Playing the Part (4 page)

“Why’d you name her Ali?”

He glanced over and caught Piper watching him as he caressed his car, a bemused expression on her face. He considered making up a cooler sounding answer but opted for the truth. “Steve McQueen drove one like this, and he’s my idol. He had Ali McGraw, and so I have my Ali, as well.”

“Good reason.” Piper settled back in the seat. “Is your house as dramatic as this car?”

“It was, but I sold it. I do, however, have a vacation estate in Hawaii.”

“That’s a tough commute.”

“I have a housekeeper who takes care of it for me, and I get over a few times a year.” Mick buckled himself in and leaned over to check her belt as well. He’d had them retrofitted, but in the tight space it could get tricky to fasten them properly. The action required him to lean in close and touch the sexy curve of her hip. Her body was warm against the skin of his hands, her hair falling forward to glide against his cheek while the sweet scent of her perfume filled his lungs. Shit, he was in big trouble.

The intimacy in dark, close quarters of the vehicle interior was dangerous. Mick was hyper aware of every sound, every scent, every move. The swoosh of the silky fabric of her skirt as she moved in her seat, the way her breasts rose and fell with her rapid breathing, the loud, frantic tattoo of his heartbeat in his ears.

The river of arousal swirling between them was a powerful current, and suddenly he knew why so many people were caught in the undertow and ended up in the backseat in a sweaty tangle of arms and legs. When Piper looked up and brought her lips within kissing distance, he held his breath, inching closer to close the gap and drown in her once again.

A knock on the door by the valet interrupted his freefall into insanity and reminded him that he was in public, in front of a busy restaurant, and about to violate the pact he’d just made. All in full view of the paparazzi aiming their cameras at them right now.

Piper hadn’t spotted them, the restaurant security keeping them away from the car, but these days, distance wasn’t any big deal so long as one had a telephoto lens. With a low curse, he released the brake, trying to remember what they were talking about.

Oh yeah, his living arrangements. Nice, neutral topic.

“About six months ago I sold my house and moved in with my best friend, Lincoln.” He easily navigated the heavy Hollywood traffic, took a few quick right and left turns, making sure the paparazzi weren’t following, then settled back to turn up the music playing on his iPod.
Maroon 5—total sex soundtrack
. With a sigh at how the universe was screwing with him, he rotated to the next song, something with a little dance edge and not so much of the sensual groove. “My neighborhood was taken over by the baby stroller crowd who didn’t appreciate my after-hours poolside entertainment. I’m still looking for something that doesn’t come with a curfew.”

Piper laughed, leaning back against the leather, clearly enjoying the heated seat upgrade he’d had installed. She closed her eyes and asked, “Who’s your best friend?”

“Lincoln St. John.” Mick braced himself for what always came next. The ladies
loved
Linc.

“Oh my God. I love his music. He’s so talented, so emotional, and
that voice
.” She practically oozed down in the seat, and he wanted to chuck.

“Don’t delude yourself, sweetheart. He’s a horny, mouth-breathing knuckle-dragger like the rest of us.” He ignored her snort of laughter and continued to break all of her delusions as he wove in and out of traffic. “Don’t be fooled by the soulful eyes, the tattoos, and the hair.”

“Well, he does have terrific hair.”

“Whatever.”

“So if music is the chick magnet, why acting?”

He shrugged. “Family business.”

“Of course. Your dad.”

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and pushed her glasses up on her nose, the movement drawing his attention from the road for a moment. Those glasses made him crazy. He couldn’t stop thinking about how much he wanted to take them off, along with every stitch of clothing on her delectable little body.

She was oblivious to his agony just across the width of the car.

“So, did your dad get you into acting?” she asked, turning slightly to watch him.

“He didn’t
stop
me.” Mick had been in front of the camera since he was a kid, beaten the “curse of the child star,” and avoided ending up in the morgue or in a mug shot. It was a miracle, considering how he spent most of his childhood on a movie set, in France with his mom, or raised by an indifferent babysitter when his dad was in between wives. “I was bitten by the bug and never looked back.”

He turned into the gated complex the studio used to put up most of their VIPs. The villas were nice: Spanish-style and luxurious. Piper waved to the guard and directed him to a spot in front of one of the units, where he parked and cut the engine.

