Over-Exposed (Perspectives Book 2) Page 9

  “That was a first for me.” He leaned sideways so he could see her face. “Fuck, Nat, I’m sorry. I couldn’t stop myself. You all right?”

  “I’m surprised to say it, but yeah. That was fun,” she added with a giggle that for some reason didn’t make her hate herself. Besides enjoying aftershocks from the incredible orgasm she’d just had, she had to admit she felt confident. Powerful. And as Sam handed her a few paper towels from the roll on the table, she felt thankful they’d opted for BBQ.

  * * *

  Saturday afternoon, tangled in the sheets after a post-sightseeing fuck session, Natalie traced Sam’s tattoo with a fingertip. They had barhopped and restaurant-hopped. Everywhere they went, there was great music, from country to blues to alternative rock, whether they were in the Bluebird Cafe or on the sidewalk outside Centennial Park. The place was bursting with creative energy. She suspected a lot of people move to Nashville to become who they truly are.

  It was a fun city. She had been there before. But hanging out there with Sam was the most fun she’d ever had. Doing anything with Sam was the most fun she’d ever had. They hadn’t discussed the future. She was too much of a chicken-shit to bring it up, she admitted to herself. Now that she knew Sam wasn’t the man-whore he was reputed to be, was it completely crazy to wish they might continue to see each other when he was finally able to go back to his real life?

  But even if he wanted that, too, it was impossible. His life and career were in Hollywood. And even if Natalie hadn’t been working towards partnership in her father’s firm for almost half her life, she wasn’t licensed to practice law in California. If Sam made the insane decision to leave Hollywood and settle in Atlanta to be with her (and she admitted to herself this line of thinking was not only premature, but delusional), how would that affect her partnership? Would she even have a chance at partnership if her father knew she was dating an actor with a man-whore reputation?

  After sneaking quietly out of bed, she pulled Sam’s big t-shirt over her naked body. It smelled so good and Sam-like, she considered keeping it. She found her phone and went out to the patio. With a prayer that she wouldn’t be interrupting anything, she called Lisa.

  “Hey, Nat. What’s up?” Her friend sounded groggy, but happy to hear from her.

  “Crap, did I wake you? What time is it in Hawaii?”

  “Nope, just um, resting between shots,” she chuckled. “Your timing is fine, don’t worry.”

  “Good. I wouldn’t want to be responsible for you leaving that beautiful man hanging.”

  “Punny lady. Speaking of beautiful men, it seems yours still hasn’t returned to his flock. What’s going on? Did you decide to keep him?”

  Natalie’s sigh covered all bases from lust to lovesick to loneliness. “I’m so fucked. In both the good way and the bad way.”

  “You know I’ve been there.”

  “And I know you understand how his very existence in my life could blow up my career.”

  “My opinion of your dad isn’t a secret,” Lisa grumbled.

  “Nope. It isn’t. But I’ve literally been working toward this since I was a teenager.”

  “I don’t wanna freak you out, but it’s been such a long time... Is it possible you don’t want the same things anymore?”

  “It’s all I know how to do and I’m finally so close to the partnership... I can’t risk losing it now.”

  “A lot of talent agents we work with are former lawyers. Might be something to think about -- especially with your psych background to help deal with the whack-jobs.”

  Natalie refused to let that thought gain any traction at all. “No, I still want to be partner. I just want Sam, too.”

  “What does he want?”

  “I don’t know. He hasn’t said, and there’s no point asking.”

  Lisa sighed. “I wish I knew what to tell you. It sounds like bullshit to say ‘these things have a way of working out,’ but sometimes they actually do.”

  Surprisingly, that helped. “Thanks, Lise. That was exactly the bullshit I needed to hear.”

  Her grin froze when Sam opened the sliding glass door. He just stood there -- naked and gorgeous -- silky hair spiking up in all directions, eyes heavy with sleep and dark intent.

  “Hey, Lise? I’ve gotta run.” She heard a deep-voiced murmur followed by Lisa’s giggle. “Yeah, me too. Go get it, Nat.”

