t want to hurt her when he’d given her what she’d needed most: her own path to happiness.

She didn’t need him for anything more.

Still, he searched for a way to keep Jessie involved in his life. A way that would allow him to wiggle out of any judgment she might have about how he’d taken bits and pieces of her life and woven them into his script.

Plus, he wanted to spend more time with her. Not because he couldn’t get enough of Jessie, but because he liked her. Admired her. “That fire department position isn’t your only option,” he said after several long beats of silence. If she agreed to his plan, she’d be an integral part of the movie he wanted to film.

She stiffened in his arms and jerked her head back. “You think I won’t pass the physical?” she asked.

His breath caught in his chest. Once she’d wanted the world. He could offer that to her. “You’ll pass.” He stroked his thumb pad over her temple. “But didn’t you join the Marines to experience new things?”

“Yes,” she said. “And to serve my country.”

“You said what I did was important.” He melded his mouth on hers. “You’d make a hell of a great demolitions expert on the Quinn Sawyer movie sets.”

“Why would you want to hire me?” she asked. “I have zero experience.”

“You have experience where it counts. Besides, you won’t bullshit me,” he said.

“And us?” she asked. “What about that?”

“Us is good.” He sucked in her lower lip. “Very good.” An electric shock skimmed through him. Oh yeah, he could get used to this kind of good.

“And if we aren’t good anymore?”

“Then you’ll be part of a great team,” he said, still nibbling. “Making a difference.”

“I thought I had to prove something by getting accepted into the fire academy.” She puffed out air. “I wanted to do anything to make up for what happened to Rodriguez.”

Blake drew her into his embrace. “You’re free of that now.”

“I know,” Jessie whispered. “What you’re offering is tempting, but…”

He cut off her sentence, kissing her, tasting the salt on her tongue and the sweetness of her mouth. She molded her lips to his, joining him so easily that he couldn’t imagine letting her go. “No buts,” he said when they stopped. Hearing her say no wasn’t an option. “Let me know what you decide before the New Year’s Eve party.”

He’d tell her about the script if she said yes. Otherwise there’d be no reason to clue her in at all.

Chapter Ten

Of all the things Blake could have asked of her, becoming part of Hollywood’s elite Quinn Sawyer franchise hadn’t crossed Jessie’s mind. Now, one day before the New Year’s Eve party, she sat at her computer desk, weighing the pros and cons of accepting his offer.

Before she made a decision, she had to understand what she’d get herself into if she said yes. A Google search of images for Blake turned up the usual long, sleek, beautiful women at various red carpet functions.

“I don’t know,” Jessie said to her mother. “He’s perfect and I’m well…you know…not.”

Shannon leaned over to check out the screen shots. “Blake is one tall glass of gorgeous, but you’re too hard on yourself.”

“Look at his regular parade of dates,” Jessie said. “I’m not the prettiest woman in the room. I wouldn’t fit in.”

“You went against the mold when you became a Marine. You can fit wherever you choose to go.” Her mother stroked Jessie’s arm. “Blake respects you. He wants to hire you to do a job that’s right up your alley. Selfishly, I’d like to know you’re out of harm’s way when you go back to work.”

Jessie put her left hand on top of her mom’s, holding her in a familiar half hug. Her mom hadn’t left her side since she’d returned to the States after she’d been stabilized in Germany. “I’m sorry my decisions gave you so many worries, not to mention the biggest scare of all.”

“You’re alive.” Her mom’s voice wavered. “I know serving your community is important to you.”

“I’ve spent the better part of the past two months training for one thing.” All along she’d prayed that passing the fire academy’s grueling physical would help her move past the emotional scars she’d carried for over a year. “I won’t fail if I take the test.” Blake’s Marine Corps-approved workouts had more than prepared her.

“Are you afraid you won’t make the grade in Hollywood as an explosives expert?”

“I can do the job.” Jessie opened another online magazine article. “I’m not sure I can endure this kind of ongoing scrutiny. Look at what they’re writing. They say Blake’s slumming it with his current woman-of-the-month.” Her stomach squeezed tight. She’d never be accepted in Hollywood’s elite circles other than as Blake’s pity date.

“That’s just jealous gossip,” her mom said. “Are you going to let what other people think drive your decision?”

Jessie closed the article, shut down her computer, and stood. “I’d have to leave Sweetbriar Springs.”

Her mom held her at arms’ length. “Sweetbriar Springs could never contain you. Even when you were in high school, you always signed up to go on field trips out of state. You’re my daughter. I’d love to keep you here, but you’ve always longed for more.”

“My leaving ended up putting you all through hell.”

“You were called to serve, and we’re proud that you answered.” Jessie’s mom walked over to the bureau, opened the jewelry box, and lifted the dog tags. “You always were an adrenaline junky. The fire academy does offer you a way to give back. But do you really want to stay in Sweetbriar Springs?”

The room’s overhead light reflected on her tags. “On the one hand, yes.” Her family’s love, their unconditional acceptance would always be the source of her inner guiding compass. But had her heart truly returned?

Jessie stared at the full-length mirror next to her bedroom door. She’d taken the time to put on a smidge of makeup and fussed with her short, spiky hair, and she wasn’t unsatisfied with the results. No matter what some dumb article said about her, Blake didn’t see her as a mercy date.

More military action was out. More tours of duty no longer existed. More adrenaline rushes when she dismantled IEDs weren’t on her future radar screen. But could the thrill and rush and adrenaline of being with Blake be her life’s next amazing chapter?

She took her tags and returned the chain to her jewelry box. “The offer is tempting.”

“So you’ll consider it?”

“I’m going to talk to Blake about it today.”

