Bound to Love (6 page)

Troy closed the door, took me in his arms and shook. After the celebration of the play, then the shock of meeting his mother, he was done. “What do you have to do now?” I said.

“We’re supposed to have dinner, then sit up for the early critic reports. That doesn’t happen like it used to, though. The early reviews will be up in an hour.”

I stroked his back. His costume was harsh under my hands. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to. This is a turning point in my career—I know it. I want you with me.” He’d stopped shaking. He lifted his head, and although his eyes glistened suspiciously, he was smiling. “That was nothing. I’m getting showered and changed, and you can sit there, drink some champagne and look beautiful.”

I was wearing contacts tonight, and a simple dress that, had he but known it, had been a lucky find at a thrift store. A very lucky find. I’d need more clothes if I was going to be with him, but I could afford them now. If I took the museum job, that was.

We went out to dinner with the cast and the director. Everybody was happy, celebrating and drinking champagne like it came out of a tap. Troy was triumphant but gracious, insisting on thanking everyone. That was after he’d gone to the stage door, signed programs, talked to people and posed for dozens of selfies. Cameras flashed in our faces, because he wouldn’t let me leave his side. Now the world knew I was his girlfriend.

The reviews blazed with triumph. All the doubtful media messages about how bad this play was going to be, what a disaster, had been forgotten, or derided because the people who attended the previews hadn’t noticed the splendor that they were working toward. “Shakespeare is all about emotional truth,” one of the critics said, “And Troy Cooper reached to it effortlessly.”

We both laughed at that one. It had been anything but effortless.

But Troy kept me with him. Either he was holding my hand or he had his arm around my shoulders, as if he was afraid I’d run away. People noticed, and exchanged glances, but nobody disapproved of our closeness. I wouldn’t care if they had. He was sharing his triumph with me and it felt good.

Cindy was with the bodyguard. He came with us, and not to take care of Troy.

Finally, at midnight Troy hauled me to my feet. “Home,” he declared. “I’ll catch the rest of the earlies later.” Although there was no need. The play was a triumph.

When had it become so natural to call his place home? But it was. It was a beautiful apartment, and I’d miss it. My earnings would increase with my new job, but not nearly as much as I’d need to keep it once Troy moved back to LA. I had already decided I would tell him that when he left New York, we were over. Then I would have to be the actor, trying to hid my heartbreak and wave him off with a smile.

The thought tainted my evening, even though I did my best to hide it.

He kissed me in the back of the cab, like we were teenagers making out after Prom. But with oh, so much more skill! He touched me, stroked my skin and licked into my mouth in teasing forays, leaving no doubt what we’d be doing once we got home.

We were laughing when we went into his building. He nodded to the concierge when the man congratulated him, and dragged me upstairs. He didn’t stop until we stood in his bedroom. Our bedroom. I had a couple of hangers in his walk-in closet now, and the bathroom was crammed with hair products and makeup.

This time there was nothing flirtatious about his kiss. He took his time tasting and caressing me, and I touched him back, wondering when he’d ask me to stop. We’d made progress, but we weren’t there yet. I hadn’t had my legs around his waist yet.

He undressed me, piece by piece, and I didn’t fuss about where my clothes landed. I was too busy slipping the buttons of his shirt undone, and touching his chest. We’d agreed that when he couldn’t stand it anymore, he’d tell me, but so far he had let me go farther than we had before. I slid the shirt off his shoulders, letting my fingers stroke the smooth shapes of his muscles, swelling under his skin. He watched me, kept his eyes on my face. Greatly daring, I spread my palms over his chest. He rested his hands on my waist and looked down at me. No trace of a smile curved his oh-so-kissable lips, and his eyes, that rich bright blue were solemn. “I love you,” he said.

I couldn’t breathe. My mouth dropped open and I froze. “D-did you just say...?”

“Uh-huh. And I’m going to make love to the woman I love most in all the world. That’s you, in case you weren’t listening.” He dropped a kiss on the end of my nose, so gentle I could hardly feel it.