And waited.

He stared straight ahead, hands remaining on the wheel as he cataloged all the reasons why jumping his passenger was a really stupid idea. The car wasn’t spacious, and right now it felt like one of those tiny clown cars at the circus. But he was pretty sure when he opened the door, the only thing tumbling out would be the lust pouring off him in waves.

“Um…what’s going on with this movie?” Piper unlocked her seat belt, her voice low in the semidarkness. “I spent the afternoon watching you own the screen in the John Dark movies, and I can’t imagine you having trouble pulling off the role of Chance.”

He ran a hand over his jaw, the stubble rasping against his palm. “If I knew, I’d fix it.”

“As an actor, aren’t you supposed to tap into your own experiences?”

“I don’t have any.”

“Come on. Just think about a time when you’ve been in love. The first time you met a woman you cared about. Tap into that, and you should be fine. That’s what I did when I wrote the book.”

“I’ve never been in love.”

Piper peered at him in the lowlight, and he shrugged. Her face was partially in shadow, but he could see the questions stewing in her brain just behind the cute little furrow between her eyes.

“Never?”

“Nope.”

“But—” Piper inched over a bit in her seat, leaning over the center console, which gave him a birds-eye view of the soft curve of her breasts peeking over the edge of her top. “But you’ve been with so many women!”

“That’s sex. Not love.” Mick turned to fully face her, his arm brushing hers. Electricity practically sparked between them in an arc. He should lower the convertible roof and let out some of the heat burning him alive. He forced his brain to focus on the current conversation, a confession slipping out before he could stop it. “I thought I was in love once.”

“What happened?”

“She slept with my dad.”

Piper gasped, closing her hand over his own, fingers twining together with an ease that hitched his breath for a moment. “Your dad slept with your girlfriend?”

“Yeah, well, that’s my dad.”

“That’s totally screwed up.”

“Since I was seven years old, I’ve spent more time pretending to be other people than I’ve been myself. My life isn’t exactly normal.”

“Okay. Fair enough.”

She bit her lip and Mick pulled his eyes away before he closed the distance and claimed that plump morsel with his own mouth.

“Do you talk to your dad?” she asked.

“Yeah, we’re actually pretty tight.” At her incredulous look, he let out a laugh. Apparently, this wasn’t the usual thing in wherever her Deep South, happy suburban childhood took place. Maybe not even in the Big Apple, where he knew she lived.
Welcome to Hollywood
. Love wasn’t for people like him. Besides, he had no problem finding a willing partner when he needed to let off a little steam. Why mess up his life by throwing a relationship into the mix? “He’s my dad. He’s never been able to keep it in his pants.”

Her only response was a firm squeeze of his hand, and he looked down to where his fingers linked with hers. She followed him when he tugged her closer, hormones and naked desire overriding his earlier decision—and hers, apparently. Her hair brushed against his lips just before he pressed a tender kiss against the soft skin of her temple. She nuzzled him back.
Mercy
.

Piper raised her face, her tongue gliding along her lower lip, leaving it glossy and inviting. Her dark eyes were huge, drinking in every detail of whatever she saw in his face. She opened her mouth to speak, gave a little shake of her head, and then shocked him to his core by closing the distance between them.

Mick’s first reaction was to reel backward and make sure the work thing was laying flat. But who was he kidding? He was one big walking “id,” and Piper James was beautiful, smart, funny, and kissed him like a porn star. Game over.

He angled up over the center console, weaving his hands roughly in her hair as he pressed her back against her seat. She moaned under his assault, opening up to allow him to sweep in and taste the sweet, tender recesses of her mouth. She dug her hands into his shoulders, twisting the material of his shirt and holding him captive against her body. Their kisses were rough, hungry, forcing them to take ragged breaths between the bruising press of lips and tongues.

Mick sucked air into his tight lungs and lowered his head to dive back in. Piper’s hands pressed firmly against his chest as she pushed him away with determined strength.

“What…” Mick struggled up from the haze of lust to figure why they’d stopped when the good stuff was just beginning. In shock, he watched as Piper climbed over the center console, then reached down to release the lever and push the seat back as she straddled his body.

