Surrender To Temptation (The Glenn Jackson Saga Book 3) Read online

  The denim scraped against my inner thighs, making me shiver as he came down to lay in the cradle of my hips. Smoothing a hand down my side, he stroked the tips of his fingers along the curve of my belly. I was getting thicker there. I’d start to show before long.

  I could tell by the way he was studying me that he had noticed. Trepidation filled me.

  A moment later, he moved down and pressed his lips to my navel. A gasp rose to my lips and tears burned my eyes. I blinked them away and put my hand in his hair, letting the pale strands twine around my fingers.

  “You need to be naked,” he said, his lips still pressed to my belly.

  “I’m only wearing my underwear.”

  “That’s still clothing.” He eased down farther and kissed me through the material.

  A part of me longed for the beautiful lingerie I’d once owned, wondering what he’d think if he could see me in some of it—silks so fragile they barely looked there, satin that shimmered against my skin. But he didn’t seem to mind the simple cotton covering me as he nuzzled my clitoris.

  “You’re still in your jeans,” I said, the words catching in my throat as he scraped his teeth over me.

  “We’ll fix that. But I want you naked…now.” He caught the waistband of my panties and dragged them down, his lips brushing across my thigh as the material skimmed down. Once he had completed his task, he kissed a path up the opposite leg.

  “Your turn,” I said, urging him onto his back so I could deal with his jeans.

  He groaned when I freed his cock from his shorts, arching up when I bent to flick my tongue across the head of his cock.

  His hand hovered at the side of my head, but fell away when I straightened and began to work the denim down.

  Once he was naked, I sat up on my heels to stare at him. He brought one knee up and closed a hand around his penis, stroking up and down, looking at me from under heavy-lidded eyes.

  “You’re too beautiful to be real,” I said, leaning over him and bracing my weight on my hands.

  A faint grin quirked his lips upward. “I’m pretty sure I’m real, but why don’t you touch me, just to be sure.”

  “Touch you…” I kissed the tip of his dick. “Like this?”

  “That wasn’t much of a touch. Try again.”

  Humming under my throat, I took the head in my mouth this time and sank lower on him.

  He thrust up, moving his hips in slow, shallow circles as he met the pace I’d set with my mouth.

  Muttered grunts fell from his lips, sounds mixed with my name.

  It was an erotic, heady melody, and my nipples tightened while heat gathered in my belly.

  He fisted a hand in my hair, brushing it out of the way so he could watch me. I could feel his eyes on me, taking in the sight of me as I licked and sucked on his thick shaft.

  Just imagining how we looked was enough to make me ache and I squirmed a little, pressing my knees together in an effort to ease that ache.

  It didn’t help.

  Abruptly, Glenn’s hand tightened and he pulled me away from him. I protested but his mouth slanted over mine as he urged me down onto the bed under him.

  “You're going to make me lose it, and we haven't even been made it five minutes,” he muttered against my lips.

  Anything I might have said was drowned out as he cut me off with another kiss, reaching down and stroking me, shoving two long fingers into me. He groaned. “Man…feel you, baby. You’re already so wet for me.”

  He withdrew his hand and I whimpered at the feel of his cock nudging against me. Thick and full, it pulsed, demanding entrance.

  “Look at me,” Glenn said.

  I forced my eyes to open, focusing on his face.

  “You’re mine. Tell me you’re mine,” he said.

  “I’m yours.” I had been almost from the second I’d laid eyes on him. Even if I hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it.

  Glenn caught my left hand, stretched it up overhead, twining our fingers. Slowly, he pushed inside. I felt every ridged, hard inch of him. As he went to withdraw, I shuddered and moved with him, aching to keep him inside. He filled me again, deeper this time, but moving just as slow.

  Each thrust took him deeper.

  Each thrust, he watched me and I watched him.

  Soon, though, want and everything he stirred inside me blinded me, and as he dropped his head to kiss me, I clung to him, lost to everything but a burning pleasure that threatened to tear me apart.

