First Take (Star-Taken) (20 page)

It’s just dinner.

Her stomach growled. After deciding to break up with him that morning, her nerves hadn’t allowed her to eat much. Why did his presence soothe her even when she had every intention of ending the relationship? But she could eat, satisfy her curiosity about a host of questions, and then see where she stood. As she smiled and took his hand, she almost believed she hadn’t changed her mind to break up with him.

He escorted her to the table then held out
a chair. She flashbacked to that first day at the sushi restaurant when he laughed at her recall of the antics that had ensued after she’d dropped
The Old Man in the Sea
into the water and scared all the fish way. She’d wanted Robert to dive in after it. She was so close to the end, and after the pain of reading the old man’s heartache, she deserved the satisfaction of reaching the conclusion. Instead, Robert had tossed her in, but she’d caught his shorts on the way overboard and he’d splashed into the water beside her. Stephen’s husky laugh had left her warm and happy with the decision to not sit at the sushi bar. Now, here they were in an even more intimate setting.

After a moment of hesitation during which she called herself a dozen different kinds of fool, s
he slid onto the hard, but not uncomfortable, wooden chair. It was carved to cradle her body and provide support in all the right places. “Thank you.”

He settled into
the chair across from her. While the table sat eight, instead of setting places at the head and foot, their dinner occupied only one end, so there was less space separating them. The candles sat toward the center of the table as a makeshift divider of sorts, giving the whole thing a more cozy setting. How many other women had received this treatment?

Not a question she would ask. The ans
wer didn’t really matter anyway. She was here now. The past and future held no place, just the present. If she could think like that all the time, then she and Stephen could have a relationship. The problem was the future very much mattered to her. “So, how did the restaurant opening go? I would’ve thought you’d stay the entire weekend…”

In the process of carving the bird, he paused and shot her a look. “I had more important things to take care of here.”

Her heart stalled. Did he mean her? Yes, he’d detoured to Houston on the way back from LA, but she had no way of knowing if that had impacted his professional schedule. Yet, here he was now, saying what? It was Saturday afternoon, and he was here with her. Tomorrow was Sunday. What were the chances he had something on schedule for then?

H
e resumed carving the bird and said, “Besides, Becca can handle my end and Allie and Zach are there. Allie’s the marketing guru and Zach’s the financial genius. All I brought to the table was my name.” He shrugged as if that wouldn’t be the major draw for customers. He slid the knife under a few pieces, placed the fork over them then offered the lot to Rachel. She held out her plate.

Aft
er serving the succulent-looking meat down, he put a scoop of risotto followed by some kind of wilted greens onto her plate as well, all while continuing his recounting, “Zach is also a foodie and somewhat of an amateur chef. The restaurant is just this little Italian hole in the wall Zach fell in love with on one of his trips to LA. An old couple with no kids ran it. It was their baby. Like so many, they ran into financial trouble during the recession. They didn’t have any family to help them and were about to lose everything and would’ve been left with nothing on which to live.” He shook his head. “That would’ve broken Zach’s heart.”

He quickly served himself.
Flashing her a smile, he said, “So we bought them out. They’re still running the kitchen while Allie shadows them and gets their secret recipes, proprietary knowledge and all that.”

Rachel swallowed a lump in her throat. It wasn’t just her Stephen looked after, and she’d bet, even without his friend Zach’s influence, if Stephen had discovered the Italian couple in need, he would’ve
helped in some way. Every detail about himself he shared made her fall in love with him that much more. How could she end it and break her heart?

S
he rushed on to the next question. Maybe the answer would paint him in a less attractive light, making her job a little easier. “Why isn’t Becca part of the company?” If they’d all been friends forever, why were only three of them partners?

The corner of his mouth quirked upward as he speared a slice of meat with his fork. “Becca’s not much of a risk taker.
Never has been. She had a rougher childhood than even the three of us and, as a result, likes to draw a steady salary and have a regular work schedule. Though why she wants to run errands for me when she could be doing any of a thousand more interesting things is beyond me.” He stuck the bite of food in his mouth, chewing as he steepled his hands in front of him with his elbows on the table.

