Suddenly Famous: A Famous Novella (Famous Series Book 5) Page 5
“Yes.” She lifts her head from the couch and kisses my neck, pulling a long, deep moan from my throat.
Fuck.
So much for going slow. I jump off of the couch and hold out a hand. Leah’s gaze darkens and she takes it, letting me pull her to her feet. Grabbing her hips, I jerk her towards me so she can feel just how much I want her. The pressure of her body against my eager cock sends a jolt of electricity to my groin.
“God, I want you so bad, Leah. I have since you first spoke to me at the club.”
She pushes me away and takes my hand, walking backwards down a short hall while pulling me along. “Me too,” she rasps, her voice rough with desire.
When we get to her bedroom, she toes off her shoes. I do the same, cursing myself silently for wearing lace-up boots. By the time I get the damn things off, Leah is sitting on her bed, wearing only a turquoise bra and panty set that makes the blue of her eyes jump out against the stark white of the sheets.
“Jesus,” I mutter, hastily unbuttoning my jeans, tripping to get them off. I grab the hem of my shirt, ready to tear it over my head when Leah crawls to the end of the bed and stops me.
“Wait!” She reaches for my arm and pulls me until I’m standing with my thighs against the mattress, with her kneeling in front of me on the bed. Leah tilts her head up and stares at me. Her tiny pink tongue makes a quick swipe across her bottom lip. “I want to do that for you.” Leah’s hands bunch up in my shirt as she slowly, teasingly, lifts the fabric up, dragging her thumbnails over my ribs as she goes.
“God,” I whisper, shuddering from the scrape of her nails on my sensitive flesh. She releases me from her torture, pulling the shirt all the way over my head and carelessly tossing it to the floor.
“You’re perfect,” she murmurs, running her small hands all over my chest and abs, tracing each line carefully while I struggle to keep still.
“I was going to say the same.” Unable to keep our contact to these torturous light touches, I grab the back of her head and mash my lips to hers, tearing the elastic out of her hair so the blonde waves can cascade over her shoulders.
Primal groans fill the room, heating the air until it crackles with electricity. It takes me a moment to realize that I’m the one making those harsh noises. I release her mouth and climb up onto the bed, so turned on it feels as if my cock might explode from the slightest touch.
Leah shuffles back until she’s lying in the center of the king-sized mattress, her golden hair spread in a fan over the pillows.
“You’re so beautiful,” I tell her, running my hands up and down her gorgeous curves. I lift one of her legs to my mouth, licking my way to the back of her knee. She whimpers when I bite there, and then suck on the delicate skin.
“Ryker, please,” she begs, her hands fisting the sheets and her eyes blazing with need.
I release her leg so I can lie on top of her, slowly bringing my hips down to rest on hers. “Is this what you want?” I ask, rolling my hips so my hard length grinds against her hot core, the thin fabric of our underwear the only thing separating us.
“God, yes.”
I shift my hips again, harder this time, the friction so glorious that I nearly lose my ability to talk. “Are you sure?”
“God, Ryker, yes! Stop fucking teasing me!” she cries.
Lowering my upper body to rest on my elbows, I kiss her thoroughly. Less frantic than before, our mouths move in sync, hot and wet as we both moan in pleasure. I slide my hands under Leah’s back, unhooking her bra and slipping it down her arms.
Overwhelmed at the gorgeous sight of her, I quickly dive down, taking one of the tight buds in my mouth, nipping at it while I gently squeeze the other breast with my hand. Switching sides, I do the same to the other pink nipple, laving it with my tongue until Leah begs me to stop.
Frantic, she shoves me back until I sit on my heels. “Enough,” she says, her lips red and swollen, her eyes fierce with determination. She hooks her thumbs in her panties and yanks them down, tossing them over the edge of the bed. “Now you,” she demands, pointing at my red boxer briefs.
Shocked, but turned on at the sudden change in personality, I comply, sliding the briefs off while she watches. She stares at my cock with a hungry look in her eyes, that damn tongue darting out again to moisten her lips. Leah reaches over to open the nightstand drawer, tossing a condom onto the bed.
