The Redhead Revealed Page 4

  Get your sweet ass back here. Room 2104.

  Don’t make me come looking for you—

  I will make a scene.

  I will identify this motherfucking redhead.

  I thought I was being all subtle and shit. Dammit, he knew me too well.

  You are never subtle.

  Good point.

  I finished my loop, made my way through the front entrance into the beautiful lobby, then found the bank of elevators. I thought fondly of our hotel in Santa Barbara, and the fact that the hotel sex had been unfathomably great. Hmm…We might have to sleep here tonight, instead of my place.

  I approached his door and knocked lightly. I could hear him on the phone, and when he opened the door, he smiled and pulled me in, but continued his conversation. I admired the room. It was well appointed and had a great view of the park. I checked out the bathroom: huge. It also had a rain shower like the one in Santa Barbara. Yep, I was definitely staying here with him. I didn’t care if I had to enter the building separately every day wrapped in a giant poncho.

  I went back into the main room and saw Jack standing by the window, still on the phone. He mouthed the words, “I’m sorry,” and I shook my head with a smile. “No problem,” I mouthed back.

  With a running leap I vaulted myself onto the giant bed, landing smack in the middle with a belly flop. It was soft and inviting, covered in pillows and a silky duvet. I heard a snicker behind me and turned to see Jack looking amused at my acrobatic feat. I curled up on my side and waved at him. He smiled back and mouthed, “five minutes.”

  I snickered, getting a delightful idea. I rose up on my knees, then sat on the on the side of the bed, within grasping distance of him. “It’s hot in here,” I mouthed.

  “More AC?” he mouthed back, starting toward the thermostat.

  “No, I’m going to get totally naked while you try to carry on your conversation,” I half mouthed, half whispered. I didn’t want him to miss that part.

  His eyes widened as I proceeded to do exactly that. First the jacket and scarf came off, then the sneakers. My shirt came off next, followed quickly by the yoga pants of my usual uniform. I could see him beginning to have trouble following his conversation, and I knew my plan was working. I sat on the edge of the bed in my white panties and white lacy bra, and I beckoned him over with one finger. He stalled, trying to decide what to do.

  In the end, the boy won out over the man, and he stood in front of me, still on the damn phone. “I’m sorry, love. It shouldn’t be much longer,” he mouthed.

  I smiled sweetly up at him, snaking my hands around his waist and bringing him closer to me. “It’s okay. Take your time,” I whispered. “I’m just going to do things to you while you carry on,” I said, to his horror and delight all wrapped into one.

  He attempted to back up, but I quickly unzipped him and had my hand around him through his boxers before he could move very far. His eyes closed quickly, and he hardened completely in my hand.

  God, you really had to love a twenty-four year old.

  Yep, and I really had to love this one in particular.

  I stroked him firmly, watching his face contort. He was a little distracted, you see. I pumped him, both hands inside his pants now, and I could see he was really going to have some trouble soon.

  “Mm-hmm, mm-hmm, so I would need to be there for the London premiere on which day? Oh, God…I mean, sorry. Oh, God, that’s fine. I can be there then…” He moaned, and I took pity. His eyes rolled back in his head as I stood up and pushed him gently away.

  “Meet me in the shower when you’re through,” I whispered, removing my bra and throwing it over my shoulder as I walked toward the bathroom. I used to be so concerned about men seeing me naked—always worried about what was sticking out, what was jiggling, what was smushed. But with Jack? I knew all he wanted was me, and he preferred me naked. Totally liberating.

  I stopped at the door and slowly slid my panties down, looking behind me to see Jack. He stood in the middle of the room, mouth hanging slightly open, with his pants around his ankles. He looked totally turned on and slightly mortified at the same time.

  I stifled a giggle and twirled my panties around my finger, now totally exposed to him. His eyes traveled down my body and back up to my eyes. “Hurry up,” I mouthed, and slipped into the bathroom.

  I’d barely gotten the water started and was adjusting the temperature when I heard the door open. I smiled as I let the water pour over me, steam filling up the large glass enclosure. I felt a very warm and very naked Jack press against my back, and my breath caught in my throat.