Okay, so that answer didn’t help her dilemma. He didn’t just take care of his friends, but he did it in ways that presumably
resulted in them feeling better about themselves. At a loss for words, she followed his lead and bit into what turned out to not only be duck, but the juiciest one she’d ever had. “Mmm, oh my God, you cooked this?”

A grin split his face. “Yeah,
Zach’s taught me a thing or two in the kitchen.” He tucked into the food while she sipped the wine.

Fruit and spice notes complimented the duck’s richness. “Is this a Rioja?”

As he finished his bite, he twisted the wine bottle so she could see the label. “Zach suggested it. He’ll be happy someone else knows their wines. I’m more of a beer guy, though I’ll have a glass or two of wine with a nice dinner.”

Her heart twisted. He talked as if s
he would be part of his and his friends’ intimate group. How to tell him she wouldn’t be around long enough to meet Zach? Though her stomach turned, she sampled the risotto. It was perfectly moist and the strong taste of parmesan bypassed the sawdust that had coated her mouth with her dread. “Mmm.”

Then she tasted the wilted greens, which must have been cooked in a sherry of some sort. The whole trio combined into a sumptuous treat.
One she couldn’t enjoy while knowing she was here under false pretenses.

After setting her fork down,
Rachel sat on her hands, a habit she had when she was nervous. It kept her from playing with things. Of course it did nothing for her bouncing legs.

Not surprisingly, Stephen noticed. He placed his utensils down, wiped his mouth on his napkin then stood. After coming aroun
d the table, he knelt by her chair and gently removed her right hand from beneath her. Holding it in his, he said, “Hey. What’s wrong?”

She didn’t want to look at him, didn’t want to meet his eyes, but she did. The concern in his gaze had her tearing up. “Why do you have to be so nice?”

A bemused smile drew his brows together and the corners of his mouth upward. “That’s a bad thing?”

With her free hand, she swiped at an escaped tear, using more force than necessary because the hand was numb from sitting on it. As the blood returned, tingles prickled the skin.
“No. No, it’s not bad. It’s just—”

He placed a finger over her mouth. “Let’s go sit on the sofa. It’s more comfortable.” He stood and stepped back then tugged her to her feet.

Thankful for the brief reprieve, she trailed him as he led her to the leather sofa. His hand, the same one capable of delivering amazing pleasure, was warm and reassuring. He was the whole package, handsome and kind and considerate. She sucked in a deep breath. Breaking up with assholes was easy. Telling a nice guy it wouldn’t work out was a whole different story.

She’d never understood the “It’s not you. It’s me” excuse, but that was what this instance was.
It was her insecurities, her desire to remove uncertainty from her life necessitating the split.

They se
ttled side by side on the sofa and he collected her hands in his. “I know the last couple of weeks have been pretty intense.”

She snorted. That word summed up not only the
events of the past two weeks, but his real-life personality, their interactions with each other, and her feelings for him.

“But your dad’s still improving, right?” At her nod, he continued, “and now that the restaurant is open, I’m back in New York for the foreseeable future. That rom
-com I’m doing is set here. I don’t know if I told you that.”

She latched onto that like a lifeline for her reason to break it off. “
No, you didn’t tell me. Just like you didn’t tell me about the movie in the first place, about the restaurant, or about your friends until I accidentally found out about them.” She let her voice rise with each “about.” In the hotel, he’d said he didn’t do irrational. Maybe if she recaptured that moment, he’d decide she wasn’t worth his time and be the one to break up.

A small frown wrinkled his brow. “I’m sorry, but honestly, wasn’t your dad’s health more important than any of those things?”

She opened her mouth, but couldn’t protest so shut it again. Of course her dad’s condition had been precarious. At best, if Stephen had told her any good news about his life, she would’ve had to fake enthusiasm. He stroked the inside of her wrist and a flash of desire rushed from the spot. “My dad and sex you mean. You always made time for that.” She almost choked over the words because she hadn’t been less than a willing participant.

His frown deepened. “I didn’t hear you saying no.”