“I love you too,” I said, rushing the words because I was afraid I wouldn’t get them out. “I do, I really do. You, Troy, not Foxman, or Antony or anybody else.”

“Shh,” he said, drawing me close and kissing my lips. His mouth pressed slowly, then harder, until he thrust his tongue into my mouth

He didn’t mean it, he couldn’t. With a groan I slid my hand around his neck and thrust my fingers into his hair. I’d longed to do that, to tickle the short hairs at the base of his skull, to plunge with abandon into the thick mass above. It was silky, and I would muss it to death.

With a choked moan, he lifted me and carried me to the bed. I was in my underwear, but he took my bra and panties off me with a few efficient movements, then he laid me on the crisp sheets. I watched him while he stripped, shedding his pants, underwear and socks fast. He was beautiful, my man, the man I loved. But not because of his looks, the gifts he was born with, that had led to his exploitation, but the inner man who glowed through, the remains of the sensitive child crying in the night, the strong man he had become. It was all part of him and I loved it all.

He came down on me. I had expected him to ask me to go on all fours, or pause to find the handcuffs, but he did no such thing. I opened my legs and lifted my knees to allow him to settle between them and bring our sexes into alignment. He touched me, watching my face all the time, pushed a finger into me, and gathered my juices. Then he sat up, and spread what he’d collected over the head of his cock, mingling my juices with his precum, combining us. He swallowed, watching my face. “I will do my best to be worthy of you,” he said. “I love you, Cassie.”

“I love you,” I echoed as he came down and pushed his shaft into me.

The sensation was incredible, but I needed to make sure he was with me as well, so I kept my arms by my sides, pressed my palms against the bed.

“Put your hands on my arms,” he said as he came down to me.

“You’re sure?”

“Completely. I couldn’t be more sure. I’ll watch you all the time, and then I’ll know it’s you. Touch me, Cassie.”

How wonderful it felt to hold him. I gripped his biceps as he pushed into me. I’d never watched him like this when we made love before. It was addictive. I hugged his sides with my knees as he thrust deep into me, his lips full from our kisses, his eyes swimming in love. He set up a rhythm, deep and sure, and I arched my back to bring his shaft to the right place. His body rippled with leashed power as he thrust deep, then withdrew and drove in again. Steadily we worked together and he took me higher, while he watched me. When he kissed me he didn’t close his eyes, so I didn’t, either. My head went back when the ripples of my first orgasm began, flowing through me, a river of ecstasy. We were so close now, so deep in each other. “I love you,” I said, because I had to. I was lost in him, and nothing else mattered.

Sensations flowed through me, and he touched every part of me, his body heavy with desire. I gripped his arms tighter and watched his face, the beads of sweat on his forehead, the warmth in his eyes, a summer day of heat and passion.

I cried out when I came, unable to hold it back a moment longer, and he followed, spurting into me, his heat soaking me, splashing my inner walls until I could have cried from the beauty of it.

Then he lay on me, and I laughed in sheer happiness.

No way would I give this up. No way would I give this man up.

His chest heaving, he withdrew from my body, even though I would have kept him there forever, and rolled on to his back. But he didn’t leave the bed, didn’t move away. Instead, he turned toward me and clasped my hands in his, kissing first one, then the other. I leaned over and we shared a long, luscious kiss of fulfillment.

“Will you come with me?” he said.

“Anywhere.” I meant it. I knew what I wanted now. “I’ll tell Steve I can’t take the job.” It would be a wrench, but if I had to choose between Troy and my job, then I would do it. “I have my degrees and Steve will give me a good reference. I can find another job somewhere.”

He traced the cleft between my breasts with one finger. “That seems a shame. No, my love, I didn’t mean that. I meant life. Shit, I’m losing it. Too many words. I meant move in here and live with me.” He lifted his gaze to my face. “I’m not doing the Foxman movie.”

I must have gaped, because he touched my jaw and I snapped my mouth shut. He was throwing away a fortune. A starring role on Broadway couldn’t compete with an international franchise. He’d said he didn’t care, but there were other considerations, too. “You can’t do it. That movie could be the real start of your career. This is a boost, a sideline. You can do theater when you like.”