  “You are diabolical,” he muttered, dragging his tongue up the side of my neck.

  I shivered, as he spun me roughly around. “Next time, get off faster,” I said, pulling him under the spray with me.

  “No one is getting off fast, love. Certainly not you,” he promised, dipping his head to kiss the hollow of my neck.

  Oh, man, this was going to be a great weekend.

  ~ ~ ~

  Waterlogged and weak-kneed, we left the shower about an hour later, having thoroughly enjoyed the hotel’s giant water heaters. I’d lost track of how many times the Brit made me see stars, and I was a little concerned that I now had an outline of shower tiles permanently etched into my bum.

  We were punch drunk and slaphappy as we stumbled back into the bedroom, both laughing at the lunacy of our actions.

  “Seriously, George, you haven’t been in New York more than a few hours, and we’re already working through our greatest hits!” I giggled, falling onto the bed and struggling to get under the covers. My hair was wound up in a towel, and I wore a plush Four Seasons robe. He walked around to his side of the bed, pulling the covers down as he went, and climbed in next to me.

  “I’ve been working you in my mind for weeks now, love, and I have a whole set of newest hits for us to try this weekend.” He smirked dangerously. I was in for it. We might never leave this hotel. “Besides, I missed you like crazy!” he added. “Now that I have you in my clutches, I may not let you go again. And speaking of clutches, bring those fantastic tits over here,” he muttered, pulling open my robe as he pressed his body against me. He turned me on my side, his hands finding my breasts, and then…

  Perfection. All was right with the world.

  We were both asleep in minutes.

  ~ ~ ~

  I woke up groggy and confused, as I often do when I nap in the afternoon. I felt Jack’s strong arms around me, and for a second I thought I was back in L.A. But the light was different, and when I looked around me, I remembered where we were. I felt my heart stutter a bit, reminding me we weren’t together all the time anymore, but then it started up again as I thought about the rest of the long weekend we still had.

  Mmm…

  I rolled away carefully, trying not to wake him. I made it to the edge of the bed before I felt his hands pull me back to him. I giggled.

  “Where do you think you’re going, Nuts Girl?” he asked, his voice thick with sleep.

  “Just to brush out my hair. I’m sure it’s quite lovely from falling asleep with it wet.” I attempted to run my fingers through it, and I could tell it was sticking out every which way. Charming.

  “I think it looks cute—sort of a cross between finger-in-the-socket and homeless,” he said, pulling me back against him and pushing me into the pillows.

  “Scoot, please,” he instructed, pressing me onto my back and laying his head on my chest. He nudged my neck up so he could snuggle into the nook. I let him wiggle about for a minute until he finally settled in.

  “Comfortable?” I asked, with a quiet smile.

  “Incredibly so, yes,” he said, wrapping his arms more tightly around my waist.

  I chanced a quick look at the alarm clock and saw that it was already four-thirty. We’d effectively wasted the day on showers and naptime. Just then, my stomach let out a loud growl. Jack moved a little lower on my body, kissed my tummy, then looked sternly at my
navel. Pointing a finger, he said, “Shhh, don’t be rude.”

  I giggled when seconds later my stomach growled again. Jack rolled his eyes, then poked at me. “I said quiet down,” he ordered, kissing my tummy once more.

  “Sweetie, I need to eat something. How are you not hungry? We both skipped lunch, and you flew all night!” I said.

  “Actually, I’m starving now that you mention it. Fancy a snack?”

  “I fancy a snack,” I affirmed, removing his arms from my waist and snatching the room service menu from the nightstand.

  “Are we going out for dinner tonight?” I asked, flipping through the menu to the snacky stuff.

  “That’s entirely your call. I made no plans other than an interview I have to do Saturday morning,” he answered, scratching my back.

  “Are we in a salty mood or a dessert-y mood?” I asked, chewing my lip thoughtfully.

  “Both. Just order what sounds good to you, and I’ll eat whatever,” he said, looking at me carefully.

  “What’re you looking at? Don’t make another comment about my hair. I’ll fix it before we leave this room.” I frowned, trying again to run my fingers through it.

