Starstruck (14 page)

Sam rose off her deck chair, wrapping her red sarong
around her waist. “Want a drink? I’m thirsty.”

“Love one, baby. You read my mind.”

He followed her with his eyes as she sashayed the length
of the back deck toward the double French doors that led to his kitchen. Every
flex of her long legs held him hypnotized.

She arrived at the open doors and hesitated as if she
knew he hadn’t taken his eyes off her since she’d stood. As if she sensed the
burn of his gaze even before she smiled over her shoulder and disappeared from
sight.

He couldn’t have been more relaxed. The most
knowledgeable, talented masseur known to man couldn’t relax him as Sam did.
With that thought he drifted, soon asleep under the hot sun.

When he woke by the pool, the sky was getting dark and he
was sore with sunburn. He called out to Sam, but the only answer was the wind
blowing through the trees.

Standing, he stretched his arms above his head, his back
creaking with discomfort, anxious to be by her side again. He moved forward but
his legs were too heavy for his body. They fought him as he tried to walk
toward the open doors. Invisible elastic bands pulled him back, every step
forward harder than the last. He hated the intensity of the panic exploding
inside his chest. All he wanted to do was run. Run from a fear that gripped his
heart like a sharp-toothed vice.

Time was of the essence. It was running out, but for what?

It seemed an eternity before he finally set his feet on
the cold black slate of the kitchen. The room was dark. He flicked the switch
at the wall and called Sam’s name, his throat hoarse and dry.

No answer. Thinking she must be in the shower or asleep
upstairs, he headed to his bedroom.

His heart quickened when he approached the thick wooden
door of the master suite. He wasn’t sure he wanted to open it, suddenly
terrified beyond reason. Something was wrong…very, very wrong.

He barged through his bedroom door, angry and frightened.
Where was she? She wasn’t in the room or his huge walk-in closet. He checked
the bathroom, but it too was empty. He walked to his bed and his heart stopped
when he focused on Sam’s sarong on the other side of the room, lying on the
floor near the open window.

He leaped across the bed and picked up the thin red
skirt. As he stood, an excruciating pain shot through his ankle. He fell to the
floor, clutching his foot in agony. Tears sprang to his eyes. He screamed at
the ceiling. And then as rapid as the pain had arrived, it ebbed to a dull
throb.

Breathing heavily, he stared at the fabric in his hand. A
moment passed before he registered the red sticky substance on his fingers. He
glanced from his hands to the red skirt and back again. Blood…and it was not
his.

He was going to die. His heart was going to fail and this
would be the last thing he saw—the carpet on his bedroom floor.

His heart wrenched out of his chest as his scream echoed
through the empty house. “Sa-a-am!” he roared.

She was gone. She was hurt and it was his fault. He
didn’t know why, he just knew it was the truth.

His heart lurched one final thump in his chest and
everything went black.

He was jolted awake when the plane experienced minor
turbulence. His hand instinctively clutched his chest over his heart until
reality seeped in and the nightmare cleared from his mind. Nausea roiled in the
pit of his stomach.

Sam was still fast asleep with her head on his shoulder. A
tiny frown formed on her brow as she twitched in his arms.

“Mr. Maurello?” the hostess asked quietly. “We’ll be landing
in approximately thirty minutes. Is there anything I can get you?”

“Some cold water would be great, thanks.”

When the woman walked away, he tenderly kissed Sam’s
forehead, stirring her from sleep. She opened her eyes and smiled.

I could get used to waking up to that.

“Ow, my head’s pounding. What time is it?” She rubbed the
back of her neck. “That was one hell of a dream,” she mumbled.

“What was that?”

“Huh?”

He was going to ask again, but was distracted when she
yawned and stretched her arms above her head, revealing a quick flash of her
bellybutton.

He shook his head to clear the naughty thoughts hardening
his cock. The last thing he wanted was to parade around the airport with a
hard-on. “Ah, it’s six London time, so that would make it, what? Two in the
afternoon?” He clicked his seat back to the upright position as Sam did the
same. “Did you have a good sleep?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

The hostess handed them each a bottle of cool spring water
as she rushed past to attend passengers down the aisle.

