Page 53 of Second Act
That was dangerous thinking. He was not just Hugh. He would never be just Hugh again.
By the time she had pulled on her trousers and shrugged into her shirt, Hugh was put back together without any sign that he’d just had explosive standing sex. Grabbing her purse, she rummaged around to find her brush.
“Let me,” he said, holding out his hand.
“You’re going to fix my hair?” But she handed him the brush.
“I’ve spent a lot of time with stylists,” he said, taking her shoulders and turning her around so her back was to him. Delicious tingles danced over her scalp as he stroked the brush down through her tangled tresses, stopping to unravel the occasional knot with deft fingers.
“I think I might have another orgasm right now,” she said, her eyelids fluttering closed so she could savor the pampering. There was a moment’s stillness before she felt his fingertips on her scalp, massaging ever so gently. “That, yes,” she said on a happy exhalation.
“You see, I remember how much you loved to have your hair brushed.” His voice was a low rumble close to her ear. “Although you weren’t quite as vocal about it then.”
A confusion of emotions and memories tumbled through her. The times she would come home from work and Hugh would sit her down on a kitchen chair, put a glass of wine in her hand, and go fetch her brush from the bedroom. Not only did he brush it until she sagged into boneless relaxation, but then he would braid it, the gentle tugging on her scalp an extended pleasure.
But he’d stopped doing it after his career began to take off. Instead, he would comment on her lack of makeup or suggest that they shop for a new outfit for her to wear to an upcoming Hollywood party.
She shoved the corrosive thoughts back into the dark corner where she tried to corral the guilt and pain from the end of their relationship.
The first lilting notes of a waltz drifted into their velvet antechamber, making it seem as though they were enclosed in a small, exquisite music box. “The play’s starting.” She could hear anticipation in his voice.
“Then let’s go see it.” She stood and took the brush from him.
“Intermission can’t come soon enough,” he said with a hot smile, but he opened the inner door for her.
She stepped through to find herself in a small box looking down on the stage. Four velvet-and-gilt armchairs were set in a precise arrangement, with two at the front of the box and two behind. Hugh leaned past her to shift the two front chairs to the side. “Sit here next to me,” he said, indicating one of the back row chairs. “I don’t want to be seen. It might distract the audience from the play.”
She sank onto the cushioned seat while his fame pressed down on her shoulders like a fifty-pound bag of kibble. She eyed him surreptitiously in the dim glow cast by the spotlights trained on the still-closed curtain. It struck her as awful to be that famous.
He seemed to sense her gaze, because he reached out and took her hand, resting it on her chair’s arm, his fingers tucked around hers.
The curtain went up, and his grip tightened slightly as he leaned forward, his attention on the stage.
She tried to keep her focus on the drama playing out before them, but after about ten minutes, she caught a flash of movement out of the corner of her eye. Turning slightly, she watched as Hugh mimicked a gesture one of the actors had just made. He must have been trying it out to add to his own repertoire. He’d said at dinner that the young actor cast as the lead was brilliant. It seemed that Hugh was willing to learn from him. Her respect for his dedication to his craft surged, and she squeezed his hand.
Hugh swung around to catch her watching him and lifted her hand to his lips for a brief but potent kiss. However, his attention went back to the play almost immediately. Jessica angled herself in her chair so she could watch him and the action on the stage at the same time. Several more times he imitated movements, but on a couple of occasions he shook his head and frowned.
When the curtain came down for intermission, Hugh rose and pulled her up with him. “Let’s go someplace more private,” he said with a wicked smile as he led her through the door to the antechamber.
But reality had laid a cold blanket on her reactions to him. When he wound his arms around her, she braced her forearms against his chest to hold him away. “I want to know what you didn’t like about the play.”
His eyebrows drew down. “What I didn’t like?”
“You shook your head a couple of times. Why?”
“Good God, I don’t remember or care right now.” His gaze drifted to her lips. “I have better things to do.”
She shook her head. “You were copying gestures, which was fascinating. But I’m curious about what earned your disapproval.”
His grip on her eased slightly as he thought. “The moment when Finn sees Catriona for the first time. I thought he reacted wrong. He doesn’t give a damn about anything other than possessing her body, but he played it as a mooning, love-struck boy. It was too soft and emotional for the ruthless man Finn is.” He focused on her again. “Now can I get back to possessingyourbody?”
Before she could stop him, he brought his mouth down against her neck, sipping at her skin. Her body forgot all about the burden of Hugh’s celebrity and ignited with the same pure lust Finn had felt for Catriona. But she kept her arms between them. “Isn’t it hard to be so famous?” she gasped out as electric desire ricocheted down into her gut.
Hugh grunted and drew her earlobe in between his lips.
“Oh, Hugh, there!” She tilted her head so he could have better access, and he responded by tracing the whorls of her ear with his tongue.
All the words she’d planned to use as a barrier between them evaporated, and she found herself straddling his lap while he sat on one of the little chairs and drove up inside her. His hands massaged her breasts, winding the tension tighter and tighter until her orgasm crashed through her. He kept still as her muscles clenched around him but then burst into a whirlwind of motion, driving hard and deep until he climaxed with his mouth open over her nipple, his groans vibrating against her.