  “No, it’s just…well…it’s just really fucking great to see you, Gracie.” He smiled gently at me, his eyes bright green.

  “Aw, I missed you too, George. I really did,” I whispered, kissing him softly, breathing in his warm S’more-y smell. There was really no way I would ever eat a S’more again without wanting to have sex with it.

  If the marshmallow just came off the flames, that could hurt…

  I was drawn back from my marshmallow contemplation by his lips pressing more urgently against mine, and my tummy growling again.

  “Okay, I’m calling in this order, and then we’re going to plan our evening. And we are leaving this room, Hamilton. We’re in Manhattan! We aren’t staying in all night,” I warned, picking up the phone.

  “Sheridan, if I wanted to make you stay in all night with me, all I’d have to do is wave some candy in front of you and then kiss on your sweet boobies. You’d be putty in my hands.” He grinned sexily.

  “There’s candy?” I asked, looking around wildly.

  Jack laughed so hard he fell off the bed.

  I never did find that candy.

  Chapter 4

  We finally left the hotel around eight. We decided to go to my place so I could show him where I was living and pick up some things. I did want him to sleep at my place. I wanted him in my bed and in my shower and on my couch, even if this was all rented furniture. But sweet damn—I wanted another round in that giant shower, and we had all weekend for me to have him S’more up my place.

  Enough with the freaking s’mores.

  This distance thing was making me a little insane.

  We caught a cab in front of the hotel, and it was so quick I didn’t even have time to worry about anyone seeing us. Quite frankly, maybe I did need to relax a little. New York was really different than L.A., and in his ratty jeans and ball cap he looked more college student than famous, so I doubted anyone would recognize him. And he wasn’t worried about being seen with me, so, eh, what the hell?

  We made out like teenagers in the cab on the way to my apartment, although I made him stop when we were in front of my doorman.

  “Lou.” I nodded as we walked inside.

  “Evening, Lou.” Jack nodded as well, and Lou nodded back.

  I kept him at arm’s length in the elevator, and when we finally made it into my apartment, he was like an octopus, arms everywhere. He finally settled in behind me, hands clasped firmly over my tummy, chin planted on my shoulder.

  “Okay, give me the grand tour,” he said.

  “Well, this is pretty much it. It’s not big. I don’t need a lot of space, and it’s close to the rehearsal studio. Kitchen, living room, bathroom down the hall, and bedroom is the last door on the right,” I said.

  “It’s nice,” he said, looking over my shoulder.

  “Eh, it’s okay. It’s no Laurel Canyon. That’s home to me,” I said, leaning back against him.

  “But you haven’t even lived there. How can it be your home when you’ve only slept one night there?” he questioned, kissing my neck right under my ear.

  “Mmm, and what a night it was,” I said as I giggled, leaning into his kiss and turning to wrap my arms around his waist. His hands came to my face and traced tiny patterns on my forehead and temples, bringing me forward into another soft kiss.

  “Yes, yes, it was. But really, how can that be home? I mean, do you really consider L.A. home?” he asked, looking at me with questions in his eyes.

  “Oh, God, yes. It does feel like home. I can’t explain it, but when I first found my house, I knew how much work it was going to be, but I knew it was my home. I could see myself living there, and even though I had to leave, wherever I go, that house is home,” I said. I closed my eyes, thinking of the warm California sun, and I could almost smell the lemon trees on my front porch and the honeysuckle in the backyard.

  I opened my eyes to see Jack studying me carefully.

  “What’s that look for?” I asked, stealing another kiss before he could answer me.

  “So, you are planning on moving back, right?” he asked, running one hand through his hair.

  “Hell yes, ya goofball! I didn’t spend all my savings on a house just to sell it again! I mean, I don’t know how long I’ll be out here, and I love New York, but when this is over? I’ll be back home, for sure.” I laughed, pulling him tightly against me again.

  “What about you?” I asked, my face pressed into his shirt.

  “What about me?” he asked, his breath warm and sweet in my hair.

  “I mean, where are you going to live when all this is over? Will you go back to London after the premiere, or are you planning on staying in L.A.?” I asked, a little afraid to hear the answer.