  The orgasm hit hard, sent me shaking.

  He wrapped both arms around me and rolled onto his back, driving up into me, his mouth at mine, voracious.

  I cried out, but the sound was silenced by his.

  He stiffened and arched, breaking the kiss to thrust his head back against the pillows. His mouth opened on a silent moan and his eyes drifted closed as his cock pulsed and jerked deep inside me.

  I felt every movement, every pulse.

  Satisfaction washed through me, so deep and consuming, nothing seemed real.

  Even when he rolled us onto our sides and pulled a blanket over us, I couldn’t manage to find the energy to move.

  I should though.

  I should say something.

  Do something.

  “Glenn,” I murmured.

  “Yeah?” He nuzzled my neck.

  But I couldn’t remember what I wanted to say.

  Finally, still thinking on his name, I slid into sleep.

  Fourteen

  Glenn

  “How is Florence?” The low, soft voice caught me off-guard.

  Looking up, I found my co-star, Alice, standing by the table where I’d gone to eat my lunch—and maybe grab a ten-minute nap.

  She looked a little less nervous today. Actually, she’d been looking less nervous for each day we made it through shooting without any major disaster, so that was progress.

  “She’s doing better.” Gesturing to the empty seat across from me, I straightened up and tried to push the clouds out of my head. I wasn’t sleeping worth shit, but I realized the nap wasn’t going to happen. Florence’s accident had made the news of course, and I’d had to dodge the cameras going in to see her twice this week. “Do you know her?”

  Alice smiled and shrugged. “A little. She helped me find my agent.”

  “Are you with Peter?”

  “Oh, no!” Her eyes widened and immediately she clapped a hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry. That sounded terribly rude of me.”

  I laughed. “It’s okay. Peter can be pretty…” I started to say intense, then stopped. “Well, he can be pretty terrible.” I’d been dodging calls from him for a couple of weeks, and knew that wouldn’t last for much longer. Especially since there had been a couple of pictures that had caught me walking into the hospital with Maya.

  Speculation was already running rampant, and a few sharp-eyed reporters had already run stories about the strange reappearance of my missing fiancé. No doubt Peter was getting calls about her. Several had come in at the studio, but the publicity folks had handled them.

  “Do you think she’ll really be okay?” Alice asked, hope shining in her eyes.

  It made her look impossibly young.

  And that thought made me feel impossibly old, even though I was probably only a few years older than her. She’d been a latecomer here in Hollywood, discovered just last year by a director while he’d been on vacation in Florida.

  She still had that naivety to her. I could understand why Florence had taken her under her wing. Florence used to be the same way.

  I’d never been naïve. Not about Hollywood, at least.

  She had a sweet smile, and the concern for Florence was real. Too many of the people I’d met, even in passing, managed to fake real relationships that went about as deep as a rain puddle.

  “Florence has dealt with a lot of things in her life,” I said. “If she can survive those, I don’t think a car wreck is going to keep her down.”

  Relief washed over her features.
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  But it faded away a moment later as her eyes drifted over my shoulder. “Oh. Um…I think he’s looking for you,” she murmured. Her throat worked as she swallowed.

  I glanced over my shoulder to see Peter bearing down on me.

  Alice slid out of the booth, her smile going tight. “I should probably go. I need to go over my lines more. I’m always afraid I’ll forget something.”

  I doubted that. She probably knew my lines.

  She was several feet away by the time Peter took her seat.

  He looked at me, his face red and ruddy, eyes puffy. I recognized the look on his face. It wasn’t too different from a look I used to wear before I’d finally decided I needed to pull myself out of the pit.

  “You’re drinking too much,” I said softly.

  “I’ve got a couple of clients who are causing more trouble than they’re worth,” He rubbed at his face and I heard the stubble scraping at his palm. “And you’re one of them. You want to know who the other one is?”

  I eyed the clock on the wall, wondering if I wanted to even mess with this right now. “You realize I have to be back on set in about ten minutes.”

