31
“This is amazing!”
Marc smiled at me. A real, genuine smile that formed little creases around his eyes and did funny things to my stomach.
He grabbed my hand. “I’m glad.”
We could barely hear each other. The Red Hot Chili Peppers had just finished a song and the cheers from the crowd were deafening.
“This one’s for you, California!” Anthony, the lead singer, called out.
Another wave of cheers washed over us and I laughed, buoyed by the vibe from the audience. It felt so good to laugh. And I needed to do more of this. ‘This’ being living life and doing things I enjoyed instead of working like a woman possessed.
“Come here.” Marc caught me around the waist and pulled me to him so my back was against his chest.
We’d been allowed to watch the concert from offstage. It didn’t quite have the same effect as being out in the huge arena, but my security team was happier with this arrangement. It also limited our exposure to the media, and this way the Chili Peppers were so close I could almost reach out and touch them.
The first bars of Californication echoed around us and it seemed appropriate. As messed-up as LA could be, it was my home.
I twisted in Marc’s arms and pressed my lips to his. It was a thank you and a lot more than that, too.
“Hey.” He brushed my hair back and held my face in his hands. “Are those tears?”
I blinked them away. “I’m fine.”
He kissed me so hard I was almost lifted off my feet, then he drew back, pressing his lips to my ear so I could hear him without shouting.
“No more fine. Do you hear me? No acting. Just tell it to me like it is. I can handle it.”
I indulged myself and rested my cheek on his for a moment, then moved back so he could see me.
“I’m happy, Marc. For the first time in a long time, I’m really happy.”
He wiped away a stray tear with his thumb, then his lips were on mine again. I lost myself to him and the beat that pounded through us, my head filled with dreams of Californication.
*
We were both quiet on the way home. I was equal parts content and unsettled, if that was possible. Content because I’d enjoyed myself, and unsettled because the possibility of experiencing more of what Marc had offered me the other day was making me feel giddy.
As if he sensed my mood, Marc kept glancing over at me, and halfway through the journey he rested his hand on my leg. Heat spread from my fingers to my toes and the giddiness turned to a rush of desire.
I didn’t speak the rest of the way, but that was something I liked about being with Marc. I didn’t need to.
When he pulled up in front of the house, he killed the motor and turned off the lights. The security detail that had been escorting us drove past and parked at the far side of the garage.
We waited while the two men got out and disappeared into the garage, then we continued to sit there in the darkness. It was so quiet I could hear the steady sound of his breathing. The way my heart was pounding I wondered if he could hear it, too.
“I’ll walk you in.”
I didn’t wait for him to come around and open the door. I grabbed my purse and marched to the front steps. My key was already in the lock when he joined me.
“Wait.” He put an arm in front of me to prevent me from going in. Then he raised a hand and waved to the camera discreetly installed in the eaves.
A second later his cell phone rang. Obviously it was the guys stationed in the garage. After a short conversation, he finished the call and lowered his arm. “We’re good.”
I sighed and walked down the hallway, my earlier anticipation evaporating. I was back to the real world now. Well, my real world, anyway.
I went to the kitchen and flicked on the kettle. I needed a cup of herbal tea to settle my mixed-up emotions. Marc followed behind and watched me while I dropped a teabag into the mug and poured the steaming hot water. I didn’t offer him one.
It was only when I brought the mug to my lips that he spoke.
“What’s pissed you off?”
“Nothing.”
He grimaced, and I remembered my earlier promise to be open with him.
I sighed. “Just all the security. It’s so tiring. I feel like I’m living my life constantly on camera.”
“I thought you didn’t mind that.”
I shot him a dark look and I saw him hide a grin.
“It’s not funny.”
“No, it’s not.” His grin faded. “Your bedroom isn’t on camera.”
I wasn’t sure if he’d meant it that way, but the room suddenly felt powered by an invisible charge.
I put the mug on the counter. “I thought you were only going to walk me in.”
“I didn’t want to make any assumptions.”
“That didn’t stop you in the library.”
His eyes turned dark. “I couldn’t help myself.”
I walked around to stand in front of him. “Well, maybe I can’t either.”
Still holding his gaze I ran a hand over the hard contours of his chest, across his abs and stopped just above his waist.
“What happens if we turn the lights off? Can they see us?”
“Yes.”
“For God’s sake,” I muttered. “Bedroom. Now.” His eyebrows rose and I shoved him gently so that he was forced to turn around. I put both hands on his hips and pushed him toward the hall.
He chuckled and I glared at his annoyingly attractive back.
“It’s not funny.”
He raised his hands as I guided him along. “I didn’t say anything.”
When we entered the bedroom, I left the lights off. While the cameras in here were switched off unless there was an emergency, the floor to ceiling windows let in plenty of moonlight.
I closed the door behind me then grabbed his hips before he could walk away. His amusement didn’t last long when I pressed him against the back of the door and started undoing his belt buckle.
He watched me in silence, his eyes dark with desire.
Good. He felt it, too.
The buckle came free with a loud metallic clink. Not breaking our gaze, I slipped my hands into his jeans then beneath his underwear, and gripped his backside as I pressed myself against him. Marc released a shuddering breath and pressed his forehead to mine.
With a satisfied smile, I ducked my head and made slow, delicious work of pushing his jeans down his legs. He kicked them out of the way when they hit the floor.
I placed my hands inside his pants again then brought one around to cup him. The hardness of him pressed against my palm and he let out a quiet groan.
That was the only sign I needed. I pushed his jocks down roughly. No teasing this time.
“Lena,” he whispered as I crouched in front of him.
I held him with my hand and circled my thumb over the tip.
He groaned louder this time. I smiled and ran my tongue along the length then slipped him into my mouth.