With a sensuous half smile on her lips, she gazed down on him from her vantage point, then reached up and removed her glasses, tossing them in her seat while she shook out the silky waves of her hair. It was as if she’d opened up his brain, lifted out his kinky little librarian fantasy, and decided to give him the
Dirty Harry
treatment and make his day.

“What are we doing?” he choked out.

Piper smiled a little wider, then leaned down whisper against his mouth, “Giving you something to use on set tomorrow.”

Chapter Three

She was only human.

Piper looked down on the gorgeous, tousled, sexy man sprawled under her in the front seat of this way-too-small car. Mick’s eyes were dark—intense and tracking every movement she made. His chest rose in time with the harsh pants erupting from his mouth, the breaths ragged and loud in the silence stretching between them. His hands clenched in fists at his side, his body radiating the tension ricocheting around this car—he was waiting on her signal.

She gave him one.

Bypassing the temptation of his mouth, she zeroed in on the delicious expanse of his neck. The bristly stubble of his five-o’clock shadow scraped the tender inner part of her lip as she dragged her mouth over his skin, tasting the musky sweetness, the sharp tang of his arousal. Unable to help herself, she zeroed in on the pulse pounding just under his skin and took a little nip. Nothing too hard. Nothing to leave a mark. But damn, it got the reaction she wanted.

Mick snaked one hand around her waist, anchoring her against the hard, muscled expanse of his chest and the even harder bulge in his jeans. He slid the other hand up her back, tracing her spine and leaving a trail of tingly shivers in its wake before he wove his fingers into the hair at her nape. A tug, perfectly balanced between pleasure and pain, brought her mouth within kissing distance.

If he had eased into his possession of her desire, she might have second-guessed the decision to indulge in this moment, but he offered no mercy, annihilating her common sense with the destructive focus of one of his action movie roles. He was a world-class kisser, the combination of soft lips, firm strokes of tongue, and the sharp edge of his teeth all living up to the fantasies of his millions of fans.

“Let’s take this inside,” Mick murmured against her mouth.

“No. Here.” Her naughty side was coming out. She’d already checked—Mick had pulled into one of the secluded parking spots. No one would see.

Mick ceased the fevered mapping of her body, stopping just shy of her aching breasts, and Piper groaned in protest. He pulled back, his eyes dark and glittering under the meager lamplight. Full of questions. She lifted up, bracing her arms against the backseat on either side of his head.

She didn’t need to think about this. She’d made her decision. No, she needed Mick to live up to his reputation—in and out, no strings, no problems. She lowered her head, intending to restart the party.

Mick had other ideas. “If I were a good boy,” he said, “I’d point out that we’re in public.”

“We both know you aren’t that good.”

Mick laughed, the low rumble expanding his chest to brush against Piper’s overly sensitized nipples. She gasped at the shock of pleasure racing through her body, barely catching the moan as she bit into her bottom lip.

“What are the ground rules, chief?” he asked.

“We fuck each other until I leave. No press. No publicity. Our secret.”

Mick skimmed his mouth over the line of her jaw, ending his exploration with a moist kiss just under her ear.
Seriously, was there a woman who didn’t love that?
Piper shivered at the warm press of his lips, digging her fingers into the buttery soft leather of the seats.

She gasped as he rounded her breast and squeezed gently. Her already-heavy sex clenched with the rush of arousal, her knees wobbly under the dual onslaught of acute pleasure and the strain of supporting a body leaden with desire.

“You make me feel cheap,” he said.

“You won’t care in a few minutes.”

“I don’t think I care now.” Mick grinned, his smile sexy, seductive, and overlaid with a perfect touch of wicked to make her pulse race. His touch shifted on her breast, nimble fingers playing with her nipple, the touch dragging the smile off her face as she let out a long, low moan.

Mick’s smile faded, and he ground up against her core, letting her ride the hard length of his erection.

Sweeping in, she kissed him—he allowed her to control the kiss, focusing his efforts on making her crazy by tugging down the neckline of her top and shoving aside her bra. The first roll of her nipple between his callused fingers set off a series of fireworks in her brain, overriding any coherent thought.

