Chapter Three
My heart slams in my chest, and I almost take a step toward him. I want Jamie Donovan to play with me. God, do I want him.
I curl my hands into balls and try to get a grip.
Our eyes meet, and I know he can tell how turned on I am. There’s so much heat between us, it’s seriously overwhelming. I keep telling myself it’s lust. That’s all it is. It’s a chemical reaction. I can’t forget what he is. Or what he did to me.
I lift my chin and take a moment before I go there.
“All right Jamie,” I say evenly. “You want to do this?”
“I want to do this.” His voice is low and husky, and it makes me even wetter.
“Let’s just call a spade a spade,” I manage to say coolly.
He eyes me intently. “What else would the spade be called?” His voice sounds cautious.
“Cheater.” My voice rings loud and clear. “The spade would be called ‘cheater.’”
Jamie looks genuinely confused. He peers around the room like he’s on a hidden camera show. Finally, his gaze meets mine, and the reaction is not one I expect.
“When and with whom?” He sounds genuinely pissed off, but I know it has to be a ploy.
“Just stop. You were caught.” I hold up my hand like I’m in the FBI. “People saw you. There were multiple witnesses.”
Tony was the only witness to tell me about it, but there were for sure many people at the popular, power-lunch restaurant who were there to see what he did. So it’s kind of the same thing… Okay, fine. Maybe it’s a bit of a stretch, but still.
“You need to relax, Nancy Drew.” Jamie looks like he’s getting angrier by the second. “I think the CSI crime team still needs to investigate the matter.”
I shake my head at him. “I need to relax?” I ask mockingly.
“Yes, you do,” he says forcefully. “And what exactly was I doing according to these multiple witnesses?”
“Kissing Stacy Tennison.” When I say it out loud, it sounds like the title of a bad young adult novel. It sounds foolish, and I’m suddenly furious—like want to strangle him furious.
He’s making me feel immature and… lame. As though I misjudged the entire situation. There is no way I did. At least, I don’t think I did? Tony saw it firsthand, and he’s a guy, not some emotional woman quick to jump to a shit conclusion. I meet Jamie’s gaze.
Jamie’s looking at me like I’m speaking Swahili. I let him sit with it. Hopefully he’ll choke on it.
“Well, as fun as this has all been”—I motion around the room—“I think it’s time for me to leave.” I hope to God he can’t see how hurt I am. I try to walk away.
His hand snakes out and grabs hold of my arm. I feel a jolt of electric energy move through my body, and I can’t stop the gasp. I know he hears me. I look over at him and meet his smoldering gaze. I take in a shaky breath and do my best to pretend I don’t care, like his touch doesn’t affect me.
“I didn’t kiss Stacy Tennison.” His voice is matter of fact.
“Come. On.” I scoff and roll my eyes. “You must think I’m some young, naïve—”
“She kissed me.”
His words take the wind out of my sails. I can’t believe he just said that. He’s admitting there was a definite mouth-to-mouth situation going on. I take a second to digest his words and what he’s implying and how I might have been wrong, but then the fact of the matter is—
“You still kissed her.”
“There’s a significant difference.” Jamie shakes his finger at me, like he’s a parent ready to send me to time out.
“Nice. Try,” I hiss.
He looks like he wants to strangle me again. “It’s the truth, Wylder.” Jamie’s stare is intense. “I don’t lie.”
The way he says it makes me want to believe him. I really do, but I know better. It’s that face and body of his that are clouding my vision.
“Yes, I went out on a few dates with Stacy,” Jamie says, continuing to admit to the rumors. “But that was over a year ago.”
“Then it’s nice to hear you two are still so close,” I smirk, “and intimate.”
I hear him swear softly before pulling me into his taut body. He runs his hand through my hair and gently yanks it back, so I’m forced to stare up into his impossibly handsome face.
“I’m not lying.” His voice is hard, just like the rest of him. Oh God is he hard. I try to move away from his erection, but he won’t let me. He holds me nice and close, enough to drive me wild.
