The Final Act (22 page)

Until that night, he hadn’t allowed himself to think ahead to where his relationship with Gretchen was going. They enjoyed being together and that was enough. Now, for the first time, he saw the type of future she anticipated—marriage, children, a steady, dependable husband. He was a terrible choice for her. He had no idea how to be part of a family.

As the evening wore on, Jake’s mouth hurt from smiling so much. Finally, he ducked out of the house, escaping the din of people, and took a walk down the quiet street. The neat lawns, hedges and fences around solid homes reminded him he was completely out of his element, as foreign as a coyote running with a pack of domestic dogs.

At the end of the cul-de-sac, he stopped, trapped. There was nowhere else to go. Jake looked up at the starry sky, sipping the beer he’d brought along.

Mr. Hamilton wasn’t the only family member who’d commented on Gretchen’s changed appearance. Her aunts claimed she was pale and told her to try to get more rest. For the first time, Jake had really looked at her and realized he was the reason for the change. In the months he’d known her he’d taken all Gretchen’s wonderful qualities and ruined them. He should break it off, get out of her life. As soon as possible after they got back, he’d end it. He’d do it hard and rough, making sure she despised him, making it easy for her to cut him out of her life.

For her own good, he’d prove her family’s assumptions right and be a complete bastard.

Scene Nine: Indianapolis

Elena hadn’t been alone with Michael for almost twelve hours, and that was twelve hours too many. Lifting her, he crushed her body against the door and his mouth to hers. His erection ground into her crotch, sending shivers of lust through her. She wrapped her legs around him and grabbed handfuls of his hair. He moaned into her mouth.

Pulling away from her lips, Michael kissed a trail down her chest to nuzzle the upper swell of her breasts. “God, I want to fucking rip your clothes off and take you right here.” His voice was muffled by her flesh.

Elena rolled her head back, exposing her throat and arching her chest into his soft lips. “We’ve had more sex up against a wall than lying down, and the bed’s only a couple of yards away.”

“Your point?”

“Mm. I forget.” She laughed and tightened her legs around his hips.

Michael carried her to the bed and laid her on the rumpled covers. “Better?” He grinned, and the butterflies in her stomach fluttered madly. The flash of white teeth in his sharp, angular face was devastating. It melted her every time.

“Come here.” She reached out to pull him on top of her. His weight settled satisfyingly on her body, pinning her to the bed.

Michael seemed to lose some of his urgency and was content to lie between her legs, gazing into her face. He brushed her hair back from her temple, letting a curly strand coil around his finger. He studied her with such intensity it embarrassed her.

“My hair is out of control. The humidity—”

He interrupted her with a kiss. “It’s beautiful. I love your hair.”

“It’s frizzy.”

He kissed her again and whispered, “Shut up and accept the compliment.”

Her cheeks burned. “I’m not good with compliments.”

“Evidently you haven’t received enough of them.” His gaze traveled over her face and settled on her mouth. He traced her lower lip with his finger. “Your lips are so kissable.” He touched the tip of her nose. “And I love your little nose.”

She fought back a smile as he poured on the charm. “Stop it.”

Michael obeyed and showed her, instead, how kissable her lips were. As his mouth settled on hers, Elena was amazed that their shared stage kisses used to curl her toes. They were nothing compared to the way he kissed her when he really meant it.

She opened her mouth, and her tongue twined with his, soft and sinuous, searching deeper, until they both pulled away breathless. “God, you can kiss.”

His shoulders flexed as she kneaded them. “And
you
give an amazing massage.”

She raised her eyebrows and dug in her nails. “You saying I don’t kiss good?”

“That goes without saying.” He tugged her lower lip between his teeth and let it go. “But I could really use a massage. I think I pulled a muscle in one of the dance numbers today.”

“Ooh, poor baby,” Elena scoffed. “Lay on your stomach. I’ll do you.”

Michael laughed. “And afterward I’ll do
you
.”

She scrambled out from under him, and he lay face down. Elena perched on his ass. She leaned into his back muscles, putting all her weight on her hands. She pressed firmly and vigorously, enjoying the pliant, naked flesh beneath her palms.

