One More Time(38)

Branded.

“I’m such a bad girl, Mr. James,” I whimper. That earns me another couple spanks before his hand stills and his fingers delve downward where they discover just how bad I really am, drenched from the combination of spanking and excitement at playing another role I’m discovering I’m very good at.

He explores me gently with his fingers as I writhe, feeling empty and hoping if I can just wiggle back in the right way, he’ll slide a couple inside. Instead, he moves away entirely, now running his hand up my side and around to the front, where he gives my nipple a hard pinch. I cry out, surprised at the way the sharp sting followed by soft pleasure echoes the sensations of the spanking.

“I think you’ve learned your lesson,” he tells me with a wicked smile in his voice.

“Oh, I very much doubt it,” I say, standing and pulling my dress off as I runway-walk back to the bedroom, knowing he’ll follow without ever having to glance back. “I’m a very bad girl.”

When he comes to his senses and gets into the room, he finds me on the bed, twirling a curl around my finger same as Amber did as I was walking toward them. But she wasn’t brazen enough to be doing it naked and on her knees, with her other finger in her mouth.

“No,” Tanner’s voice rasps as he roughly flips and bends me so that my freshly spanked ass is in the air facing him. “You’re a fucking perfect girl.”

In a flash, he thrusts inside me, one fierce drive to punctuate his sentence. I didn’t even hear him unzip his pants. I see stars as I scream out at the sudden intrusion. Tanner puts one hand on the small of my back, pinning me in place, then moves in and out of me. I jerk back and forth with the strength of his body. This must look amazingly sexy—me completely nude and getting pounded hard by this fully clothed Hollywood star.

Just imagining it makes me come. The sudden spasms around his cock earn me a gasp.

I pushed him as far as I could with my teasing, and now with my pussy clenching around him, he’s lost any semblance of control. Tanner is fucking me like a man possessed, and this is exactly what I want—no, need—to drive all those other thoughts from my mind. Amber’s flirtation, Richard Thurgood’s proposal, the complete unfairness of Tanner’s refusal to be photographed with me while still using my old nickname in the bedroom…

That last one sticks just a bit. The ache of it blending with the pleasure/pain of Tanner’s sharp, jabbing thrusts, fading into the steady rhythm and blinding ecstasy I feel as both of our bodies tremble and quake until finally he stills and throbs inside me. I follow him off the cliff, both of us crying out our climax. The bliss rolls over and over both of our bodies until we’re completely spent.

Moments later as I lie in a heap on the bed, panting, my mind remains blessedly blank, but that ache—that ache is still there. Still raw and sharp. The room is quiet except for our ragged breathing and the buzz of the air conditioner.

Finally, Tanner speaks. “So, you were totally jealous, right?”

It’s a good thing he’s still dressed, because it only takes a second to kick him out, leaving him completely shocked as I close the door on his handsome face for the first time since we started this affair.

Of course I was fucking jealous.





14





Tanner





There’s nothing lonelier than waking up in an empty bed that’s usually filled with a gorgeous woman. I feel like the air’s been sucked out of this room. Jenna typically fills it with her smell and her smile and the soft sound of her voice whispering in the morning. I always tell her she doesn’t have to be so quiet. These hotel room walls are thick. She always jokes that she’s whispering because it feels sexier in the morning, like we’re keeping a secret.

Now I know just how true that feeling is for Jenna.

I guess part of me always thought she was bluffing with this whole casual sex thing. Old Jenna would never have gone that far, but this new version sent me packing at three o’clock in the morning, after some of the craziest sex I’ve ever had. I couldn’t wait to talk about it with her—once I’d caught my breath—but she hadn’t even put her robe on before escorting me to the door. That felt shitty, but not quite as shitty as it feels to wake up alone. Without her.

I childishly throw a pillow at the door. This wasn’t how things were supposed to be this time. This was supposed to work. We were supposed to work.

And yet here I am again, wondering what she’s doing while I order a fucking omelet.

I flip on the TV to try and take my mind off this pathetic morning. Some local weather person is standing in front of the giant map waving her hands at weird Canadian names. Her hair reminds me of Jenna’s, and I nearly change the channel, but then she launches into all the details of the famous Celebration of Light, Vancouver’s giant fireworks festival. It’s today, which reminds me that we’re not shooting. Fireworks and film sets don’t go so well together.

But neither do free days and bored actors. Now I have nothing to do all day, and no excuse to see Jenna.

I turn the TV off and throw the remote across the room, where it luckily glances off the pillow. I have to stop pouting before I earn a rock-star hotel trashing reputation.

But I’m not sure how to proceed, and until I have a plan, this room feels like a cage. To complete the metaphor, I start pacing like a wild animal as I try to work out what led to me waking up in my bed, alone. Jenna is pissed about something. I’m sure of it. She booted me for the jealousy comment, but for fuck’s sake. It was funny at that point. Because, come on, we both knew she was jealous.