“Your turn,” Seth said against Heather’s mouth, his fingers stroking the skin just above the top of her jeans.

She kissed him once more, then pulled away, moving out of his arms. For half a second he wondered if she was freaking out again, but then she smiled. “Don’t worry about it, tool boy.”

“I’m not worried. I want to.” And, man, did he. Watching Heather come—there was nothing like it. “And tool boy? I assure you, I’m no boy.”

“Oh, I know.” He could hear the grin in her voice, even though she faced away. “But, really. It’s not necessary. It’s good for me to do something unselfish every now and then.”

“Well, that’s certainly true.”

She peered over her shoulder with narrowed eyes. “Ha ha.”

“But trust me when I say that going down on you is not a chore.”

Her cheeks colored. “Good to know.”

He followed her to the set’s living room, planting himself in a doorway as he watched her mosey around the space. She wandered to the back of the couch and trailed her hand along the back of the furniture piece. “You know,” she said, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, “another week and we won’t need condoms. Assuming you’re clean.”

“I am.” He missed her touch already, but what she was saying made up for its absence. He strode toward her, stopping at the end of the sofa. “So we’re planning to have sex again?”

She shrugged. “I’m just saying that if we did then we’d be safe.” She circled the other end of the couch to face him. “Of course, first I’m going to have my period, so we’d have to wait past that.”

“I’m not afraid of blood.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

He hated having the couch between them, but even more than the physical barrier, he hated the unspoken circumstances of their last sexual encounter. It had to be cleared up before they could move on. Otherwise, he’d be walking on eggshells with her. And he was not a walking on eggshells type. “And if we did end up fucking again, how can I be sure you aren’t going to freak out?”

“How can I be sure you aren’t going to jump in bed with Bobblehead?”

His brow furrowed. “Bobblehead?” She had to be talking about her costar. Bobblehead actually fit the eager-to-please star. To be sure, he asked, “You mean Natalia?” There was that jealous blaze in Heather’s features again. It warmed him to see it, but he couldn’t stand that Heather thought that the little wisp of an actress had anything on her. There was no one that compared to her. Certainly not for him. “Let me assure you, I have zero interest in Nat.”

“Nat,” she said under her breath like a curse word. “You were sure giving her your attention. And not just tonight.”

She’d been watching him. Good. Yes, he’d spent time with Natalia the last several days, but it was always her who had sought him out. He didn’t give her any reason not to, though. Maybe he’d been trying to stir Heather up.

He repeated his last words. “Zero interest in Nat.” She scowled, not satisfied. “Would you be happier if I told that to her?”

“I would.”

“Done.” He was making a commitment to her with that agreement. Normally that would have his stomach churning. Instead, he felt oddly relaxed.

But he wasn’t the only one who needed to give assurances. She hadn’t yet answered his question. “Are you going to freak out on me again?”

She shifted from one foot to another. “I don’t know.” She turned away, this time going to examine the prop photos on the wall. “I’m not sure myself, really. But I don’t think I will. Did you always want to be a carpenter?” Her voice lilted up with the abrupt subject change. “Or work on movies?”

“Not exactly. And yes.” He didn’t want to talk about that. First of all, it reminded him he was lying to her. Second, the topic she was avoiding was the one that interested him. “Maybe it would help if you told me what set you off. When you freaked out, I mean.”

“Maybe.” But she jumped right back to the lighter conversation. Lighter for her, anyway. “Then if not a carpenter, what would you want to do?”

“Design.” He tried not to flinch as he said it, barreling into his next question for her. “Was it the sex itself?” He hoped not. Just remembering her bent over her dining table as he pounded into her made him hard again.

“No, it wasn’t the sex. Design? Like set design?”

“Production Design.” This was his opportunity. He could tell her the truth—that he already worked in design, that he was good at it. It was understandable that he hadn’t said anything before. He’d tell her he hadn’t wanted the cast of the plays to know. And then it just never came up. He could say he took the job on her film simply as a favor to a friend. He could even tell her that part of the appeal was that she’d be there.

But even though they’d jumped some hurdles in their relationship, or whatever it was they had, he remembered why he lied in the first place. Because he wanted her to want him even if he was the person that she thought he was—a set carpenter. Because that’s who he used to be. That’s where he came from. And he was proud of that. If she couldn’t accept him as that guy, then there was no future between them, just like there had been no future with him and Erica.