Sitting up, she grabs the back of my neck with one hand and my cock with the other. Leah falls back onto the bed, pulling me down on top of her, never releasing her tight grip.
“Oh my God, Leah,” I moan. She attacks my mouth and neck, raining dozens of sharp bites and soft kisses everywhere while stroking my cock in a perfect rhythm. My hips buck into her hand with a mind of their own, the pleasure so intense that I can’t think of anything but her, her touch, her mouth, her body. When she runs her thumb over my slit, swiping pre-cum on the engorged head, I nearly lose it.
“Stop.” Leah immediately releases my cock and lays back on the bed, a wicked gleam in her eyes and a tiny smirk on the corner of her swollen mouth.
I grab the condom, hurrying to get it on, making sure to give the base of my cock a quick squeeze to bring me back from the edge. Taking several deep breaths, I wait a minute, letting my body calm down enough to regain control of my actions.
“Sorry,” I tell Leah, my face flaming up with embarrassment at the close call. “It’s been a while.”
She looks at me incredulously, but thankfully, doesn’t say a word. Kneeling between her legs, I nudge them further apart before I cover her body with mine once more. I trace one hand down her side, skimming over her breast, her slim waist, her round hips, until I rest it at the apex of her thighs.
“Are you sure you’re ready?” I ask, swiping a finger into her slick cleft. “Fuck. Jesus, you’re so ready.” I slide my hand over every wet fold, finding the tiny nub and circling it gently, using the lightest of touches.
Leah’s body convulses and her legs stiffen. She hurriedly lifts them, wrapping them around my waist. “Now, please.” Her voice is barely a whisper, raspy and deep.
I remove my hand and trace a damp circle over her breast with my wet finger, then greedily lap up the moisture left behind. “God, you taste so good. Next time, I’m going to lick every part of you.”
“Just fuck me, Ryker.” Leah grabs a handful of my hair and fists it, the sharp pain sending hot arcs of ecstasy down my spine and straight to my dick.
“You got it,” I grunt. I place my cock at her entrance and push in, just enough so the swollen head breaches her opening. I tangle my hands in her hair and lower my mouth to hers. Our tongues twist and duel for dominance as I snap my hips forward, burying to the hilt.
“Ohmygoddontstop.” Her words rush out in an incoherent jumble. Leah tightens her legs around my waist, pressing her heels into my ass so I’ll start moving.
“Greedy little thing, aren’t you?”
“God Ryker, if you don’t start moving, I’m going to lose my mind,” she complains, her eyes closed as she bites her lip in frustration.
“That’s the point,” I whisper. “But, I want you too badly to wait any longer, so you get your way.”
Digging my knees into the mattress for leverage, I start a sensual rhythm, slow at first then driving in and out faster based on cues from Leah. When her hands tighten in my hair and she throws her head back, I know she’s close. Seconds later, she bows her back and lets out a long, expletive-laced moan. I thrust hard, grinding against her clit until she loses it, screaming and calling out my name as her pussy convulses around my cock.
The tight squeeze on my dick, the filthy things she says, the look on her gorgeous face as she comes apart… all of it sends me spiraling into one of the most intense orgasms of my life. Sparks flash behind my eyelids and white-hot electricity gathers in my balls, exploding in jets of pleasure out of my cock. I grip her hips with my fingers to thrust in one final time before collapsing on top of her, exhausted.
As we catch our breath, Leah combs her fingers through my sweaty hair, pushing it back from my forehead.
“I must be crushing you,” I say, shifting to roll off.
“No.” Leah keeps her legs and arms tight around me. “Don’t go yet. You’re not hurting me.”
I rest my head on her chest and listen to the rapid beating of her heart, noting how it gradually slows to a normal pace. Carefully, I pull out and tie the condom in a knot, dropping it over the edge of the bed. I pull Leah on top of me, so I can run my fingers over the soft skin.
“Mmmmm,” she groans, “that feels so good.”
“Yes, yes it does.”
For the first time in a long time, my mind is blank as I pass out.
