RapturousGoogle Read online

  With his hands tightly gripping my bottom, I drop my head to his shoulder, adrift in a sea of sensation. I shift ever so slightly, and he gets bigger and harder, making me groan from the tight squeeze. “That’s enough.”

  His low chuckle draws a smile from me. We have this “argument” frequently. Just when I think he can’t get any bigger, he does. Every time.

  “It’s your fault,” he says. “It’s all you.”

  “From my perspective, it’s all you.”

  “It’s all us. We’re perfection together.”

  I can’t deny that, so I don’t bother to try.

  “I wish you could feel what it’s like to be inside you, the way your muscles ripple and squeeze me. It’s all I can do not to come the second I feel the first squeeze.”

  His gruff words, spoken directly into my ear, make me tremble.

  “Ride me, sweetheart. Make me come.”

  Next to him on the seat, his two Oscar statues lie abandoned, almost an afterthought to what’s happening now. That makes me giggle.

  “What’s so funny?” he asks, his teeth gritted from the effort it takes not to come when I’m riding him. I know this is a challenge for him because he’s told me so many times before.

  “Poor Oscar one and Oscar two, discarded in the heat of passion.”

  “Who the fuck cares about Oscar when I’m fucking my sweet Natalie?”

  Part of me wants to be appalled by his language, but I can’t deny that his blunt words turn me on.

  He throws his head back and groans. “I love how you get wetter when I say things like that. I fucking love it.”

  And I love him. Desperately. I’m so proud of those two gold statuettes that validate my belief that he’s the most talented actor of our generation, and he’s all mine. Tonight he deserves to be worshipped, and I can tell I shock him when I lift myself up and off him, dropping to my knees in front of him.

  “Nat… What the fuck?”

  “Shhh. Just enjoy.” He’s taught me how to do this the way he likes it best. I tightly grasp the thick base and suck the wide tip into my mouth, flicking him with my tongue as I ease him into the back of my throat.

  “Fucking hell,” he says on a hiss. The tight pull of his fingers in my hair and the surge of heat in his hard cock let me know I’ve got his full attention. I take him up, nearly to the point of climax before backing off and doing it again and again until he’s all but begging me to end the torment.

  “Nat. Christ, Nat. Baby.”

  He’s warning me as he always does, giving me the choice as to where and how he comes. I want him in my mouth, so I tuck my finger in tight against the spot under his balls that sets him off every time, and he comes with a fierce growl, thrusting into my throat with wild abandon. I love him this way. I love him every way, but watching my controlled, dominant husband lose control because of something I did to him is an incredible high.

  I bring him down the same way I took him up—slowly. And then I venture a glance at his face and find him watching me with fire in his gorgeous eyes. “Congratulations,” I whisper as I smile at him.

  “I need to win a couple of Oscars every day if that’s how you congratulate me.” He’s slumped in the seat, but the casual pose is deceiving. I know him well enough by now to surmise that I’m witnessing the calm before the storm that will strike when we get home. I can’t wait. His outstretched arms draw me up and back into his lap. He holds me close, stroking my hair and kissing my swollen lips. “My wife is the sexiest, most incredible wife in the whole world.”

  “I don’t know about the whole world.”

  “She’s my whole world.”

  And that’s way more than enough for me.

  Chapter 3

  I’m not the only one who wants a piece of Hayden tonight, and it takes nearly an hour to break free of the party. Men and women alike fawn over him, hoping he’ll remember their platitudes when casting his next film. However, I can tell that most of their insincerity goes in one ear and out the other with him. He’s never been one to play the Hollywood game, and he isn’t about to start now that he’s scored directing and producing Oscars.

  When he reaches his breaking point, he grabs my hand and half walks, half drags me to the main entrance where our driver is waiting along with at least half the Hollywood press corps. Exploding flashes blind me as he sees me into the car ahead of him and then joins me, muttering curse words under his breath.

  “How anyone can make a living stalking celebrities is beyond me.” He cracks open the bottle of bourbon that’s waiting for him in the minibar. Filling a glass, he offers it to me, and I take it, needing additional liquid courage to see my plan through to fruition.

