Dial M for Mischief. Kasey Michaels

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СКАЧАТЬ I had to do it myself. So I waited tables, I sold shoes, I bagged groceries, asked if people wanted fries with their order. I did it on my own. I somehow finally nabbed that one role in the worst slasher movie ever made and I got lucky. I can’t believe you even saw it. The studio pretty well buried it once they wanted me for the new girl next door.”

      Now it was his turn to avert his eyes. “Somebody mentioned seeing you in the movie. I’ll admit I had to hunt for it.”

      “It nearly went straight to the video stores,” Jolie said, and now her fingers were busy, working at loosening his belt even as he was backing up, backing the both of them toward the bed. “Sam? Are we going to keep talking or is this going anywhere?”

      Sam knew their conversation wasn’t going anywhere near the truth, that was for certain. Not if he could help it. So why didn’t he just let it go where they both wanted it to go?

      His thumbs had done their job, and now his fingers were touching smooth bare skin, even as he felt the back of his thighs touching the heavy footboard of the bed. “Is that your way of saying you’re hungry and you want to finish your sandwich?”

      She looked up at him from beneath her remarkably long lashes. “I am feeling…hungry.”

      He skimmed his fingertips down the front of the robe and found one end of the sash, pulled it. The robe fell open.

      “God,” he whispered, drinking in the sight of her long, achingly perfect body.

      She shrugged her shoulders and the robe dropped to the floor, pooling at her feet, so that she stood there completely nude, completely unashamed, diligently working to open his belt, his button…his zipper. Then, with one swift movement, he was naked from the waist down, his slacks and boxers tangled around his ankles.

      He knew Jolie. He knew her moods, her signals.

      There wasn’t going to be anything gentle about what happened next.

      Sam closed his eyes for a moment, then looked past her, to the expanse of mirrored doors that concealed a small wet bar and entertainment center. He watched, bemused, as he saw his hands go around her back, cup her firm, high buttocks. Watched himself pull her closer, watched as her hands came up to balance herself against his shoulders.

      Watched as, lithe, limber dancer that she was, she bent one leg, gracefully hooked it up and around his waist.

      “Hold me, Sam,” she whispered, nipping at his earlobe as he braced himself against the bed. “Help me.”

      Did he have any choice? His hands still cupping her buttocks, he spread his legs as best he could to support her as she lifted her other leg, wrapped it around his back.

      He couldn’t stop watching the two of them in the mirrors. Even as he licked at the side of her neck, pushed his tongue into the curve behind her ear. Even as she slipped a hand between them. Found him. Helped him. Settled herself around him, over him. Drawing him in. Deeper. Deeper.

      “Yes…yes…Sam, yes.”

      This was need, simple and basic. Animal instinct.

      She wanted to forget. He longed to remember.

      He realized that at this moment in time he had all the control of a teenager unable to master his own raging hormones. He moved into her as she dug her long fingernails into his back. Once, twice, pulling her against him as he thrust, before something inside of him snapped, broke free, and he was convulsing inside of her, spilling himself inside her, giving himself over to her completely, absolutely.

      He selfishly took.

      She selfishly took.

      And then they were on the floor, Sam on his knees, still inside her, still with her wrapped around him like the dancer she was, the two of them breathing fast, saying nothing, for there was nothing to say.

      But there should be something to say, shouldn’t there?

      What in hell had happened? They hadn’t even kissed.

      “Jolie…sweetheart…”

      “No, Sam, don’t. Please don’t. A mistake…this was a mistake. I’m sorry,” she said quickly, just as gracefully disentangling herself as she had wrapped herself around him. She reached for the robe and held it in front of her, searching for the neckline as she got to her feet. Then, with a swirl of terry cloth that would do a caped superhero proud, she settled the robe over her shoulders and quickly padded back into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.

      The dramatic exit. Jolie was the master of dramatic exits. He should know.

      Sam stayed where he was, his feet still tangled in his slacks, damn it.

      That’s why she was the queen of Hollywood, while he, at the heart of it, bought and sold used furniture…

      After a few moments spent mentally kicking himself for having made the first move—Jolie would be quick to point that out if the subject of the last minutes ever came up, which he decided it wouldn’t, not if he could help it—Sam got up and headed for one of the guest room bathrooms to take his own shower.

      He was downstairs in the living room once more by the time Bear Man sounded the musical chime that alerted Sam that his guests had arrived. By the time he got to the foyer, Jolie was coming down the stairs. She was barefoot and dressed in a thin sleeveless navy pullover that didn’t quite meet the waistband of the white shorts topping her mile-long legs. Her long hair, still damp, was tied back in a ponytail, and she hadn’t reapplied her makeup, not even lipstick.

      There were women—legions of them he was sure—who could cheerfully kill her for being so beautiful.

      “You found the clothes,” he said unnecessarily.

      She looped a finger in the waistband of the shorts and pulled it away from her body. “I’ve lost weight in five years. Here’s hoping they stay up.”

      And then she bit her bottom lip before she smiled, shrugged. “Sorry.”

      “I didn’t think it was an invitation,” Sam told her, once more heading for the door. “Jade, Jessica, good to see you,” he said as the two women stepped into the foyer, both of them kissing him on the cheek before putting down their overnight bags. Rockne entered behind them, padded straight to Jolie and lay down at her feet.

      “It’s really great of you to let us barge in on you like this, Sam,” Jade said. “I’ve got one more trip to the car, and then we can all get reacquainted.”

      Jessica lifted her hands to her neck and gave her blond hair a quick flip as she grinned at Sam. “Ever notice how Jade takes charge? Do you want to get reacquainted, Sam? Maybe you’d rather go to a movie or take a nap or play a game of strip PingPong. But Jade says we’re to get reacquainted, so that’s what we’re going to do. She doesn’t even realize she’s arranging everyone else’s lives.”

      “Have you two been fighting?” Jolie asked as she picked up Jade’s overnight case and put it at the bottom of the stairs. “Again?”

      “Don’t be silly,” Jessica said, rolling her eyes at Sam. “I’m never combative—it’s not in my nature.”

      “Right. СКАЧАТЬ