Just a Summer Fling (16 page)

Sixteen

BEING AT THE
cabin was like being in another world. Ashley tried to fit the experience into the real/unreal pattern they’d been worrying about, but couldn’t make it work. It was real, she was sure of that. The bugs buzzing outside the window screen, the heat of the morning promising a muggy afternoon with no air conditioning and no convenient lake or swimming pool for cooling off, the smell of the manure pile she’d noticed the night before when they’d gone down to visit the horses. That was all real.

But the way she felt? Like a fairy-tale princess who’d found her way to a hidden kingdom where no one could ever find her? There was no palace and no fancy gowns, but there were trusty steeds and a dog that may as well have been designed by Disney, with all her mock ferociousness and secret snuggling. Maybe Ashley hadn’t slayed a dragon, but she’d tamed a demon dog, and surely that was something worth celebration.

Most of all, of course, there was Josh. She couldn’t really fit him into her real or unreal classifications, either. The bruises on his body, and the reason he’d gotten them? Too real, and too tawdry for a fairy tale. But the warmth of his smile? It seemed unreal. The way her body reacted to his touch, her ears to his voice, her nose to his scent—it was too powerful, beyond anything she’d ever felt before.

He stirred, his arm tightening around her and then relaxing, and she cautiously turned her head, then rolled over onto her back, keeping his arm tucked under the side of her body that was farthest from him. He had to lean forward to let her move and ended up hovering over her, looking down with a bemused expression as if he wasn’t sure how he felt about what she was trying to engineer. “I just dozed,” she said confidently. “Not a deep sleep. No morning breath to worry about.”

He moved his jaws and she could imagine his tongue roaming around his mouth, exploring and assessing. “You want me to go brush my teeth?”

“No. I want you to kiss me.”

“You’ve got me all self-conscious now,” he started, but she wrapped her hand around the back of his neck and pulled herself up until her mouth found his, and whatever shyness he’d been experiencing was gone as she slipped her tongue between his unresisting lips and tasted him for herself.

“Not bad at all,” she decided. “You must take good care of your teeth.”

“I floss every day,” he said, and then he was kissing her again, pressing her down into the mattress as he shifted over on top of her. He had one leg between hers, taking most of his weight, and his arms carried a lot of the rest, but he was a big man and even a fraction of his weight was enough for her to notice. It made her feel not trapped, but safe. Cherished rather than imprisoned.

When his lips left her mouth, working their way along her jaw and down to her neck, her body arched involuntarily, pushing up into him, demanding more of whatever he had to give. She’d never been so inflamed by a kiss, and when he nibbled and kissed his way down to her breast, pushing her tank top down so he could suck her nipple through the thin fabric of her bra, she was pretty sure she was going to explode from just that sensation.

“Too many clothes,” she gasped, and she felt wanton until he looked up at her and she saw his eyes, already dark with excitement and desire. He pulled off his shirt with the same casual ease he’d shown the other night at the pond, then reached down and slid his hands under her top with the care she’d expect of someone unwrapping a delicate treasure.

But she was too distracted by the unnatural colors on his side to pay much attention to his hands. “Oh, Josh,” she whispered, trailing her fingers down over the bruises. She just ghosted over them, feeling his skin pebble and tighten beneath her touch. “We don’t have to do anything. You must be really sore.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said firmly, then grinned at her before adding, “I feel good. Really, really good.”

Well, she wasn’t sure about that, but decided not to argue. Instead, she shoved him over onto his back and saw him wince as he landed but then smile encouragingly. “I’m good,” he said again, and she threw a leg over his so she was straddling him. He looked up at her with frank, honest appreciation, and she rewarded him by pulling her tank top up and over her head, one tantalizing inch at a time. Tantalizing for him, but for her as well. She wanted to be naked, wanted him inside her, and wasn’t quite sure why they were stretching it out. Surely there would be time for long, lazy mornings down the road? Couldn’t their first time be fast and desperate?

