Femme Fatale (16 page)

The exultation that roared through him had nothing to do with ego and everything to do with forming a plan to capture his intended target. He was a highly trained soldier. A strategist. A master at getting what he wanted. Was he crazy to set his sights on Olivia Harper?

Only one way to find out…

Always a man of action, he rolled out from under her to sit on the edge of the bed.

“We need a safe word,” he announced.

“Uncle?” she suggested.

“Roger that. Trust me?”

She nodded.

“Completely?”

Another nod.

Triumph jumped in his gut. Step one of his plan achieved. He was intrigued that in her sexual fantasies she wanted to hand over control to him. It was as if her subconscious already knew she wanted to belong to him completely.

On to step two. Making that fantasy of him owning her a reality.

“Across my knee. Now”

He’d show her how thin the line between pleasure and pain was drawn. Opening his hand, he gave her a swift swat. Not too hard, but just enough so she jerked beneath him and rubbed his dick in the process. Damn this was going to be fun.

“That’s it, princess, you’re doing great.” He returned to squeezing and soothing, then whacked her on the other cheek a little harder and she gasped. The outline of his palm, a slightly darker pink, blossomed across her skin and he resumed his massage. This time, he increased the number of smacks between his soothing touches until she squirmed, caught between relaxing and tensing.

She moaned and pressed herself against him, and he hardened beneath her pelvic thrusts in sweet anticipation of reaming her until she screamed that she belonged to him.

He ramped up his paddles until his palm stung and her entire rear end heated up and was burning hot, but she groaned for more.

“I want you, Blake. Please. I need you.”

“Not yet, princess. You’re not begging.”

“Oh, but I am. Take me, Blake. Please!”

His finger traced her crack, following it down between her cheeks, then lower. She groaned with need as his fingertips grazed the rim of her. Blake wavered on the verge of explosion.

“Oh, God!” she cried out.

One more swirl with his finger was all it took to send her into a shuddering, moaning orgasm. The heat in her ass and the heat beneath his fingers merged into one massive pleasure zone begging for more of his attention and damn he was going to give it to her.

His finger slipped inside her and she shamelessly rode it, her hips bucking on his lap as she sought release. It took mere seconds for her to come again, screaming her pleasure into the mattress.

He lifted her off his lap and laid her on the bed. Her rear end was red, thrusting in the air toward him in invitation, and her entire body twitched as if she were a mass of nerves tied together in a knot of lust.

She reached for him and he was so ready. He knew he was taking a risk, but he had to let her know she was his. He placed his palm on her belly. “Someday, I’m going to plant a baby in you, right here. My baby.
Our
baby.”

“Now, Blake. Do it, now,” she begged.

“Tell me you’re mine, first.”

She moaned, “Please.”

“Greedy, greedy,” he murmured. He massaged the inside of her folds and she rocked against him, trying to get him to touch her clit. Instead, careful of her well-heated ass, he squeezed her hip to hold her in place, his fingertips circling with promise but not touching her sensitive bud. “Not yet, princess.” He leaned close enough to whisper in her ear, “Say the words.”

She gasped, cried, and strained, then whimpered, “Let me come. Make me yours, Blake.”

“For you? Always.” With one fluid motion, he rammed himself inside her up to his balls, flicked her clit, and roared his pleasure as she screamed her release.

Chapter Twelve

Olivia woke slowly. She was lying on her side, something warm and resilient beneath her ear. Blake’s powerful biceps, she registered lazily. His forearm angled across her body, and his hand cupped one of her breasts possessively. Even in sleep, he was staking his claim.

Last night, in the midst of their play, he’d talked about a baby. Their baby. The thought of her being his in that way had made her come apart in a blazing orgasm.

She’d never dreamed she could
belong
to another human being like that. Blake had demanded not only the submission of her body but also of her mind and soul. It had been glorious to give all of herself to him. He’d left no part of her unbranded—his to do with whatever he wanted. And what he seemed to want was to give her mind-blowing pleasure over and over and over.

He’d taken pretty much every part of her last night, doing everything she’d ever secretly fantasized about, and more. So much more. She stretched, trying not to disturb him, and inventoried the sore spots. There were a lot of them, but none too bad. And last night had been well worth every last little ache and pain this morning.

“Good morning, sunshine,” a deep, relaxed voice murmured in her ear.

“Morning, handsome.”

His weight shifted behind her and his mouth moved lightly across the side of her neck, tracing the outline of her ear and nibbling at the delicate spot just below it. She hummed with pleasure. It was hard to believe she had any lust left in her after last night. She’d thought for sure he’d wrung it all out of her.

“How are you feeling?” he asked against her skin. “Need a soak in a hot bath?”

“That sounds like heaven. I’m sore just the right amount. Can we do that again soon?”

He chuckled. “Of course. Although I do have some other interesting plans for you.”

Her insides fluttered with anticipation. It made her hot just thinking about turning herself over to him to be his personal sex toy. Although he hadn’t made her feel like a toy last night. He’d made her feel cherished. Safe. Like she’d found home—in him.

