Kiss and Make Up Page 7

  Normally she would never have considered herself forward or brazen, but this called for desperate measures. In an attempt to step up the pace, she moved her hands behind her back, unclipped the bra, and let it drop to the floor. Her heart pounded as she met his gaze.

  Still, he didn’t move. His pupils dilated, but he just studied her for a moment before he raised his hands and rested his palms on her breasts.

  She closed her eyes. This was like torture. His hands were warm and aroused her so slowly. How did he know exactly how she liked to be touched? She tipped her head back, arching into his caress, and he groaned. Finally. A sign that he was as turned on as she was.

  She lowered herself to kiss him, thinking that once passion took over she’d be able to disengage her emotions and concentrate on the pleasure. It didn’t appear to work that way, though. He cupped her head with a hand and held her in place as he deepened the kiss, and all her senses spiraled. He tasted minty, and he smelled clean—of the lotion she’d used to remove his makeup, along with a fresh lemony scent.

  She kissed down his neck and touched her tongue to his skin, feeling his pulse racing.

  “Mm,” he said with approval.

  “You like that?”

  “I like everything you’re doing. You are so sexy, Tabatha Rogers.” He kissed her hair. “I’m so glad we’re doing this. I want you so much.” The deep timbre of his voice strummed her heartstrings, and she gave a helpless sigh as she returned her lips to his to stop him from talking.

  Desperate to disentangle her emotions from the event, she pushed herself off him and unbuttoned her jeans. As she slid them down her legs, he stood and did the same, although he took out his wallet before doing so. Opening it, he took out a condom. She gave a nervous swallow and removed her panties as he dropped his boxers on the pile of clothes.

  Just throw me onto the sofa and do me. She tried to plead with her eyes, but he smiled, wrapped his arms around her, and continued to kiss her until she was breathless. Everywhere his hands touched made her melt.

  “Enough.” She pushed him away. “Please, Eli.”

  A frown flickered on his brow for a moment, but he appeared to take pity on her. He sat on the sofa and pulled her down so she was astride him, and his erection pressed against her sensitive skin.

  Even then he didn’t appear to have finished torturing her. He lowered his head to her breast and covered a nipple with his hot mouth, and she gave a long, heartfelt sigh as the gentle suction aroused her until she was quivering with need.

  He lifted his head and groaned as he ran his hands up her body. “Every time I’ve sat in this room, I’ve pictured you naked on this sofa. You’re so beautiful—you drive me crazy.”

  Simon had been so sparing with his compliments that Eli’s touched her more than they probably should have. Simon had been her only partner—she’d never guessed the sort of sex she’d seen in the movies was possible in real life.

  No—this wasn’t just sex. She may not want to admit it, but this was much more than a heated exchange of desire. As he slid his hands into her hair and kissed her, she knew Eli was making love to her—kindhearted, passionate Eli, generous with his affection and tender in his touch.

  Uh-oh.

  She wasn’t going to think about the repercussions of that now. She tore off the top of the packet and rolled the condom down him, then lifted herself up and guided the tip of him into her. She lowered herself slowly. He slid inside her, stretched her, filled her, and it made her tip back her head with pleasure.

  “Jesus, Tabbs.”

  She lowered her head and looked at him. His eyes were glazed, and he dug his fingers into her hips. Tenderness swept over her, and she kissed him. “What?”

  “You are so sexy. You have an incredible body.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  They both laughed then at their politeness. It wasn’t just his body she was enjoying, she realized. She liked him, liked being with him.

  Tabby. Don’t think about it.

  She lifted herself and slid down him slowly again.

  He exhaled loudly. “Oh, man.”

  She did it again, enjoying arousing him, and asked innocently, “Are you all right?”

  “Yeah.” He ran his hands over her body. “Very yeah.”

  She moved again, little shallow thrusts that made him sigh and groan in equal measure. He was losing control. She wanted to drive him to the edge—to see him come undone. The urge to pleasure him was primal, like nothing she’d ever felt before.