Chapter 8
When I wake up, it’s dark out and I’m starving. For a minute, I forget where I am, scanning the unfamiliar surroundings. Then I feel the heat of Leah’s body curled up next to me and I remember. Oh boy do I remember. My cock remembers too, because it’s primed and ready to go, pressed against Leah’s ass.
Ignoring my hard-on, I scrub my hand down my face, and then up through my hair.
God, I almost got killed yesterday!
Stress like that usually makes sleeping impossible. The dreams get worse after bad days, especially a day like yesterday, but, I didn’t have any dreams last night. No waking up in a pool of sweat, no thrashing and screaming, no shooting out of bed with my heart flailing wildly. How long has it been since I’ve gotten a good night’s sleep, one without having to medicate myself?
Longer than I can remember.
I watch Leah sleep peacefully. Her lashes are fanned out over her cheeks and her face is calm and relaxed. She’s so gorgeous it almost hurts to look at her. I reach for my phone on the nightstand to check the time. Five in the morning. Shit, no wonder I’m starving. We didn’t even eat dinner last night.
Leah turns and throws an arm over my chest, snuggling closer. I put the phone down to find her looking at me with a sleepy, sexy half-smile on her face. “Hey,” she rasps, her voice not quite awake.
“Hey.”
“You sleep okay?” She stretches and hooks a leg over one of mine. My dick twitches in response.
“Yeah, I slept great.”
“I’m starving,” she complains.
My stomach answers for me, growling in agreement.
Her eyes go wide and she laughs. “Well, I guess that answers the question of whether or not you’re hungry too.”
I laugh with her. “Guess so.”
“I have to be into work early, want to come with me to grab a bite?”
I tense up, carefully considering my options. “How busy will it be?” I try to keep my tone neutral so she won’t see how nervous going out makes me.
Leah’s no dummy. She cocks an eyebrow, the lights of the city coming in the windows just enough to let me see that questioning look. “Why? Does it matter?” she asks.
I shift to face her, both of us lying on our sides. “It can. Honestly Leah, I can’t really go out in public.”
There, I’ve said it. Now she can kick my ass out and find a nice normal guy to hang with. One without a shitbag full of problems and a hysterical flock of psychotic fans.
“Well, I guess I didn’t really think about it, but yeah, I can see how you probably can’t go out much.”
The shock on my face must show, because she giggles and runs a finger down my cheek. “You’re not the first person I’ve known with that problem, Ry.”
“What? Who?”
“Ummmm, Drew for one, he’s always coming up with ridiculous places to go where no one will recognize him. Adam can’t do much either, and now Sydney won’t really be able to go out without issues.” She bites her lip thoughtfully, flicking her eyes up to meet mine.
“Oh. That’s true, but…” How do I explain that being with me means being with screaming, scratching, pawing fans 24/7?
“But what?” Her gaze is so hopeful, so honest, I can’t let her go, not yet. And if she witnessed what happened yesterday in front of her building, she’d probably run and never look back.
“Nothing. Let’s go.” I give her a pathetic smile.
“Shower first?” she asks, shooting me a suggestive look.
I lick my lips and stare back at her, my body responding before I’ve even answered. “You’re reading my mind.”
“I’ll grab a condom,” she says, rolling out of the bed to dig through her nightstand.
“I’ll grab you,” I say casually, darting after her as she runs into the bathroom squealing.
Turns out, I didn’t need to worry about going to Leah’s cafe. She called a cab and had it meet us behind her building where no one could see us. According to the night concierge, some of the crazy women were still out front waiting (I call it stalking, but whatever). The cab dropped us off right at the Village Coffee Bar, where we dashed across the sidewalk, straight into her tiny office next to the kitchen.
“This is nice,” I tell her, relaxing with a large cup of coffee and a raspberry muffin.
“Yeah, I like it here,” she says miserably.
“You don’t sound as if you like it.” I say, curious about her response. Hell, I’m curious about everything she says and does, driven to know more about this intriguing woman.
