Matt

My thighs ached as I stepped out of the shower. I’d extended my run this morning. I needed to get rid of as much excess energy as possible because a day in the car with Lana without being able to touch her, kiss her or fuck her was going to keep my balls blue. Just as they’d been since I let her walk off my porch two days ago.

Blue, purple or fucking orange balls, I didn’t care—I was looking forward to our trip today, even though I really should have cancelled. In fact, I shouldn’t have suggested it at all. I’d had to convince her to come with me and that was a new experience. I wasn’t used to working to get a woman to do what I wanted, but I liked the challenge. And she seemed worth the risk.

I dried off, then pulled on some shorts and a t-shirt. Nothing that would attract attention. Most of the women I’d fucked along the way had been desperate to go to the most photographed places in LA—needy for eyes on them and hopeful they’d be discovered just by being seen with me. But not Lana. She’d seemed horrified at the thought of someone seeing us together. Maybe she was just afraid she’d expose my relationship with Audrey, but something in the way Lana’s whole body had tightened at the thought of discovery made me think it went deeper than that. I grabbed my wallet and sunglasses from my nightstand and headed out. I didn’t want to be late.

My assistant had arranged for a nondescript car to be delivered first thing this morning complete with a packed picnic in the trunk. I hadn’t driven the first one much, but just in case some photographer had clocked the license plate, I’d swapped it out. I wanted Lana to feel completely comfortable. And there was no point in taking unnecessary risks. I didn’t want to needlessly jeopardize my career.

I took the steps to her porch in two strides and knocked on the door.

She swore.

“I heard that,” I said with a chuckle.

“I just spilled—never mind. Come in!”

I opened the door and stepped inside. “Lana?” I asked when I didn’t spot her.

She popped up from the other side of the counter. “Here. I just spilled my coffee.” She held up a cloth as if to prove her point. “I’m not very coordinated in the morning.”

Maybe not, but she was beautiful. Her cheeks were flushed and her chestnut hair fanned out over her shoulders. I scanned her body, stopping when I found what I was looking for. “Nice skirt.” I tried to suppress my grin. She might make me work for it, but the reward was well worth it.

She lifted her shoulder as if it was no big deal. I knew better. I couldn’t imagine Lana was the type of girl who did what men told her very often.

“You look beautiful.”

She ignored my compliment. “Ready to go?”

“Your carriage awaits.”

She beamed, the warmth of her unrestrained smile radiating out at me.

I held the door open and she passed by, leaving a trail of ocean breeze and roses. She was like an old-Hollywood movie star.

“Where’s your car?” She paused at the top of the steps and looked back at me.

I nodded forward. “Right there. I thought I’d mix it up a little.”

Her eyebrows drew together a little before she turned back and headed toward the SUV.

“You had a sports car.”

“I thought this was a little less conspicuous. That okay?”

Her shoulders lowered as she approached the passenger side. “Yeah. It’s more than okay.” I unlocked the car and reached for her door. Our hands collided. “You don’t need to do that.”

“I told you, I’m a boy from the Midwest. That’s what we do, so you’ll have to put up with it.” She dropped her hand and I took over. I wasn’t sure if she liked me in charge or whether she relented out of politeness. Either way, it felt good.

She slid into the seat as if she weren’t subject to the same rules of gravity as the rest of us. Fluid. Graceful.

I shut the door and rounded the trunk, spinning my keys on my forefinger. Yeah, today was going to be a good day.

“Holy crap, was I meant to pack the lunch?” she said, slapping her palms on her pleated skirt, the fabric riding up her thighs.

“I got it covered,” I replied, trying to pull my attention from her legs to the rearview mirror so I could reverse out of the drive.

“You do?”

“In the trunk. I didn’t make it, but it looks pretty good.”

“That’s so sweet of you.”

“Hey, I can’t exactly ask a girl on a date and then expect her to make the food.” I pulled onto the street and glanced at her when she didn’t respond.

“A date?” she asked, watching my face carefully.

“Yeah, a date.” I hadn’t really thought about it, but what else was it? I’d fucked her. I definitely wanted to fuck her again, and we were going to be spending the day exploring the coast alone. I was pretty sure this was a date.

“I thought I was just showing you my state,” she mumbled.