  She was beginning to lose control of herself now, though, and pushed down harder as he covered a nipple with his hot mouth. She arched her back, her hips increasing their pace. Her orgasm was seconds away, but she wanted him to come, wanted to watch him. She clutched his hair and pulled his head back, and saw excitement spark in his eyes.

  “Come for me.” She caught his face in her hands and kissed him deeply, plunging her tongue in his warm mouth.

  He slid his hands to her hips and thrust harder. She cried out with pleasure, and he groaned and shuddered, his body going hard as iron as his muscles tightened. She watched him, brushed the crease between his eyebrows, and kissed away his sighs. The sight was so erotic, so pleasurable, that her own climax slammed into her. He groaned again as she tightened around him, and he caught her head and brought her lips to his, as if he could capture her pleasure with his long, slow kiss.

  Afterward, she rested her forehead against his, sensual and warm. They didn’t speak, but he kissed her occasionally as their breathing quieted. His hands continued to stroke her and lingered on her back and thighs, soft, tender strokes that made her sigh.

  When she lifted herself off him, he caught her and turned. He disposed of the condom and tucked her in beside him as he reclined on the sofa, and she snuggled up to him.

  “Thanks,” she said after a while. “I didn’t realize sex could be like that.”

  He didn’t say anything for a moment. His heart gradually slowed to a regular beat beneath her hand.

  Eventually, he said, “It’s not been like that before?”

  How could she tell him without going into detail? She wanted to compliment him, but she didn’t want to talk about Simon. “Well, let me compare it to chocolate.”

  “Something else I’m very fond of.”

  “Me, too. In the past, I’ve only ever had the most basic confectionary—it’s sweet, and it’s better than nothing. But when you have the really rich, seventy percent cocoa stuff, you realize what you’ve been missing.”

  He chuckled and slipped a finger beneath her chin to lift her lips to his. “I think there’s a compliment hidden in there somewhere.”

  “There really is.” She snuggled up to him again, her cheek on his shoulder.

  “Thank you. Well, let me return it by saying I think I’ve just tasted the best strawberry crème in the box.”

  She laughed. “That’s very sweet, but I’m not stupid, Eli. You must have been with lots of women who are better in bed than I am. That’s okay though. I didn’t claim to be spectacular.”

  “You’re special,” he said. “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.”

  She didn’t look up at him, closing her eyes at the bittersweet beauty of the statement.

  They remained quiet as the light faded, and when they eventually rose and dressed, they walked to the door without saying a word, parting with a simple kiss that seemed to sum up the poignancy of the moment.

  Chapter Eight

  On Sunday, the crew and any cast involved in scenes of the Atlantis King’s castle made the move up north to Lake Taupo. Some of the actors, including Will, flew up, but most of the crew took minivans and prepared themselves for the four- to five-hour drive.

  Tabby found herself a place in the front of one of the vans housing most of the makeup team and settled herself in for the long journey. Madeleine took the aisle seat next to her. They’d both brought iPods, books, and a plentiful supply of
chocolate—Tabby thought there were worse ways to spend a Sunday afternoon.

  As the doors of the van began to close, however, someone pounded on them, forcing the driver to open them again. Mick ascended the steps, followed by Eli. A couple of the makeup girls cheered and motioned to spare seats beside them, and Mick held up a hand. “Contain yourselves, ladies. There’s plenty of me to go around.” He slid into the empty seats behind them.

  Eli followed him up the steps and leaned on the arm of Madeleine’s seat. He was dressed in a pair of soft cream chinos and a black shirt. “Hey, Maddy.”

  “Eli. Can I help you?”

  “Can I sit in the front…pretty please? My legs are too long for the other seats.” He batted his eyelashes.

  Madeleine glared at him. “My legs are longer than yours, Eli Black. Go bother somebody else.”

  He glared at her, and Tabby tried not to laugh. “Come on, you know how much I fidget. I need to be able to stretch out.”