  “Well, I don’t know, to be honest. That was the plan—London is my home, that’s for sure—but there’s a film we’re in negotiations with that would be filming in L.A. in January.”

  “Wait, so you’re thinking about moving back to London?” I asked, surprised.

  “That’s where I live, Grace. Who knows what’s going to happen after this movie comes out. This could be my swan song. I could peak at twenty-four.”

  “Oh, please. The world is going to need some more Joshua,” I said. Just thinking about Super Sexy Scientist Guy made me giggle, even in the arms of Jack Fucking Hamilton.

  London?

  Shhh.

  “Hmm, we’ll see. Maybe no one’ll come and see it. Maybe they’ll think it’s rubbish,” he muttered.

  “George, please. It will be amazing. And if nothing else, you’re so pretty, they’ll pay just to see you romping around half-naked in your period clothing,” I teased, striking a chord with this one. I knew how much Jack wanted to be taken seriously as an actor, and I was forever telling him how pretty he was, just to mess with him.

  “And I’m sure the men who will be coming to see your show will only be coming to see your acting chops, not your fantastic tits,” he teased back, earning him a very grown-up tongue stick-out.

  “Oh, love, if you’re going to show me your tongue, I may have to give you something to lick,” he continued nastily, wiggling his eyebrows like a villain in an old-timey movie.

  “You’re sick, Hamilton. Truly sick.” I laughed, pulling away from him.

  “So, we’re going to see a movie, yes?” he asked, tooling around my apartment.

  “Yes, there’s a theater about six blocks from here. I’ll check and see what’s playing. Then we can grab something after that, sound good?” I pulled my laptop from my bag and settled in on the couch.

  “Oh, I’ll be grabbing something after the movie, that’s for certain,” he said, sticking his head back around the corner and winking at me.

  “Dirty bird,” I muttered as he disappeared down the hall toward the bedroom.

  “You love it,�
�� he shouted over his shoulder.

  I laughed quietly to myself and signed on. My TMZ homepage came up immediately because I was a sucker for all things celebrity gossip. I could hear Jack putzing in the bedroom, so I figured I could indulge in a few minutes of celeb surfing. Guilty pleasure. I scrolled through the pictures of the latest buzz: An actor checking into rehab, another actor leaving rehab. A singer who’d been threatening to retire for twenty years heading back out on tour. I skipped ahead—not a lot of celebrity news. I was about to zip over to the movie times site when an interesting snippet caught my eye:

  Jack Hamilton seen out on the town with actress Marcia Veracruz. Are these two on again?

  Wait a minute. Back up.

  What?

  Once Time comes out, maybe he can afford to buy a new car! The two were spotted having lunch in Venice a few days ago before climbing into Jack’s old, beat-up MG.

  I felt sick.

  Breathe, just breathe.

  Ever since he was cast as Joshua, women everywhere have been wondering whether this Brit Boy is single. Well, ladies, it appears this time-traveler is spoken for! Just two nights ago, Jack Hamilton was spotted driving away from an L.A. nightclub with his latest gal pal, actress Marcia Veracruz. The two were previously in a confirmed relationship, and although they took a break, it appears things are still hot and heavy between them.

  I really felt sick. I tried to close the laptop, but I couldn’t make my hands move. They were clenched too tightly into fists.

  Ask him. Don’t flip out. Ask him.

  Oh, hell yes, I was gonna ask him.

  I stared at the pictures, really looking at the two of them together. I examined his face: smiling, ball cap pulled securely down over curly hair. I forced myself to look at her, really look at her. She was smiling too, her face inclined toward his as they left some club in L.A. together.

  She was pretty.

  She was really pretty.

  Not good…

  I heard Jack coming down the hallway, and although part of me wanted to clear the screen, pull up Mr. Movie Phone, and shove this whole Marcia thing in my famous mental drawer—The Drawer where everything unpleasant goes to be avoided—but we were past that. We were way past that. And if I’d been honest with myself, not such a chickenshit, we would’ve dealt with this months ago when I saw her text that night in the dark.