“We’ll be landing soon.” He cleared his throat. “So…hey, I
was thinkin’. What are your plans for today? Anywhere you have to be?”

“I’ve got a room booked at the Comfort Inn, but my first
meeting isn’t until tomorrow morning.” Her smile reflected in the small window
as she stared down at the ocean below. The plane was under the clouds, closing
in on the shores of southeastern New York. He placed his hand over hers,
resting on her leg.

“Oh…well…like I said. I was thinking…maybe you’d like to
stay with me for a few days? I know it’s not the Comfort Inn, but it’s a roof
and four walls. I’m pretty sure I can make you comfortable.”

Fuck! What do I do if she says no?

* * * * *

“I don’t want to let you go just yet. And I might even cook,
if you’re lucky.” He smiled that goddamned sexy half-smile she loved so much.
“Cancel your booking and stay with me instead. I’ll make sure you get wherever
you need to go. I’ll even drive you myself if I have to.”

She was jumping on the inside, perfecting a triple
somersault. Every ounce of her being concentrated on containing the grin that
threatened to take over her entire face.

He really wants me to stay with him!

“Okay…I guess I could cancel. If you’ve got room for me,
that is. You sure I won’t be cramping your style?”

He leaned close. “I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t sure. I kinda
like the idea of having you in my bed a few more nights,” he whispered, taking
the opportunity to nibble her neck.

“That may be the only place you see me, rock star. My days
could be hectic.” She gently pushed him back to his seat. Now wasn’t the time
for snuggling. Some passengers were beginning to stare.

“That’s okay, darlin’. I’ll take what I can get.”

The seatbelt light came on and they buckled up for landing.

Navigating through JFK Airport intimidated Sam, but they got
away pretty much unnoticed. This was Jesse’s home turf. As they approached his
car inside the airport’s private parking level, she widened her eyes, and then
blinked.

“Wow! Is
that
your car?”

He grinned. “Yes it is. You like?”

“Do I like it? I
love it
! Ma-a-an, she’s beautiful.”
She ran her fingertips over the seductive curves of the bonnet—a midnight-blue
Stingray with brightly polished, silver chrome fat wheels—her favorite car.

“What year is it?” she asked as he opened the passenger door
for her.

“2011,” he teased.

“The car, smartarse. What year is it?”

“Eighty. I’ve had it awhile now. She was a real wreck when I
got her though. A few of my buddies helped me fix her up. What do ya think? Not
just
a pretty face, am I?”

“It’s getting spooky, is what I think.” She melted into the
seat and swung her legs in so Jesse could close the door.

He raced around the front of the car and got into the
driver’s seat. The car smelled of him and the scent only intensified when he
sealed them inside. She breathed him in.

“What’s spooky?” he asked.

“Jesse, this is my
favorite
car of all time. Not to
mention I was born in 1980. Haven’t you noticed we have a hell of a lot in
common? It’s a little spooky, don’t you think?”

He turned the key in the ignition and she squealed as the
engine roared to life. He tapped the accelerator, once, twice, revving it for
her before putting the car into gear. She was as delighted as a little girl in
that instant—one who had just gotten
that
bicycle for Christmas.

“Yeah…I’ve noticed.”

He eased out of the airport and headed toward the upper
eastside of Manhattan—driving a little faster than he should—Sam squirming in
her seat when he rested his hand on her leg between changing gears. Her
excitement was swelling. The vibrations from the powerful Chevy motor surged
through the chassis and purred under her seat.

This is foreplay…

* * * * *

The woman in black got off the plane without a hitch. Jesse
and Sam had exited quickly and disappeared ahead of the crowd. It didn’t
matter. She knew how to find them. She always knew how to find him.

Previously wired from the thrill of the chase, she’d now hit
a wall. She badly needed sleep if she were to execute her plan for the new
lovebirds.

Enjoy it while it lasts, kids. It’ll be all over soon.

She was proud of herself. She had given a false name when
booking her tickets. For the moment, she was Sarah Jones. The fake ID and
passport she’d purchased a few months prior had paid off. It was an expensive
investment, but then if a person wanted authentic documents they had to pay a
high price. She got through the airport without any problems.

