Take a Bow, page 13
“What?” Her lips looked as if they’d been stained by crushed pomegranate juice, and her cheekbones were highlighted by stripes of pink.
“Damn, I—” Oh, what the hell. “—I missed you, Mimi.”
She looked at him, her hazel eyes liquid with warmth. “I missed you, too.”
“You did?” He could see the truth in her eyes, but he hadn’t expected her to admit it so readily.
“So, are we going to fuck or—?” She lifted a querying eyebrow, and he laughed.
“Dinner first?”
“And then?”
“And then we’ll see.” Saying he’d die if he didn’t get inside her tonight was a bit dramatic, even if it felt like the truth. But he didn’t want to pressure her into anything. After all, it had been his idea to wait.
“And then you’re going down on me at the very least,” she said. Her directness didn’t surprise him, but it did make his cock leap in his jeans. She shifted her hips and smiled knowingly. She could clearly tell exactly how on board he was with that idea. But she let him move away, open his own can of beer. The first taste was refreshing and helped quench his thirst for her, in the short-term anyway.
“Dinner,” he repeated.
“It might be a little cold,” she said, with a frown.
“My fault,” he said. “Microwave?”
“No. Let’s just eat.” They carried their plates to the patio, where an evening breeze had kicked up off the water, blowing away the damp heat of the day.
“Tell me about North Carolina,” she said between bites. “Unless if by telling me, you’d have to kill me, because I don’t want to know that bad.”
He laughed and again felt like he’d struck gold by finding her. “I’ll give you the non-classified version. I met with some producers and a director and a couple of studio executives. They were cool. Then I did some test readings on camera.”
“Like a screen test? Don’t they know you by now?”
“Yeah, but this was with some other actors. A chemistry test, to see if we can work together.”
“And can you?”
He thought back to the half-dozen actors he’d read against. A couple of them he knew slightly—they were TV actors, like him—but the rest were big, big stars. Bigger than Camille Corsair. Bigger than almost anyone. He’d been intimidated until he realized everyone was relatively chill, and he reminded himself he didn’t even know if he wanted this gig. Once he’d been able to relax, he’d been pleased with his performance.
“I think so. They were cool.” He knew if he told her the names of the folks he’d spent the most time reading with, she would have choked on her pulled pork.
“Congratulations,” she said. “And how did the recording go?”
“That went well,” he said hesitantly. By sheer luck, the producer he’d worked with on The Nash Speedwell Experience album had been nearby and agreed to come in to assist. It had been great to connect with Rachelle again, and she’d told him the song was good, but she’d asked him to try a couple of different endings, and together they’d picked one they were both happy with.
“You don’t sound so sure.”
“I think I’m the worst judge of my own music,” he confessed. In truth, he did like the song, but he had no idea if anyone else would. “Could you—would you listen to it?”
Mimi perked up. “I’d love to.”
He pulled out his phone. The sound quality wouldn’t be amazing, but good enough. He found the file and pressed play.
Mimi put down her fork and cocked her head toward the phone as the first notes of the guitar came through.
He watched her listen. It was entertaining to try to decode her small changes in expression, and the exercise kept his mind off the pounding feeling of fear he had in knowing she was forming an opinion and judging his creative work.
They’d chosen a repeat and fade outro rather than an abrupt ending. As the last strains finally waned, Nash closed the app and looked at Mimi.
She had tears in her eyes. He’d only ever seen her cry once before, and that was the last time she’d heard this song. “I love it,” she said, smearing wetness on her cheeks with a swipe of her hand.
He shot her a look. “Are you sure?”
“It’s poignant, you know? The melody is lovely. I love the change you made to the ending. But it’s not just that—it’s the message, Nash. About authenticity. About acceptance. Do you believe that? ‘I’m all I need, but together we’re better, we can make harmonies.’”
“I think people are strong, and if we let everyone be themselves, the world would be a better place. People who live life on their own terms are my heroes.”
She gave him a considering look. “Me, too.”
“Don’t you live life on your own terms?” he asked, curious. She seemed to be fearlessly herself, always.
“I try,” she said. “But aren’t we all works in progress?”
“I suppose so.” He certainly felt like he’d been grappling with himself, with the next phase of his life. What did he want it to be? Who did he want to share it with?
They finished their meal. The breeze turned cooler, driving them back indoors. He rinsed their dishes in the sink and stuck them in the dishwasher to run later.
“I didn’t get dessert,” Mimi said.
“You can be my dessert,” Nash said, glancing at the vee of her legs. She’d brought up the idea of him getting his mouth on her, hadn’t she?
“Finally,” she said, but lightly.
He grinned at her, feeling like a kid about to unwrap a birthday present he knew was exactly what he wanted. They raced each other up the stairs and to his bedroom.
Mimi had her shirt off and her shorts halfway down her thighs by the time he caught up, his own shirt off in seconds. He watched her strip, familiar with her body, but fascinated by how different this felt from previous times. In the past, it had been about fun, about expedience, about getting off with someone he liked and found attractive and who was game for anything.
