Free Star Struck by Laurelin Paige Page A

funny.” Get in and get out. “Here’s your water.” Not daring himself to have any contact with her, he kept his eyes averted and moved to the nightstand, planning to drop the bottles there and leave. He managed the first step, but moving so close to her was a big mistake. Because now he was within her reach.
    Not even a second passed between the moment he let go of the bottles and the moment Heather grabbed his shirt. She’d moved to the edge of the bed, up on her knees. “What’s so funny about it?”
    Damn, for a woman who’d had too much to drink, she could move.
    But she was still drunk. He had to remember that. “Heather, you’re not in any condition for this.” He couldn’t ignore her bare skin now that it was pressed up against him, no matter how hard he tried. At least he couldn’t see her as well in this position.
    Her response to his statement was to kiss along the underside of his jaw.
    Keep focused. “And if you remember correctly, we don’t really care for each other. Despite being attracted to one another…” More than attracted. He was goddamn ready to spill his load simply from what she was doing with her mouth on his neck. Imagine if her mouth was elsewhere…
    Focus! “But you probably don’t remember that we hate each other because, as I said before, you’re drunk. And I’m drunk.” He brought his arms around her with the intention of pushing her away, but didn’t seem to be able to do anything but stroke the silky skin of her backside with his palms.
    She kissed up to his ear. “I’m not that drunk.”
    “You passed out in the elevator.” Oh God, her tongue in his ear…
    “I’m a good actress.”
    “You’re not that good of an actress.” But he found himself questioning whether or not she was really as drunk as he’d first assumed. Had the whole thing been a ruse to get him to her room?
    As if reading his mind, she asked, “Are you sure?”
    Yeah, he was sure she was drunk. If she wasn’t, she would have defended her acting. There were other signs. He could still smell the liquor on her breath. She’d been dead weight when he’d carried her—she couldn’t have faked that. Her discarded panties were still wrapped around one ankle as though she may have had trouble getting out of them. And sweet as her kisses may be, they were also sloppy.
    Definitely drunk.
    Question was, did he care?
    “I do not take advantage of drunken women.” There was no pretending his words were for her. He was reminding himself. Fat lot of good his self-scolding did—his hands had already made their way down to caress her fine ass.
    Her hand lowered as well, clutching his hard as fuck dick through his jeans. “It seems like I’m the one taking advantage of you.”
    The sirens in his head increased. He was seconds from disaster and if he had any hope of walking out of this, he had to assume control of the situation. Now.
    In one swift movement, he threw her down on the bed, his body pressed against her so that her hands were pinned over her head. “Heather, stop!”
    But now she was where he dreamed of having her—naked and underneath him, her sexy body soft and submissive.
    And when she stared up at him under hooded lids, desire brimming in her eyes, the battle was lost. With a growl that was half frustration, half lust he said, “When I fuck, I take the lead.”
    His mouth came down hard against hers, devouring her lips with a frenzy he reserved for more serious relationships. He usually liked to ease into rough play, but this woman brought it out in an abundance that surprised him.
    Heather, however, didn’t seem offended, but delighted. She matched his tongue’s frenetic strokes, gasping as he licked deeper into her mouth. When he’d claimed her lips at the theater, the kisses had been stolen—he’d taken what he wasn’t sure she was willing to give. Now, though, his assurance of her willingness gave him free reign so he took and took and took.
    Her wriggling underneath him