I chuckled. “I don’t want to sound like an asshole, but some girls might not be so downbeat at the thought of going on a date with me.”

She folded her arms. “I’m not some girls.”

“Well, that’s for damn sure.” I grinned as I turned onto Main Street.

“I just . . . I thought we were friends is all.”

“We are friends. Doesn’t mean we can’t be more.”

She took a deep breath. Would she deny it? She’d worn a skirt at my request, which didn’t exactly scream “friend zone.” How much of a fight was she going to put up?

“Where are we headed?” she asked, slipping her sunglasses over her eyes and slouching in her seat as we drove down Main Street.

“These windows are tinted. No one can see in.”

“People are staring,” she said.

“No, they’re not, but even if they were, who cares? Why are you so uncomfortable with a little attention? You’re gorgeous. I’d have thought you’d be used to it.”

“I don’t like people knowing my business.”

“So you decided to live in a small town?” I chuckled, turning out of Main Street and onto the main coastal highway. “Aren’t you better off in a big city?”

“Worthington is my home. I told you I went to college in New York.” Her voice trailed off and when I glanced at her she was staring at her lap. “It didn’t suit me.”

I loved New York—the buzz, the ambition, the complete melting pot of people. It seemed so exciting compared to Gary, Indiana. Places like Worthington existed in the glossy pages of magazines and books, but I found it hard to believe people actually lived there. Not because it wasn’t beautiful—it was too beautiful. Almost manufactured, it looked so perfect.

“What didn’t you like?”

“In college, everyone is in everyone else’s business.” Her hands were folded across her chest and her answers were clipped. She was clearly uncomfortable talking about this and I wanted to know why.

“I think you get that wherever you go, though. People love to gossip. And the bad is outweighed by the good.”

“Really?” She loosened her seatbelt and turned to face me. “Don’t you hate people constantly taking pictures of you, regardless of what you’re doing? Even if you’re just coming out of the gym or going to a restaurant?”

“It gets old, but success as a Hollywood actor comes at a price.”

“Isn’t that too much of a sacrifice?”

“I can’t really complain. It’s like wanting to become a lawyer but not enjoying reading or becoming a baker but hating cakes. No job is perfect. And if I want to be successful in Hollywood, being recognized is just part of it. I just have to put up with it. It’s my choice, and the upside is I paid off my dad’s mortgage, bought each of my brothers a house. I mean, there’s a lot to love about this acting gig.” I grinned, and thankfully she smiled back.

“Must be a nice feeling, providing for your family like that.” She rested the side of her head against the seat back.

I reached out, found her hand and laced our fingers together. “It is. And if I have someone taking pictures of me leaving the gym, well, I can handle that. It’s not the photographs themselves that are a problem. The thing that bothers me most is how people in the industry think they know me because they’ve seen my picture. Or a movie I’m in. Or because I used to be a model. They make assumptions—people have opinions about me before they’ve even met me.”

“I get that,” she said. “People can judge. But that’s true whoever you are.”

“I guess.” I sighed. “You’ve never wanted to be famous?” I asked. “Even as a kid?”

She shook her head. “Never. I’ve always loved jewelry and design. I thought at one point I’d want to do really high-end, exclusive pieces for the wealthy and fabulous.”

“What changed your mind?” I asked.

She shrugged and turned back to face the windshield, pulling her hand from mine. “Dreams change. I wanted to be in Worthington, so the shop made sense.”

I nodded. “I get it. When I left Indiana, I headed to Wall Street. I thought I was going to be some kind of finance whizz kid.”

“Really?” she asked, turning back to look at me. “So you haven’t always wanted to be an actor?”

“God, not at all. I wanted to wear slick suits and talk about options and trading and be a king of Wall Street. I really thought I was going to be a stockbroker.”

I glanced across at her and she was looking at me, her eyes wide enough to dive into.

I wanted to keep her attention, to share stuff with her in the hope she’d see a person I didn’t show many people. I wanted her to see the man beneath the star. I wanted her to know the real me. “I was ambitious as a teenager, but also impatient. I couldn’t wait to get out of Gary, and away from that world that belonged to my parents.” I looked over at her again and she just nodded, encouraging me to tell her more. “They worked so fucking hard and still had nothing left at the end of every month. I knew I wanted more than that, but I also understood it wasn’t going to fall from the Indiana sky.”