Huh. That was weird. He hadn’t been thinking about Heather in terms of long lasting, but now that he had, it sounded right. He wanted a future with her.

So he let the opportunity pass and turned the truth time back on her. “Did it bother you that we barely know each other?”

“Not that.” She shook her head to emphasize her answer. “Production Design’s pretty ambi—”

“Then the spanking,” he interrupted, focused on getting to the bottom of her freak-out. Focused on not discussing what he did for a living.

She took a deep breath in and then let it out.

Bingo. It was the spanking that had bothered her. “You liked it though—your body did, anyway.” He took a step toward her and stopped when she took a step away. “But not your head. What’s up with your head, Heather?”

“It’s just…” She lowered her eyes. “I can’t. Seriously, I can’t talk about this.”

He wanted to push her. Partly because he thought he understood, but also because he was pretty certain she’d feel better if she talked about it.

But after all the progress they’d made, he wasn’t ready to scare her off. Instead he asked, “So if I were to spank you again…?”

She turned toward him, a shy smile spreading across her face. “I would like it.” Then her smile faded. “Are you planning to spank me now?”

“No,” he laughed. But now that she’d mentioned it, he was sorely tempted. “You probably deserve it. For being a bitch last time and not talking to me about what was really going on.”

“I suppose I had that coming.” She met his eyes, holding his gaze with such steadiness he wondered what she saw when she looked at him. A guy who worked with his hands. Who didn’t measure up. Who didn’t fit the mold of her perfect fairytale life.

Or maybe she saw what he hoped she could see. A like soul. Someone who made her face her bullshit, but didn’t leave her alone to do it. A guy who could take care of her but never make her feel weak while doing it.

Or could she see the guy who was keeping secrets from her while demanding she be open about hers?

Without any warning, she moved to him, burying her head into his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Seth. This is hard for me.”

He wrapped his arms around her, running his fingers through her tresses. Any doubts he had about keeping his secrets vanished in that instant. She was opening up to him in a way that he suspected she wouldn’t have if his supposed status hadn’t forced her to. Though he wasn’t an advocate for lying, he felt justified.

Well, mostly justified.

Maybe his doubts hadn’t completely vanished after all.

He couldn’t think about that, couldn’t dwell on his guilt. He had to stay centered on her, helping her through her issues. “I’m sorry it’s so hard for you. I think I can understand.”

“You can?” Her voice was muffled in the fabric of his T-shirt. How much of a girl would he be if he said this was his new favorite shirt?

“Yeah, I understand.” He spoke carefully, voicing his suspicions. “The spanking makes you feel…dirty.”

Her head nodded into his chest.

“And slutty?”

“Yeah,” she said, her voice choked.

He kissed her temple. “Especially because you like it.”

“Yeah.”

Gripping her gently by the upper arms, he pushed her away just enough that he could bend to look at her directly. Her eyes were brimming with tears. He’d hit the nail on the head. Even though he’d suspected, it wrenched his gut to see her so uncomfortable with herself. With who she was. Why was it always the women who exuded the most confidence who were the most fragile inside? “But it doesn’t make you either of those things, you know.”

She lowered her head and he squeezed her arms. “Heather? You know that, right?”

This time she met his gaze. “I know. Well, I’m starting to know.”

“Keep going in that direction.” He cupped her chin with his hand and ran his thumb over her cheek. “And if you feel uncomfortable, talk to me.”

“But we don’t really talk about anything. We fight. And make out.” Her teeth grazed her lower lip. “Not that I’m complaining.”

“We’re talking now.”

“So we are.” She dabbed at the corner of her eye. “It’s kind of nice.”

“It’s a whole lot nice.”

She stepped out of his arms, refusing to meet his eyes, and he could sense she felt awkward about the emotions she’d displayed. “Can I ask you something? While we’re talking and all.” Or maybe she felt awkward about what she had to say next.

“Shoot.”

“The, uh, spanking and stuff.” She crossed behind the armchair before turning to face him, leaning on the chair back as if she needed the support. “Are you, like, a Dominant?”

