directions, but as there were only two bedrooms on a single floor, she knew he could figure it out. Sure enough, he went directly into her bedroom, where he placed her on the quilt. Before he joined her, he sent his jeans and boxers skidding to the other side of the room.
He slid down next to her and put his hands on her body. He began at her forehead, lightly tracing her skin. He touched her cheekbones, her ears, her jaw. He traced her shoulders, her collarbone, before settling his hands on her breasts.
From there, he journeyed down her waist, over her hips, to the vee between her legs. She’d thought he might linger, finish what he started. But instead he continued down her thighs to her knees, her calves to her ankles.
He made the return trip more slowly. When he reached the soft skin of her inner thighs, he shifted between her legs, parted her and bent down to kiss her.
His tongue went immediately to where she was most sensitive. The steady stroking, a back and forth rhythm designed to drive her to madness, made her moan. Her body was not her own. He controlled every reaction, every sensation. Over and over again. Up and down.
Her muscles tensed. She felt herself straining toward the finish.
Not yet, she thought frantically. It was too good. She had to make it last. But it was impossible. The sureness of his touch, the feel of him against her. She felt herself nearing the end, nearing the inevitable.
Then he shifted slightly and inserted a finger deep inside of her. He pushed in once, twice, and she was lost. Her body dove into the pleasure. It swept through her, over her and around her. It was everywhere, and she never wanted it to end.
But gradually, the shuddering slowed. She felt herself resurfacing, returning to the real world. Lethargy battled with contentment. She hadn’t felt this good in a really long time.
Just as the last of her climax faded away, Finn straightened, then put his hands on her hips. He entered her with one smooth, determined thrust. He was as big as she had imagined and filled her completely.
When he was all the way inside, she opened her eyes and smiled at him. “Nice,” she whispered.
He managed a grin. “You like?”
“I do.”
She wrapped her legs around his hips and drew him closer. When he withdrew and thrust in again, she urged him to go deeper. She wanted to take all of him. She wanted to get lost in what they were doing. This was life. This is what people who were alive did.
Every time he filled her, she found herself moving a little closer to who she had been before. Her body accepted him, widening and stretching to accommodate him. She felt him get closer. She felt herself getting more aroused.
Next time, she promised herself. Next time she would come again. But for now it was enough to feel him tensing. To feel him straining. To hold him as he lost himself in her.
SASHA AND LANI both sat cross-legged on the only bed in her motel room. The space he shared with his brother was bigger, but not by much. Once they’d been picked for the show, the production company paid for their food and lodging. Not that Geoff saw the need to pay for anything extravagant. So they were all stuck where they started.
When the show was over, they each got twenty grand. More than enough to finance his move to L.A.
Lani spread out several sheets of paper onto the bedspread. A few were new, but some of the pages looked old, with stains, tears and creases from being folded and unfolded again and again.
“I want to be a household name by the time I’m twenty-two,” Lani said, her dark brown eyes bright with conviction. “Movies would be great, but TV feels like more of a sure thing. I flew to L.A. last year for pilot casting season.” She paused and looked at him.
Sasha nodded. He knew enough about how the media worked to be familiar with pilot season.
Every year the networks and cable stations produced pilots for potential television series. Then the executives at the various stations decided which shows got a chance to be seen and which were dumped before they’d even begun. Casting was a big part of making a pilot, and unknowns were welcome to try.
Getting onto a pilot was huge, but once cast, there were no guarantees. Even if the show got picked up—a one in a million shot—your part could get recast with someone else. It was an actor’s version of the lottery.
“How did you do?” he asked.
She sighed. “I got on two pilots. Neither went anywhere.”
She raised her arms above her head and stretched. As she moved, her T-shirt pulled across her boobs.
Sasha watched, mostly out of habit. Lani was beautiful. Her features were exotic, and he would bet she would photograph great.
“What about modeling?” he asked.
“I’m too short,” she told him. “Five-five. It’s not going to happen. I’ve done some swimsuit stuff back home. Catalogues, that kind of thing. Of course I’ve had tons of offers to do nude shots, but there’s no way. I wouldn’t want those pictures to come back and haunt me when I’m up for an Oscar.”
He wanted to get out of Alaska and be famous and very rich. Being a star was a way to make that happen. But Lani wanted it all. A serious acting career, awards and scores of paparazzi following her every move.
“We need to nail down our plan,” she said, shuffling the papers. Her long, dark, wavy hair tumbled over her shoulders.
He supposed he should want to have sex with her or something. If she took off her clothes and offered, he wouldn’t say no. But he wasn’t really interested in her that way. Lani was the first person he’d met who wanted the same thing he did, only more. He understood that if they worked together, they would have a better chance of getting it all.
“You know, if we win, we’ll each get a hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars,” he said, leaning back against the pillows. “Plus the twenty. I want to rent a house in Malibu.”
“Don’t be an idiot,” she told him. “That’s before taxes. We’ll be lucky to walk away with seventy thousand. And that has to last. I’m getting an apartment in the San Fernando Valley. Somewhere near the studios in Burbank, and an easy drive over the hills. That way I can be in Century City or Hollywood pretty fast. I know if I don’t get picked up right away, I’ll need to get a job.” She looked at him. “Do you have your dream list of agents?”
Agents? “Ah, not really.”
“I do. Once this show starts to air, I’m going to be making calls, asking their assistants to watch me. There’s no way I’ll get to the agent I want, but assistants love to take calls. They’re looking for the next big thing. They want to find him or her and take that potential client to their boss.”
Sasha stared at her. He and Lani might be about the same age, but he suddenly felt like a kid at the grown-ups’ table. How did she know all this?
His questions must have shown because she grinned. “Don’t look so surprised. I’ve been working the program since I was thirteen.”
“I guess that should make me feel better.”
She