  “Oh, I will,” she laughed, disconnecting the call.

  Without a word, Sam pulled her back into the room. He took her phone out of her hand and set it aside. “I like my shirt on you.”

  “Would you like it better off me?” she asked with a saucy look.

  “Of course. But later.” Tossing her on the bed, he shoved her toward the pillows. “Right now, I’m gonna put it to good use.” He pushed the shirt up over her head, and left it around her extended arms at the elbows. Then he twisted the fabric, tightening its hold on her arms and hooked the whole thing over a decorative knob on the headboard.

  Christ, she loved being manhandled by him. She wasn’t so naive as to think this made her unique, but she had always assumed women who liked that sort of thing were a certain type. A not-her type. That’s what you get for assuming.

  He left her there on the bed, arms bound over her head and naked but for a pair of sheer pink panties. Grabbing his jeans from the floor, he pulled them on with no underwear and without a word, though he kept his eyes on her.

  “Sam? What are you doing?” She had a moment of panic. “You’re not leaving, are you?”

  A dimple creased his cheek. He swept his eyes from her face to her breasts, then down her stomach to her might-as-well-not-even-be-there panties. She felt his gaze like a touch. “Just for a minute.” He winked, effecting a Pavlovian response in her pussy.

  As soon as he turned away she squirmed. Her clit was already throbbing, and she could tell he was in the mood to tease her. She had a feeling he would make her beg. When he returned moments later with a full ice bucket, her hunch was confirmed.

  Sam set the bucket on the nightstand and held an ice cube to her lips. “Suck.”

  Natalie’s mouth had gone dry, so she gladly did as she was told. She sucked the ice into her mouth along with his thumb and forefinger. A burst of power shot through her to see how much that turned him on -- his brows creased, his eyes dilated and he licked his lips. Bending to kiss her, he sucked the ice and drank deeply from her mouth. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she chuckled at the paradox that kissing his ice-cold mouth could get her so fucking hot.

  He let her have the rest of that cube and swirled his frozen tongue around a nipple, which instantly peaked for him. Wrapping his lips around the other, he sucked hard until his mouth was hot again.

  It took everything in Natalie’s power to keep her hips on the bed, she wanted him so much. Then he confused her by taking her dark sunglasses from the nightstand.

  “Hold still,” he said, slipping them over her eyes.

  She loved his silly side, but his timing was way off. “What are you doing?”

  “Disguising you.”

  “You don’t get enough role play in the boudoir with the women in your usual life?” As she asked the question she hoped it sounded cheeky as she’d intended, rather than possessive and jealous, which is how she felt. In that same nanosecond, she realized they had discussed her single status, but never his.

  He had begun looking for something on her phone, but glanced at her long enough to say, “Role play is my job. And there hasn’t been a woman in my boudoir in months.”

  “Oh.” Months, huh?

  Before Natalie could take any joy from that information, he explained, “The glasses are so no one will recognize you.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “WHAT DO YOU mean?” She tried to pull her arms free. “You’d better not be bringing anyone in here.”

  “Of course not. I’m just gonna show off this gorgeous body of yours a little. Anonymously.”

  That calmed her down and st
arted her pulse racing in an entirely different direction. “How?”

  He gave her a panty-drenching grin. “You like the sound of that?”

  “You know I do, you cocky bastard.”

  His chuckle was deep and husky as he looked at her through her phone. “The internet is a magical place. Now, say hi to the folks watching at home.”

  Natalie hoped the sunglasses blocked Sam from seeing her eyes go comically wide. She instinctively squirmed, trying to cover herself. “Oh my god. Who can see this?”

  “It’s a live stream. Whoever tunes in, I suppose.”

  Thinking about hundreds of strangers watching this made her pussy ache.

  He tilted the camera down to her breasts. “The audience will love these.” With his free hand, he grabbed an ice cube and drew cold, wet asterisks on one hard nipple then the other. “You’ve got beautiful tits, Nat.”

  “They can’t hear us, can they?”