He laughed, rolling on to his back, but he didn’t release my hand. “You sound just like my father. Who, by the way, agrees with my decision.”

“How do you know?” He hadn’t spoken to him tonight. I’d been with Troy all the time.

“Because I turned the movie down earlier today. Yes, the script is better, but it’s still skimming the surface. The movie’s real stars are the special effects. I don’t want to go back to standing in a studio in front of a green screen, chasing imaginary monsters.”

“What do you want?”

“You.” I had never seen him so easy before, never seen him so relaxed. He had grown into himself. The façade he used all the time was gone. I got the feeling I was seeing the real Troy, the man he was, and I felt so privileged.

“You can’t throw it all away.”

“I don’t intend to. From now on I’m only taking the roles that interest me. They can recast the Foxman part, or kill him off, I don’t care.”

“Your fans will.”

He sighed. “I’m still committed to the fantasy convention next year, but maybe they’ll have the new movie out by then and I’ll be off the hook. I suggested to them that they should cast another actor, and either make him the original Foxman, like they do with James Bond, or they reboot the whole concept.”

“Maybe you’ll be doing another superhero.”

He shrugged. “Who knows? But I won’t be doing it without you. If you’re in New York for the next year, then so am I. When the play finishes, I’ll find something else, or I’ll rest. Your career is as important as mine, my love. More important, I’d say, because you’re preserving our past.”

“You make me sound important.” I still didn’t feel it, though. I reached out and traced a line down his chest. He shifted slightly. He still wasn’t completely comfortable but I knew now that we’d get there. “Promise me one thing.”

“Anything.”

“You’ll get some therapy.” I went on hastily, before he could interrupt. “You might not need it, but at least see somebody.”

“When I told my mother to leave, I sent her out of my life.” He rolled over and clasped my hands between his. “She’s my past. You’re my future, and I’d say right now that was looking pretty good.” He smiled. “We can have a ritual burning of the handcuffs.”

“Oh no.” A jolt of fresh arousal went through me when he mentioned them. “I don’t want to get rid of them completely.”

His smile warmed me right down to my toes. “Maybe we can find a use for them, hmm? Now how about telling me when you’re moving in?”

“Monday?” I said tentatively. “Are you sure you want this?”

“You’re in my heart already. Now I want you in the rest of my life. Forever.”

All I could think of saying was “Yes.”

The End

You can get the whole story in a box set,
Bound and Determined

Did you love
Bound To Love
? Then you should read
Bound To Him
by Emma Lyn Wild!

In this, the first book in a thrilling new trilogy, a Hollywood star on the ropes meets a woman who only has eyes for archaeology. They burn down the night and want more, but they have many battles before they reach their happy ending...

Working as an unpaid intern at her dream job leaves Cassie little time for herself, since she has to work two other jobs to pay the rent and eat. But when Hollywood bad boy Troy Cooper walks into her gallery at the museum, all she can think about is his gorgeous blue eyes and his beautiful body.

Her roomie introduces her to Madame X, the owner of the most exclusive escort agency in New York. All Cassie has to do is take three dates and she can pay off her worst debts. But the first date is with a sleaze, and she knows she can’t go through with it. Not until Troy shows up. He takes over the date—and takes her to bed. There, Cassie discovers something else about the sexy Hollywood actor, a kink she reluctantly agrees to, and then finds thrilling.

Troy is in New York to act in a play that’s his last chance. Despite being the son of one of Hollywood’s top producers, he’s blotted his copybook one time too many. If he doesn’t make a success of this, he’s finished. But when he meets Cassie, he’s a goner. When he discovers she’s an escort, he knows she could destroy everything he was fighting for.

The hell of it is, he can’t forget her. He still wants her, so badly that giving up his career starts to look like a viable option.

With fans pushing her out of the way, and Troy anxious about the play, Cassie’s caught between her job and his hard body. When the play finishes its run, he’s going back to LA and his role as superhero Foxman. How can they ever make it work?

Maybe she should give up and enjoy what she has while she has it, then let him go with a smile. So why is that so hard?