I grabbed a beer from the fridge and headed to the porch to relax and listen to the waves crash against the beach. The screen door snapped shut behind me and I took a deep breath, the crisp, salty ocean air reminding me of how Lana tasted.
This place sure was beautiful, even when it rained, even after the sun had set.
Smashing glass on Lana’s porch caught my attention.
“You okay?” I called.
She jerked up from where she’d bent over. “Yeah, just dropped my wine.”
I walked toward the edge of the deck and leaned my palm against the house. “Can I offer you a beer instead?”
She cocked her hip out to the side.
I’d been told since I was four years old that I had a movie-star smile—times like this it came in useful.
After a couple of long seconds, she placed something down on her table. “Sure,” she said as she padded down the steps toward me, barefoot.
My breath caught in my throat as she came into focus beneath the yellow porchlight. She was stunning. I wasn’t sure why that surprised me.
“Hey,” I said, taking in her plump lips, her sharp jaw. The way her t-shirt exposed her collarbone in a defiantly tempting way. Unlike most of the women I knew in Hollywood, I’d never seen Lana with makeup on or dressed up. She had something more than beauty, more than external, manufactured glamor. Presence. A way of being that made it impossible to take my eyes off her.
“So?” she asked, climbing the steps.
“So?”
“So, are you going to get me that beer?”
“Of course.” I waited until she was at the top of the steps, reluctant to look away, before I went inside to grab a beer from the fridge.
“Wanna try out the swing with me?” I asked when I returned.
She gave me a small nod and accepted the bottle I held out to her. I sat at an angle in the deep seat, turning toward her and resting my arm on the back, my fingers an inch from her shoulder. “How was your week?” I asked.
“Not as busy as yours, it seems,” she replied.
Was she keeping tabs on me? Interesting.
She blushed as I raised my eyebrows. “I meant I haven’t seen the lights on much.”
I brushed the back of my index finger over her cheek, wanting to feel the heat of her blush. “This week has been a little crazy.” I didn’t want to talk about me. I wanted to know more about her, every one of her fantasies, hopes and fears. I didn’t ever remember being so interested in what someone had to say. And although the feeling should have sent me running for the hills, I couldn’t imagine what would have me move from this spot beside her. I dropped my hand back to the swing, my fingers grazing her shoulder. “How’s the jewelry business?”
She tilted her head as if taking my question seriously. “Good. I actually made some solid progress on a few designs I’m doing for a handmade collection.”
“I’d love to see them sometime.”
“You want to see my etchings?” She looked up at me from under her lashes.
I chuckled. “And anything else you want to show me.” I reached across and slid her closer to me so our thighs pressed against each other.
“This is a bad idea,” she mumbled, almost echoing what I should be thinking.
Except I wasn’t. I’d deal with the consequences of this tomorrow. Something told me that Lana wasn’t the kind of girl who was going to go running to the tabloids.
“Cold beer, deep porch swings and unhurried kisses are all excellent ideas.”
I cupped the back of her neck and pulled her closer to me. Her breath came out in little huffs against my skin. It was all the encouragement I needed. I pressed my mouth against hers. The way her lips met mine—it was like coming home, like finding where I was meant to be.
Without breaking our kiss, I threw my beer over the porch rail, pulled her onto my lap.
The cold press of her beer bottle settled against my shoulder, the temperature contrasting the heat of her mouth. I snaked my tongue past her lips, took the drink from her hands and threw it in the same direction I’d tossed mine. I’d rescue them tomorrow from the grass. Right now, I needed our hands to be free to explore each other.
Tonight a kiss was not going to be enough.
“Matt,” she whispered.
Damn, I should have told her who I was. I was going to fuck this woman and she wasn’t going to know I was a Hollywood movie star and would ask her to sign an NDA tomorrow morning. For a split second, I felt a little bit shitty about it, but then her fingers trailed up my chest and began to pop open my shirt buttons.
Lana
My fingertips burned as I trailed them down Matt’s hard chest. I shouldn’t be doing this. But the way he looked at me. As if I was the most important person he’d ever come across.
As I got closer to him, his pull grew stronger. He wore no cologne but he had an earthy, masculine scent that suggested somehow I could trust him. His muscular arms encircled me and it felt like he could protect me from the whole world.
He slid the wide neck of my t-shirt off my shoulder and began to trail kisses along my exposed skin, setting off sparks of heat down my spine to my clit.
I’d known from the moment he’d touched me on the swing that tonight wouldn’t end with a kiss. He wanted more. I wanted more. We both understood that.
I gripped his shoulders and twisted my hips against his.
“No dry humping. I want your hot, naked body pressed against mine.”
He stood, and I wrapped my legs around his waist before I had a chance to think about it. I wanted his fingers on my clit, his cock in my mouth.
I wanted to be consumed by him, used by him, fucked by him.
Our eyes locked and he huffed before pressing my back against the wood of the house and grinding his covered erection between my thighs. He plundered my mouth with his tongue, as though he wanted more, was desperate to squeeze that last bit of nectar from the flower.
Through his open shirt, he pressed his defined chest against mine. I wanted to feel all that toned skin against me. I reached for my t-shirt and pulled it up over my head, interrupting our kiss for a second. The wood against my bare back and the heat from his body heightened every sensation, and my nipples beaded against the lace of my bra.
Being with Matt was the only time sex in a small town could take place without consequence. There would be no storm where he was concerned. He’d be gone soon. It wasn’t as if I was about to sleep with the mayor who I’d have to see on Main Street every time I went to buy groceries. And I was in my twenties. One-night stands were okay. I relaxed, giving myself up to the moment.
“Lana,” he said, pausing between kisses, “I should tell you something. I don’t want you to think I’m hiding anything.”
I reached for the screen door. I wanted to take this inside. I could barely focus on what he was saying.
“Lana,” he whispered.
“Let’s go indoors,” I replied.
He caught the door I’d pried open with his foot.
“I’m an actor,” he said. “I’m in the area shooting a movie.” He pulled back, a little crease appearing between his eyebrows.