“I don’t think you’re lying. I believe when you say you dated her,” I manage to say, hoping he’ll let me go so I can run the hell out of there.
“She misread the situation,” Jamie says as his eyes glaze with desire. “She thought I wanted something more. I don’t. I didn’t. But she thought she’d try anyway.”
A nagging feeling begins to take shape in my gut… Is he telling the truth? He kind of looks sincere. No. Fuck. It doesn’t matter. Even if he is telling the truth, he let Stacy kiss him, and that’s not really so much the point as I don’t want what I know will be a complicated relationship with a man who has women throwing themselves at him trying to steal kisses and whatever else they can get their hands on. Just the picture of another woman getting their hands on Jamie’s cock makes my blood boil.
If I was Hugh Jackman’s Wolverine character, the metal blades would start coming out.
One. By. One.
“Can’t really blame her for trying.” Jamie says this with a charming smile.
I’ll kill him.
“You’re looking a little green with jealousy, sweetheart.” Jamie’s eyes glint in satisfaction.
“As if!” I scoff and try to get a grip, act like I don’t care.
His face looms over mine, his lips a breath away. At this moment, my body betrays me and becomes my enemy, deciding to do her own thing. She pushes up into him, so she can feel his hard cock. Then her lips open breathlessly, anxiously… waiting for his to crash into hers.
What the hell is she doing?
Jamie traces the pad of his thumb across my lower lip, his emerald eyes bright with desire and anger—a dangerous combination. It could even get me into trouble. But despite it all, I kind of want to experience it.
“I’ve missed you,” he says to my surprise and what looks like his own, making both my heart and panties melt. “I’ve missed looking into those crazy golden eyes.”
I honestly don’t even know what I want to say. “Jamie—”
He puts his fingers over my mouth, silencing me.
“Why do you have to be so difficult?” He shakes his head in annoyance and narrows his eyes. “You’re not going to talk anymore. Not until I tell you. And you’re going to listen to me. There is nothing between Stacy and me. Nothing. She tried. I stood there, and it was over. That’s it.”
The look on my face must not convince him because he curses under his breath and stares at me with some serious heat shooting out of his eyes.
“Think about it, Wylder,” he says shrewdly. “For two weeks I’ve tried to chase you down to find out why you disappeared on me. If I had really hooked up with Stacy, don’t you think maybe, just maybe, I’d have put two and two together and figure you found out about my affair, considering you work in the same goddamn studio?”
Logical. I’ll give him that.
“I’d like to think you’d give me a little more credit, considering how I kicked your ass on every trivia, brain puzzle, or Head’s Up game we played.” He finishes with an arrogant smile.
“You wish! You did not kick my ass,” I gasp in outrage.
“Wylder. You have never beaten me at anything,” Jamie’s eyes darken into something stormy and wild, something I want to try. “Face the facts, sweetheart. I’ll always win. And I’ll always get my way.”
“I—”
It’s the last word I’m able to get in because Jamie’s mouth finally captures mine. It seems like the last time we kissed was a lifetime ago. My body melts into his. My hands move up on their own accord and encircle his neck until they’re running through his hair, pulling his face toward mine to deepen the kiss. Our tongues meld together, and I moan in longing. I missed his touch. His soft lips. Jamie Donovan knows how to kiss. He knows how to tease you, make you suffer—in a good way. Make you practically come in your soaking wet panties in excitement over the promise of what’s to come. If he can kiss me like this, with this much fire, then oh my… How will he fuck me?
I feel his hard, thick, beautiful cock against my body, and I lose my goddamn mind. I push into him and move my hands down his back.
Fuck it.
I grab hold of his jeans, the top button already undone, and I’m able to pop open another right before Jamie swiftly reacts and lifts my hands away. He picks me up and flips me around, then bends me over the pool table. My chest is lying flat against the table, my ass up for his view, and he’s pressing up against me from behind.