  “No.” He dragged the ice down and dipped it in her navel. “Maybe I’ll prop up the phone so everybody could watch your face while I eat you.”

  Her hips bucked. “Jesus...”

  “You look so fucking sexy when you come. I want the folks at home to see that.” He tilted the camera down and focused directly on her panties. “Damn, baby... I can see right through these.”

  It’s possible Natalie then panted something about the sheerness of organza.

  Sam trailed the ice to the center of her and slid it over the fabric. “You’re so wet. I love how I can see your clit through the fabric like that.” Keeping the phone’s camera on the action, he tossed the ice and slipped his hand inside her panties, teasing her with icy fingertips. Her hips came up as she tried to press herself into his palm.

  Ignoring her silent begging, he grabbed the elastic waistband and tugged her panties off. “Mm... That’s nice. I wish you could see how pretty that looks.” He licked his lower lip, held the phone at her twelve o’clock, then pushed her legs open.

  Natalie whimpered a little when she felt the cool air on her center, knowing strangers all over the world were now looking at her wet, swollen pussy.

  Sam watched her through the phone. “As a director, it’s always a good idea to think about what the audience wants and needs to see, know what I mean?” The huskiness of his deep voice said he was much more affected than he let on. “For example, if I were watching from home, I’d want to see this...” He slid his free hand from her knee, up her thigh and swirled two fingers in her entrance before plunging them hard and deep, pounding her clit with the heel of his hand with every thrust.

  Her body bowed on the bed as her hips rocked and her arms strained against their binding. She didn’t know when he shut off the phone or opened his jeans, but just before her orgasm hit he kneed her legs further apart and then he was inside. Her orgasm hit as he touched home. He plunged into her, balls deep, again and again. She either had what felt like a dozen orgasms or one really, really long one. All she knew was her pussy didn’t stop pulsing until Sam’s cock did.

  When the stars behind her eyes began to fade, Natalie was exhausted. “That was intense.”

  Sam unhooked his t-shirt from the headboard to free her hands, then slipped the shirt between her thighs. “Intense good?” he confirmed, though his lazy grin said he damn well knew the answer.

  “Uh-huh.” She barely had the energy to ball up the shirt when it had done its last job for the day. “Would we be really lame if we ordered room service and stayed in tonight?”

  “Yes. But let’s do it, anyway.”

  After a quick doze, they put on minimal clothes and ordered a pizza. They spent the night talking, laughing and having fun -- both the naked and non-naked kind.

  Sometime during the wee hours, Natalie woke up and couldn’t shut off her brain. She stared into the dark, loving the heavy warmth of Sam’s body beside her. Maybe he wanted some kind of future together, too. Easy enough to find out, chicken-shit. They had talked about everything else. It was time to talk about them. Since they had a long, boring drive the next morning, she decided that she would bring it up somewhere between Nashville and Atlanta. With a solid plan in mind, she finally fell asleep.

  They woke to the annoying sound of Sam’s phone vibrating on the nightstand. He ignored it and snuggled back against Natalie to sleep some more. A minute later, the phone vibrated just once. Then it started full-on vibrating again.

  “Maybe you should answer it,” she mumbled into her pillow.

  Sam kissed her shoulder and made a deep grumbly noise. “They left a voicemail.” He grabbed the phone and tapped to play the message. “C’mere.” He pulled Natalie close and played with her hair.

  The message began, “Hey Sam, its Mitch.” Mitch sounded excited. Like, really excited, Natalie thought. “Great news, brother. They caught the kid in a lie and her whole story unraveled. You’re free to go back to work, move back to your own place... life can go back to normal again. I know you’ll be glad to put this clusterfuck in your rearview. Call me.”

  Sam kissed the top of Natalie’s head and sat up. “About fucking time, eh?” He touched a button on the phone and a moment later, she heard Mitch’s muffled excitement.

  As Sam paced the room with the phone, Natalie dragged herself out of bed. She started the shower and left the door open, hoping for company.

