“I’m going to come, Mick. Keep f**king me like that.”
She felt her pu**y clamp down around his cock, a wild spiral of sensation taking over, and she came with a wild cry.
Mick slammed his mouth over hers, sucking on her tongue as he rocked against her, shoving deep inside her with a groan as he hit his climax and wrapped his arms around her, lifting her off the ground while thrusting hard and deep inside her.
Out of breath, her legs tingling, she went with him when he carried her to the bed and fell on it, her on top of him, both of them panting and damp with sweat.
Tara didn’t speak for a few minutes, content to just feel Mick’s heartbeat against her while he stroked her back.
“I think I wrinkled your dress,” he finally said.
She laughed. “I don’t think I care. But we might be sweating on Mr. Stokes’s bedspread.”
“I don’t care, and I’m sure he doesn’t.”
They cleaned up in the very nice and not at all typical airline bathroom. Tara smoothed her hair and dress to the best of her ability, but it was quite obvious from her pink cheeks and slightly puffy lips that she had a just-fucked look about her.
“I definitely look like I just had sex. How will I ever face the flight crew?”
“The flight crew is paid very well not to notice anything. Let’s go have a drink before we land. You made me thirsty.”
She laughed and took his hand, suddenly very thirsty herself.
THE ONE THING TARA LEARNED VERY QUICKLY UPON arrival in Los Angeles was that Mick’s agent was one hell of a planner. A limo met them at the plane and whisked them off to an incredibly ritzy hotel, where she was pulled away from Mick by an entire team of makeup and hair people. She was tossed into the shower, and afterward was buffed, puffed, and polished to within an inch of her life. She’d had her makeup professionally applied, her hair done, and she even had a woman come in and dress her.
She wondered if this was the lifestyle movie stars grew accustomed to. It certainly was nice to be pampered and all, though it was a bit overwhelming. By the time she stood in front of the mirror dressed in some shockingly expensive designer gown and adorned with jewelry she didn’t even want to know the cost of, she had to admit they’d done wonders on her, because she didn’t even look like herself. Airbrushing did magical things to a person’s complexion. The scar over her eyebrow she had gotten as a child when she fell off her swing set had been expertly obliterated. Her eyes looked huge and ... beautiful, and her eyelashes—whoa. No amount of standing in front of the mirror with a mascara wand could ever hope to replicate the magic of false eyelashes.
The copper-colored strapless gown cinched in at her bust, waist, and hips, then fell in magical waves to the floor, and was the most beautiful thing Tara had ever worn. And the shoes—God, the shoes. Strappy and stiletto with a cute bow over the toes. They matched the dress, and she wanted to sleep with them until she died.
“Thank you all—so much. I feel like Cinderella tonight. You all worked so hard to make me look pretty, and I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this.”
The staff of makeup and hair and dressers all grinned back at her, hugged and kissed her, then left the suite. Tara inhaled, let it out, then turned once more to the mirror.
“Holy shit, woman.”
She whirled at the sound of Mick’s voice.
He stood at the entryway to the bedroom. Again, she was struck by how utterly amazing the man looked wearing a tux. His broad shoulders filled the jacket so well, and he was tall enough to carry the elegance of the outfit, his black hair combed perfectly, his blue eyes even more striking against the solid black of the tux. He strolled in and walked around her as she stood in the center of the room, then came to her, lifted her hand, and pressed a kiss to her fingers.
“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
She felt herself warm. “I am not. But I sure feel that way tonight. Thank you for this.”
“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, because you appreciate this in ways no woman I’ve ever been with before can appreciate it.”
She felt the sting of tears. “Don’t make me cry, or you’ll have to call that entire horde of people back to fix me.”
He held out his arm. “Ready to go have some fun?”
“Yes.”
SEVEN
TARA DIDN’T KNOW WHAT TO EXPECT, HAVING NEVER been to a movie premiere before. The flashbulbs going off in her face and the seemingly thousands of questions asked about who she was and what her relationship was to Mick were overwhelming and kind of surprising. She’d expected the movie stars to be blasted by the media. But her? She was a nobody.
Then again, Mick was famous. The media would want to know who his companion was.
Mick seemed very comfortable, smiling and waving to fans and posing for the cameras. And when asked about Tara, he seemed fine with introducing her—to everyone, including national reporters, magazines, even entertainment television.
Oh. My. God.
Tara wanted to crawl back in the limo, go back to the suite, and watch other people on TV. She did not want to see herself on television, though she was certain the cameras were way more interested in the movie and TV stars and models in attendance, and not her. She was not news. And fortunately, all the media people figured that out soon enough and ran off after the real celebrities so Tara could breathe.
What she did enjoy was ogling the cream of the crop of Hollywood, who stood just feet from her, giving interviews and smiling for the cameras. So when she wasn’t having cameras popping off in her face, she wished she’d thought to bring her own camera and take some pictures for Maggie and Ellen and Karie to see. Though she supposed it might have been inappropriate for her to rush up to the stars of the movie and take a candid shot of them with her mini camera.
When they finally got inside, Mick led them to their seats, and oh, the movie was wonderful. And the time spent with Mick was great. He held her hand or put his arm around her, and they both laughed at the movie, which was funny and so romantic. It was a perfect night, and Tara felt like she really was Cinderella. Mick even leaned over a few times during the movie and kissed her. She couldn’t have asked for a better date, and she’d remember this night forever.
When the movie was over, everyone shuffled out and headed for their limos.
Tara leaned against Mick, her arm entwined with his, as they slid into their car.