  The first sip burns me from the inside, stealing my breath and bringing tears to my eyes. I look out the window so he won’t see my reaction to the potent liquor. I want him to find me sophisticated, not untried with things that are commonplace to him. And bourbon is an everyday presence in his life. I’ve never seen him completely wasted, but he does love his Pappy Van Winkle’s Family Reserve. The twenty-year-old whiskey sells for fifteen hundred bucks a bottle, and I know this because I order it in bulk for him. Keeping Hayden Roth in bourbon—and making sure the car is stocked with his favorite brand tonight—is one of my duties at Quantum, but I’ve never actually tried it until now.

  “You don’t like it, do you?”

  I realize he’s been watching me far more closely than I thought he would after refusing to make eye contact for the last three hours. “It’s okay.” I bravely take another sip, though I honestly don’t want it.

  His bark of laughter surprises me. “Don’t waste my Pappy if you don’t like it. The stuff is like liquid gold.” He takes my glass and pours the remaining liquid into his glass. “What would you rather have?”

  “There should be champagne.”

  “It’s Oscar night in Hollywood. Of course there’s champagne.” He uncorks a bottle of Cristal, pours it for me and hands me the glass, stashing the bottle in an ice bucket.

  I take a sip of the cool, refreshing wine that’s much more my pace than the bourbon will ever be.

  “Better?”

  “Much. Thank you.”

  “No, thank you for coming with me tonight and for seeing to things like having Pappy in the car for me.”

  “Just doing my job.”

  “You’re very good at your job.”

  “That’s nice to hear.” I’m on fire from the inside, glowing with pleasure at the rare compliment from him. I would’ve guessed he had no idea how Pappy found his way into every chauffeured vehicle Hayden steps foot into. To know he pays attention is the kind of validation that assistants to the rich and famous dream about.

  The traffic is hideous, and for once, I’m thankful for that. It buys me some time to calm my nerves and flesh out my plan. The number-one secret to my success as the assistant to the biggest movie star in the world is that I have backup plans for my backup plans. That’s what I need now—plans on top of plans. When we get to my place, he’ll walk me to the door because he’s too much of a gentleman not to.

  That’s when I’ll make my move.

  Unaware of my impending attack, he makes himself comfortable for the ride to Santa Monica, his feet up on the other seat and his tuxedo jacket discarded. I watch as he tugs at his bow tie until the knot gives way. The shirt buttons are next. I’m riveted watching the movements of his big hands. His moan of relief at having the top button released travels directly to my clit. I cross my legs against the painful surge of desire.

  What would he do if I straddled his lap and kissed him?

  I wish I had the guts to find out. But the thought of him rejecting me or pushing me away has me rooted to my seat. No, I’ll wait until I’m on my turf to put Operation Nail Hayden Roth into motion. In the meantime, he’s a foot from me, but that foot may as well be a mile. He keeps his hands and every other part of him to himself, as much as I wish he wouldn’t.

  How can he be so
calm, cool and collected when I’m about to spontaneously combust over here? I’ve never been so uncertain around a man before. Why, when it’s never been more important, am I unable to get a read on this man? What does he want? Who does he want? Until tonight, I would’ve said I had no idea. But when he kissed me, spontaneously and very, very publicly, well, that made a statement, didn’t it?

  Except it was followed by… nothing. After what felt like forever waiting for something, no way am I going to let him off the hook without something more. I keep telling myself that on the interminable ride to Santa Monica.

  “What did you think of your first Oscar ceremony?”

  “I loved it. Especially the part where all my friends won.”

  “I liked that part, too.” Leaning forward, he grabs the Pappy bottle by the neck and refills his glass. I begin to worry about him being too drunk for what I have planned for him, but then this is Hayden, and he doesn’t get drunk. Buzzed, yes. Drunk, no. Flynn once told me that Hayden never gets drunk or stoned because he doesn’t ever want to be out of control like his mother often was during his childhood—and much of his adulthood.

