Home > Star Struck (Lights, Camera #2)(49)

Star Struck (Lights, Camera #2)(49)
Author: Laurelin Paige

He joined her, spots of white light sparking before his eyes as his cl**ax ripped through him. When he could think again, he realized he still had a vise-grip on her ankles. He released her, rubbing the indentations he’d left on her skin. “Jesus, did I hurt you?”

“Nope. Not in the least,” she purred. She tugged at his arm, urging him to the ground next to her. He lay down beside her and she curled into him.

It felt good. Damn good, lying with her pressed against his chest, her sweat mixed with his, their labored breathing the only sound. He stroked her hair, taking it all in—every scent, every sensation, absorbing it into every fiber of his being, letting it hold him in a state of dreamlike peace.

“I was such a bitch.”

He waded back into consciousness, his brow furrowing as he struggled to pinpoint what Heather was talking about. “When?”

“Always. Since you met me.”

He chuckled. “I haven’t been that nice myself.”

“But I was…” She drew her fingers randomly along his chest as if searching for her words. “I was truly horrible. The way I treated you…why did you put up with me?”

Seth thought a minute, remembering the beautiful flash of vulnerability he’d seen in her, how he wanted to see more of it, how he sensed it was something to be treasured. And damn, had he been right. But how could he ever explain how he knew that back then?

He circled his nose in her hair. “Have you ever heard sculptor’s talk about the art that was hiding in the block of clay?”

She nodded against his chest.

“It’s the same with wood. When the pieces are lying there spread apart, I can see what they can become—something completely different yet totally the same. The thing they want to be. Don’t ask me how, but just like that, I could see it for you. I could see what you wanted to be.”

“What was that?”

“Loved.”

Chapter Sixteen

Heather pressed on the gas pedal, heading the truck toward the rear of the empty parking lot. Though she’d never had a real interest in learning to drive, she’d adored the three weeks of lessons Seth had given her, and not just because it meant spending time with him—sneaking off together almost every day to a nearby church lot after shoot. The rush of picking up speed, of having utter control of a vehicle was incredible.

She’d also discovered driving was a good way to blow off steam when she’d had a long day or when she needed to relax, like tonight when she was anxious about her Jenna Markham interview the next day. If she did drugs, she’d guess she’d been high when she agreed to do the damn thing. It wasn’t drugs—it was Seth.

“Now, ease on the brakes.” He sat next to her, his knee bouncing with obvious anxiety.

She threw her foot on the brake pedal, her head lashing forward from the sudden stop.

“Ease! I said ease!” He shot his hand out to brace himself on the dash. “You’d think you’d have that down by now.”

“Come on, my way is more fun.” The best part of their lessons was messing with Seth, who seemed to find her preferred method of driving quite stressful.

“It’s more like a roller coaster ride, yes, but that doesn’t necessarily make it more fun.”

“Are you sure? Let’s find out. Hold on!” With a saucy grin, she turned the truck toward the center of the empty lot. Gaining speed, she did her best attempt at a donut. “Woo hoo!”

Seth curled his fingers into her thigh, his other hand still gripping the dashboard. “What are you…? Heather! Oh, my God, you’re going to kill us. Heather, stop!”

She slammed her foot on the brake again, not because she didn’t know how to slow down, but because she enjoyed seeing Seth’s pained expression.

“Okay, I can’t take this anymore. We’re done for the day. Trade me places.”

“Killjoy.” Heather put the truck in park, turned off the car, and scooted out from under the wheel. She inched her dress up so she could move over Seth, who sat in the middle of the bench. Instead of continuing over him, she twisted to straddle him and stayed.

“Whatcha doin?” he asked, his hands already finding their way to her ass.

“It seems my teacher’s a little stressed.” She ran her hands down his arms, thrilling in the feel of the tight muscles poking out underneath the sleeves of his T-shirt. “Maybe I can help him relax.”

“Hmm, hard to say since you’re the reason he needs to relax.” He ran his fingers up and down her back in delicious random strokes. “I’m surprised you aren’t stressed, what with your big interview tomorrow and all.”

Heather was definitely nervous about the Jenna Markham interview. She’d turned down the request so many times that when Lexie finally told them yes on Heather’s behalf, Jenna’s people had to call back and make sure it was legit. It had been a pretty big change of heart. Before she’d met Seth, Heather would never have considered spilling her guts to Jenna on national television. Now, she was okay with the whole idea. More than okay—she was actually looking forward to it.

“The Jenna Markham thing? Piece of cake.”

“Well, then, if you’re stress-free, maybe you can help me join you.”

She smiled then leaned in to claim his mouth, letting her smile disappear into his. She started the kiss soft and sweet, gently grazing his lips before she let her tongue tango with his, building into a fire that spread through her chest right down to her center.

God, she loved kissing him.

Loved.

That word. Seth had said she wanted to be loved. She hadn’t stopped thinking about it in the three weeks that had followed their camp date. The three glorious weeks that had followed. They had spent every free moment together on set, and though no one said anything, their affair wasn’t a secret from the cast and crew. Good thing everyone had non-disclosure contracts, otherwise Seth and Heather would be plastered all over the gossip mags by now.

They were careful off set, always leaving separately, meeting up in private locations. The lot where they practiced driving was always empty. Seth hadn’t been to her house and she hadn’t been to his, still spending their nights apart for fear of a paparazzi bust. Instead, her trailer had become their love nest. There were as many of his possessions there as hers, his clothes littered the bedroom floor, his body wash hung in the bathroom caddy. She would live there with him if she could. Holed up with all she ever needed—a kitchen, a bed, and Seth. As it was, they were always the last to leave the lot at night.

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