  “I don’t give a shit.” Peter leaned in. “I got you this fucking role. I got you every fucking role in your life, and you pay me back by lying to me. By throwing the opportunities I’ve given you in my face.”

  “What in the hell are you talking about?”

  “Kimberly lost a role because of you, Glenn.” Peter slammed his fist down on the table. “She had an audition this morning, and was so upset about you and Maya, she kept missing her lines. Finally, the director told her to take a break and try again. Somebody asked her about how things were between you two and she broke down. Right there, right in front of the director.”

  “Broke down?” I laughed. “You mean she lost her temper and let him have it.”

  Peter’s face went red and he opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. “Don’t you understand what you’re throwing away? I hand-wrapped and delivered the perfect Hollywood romance. People think a couple that’s never had it wrong or rough or what the hell—that’s boring. People like the underdog. You two are perfect.” Then he shook his head. “You were. You went and threw it away for a bitch who threw you away.”

  “What?” I stiffened, everything he’d said falling by the wayside once those words came out.

  “Don’t play the fool with me. I know about Maya! You’re seeing her again!” Peter hit the table again, his fist slamming on it so hard it set my tray and glass to rattling.

  “And what does that matter to you?” Pissed off, I slid out of the seat. As I went to turn my tray over to the cafeteria staff, I noticed that the room had emptied. Sometime since Peter had come in, more than half a dozen people had trickled out. They must have seen the same thing on his face that Alice had seen.

  Of course, he wasn’t making any attempt to hide it.

  “What does it matter?” He gaped at me like I’d just sprung a second head, or started to levitate. “How can you stand there and ask me what it matters? Did you forget how you spent the past couple of years? A year ago you didn’t think you’d ever even work again.”

  “No.” Crossing my arms over my chest, I met his gaze. “I didn’t care if I’d ever work again. I didn’t care if I got out of bed, if I even woke up. It took a long time to get past that. I’m past that. I was past that even before Maya came back.”

  It wasn’t until I said those words out loud that I realized they were true.

  It was a startling realization, especially to have it right there in the middle of what was probably going to be an epic argument with my manager. It was an understanding I’d needed to come to, though.

  “You're not getting the point,” Peter snarled. “You’re finally getting your career back on track. People are excited about you again—hell, they’re more excited now than they were before. You’re not just the kid of some Hollywood star anymore. You’re a legend in your own right, one who fell from the sky and pulled himself back up. And Kimberly…shit, Glenn! The two of you were on track to be the next golden couple.”

  “Me and Kimberly?” That had me laughing. “That barracuda? She doesn’t want to be part of a couple. She wants a man on her arm that will be almost as pretty as she is—somebody she can brush off when she feels like she needs the spotlight for herself. I was perfect there for a while, since I’m tired of the spotlight. I never liked it much anyway. But the only place she looks good is in the spotlight. Outside of it, she’s a snake in a silk dress.”

  “What does it matter?” Peter waved his hands, his agitation worsening. “The public was eating it up! And it’s not like you two don’t have chemistry. It sizzles off you both.”

  “Chemistry.” Disgusted, I shook my head. “Yeah, I suppose there was some chemistry. I bet black widows have chemistry with the mates they choose—you know what happens after the female is done with the male, right?”

  “First she’s a snake. Now you’re calling her a spider.” Peter jabbed a finger in my direction. “You spent an awful lot of time with her and never had any complaints.”

  “I had plenty of complaints. You just weren’t around. In case you didn’t notice, we only ever spent time together when there was some sort of publicity stunt.” Shooting a look at the clock, I gestured toward the door. “Are we done? I’ve got to get back to the set.”

  “No, I’m not done!” Peter threw out his arms. “You gotta get back to the set…Glenn, you wouldn’t have even gotten this role if I hadn’t stuck my neck out for you.”

  Narrowing my eyes, I bit down on my inner cheek. He had a point there. The director hadn’t even wanted to let me audition. He hadn’t wanted to give me the role, either. But the producers had loved me. In the end, I got here because Pete had wheedled me through the door—but it was my talent and hard work that ensured I stayed here. “You got me the audition. That doesn’t mean you did the work, Pete. I did that.”

