“What?”

She peered at the open door to the loading dock behind him. They weren’t really hidden from the cast and crew, but she wanted—scratch that—she needed to have this conversation. She stepped around an outcrop by the exit and gestured for Seth to follow.

With a sigh, Seth set his plate of food down on the desk and joined her in the nook. He leaned his arm against the wall, trapping her in the small space. “What?” he asked again.

She was dizzy with his smell, a combination of fragrant wood shavings and sweat and soap. She had to force herself to focus. “You plunged your tongue into my mouth first.”

“A mistake I won’t be making again.” But his eyes lowered to her lips.

She was perplexed by his words which contrasted so starkly with the hunger in his eyes. Did he feel as much conflict about her as she did about him? And if so, why? No way to know unless she asked. “Why did you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Kiss me.”

He took a step toward her. “Are you asking me to kiss you?”

She stepped back, shaking her head. “No.”

Another step forward. “Are you sure?”

“No.” Another step back.

Seth grinned.

“I mean, yes, I’m sure. You’re confusing me. I’m asking why you kissed me.”

“Are you suggesting that you didn’t kiss me?”

“Oh my God.” She was against the wall now. She couldn’t retreat any farther. “Talking to you is impossible.”

He took a final step, closing the last amount of distance between them. He was so close that it would take no effort to reach up and claim his lips. Again. “Then maybe we shouldn’t be talking.”

“I’m sorry, I’m not interested.” But her voice was shaky, his accusation so right on she couldn’t lie about it. World famous actress that she was, she couldn’t give one simple line. Pathetic.

She wanted to look away from his piercing gaze, but with him so near, there was nowhere else to look. “Are we done here? Because I need to finish my lunch.”

He chuckled, a sound full of incredulity, but God, didn’t it stir something in her core. “You pulled me back here, remember?” He leaned toward her and she pressed her palms against the wall behind her for support. How did he keep getting her trapped like this? And why did she go crazy with the anticipation of what she hoped he’d do next?

But he didn’t kiss her, just kept his face inches from hers. “I’m done if you are.”

“Good. I am.” She waited for him to move out of her way. When he didn’t, she said, “Excuse me.”

“One more thing.”

“What?”

“I kissed you for the same reason you kissed me.”

She had kissed him because she couldn’t not kiss him. His pass at her had been startling and improper, but it also awakened her to the depths of hunger she felt for him. Compelled her to seek more. Even now she wanted more.

Still, her brain tried to protest. “Well, it never happened.”

“Fine. Do we have to pretend this time never happened either?”

Before she could fully register what his words meant, his mouth crashed against hers. Her lips parted and instantly his tongue was inside, swiping across her teeth, before dueling with her own tongue with thick, luscious strokes. His kiss was deep and demanding, washing her with waves of lust and need and relief. Such relief.

He pressed his body tighter against her and her hands flew around him, digging into his back to steady her weakening knees. As if he understood her sudden inability to stand, Seth tugged at her thigh, urging it up and around him. She wrapped one leg around him and then his hands were at her ass, holding her so she could wrap the other around him as well, the short cover-up crawling up to her hips.

In this position, she could feel his erection ridge across her crotch—so near to her throbbing center, yet so far. She squirmed against him, trying desperately to relieve the ache, not able to get the friction she needed with her bikini bottom and his damn jeans in the way.

Seth met her fidgeting with a firm thrust as he bit down the side of her neck. In some far away recess of her mind, she remembered how hard it was to cover hickeys with make-up while another recess reminded her that stage make-up hid more than film make-up, and the most dominant part of her mind said, “Who the f**k cares?” She wanted him to suck her and bite her and pinch at her skin until he’d marked her completely. Until he’d demonstrated his desire on every inch of her.

Using the wall to leverage her body, Seth removed a hand from her ass and untied the shoulder strings of her cover-up. It fell, bunching between them at her waist. Then he pulled at the string behind her neck, releasing her br**sts from captivity. She was proud of her br**sts—they were one hundred percent real and amazingly firm. Not that she wouldn’t get surgery the minute they began to fall, but so far they’d held.

And from the look on Seth’s face, he appreciated how well they’d held. He leaned back to gaze at them, a wicked smile sliding into place. After what seemed like an eternity, he bent to lick first one nipple then the other. Then he leaned back again and blew a stream of air across them, seeming to admire how they puckered even more tightly.

Heather moaned, needy for action, not his eyes.

He understood, returning his mouth to her breast, he sucked her taut bud into his warmth, and lowered his hand to the place where she needed him most, pressing his thumb through her suit into her aching clit.

“Fuck, yes!” she growled.

This was happening. She was in Seth’s arms, in his mouth, and she didn’t care anymore who he was or where he came from. Only cared about where he was going and whether or not he’d take her with him.

Except, there was just one thing that niggled at her. One thing that kept her from giving herself over to him completely. “So,” she panted near his ear, “then you do like me?”

It was ridiculous to ask, but it mattered to her in an insane way. Almost as intensely as she needed him inside her, she needed his approval, his understanding. His acceptance of her perma-bitch attitude with him.

He closed his teeth around her nipple and bit hard. She yipped at the wonderful mixture of pleasure and pain. When he let go, he pulled away and looked her in the eyes. “Are you still embarrassed by me?”

One word and he’d take her. She knew it, could feel it in her bones.

But just as she had no understanding of why she needed his acceptance, she understood that he needed hers.