Her agent might want her to run around casually dating a bunch of hot actors, but she didn’t want that life. A life of self absorbed, small-minded actors hooking up during a shoot for publicity, then moving on to the next starlet in a slow spiral downward to emptiness. If she rose to stardom, it would be through the quality of her acting. Not from a wild child, femme fatale image, not from drunken parties and tabloid gossip.

More than that, she simply couldn’t picture herself with anyone but Blake. If only there was a way to be with him forever…she’d leap at the opportunity—

Would she? Seriously?

He seemed to genuinely respect and like her. But could she live through the fears that he might be shot and killed every time he deployed? She turned over the idea of marrying him in her head, examining it from various angles, testing it, trying it on for size. And shockingly, it didn’t scare the hell out of her. He could be demanding at times, maybe even a little autocratic now and then. He was an alpha male, after all.

“Do you like to control money?” she blurted.

He lifted his head away from the pillow. “I beg your pardon?”

She rolled onto her back beneath his arm. “Do you like to balance checkbooks and pay bills and make budgets and that sort of thing?”

“For household stuff, yes. But business income, large amounts of money, those are best left to a solid investment advisor and a scrupulous accountant.”

He was
so
talking about her movie income. He was thinking about a future with her, too. If he could accept what she did onscreen, accept her acting career, then she’d learn to smile when he packed his duffle and left for another dangerous part of the world.

She looped her arms around his neck and kissed him sweetly. “So what’s on your agenda for today?”

He punctuated his answer with light kisses between sentences. “Thinking up creative ways to push your sexual boundaries. A little breakfast. A swim to work out the kinks. Adrian wants me on set after lunch. How about you?”

She smiled broadly at him, but answered innocently, “I think I heard the fax machine last night, so I’ll have to review whatever script or shooting changes Adrian sent me. My call’s at one o’clock.” And she’d have to face Jeremy again. Ugh.

“Why the shadow in your eyes?” Blake asked quickly.

Man, he knew her so well. She replied glumly, “Jeremy.”

“I’ll be on set with you, right there beside Adrian. Jeremy won’t mess with you as long as I’m within arm’s reach of him. I’ll take care of you.”

A warm, fuzzy feeling flowed through her. She really liked being safe and taken care of. It might be old-fashioned and not the slightest bit bad-ass, but at the end of the day, it was who she was.

“I’ll go run you a bath and order us some brunch,” Blake announced. “Why don’t you stay here a few minutes more and luxuriate in not having to get up and go anywhere this morning?”

She stretched like a cat and smiled as he climbed out of bed naked and gorgeous.

“I’m going to have to learn photography,” he commented. “I want pictures of you looking exactly like you do right now.” He leaned down to kiss her gently. “My beautiful Olivia.”

His Olivia.
She loved the sound of that. She listened to the water roaring into the tub and Blake ordering omelets, fruit, juice, and coffee for two. He strolled back into the bedroom, still naked, and handed her a sheaf of papers.

“In case you want to read in bed and be lazy,” he murmured, laying the documents on her bedside.

He disappeared and she reached over for the script pages. She glanced at the first one and frowned. She shuffled through the pages to find a revised shooting schedule and stared at it in horror. She swore at Adrian colorfully as she climbed out of bed, equal parts furious and scared as hell.

The director had re-scheduled her and Jeremy’s second love scene for
today
. The heartless bastard! Adrian must have heard about what went down at the restaurant last night and wanted to capture on film the crackling tension bound to be jumping between them. But a love scene? With the feel and smell of Blake still on her skin? With his ownership of her stamped on every inch of her being? How in the hell was she going to act anything but repelled by Jeremy?

Oh, God. What if she had bruises from last night? She raced into the bathroom to inspect herself in the mirror. Her rear end was a little red and might bruise lightly, but it should be okay today.

She rubbed it, smiling to remember her first ever spanking. Who’d have guessed being upended over a man’s knee could be so erotic? Her bum still stung, but in a good way that made her clit tingle even now. Amazingly, in spite of all he’d done to her last night, Blake hadn’t left a single bruise anywhere else. He’d been looking out for her as he always did.

The thought of doing another love scene with Jeremy in front of Blake freaked her out almost worse than anything she’d ever contemplated. Their relationship needed more time so Blake understood she was acting, that pretending under the sheets was just that—pretending. She tried soaking in the tub, but it did nothing to relax her. She climbed out, dressed, and reluctantly joined Blake at the breakfast table.

“We’ve got a problem,” she announced grimly.

His gaze snapped up to hers. He looked like a tiger ready to attack someone on her behalf.

“Adrian has moved the second love scene to today.” She braced herself for the explosion to come.

But Blake only leaned back and said mildly, “Did he, now? Smart move.”

“Why’s that?” she blurted.

“You and Jeremy have zilch by way of chemistry. Adrian knows it. You carried the first love scene all by yourself, but it’ll look weird in the film if you have to carry both love scenes. Adrian needs Jeremy not to look blatantly gay in this film. So, he’ll catch the guy while he’s still royally pissed off. I expect Adrian will disguise Jeremy’s anger as passion when he films you two.”

She asked hesitantly, “You’re okay, then, with me getting naked with Jeremy and faking sex with him?”

