Lying for the camera: chapter six

He was silent throughout the journey back to the house. Hattie slid a sideways glance at him. Mouth tight, shoulders tense, eyes cold. He wasn’t going to make this easy for her but she wasn’t going to let him off the hook. He had years of misplaced guilt to get rid of and this was as good a way as any to kickstart the process.

The car skidded to a halt in the gravel driveway. Tom slammed the car door shut and was halfway to the house while Hattie was still picking up her handbag. She slid out of the car and followed him. He pointed the remote backwards, without so much as a glance over his shoulder. But he had to pause to unlock the heavy door and Hattie caught him up as he stalked into the grand entrance hall. Since the rest of the crew had left, the house was even colder and utterly silent. She automatically stayed close to Tom as he walked towards the staircase.

“I’m going to bed,” he said, without bothering to look at her.

“Me too.” His bed, though he didn’t know it yet.

“Huh.”

She paused at the top of the stairs to let him get a headstart down the corridor towards his room. Her bedroom was in a different wing from Tom’s, so hopefully he’d think she’d given up. Not a chance. Counting to a hundred, she waited until the footsteps had died down, then trod softly after him.

She didn’t knock. She wasn’t giving him the chance to shut her out. Hattie simply turned the handle and went in. Tom was standing by the window, gazing out into the impenetrable blackness of the night. He turned at the click of the door when she pushed it shut.

“Is there something wrong? Do you need help with your shoulder?”

She smiled and shook her head. “I’m fine. Look.” She began to undo the buttons on her blouse.

“Hattie,” he said in a warning tone.

“No, it’s fine. It doesn’t hurt at all.” The front of her blouse flapped open and she slipped it off carefully. She reached behind for the fastening of her bra but pain lanced through her shoulder. Better leave that till later, then. Jeans were easier. And stripping down to her underwear would be an equally clear sign of intent.

She kicked off her shoes and pushed the denim down. If she’d been able to choose, she’d have picked sexier lingerie but she’d been limited by what was in the bag Tom had brought her in hospital. Still, at least the black bra was trimmed with pretty lace, and it almost matched the black and pink silk knickers he’d packed.

“You should go back to your bedroom.” He’d turned away again, but she could see his hands clenched into fists. He wanted this every bit as much as she did.

“Can’t. I need you to help.”

He let out an audible breath. “What sort of help?”

She grinned. “I can’t undo my bra.”

“You…” He bit off his words. “I thought you said you were fine.”

“Fine for most things.”

“Right.”

“You’ll have to come over here.” She leaned against the door and tilted her head up. Tom stalked towards her and stopped at arms length.

“Turn round,” he ordered.

She pursed her lips at him in a mock kiss, then did as he asked, giving a little shimmy as she turned. He unhooked the fastening efficiently and slid the straps down over her shoulders. Even that brief touch of his fingers sent a delicious sizzle through her. This was going to be worth all the effort.

“Done.”

Hattie let the bra fall to the floor and resumed her position against the door. She lifted her good arm slowly above her head and raised the other so that her hand just cupped one breast.

“We’re not nearly done,” she breathed.

“Of course we are. You know that. You know why.”

“I’m not your model any more. It doesn’t break any rules.”

He gave a sharp laugh. “You break every rule, Hattie.”

“I try.” She winked at him.

He stepped forward. “You’d try the patience of a saint.”

“Tom.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Just kiss me already.”

He pressed his lips together and looked her up and down. She held her breath. If he turned her down again she wasn’t sure she could push him any further.

He took another step towards her, so close that she could feel the warmth of his breath against her temple. He pressed his hand over hers, trapping her against the door. With his free hand, he traced the line of her jaw, tilting her face towards his.

“I should have run a mile the first time I saw you,” he muttered.

“You can’t run away from your muse.”

He laughed. “I’m rethinking that position. Muses aren’t supposed to cause so much trouble.”

“Do you have a rule about sleeping with your muse?”

“No rule.”

“Shame.” Hattie slid her arm around his waist. “I would have enjoyed breaking that rule.”

His grip tightened on her chin. “Are you sure about this?”

She rolled her eyes. “Did you not notice me seducing you? Of course I’m sure.”

He bent his forehead to touch hers. “Good point. Well, then.”

His lips were warm and soft, his kiss far too brief. Hattie whimpered.

“Shh. You’ll get plenty more kissses,” he whispered. “But if we’re going to do this, we’re damned well going to take our time about it and enjoy it.”

Her knees wobbled under the intensity of his gaze. She could feel him taking note of every tiny response on her face, while his fingers traced delicate lines down her body, around her breasts, along the top of her knickers. He’d seen her naked a dozen times before. He’d looked at her through a camera lens hundreds of times. It wasn’t as though he didn’t know how she looked. But this was different. There was no camera to hide behind now – for him or for her. He wasn’t watching her as a photographer examines his model or his muse. He was just watching her. Hattie. She bit her lip. She was not going to blush. She wasn’t the blushing sort. Only she’d never known a man who saw so much of her.

His thumb was rubbing little circles around her hip bone. Her jaw slackened, her mouth parted, her eyes lost focus, and he noticed it all, she knew he did. She couldn’t bear any more of it and then, just as she was about to beg, he moved on to discover the next unexpectedly sensitive point on her body. He skimmed the bruises at her shoulder, so gently she could feel the hairs rise to his touch.

“Does it hurt?” he whispered.

“Not there.”

“Turn round.”

His hands rested lightly on her hips while she did as he asked. He leaned forward, his breath warm against her skin. “Here?”

She shivered. “A little.”

The lightest of kisses, so brief she wondered if she had imagined it. “Here?”

“N…not now.” He had her stammering now?