God, she sucked at this. It was easier with lazy bums and cheating jerks. She tugged her hands free and stood. “What woman in her right mind would say no to you? You’re a dream. A fantasy. I thought after that first night, you were gone from my life, just an amazing memory to keep me warm on lonely nights.” She walked toward the windows and stared out at the sunlight twinkling on the river.

“So what are you saying, Rach?
You wish I’d never called? You wish I hadn’t tried to carve a place for me in your life? You’re not interested in a relationship with the real me?”

He’d given her the perfect opportunity, but she didn’t know if she could get the words out without choking. She’d never been good at lying.
Hugging herself, she drew a breath. It whooshed from her when Stephen grabbed her shoulders and spun her. Green fire danced in his eyes. What had happened to not doing emotionally charged?

“Tell me
. Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t want me. Me, the man, not the movie star. I’m no mystery. I eat. I sleep. I love. I hate. I fuck.” He tugged her hips flush with his. The hard muscles of his thighs rested against her hip bones. The rigid length of his erection prodded her belly. “Tell me you don’t want to fuck me again.”

~ * ~

EIGHTEEN

As arousal shook Rachel, she grabbed Stephen’s flexed biceps. “I—”

He growled, “No.
” His eyes were the same green as storm-tossed seas. “You don’t get to lie to me.” Then he claimed her lips.

She hadn’t a clue what she’d been prepared to say, but the brutality of his kiss had her wondering if he kissed her because he hated her or just because he wanted to fuck her. Her battered emotions couldn’t withstand either. She didn’t want his anger. She wanted his love
, but was too afraid to wait for it. As the realization slammed home, a ragged sob tore from her throat.

The kiss gentled. He teased her lower lip then her upper lip with light brushes. He licked each one
before tracing the seam between them. Then, he repeated it all until she opened her mouth on a mewl. She was begging like a kitten for more pets, but unlike that tiny creature, she had no claws to protect herself from the intensity of this thing between them.

She found the strength to break away
, sliding her hands between them and flattening them on the hard planes of his pecs. Meeting his gaze, she choked out, “I can’t.”

That sexy half smile appeared. “Can’t what
? Say the words.”

She shook her head. He misunderstood. She wasn’t saying she couldn’t tell him she didn’t want to fuck him. “I can’t do this,
” she said, gesturing between their bodies from him to her.

His unreadable mask wiped the smile from his face. Relaxing his grip on her shoulders, he asked, “Why?”

He’d always demanded honesty from her, and she’d given it. Would he laugh at her fears? There was no way to hedge about the doubts spinning through her head. She sucked in a deep breath and managed to say, “I’m afraid.”

His brows drew together. “Afraid.” Not said as a question, but more as if he was puzzling out the meaning of the word. He rubbed her arms before framing her face with his hands, their warmth
chasing away the cold fear clutching her heart. He looked directly into her eyes, sincerity evident in his as he said, “I don’t normally pick up strangers, not at the movies, not anywhere.”

Relief washed through her
. It was good to hear the words. She wasn’t one of many. But she needed more than that. “Neither do I.”

“I didn’t think you did.
” He dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose then smiled. “Do you remember that first night when you didn’t want to kiss me on your stoop?”

When she nodded, he continued, “Then when you flipped out at the hotel, it reinforced that you weren’t interested in what being with me could do for you.” As he spoke, h
e traced her chin and lower lip with his thumb, sending light tingles to tighten her scalp and a lazy arousal to whisper down her neck.

Rachel
didn’t know if he was even aware he was doing it, but it fueled her response. She dropped her hands to his hips and clung tight. “By then I knew exactly what you could do for me.” And while innuendo laced her tone, the sentence held more truth. She’d known at the hotel that she loved him and it wasn’t all about the sex, which was why she’d run scared.

His lips curved into a wicked smile and molten desire erupted in her
blood. He slid a hand down her arm to cup her butt and lift her so the hard ridge pressing against his zipper nestled more firmly against her lower belly. “I’m a very private person. I prefer our mind-blowing sex life to stay between us. It’s not easy finding a woman who is honest, uninterested in the public eye, and like fire in the bedroom.”