So she’d been doing some research. Interesting. “I like to dominate. But I’m not a Dominant.” Not that he’d ever tried it, but it seemed like too much work and planning. He was more for the impulsive. “I don’t go to sex clubs or any of that crap either.”

“Then you aren’t expecting me to, um, you know, wear a collar and kneel in front of you and let you tie me up while you whip me and stuff?”

“Well, you’ve already knelt in front of me of your own accord.” He loved that he could make her blush so easily. “And tying you up sounds like a whole helluva lot of fun. But no, I’m not into the collars or whips or chains or any of that Mistress/Sir shit. I like to be in charge. And I like it rough.” He gave her a sly smile. “I’m willing to try new things if that’s what you’re into though.”

“No!” She nearly jumped with her emphatic denial. Her color deepened, and when she spoke again, she was calmer. “No, that’s okay. I just wanted to know what I was in for. If we had sex again, I mean.”

“Oh, we will.” He didn’t think she could blush any further but apparently she could. Damn, she looked good all pink. He needed to touch her. Crossing to her, he held out his hand. She took it, surprisingly, and he led her to the couch where he sat before pulling her next to him.

His arm around her, she leaned into him. It was instantly comfortable and easy. He played with her hair, wrapping it around his fingers and releasing it again. “What about you? How do you like your sex?”

“I’m not really sure anymore. I’ve never been a prude. I mean, I’ve always liked sex. But I was raised to believe…” She paused and he could hear her swallow. “My father acted like kissing guys made me a whore. It put a damper on a lot of my sexual experiences because there’s always this guilt thing hanging over me.”

No wonder the spanking had bothered her. “That’s tough.”

“Yeah. It is. The sex itself hasn’t always been as fulfilling as it could have been. I’ve never experimented because of the guilt. Always stuck to the basics.”

He wondered briefly what basic meant. Like, missionary only? But she’d moved on before he could ask.

“And the guys I’ve been with have been…” He grimaced at the thought of her with other men. “I don’t know…gentle. Overly gentle. As if I needed to be served or adored or whatever.”

“They treated you like a princess?” He chuckled.

“Don’t even…” She sighed. “Yes.” Lifting her head to look at him, she said, “Now you’re going to say it’s because I act like a princess so what do I expect, right?”

“Not at all. It’s because you act like a princess that I think you need to be a little bit manhandled.”

“I think you’re right.” She pivoted her body and draped her legs across his lap. This was nice, they could face each other more easily now.

“So then, with me. I know it was only the one time, but was it missing anything?”

“It was. It was missing a proper ending. I shouldn’t have freaked.”

“We’re past that. No worries.” He rubbed his hand up and down her leg, delighting in the goose bumps that rose on her arms. “But before the ending…?”

“It was good, Seth. Really good.”

“Fulfilling?”

“Yeah.” She lowered her eyes. “Though there could have been kissing.” Her eyes lifted again to meet his. “I like kissing.”

“I do too.” They held the gaze for several seconds. And then talking about it wasn’t enough. He had to kiss her. He leaned in toward her and she, understanding, brought her face in to meet his.

Just before their lips met, they heard a sound behind them suggesting the security guard was returning for his next round. It broke the mood.

She shifted out of his arms and stood. “I need to be getting home,” she said. “I have lines to work on. And I should really get in a workout before bed.”

He stood too, stuffing his hands into his pockets so he wouldn’t be tempted to reach out for her. He could give her a workout, and he almost said as much, suspecting she might even want an invitation not to complete her to-do list. But even though they’d been talking about sex, the current conversation seemed quite different from their usual naughty flirtation.

He had another idea now. Rocking back and forth from the balls of his feet to his heels, he wondered if he should just say goodnight or run with the wild hair he’d gotten up his ass.

The wild hair won. “Would you want to do this again sometime? The talking without belittling each other.”

Heather tilted her head. “Like, a date?”

“Yeah. I suppose that’s what it’s called.”

Big brown chocolate eyes branded him. The way she stared at him—stared into him—it was like getting a tattoo with all the same burn but also a whole lot of euphoria. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had that effect on him. Was that why he was so crazy over her? Taking a job several steps below his skill level, lying and hiding the truth. Practically stalking. He didn’t deserve to have anything with her let alone what they’d shared, but he couldn’t stop himself from wanting more.