“So, you didn’t go to college?”

I shook my head. “Like I said, I was impatient. I wanted to get on with life, so I arrived in New York with like ninety cents in my pocket and got a job in the post room at an investment bank and used to listen in to telephone calls and the traders. I figured I’d learn as I went along.” I’d wanted to be just like those guys on the trading floor. They smelled of money.

“So when did the acting thing happen?” She sounded genuinely interested, as if she hadn’t heard this story before even though it was all over the internet. It surprised me. I had expected her to Google me—most women wouldn’t have been able to help themselves—but now I wondered if Lana had stopped after she’d satisfied her curiosity about my relationship with Audrey.

“Modelling came first. I was approached in a nightclub and it was extra cash so I wasn’t about to pass that up. After that, things happened really quickly. The money was good and people seemed to like booking me. I never looked back.”

“So what didn’t fall from the Indiana sky rained down in New York instead?”

I got that response a lot, especially in the beginning, and I understood that it sounded as though I’d had an easy ride but little came easily in life.

“What’s that phrase? Something like ‘the harder I work, the luckier I get.’” I drummed my thumbs on the steering wheel. “When I got signed, I spent hours with my agent, pumping her for information about the industry—what made a successful model. Why some just faded away, where was the money being made. You make it as a model when you land a big campaign—an aftershave ad or become the face of Calvin Klein. It’s the equivalent of getting a franchise in acting. It’s the pinnacle of success. So I figure, that’s what I aim for—I wanted to be the best at what I did. I still do.” That was why I was so focused on getting this fucking franchise, why I couldn’t believe I’d almost fucked it up. I’d been so close to losing everything. “After I got my first paycheck, I bought every magazine I could get my hands on and I studied. I figured out which models were getting campaigns. Which were stuck doing low paid editorial crap but never landed anything big. I worked out why some models were labelled ‘commercial’ and others weren’t.” Those were the guys who made a living but weren’t ever going to break out. I didn’t want to be an also-ran. I could have stayed in Indiana for that. “I made sure I knew everything about every fashion photographer working at that time. I worked out three hours every day. I showed up on time, every time, and I took direction. I learned from the photographers what was good about my body and what I needed to keep hidden. And I booked many jobs so the right people saw my face. So yeah, it was some luck and a lot of hard work.”

She nodded. “I guess I made an assumption. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s always better to be underestimated.”

“I wanted to escape Worthington so badly as a teenager.” She shook her head and smiled. “My best friend and I used to spend hours researching and planning.”

“But you didn’t like New York when you got there?” I asked. I wished I’d hired a driver so I could just keep looking at her instead of having to focus on the road.

She lifted her chin in the direction of the windshield. “There’s just nothing that can quite top a view like that.”

“Wow,” I said as we turned to the right and the sea opened out in front of us.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it? Never fails to take my breath away.”

Her face lit with happiness and her skin glowed. “I know that feeling,” I said. I’d worked with some of the most gorgeous women on the planet but none of them came close to being as breathtaking as the one sitting next to me.

* * *

“Pull in right there,” she said, pointing at the side of the road. We’d been driving a couple of hours and she’d relaxed after I’d talked about the upside of fame, as though she’d understood the fame wasn’t something I chased. We’d talked and laughed about Worthington, LA and Gary. But she’d not mentioned why she’d left New York.

She was funny and clever and the more time I spent with her, the more I wanted time to slow down so the drive lasted forever.

I slowed and turned left up a sandy track. Thank God I’d rented an SUV—my little sports car wouldn’t have handled this terrain well. “Keep going?” I asked her.

“Just beyond the tree. I don’t think you can go any farther.” She leaned toward the windshield, trying to get a better view. After a few yards, we passed the chestnut tree and the track ended. We were surrounded by bushes planted in sand. I put the car in park and turned off the engine. How did she even know this spot was here?

“Let’s go see the ocean,” she said, grabbing the handle of the door. I followed her as she kicked off her sandals and ran between two trees, then disappeared.

“Lana?” I called. I reached the trees and looked down to find her waving up at me from the bottom of a small slope.

“I loved getting lost in these dunes when I was a kid,” she said when I caught up with her.

“You have all the boys chasing you then?” Not much had changed.