So b
ecause she wasn’t a spotlight whore and the sex was good, Stephen could pursue her without fear? But that wasn’t enough for her. It fed her suspicions that when the passion died their relationship would as well. Was confirmation of her fears enough to help her build a wall around her heart, one that would withstand the end and allow her to enjoy whatever time they did have together?

Needing to be closer to him to fight the empty ache in her chest
, she transferred her right hand to his shoulder then hooked her right leg over his hip. Through the barrier of their jeans, his erection throbbed, and while his grip on her bottom tightened, hauling her that much closer, the sudden fierce frown on Stephen’s face didn’t scream sex.

H
e rested his forehead on hers. “You’re not the only one afraid, Rach. I want more than this.”

Her heart thumped hard in her chest. What did he want?

She moistened her lips, but before she could ask, he rushed on, “And I know that I’ve pushed you beyond your comfort zone, and I keep pushing. I don’t know how to be any other way. I’m compelled to fit as much as possible into the time we have because I don’t know how long you’ll stick around.”

The last words were a whisper and almost lost to the blood rushing
through her ears like a white water river. Stephen was as afraid of losing her as she was of losing him. Rachel didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Instead, she toyed with the hair at his collar. “It’s definitely been an adventure.”

Stephen
’s sigh blew her hair to tickle her ear. She shivered as he said, “Yeah, it has, but it won’t always be that way. Sometimes I’ll be boring and want to read a book by the fire or watch an old movie or order take-out and stare out the window as the sun sets and the moon rises.”

All of that sounded wonderful to Rachel. Warmth spread through her chest at the thought he pictured her by his side during those times.
Twirling a lock of his silky strands around her index finger, even knowing it was a defensive mechanism, she couldn’t stop herself from teasing him. “And here I thought dating a movie star would be full-time glamour and glitz, movie premieres, restaurant openings, overnight trips to Europe…”

The corner of his mouth quirked upward. “Europe, huh? Is that a request?” Before she could answer,
the smile faded. “But you do see me as more than a movie star, don’t you, Rach?”

She
cupped the side of his face, the five o’clock shadow shading his jaw poking the skin of her palm. Her teasing had brought out more of his insecurities, which only strengthened her feelings for him. “I won’t lie. I can’t.” When his shoulder dropped and the green of his eyes dulled, she hastened to continue, “It’s impossible to forget what your job is, but our careers are part of who we are. Yours has the unfortunate feature of having the world focused on your every move. But beyond that, you’re a kind, caring, and passionate man—a wonderful man.” One she’d be lucky to date as long as he’d have her.

“But?” He stilled as if expecting to hear the
worst and Rachel found she couldn’t do it.

She couldn’t end this whirlwind ride, didn’t really want to, her fears be damned. Shaking her head, she said, “But nothing.”

That goofy grin, the one that left her feeling like the luckiest woman in the world, cracked his stoic demeanor. When he stooped then hoisted her high against his chest, she squealed and wrapped her other leg around his waist, draping her arms over his shoulders as he said, “Just like that first night, but with way more clothes on.”

S
he laughed even as she chastised herself for being foolish, for wanting more time with Stephen despite the inevitable split. Whether caused by her inability to cope with the lifestyle the relationship would demand, the natural growing apart that sometimes occurred, the introduction of another woman—possibly a future co-star of his—or any other number of reasons, a break up would occur. But for once, she wouldn’t go the safe, boring route. That had only resulted in her being stuck in an unhappy relationship or alone; and yes, she’d been happy alone, but she’d like to experience happiness as part of a couple, one that included Stephen.

He carried her through the room,
deeper into the apartment, past another large room for entertaining, a couple of closed doors, and then into his bedroom. As Stephen laid her on the bed, she said, “This place is huge.” It was almost as large as her parents’ four-bedroom ranch-style house.

Working
on the button and zipper to her jeans, he said, “There’s another two bedrooms the other direction down the hall from the front door, so four bedrooms in total.”

Correction, larger than her parents’ house.
When he grabbed the waistband of her jeans then tugged downward, she kicked off her slip-on sandals before raising her hips off the mattress. “Why do you need all the space?”