She pulled her top the rest of the way off her head with a quick tug and reached behind her to unhook her bra. Josh caught her hands and held them still for a moment, and she tried to read his thoughts. He wanted it slow, she realized. And then he released her hands and she knew that he was giving in. He’d give her what she wanted, do things her way, even though he wanted something else.

“You think this is a one-time deal,” she said as the thought came to her. “You want to make it last because we may not do it again.”

He looked away from her, focusing on some spot on the ceiling, and sighed. “It’s an uncertain world. That’s all.”

“No, that’s
not
all!” She lifted her hips up and shifted her weight forward so she could push down on his shoulders, pinning him with all her might. She knew he could still get up if he tried, but at least she’d make it crystal clear that she wanted him to stay put. “What the hell, Josh? You still think I’m being casual about this?”

“You’re not the only person involved, you know. Maybe I’ll decide it’s not worth the trouble.”

“Bullshit. I mean, if this was a wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am quick fuck, fair enough, maybe you would. But taking it slow? Treating it like it’s a . . . like a holy ritual or something? No, that’s not because you think it might not be worth the trouble.”

“Depends how you define trouble, I guess.”

Well, that was cryptic. And he didn’t seem inclined to explain himself, either. “I’m here, Josh,” she said quietly. “I’m right here.”

He looked at her and slowly nodded. “Yeah. You are.”

Then he twisted around and kissed her, and he wasn’t taking his time anymore. His lips were hard and demanding, his tongue twining around hers ferociously. He pulled her to him and when she tried to brace herself so she wouldn’t crush his bruises he tugged her in tighter. Her bra disappeared like
magic and they were skin to skin, their chests heaving as they both gasped for air between kisses. He flipped them over and peeled her underwear away at the same time he tugged off her jeans, and this was what she’d wanted. Hard and fast, all desire and desperation. He shuffled to the side just long enough to drop his own jeans and underwear and grab a foil packet out of the nightstand.

This was what she’d wanted, but now she wanted to slow it down. Oh, not because her body wasn’t ready. She was wet and aching for him. But he was so beautiful, so raw and naturally perfect, and she wanted to stare at him and memorize him. But then he was touching her again, his mouth hot as it travelled down her body, and she decided she could stare at him some other time. Maybe when he was asleep. Sometime when his mouth wasn’t . . . Oh. When his mouth wasn’t being put to such good use.

She let herself get lost in the sensations. The warmth of his tongue and his lips, the scratch of his stubble against her thighs, and then his strong fingers slipping inside her, finding the perfect spot so he was tantalizing her from inside and out. She could feel her climax building and tried to hold it off so she could enjoy it all just a little bit longer, but there was no denying his insistent mouth. She let herself go with a ragged cry, arching into him, finding him strong and gentle as he worked her through.

He kissed his way back up her body and smiled when he reached her mouth. “You’d better stick around for a while, because I want to be able to do that a lot more times.”

She grinned at him and said, “I wouldn’t argue,” before kissing him.

*   *   *

SHE
was so beautiful. Inside and out, body and soul, she was strong and beautiful and perfect. He had no idea how the universe had allowed him to spend even this tiny moment
with her, but he was past the stage where he was asking any questions.

He was pretty much past the point of thinking coherently about anything. He had enough presence of mind to find the condom, and she mercifully took care of rolling it onto him, and that was it. His brain shut off, leaving his body to do what it wanted. She moaned and lifted to meet his first thrust and he rocked back so he was sitting on his heels, dragging her warm, responsive body with him. Without his weight on her she was free to move however she wanted, and he soon found the angle that had her writhing and gasping, her pleasure almost more significant than his own as he worked toward his climax. So beautiful, so lithe, so uninhibited and natural. She hooked her heels around his back and pulled him in harder and faster, and he added “greedy” to his list of her perfections.