Slumping against the taxi’s smelly backseat, she revised her
plan during the drive to the Comfort Inn. She had been very resourceful,
researching the finer details. She hadn’t wanted to waste any time
second-guessing her decisions once she landed.

Chapter Ten

Jesse pulled into his cobblestone driveway on East 87th,
stopping in front of the huge black iron gates at the property entrance. He
leaned out the driver’s window and put what appeared to be a credit card into a
seemingly invisible slot. The black security box stood partially hidden amongst
the shrubbery and when he removed the card, a small computerized screen flipped
open. He pressed his palm to the screen. It flashed bright green and closed
automatically. The heavy gates clicked, swung inward, and then stealthily
closed behind the car.

Sam gaped at the manicured grounds as Jesse drove up the
long wide path toward the house. Once clear of the trees, she caught her first
glimpse of his home, standing proudly in the middle of the private acreage.

“
This
is your roof and four walls?”

“One of them, yes. I designed this one myself.” He drove
around the back of the mansion to an extremely long single-story
building—bigger than the block of land her whole house stood on in Sydney.

Jesse stopped at a second panel identical to the first and
repeated the security procedure. A large door glided open in front of them and the
interior lights came on. He cut the headlights and eased the blue beast into a
pristine garage.

Sam gazed upon his motorized treasures and gasped in
surprise at his ’vette collection. “A man after my own heart,” she whispered.

He can’t be
this
perfect…can he?

He had several Corvettes, a Cherokee 4x4, a new BMW and a
Chevy Camaro. She was in automotive heaven.

Luggage in tow, Sam followed him to the front of the house.
Made of huge sandstone blocks, it boasted two large peaked roofs on either side
of an even larger peak in the middle. It stood two stories high, the massive
feature windows at least eighteen feet from top to bottom. Each room appeared
to have its own private balcony and the gardens were breathtaking. She couldn’t
wait to get inside.
The Lives of the Rich and Famous
sprang to mind.

He opened the tall Blackwood door and dropped their bags
inside. The foyer lit up and Sam was stunned. She eyed the Italian marble
floor, the antique oriental furnishings and a grand staircase that wound to the
second floor.

Wow!

Taking her hand, Jesse led her into the living room—filled
with extravagant pieces he’d no doubt picked up during his travels around the
world. The huge dark-chocolate leather couch was inviting and she recognized
some of the framed paintings from her art history books. The room was rich in
color but also felt lived in, comfortable. She got a pleasant vibe from his
space.

A warmth that radiated with his energy coated and calmed
her. There was no theme to the room, and to a pompous decorator the features
would have probably seemed totally mismatched, but to Sam’s artful eye the room
was perfect. It was Jesse.

She followed him to the kitchen at the back of the house
where he went straight for the coffee machine and turned it on. Opening the refrigerator,
he smiled, apparently happy to see it was fully stocked with fresh food.

“Gotta give my housekeeper a raise, I guess. You hungry?”

“Starving, but do you mind if I take a shower first? I
always feel dirty after flying.” She yawned.

“Come on. I’ll show you where it is.” He pulled her in for a
quick kiss and led her upstairs to his room.

“I’ll bring your bags up in a minute. Help yourself to
whatever you like. Fresh towels are on the shelf and this cabinet is full of
shampoos and soaps and stuff.” He leaned against the wall, his gaze slowly
meandering over her body as she undressed. “Do you like omelets?”

She grinned. “With cheese?”

His breathing deepened when she dropped her shirt and jeans
to the floor. “You can have whatever you want, darlin’.” He pushed off the wall
and prowled closer.

“Well what are you waiting for, Romeo? Get cookin’. I won’t
be long.”

He reluctantly left the bathroom, whistling a slow tune
she’d never heard before. It was pretty and melodious. She’d have to remember
to ask him what it was.

She ventured downstairs fifteen minutes later, dressed in a
silk robe she’d found on the back of his bathroom door. She padded barefoot
into the kitchen, the delicious aromas making her mouth water and her tummy
grumble. She hadn’t realized just how hungry she was.

“Smells good.” She accepted the stool he offered at the
wide, black marble counter centered in the room.