Reeling from the shock of physical bliss, Piper barely registered his shift beneath her. But when the wet heat of his mouth closed over her nipple, the universe suddenly narrowed down to this car. To his mouth. To the wet heat of his tongue against her skin. She cried out with the rush of heat and arousal to her sex.

“Sensitive breasts.” Mick nuzzled across her skin to flick a velvet rough tongue against the twin peak. “I love that.”

“You’ll love this more,” she panted, fumbling with his belt and button fly and shoving his pants down as best she could. She freed the thick length of him, and the windows fogged up.

“Oh hell,” Mick groaned against the hollow between her breasts. He thrust his hips upward, silently encouraging her to stroke.

She was happy to oblige.

It was amazing, this feeling of power over him. He was vocal, gasping with each upstroke, his sounds becoming more desperate as she tightened her grip on his cock.

The heat was building between her legs, and with no way to relieve the pressure her last remaining synapse centered on one thought. “Inside me. Now.”

Mick didn’t hesitate.

He hefted himself up, rooted around in the glove compartment, and with a sound of triumph, produced a string of foil-covered packets. His teeth flashed white in the gloom, and she giggled at his accompanying eyebrow waggle.

“So, you really
were
a Boy Scout,” she mused. She couldn’t wait to feel him stretch her, fill her.

Mick sucked in a breath at her touch, recovering just enough to grin and say, “No, but I played one on TV.”

She giggled, then hiked up her skirt and shimmied out of her panties, throwing them over her shoulder and into the general vicinity of the vacant passenger seat. Mick had been busy, and his erection was covered and begging for attention. The only thing left to do was the fun part. Rising up on her knees, she positioned herself over him, took a deep breath, and lowered herself down in one swift stroke.

She saw stars.
It feels so good, I’ve gone blind.

“Piper.” Mick’s voice was a tight whisper. “Open your eyes.”

She blinked, his face slowly coming back into focus, the deep green of his eyes the first thing she saw. “I saw stars there for a moment.”

“Well, you
are
in Hollywood.” His mouth twisted into a lopsided grin that she wiped away with the first rise and slow glide down his length.

“Oh yes,” he groaned.

They began slowly, still new to each other, but once they hit their stride, hot, short breaths punctuated their soft moans. Mick lowered his head and added the heat of his mouth to the inner friction already making her crazy. Piper watched his mouth on her breast as she clutched the leather seat behind his head with one hand while the other gripped Mick’s hard chest in an effort to ground herself in this time and place.

The tension coiling in her belly warmed to a liquid lava and slid farther down, filling her sex with white-hot pressure that resounded in her ears in a thumping rhythm.

“Piper,” Mick ground out. His mouth ran along her skin, claiming her lips in a deep, wet kiss that went on and on, forcing them to breathe heavily through their noses in order to remain locked together. Abruptly, he broke it off, his hand at her back, forcing her down to lean forehead to forehead. Green eyes bore into hers, pupils blown like an addict. “Not long…”

“Yes.” Piper rode him harder, faster. The faint squeak of the leather seat punctuated his thrusts up into her body. He was big, filling her, taking her to the edge quickly. She was going to come without having to touch her clit, with no fantasy playing in the back of her mind to offset the limitations of her partner. Mick was enough. All she needed.

“Piper. You feel so good. Hot, tight…” Mick’s breath was hot against the skin of her neck, cupping her ass with his hands, squeezing her, pressing her down onto his length. He pressed his fingers into her flesh, and the blazing image of his fingerprints in bruised relief on her skin made her moan. She wanted his mark, needed to know that there would be something tangible left of this insanity.

“Mick. Please.” She heard her voice, the plea in its tone, even as she was unsure what she was begging for.

But Mick knew.

He slowed his thrusts, sliding one hand up her back to press her against him. At this angle, her swollen, sensitive nipples grazed the hair on his chest, the crinkly-soft texture shooting sparks down her belly to the place where they were joined. Her clit rubbed against his pelvic bone with each movement, and she began the slow slide into the liquid gold of her orgasm.

“Look at me,” Mick demanded, his voice dark and rough and so unlike his usual controlled tone. She opened her eyes, so close to his face their breath mingled on each other’s lips, the space between them almost nonexistent.