I feel him rustle with his jeans before moving back to me. He pushes his cock against my pussy, teasing me with the incredible, mind-altering fucking that is to come. Luckily because of Kerri, my very own fairy godmother, my dress is so skimpy, all he has to do is slide it up it over the top of my ass and pull down my thong, and he’ll be able to slip his cock right inside. I will it to happen.
And oh my God it does.
It’s all moving so fast. I don’t have to wait. Or beg. He’s filling me completely, his one hand kneading my breast over my dress while his other has my hair wrapped like a vise around his hand as he thrusts into me. I push back, moaning in pleasure, begging for more, begging to take more of him in as he works me from behind.
He leans down over my back. “Who am I?” he whispers roughly against my check and slowly pulls out, teasing me with his tip while I whimper against the table.
“Jamie,” I beg. I try to push myself back, so his cock has no choice but to fill me again, but he doesn’t let me.
He flips me over and pulls my hands over my head, holding me easily in his strong grasp. His fingers trace a line over my lips, and I stare at him with longing. The look in his eyes is more than primal. It’s like he’s staring at something he owns.
“How many?” His voice is raspy and even angrier. His eyes are cloudy with desire.
“How many what?” I whisper back. I don’t understand what his game is. How many times do I want to come? As many as you’ll give me.
“Men have you fucked.” His jaw is tight as he exhales.
That’s the last thing I expect. Is he serious? I gasp in anger and try to close my legs and push away from him, but he takes this moment to thrust himself back inside so deep that I arch my back and scream out in pleasure. Pleasure shoots down my legs.
“How many, Wylder?” Jamie persists relentlessly while he’s leaning down toward my body, letting go of my hands and moving both of his to grab hold of my hips and ass. He grinds into me. The pleasure is almost too much.
I feel my orgasm coming for me, and I’m so ready to take it, but Jamie fucking Donovan pulls out, robbing me of my almost euphoria.
“No!” I grab his ass and try to pull him back.
“How many?”
My gaze meets his. His eyes blaze with such a look of possessive ownership, it takes me aback. I’ve never seen this look before on his face, not this intense. Or raw. I don’t want to answer because it shouldn’t matter one goddamn bit. It shouldn’t.
But then I realize just as it matters for me, it does for him. That changes everything, and my heart cracks open in more than one way.
“Just. You.”
I don’t even have to ask. He thrusts in deep before I can even blink, and I come so fast and hard that I scream his name over and over, until I’m finally able to float back to earth. When I open my eyes and see the look of smug satisfaction on his face, I wish I had stayed up in orgasm heaven a bit longer.
Fine.
I’ll give it to him. Him and that cock of his are pretty epic. I think about the conversation we had right before the incredible sex. Normal adult people talk. His words ring in my mind. It’s so annoying that he’s right.
“So what now?” I know my voice sounds shy, but I can’t help it. I kind of feel like everything has changed again. And in a different way than last time.
“I have a thought.” Jamie’s voice is quiet as he moves a strand of my hair away from my face. His gaze flickers to mine, and he lets me inside. He’s not hiding anything. “We date like normal people. In normal relationships. And we see how it goes.”
My stomach drops. He used the word date, relationship, and “seeing how it goes” in practically the same sentence. No matter my reservations I have, it sounds too damn good to resist—to at least try out for a while.
I mean, look at him. He’s to die for. And he cares—it mattered if I had been with someone else in our break just like it does for me. If he ends up crushing me, at least I’ll have a great story to tell my children. What the hell?
“Exclusively?” I ask after a while.
“You’re not fucking anyone else. If that means we’re exclusive, then so be it.” The look he gives me is so possessive, it practically brands me.
I’ll never admit it to him—or anyone else—but I like it.
“Then the same goes for you.” I try to act cool, but I feel anything but.
He stares at me long and hard before answering. “Hadn’t planned on it,” Jamie says slowly. “But to be honest, it’s what I thought we were doing before your irrational meltdown.”
I astral project out of my body and do a happy dance when I hear his words. “I object to the use of the word irrational,” I say calmly.
