“Can’t you at least kiss me goodbye,” she whispered, too aware of her taut nipples pressing against his hard, bare chest.

“Not a good idea,” he growled.

“You sure about that?” She rubbed her hips against the hard ridge of his erection, sighing as her body melted against his.

On a groan, he reached for her, gripping her with strong, sure arms, pulling her close, like a man who was starving for her.

She was starving, too, starving for the intoxicating sensuality of his mouth claiming hers. He tasted so good, so right. For fifteen years, she’d wanted this and denied it. Why should she fight it now? Moaning, she kissed him back.

His savage grip crushed her. His hungry passion ignited unmet needs. Murmuring his name feverishly, her fingertips ran through his thick, inky hair.

“All weekend I wanted this,” she whispered. “Wanted you. Wanted to touch you, to kiss you…to be in your arms…even though I tried to tell myself I didn’t. Friday night I lay in bed, wanting this more than I’d ever wanted anything. And last night after we talked, I craved it even more, craved it so much I felt like I was about to burst. Then you went upstairs, and I felt so lost and alone in that bed. I-I couldn’t sleep for hours. You told me you’d make me want you, and you were right.”

“You shouldn’t say these things.”

“I don’t understand any of it and yet…it’s the truth.”

“Hell,” he muttered. “This isn’t some damn role you’ve got to understand. Life’s messy and chaotic and doesn’t make a lick of sense most of the time. Like now. Like last night. I decided you’re the one woman I should have nothing to do with. And yet here I am…”

“Tell me about it,” she whispered. “You’re definitely bad for me, too.”

When his mouth took hers again, his desperation and urgency made her dizzily excited.

“This is crazy,” she whispered as her fingertips glided across the damp hair on his bronzed flesh. “I didn’t want to come this weekend, and now I can’t bear to go.”

“I don’t want you to go, either.”

“Punish me like you swore you would. Make love to me,” she whispered.

The next thing she knew, he was lifting her, kissing her wildly as he carried her up the stairs, into the house and then down the hall to her room. Locking the door, he drew her down to the bed.

In no time, she stripped, but even in her rush, she enjoyed the striptease, for never had she played to a more fascinated audience. He lay on the bed watching as she undid her blouse in the shadows. Button by button, her slim fingers skimmed downward. He held his breath, his eyes burning when she threw her blouse aside and unhooked her bra.

“You are exquisite,” he rasped when she slid her lacy panties down her thighs. Vaguely she was aware of him rustling with a foil wrapper. Then, reaching for her, he lay down beside her and buried his face in the curve of her neck.

She let her head fall back, offering him her breasts. “You’re pretty okay yourself.”

His lips traced the length of her throat. He tasted first one nipple and then the other until they beaded into damp, pink pearls. She trembled with an enjoyment she couldn’t hide, which she could see excited him even more.

When his lips found hers again, she fell back against the pillows and opened her mouth so his tongue could slide inside.

“Strip for me,” she whispered. “I want to see you naked.”

“Wicked girl.”

Grinning, he ripped off his swimming trunks. Her breath stopped. He was huge and gorgeous, magnificently virile. While she watched approvingly through the screen of her lowered lashes, he tossed his trunks into a far corner.

Reaching toward him, she slid her hand over his manhood, circling it so that he inhaled sharply. While she touched him, he caressed her most secret, delicate folds with blunt-fingered hands, teasing her sensitive nub of flesh until her breath came hard and fast and she wanted him inside her more than anything.

But he refused for a while longer, teasing her with his mouth and hands while she grew hotter and wilder.

How had she lived without him all these years?

Squeezing him, she rubbed in an urgent, methodic way until he groaned and gathered her close. She heard the sound of a foil wrapper again. Then he slid the condom on and, much to her delight, positioned the head of his shaft against her damp entrance.

Murmuring her name, he hovered there, kissing her hair, her brow. Only when she arched her hips upward in sensual invitation did he slide all the way inside. For a moment, he stopped and simply held her so they could savor the sensation of their joined bodies.

“Zach,” she pleaded.

His hips surged. She cried out as he drove himself home.

Their eyes met and held. With her hands, she cupped his face and kissed each of his cheeks and then his nose.

He sighed, as if relieved of some immense weight. Then, all too soon, some primal force took over.