  “Eli…”

  “I’ll get cramps. And then I’ll complain, and there’ll be a scene when there’s a stampede of lovely ladies eager to massage my calf muscles. There could be injuries, and it’ll all be your fault.”

  Madeleine couldn’t help but laugh. “All right, I give in. But you owe me, Eli.”

  “Absolutely, ma’am. I’m in your debt.” He waited for Madeleine to gather her things, get up, and move next to her husband. Then he swung in beside Tabby. “Hey.”

  Tabby shook her head. “You’re incorrigible.”

  “Five hours in the company of the most beautiful woman on set? How could I resist?” Her cheeks grew hot, and he smiled. “Oh, yeah. This is going to be fun.”

  She looked down at her book but couldn’t stop the smile stealing onto her lips. She’d given a lot of thought to their situation after their tryst in the conference room, and she’d promised herself it wouldn’t happen again. But she couldn’t help enjoying his company. She loved his teasing, and the thought that he wanted to spend some time with her made her glow inside. She looked behind her at Mick. “I thought you’d be important enough to fly up.”

  “I am,” Mick said. “But he’s not. He’d never forgive me if I flew and he didn’t.”

  Eli pulled out his iPad as the driver maneuvered the van out of the parking lot and onto the main road. “I’d never talk to you again.”

  “I knew I should have taken the plane.”

  Tabby laughed and settled back with her book, curling her legs up under her. Eli’s arm was warm against hers, and she welcomed the closeness. He didn’t pull away either, content to sit and read his iPad.

  The van wound its way through the Wellington suburbs and then past Lambton Harbour, the sea sparkling in the bright April sunshine, reflecting her good mood. Eventually it picked up State Highway 1 and headed north for Porirua and Levin. Tabby found her attention drawn to the Tasman Sea. The white clouds moved rapidly along the horizon, seeming to mirror her fleeting thoughts.

  “This must be torture for you,” she said after about an hour, when Eli switched off his iPad and started tapping his foot. “Sitting still for five hours.”

  “A bit,” he admitted. “I should have packed sandwiches.”

  “I have chocolate, if you want some.” She ferreted in her bag, found a bar, and snapped off a few pieces, which he took with a smile.

  They sucked the squares quietly for a while. She was listening to her iPod, and when he nudged her, she gave him one of her earpieces. He listened, looking surprised. “Foo Fighters? Nice.”

  “You thought I’d like Abba or something?”

  “Nothing wrong with Abba. ‘Dancing Queen.’ ‘Waterloo.’”

  “You like disco?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “I can imagine you on the dance floor. I bet you know a few moves.”

  He met her gaze, eyes twinkling. “You would know.”

  She looked down, blushing again, and he laughed. “You are so easy to tease.”

  “You would know,” she countered hotly.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t. I can’t help it though. I like it when your cheeks turn pink.”

  “Stop it. Honestly, it’s like trying to keep a toddler entertained.” Ignoring his grin, she put the iPod away. “Tell me about being a stuntman.” She broke off another bit of chocolate for him as he gestured to the bar in her hand.

  A frown flickered on his brow as he took the chocolate and sucked on the square. “What do you want to know?”

  “Are you, like, official?”

  That made him smile. “What do you mean? There’s not a uniform or anything.”

  “Do you have to be a member of something like the actors do?”

  “Yeah, the New Zealand Stunt Guild.”

  “What did you have to do to get in?”

  “Pass in four or more areas out of eleven.”

  “Areas like…”

  He counted on his fingers. “Fighting, gymnastics, horses, rock climbing, swimming, motorcycles, cars, high diving, sub aqua, white water and…ah…parachuting.”

  “Which ones did you pass?”

  “All of them.” His eyes gleamed.

  She smiled. “That doesn’t surprise me.” She ate a piece of chocolate. “Parachuting? Really?”

  “I can fly, too. Planes, I mean, not with my arms.” The joke couldn’t erase the fact that his wary expression had returned. She realized he was still worried she was going to raise the topic of the safety aspect of his job—that she hadn’t quite convinced him she wasn’t the sort of girl to ask him to change. His ex must have really screwed him over.