“Are you writing a spec for Law & Order or something?” Jamie cocks a curious brow.
I laugh. “You’re funny.”
“You’re hot.”
I melt, then burn or do both simultaneously. I want him. Again. I hope he keeps good on his promise that the pool table was the first of many to come. Instead, to my surprise, he leans down, gives me a quick, chaste kiss on the lips, then moves away from my body and pulls me up and off the table.
His jeans are buttoned in no time, and he runs a hand through his thick hair before he walks to the door and starts to pull it open.
“Where are you going?” I ask in confusion while I finish straightening my dress and smoothing down my hair. I’m sure I still look like I had sex, but that’s the good thing about this place. Everyone else is or also recently had sex.
“We are going,” he says.
“Where?”
“We’re leaving this place.” His answer is cryptic, but I go with it. As long as we’re going someplace to have more make-up sex—because that’s what I’m calling it—I’m down.
He shakes his head in exasperation, walks back to me, and takes hold of my hand. We exit the room and make our way through the club pretty quickly. Jamie signals to one of the concierges who stroll the halls, making sure their VIPs are taken care of. Kerri was the one who let me in on that little secret. A man dressed conservatively in a black suit walks our way, speaks into the Bluetooth device in his ear, and ushers us down a private hall and out two double doors. We enter what I’m assuming is the VIP garage. Kerri and I didn’t come in this way. Both times we’ve been here, we Ubered.
There’s an SUV waiting for us. Jamie opens the car door quickly, and I get inside. The driver doesn’t get out of the car, which at first I find odd but then figure it might be for privacy. In any case, I’m grateful.
We settle in.
The car starts to move, and I watch Jamie connect his iPhone to the Bluetooth, and very quickly, Neil Young’s “Harvest Moon” echoes through the car. I close my eyes in serious ecstasy and try my hardest not to drool when I meet his eyes. Everything about Jamie is just so… cool. To my surprise, he doesn’t sit next to me but across. His legs cradle mine, which is nice and kind of sexy considering the difference between our sizes. He makes me feel very feminine, but I still wish he’d come and hold me.
We’re both quiet for a minute and listen to the song. It’s kind of perfect in a strange way.
Jamie breaks the silence. “So how’s work been?”
I meet his bright gaze, and my heart flutters. Then that sensation—the sensation you get when you’re staring at something that takes your breath away, when you’re staring at something that’s pretty special… That happens, and it’s pretty freaking surreal.
“Fine.” My response sounds nervous, but I can’t help it. I try to cover my unease, but even my next words come out awkwardly. “I saw the announcement today in the trades. Congratulations are in order.”
“Thanks.” He doesn’t sound too thrilled.
He’s officially directing The Origin. The deal was brokered quickly, and the studio gave Jamie everything he asked for, which if rumor is true—and in this town it usually is—were some pretty big, substantial requests. That’s how bad they wanted him. When Tony thought I wasn’t listening, I overheard him tell Kerri the studio bent over and took it in the you-know-where from Jamie’s agents and attorneys.
“You don’t seem too excited.”
He shrugs and gives me one of those cute, sexy smiles—the kind he doesn’t realize are hot. It reminds me of the ones he kept giving the ladies in the audience tonight on the Craig Williamson Show. Oh, I saw everything. I pray I manage to keep my big mouth shut and not let him know I watched and dissected. Did I dissect…
“I am,” he says with a sigh. “It’s just a lot of work and years.”
“Years?”
“It’s a three-year commitment from pre-production to post on both movies and press and all that part of the business I’d rather do without.”
I can hear the tired in his voice just thinking about it.
“It’s a lot. I just tied myself up if anything else comes along I might want to do, and that’s a bit scary too.”
“Do you regret agreeing to do the sequel as well?” I search his gaze.
“No.” Jamie shakes his head. “After I read the book, I understood more. Honestly the script Darren wrote is fucking unbelievable, and it’s going to blow people away. And I only had to read the first fifty of the sequel to know it was excellent, and he’s not done yet. It’s his first draft.”