“Hope you don’t mind eating here. I don’t use the dining
room much.”

“Not at all. If I’m not eating in front of my TV, I’m standing
at my kitchen counter at home. I don’t use my table much either.”

She looked at the spread of omelets, bacon and hot rolls.
“Nice. You can cook.” She smiled, digging into a triangle of her cheese and
spring vegetable omelet.

“I can cook about three things so don’t get too excited. It
doesn’t get much better than this,” he said, already having devoured most of
the food on his plate. He reached for more bacon and another roll, winking at
her. “You look good in my robe.”

“What happened with bringing my bags up? I wasn’t coming
down naked,” she said around a mouthful of food.

“Note to self, hide
my
clothes next time too. You
know, you might have gotten dessert if you were naked. Now you’re gonna have to
do the dishes. Sorry. My house, my rules. Clothes on equals dish duty.”

“Whatever you say.” She casually pushed one side of the robe
off her shoulder, exposing a single breast. Focused on her plate, she ignored
Jesse, who at last glance sat with his lips parted, practically drooling…but
her hardening nipple gave her away. “Like you said, your house, your rules. I
can live with that.”

He scarfed down what was left on his plate and tossed his
dishes in the sink. “Hurry up and eat, woman. I’m jumpin’ in the shower and
want
you
in my bed by the time I get out. And leave the damn dishes.”

He pulled his robe up to cover her breast and swept the back
of his hand across her nipple, sending shivers down her spine. He walked
steadily out of the kitchen and Sam laughed at the rapid thump of his footsteps
up the stairs.

Jesse was insatiable. She didn’t even have to try to turn
him on. Tom was a different matter entirely. He would have degraded her. As far
as he was concerned, she should always be on her best behavior and, above all
else, act like a lady.

She’d never been allowed to make the first move
romantically. Never been allowed to be promiscuous or sultry. She never wore
the gowns her mother made for her around him. Tom thought the dresses too tight
and revealing, scolding her the first time she’d worn one to dinner. He’d
complained the entire night, saying he was uncomfortable because too many eyes
were undressing her. Her ex had
really
held her back, but now she was
free to be herself.

Jesse seemed to like the real her. She’d forgotten how much
fun life could be when a person let go of her responsibilities for a while and
just lived in the moment. She had to get back to work tomorrow, but for now she
had Jesse to play with.

She put her plate in the sink, still hungry—but starving
with a different desire—and leaped up the stairs, tearing off the robe as she
dove onto his huge king-size, four-poster bed. Relaxing into the large fluffy
white pillows, she enjoyed the smooth glide of the silky sheets against her
naked skin.

* * * * *

While Jesse washed his hair, his cell announced a text
message. He rinsed and shut off the faucets, stepping onto the cold floor.
After toweling dry and wrapping the ends around his waist, he dug his phone
from his jeans pocket. The message was from Becky.

How could u do this 2 me? Who’s the SLUT from Australia?
Did u think I wouldn’t find out? R u trying 2 hurt me? We’re not over, Jesse!
I’ll b seeing u baby…soon. B xxx

“She’s crazy,” he whispered.

When is she gonna take
no
for an answer?

He couldn’t have made his declaration any clearer before leaving
for London. He’d told her many times it was over between them.

During their last conversation he’d been harsh, more so than
he would have liked. He’d become certain she had a split personality. One
minute she was the woman he’d once thought he could learn to love. She knew
they were through, even accepted it. The next she was obsessed with him all
over again. He never knew which Becky he was going to get.

She’d totally freaked when he’d hired a female vocalist for
a few of their latest tracks. Becky had been convinced he was having an affair
and had terrorized the poor woman until she damn well quit. It took leaving her
for him to realize just how unstable she really was.

He stared at his phone. Maybe she’d get the hint from his
silence.

He entered his darkened bedroom. Sam was lying in his bed,
waiting.
Becky who?

He crossed the room and removed his towel, climbing in
beside the angel he already considered his. He loved the color of her
hair—natural shades of light-brown- and-honey blonde with highlighted
sun-kissed streaks.

He stroked her neck, gliding his lips behind each touch.

