“Our sisters are going to wonder how your clothes got wrinkled,” he murmured as he advanced on her.
He was right. If she wasn’t going to muster up the strength to leave his office, she needed to get her suit off, and fast. With desire holding her so tightly in its grip that wild horses couldn’t have dragged her away, she reached for her jacket with shaking fingers. But Smith was close enough already that he was sliding his hands into her hair and kissing her.
Her hands fluttered from her jacket to his broad shoulders. Right when she should have been saying no and pushing him away, all she could do was say yes over and over in her head as she pulled him closer. And then his hands were shoving her jacket off and he was undoing the buttons on her blouse and unzipping her skirt as deftly and efficiently as he’d removed his own clothes.
When she was standing in front of him wearing nothing but her heels and another set of the beautiful lingerie he’d given her, the breath came out of his chest in a heated rush.
“I wish I could spend the next ten hours appreciating you,” he murmured as his lips and teeth came down over the tendon that connected her shoulder and neck, “but since we’ve only got ten minutes...”
Before she realized what he intended, he lifted her onto his desk, not so much as blinking when her hips shoved a stack of papers and a stapler to scatter all over the floor.
“I’ve never wanted anyone or anything the way I want you. You’re making me cross lines, break my own rules to have you. I need you, Valentina. So damn much it’s tearing me apart.”
When they were like this, when he was stroking her skin and searing her with his heat, when she could feel just how much he wanted her, she couldn’t hold anything back from him. Besides, she was clearly just as messed up as he was, because it was more than just sex that was driving her to be with Smith again and again.
It was the need to be close to him.
To let herself be held.
To be intimate.
To be needed.
They were all the things her mother and father shared...and that had torn her mother apart after her father died.
But just as she couldn’t possibly turn away from his need, there was no way she could deny her own. “I need you, too.”
Her admission had him taking her mouth again on a growl of possession as he stepped between her legs. He drew back just enough to say, “Lift your hips,” then pulled off her panties. A second later his boxers were gone and he’d found a condom to roll on over his thick length.
The very last thing they should be doing was having sex on Smith’s desk while his sister, and hers, and the crew were waiting on set for him to film an important scene. And yet, as he took her ankles and wrapped her legs around his hips, as she twined her arms around his neck and held on tight, as he thrust into her on a desperate groan, there was nothing in the world she wanted—or needed—more.
They may have had only ten minutes, but what a glorious sixth of an hour it was as Smith took her over, body and soul, his hips moving in time with hers, his mouth pressing sucking, biting kisses over the upper swells of her br**sts.
It didn’t matter how many times they made love, she could never get enough of Smith’s warmth, his passion, the way he so fully embraced not just life, but her, too—sharp edges, soft curves, and everything in between as he sent her flying up over another peak of pleasure, before following her over a second later with one more hard thrust that had the desk skidding with a loud screech over the floor.
She was still trying to catch her breath while asking herself exactly how everything had spiraled off so fast from his sister’s innocent question—to Smith beckoning her into his lair, then to being thoroughly, and wonderfully, ravished in his office—when he pressed one more kiss to her lips and stepped away to put his clothes back on.
How, she wondered, unable to do anything but stare at his beautiful face and body with helpless longing, was he able to make passionate love to her one second and get back in character again just seconds after? It was one of the reasons she’d never wanted to be with an actor. She couldn’t stand the idea of just being another scene he was playing to the best of his ability.
Only, when he looked into her eyes, she realized with stunning clarity that although he was again wearing his character’s clothes, Smith wasn’t the least bit in character. Because instead of the billionaire from the film staring at her, instead of Smith Sullivan the movie star, or even Lori’s brother, the man who stood before her was one hundred percent her lover.
Hers.
The realization of just how completely he’d given himself over to her left her staggered even as he said, “Since I know my sister’s going to want her answer before she’s through with you, you can let her know that your guy is definitely still putting in his best effort for your heart.”
With yet one more possessive kiss, he left her half-naked on the edge of his completely askew desk, still shaking not only with lust, but also with sweet emotion she couldn’t keep at bay no matter how hard she tried.
Because, in the end, what amazed her most of all—so much more than the hot, head-spinning sex they’d just had—was that she’d given Smith every reason to give up on her.
But he hadn’t.
Valentina’s heart was still racing, her legs still trembling as she put her clothes back on and did what she could to fix her makeup. Without a brush and blow dryer at hand, her hair wasn’t nearly as neat as it had been before, which meant that as she returned to the set just as filming was about to commence, she could have sworn that Lori looked at her with a very assessing expression on her face.
Valentina worked to focus every ounce of her concentration on the scene starting to play out in front of her. Fortunately, it wasn’t long before she was completely lost in the story.
Jo sat feeding her baby daughter Leah in a luxurious nursery. The walls were bright yellow, the pictures on the walls sweet without being cloying. Six months ago she would have been furious with a man for taking control of her life like this...but pride, she’d quickly learned, had very little place in a mother’s life.
Graham had given her and Leah a gift she couldn’t possibly have given herself. He’d moved them out of her crappy apartment in a bad part of the city and into a beautiful one across from a park where happy children played every morning and afternoon. If Jo had to work the rest of her life to pay him back for it, she would do so. Happily. And without resentment.
Well, she thought as she heard the doorbell ring and adjusted her top, without too much resentment at the way Graham seemed to always be there for her, anticipating her needs almost before she herself could.