God, this was better than I’d imagined. I knew I’d wanted to do this ever since the library, but I hadn’t anticipated the surge of pleasure I’d experience seeing him like this.
I kept my eyes on him and enjoyed watching his control falter. He rested his hands on my shoulders and soon he was holding them firm as I increased the pace. His head fell back against the door and I saw him swallow, once, twice, squeezing his eyes shut like what I was doing was too much. Like I was too much.
“Stop.” His voice was hoarse.
I slowed and gave him a questioning look.
“If you go for much longer it’ll all be over. I want you, Lena.”
I eased back. “I want you too.”
“Then let me see you.”
I stood up and slipped my T-shirt over my head and dropped it to the floor. Tonight we’d both worn jeans. I removed mine and added them to the pile, standing in front of him in only my bra and panties.
I walked back over to him and slipped my hands underneath the shirt he was wearing, then helped him push it over his head. I barely noticed the way his eyes were roaming my body because mine were doing the same.
“Come here.”
Then his hands were undoing my bra, pushing my panties off, and we were skin on skin but it still wasn’t enough. There was nothing calm or measured anymore, only longing and need, and the desperate hunger to be close to each other.
“Hang on.” He reached down and grabbed his jeans and pulled out a small packet from his back pocket.
I waited while he rolled the condom on, then returned to his arms. His lips brushed my good shoulder, sucked, bit, tasted. One of his hands cupped my breast, his thumb grazing my nipple and making me shiver.
“Marc. Please.”
“Please what?” His dark eyes danced with mischief but there was barely concealed need there too.
“You know what.”
I grabbed his hands and pulled him toward the bed. When my legs hit the edge of the mattress I fell back and lay there looking up at him.
He put a hand on his hip, drawing my gaze to the toned abs and powerful muscles in his thighs, then lower still to his obvious arousal for me. I felt my mouth go dry.
“So you’re just going to lie there, are you? Is that a movie star thing?”
A bubble of surprised laughter erupted from me. I loved that he could make me laugh as well as want him at the same time.
“Trust me. I won’t be lying here. Now get over here.”
His gaze darkened and he climbed on top of me, easing into me while his eyes stayed locked on me. When he filled me, we both released a gasp and rocked together.
It still wasn’t close enough.
I tipped my hips upward, meeting his slow thrust, and he groaned. I reached up and put my arms around his neck, holding on, inviting him deeper.
“Damn it, Lena.”
“Good?”
“Too good.”
With a grunt of frustration, he let go of me and lay down beside me. “Climb on.”
“Who made you the boss?” But I did as he said.
He gripped my hips as I lowered myself onto him and I shuddered at the delicious sensation of being filled by him. I started moving, long, steady strokes, and every time I did, I took him deeper.
His eyes were black in the dim light, watching me rock back and forth. I felt powerful when I was above him like this, as though I was some sort of goddess, and there was something challenging in his penetrating gaze.
This time when I came down on top of him he lifted his hips to meet me and I writhed over him, only barely able to stay sitting up. I thrust a hand onto his chest to hold myself up. His strong muscles were firm beneath my hand, also challenging me to push harder, to go deeper.
“That’s it, Princess.”
I let my head roll back so I was staring at the ceiling and we moved together, harder, faster. It was as though he wanted me to wring every last drop of pleasure from his body and I was powerless to stop myself. I needed what he had to give and was enjoying taking it from him.
The pleasure built and it became too much. It was so exquisite it hurt. Instinctively, I tried to move away, slow down, recover, but he wasn’t having any of it. His fingers dug into my hips and he increased our rhythm, meeting me stroke for stroke, making me ride him until I was senseless and tingling all over.
I felt the slow burn deep inside me, building, building, hotter and more intense with every thrust and I didn’t want to stop anymore. I took what he gave me, moving on top of him in greedy sweeps. He released his hands and a palm caught my breast and I leaned into it, milking the pleasure from his touch. Then his other hand found me wet and hot, and his fingers were on me, sure, certain, determined.
It was too much. In a rush of heat, the orgasm rocked my body, momentarily blinding and stunning me.
I cried out his name and he growled beneath me, his eyes flashing with intent. He grabbed my hips again and thrust into me. Once, twice, three times and I felt his release deep inside me. I clenched myself around him taking everything he was willing to give.
I collapsed on top of him, tremors running through me. He ran his fingers through my hair as I pressed my cheek against the salty sweet taste of the perspiration on his chest. Our bodies were slick with sweat but I didn’t care.
Who was this man who had ignited this hunger in me? I’d been greedy and demanding, and it wasn’t something I was used to. In the past, lovemaking had been more pleasant than pleasurable, sweet instead of hot.
Making love to Marc was intense in a way I’d never experienced and I wasn’t sure I could ever get enough.
“Hey, Princess.”
I smiled at the satisfaction in his deep voice.
“Hey.”
“OK?”
“OK.”
We lay there in silence for a few minutes until I found the courage to say what was on my mind.
“I wasn’t too selfish?”
His fingers untangled themselves from my hair and he eased back to look at me. “Selfish? What are you talking about?”
I suddenly felt shy. “I’ve never . . . been like that before.” At his questioning look, I sighed. “I felt like I was using you for my own pleasure.”
His deep laughter echoed around the room and my stomach tightened in response.
“Princess.” He trailed a hand down my back to rest on the curve of my hip. “Use me all you like. As far as I’m concerned, I’ll happily be your plaything.”
“I just thought you’d like to be in control.”
His smile was lazy. “When it comes to you, Lena, there is no control. I’ve got to say, I kind of like it.”
I bit my lip and brushed my fingers against the roughness of his cheek. “Me too.”