“I’m surprised he showed you,” I say. Most writers have aversions to showing their directors anything until it’s finished. He must be really confident and sure.
“He wanted me to see where he wanted to take it,” Jamie says. “To get me to come along for the ride.”
“Well, it worked,” I say with a smile, “and seems like it’s going to be quite a ride.”
His eyes pin mine. “The wilder the ride, the more I like it.”
My stomach drops at the double entendre. Jamie’s eyes glint possessively as they roam over my legs.
“And then you’ll hand off the reigns to another director?”
“That’s the plan,” Jamie nods his head as he leans back in the seat. His gaze flickers over my breasts, then mouth, then straight back to my breasts. I shift uncomfortably in my seat.
Jamie continues with a secretive gaze. “But I’m a producer on everything, so I’ll be part of the film franchise in one way or another.” He knows what he’s done to me.
“How many will there be?” I ask, keeping my voice even.
“As long as the movies are making money, they’ll be making the movies,” Jamie says confidently. “But I’m creating a world that can live forever, is multi-dimensional, and the studio can exploit across all platforms, so it’ll go on for a long run.”
“Trust me.” I all but roll my eyes. “You don’t have to tell me that. Popcorn movies are all people watch now—not what they really need to be watching but what they are nonetheless.”
Jamie’s quiet for a moment.
“Shouldn’t you still be stroking my ego?” he scolds.
I’d like to stroke something else. The thought naturally pops in my mind. Just the picture makes me insta-horny. There’s no one else in the car with us, and the glass is blacked out, so why not?
“Do you want me to?” My voice sounds hoarse. My gaze shifts to the impressive bulge in his jeans. He does nothing to hide it; he’s proud and cocksure.
He has every right to be. If there is another life after this one, and I come back as a man, I hope I have a cock like his.
“Later.” Jamie and I lock eyes. “When we’re all alone, I’ll tell you exactly what I want you to do. I have plans.”
I practically lick my lips. I can’t wait to hear all about his plans. I’m in, like 100 percent in. I just need the time and place.
Jamie smiles broadly and gives me a sexy wink. He looks boyish and playful and as appealing as a slice of red velvet cake from The Ivy.
“Let’s place a bet.”
“Why and on what?” I ask quickly.
“For fun,” he says, shaking his head in admonishment. “For you to see how good I am.”
I raise a questioning brow.
“At everything I put my mind to.” He smiles and looks impossibly handsome.
His arrogance is seriously next level.
“I’ll bet on whatever you want I’ll correctly predict the box office winner of the four-day Thanksgiving Day weekend, and not only that, but I’ll be within five million dollars of the gross.”
“You’re seriously the most arrogant person I’ve ever been in contact with.” I shake my head in disbelief. “And why would I want to take this bet? You must think I was born yesterday.”
“Why wouldn’t you take the bet?” Jamie asks questioningly. “I thought you’d love to take the opportunity to prove me wrong. Or are you scared you can’t beat me?”
“Oh, I would totally take this bet, but the Boon comic book movie is opening over Thanksgiving.” I don’t need to remind him. “You and I both know it’s going to kill it, so you’re just betting on a number.”
“I don’t think so,” Jamie says, disagreeing with me. “I think Duff is going to beat it by over a thirty percent margin.”
“You’re insane.” My voice is laced with disbelief. “Duff is about a cult in a small town. No way will it make those kinds of numbers.”
“I’ve got skills.” His smile is sure. “I know things.”
Does he ever. I’ve seen them firsthand, but I know he’s wrong.
“Let’s make a bet on how right I know I am, and how you will be wrong come Thanksgiving.” Jamie leans in toward me in excitement, his gaze searching mine. “Seriously. Let’s bet. Whatever you want.”
“Whatever?” I ask.
“Anything your heart desires.”
I cross my arms and raise a brow. “Even your house?”