Leah picks at a tear in her desk calendar, slowly ripping the paper into tiny bits. “I like it, but I’m tired, Ry. I realized when I was visiting Sydney in California just how tired I was. Getting up at five every morning, working late, working weekends, on the phone with suppliers, dealing with employees…” She sits back in her chair and drops her hands into her lap. “I was at the hospital, visiting my best friend in the world, who was recovering from a horrific attack. When I went back to the hotel to sleep at night all I could think about was, thank God I don’t have to get up early to go to work tomorrow.”
“That’s nothing to feel guilty about, Leah.”
“Like hell it’s not!” she snaps. Her troubled expression softens. “I think it’s more of a reflection of how physically drained I am, not that I’m a bad friend. I’d do anything for Sydney.”
“I know you would.” I watch her struggle with her emotions, with what must be an impossible decision to make.
“I think I’m going to sell the café,” she says matter of factly. “I’m twenty-five years old and I’m fucking exhausted.”
“You’re twenty-five?” I ask, surprised.
“Well, yeah.” Her nose scrunches up adorably. “How old did you think I was?”
Her piercing gaze holds me in place, forcing me to respond to a question with no right answer. Women hate when you guess their age. “I thought you were closer to my age.”
“Which is?”
A sarcastic laugh escapes my throat before I can stop it. “You mean you don’t know? God that’s weird. Most women know everything about me, and that’s not a good thing. I’m twenty-one.”
“Ha!” she laughs, covering her mouth with her hand. “I’m a cougar!”
My brow furrows in confusion, then shock. “Cougar? Wait? What? No you aren’t!” Leah keeps laughing, so hard in fact, that she chokes on her coffee and it takes five full minutes for her to regain her composure.
I get up from my chair to stalk over to her side of the desk, where she’s still red-faced from her coughing fit. “Cougar, huh? You think?” I lean down close and put my hands on the arms of her chair, trapping her. “You want to be a cougar? Because I can make that happen for you. I don’t mind being a kept man.”
Leah’s laugh cuts short and her eyes go wide. A heartbeat later, her mouth curls up into a smile. “Shut up! You’re teasing.” She shoves at my chest and I burst out laughing. “Kept man… in your dreams Bancroft!”
“Had you going though, didn’t I? But, you don’t really care that I’m younger than you, do you?” I sit back down in my chair, nervously sipping my coffee. What if she says yes? Shit.
Leah’s eyes narrow in annoyance. She shoots me a loo
k that dares me to argue with her. “No, I could care less. If I didn’t like you, I wouldn’t hang out with you. Age means nothing, personality means everything, Ryker. Money, fame, age, beauty, hair…” she smirks, giving my trademark tousled hair a quick glance, “they’re all fleeting and meaningless. I’ve gone out with rich guys that have shitty personalities and I dumped them after a few dates. I’ve gone out with less fortunate guys with rocking personalities that I’ve stayed with for a year. Money doesn’t buy compatibility.”
I drop my eyes, embarrassed to have all my previous notions proven wrong by this girl. Of course she doesn’t care about age or money or any of that shit, she’s perfect. “No, it doesn’t buy much of anything actually. Except a pretty nice apartment to hide in.”
“Ry,” Leah says, suddenly right next to me, leaning on the front of her desk. “It’ll get better. I promise.”
I put my cup down on the desk and wrap my hands around her waist, hauling her onto my lap. “It’s already gotten better.” Leah squirms as I run my lips up her neck so I can nibble on her ear. “Much, much better.”
She turns and straddles my lap, slipping her hands under my shirt to palm my chest.
“The door is locked,” she whispers.
Oh yeah, definitely much better.
Chapter 9
“We’re leaving next week on Thursday, so make sure you’ve packed everything you need.”
“Britt, isn’t that what I have you for?” I recline on my couch so I can put my feet on the coffee table, holding the phone to one ear while randomly flipping through channels on the T.V. with the other.
Britt snorts loudly. “No Ry, that’s not why you have me. I manage your schedule, transportation, special events, deal with the studio, deal with Tasha, and take your calls… I don’t pack your jammies for you. You’re a big boy, I’m confident that you can handle it.”
“Fine, but when I show up on set wearing only my underwear because you wouldn’t help me, I’m telling everyone it’s your fault.” I listen to her laugh and settle in to watch a Yankees spring training game.