“Mick—”

He continued the slow thrusts up into her body, the tempo driving her crazy, keeping her on the edge of her release. The bliss was shimmering on the boundary of this world, which now consisted only of the two of them, in the heated confines of this car, the air redolent with sex, desire, and passion.

“I knew…” he said, his words in perfect cadence with the slow glide in and out, filing her after leaving her aching and empty, “the minute I saw you, I knew I had to have you.”

“Yes.” Piper took over the rhythm, faster, faster. She needed relief, was dying to see Mick come. He was gorgeous. The dim light from the streetlamps cast deep shadows on his dark skin, highlighting the angular bone structure and hard edges of his face. Such a contrast to his kiss-swollen lips and lust-softened eyes. “I want to see you come.”

“You first,” Mick said, punctuating the point with a lick to her bottom lip and the glide of his hand down her belly until he found her clit. It didn’t take long—a press of his thumb against her clit, a whisper of a caress, and she was slammed with pleasure. Skin tingling and supersensitive as her orgasm detonated and shattered all coherent thought. It was like one of the scenes in his movies—the initial charge devastating in the best possible way and the rolling succession of secondary explosions pushing her higher and higher.

A rumble started low in his chest and escaped as he arched his neck, exposing the sexy expanse of skin. His eyes shut briefly, and when they opened, the lust roiling in the dark green depths riveted her to the spot as she watched as he rode out his own orgasm.

Damn, he was beautiful. Exposing all of his need to her without embarrassment or guile. She would never erase this imprint from her mind.

Time passed in the dark, heated interior of the car. Piper leaned against Mick, listening to the gradual slowdown of his breathing, letting the gentle slide of his hands over her back keep her anchored there with him, his still half-hard cock buried inside her. She was floaty, relaxed, buzzing with the endorphins provided by the orgasm of the century.

“Why don’t we take this inside?” His voice was a low murmur, felt against the skin of her shoulder where his mouth was.

Tension edged up her spine. She unwound herself from him, careful to mind the position of arms, legs, and important man parts, and landed with a soft thud against the leather of the passenger seat. She groped around the floorboards, locating her panties, then shoved them in her purse.

Her hands were shaking a little, and while she wanted to blame it on the post-sex adrenaline buzz, that wasn’t the cause. She didn’t like it one little bit the way her stomach did the shimmy when Mick suggested going for round two. Mick was dangerous territory. The sex freaked her out a little, and she needed to make sure this stayed what it was. Purely physical. That was all.

“I take it from the silence coming from your side of the car that I’m not invited inside for a nightcap?” Mick asked, busy getting his clothes straight.

“No sleeping over.”

“What?”

“No staying the night.”

“Wait.” He reached across the console and grabbed her arm. Nothing hard or pushy, but enough pressure to make her stop what she was doing and look at him. He didn’t look mad—more curious and amused, but not angry. “So I
can
come in. I can fuck you again, but I can’t sleep over?”

“Yes.”

“Does that mean I don’t have to deal with the morning after wake-up call? I don’t have to make you breakfast or save you hot water in the shower?”

“Exactly.”

“If you tell me I don’t have to call you afterward, I might just fall in love.” Mick let out a laugh as he fastened up the last of his buttons. He leaned over the console, reaching out again to snag her behind the neck and pull her close. His mouth was firm, wet, and altogether too possessive for a temporary lover. But she let it go deeper, tongues slick and needy against each other before they broke apart, breathless and dazed.

“You won’t regret this. I’ll make you come all night,” Mick purred.

Piper leaned forward, forehead briefly resting against Mick’s as she pondered his suggestion. He smelled delicious. A combination of his unique, sharp spice, sweat, and sex. Oh hell, she’d gone a bridge too far this time. He was too tempting. Too much the sexy, bad rake of a man she liked best. Too much like Antonio. But she was going to do it anyway.

Because unlike Antonio, Mick would never want a relationship. And that meant he’d never humiliate her in public by dumping her.

Just the way she wanted.

Piper kissed him, a fierce, deep joining that was over before either of them could take it further.

“You’ve got a few hours. Make them count.”