The VIP Doubles Down Page 39
A grin tugged at the corners of Gavin’s mouth. “Hugh, you son of a gun. When did you get into town?”
Hugh Baker’s acting career had been launched by his role as Julian Best, but he was now a superstar in his own right. He could have handed over the role of Julian to another actor, but his gratitude and friendship with Gavin kept him in the franchise.
“Late last night. I’m filming a PSA—sorry, public service announcement—for the next couple of days. I hoped I could beg a room from you.”
Gavin mentally cursed Hugh’s terrible timing. “No begging necessary.” He heard the water stop running in the kitchen. “I’ll be there in an hour.”
“No, no, don’t rearrange your day to suit me. I’ll just take advantage of the amenities, like Ludmilla’s superb cooking.”
A faint sound of the housekeeper’s voice came through the phone, and he knew she was pleased by the actor’s compliment. In the right mood, Hugh could charm birds of prey out of the proverbial trees. What few people knew was that the actor had a dark side, which was why he stayed with friends whenever he could. It kept him on an even keel.
“I’ll see you soon,” Gavin said, disconnecting. Allie was standing in the doorway, watching him. He walked over to wrap his arms around her and bring her soft curves against him. “I have a surprise guest whom you’ll appreciate. Hugh Baker.”
Her face lit up. “The embodiment of Julian. So you’re friends?”
“Since the first movie.” Hugh had known it was the role of a lifetime, so he’d made a point of thanking the writer when Gavin visited the set. They’d recognized each other as kindred spirits and gone drinking together that night. He’d been amazed when he stumbled onto the set the next morning with a nasty hangover to find Hugh filming a strenuous action scene without visible aftereffects. That was the beginning of the actor’s reputation for never letting anything get in the way of his job. Directors and producers loved him for that . . . and for his sheer, raw star power.
“You should get home, then,” Allie said, putting her hands on his chest and pushing.
He frowned. “Don’t you want to meet Hugh?”
“Old friends need time alone to catch up,” she said.
He tightened his grip so that her hands were trapped between them and lowered his mouth to taste her. When she gave a little hum of pleasure, he slid his hands down to squeeze her bottom and pull her even harder against him so that she could feel the beginnings of his arousal. He raised his lips an inch above hers. “Let’s take a shower together. I want to run my hands over your soap-slick skin. And then slide inside you where it’s slick in a whole different way.”
He felt the hitch in her breath. “You have company,” she said, but her hands were fisted in the fabric of his shirt.
“Hugh would understand.” He ran his hands up under her tee to feel her bare skin against his palms. He kissed the sweet, soft side of her neck. “Not that I intend to tell him.”
“Have you seen my shower?” She tilted her head to give him more access. “It’s so small we’ll have to take turns standing in it.”
“It will force us to get very intimate.” He flicked open the clasp of her bra, and she sighed without him even touching her breasts.
“I used to have willpower,” she said, rotating her hips against his now full-on erection.
And then they were stripping each other’s clothes off and dropping them on the floor. Allie laced her fingers with his and led him to a door in the hallway.
The bathroom was filled with standard-issue white apartment-size fixtures as well as a large covered cat box. Allie was obviously a meticulous cat owner, because there was no unpleasant odor. The silver-gray of the towels and tiny rug matched the gray-and-red plaid of the shower curtain. Allie pulled it aside and turned to him with laughter in her eyes. “Maybe if we both inhale.”
He eyed the small fiberglass shower cubicle, his vision filled with the image of Allie pressed against the wall with her legs wrapped around his waist while he pumped into her. His cock pulled even tighter. “It’s exactly the right size for what I have in mind.” He dropped the condom on the sink and backed her into the shower, laying his naked body against hers as she halted at the back wall. She reached around him and spun the water on, the first splash of cold droplets making him howl in surprise.
She laughed and threaded her hands into his hair. “I’ll warm you up,” she said, pulling his head down for a kiss that sent every drop of his blood to his groin. He had planned to take his time, to explore the curves and crevices of her body as he ran a bar of soap over her smooth skin. But his plan blew to bits when she dug her fingers into his flanks, gripping the muscles hard as she ground herself against him while the now hot water sluiced over them.
Allie was the one who slid the soap over him, running it downward to circle his cock, making him throw his head back with a long groan as pleasure rampaged through him. He grabbed her wrist to rub his hand over the soap before he slid his fingers between her legs, thrusting up inside her with two at once. She gasped and arched, and he felt her fingernails on his buttocks.
Keeping his fingers hooked inside her, he scrubbed his other hand on the soap she held and found her already tight nipple, rolling it between his slippery fingers. She bucked harder against him, the pressure against his cock arousing to the point of pain.
As he worked his fingers on her and in her, he watched her head fall back against the shower wall, her eyes closed, the eyelashes tipped with droplets, her red hair darkened and straightened by the water, her lips parted on her gasps. He felt a ripple of contraction inside her and stopped so he could grab the condom and roll it on.
And then he made his vision real. He lifted and pushed her against the shower wall, her breasts crushed against his chest, her knees riding his hips, the water cascading down on top of them. He thrust up into her, hard and deep, savoring the way his name tore from her throat and her grip tightened on his shoulders. She was as wet inside as out, and he started to move in a rhythm that was nearly brutal. She panted and then went utterly still before her inner muscles clenched his cock like a fist, setting him off as she shouted and writhed against him while he pumped into her, the release coming from the soles of his feet and the tips of his fingers to concentrate low in his gut.
He kept his weight against her until her muscles ceased to ripple around him. Her head fell forward onto his shoulder, and she murmured, “Oh, Gavin,” on a long sigh. If he could have, he would have stayed there for hours as the water ran over them like a warm blanket. But he could feel the muscles in her legs trembling, so he slid out of her.