  “I’m so happy for you guys. The film deserves every accolade and then some.”

  “It’ll be a tough act to follow,” he says, his brows knitting.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Camo was a once-in-a-career confluence of events that led to pure perfection. How do I top that? How do any of us top it?”

  “You and Flynn and Quantum are just getting started. We’ve only begun to see the full extent of what you’re capable of.”

  He turns to look at me—really look at me—and the vulnerability I see in his eyes goes straight to my overcommitted heart. “You really think so?”

  “I know so. You guys are magic together—and on your own. I predict you’ll top yourselves many times over.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “I usually am. Just ask Flynn.”

  My comment draws a lusty laugh from him that makes my mouth go dry and my heart pound. God, even my palms are sweaty, and that never happens. I have never, ever wanted a man the way I want Hayden. Nothing I’ve experienced with any other man can compare to the way I feel just sitting next to him.

  It’s this last thought that cements my resolve. If I don’t do this, if I don’t take advantage of the opening he gave me with that kiss, I’ll never forgive myself. I simply can’t live the rest of my life wondering what if I’d been gutsy enough to go for what I wanted? So he’s my boss’s best friend. Who cares? I’m not on Flynn’s time right now, and he’s not the boss of my personal life, even if he sometimes thinks he is.

  Fifteen minutes later, the car comes to a halt outside my building, and I’m hit with another unsettling thought—what about the driver? Hayden will expect him to wait, but he doesn’t know he’s going to be here awhile. What do we do about the driver? I don’t have a backup plan for that plan, and my stomach knots with nerves as Hayden extends his hand to help me out of the car.

  I take hold of it and don’t let go. I hold his hand into the lobby of my building and in the elevator to my fifth-floor condo. I keep a tight grip on that lifeline to him as we approach my door.

  “I’m really glad you were there tonight, Addie.”

  “Thanks for inviting me.” New dilemma: how to produce my key without letting go of his hand? That can’t be done, so I reluctantly release him, and he jams his now-free hand into his pants pocket. I unlock my door and take a deep, cleansing breath.

  Go time.

  Turning to him, I look up to find his hungry gaze fixed on me, and I take that as the sign I need to proceed.

  “Come in.”

  “Oh, um…”

  I take a firm hold of his arm and draw him into my home. He doesn’t resist in any way. Closing the door behind us, I make the snap decision to leave the lights off when I place my hands on his chest and look up at him again. He’s so much taller than me, even with my four-inch heels. I love that he towers over me. I love the idea of being overtaken by him, surrounded by him.

  “Addie—”

  Before he can protest or tell me why this is a bad idea, I curl my hand around the back of his neck and rise up, brushing my body against his as I bring his lips down to meet mine. At first, he doesn’t resist. In fact, he actively participates, kissing me back with the same sense of urgency that I’m feeling. I want to shout hallelujah. I’m finally kissing Hayden! But that would require me to stop kissing him, and now that I have him—

  He turns away, breaking the kiss abruptly. “Addie.”

  “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

  His hands frame my face, his thumbs caressing my skin. “I can’t do this. It wouldn’t be fair.”

  “How would it not be fair when I’m telling you it’s what I want, too?” I use the word “too” intentionally because I can feel the hard length of his cock pressing against my belly.

  “I can’t.”

  “Why?”

  “Addie, we’re friends. We can’t—”

  I drop my hands from his shoulders to his waist, suddenly thankful for all the time I’ve spent with stylists choosing tuxedos for Flynn. I know exactly how to quickly gain access to what I want. And dear sweet baby Jesus, he’s commando under there, and the cock that falls into my hand is long and thick and hard, the biggest I’ve ever felt. My mouth waters at the thought of taking it inside me.

  I tighten my grip and stroke him, learning how he likes it by the way he reacts.

  He keeps his hands on my face, as if he’s afraid to touch any other part of me, but his forehead lands on mine. His breathing is rough and choppy, and his lips hover close to mine. “What’re you doing?” he asks, sounding desperate and needy, just the way I want him.