He knew he should take his mind away, start thinking about sports scores or math problems or ways to fight mold in damp basements, but he couldn’t make himself do it. He couldn’t think of anything but her, and if that meant he wouldn’t last as long as he should, it could be one more item to add to his long list of flaws. “Come on, Ash,” he urged, although he wasn’t quite sure what it was he wanted her to do. “Come on, come on.” His brain wasn’t working, he had no control over his mouth and very little over the rest of his body. All he could do was move, drive into her warmth, feel her rising to meet him, and finally, blessedly, feel her shudder and clench around him as she threw her head back and found her release. He followed her, chased her, and finally joined her in a warm, spent tangle of sweaty limbs and smiling mouths.

“I want to do all of that again,” Ashley said, burrowing her face into Josh’s neck.

“Not . . . not immediately, right?” He could feel her lips curve into a smile.

“As soon as possible,” she whispered, and she kissed him, then nipped a little along his collarbone.

He grinned at her and let his head flop back onto the pillow, ignoring the complaints from his bruises. He wasn’t going to think about the end of things, not while he was still having so much fun with the beginning.

Seventeen

THEY STAYED IN
bed all day. Well, there were brief excursions to the kitchen for food, and to the bathroom for a shared shower, and finally down to the barn to check on the horses before it got dark.

They’d just returned from that trip when the phone rang. Josh looked at it reluctantly, then sighed and reached for the handset.

“If it’s bad news,” Ashley said, “hang up on them.”

He grinned at her, then listened to the caller and frowned. “Wait a second,” he said, and put his hand over the mouthpiece. “Someone named Adam Wagner. Says he’s your manager? He says it’s important that he talk to you, and Charlotte told him where to find you.”

Ashley made a face. She didn’t want to talk to her manager. She didn’t want to think about her manager, or her career, or anything other than the gorgeous man standing in front of her, holding the phone out with a questioning look on his face.

“Want me to take a message?”

“No,” Ashley said reluctantly. Adam really had seemed to understand that she needed some time to recharge, and Charlotte certainly wouldn’t be giving Josh’s number to anyone if there wasn’t an excellent reason for it. So she reached out, took the phone from Josh, then lifted it and said, “Adam. Hi. What’s up?”

“How’s your vacation going, Ashley? Making new friends?” The question was too pointed to be casual.

“Why do you ask?” she said carefully.

“I just got a call from TMZ—the same parasites who broke the news about Derek’s little friend. Apparently they’ve got some new photos.”

“Of Derek?” Ashley asked. But the tightness in her stomach wasn’t fooled by her attempted optimism.

“No, Ashley, not of Derek. They’ve got shots of David McArthur going after some guy with a golf club. And they’ve got you leaving the place with the beat-up guy, maybe driving his truck?” Adam paused to let her catch up, then added, “And of course they got the backstory from whoever sold them the pictures. I think they’re just going with a lot of ‘rumored’ and ‘alleged’ right now, but they’ll be looking for confirmation.”

Ashley wanted to hang up the phone and pretend it wasn’t happening. She wanted to go back to bed with Josh and forget all about L.A. and gossip websites and anyone named McArthur. But she was supposed to be a responsible adult, so she said, “It’s not that bad, is it? I mean . . .” She frowned. It wasn’t that bad for her. So she was involved with someone who used to be involved with Jasmine McArthur. Not a big deal. But for Josh? She tried not to look at him as she asked, “Is the story already out? Already posted?”

“Not the last time I checked. But it’ll be a matter of minutes, probably. They were ready to go when they called me for your comment.”

“I don’t think I want to comment, do I?”

“I told them you were on vacation and unreachable.”

“Good. Thanks.” She was vaguely aware of Josh, puttering around in the kitchen, unaware that his indiscretions were about to be splashed all over the Internet. She stepped out onto the porch and whispered, “There’s no way to stop it, is there? I mean . . . if I gave them something else? It’s not that big of a story. Just a little bit of gossip for them. But for people up here . . .”