As she worked his tense neck muscles, across his broad shoulders and down the length of his back, Michael groaned into the pillow. “Mm, this is even better than sex.”

“What?” Elena stopped digging the heels of her hands into his lower back. “You say you don’t want to have sex?”

He turned his face to the side and his blue eye shot open. “No. That’s not what I said.”

Laughing, she climbed off and helped him out of his jeans so she could massage his ass. What a fine, tight one it was. By the time she’d worked his glutes and all the way down his hairy thighs and calves, Elena was hot—and not just from physical exertion. Kneading all those hard, toned muscles had her pussy wet and aching. She could hardly wait to move into the post-massage workout.

“Enough,” he said as she rubbed the arches of his feet. “My turn. Strip and stretch out.”

Elena wasn’t about to argue. Massages, like compliments and charm, had been in short supply in her previous relationships. She was happy to let him return the favor. She took off her clothes, very aware of his eyes devouring her body, and lay face down, waiting for him to begin.

Slipping his hands between the mattress and her body, Michael cupped her tits.

“Hey! I thought this was supposed to be a back massage,” she protested.

“I’m getting there.” He teased her nipples until they were good and hard, then pulled his hands out from under her body and went to work on her shoulders. His hands were warm and so big they spanned most of her back, his fingers digging deep into her muscles and releasing tension she hadn’t even known was there.

Elena couldn’t hold back her groans of delight.

“You’ve got a tense little body. Maybe you should take some of Gretchen’s chill pills.”

“That’s not even funny.” Her words came out in broken bursts as he pummeled her back. “Since she and Jake broke up she’s so withdrawn I have no idea what’s going on with her. She worries me.”

“I’ve heard everything from Gretchen catching him with some chick to her walking in on a full-blown orgy. What really happened?”

“She wouldn’t say—not to me. Not even to Denny, and you know how he can pry. Poor girl. I don’t know how much longer she can keep it together.”

“She’ll get over him. Who hasn’t had to live through at least one bad breakup?” Michael dug into the tense muscle between her shoulder blades, making Elena gasp.

She quit thinking about Gretchen’s problems and relaxed under his kneading hand, with a blissful sigh.

Moving farther down the bed, he nudged her legs apart and knelt between them. He massaged her ass and when he reached the juncture of her thighs, Elena’s pussy clenched in anticipation. His thumbs teased along the edge, almost but not quite stroking her sex. He toyed with her until she raised her ass, trying to get the touch she craved. At last he dipped his finger into her wet slit. Her muscles contracted around him.

“Are you sure this is an official massage technique?”

“Absolutely, Ms. Colvin. Most of my clients seem to enjoy it.”

“Carry on, then.” She grinned and closed her eyes.

He drew her juices toward her clit and circled it. Elena arched her rear even higher to grant him better access.

He slapped her ass lightly, but hard enough to make it sting. “I could just bite a chunk out of this.”

A moment later, his mouth was moving over her cheeks, kissing and licking down toward her pussy. She shivered as the stubble on his jaw scraped her sensitive skin. His breath blew hot across her pussy and his tongue delved between the lips.

Her stomach contracted hard and her sex grew even more slippery and open. Groaning, she pushed back against his mouth.

“Crazy massage,” she grunted as Michael abruptly pulled away, grasped her legs and flipped her onto her back. He continued sampling her juices and lapping over her clit until she writhed. The steady sweep of his tongue was too intense and suddenly the small pulses of delight exploded in a violent burst of pleasure.

Elena cried out broken phrases in both English and Spanish. She always lost control of her mouth when she came and spewed out words without even being aware of it. “
Ai, fuck! God, Michael que bueno. Te amo.
”

Little quakes continued to percolate through her while her heart slowed and her breathing evened out. She suddenly realized what her last words had been and hoped he couldn’t understand them.

Michael slid up her body and lay beside her, head propped on his hand. “
Bueno
, eh? I love your inner Latina. So sexy.”

She opened an eye and looked at him. “
Sí
?”

“Yeah. It’s
caliente
.”

“White boys.” She gave an exaggerated sigh. “Always hot for the foreign pussy.”

“Wanna find out how much?” He took her hand and guided it down to his straining cock.