  Tipping her head under the spray, her eyes pricked and she realized she was fucking crying. Maybe she was getting her period. So he wasn’t the dick she’d met during college. And they’d had some good-- no, great-- no, to be perfectly honest, amazing, life-altering, world-rocking sex. They had fun and he taught her things about herself she might never have learned otherwise. That was nice of him. He was a nice, goodhearted man. A nice, goodhearted, absolutely fucking gorgeous man.

  She heard his deep laugh in response to something said on the phone. Maybe for once, time was on her side. The timing of this news was definitely in her favor. If it had come a couple hours later, she would have already spilled her guts, talking about a future. Shutting off the water, she sighed, wishing they never had to leave their little cocoon.

  When she came out of the bathroom in her towel, Sam was just getting off the phone. She noticed he had packed up his things (he was still naked, though, thank god for small miracles). He opened his arms and she walked into his hug.

  “You’re not a fugitive anymore, what a relief,” she teased.

  “Yeah, it is.” He kissed her forehead, then each cheek, then her lips. “Mitch is flying in and there’s a press conference tonight.”

  “Good deal. Traffic shouldn’t be bad on a Sunday morning, so when we get back you should have plenty of time to relax, or move your stuff back to your loft, or meet with your director or whatever. I’ll just pack up and get ready.” Sam’s widening grin told her she was blabbering, so she turned away to get dressed.

  A press conference. That meant paparazzi. Gossip magazines. Reporters barking questions, looking for stories.

  She could not be anywhere near him when that occurred.

  Chapter Sixteen

  IT WAS A quiet drive back to Atlanta. Natalie was deep in her head the whole time, and when Sam wasn’t on the phone with his reps, he seemed to be in his head, too. He did hold her hand or have his hand on her knee a lot of the time, but she was smart enough not to read anything into that.

  The elevator ride up to her condo was more awkward than the first time they were in there together -- and that’s when she still hated him and he was almost naked. She thought they had come a long way since then, but maybe not.

  After the laughter and the sex of the last couple days, her quiet little high-rise home felt like a cement-walled mausoleum. Sam left his bag by the door and brought hers to her room.

  “Thanks. You didn’t have to do that.”

  “I was already carrying it,” he shrugged, following her into the kitchen.

  She opened the fridge. “Want anything?”

  “Yeah.” He took her face in both ha
nds and kissed her once, soft and sweet.

  Kneeing the fridge door closed, she looked up into those sexy, dark eyes. “I’d like one of those, too. But will you make mine a double?”

  Sam’s brow furrowed and he groaned a little before he took her mouth again in a kiss which was neither soft nor sweet. He sat on a kitchen chair and she straddled his lap, grinding on him like a seasoned lap dancer. She was going for his zipper when he stayed her hand.

  “The car will be here in a few minutes.”

  “So fuck me for a few minutes.”

  “No time for that, but...” He stood them up, and yanked off her shorts and panties. Then he pushed her down on the chair and knelt between her knees, palming her thighs as wide as they could go.

  It was certainly not the first time Sam had put his mouth on her, but something about the vantage point made it especially hot to watch. He teased her with the barest touch of his soft lips, brushing them over her from side to side until she felt herself opening like a goddamn Georgia O’Keefe painting. Her hands had been gripping the sides of her seat, but she noticed they had somehow found their way into Sam’s silky hair. His tongue made slow forays up and down the sides of her, but never where she wanted him. The more he teased, the more swollen she got until nothing mattered in her world more than getting Sam’s tongue on her clit.

  His dark lashes lifted and he looked up at her. That godforsaken dimple appeared in his cheek. Without breaking eye contact, he gave the center of her universe a long, achingly-slow lick. She tried to push into his mouth, but his strong hands held her where he wanted her. He kissed her inner thigh, then gave her another long, too-slow lick. She saw the change in his eyes a heartbeat before he angled his head and gave her impossibly-hard clit a brief, gentle tug with his teeth. She bucked so hard, she broke out of his grip that time. He drew her into his hot mouth, sucking to the beat of her pounding heart until her hands tightened in his hair and she pulsed and melted on his tongue.