“Of course,” she said as I grabbed her hand and squeezed. “You agreed—no PDA.” But she didn’t pull away.

“We’re not in public.” I waved to a seagull flying overhead. “It’s just us and the birds.”

“What about drones?”

I chuckled. “I’m really not that interesting.”

“I was kidding,” she said, squeezing my hand.

We headed up the next dune. As we climbed higher, the sky expanded and the ocean came into view. “Wow.” The breeze lifted Lana’s hair and the strands splayed out behind her as if she were underwater. She looked like some kind of Grecian goddess standing at the top of the dune, looking out into the distance. Fuck, I could imagine starting a war for a girl like her.

She turned and smiled when she caught me staring. Then she was off, running downhill and shouting, “Race you to the bottom!”

Struck still by her joy, I took far too long to catch up. She had time to turn and raise her hands in victory as I reached her, but I didn’t stop, scooping her up and knocking us both back into the sand.

She squealed as I pulled her on top of me. “I haven’t kissed you since Sinclair interrupted us,” I said, brushing my thumb over the peach bloom of her cheek.

She bit her bottom lip and I rolled us over so she was beneath me. I liked it better this way. I got the feeling that if I let her slip out of my grasp for even a second, I’d never see her again. I dipped my head and her sweet breath hit my lips just before I pressed my mouth to hers. I couldn’t help but groan. I’d been waiting for this since she’d left my bed. It was as if there’d been leftover cheesecake in the fridge and I’d been denying myself. But no more.

Her tongue met mine; her little sharp breaths telling me she enjoyed this almost as much as I did. She parted her legs and I ground my crotch against her pussy. I’d had a hard-on whenever I thought about this girl—just touching her was going to drive me to the brink sooner than I’d like.

“You’re so fucking sweet,” I choked out as I pulled away and dove toward her neck, sucking and licking. I wanted to devour her.

“I don’t feel sweet when you kiss me like that.”

I growled. “What do you feel?” I asked, dropping kisses from her neck down to her collarbone and over the top of her breasts. I wanted to strip her naked, place her on all fours and plow into her right there.

“Hot. Sexy. Like you own me.”

“Fuck,” I said, thrusting once, twice, then rolling off.

I pulled her toward me. “You’re going to make me come if I’m not careful.”

“Really?” she asked. “Is that a problem?” Her eyes narrowed as she waited for my answer.

I chuckled. “Not normally. But with you? Fuck, yes.”

She grinned. “So, if I touch you . . .” She reached for my shorts and I caught her hand before she could make contact. The last thing I wanted to do was blow my load after a kiss. I had a reputation to live up to.

“Let’s not find out.” I linked my hands with hers.

“I think that would be a story I could sell to the tabloids.”

I sighed. “Worse has been said about me by much less believable sources.”

“God, I’m sorry. I was kidding.” She pulled away, but I held her tight.

“Don’t be. I made a lot of poor decisions a while back.” I paused. If she didn’t know what a fuckup I’d been, did I want to tell her? I did. I wanted her to see everything—the real me. Because I wanted the same in return. “I got out of control, too much partying, too much booze, too many . . .”

“Women.” It wasn’t a question or a judgement. Just a statement of understanding.

“Yes. A beautiful woman was always my drug of choice. Along with a lot of booze. Apparently, even as a kid, I preferred the company of women. But before I got to Hollywood, I’d always put work first.”

“Did you end up in rehab?” she asked, her hand pressing into my chest as she pushed herself up to look at me.

I shook my head. “Nope. I wasn’t addicted to alcohol. I think I got what I’d been aiming for and then wondered if that’s still what I wanted. The partying was a way of distracting myself. I lost focus, forgot who I was and where I was from.”

“And your focus is back?”

“I remembered I’m my dad’s son. The parties, the women, the false friends all crumble under the scrutiny of my father’s gaze.”

Lana frowned. I guess I wasn’t making much sense.

“He and my mother came to visit me one day, and I’d totally forgotten they were coming. I hadn’t been home for days. When I wasn’t at my house, he turned up on set and I was drunk.” I sucked in a breath. “I saw myself reflected in his disappointment and I didn’t like it. So, that was it.”

“Just like that you turned over a new leaf?”

“More like I went back to my old leaf—driven, focused, hard working.”