She rubbed her thumb through the moisture gathered at the crown, then gripped his shaft and tugged. Lying on her side, she snuggled close and guided him to her cleft.

He thrust into her, his hand gripping her ass to hold her steady. His eyes drifted closed as he rocked slowly in and out.

She loved the sensation of being filled, her body welcomed it and clamped around his cock as if reluctant to let it go. Elena clutched his shoulder. He had such nice shoulders, broad and strong, but not over-muscled. His entire body was lean and wiry, just the way she liked.

She bore down on his cock, riding him hard until Michael’s groans escalated along with his thrusting, and she knew he was getting close. He might not be vocal like she was, but she could read his non-verbal language.

He suddenly swooped down on her mouth, his tongue plunging inside as his cock impaled her body. Elena tasted her musk. She sucked his tongue and curled hers around it.

Michael pulled away from the kiss. His breath blew against her face and he groaned loudly then froze. She felt his cock pulsing inside her and she gripped it hard with her inner muscles.

He arched his neck, muscles corded and he grimaced in pleasure bordering on pain. She studied his ecstatic expression—unguarded and honest. For a brief moment, Michael’s cool veneer was stripped away, revealing his passion and his vulnerability. She wished he would expose as much of himself when they talked as he did during sex.

He drew a deep breath, opened his eyes, and blinked when he saw her looking back. “Were you just watching me?”

“No.”

“Yes you were.”

“Maybe a little.” Elena unhooked her leg from his hip and rolled to her back. She stretched, feeling as loose and relaxed as a cat in the sun. Then she turned on her other side and spooned into Michael’s embrace. The post-coital cuddle was one of her favorite parts of sex.

They lay quietly a long time before she broke the silence. “You still awake?”

“Mm-hm.”

“Is it terribly unprofessional of us getting involved like this?”

“No more than any other co-workers who date. There’s always a chance it won’t work out and you’ll have to continue to see that person every day.”

“Except what we do is a little more intimate than sharing office space. All that touching and kissing is what got us into trouble in the first place.”

“Who says we’re in trouble? Besides, I like all the touching and kissing.” He licked her neck, making her squirm and giggle. “So, we won’t break up and it won’t get awkward.”

“What happens after the tour?” The question had been haunting her.

Several moments ticked past. “What do you want to have happen?”

“I asked you first.”

He rubbed her stomach and kissed the back of her shoulder. “I don’t know, but I’d like to keep seeing you when we’re back in New York.”

Elena smiled. He’d said exactly what she’d wanted to hear. “Me, too.”

“I guess we’ll play it by ear. See how it goes.”

Hardly a declaration of love, but it was a lot coming from him. Charming or thoughtful he may be, but he always held a portion of himself back while Elena tended to throw herself passionately into relationships the same way she did acting. Her intensity had driven away men in the past, and she was determined not to wreck things with Michael by asking for too much commitment too soon. She could be as nonchalant as he and see how things played out when they got back home.

Scene Ten: Baltimore

Denny’s pulse raced as he listened to Tom’s phone ring. He remembered the time he had to give a speech in eighth grade, before he became a stage-hound, back when he was a shy, gawky boy with a bad case of acne and low self-confidence. He’d had nightmares for days leading up to the speech and sweated and stammered his way through it. At the time, he was determined never to have a career that required public speaking. In a way he hadn’t because onstage he didn’t deliver a speech so much as become a character.

But this phone call was all him. Every word must be carefully chosen. If he said the wrong thing, he could lose Tom forever. His future hung on the next few minutes…if Tom ever picked up the phone.

“Hello?”

Denny was startled. The phone had rung so many times he’d been expecting voice mail. “Uh, hi.”

“Denny.” Tom’s voice was level and gave no clue to his feelings. Was he relieved? Angry? Dismissive? Denny couldn’t tell.

“Hi. How are you?” He felt shy, as if talking to a stranger instead of his own beloved Tom.

There was a slight pause. “I’m still here.”

Taking a deep breath, Denny plunged in. “I’m sorry I haven’t returned your calls. I need to talk to you about what’s going on between us. Or what isn’t.” He gave a sharp laugh. “They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, but I think it completely fucked us up.”