  “Tell me more.” She ate another square of chocolate, but pulled the pack away from him as he went to take some. “I’m thinking of going into the business myself. No chocolate until I get details.”

  He snorted. “You’d bruise if a feather fell on you.”

  “I’m tougher than I look. What else do you have to do?”

  “They also like you to have a few martial arts under your belt, pardon the pun. Like karate and jujitsu. And the more weapons you can train in, the better.”

  “Which ones can you use?”

  He thought about it. “The medieval long sword, the staff, daggers, the rapier, battle axes, whips…”

  “Whips?”

  “Don’t start getting ideas. I’m not into pain.”

  “You’re in a bizarre occupation if you don’t like pain.”

  “Hey, the trick is to do the stunts without getting hurt. Or damaging the set. The stuntman’s first law is that objects in motion will stay in motion until they hit the most expensive thing on the set you were told to keep away from.”

  “It sounds like a dangerous job.”

  The look in his eyes was almost fear, even terror that she’d start questioning the job he loved. “It is, at times. But I was born to take risks. It’s part of my nature.”

  Their gazes met, locked. She held it for a long moment, recognizing the challenge, knowing that the future of their relationship—whatever that turned out to be—pivoted on this moment.

  She began with the truth. “I don’t like the thought of you getting hurt.” Slowly, she let her lips curve. “There’s something kind of hot about the danger thing, though. There was nothing sexier than watching you fall onto a mattress from the top of the castle wall.”

  He gave a short laugh, but his eyes didn’t hold any humor. “Stuntmen have died at work.”

  “So have makeup artists. I could slip and spear myself on a Q-tip.” She sighed as if bored. “Is this going to continue to be an issue or can we get on with the interesting stuff?”

  He didn’t say anything for a moment. Thoughts moved behind his eyes like silt settling on a riverbed, but his challenging gaze softened. Maybe she’d passed the test.

  He took another piece of chocolate as she finally offered it to him, his fingers lingering on hers. “We also have to specialize in one area.”

  “And what’s your specialty?”

 
For the first time his gaze dipped to her cleavage before rising back to hers. “You really want to know?” She tipped her head in mock exasperation, and he laughed. “Fighting.”

  “I’m guessing your background as a bouncer guided that choice.”

  “Kind of. Although stage fighting’s not the same as real fighting. I had to learn all over again.”

  “Have you ever knocked anyone out for real?”

  “Would it turn you on more if I said yes?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Then yes.” He grinned.

  She should stop this. There was no telling what she’d do when the bus stopped if they kept this up. “Truthfully?”

  “Four times.” He held up a hand. “No, wait—five. I forgot about Christchurch.” He shrugged at her raised eyebrow. “I was on vacation. I was only fourteen.”

  “Fourteen?” She couldn’t wipe the horror from her voice.

  “I was a big lad.”

  The thought of him brawling in the streets at such a young age shocked her, but she couldn’t deny that the image of him being so strong and commanding attracted her. “So, you have to practice for all sorts of fight scenes, I suppose.”

  “Yeah. Unarmed, street brawls, Westerns, wrestling, medieval and pirate sword fights, martial arts…” His voice trailed off at her stare. “What?”

  “Are you allowed to keep any of your costumes?”

  “Any one in particular?”

  “No. The pirate or cowboy would be equally entertaining, I’m sure. As long as you kept your hat on.”

  He sucked chocolate off his thumb. His gaze rested on her lips, and when he spoke, his voice was low and sultry. “You are such fun, Tabatha Rogers. I could play with you forever and not get bored.”

  “Oh for God’s sake, you two. Get a room.”

  Eli glanced over his shoulder at Mick as Tabby’s eyes widened. They’d been speaking softly, but clearly both Mick and Madeleine—judging by her impish grin—had been listening.

  “It’s rude to eavesdrop,” Eli pointed out.