“No,” Blake answered a little sharply. “I’m not okay with it. But I understand that it’s your job, and I have no right to complain about love scenes. I also happen to be fairly confident you like me more than you like your co-star.”

Stunned at how mature he was being about it, she bolted from her seat and dashed around the table to him. She threw her leg across his lap and straddled his hips. “You are the most amazing man I have ever met, Blake Ramsey.”

He smiled warmly at her. “You’ll keep that in mind when Jeremy has his hands all over you?”

“I promise.”

He shoved his fingers into her hair and dragged her mouth to his for a long kiss that erased all thoughts of her co-star and love scenes.

…

But when Adrian closed the set and sent away all the non-essential crew, she was acutely aware that Blake didn’t leave with the others.

In spite of Adrian having called Jeremy and her to the set already, she picked her way barefoot over the tangle of electrical cables to Blake, clutching her robe close. She murmured in alarm, “You’re not planning to stay for this, are you?”

“I won’t leave you alone with that prick. He’s got to be severely ticked off at both of us.”

“I’m not alone on set. There’s a distressingly large crew here, in case you hadn’t noticed.” Adrian had added a fourth camera to the filming today and the set was even more crowded than the last time they filmed a love scene.

Blake threw her a withering look that made it clear he didn’t trust her safety to anyone else. While part of her was relieved that he’d be close by, she was horrified about him watching her with Jeremy. And truth be told, she was scared of what was to come. Adrian had already told her he wanted her to really turn it loose today. He obviously wanted a super hot scene, and Blake didn’t need to be subjected to that.

“I don’t know if I can do this in front of you,” she confessed.

His eyes glinted with humor. “Think of it this way. If you convince me you’re having too much fun with him, I’ll have to take you over my knee and punish you for it.”

And suddenly, she knew without a doubt she loved this man. She laughed. “So the more I want a repeat of last night, the sexier I should be?”

“You got it.” He crossed his arms and stared at her challengingly. “Go ahead. Really provoke me. I dare you.”

Thrilled goose bumps raised up on her arms at the thought of what he might do in bed if he did get really provoked. An impish part of her brain declared that this, she
had
to see. She could have hugged him for throwing down the gauntlet like that. It put her in exactly the right frame of mind to sashay over to the rotating bed with hips swinging, climb into it, and smile brazenly at Jeremy.

Her co-star had completely avoided her up till this very moment, and he seemed taken aback at her brash demeanor, but then an evil gleam lit his narrowed gaze. A frisson of alarm depressed her momentary rush of daring, but a glance at Blake restored her mojo.

“Okay, Adrian,” she announced. “Let’s do this.”

The director didn’t mess around with filming any sweet foreplay today. He merely set the lighting and cameras, and called out, “Action!”

And action it was. Jeremy fell on her like a beast, ripping back the sheets and tearing off the T-shirt the scene had her wearing. He was rough, pulling her hair and biting her painfully on the upper curve of her breast.

“Oww. This is supposed to be a
love
scene,” she hissed from behind her clenched-teeth smile as she rubbed herself all over him like a cat in heat.

“Fuck that. And fuck you,” he muttered against her neck. He yanked her head back and gave her a nasty hickey to punctuate his words.

Fine. Two could play that game. She surged up, forcing him onto his back. She threw a leg across him and dry humped him, so furious she was only vaguely appalled as his skimpy thong bulged with a real erection between her legs.

She moaned sarcastically, “Oh, baby. Yes. Like that.”

Jeremy all but drooled as he gripped her hips and banged his dick against her crotch. The guy had all the finesse of a goat. She writhed on top of him, doing her best stripper imitation.
Blake had better fuck her until she couldn’t see straight after this
.

Purring loud enough for the microphones to pick up, she lifted up her long hair and let it fall through her fingers.

Jeremy’s hands left her hips and grabbed her breasts. She arched into his palms, wishing for all she was worth that Blake was the one cupping her. Jeremy twisted both nipples viciously and she gasped. Thankfully, her hair fell mostly across her face and hid her jolt of pain and surprise.

Jeremy threw her down on the mattress, following her with a knee jammed between her thighs. She fought against him, half-acting and half for real. A nasty look had crept into his eyes and she didn’t like the direction his drunken thoughts were taking. He was starting to lose control. Acting was supposed to imitate real life, not
become
real life.

He grabbed her hands and yanked them up over her head. She struggled in earnest, but he was too strong for her. He gripped both of her wrists in one of his hands and shoved the other one between her legs. She bucked hard, shocked and furious, trying to throw him off of her.

“Back off a little, Jeremy,” Adrian called out.

“Hot fucking slut like you doesn’t like it rough? That’s bullshit,” Jeremy gritted out under his breath.

“Get off me,” she muttered back.

He seemed to have completely forgotten the cameras. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he intended to force himself on her for real. He pushed his junk against her and, using his hands, legs, and superior weight, more or less subdued her thrashing.

This was
not
cool. She kept expecting Adrian to call a cut and rescue her from this assault, but he let the cameras roll.

She was desperate enough for this job to keep going, and scared enough of ridicule for being a wimp who couldn’t take the heat, that she didn’t shout in alarm.