  “I did a hell of a lot more than get you a chance to read a fucking script.” Looking betrayed, he shook his head. “The past few years, as far as you sunk, I’ve been there for you. Haven’t I always been there? When that viper disappeared, left you dragging so low, I was there to help pull you out of that pit. And now here I am, trying to keep you from falling in again—and all that witch has to do is twitch her ass and instantly, you’re hooked.”

  Gritting my teeth, I spoke through the fury—somehow. “That’s enough. You’re going to stop talking about Maya like that, you got me?”

  “What the fuck?” He shoved his hands through his hair and spun around, walked a few paces before turning back to me. “She’s already done it again, hasn’t she? Is she that fucking good in bed?”

  I had the front of his shirt in my hands before I even realized I’d moved.

  “Don’t,” I warned him. “Just…don’t.”

  Peter’s face had gone red, eyes wide and startled. “What’s the matter with you?”

  I shook him. “What’s the matter with me? Are you stupid?”

  “No, but I think you are! Stupid and crazy.” He jerked against my hold, but I wasn’t about to let him go.

  If I kept my hands fisted in his shirt, they wouldn’t be able to get around his throat or smash into his face. I’d never really considered myself a violent man—hot-tempered, sure, and I could be an asshole—but hearing him talking about Maya like that brought out something in me I wasn’t sure I knew…or liked.

  “Look at yourself,” Peter said, his voice low and cajoling. “She’s making you mean and crazy, Glenn.”

  Slowly, I uncurled my fingers, letting go of his shirt. I took a few steps back and then turned away, staring sightlessly at the wall. “She’s not the one making me crazy, Pete. I was always a little bit mean, but that probably slipped your notice because you’re plenty mean yourself.”

  Sucking in a breath, I held for a few seconds, then blew it out.

  The rage didn’t abate, so I did it again. After a
few more repetitions, I could look back at him.

  “You’re not going to talk about her like that, you understand me?”

  “Man, I don’t get—”

  I held up a hand. “I don’t care whether you get it or not. I don’t care what you don’t get. What Maya and I are doesn’t concern you. What Maya and I have doesn’t concern you. You manage my career, not my life.”

  I turned to go.

  “And when your life falls apart again because of her?” Peter demanded. “What then? You expect me to hang around and pick up the pieces?”

  “Oh, horseshit, Pete!” Fed up, I faced him once more. “Your idea of picking up the pieces was to get me another bottle if I was out of booze. You made it easy for me to stay drunk if I was too much of a mess to deal with. It was Florence and Cane who scraped me up of the ground. You paid hush money to the cops so they wouldn’t tell the reporters I’d gotten arrested. They made me stay in jail a time or two so I’d sober up and maybe learn a lesson—and not kill anybody while I was out driving.”

  Peter, an offended look on his face, opened his mouth to argue.

  I didn’t let him.

  “Were you ever there in the morning when I was still so drunk I couldn’t walk? Ever there when I was sick and shaking because I’d decided to stop drinking?”

  “I’ve got other clients. I’m not your nursemaid.”

  “No. You’re my manager. Stop acting like we’re friends, Pete. You did what you could to hold me together in hopes I’d keep up with my career, and once it got hard, you disappeared. It wasn’t until I got it together that you showed back up.”

  “You ungrateful son of a bitch.” One hand clenched into a fist, and part of me wished he’d throw a punch. I’d welcome it.

  “I’m not ungrateful. I appreciate the roles you’ve helped me get.” Shaking my head, I gestured to myself. “But that doesn’t entitle you to my personal life—doesn’t entitle you to have a say in who I do or don’t get to spend time with. And for the record, it isn’t going to be Kimberly. Not ever again.”

  “Funny how you didn’t have any trouble spending time with her—all sorts of time with her—up until Maya showed up.” The innuendo was unmistakable. “Would be a fucking shame if news of that got out.”