After h
e whipped off her jeans, he straightened, his gaze fixed on her panties. “Are you wearing the matching bra?”

Her curiosity fled as a
hot flush spilled onto her skin, working its way from her belly outward to her scalp, fingers, and toes. “Yes.”

When she’d dressed, she hadn’t even hesitated to put on the sexy La Perla lingerie. She’d never been a very good liar, not even to herself. Some small part of her had hoped Stephen would
say or do something to convince her to take a risk, and she’d dressed for the eventuality.

“You should finish undressing. Otherwise, your shirt
might end up like those panties I tore.” He grabbed his T-shirt at the back of his neck and tugged it over his head. Her mouth went dry at the ripple of his abs while liquid heat in her core mimicked the movement. Before his shirt landed on the floor, he had his jeans unzipped. “I’m not joking, Rach.”

She shook off the letharg
y created by her rising desire, sat up then grabbed the bottom of her simple V-necked T-shirt and yanked it off. As soon as it cleared her hands, he tackled her. She giggled as he hugged her tight and rolled her toward the center of the king-sized bed.

When they stopped, he was on bottom and she was on top. He released his hold
to fold his arms and hands beneath his head and she sat upright, his hard length nudging her bottom. His gaze danced down her body, lingering at the bra before moving to the panties.

She looked
good, and she knew it. The unusual gray-lavender didn’t wash her skin tone out, but rather softened it somehow, making it luminescent. The ribbons of the panties hit just so on her hips, and the cutout work on the bra offered tantalizing glimpses of flesh. “You have excellent taste, Mr. Raymond.”

He brought his gaze to her face. Desire smoldered in his eyes when they met hers. “I know.”

Her belly did a strange flip flop and she moistened her lips. This was…different. The passion between them had always boiled over quickly, but this was more of a simmer. She’d expected him to continue the attack, but instead it was as if he waited for something, but what?

A wave of self-consciousness squirmed through
her, and she dropped forward to frame his broad shoulders with her arms. Though most of her weight rested on her forearms, her breasts still pushed against his chest. “I guess I should thank you properly for the present.”

The corner of his mouth kicked up
ward. “And what does that entail?”

“Hmm, a kiss at least, I think. Don’t you?”

“Most definitely a kiss.”

Rachel touched her lips to his, lightly at first then with more pressure when he didn’t commandeer control. That was what was different. H
e lay passive beneath her, like he was giving himself to her. She traced her tongue along the seam of his lips and he opened. After she dipped inside, he fenced with her tongue when she demanded then let her explore when she wanted.

He hummed a question, and she broke the kiss.
She smiled against his lips. “Problems?”

Stephen
lifted his hips and nudged her bottom with his erection. “Just the obvious one.”

She slid
her hips lower, nestling his hot, hard length in the valley of her legs. “Better?”

He ro
lled his hips, and she sucked in a sharp breath as the silky lingerie whispered along her folds like the caress of butterfly wings. “Better, yes. Not perfect though.”

Letting her eyes close and her head fall back, s
he slowly rocked herself against his erection. “It feels pretty good to me. Not interested in seeing how many orgasms you can bring me to tonight?”

“Oh, I’m always interested in that.”

She smiled at the raspiness of his voice. He was near the breaking point. If she didn’t satisfy him, would he seize control? When his hands brushed her hips, she opened her eyes and rolled her head to meet his gaze. “But I’d rather be inside you when they happened.”

Moisture dampened her panties. Was it enough to wet his boxer briefs?
No embarrassment accompanied the thought. Until him, she’d never believed she could get this aroused, but then again, she hadn’t been very imaginative. “Condoms?”

“Nightstand drawer.
”

As she levered upward, he grabbed the ribbons to the panties and they slithered undone. He held onto the material,
pulling them away from her body as she crawled across the bed. Goose bumps danced across her skin as the silk caressed her folds. The bed shifted behind her as Stephen changed positions, and she paused, waiting for him to overtake her. When he didn’t, she reached for the drawer and opened it. Inside was a box of condoms and nothing else. “No toys?”