A delicious fire raced through his veins, engulfing every
inch of him. He wasn’t interested in foreplay. No way would he be able to hold
off even if he wanted to. He wanted to be inside her, craved her like a drug.
He was hard and ready, throbbing against the palm of her hand as she stroked
him.

“I need you,” she whispered.

As she faced him on her side, he raked his fingers down her
back and followed the curve of her thigh. Lifting her leg at the knee, he
wrapped it over his hip and plunged deep inside. He stilled his hips, the tip
of his cock kissing her end wall, allowing her a moment to adjust to the sudden
intrusion.

She moaned pleasingly into his ear, a crafty smile crossing
her lips. Slowly, she wiggled her hips, grinding against him, and reached
behind her leg to roll the weight of his balls between her fingers. He grunted,
eyes closed as he kissed her passionately, one arm wrapped under her neck, the
other cradling her ass as he pounded into her quick and fierce.

He had the overwhelming desire to reach release. This was
not the time for playing and teasing. His hunger was urgent, needy and wanted
to be fed fast.

He pulled out and sprang to his knees. “Get up. Now. And
turn around.”

She eagerly jumped up and spun to all fours, slightly
lifting her beautiful round ass in the air. He had the urge to smack it. She
peered over her shoulder and met his eyes, wiggling her hips. “I like when
you’re bossy.”

Fuck!

He shuffled behind her, eyes fixed on the glistening
entrance of her sex, so enticed he simply had to have a quick taste. He leaned
down and licked her slit as far as his tongue could reach.
Delicious
.
Her body jolted forward before returning to his mouth as she mewled with pleasure.

He was so hard he quickly raised back to his knees and
wasted no time driving his cock into her hot pussy, hard, over and over,
digging his fingers into her hips to stop her from hitting the wall.

She leaned down and rested on her elbows, laying her head on
the bed and pushing her ass higher. A beautiful fuckin’ sight.

She moaned, her pitch rising with each of his thrusts, and
he drowned in need. “Tell me ya close, baby. I’ve gotta come,” he panted.

“Oh God. I’m…there. Fuck me harder.”

Her wish was his command. He pounded into her as hard as he
dared and within six strokes she came, his cream filling her tight cavern right
after.

There were no fireworks behind his eyes, no little blue
birds flying or chirping above his head. No. Only complete bliss coursed
through his mind and body, his cock so happy it would’ve done a jig if it had
the energy.

He was home sweet home.

* * * * *

Sarah Jones paced the length of the Comfort Inn hotel room,
wringing the black scarf in her hands until her fingers burned.

Where could she be? She was supposed to be here!

Rage percolated like a bubbling cauldron in her chest. But
there was nothing she could do about her ruined plans now.

She snatched the small lamp off the nightstand and heaved it
across the room. The black ceramic base hit the wall, shattering into tiny
pieces.

She filled her lungs with a calming breath and forced her
shoulders to relax. This was only a minor setback, that’s all. There was always
tomorrow.

Just breathe in…out.

* * * * *

Sam woke with a start and stared at the digital clock beside
her head. 7:49 p.m. She snuck out of bed and used the bathroom before putting
his robe back on as she crept out of the room.

Downstairs, she put the kettle on the range to boil and then
retrieved her bags, carrying them into the living room. The kettle whistled as
she finished dressing in old jeans and a sweater, and ran to take the pot off
the gas before the noise would wake Jesse.

As she made her tea, she peered out the kitchen window, her
gaze following the garden lights to the blue oasis of his swimming pool. She
inwardly gasped when her eyes landed on the row of white deck chairs. They
shone under the full moonlight, almost mocking her. The reflection of the moon
hovered in the center of the pool, the water gently lapping the perimeter of
the large white orb.

Déjà vu…that’s what most people called it, but for Sam the
sensation was tenfold. Her eyes remained open and she still witnessed
everything in front of her, still breathed in the scent of her brewing tea, but
at the same time a picture show played inside her head.

A black-scarved face with piercing eyes, glowing red with
anger, was the star attraction. The soft black fabric swept across Sam’s cheek
like a feathered kiss as the wind picked it up and swirled it around the
stranger’s face, all the while hiding the features…but for the eyes.