But now he had feelings for her—he’d never lied to himself about that—and if she didn’t know, it was because she didn’t want to see what was there. He didn’t know exactly how she felt about him, but she’d said she’d missed him. Missing someone meant you felt something for them, didn’t it?
He didn’t need reassurance they were exactly in the same place—they didn’t need to be in love with each other to have sex. But he found himself wanting to slow everything down so he could savor each moment. There was no race to the finish line this time. They’d put in the work to get here, to feel comfortable and trust each other, and he didn’t want to waste that on a quick fuck. She wanted him to go down on her; he could do that.
But giving her head was simply a sex act. He wanted to give her an experience.
He started by drawing the curtains across the windows. He loved the view, but she was the only thing he wanted to look at right now. Then he crossed to the portable speaker he’d brought and pulled up an acoustic playlist on his old-fashioned iPod.
Mimi scooted up his bed, naked except for her thin scrap of a bra. Its vibrant blue color matched the dyed streak in her hair. She looked like a shock of electricity on the gray blanket and pillows, a tropical fish in a murky cove.
The only light came from the hallway, so he lit the lamp on the desk and closed the door. He had condoms in the bathroom, but he could always grab them later.
“Happy now?” she asked when he finally shucked his jeans and got on the bed next to her wearing nothing but gray boxer briefs that already felt tight.
He made sure she was looking into his eyes with her luminous hazel ones when he replied, “Yes.” He was happy, and he wanted her to know why. He had no intention of taking her for granted again.
“I’m happy, too,” she whispered.
His heart leaped, and he realized he’d been waiting for a sign from her that he wasn’t in this feelings thing all by himself. She was there with him, and he was unreasonably relieved. Those words were the signal he needed to take off the brakes. He kissed her. She tasted familiar— he’d kissed her plenty in recent days. He hadn’t made out so much since high school. But it hadn’t gotten old yet, tongues tangling, breath hot, sipping her like potent wine.
But tonight she’d offered him dessert, and he was still hungry.
He moved down her body, pausing to suck her nipples through the thin fabric of her bra, leaving obscene wet spots behind. She trembled and arched into his mouth, as if trying to get inside it. By the time he nipped over the swell of her belly, down the junction of her thigh and pelvis, he could smell her, ripe and heady, and he could see her, glistening folds sparsely covered by light brown hair she obviously kept natural. He liked that she didn’t meticulously remove every piece of body hair. He nuzzled her gently, glanced up to find her watching him with her lips parted, her sexy little overbite giving her an eager look.
“You good?”
“I’ll be better after an orgasm,” she said breathlessly.
He grinned. “Coming right up,” he said, rolling the first word with exaggerated emphasis.
She laughed. “Nice pun.”
Her hands were clutching the blanket, and he tapped one gently. “You can touch me, if you want.” He wasn’t going to demand she pull his hair, but maybe she’d get the picture.
She followed his suggestion and threaded her fingers through his hair, getting a firm grip as he went back to work, licking a long stripe over her folds before stopping to concentrate on the apex of her sex. He could feel her clit getting harder as he sucked, and she tightened her hold, which meant he was on the right track. He grasped her hips and pulled out every trick he knew, licking, kissing, and finally spearing his tongue into her dripping pussy. The musky taste made his cock so hard, he had to rut against the bed to get some minor relief.
When he went back to her clit, her grip intensified again. He relished the sting as she pulled gently on his hair, and he was grateful for its current length. He’d often kept his hair so short there was nothing to grab onto, but the sensation of being held against Mimi’s luscious wetness was intoxicating.
“Harder, please. Nash,” she sobbed.
He renewed his efforts until she was suddenly stiffening beneath him, and he felt an extra spurt of fluid coat his chin just as she relaxed her hold. God, she was insanely hot, and he could have spent all night eating her out, except for the fact that he might actually die if he didn’t feel her surrounding his cock with her tight, wet heat.
He licked his lips and raised his head. She was breathing hard, eyes closed, body flushed pink from forehead to thighs. He must look a mess, felt her coating his entire face. Even his eyebrows felt damp. He managed to reach a box of tissues on the nightstand and do a quick clean-up job before palming his erection through his boxer briefs.
“That was intense,” she said, opening her eyes blearily. “Wow.”
“I like ‘wow,’” he said. “And yeah.” They’d always sparked in the sex department, but that was like a runaway forest fire. And he was still burning with need for her.
She looked so unbelievably sexy laid out on his bed, all glowing and well-serviced. He peeled down his boxers and stroked himself roughly.
Mimi pushed up on an elbow, nodded at his crotch. “Hey, you want some help with that?”
“Yeah, but this is good, too.” Honestly, jerking off to her seemed almost as good a plan as getting inside her at this point.
“Come here.” She motioned him toward her, helped him get the boxers all the way off, then spread her legs. “I’m so wet, you’ll just sink right in.”
He groaned. “Wait. I need to get a condom.”
She bit her lip and opened her mouth, hesitating. She then seemed to think better of whatever she was going to say. “Okay.”