  “I’m doing what I’ve wanted to do for so long. Tell me you want me, too.”

  “Addison…”

  I drag my thumb over the tip of his cock, letting it slide through the moisture that’s gathered there. “Tell me, Hayden.”

  His lips come down on mine, hard and demanding.

  I open my mouth to his tongue. This, this, this is what I want. He is what I want. My eyes are wide open to his many faults. He’s a difficult, moody bastard when he wants to be, but I’m crazy about him anyway.

  Because I’m paying such close attention, I’m aware of the exact second his control snaps. His hands fall from my face to my shoulders to tear at the straps holding up my designer gown. The kiss turns savage as he pulls at the fabric until it gives way, the seams popping. My breasts spring free of the tight confines of the bodice, and I want to cry from the sweet relief and the wild excitement of his reaction to me.

  The heat of his hands on my sensitive flesh sears me. His cock gets harder and longer in my hand, feeding the fire that burns between my legs. I have never wanted anything more than I want him inside me. Right now.

  I keep my lips pressed against his when I say, “Bed. Now.”

  He hesitates, and I worry my two little words took him out of the moment long enough to remember why he thinks this is a bad idea. How could anything that feels this good be a bad idea? I believe this will turn out to be the best idea I’ve ever had. He rallies, turning me toward the bedroom, which is when I remember that he lived here for a short time, while his place in town was being renovated, before he bought the Malibu house.

  Keeping his hands on my hips, he steers me through the dark space to the master bedroom at the end of the hallway. I turn on the bedside lamp because I’ve waited too long for this to do it in the dark. In the soft glow of the light, he zeroes in on my bare breasts. Before we pick up where we left off, I want him naked. I unbutton the black vest he wears over a crisp white shirt. Still afraid he might change his mind, I work quickly to uncover his broad, muscular chest and abdomen.

  Silently, he turns me to unzip my dress. That’s when I begin to believe this is actually going to happen. He’s not going to change his mind. Laying his hands on my back, he slid
es them down to my waist, leaving a trail of fire and taking the dress with him. I help him along by shimmying out of the tight dress and look up in time to see his cool blue eyes go hot when he sees the thong I’m wearing.

  I push his pants over his hips, and he kicks them off along with his shoes and socks.

  Dear God, he’s beautiful. I always knew he would be, but the reality takes my breath away. Taking him by the hand, I sit on the edge of the bed and lie back, hoping he’ll accept my engraved invitation to take whatever he wants from me. For a brief, paralyzing second, he seems uncertain and torn.

  We can’t have that. “Hayden.” I give his hand a little tug, and he comes down on top of me, resting that magnificent cock on my pubic bone. Holy shit, this is happening. I want to take a minute to celebrate, to do a squealing happy dance, but I can’t stop now when I’m so close to getting exactly what I’ve wanted for so long.

  Wrapping my legs around his hips and my arms around his neck, I ensure that he can’t easily get away.

  “Addie…”

  “Yes, Hayden?”

  “You won’t hate me for this, will you?”

  I stroke his hair, his face and his back. “No, I won’t hate you.” It hurts me that he feels the need to ask.

  “Do you promise?”

  “Yes, I promise.”

  “In case I forget to tell you… You’re beautiful. I’ve always thought so, but seeing you, all of you… You’re stunning.”

  Okay, I can now officially die happy. “So are you.”

  “I’m not. I’m a heartless bastard, and you deserve better.”

  Before he can head down that road, I draw him into a kiss intended to make him forget everything other than what we’re about to do. I give him all I have, without reservation or worry about what tomorrow will bring. Who has time to care about tomorrow when Hayden Roth is naked and aroused in my bed?

  His desperation matches mine. His hands are everywhere, his lips ravenous, as if he’s been starving for me the way I’ve been for him. Every one of my senses is on full alert to his taste, his scent, the texture of his skin and the rub of his chest hair against my painfully sensitive nipples. I wonder if I have an actual fever or if I just feel as if I do.