She laughed. “Oh, I got it. Hollywood almost seduced you but you escaped her clutches.”

I chuckled. “A little bit.” It was a good way to describe it. I’d been lucky. Many people weren’t.

“You worried you might stumble again?”

I shook my head and pulled her toward me. “I’m really not. Others around me are. Hence Sinclair bursting in to my house unannounced. But I know I’d never go back there. It’s not what I want for my life.

“What about you?” I was desperate to know her deepest secrets. I wanted to know everything. “Are men your drug of choice?”

She sighed. “Not really. I like to avoid drama, complications . . .”

“Life?”

“Just the downside of it.”

“Is that possible?”

“I’ll let you know. Or maybe you’ll let me know.” She twisted her head and rested her chin on my chest. “Life’s pretty peachy for you, no?”

I shrugged. Life was good. But lately, I’d been getting the sense that it wasn’t just the franchise that I wanted. That there must be something that came after that. “I work hard, and as much as I enjoy acting, I know my time is limited. There’s a lot of pressure attached to being the man of the moment—I can’t put a foot wrong because it could all disappear tomorrow. I’m not ready for that yet.”

“Because you love what you do?”

“Because I want to be successful. I see it as a means to an end. I want my family not to have to worry financially. My brothers don’t earn a lot—none of us went to college. I want their kids—and mine if I ever have them—to have college funds and down payments for a first home. Life should be easier for the next generation, you know?”

I glanced down to find her gazing at me as if I were either crazy or fascinating. “Anyway, enough about me. You’ve got me revealing all my secrets. And we’re getting far too serious.”

“I like serious,” she said without missing a beat. “It’s real.”

She was right. Our talks today were the most honest conversations I’d had in a long time. I thought about these things. A lot, while running and when deciding to do one project or another—when agreeing to pretend Audrey Tanner was my girlfriend. But I’d never told anyone what I’d shared with Lana.

“Shall we walk down to the ocean?” she asked, sitting up.

“If you promise to let me kiss you at the water’s edge,” I replied.

She patted my chest. “If there’s no one around, I just might. You sure can kiss, Mr. Movie Star.”

Mr. Movie Star. It rang in my ears. She didn’t mean it to be deferential or to feed my ego. She was teasing me. And that was what I liked about her.

She stood, rearranging her skirt and lifting her hair to feel the breeze on her neck. Lana Kelly didn’t treat me as if I was famous. She didn’t care that I was famous. And she’d heard about my failures and seemed to like me anyway. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d come across a woman like her.

Lana

“This lobster is delicious.” I closed my eyes as I chewed, savoring the sweet seafood that had been included in our beach picnic.

“Well, we are in Maine. What did you expect?” Matt answered.

“And you just made a call and someone delivered the car with the food in the trunk all refrigerated and everything?” Matt had been clear that he couldn’t take any credit for the magnificent spread—there was enough to feed six. It tasted like it was fresh from the sea this morning.

“Another upside to being famous. You want more champagne?”

“You trying to get me drunk?” I held out my glass.

“Will it make you easy?”

I tried to keep my hand steady as I laughed. “I’ve slept with you already, so I think it’s well established I’m easy.”

“I only wish that were true.” He set down the bottle and crawled toward me. “You have a little something”—he licked the corner of my lip—“just there.” He pressed his mouth against mine, and I dropped my champagne glass to wrap my arms around him. He pushed me back onto the sand and covered my body with his.

I wasn’t sure he’d gone ten minutes without kissing me since he’d parked the car, and though I pretended he was such a bore, I loved it. I hadn’t made out like this since high school.

We’d not seen a soul and it felt as if we were in our own private bubble so I hadn’t fought off his kisses.

Matt was nearly a foot taller than me and so hard and muscular, I felt like a doll when he touched me. His hand slid up my thigh. “I want to make you feel so good.”

He found the elastic of my underwear and slipped his hand beneath. I squirmed, trying to wriggle free.

“Hold still. I’m going to make you come.”

I braced my hands on his shoulders. “Matt, no, not here. Anyone could—”

“We haven’t seen a single person since we arrived. I need you to come.” His fingers trailed up my folds and rounded my clit.