He threw himself off the bed and cursed his earlier cavalier attitude about the condom. Unless things had changed since the last time they'd talked about this, she was on birth control, and they were both healthy, but he made a point of never going without the extra protection of a condom. He didn’t want to be hit with a surprise just because he was lazy about gloving up, and he’d never been with anybody he’d even considered skipping it with. But with Mimi, everything was different. If she’d said she didn’t mind him going without, he would have done it in a heartbeat.
Jesus. She’d really gotten into his head.
Not to mention his heart.
Chapter Twenty-One
He was a cowboy lover, galloping in hard and riding away wet.
“Stetson,” The Nash Speedwell Experience
Despite the toe-curling orgasm Nash had dramatically delivered, Mimi wasn’t done with him yet. She snuggled into the super-soft sheets and waited, flashing back to the image of his mouth working her clit like a pro, her hands bunched in his thick brown hair.
She’d almost told him she didn’t need him to wear the condom but chickened out at the last minute. He seemed to take forever in the bathroom but finally came back with an entire pack.
Mimi approved. “I like your ambition, cowboy.”
“Gotta have goals,” he answered with a wink that made her pussy clench.
He was surreally attractive, a real-life screen star with the bone structure to prove it. But he was still just Nash, a little goofy, a little insecure, gentlemanly yet dirty when it counted. He was kind of perfect, if she was honest with herself.
And he seemed to think she was great, which was as it should be—Mimi knew her worth, thank you very much—but it was still a little random. How had this man decided she was the one he wanted to be with? In her experience, the universe didn’t align itself in her favor like that.
But somehow it had. She was having sex with a man she cared about deeply. She didn’t do that. Even though she and Nash had slept together before, this was the first time it was more than a hookup. She’d be seeing him tomorrow. And the day after. And maybe the day after that. And she realized suddenly she was on board with that plan. Even though it was new, and scary, and she didn’t know what she was doing half the time, it didn’t matter. Because he was right there with her. She wasn’t alone in this. They were fumbling through together. And that seemed to make it okay.
She took a deep breath and smiled at him. He’d donned the condom and was stroking himself through it. He’d done an amazing job taking care of her so far tonight, and she wanted to make him feel just as good.
She rearranged them so he was lying back on the bed and she was on top, then she leaned forward and took him in her mouth. She’d blown him before, but it had been a while. She’d forgotten just how heavy his fully erect cock was, and it took her a second to adjust to the weight of him in her mouth. But she liked the way he filled her up. He let out a soft stream of curses as she took him deep, backed off, then repeated. She brought one hand up to cup his balls, and he froze.
“Shit, shit, shit. Stop, honey, or I’m going to—”
She pulled off, licking the latex taste off her lips. “You’re so hard.”
“Yeah, eating out your pussy makes me fucking hard as nails.”
She groped around behind her until she found another condom. She removed the one he was wearing, put on a fresh one. His eyes never left her hands.
He grunted. “You’re going to kill me.”
“You’ll survive,” Mimi declared. She then straddled his waist and sank down on him, pausing to adjust until her opening was flush with his thighs. She’d been aching to have him right there since he’d come back to town, maybe longer than that, and it felt as fabulous as she remembered.
“God, you feel good,” he said, bucking up until she was sure she could feel his tip spearing her as deep as anyone had ever been.
They quickly found a rhythm, and just as Mimi was getting frustrated because she wasn’t getting exactly where she wanted, he flipped them and pushed her legs onto his shoulders. She loved that this wasn’t their first time, or even their tenth. They’d been together enough that he knew she liked it deep, that she didn’t mind him manhandling her a little, that she in fact preferred it when he put his Hollywood muscles to use. He snapped his hips into her, making her see stars. Her hands scrambled for purchase on those gloriously overdeveloped shoulders, slippery now with sweat.
First-time hookups were fun, and new was usually exciting, but sometimes it was just weird or not good or awkward if both people weren’t exactly compatible. With Nash, it was different in so many ways. She knew his body better than any other she’d had her hands on besides her own.
Every moment they spent together, the formerly uncharted territory of Nash was being replaced by shared memories, by mutual understanding. She was getting to know him better than she ever thought she would, and she was surprised by how satisfying it was.
Almost as satisfying as the explosive orgasm that rocked through her and took her unawares. One second he was thrusting into her, the next she was shocked with pleasure, pleasure that kept building, until her mouth opened on a silent scream, the orgasm going on and on, showing no signs of giving up.
Nash didn’t give up either. Despite being close to the edge earlier, he was holding out like a champ. He just kept giving it to her, and she kept taking it.
“I’m still coming,” she gasped, and he smiled grimly, face red with exertion.
“Yeah, that’s it, keep coming, Mimi.”
She obeyed, the tightness building within the pleasure until she was shouting again. The closest thing she could compare it to was an orgasm within an orgasm, sharp and sweet and zinging through her nervous system like a pinball lighting up every post along the way.
He was right there with her, yet again, muscles bunched and chest heaving as he emptied himself into her.
They were both hot to the touch, as if they’d caught a fever. Kissing him after he’d pulled out and disposed of the condom, he tasted like salt, briny like the sea outside the window.
“Hot,” she said.
“I’ll turn on the fan.”
