Free Wanna Play (Ghost Unit, Book Three) by Gail Faulkner Page B

with him. She couldn’t have been clearer with the message to kiss her ass if she’d said the words.
     
    He had no problem kissing whatever she presented. She’d figure that out at some point. Until then, he chuckled and winked when she stood, certain she’d caught his reply. He’d kiss that ass anytime, anywhere. They were ready to shoot the next scene and Jas went back to work. The conversation had been carried out across the clearing from each other. Blaster blew out a breath and shook his head.
     
    The Unit had perfected silent communication. Their private method was a mix of sign language, military hand signals and Native American signs. All six men were fluent. He supposed his ease with sign communication sort of leaked through. Why else would she so easily fall into this form of contact with him? It wasn’t normal for people who were not long-time companions.
     
    Lunch was served on site while two more scenes were being set up. Jas strolled over to where Blaster was seated at a side table. There weren’t enough folding chairs for everyone since no one expected the entire company to be eating at the same time. She slid between his legs and sat down on one of his thighs as if she’d been doing it for ages. Blaster had been chatting with one of the stunt men.
     
    “Hey, babe.” Blaster’s hand naturally landed below the small of her back as her lovely butt settled on his thigh. “Want me to fix you a plate?”
     
    “No, this one is fine.” Jas scooted up him so her hip nudged his abdomen, took the fork from his hand and started working on his plate of food.
     
    His hand caressed her back as she ate and conversation resumed. Jas was soon laughing, her dry humor drew most everyone else who wasn’t working and the table off to the side soon became crowed.
     
    She ate, chatted and glowed. She had it , whatever the it is that draws people. Some call it star quality or natural charisma. Blaster found holding her, touching her was intoxicating as the crowd around them thickened. She was the center of attention though she didn’t intentionally hog the spotlight. That was the it thing, he decided. She was generous with attention to each person there. Laughing, joining with them, not trying to lead. The amazingly equal feeling was extended to the barely twenty-something grips as well as the seasoned professionals.
     
    Watching, he realized she might naturally draw people but she also subtly manipulated conversation to include everyone. She made a point of it. This group of people would be her fans forever, right down to the truck drivers. She knew all their names and how to give attention or credit. While making a joke, she’d suddenly ask the painfully nervous young man the name of a comic book character she needed to finish the joke. He knew it and felt a short snap of pride when she thanked him with the compliment that he knew the best bad guys. Conversation went on and the boy was more of a man.
     
    She finished his food, drank his drink and Blaster was damn happy. He felt proud of her. Admiration, amusement and satisfaction to be the one she leaned in to when she was done. His body adjusted to be her chair as her legs now settled over both of his thighs so she could relax on his lap. She was completely comfortable with the public display and so was he, Blaster realized.
     
    All he had to do was look at her to want her but getting to know her was creating a different kind of desire. Something deeper. It began to bother him that he didn’t technically have the right to be proud of her. He hadn’t earned it. Most of all, he hadn’t earned her trust. Hadn’t put in the time to rightfully enjoy holding her. Their relationship was an act as much as her film character. That needed to change. He wanted this woman, but he was beginning to want more, much more than sex.
     
    The morning of watching her work the movie had given him a respect for the talent she brought to it. She worked hard, took it