He curled his hand around her arm. “What about these scratches?”

“What scratches?”

Tom laughed. “Indomitable Hattie Bell. You should have been on the Titanic.”

“The unsinkable Molly Brown?”

“You’d knock her out of the water.” He nuzzled ino her neck, on the good side. “You are the sexiest woman I have ever known.”

She grinned. “Finally he sees sense.”

He pinched her bum. “You are the least modest woman I’ve ever known.”

“I’ve never seen the point of being modest. Isn’t it just another way to make women keep their talents hidden?”

“Your talents…” His hands slid round to cup her breasts, “are wonderfully on display.”

“Tom.”

He paused. “What’s the matter?”

“I have more talents than just a pair of, admittedly fantastic, breasts.”

He dropped a kiss on her shoulder. “I know that, Hattie. You’re my muse, remember?”

That hadn’t exactly gone to plan, though. She grimaced. “Is the exhibition ruined?”

“I don’t want to talk about that now.”

Hattie turned around to face him. “Why are we talking at all?”

He smiled down at her. “Good point. Come here.”

Christ, she was glorious. He slid his hand into her fiery red hair and held her in place while he teased the corners of her luscious lips with kisses that were never designed to satisfy. There was tension in her jaw and softness in her cheeks and the juxtaposition was intoxicating. She was panting and whimpering and he was tempted to see how far he could push her. Except his own need was mounting and her mouth was just there. There was only so much temptation a man could resist. And he’d been resisting Hattie for far too long.

Her lips opened beneath his and she pulled him firmly down against her. She kissed him as urgently as if she were breathing. He kissed her back as though he could give her all the oxygen she needed. Together, they could go on forever, holding, touching, kissing, loving. With Hattie in his arms and her lips against his, there was nothing more in the world to desire.

She slid her hand down to his arse and pulled him closer. He shifted slightly so that he could touch her breast without breaking the kiss. Soft, wonderful breasts that filled his hand and spilled over. He stroked and caressed and finally brushed his thumb across her nipple. The gasp she gave was the sweetest thing he could remember. He couldn’t help but reach across to tweak the other nipple. This time Hattie moaned.

Eventually, she pulled away from him. Just a few inches, but too far. He pulled her back but she managed to hold him off long enough to speak.

“Clothes,” she panted.

“Huh?” He had his lips on her neck, licking until he found the spot that made her knees tremble.

“You’re still wearing…” She tugged at his shirt when he cut off her sentence with his kiss.

“Can’t stop.” There was no way to remove his clothes while Hattie was in his arms and he was kissing her.

She cupped his jaw with her hands. “Pause.”

She backed away then and again he stepped towards her. She shook her head and winked. “Uh uh.”

He groaned.

“Shirt. Now.” She sat on his bed and slid back to lean against the headboard. Tom gave up on struggling with buttons and simply pulled the shirt over his head.

“Jeans.” Her eyes were sparkling and she’d begun to play with her own breasts. He was going to kill her if he didn’t die first.

Finally his belt gave way. He pushed the denim down and kicked it out of the way. Socks were easily dealt with.

Her lips twitched into a smile. “And the rest.” Boxers slid to the floor. “Now get over here and make love to me.”

“Since you ask so nicely,” he growled. He dropped onto the bed and crawled towards her, pushing her legs apart. When he got near enough, he pulled her hands from her breasts. “Gorgeous.”

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

It was too long since he’d kissed her. Time to remedy that. But her lips were no longer enough. He needed everything she could give. He reached down to slide a finger inside her. Wet and hot and enough to send his need skyrocketing.

“Now,” she urged him. “I need…”

“I know.” Her need couldn’t be greater than his.

Only… damn. Damn, damn, damn. He rolled off her and put his arm over his forehead. “I haven’t got any condoms.”

Her breathing was audible. Then he realised that his was no quieter. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t planning to do this when I packed for the week.”

Hattie sighed. “We agreed yesterday.”

He’d agreed, but he hadn’t thought it through. Idiot.

“I don’t suppose you have any?”

“No. But I’m on the pill.”

“Right. Well.” That was something.

“I’m clean. Are you?”

“Yes.”

She turned slightly and reached out her hand. Oh. Oh, Christ.

“I won’t last,” he warned.

“Make your mind up, then. In me or on you?”

He closed his eyes. Sometimes her bluntness was overwhelming.

“Tom?”

“In you. But I think you should be on top. And be careful, Hattie. You remember what happened last time you went riding.” He helped her up, to straddle him. “Take your time,” he challenged.

“Bet I can last longer than you.”

“No bet.” He’d be lucky if he lasted another thirty seconds.

Waking up warm for the first time in a week was the best thing ever. Waking up warm and lying next to a gorgeous guy was off the scale. Hattie couldn’t help the smug grin that spread across her face as she remembered the night before. She snuggled closer to Tom. The shoot was cancelled but the house was booked for another night and she had the time off work. What better way to spend an unexpected holiday than in bed?

He rolled over and dropped his arm on her waist, holding her against him.

“Morning.”

“Morning yourself.” She winked at him and pressed her body against his to check. Oh yes, it was definitely a good morning.

“You are insatiable.”

“That’s a good thing, right?”

He sighed dramatically. “I suppose I can work with it.” He pushed her onto her back.

“Ow!”

“Hattie? Is it your shoulder?”

She gritted her teeth. “Painkillers have worn off.”

He clambered carefully off her. “Where are they?”

“Handbag. Downstairs.”

“Back in a second.” He didn’t bother to pull any clothes on, she noticed. Those painkillers had better kick in quickly. Now that she’d got Tom Metcalfe in bed, she didn’t plan on letting him out of it any time soon.