“What else do you have to give? They don’t want in-depth stories or interviews or anything, Ashley. And even if they did, it would hurt your career if you were seen to be working with them.”

“My career can take care of itself.”

“You think that’s how it works, do you?”

She sighed. “I know you do a lot, Adam. I know you work hard. I just don’t want an innocent person dragged into our stupid celebrity bullshit.”

“Well, based on the stories I heard, I don’t know that ‘innocent’ is the right word.”

“Private,” Ashley said fiercely. “A
private
person, not someone working in the industry and playing the game. There must be something we can do.”

There was a long pause, and then Adam said, “I’m sorry, Ash. I just hit refresh, and the post is there. Several pictures, and enough text to make the reason for the attack clear.”

“This is my fault,” she said softly. “Isn’t it? If it was just the McArthurs . . . Jasmine used to act, but she’s been out of the spotlight for a decade at least. And he’s a producer. Hollywood people care about him, but the people who read that site? They’d barely recognize him. This got publicized because of me. Right?”

Adam didn’t answer right away, but finally said, “Probably. Yeah. You know the game, Ash.”

She did. She didn’t only know the game, she played it,
using the media to keep her face in front of moviegoers and build publicity for her projects. This little invasion was nothing to her, but she was pretty sure it was going to be something big for Josh.

She hung up the phone and wandered back into the house. Josh was standing at the kitchen counter, cutting a ripe tomato, but he turned and faced her when she arrived. “Everything okay?”

She knew she had to tell him, but she didn’t want to do it yet. She wanted to keep things simple and happy for just a little bit longer, long enough to convince him she was worth all the trouble she was going to cause. “Just work stuff.”

“All the stuff you were trying to get away from when you came up here,” he said sympathetically.

He was right. She’d wanted a vacation from all this. Needed a vacation. But he was wrong, too. “I wasn’t running away. I mean, I wanted a break, but I love my job. The acting part of it, at least. Getting to be so many different people, exploring so many different lives. I really do love the acting. All the rest of it . . . you were right, that night in the bar, that putting up with assholes shouldn’t be part of anyone’s job. But it’s kind of part of mine, and that’s what I needed a break from. But mostly, I was running
to
somewhere. I mean, maybe I was looking for an escape when I first came, but I stayed because I love it here.”

He nodded as if he appreciated her words. “You should get a job with the tourism department.”

“Oh yeah? Any perks with that job? Maybe a visit from a representative of the Vermont hospitality commission?”

“I don’t think that’s a real thing,” he said with a smile.

“Oh. How disappointing.” This was more like it. Much better to stay in the moment and enjoy herself with Josh than to worry about things she couldn’t control. “I guess private citizens need to step in and fill a gap like that, huh? Everyone has to do their part to make the tourists feel welcome?”

“There’s so many different ways to make ‘fill a gap’ sound dirty, I don’t think I can pick just one of them.” He stepped forward and stretched his arms around her, resting both of his hands at the small of her back. “But I’m definitely willing to do my part.”

His hands slipped lower, cradling her ass and lifting her like she weighed nothing, and she wrapped her legs around him and held on tight. “Take me to bed and show me your natural wonders,” she ordered.

“I’ll make you see stars,” he promised, and he carried her to the bedroom.

*   *   *

MORNING
came. Josh woke around dawn and lay there watching Ashley sleep as the room grew brighter and brighter. He shifted his body to shade her eyes from the direct rays of the sun so she wouldn’t be wakened. He was only delaying the inevitable, but that was hardly a new behavior for him.

When she finally stirred, he watched her wake up, saw her disorientation, saw her remember where she was and who she was with, and saw her smile.

It made it all worthwhile. Right there, right then, she was happy to be with him. She didn’t care that the cabin was small and a bit ragged, didn’t care that he was battered and bruised. She was happy.