Heather took a deep breath. “Can I think about it?”

Well, he shouldn’t have expected anything else. She needed time to deal with her conflicting emotions. It had taken her ten days to seek him out after they’d had sex in her trailer, after all. He could give her time. “I hate that you have to. But I suppose you can.”

His eyes didn’t leave her. He couldn’t stop staring—she grew more beautiful the longer he looked. He couldn’t have designed a more enchanting specimen if he spent his life trying.

She blushed under his gaze. “What?”

There was only one thing he wanted at that moment. “Can I kiss you?”

“That seems so weird for you to ask after…everything.”

“Well, it seems we’re on new ground. I’m not sure what the rules are here.” He felt like a teenager. Awkward and horny.

“Me neither.” She lifted her head up. “But yes, you can kiss me.”

He leaned in slowly, taking his time. When his lips met hers, they moved together without destination, without need to get off. It was like a first kiss. Tender. Deep. Sweet.

“Goodnight, princess.” He’d started her nickname as a way to mock her snootiness. But this time when he said it, he meant it as a term of endearment.

He watched her as she walked off the set toward the parking lot, his chest aching with each step she took.

Chest aching? Term of endearment? Was he falling for Heather Wainwright?

Aw, shit.

* * *

He’d asked her on a date. Seriously? Heather didn’t date. Dates were too difficult— paparazzi and fans fawning over her. They wouldn’t have any privacy. All the media outlets would purport them as an item. Was she ready for that? To be paired with Seth in front of the whole world?

No, she wasn’t.

But she wanted to get to know Seth better. And wasn’t that what dating was supposed to be about? Figuring out if you wanted to be with someone. Getting to know them before you had to make those decisions. It wasn’t fair that her life didn’t allow her that simple cultural norm.

She chewed her bottom lip as she climbed into her trailer. After shooting a text to Lexie, telling her she was ready to be picked up, she curled up on her couch with her script to work on her lines.

But she couldn’t focus, her mind still on Seth. She could have stayed with him while she waited for Lexie. He might have even offered her a ride. More than one kind of ride. The thought sent a shiver down her spine. She was already so needy and turned on. Maybe she should have let him get her off after all.

Except she needed to take this slow. Well, slower.

As she’d told Lexie she would, she’d researched about sex and spanking, learning a lot that had opened her eyes. Wide. She wasn’t so ignorant to not know about the whole Dominant/submissive world and the punishments that went with it, but that had never interested her. Still didn’t. Beyond that, she’d thought spanking was abuse. That the men who spanked their women during sex were the same assholes who got 911’d for beating on their wives. She’d seen a lot of that in the trailers—poverty could turn people to their worst selves. It drove some to drink like her mom. Some it drove to drugs like her dad. Some it drove to be just plain mean like half the people in her park.

But when she’d read the websites Lexie had given her, and then Googled sex and spanking and found hundreds of articles about regular, everyday couples having rough sex all the time, she had to swallow her pride and admit she was uniformed with a capital U. She’d always been into hair-pulling and nail-clawing, but she’d never dared to push that further. And, apparently, the men she’d been with didn’t either. Seemed that her always being in control had some serious downfalls. Like never getting to learn new things. New things that could possibly be enjoyable.

So now she was intrigued. She wanted to explore this recent discovery. She wanted to explore it with Seth. But she was still timid about it, and that’s why she’d let her evening with him end. Besides, she’d liked the note they’d ended on.

With him asking for a date.

She lay back with a sigh, her script open against her chest. A date wasn’t impossible. It would take careful planning to ensure they kept it under the radar. They’d have to meet somewhere. Somewhere discreet. She wouldn’t want to don a disguise. Somehow disguises always seemed to attract more attention. But if she put enough energy into it, she could think of a place that wouldn’t require that level of hiding. A simple excursion. Maybe a picnic at a park. Or hiking.

Or she could just let Seth handle the planning. That was how dates usually went, after all. The one who did the asking made the arrangements. Could she trust him to manage the details required to maintain discretion?

If she couldn’t, then there was no point pursuing a relationship with him.

A relationship with Seth.

My, but she liked the sound of that.