That gives Jamie pause, but then he smiles. “If you want my house, Wylder, you’ll have my house,” he says calmly. “If you lose the bet.”
“I don’t want your house.” I say it like it’s the most ridiculous thing in the world. Meanwhile, I totally want his house. Who wouldn’t? I’m not crazy.
“What then?” Jamie asks.
“A plant.” My answer is easy. When he looks at me in surprise, I explain, “I have a thing for plants…”
There is an uncomfortable silence.
“Is there a particular plant you’d like?” His smile is tender, and I’m suddenly embarrassed.
“I’m impartial,” I say.
“And do you have a named picked out for our plant?” Jamie asks. “Don’t think I forgot about Tom, Dick, and Harry.”
I feel myself blush. When he says “our,” I melt and kind of die—like a tiny, little death—because the thought thrills me even though I wish it didn’t excite me so much. But seriously? Imagine sharing a plant with Jamie Donovan.
“Mo,” I admit.
Jamie’s head bobs from side to side as he takes in the name. I can’t tell what he thinks.
“What?” I ask. “Do you think it’ll give her a complex?”
“Her?” He looks surprised. “Well, I don’t know what else you can expect if you plan on naming a she ‘Mo.’”
“It’s short for Mona Lisa,” I say. “And Harry is short for Harriet.”
His gaze meets mine, and we both smile at the same time. He must think I’m completely insane. Well, at least it’s all out in the open now. When I grow up—which means when I make a shit ton of money and can afford whatever I want—I want to have a big greenhouse. I’ve seriously already designed it in my head.
“And if I win?” Jamie asks quietly. “What do I get?”
My gaze meets his.
“What do you want?”
“Easy. Your story. The real one,” Jamie says to my complete surprise. “I want to know why you’ve become such a man-hating hard-ass. I mean, I have my suspicions. One starts with D and ends in Y, but I could be way off.”
I have to tell myself to close my mouth. He says the craziest—God, I missed that smart mouth of his.
“You know what,” I tell him, shaking my head in amusement. “I’m going to be an adult, and I’m not going to engage.”
“But you agree to it?” Jamie won’t be deterred.
There is no way he’s getting this. Duff is going up against a pre-built mega-powerhouse institution with, ironically, a cult following. There is no way. This is my first real Hollywood bet. I need to be confident.
“Wylder?”
“I agree,” I say.
Jamie settles back into his seat and crosses his arms in satisfaction. There is a steely glint in his eye, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he bought out multiple movie theaters so he could win.
Oh my God, he won’t do that, will he?
But then it doesn’t matter because he stares at me in that Jamie Donovan way, and it makes me want to jump him. I wonder why he’s playing so hard to get. He’s not really looking like he wants to talk anymore, so I mentally prepare in excitement for what’s to come: My place or his? I’m relieved it’s the weekend and I get to sleep in and hopefully have a lazy bedroom day with Mr. Donovan.
When the SUV makes the turn off Laurel Canyon, I’m not surprised to see it’s my place because I am much closer to downtown, where the club is located. The car pulls up to the house, and Jamie quickly exits to help me out. He shuts the door and follows me up the walkway, but the car stays put. I’m confused.
I full well expect him to come inside the house with me, but instead, he pulls me into his arms and kisses me until I’m breathless and horny as hell, then gives me the softest, most tender kiss ever. He pulls away from me so he can look me in the eyes, but his arms remain locked around my waist.
“You’re not coming in?” I try to give him no choice and push him inside the door.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” he tells me, shaking his head. “I’ll bring something sweet.”
I’m devastated. He’s the only sweet thing I want, and I want him now. I feel like Veruca Salt from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Instead of an Oompa Loompa, I want a Jamie Donovan.
“Then I’ll see you in the morning.” I hope he can’t hear how disappointed I am.
“Good night, Wylder,” he whispers against my lips before kissing me slowly again, barely long enough to make me horny as hell. When he finally pulls away, he whispers again. “Dream of me.”
That won’t be too hard to do.