How she loved lying underneath him, staring up at the breadth of his bronzed shoulders, at his black hair that dripped perspiration onto his gorgeous face as he pumped. She felt on fire. With every thrust he claimed her, and she surrendered to him as she had as a girl, completely, irrevocably, giving him every shattered piece of her heart.

Thus did he sweep her away to emotional and sensual peaks she’d never known before. Crying out in the end, she held on to him, feeling lost and yet found again as he exploded inside her. In a blinding flash, she saw that he had always remained at the center of her heart.

For a long time she lay trembling quietly beneath him. Then she kissed his damp eyelashes and eyebrows. I love you, she thought. I always have. This is what has been missing.

If I have everything else and lack this, I can never be complete.

Only gradually did she grow aware of how wonderfully heavy he was on top of her. When she opened her eyes and looked up at the hard angles of his handsome face, she saw that he was staring down at her with a brooding intensity that frightened her.

“You’ve got to go soon, so you can cram for those damn scenes with Jones.” Frowning, he kissed the tip of her nose.

“Yes,” she replied drowsily without the least bit of enthusiasm. “I think you just sapped all my ambition to be a movie star. I just want to stay here with you.”

He nipped her upper lip a little firmly…as if to snap her out of her languid mood. “But that’s not who you are, is it? You said your career is what completes you, not relationships. And with my uncle not there to help me anymore, I’ve got a helluva lot to do in Houston. So…”

No sweet words. Nothing. Just those two parting kisses.

A chill swept her. Had she been wrong about their sex being spiritual as well as physical? Had it just been revenge for him after all? Now that he’d had her again, was he done?

“And next weekend?” she murmured, deliberately keeping her voice light. “Do we meet again?”

“I’ll call you,” he said slowly, but there was no conviction in his voice. Her heart sank as he stroked her neck absently. “Like I said, we both have a lot on our plates.”

“Sounds to me like maybe I’m off the hook. For good behavior?”

“Maybe,” he admitted.

“Okay, then. I get it.”

He stared at her, sucked in a breath, but didn’t reply.

She rose, reached for her clothes and began to dress hurriedly.

So what if he wasn’t going to call? She’d served her time, so to speak. Now he wouldn’t press charges against Tuck.

Logically, she knew that it was probably best if this thing between them ended here. For her, sex with him had been too intense, too all-consuming for her to have a light affair. He would break her heart all over again if she wasn’t careful. No smart adult should let herself become involved with a man she’d loved and obsessed over for years.

But she wasn’t feeling logical. She was feeling sensually and emotionally aflame after his lovemaking. The whole world seemed aglow. He seemed a part of her, her other half.

Naturally, she wanted to see him again, to lie in his arms like this again. She felt she’d lose a vital part of herself forever if she couldn’t. Which meant he’d completed his mission, by using sex as a weapon to punish her.

He’d won.

Seven

On her flight to L.A., try as she might, Summer found it impossible to concentrate on her script. Hurt simmered inside her because of Zach’s coolness at their parting. Thus, the minute the jet’s wheels slammed against tarmac, she turned on her phone, desperate to check her messages.

She swallowed when she found only a single text from Hugh.


can’t meet u. nominated sexiest man n known universe 2day. jerk leaked information about hot scenes n dangerous man. horde of paparazzi @ my bldg.


No sooner had her plane rolled to a stop in front of a private hangar than a herd of photographers stampeded her jet.

Great. I’m on my own. This is what I deserve for letting the world think even for one minute I was ever serious about Hugh.

Bob stuck his shaggy head out of the cockpit and said, “Not to worry. I’ve already notified security.”

When she finally left the jet, with a security detail, paparazzi on motorcycles chased her limo all the way to her hotel. Apparently, Hugh’s premiere had been well-received by critics and the public, so for now he was the hottest talent in La-La Land.

Welcome to Hollywood, she thought as she bolted herself into her hotel room.


* * *

When room service arrived with her breakfast the next morning, Summer found a weekly tabloid tucked under her door along with a note from her agent. The tabloid’s banner headline read: Sexiest Man In The Universe Teams With Reputed Lover, Broadway Actress Summer Wallace, To Shoot Super Sexy Love Scenes. The article beneath the headline made her feel cheap and tawdry, especially after her weekend with Zach.