Her mom hugged her and walked to the bedroom door. “I’ll stand by whatever you choose. However, I expect you to act upon what your gut tells you to do,” she said and left, closing the door behind her.

Jessie opened her bureau, then drew out the box that held her Purple Heart. A familiar ache pricked behind her eyes, but this time, pride accompanied the sorrow. Because Blake had gone out of his way to discover the truth. Talking to Woodall and Constanza. Getting the facts. Then showing her a more accurate picture about the day that had haunted her for over a year. She snapped open its hinges and lifted out the medal. Blake had given her a new perspective about herself, too. Sure, a few sexy models had snubbed her when he wasn’t around to stop their idiotic behavior, but only a man who cared deeply would go to such lengths to help her find peace.

While she wasn’t the type to fantasize about rings and weddings, she was half in love with Blake. Though he’d never said the words or promised more.

She turned the heart-shaped medal around, remembering her Marine oath. Was she willing to take a leap off the proverbial cliff of doubt to grab onto this different chance? Light glinted off the medal. She didn’t need a proposal when the man in question had given her something far greater.

Herself.

Warmth flooded her senses, propelling her to act. Slipping the box into her fleece hoodie’s generous pocket, she exited her family’s residential wing. Blake had said to wait until after the New Year’s Eve party to give him her final answer, but she wanted to celebrate a new year, and new beginnings, with him.

And she wanted to banish the lingering reservations she had about whether or not she’d ever be good enough to be part of Blake’s world.


An hour later, Jessie used Blake’s extra key card to get inside his suite. There was no sign of him. Turning to leave, she caught sight of his open laptop. A frisson of curiosity unfurled in her belly. One move of the computer mouse and she’d be able to read the screen. She shook her head. She shouldn’t look at what he’d written, but now that she’d decided to be part of the movies he made, surely a little recon wouldn’t hurt?

She played with the medal box in her pocket, opening and closing it sightlessly until she withdrew the contents. Stepping closer, Jessie shifted the mouse, and the screen flashed to life. Her senses zipped into overdrive, every muscle pinged with adrenaline. Yup. Definitely a Quinn Sawyer screenplay. Intrigued, she moved the mouse’s cursor to scroll down the display. What little she read blurred in front of her eyes.

He had described in detail the inner and outer turmoil she’d endured as a wounded warrior.

Anguish, jagged and sharp, lanced straight through her sternum. Everything she’d believed to be true about Blake scored the back of her throat. How could he use her this way? The medal slipped.

“What are you doing here?”

She whipped around. “Doing a little light reading,” Jessie said after she managed to cool the fire burning inside her.

“You weren’t supposed to see that.” He crossed the floor, then shut the laptop.

“No kidding.” She forced the boulder lodged in her esophagus down. “You used our workouts to get into my head, and as a bonus you got into my pants.”

A muscle twitched in his jawline. “That’s not the way it was, Jessie.”

She refused to show him any weakness. “You used my injuries as a backdrop for your screenplay,” Jessie said. “How dare you?”

Blake regarded her with his fathomless green eyes, his scrutiny cutting straight to her soul. “I planned to tell you about the screenplay at the party.”

Heat flushed through her chest and slapped her cheeks. “Oh really?” she asked. “And that would happen before or after you had more mercy sex with me?”

“You know that isn’t true.”

“I won’t let you make that movie. I’ll sue before you make a mockery of my life.”

He grabbed her wrist. “I wrote the original premise before I met you,” he said. “Being with you influenced my story because I care about you. Your strength, the lengths to which you’ve gone while fighting to regain your life, gave me a story with heart.”

“You care?” She jerked away. “If you did, you would have told me about this story, or at least asked for permission to expose my life and how disgusting I feel whenever I look in a mirror.”

He flinched. “I’ve never given you any reason to think I don’t find you attractive.”

She felt her blood pounding, heard banging, banging, banging inside her head. “Of course not. You used my fears and pain and the ugliness I’ve lived with to impress your franchise’s big shots.” Jessie pressed her palms against her hot ears to muffle her internal scream. She waited for the awful beating drums of rage to subside. “This isn’t about heart, it’s about making gobs of money.”

“You’re wrong.”

He reached for her, but she batted him away. She’d shatter into a thousand pieces if he touched her again.

“You judged and convicted yourself for months without having all the facts,” Blake said. “Now you’re doing it to me.”

Spots blurred her vision. She stumbled back a step, clutched the doorjamb, struggling to regain her balance. How dare he use the desolation and suffering she’d endured—all the wounds of her past?

Everything crystallized inside her, splintered into a million pieces. “I trusted you, but you refused to tell me about this one important thing.”

“I wanted a rock solid deal before I told you,” Blake said. “If the screenplay didn’t get approved, I wasn’t going back to the franchise. There wouldn’t have been a point in telling you because I’d have shredded the script. No harm, no foul. Now I’m in the position to take control of the movie franchise, and we have a shot at a future together.”

Something fierce snapped inside her, whipped against her ribcage. Love for the man behind the action hero he played on film warred with the pain lashing at her heart. As much as she wanted to believe Blake hadn’t intended to hurt her, Jessie couldn’t let him determine what he would or wouldn’t share with her. She deserved so much more than that. So did he.

There was only one way to force him to see that he’d lost the one thing that could keep him grounded and whole. Splinters pricked behind her eyes. Oh, how she wished she didn’t have to do this, but she summoned up her courage and found the strength to speak.

Other books

The Roots of Obama's Rage by D'Souza, Dinesh
Rosanne Bittner by Paradise Valley
Blood Hunt by Lee Killough
Mile High by Richard Condon
When Old Men Die by Bill Crider
At the Sign of the Star by Katherine Sturtevant
Watch Me by Shelley Bradley
Ice Queen by Joey W. Hill