“I’ll get coffee,” he whispered, and slipped out of bed before she could protest. It was stupid, he knew, but he needed a moment on his own, a bit of time to process and appreciate the wonder of having her in his bed. So he pulled on a pair of sweatpants that he’d been wearing the day before and headed to the kitchen. When he’d made the coffee and fixed her mug the way she liked it he returned to the bedroom and she was sitting up, wearing his T-shirt, her hair messy and perfect.

She smiled at him. “I don’t know if I want coffee,” she said quietly. “It’ll wake me up, and I don’t think I want to wake up.”

“You can sleep more.” He thought about it. Maybe he could crawl back into bed with her. Sure, he had work to do, lots of it, but this was absolutely a special occasion. Maybe he could tell himself he was still too sore to do any work. None of the houses he looked after were actually on fire or anything, and if the McArthurs carried through on their threats, his list of projects was probably about to get a lot shorter.

“No,” she said resolutely, reaching for the mug. “I need to get in gear. Charlotte’s going back to L.A. later this week and we want to get some more work done on the script before she goes. And . . . I need to talk to you about something.”

He didn’t want to hear the last part of that. Didn’t want to wonder what she needed to talk about. So he said, “Charlotte’s going back? Does Kevin know?”

Ashley shrugged. “I guess so. Probably. I don’t think it’s a secret.”

Not a secret. Just not a big deal. Charlotte was leaving. No drama, no need for alarm. Her real life was calling, so obviously she had to respond. He made his voice level when he asked, “What do you want for breakfast?”

“After yesterday’s feast? I guess just coffee.” She didn’t sound regretful, just matter-of-fact. “I don’t know what body type they’re looking for on the Western, but I figure I’d better go in at my fighting weight, and they can always tell me to gain if they want. If I go in fat, they might assume I’m undisciplined.”

He nodded again. He didn’t know a thing about Hollywood expectations, but obviously she did, and she had a plan for how to meet them. She’d been with him for one day and was already starting to work her way back home. He wasn’t surprised, exactly. But he’d hoped he’d have a little longer.

“I’m going to shower,” he said. “If you change your mind
and want some fruit or something, help yourself to whatever’s in the kitchen.”

She smiled at him and stretched languorously, but he made himself look away from the way her breasts arched against the thin fabric of his shirt. Then he let himself look back. One more memory to torture himself with after it was all over. But she saw him watching, grinned wickedly, and looked down at herself. “Oh, this is your shirt, isn’t it? I should return it . . . or maybe you should come get it.”

Damn it. His feet were moving before his brain even kicked into gear, but who was he kidding? His brain wasn’t going to get in the way of this, not anymore. He crawled up the bed, bracketing her quilt-covered body with his arms and legs. His senses seemed enhanced and he could smell not only her coffee but the sweet sugar in it; not only her natural fragrance but the scent of her growing excitement. The quilt was softer than he’d ever noticed, and when he got past it and slid his hands under her shirt, her skin was so warm he wondered if she might be fevered.

“You’re okay?” he whispered as his lips hovered over hers.

Her eyes were wide. “A hell of a lot better than that.”

His control was gone. This was going to end, but right now, he had her. She was in his bed, in his shirt, at least for another couple of seconds, and he was going to take advantage.

He pulled the front of the shirt up over her head, lowering his mouth to her breasts almost absently as he dealt with the fabric behind her back. Not taking it right off, but leaving her arms in the sleeves, then knotting the fabric in the middle tight enough that her wrists were bound. Enough slack so that she could bring her hands to either side of her body—he didn’t want her to be uncomfortable, lying on her hands. He just wanted her to stay there with him, at least for a while. She’d be leaving soon enough.

But not right then, he reminded himself. Right then, he had an incredible woman in his bed, and her eyes had widened when he’d restrained her arms, the same way she’d responded the night before when he’d held her wrists. Not a sign of anything, he reminded himself. They were on compatible sides of the same minor kink: it didn’t mean they were fated to be together forever. But it damn well meant they could have fun right then.