My body went weak at his touch. There was no saying no to him. I wanted to feel his fingers, wanted him to lift me higher and higher. Even though we’d only had one night together, I’d missed what he could do to my body.

“Oh yes, baby, I knew you’d be so wet for me.” He abandoned my clit and I gasped at the change of sensation as he smoothed down my slick folds.

How could I be anything else but ready? The way he looked at me when he’d arrived, as if he were imagining me naked . . . I’d half expected him to push me against the wall and fuck me before we’d even gotten into the car. I’d been only slightly relieved that he hadn’t. Was that how all those women who worshipped him from his movies felt?

His fingers circled my entrance, teasing out sensation from every limb, encouraging my pleasure to build and build.

“Matt,” I whispered.

“I love seeing what I do to you move across your face. I love how your body tells me how much it wants me.” He slipped two fingers inside me as far as they would go and rumbled, “You’re so tight, Lana. So desperate.” He thumbed my clit, circling and pumping his fingers in and out as he did.

“I can’t,” I gasped out. “I can’t.”

“Yeah, you can. Let it go. Let me give you what you need.”

As if his words gave me courage to step off a cliff, I tumbled into free fall, arching my back and digging my fingernails into his shoulders.

My body sagged and Matt pulled me on top of him. “You look fucking astonishing when you come. I want to video it and have it play on a loop in my shower.”

I tensed and pushed myself off him. “Hey,” he said, trying unsuccessfully to pull me back. I sat, drawing my knees up to my chin. “Are you okay?” he asked, settling next to me and smoothing his hand over my back.

“No videos. No photographs. Not ever,” I said, staring at my toes poking into the sand. The image that Bobby had plastered around campus flashed in front of me every time I blinked. “I don’t do that.”

“Okay, I’m sorry.”

“I think we should leave.” I started to stand but Matt pulled me back into his lap. “Let me go.”

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”

I sat, stock-still, but desperate to run away. But I didn’t. Couldn’t. I wanted to feel the heat of his body more than I wanted to escape.

“I had an ex who took my photo. It ended badly,” I said eventually.

Matt brought his arms around my waist and pulled me closer. I took a deep breath, then exhaled, my body molding to his.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into my ear.

I hadn’t given him any details, but it was almost like he was saying no matter what had happened, he was in my corner. I wanted Matt to know that I trusted him.

“When I broke up with him, he plastered pictures of me, naked, all around campus, sent them on email to the whole school. It was just . . . the worst thing that he could have done. It was such a violation.” I took a deep breath, which evened out my pulse. “Ruby was amazing. She tore them down and sat with me while I cried.” I paused, enjoying the heat of Matt’s arms around me. “I never went back to class. I couldn’t face it. Couldn’t see all those people who’d seen such intimate pictures of me. It was . . . difficult.”

I uncrossed my arms and placed them over his as he burrowed his face into my neck. “I’m so sorry. If I ever meet the weak little asshole, I swear I’ll kill him.” He pulled me closer.

“It was a long time ago.” Five years was a lifetime, but every now and then, like now, it didn’t feel that way.

“But not so long ago that it doesn’t still bother you.”

He was right. The memories of that afternoon were as fresh as ever today. As long as I boxed them up and shut them out it was fine, but even the smallest crack would have them back—bright and vivid.

“Is that why you don’t like the city?”

“I love Worthington. Of course, like you I dreamed of leaving but, you know, you gotta be careful what you wish for.”

“God, Lana, I want to make it better for you,” he said, and I twisted in his lap to look up at him.

I smoothed my palm over the rough stubble on his jaw. “Holding me like this is good.” I couldn’t remember a time since my dad died when I felt so protected.

“Then we’ll stay here all night.”

I laughed. “It’s not that good. I like my bed a lot.”

“I can’t wait to see what’s so great about it.”

I slapped him on the back of his hand. “Easy, Mr. Movie Star.”

“Admit it. You’re counting down the minutes until you can get me naked.” He stood us up, holding me against him. “But not in public. You value your privacy. I get that now. I’m not going to put that at risk. Let’s go home.”

I smoothed my hand over his jaw. Wasn’t he supposed to have the world at his feet? Have everything he’d ever wanted with the snap of his fingers? And yet here he was, comforting me, worrying about me. It seemed that Matt Easton was exactly what I needed in my life right in that moment.