Star Struck(12)

Mandy bit her lip and looked away from his expression. She shifted her  gaze back to the paintings. There was so much power in them, yet so much  vulnerability. He had immense talent. She wasn't sure whether these  would be a commercial success, but to her, they were worth so much  because of what they portrayed. In his art, Ethan let himself go. His  mask was off and in each piece she saw an angle of himself she never  would have imagined. One could tell without being told that a lot of  angst, passion, and heart had gone into each piece. They would have  actually seemed disturbing with their distorted, even maimed beauty, if  not for the fact that Mandy was good at seeing beyond the surface.  Whatever lurked beneath Ethan's shell, it wasn't evil or depraved. Or  like he'd once described himself, ‘twisted'. She wished she could find a  way to make him believe that.

"You must feel so blessed to be able to express your heart … your  emotions, everything that you feel in your art  –  your paintings, your  music," she said somewhat enviously. Even though her work was much of an  artistic area as well, she still understood and respected true talent  and creativity when she saw it. "I can imagine it's such a powerful way  to release all of those feelings."         

     



 

"I don't feel blessed sometimes," he said with a shrug. "Sometimes I  just wish I was normal. I'd wish I could say take away all of the money  and all of the fame … and just have peace. Give me a new blank page. So  that I can forget … "

Mandy waited with indrawn breath for his next words. There was a shadow  of pain on his face for a moment there. What did he need to forget? His  voice sounded husky and his head bowed slightly before he suddenly  looked up again and said lightly, "I've recorded some music here. This  was the first part of the house to be completely done and I've been  coming over, working on some personal stuff."

He walked on ahead and Mandy followed him, eyes drawn to him again and again as she looked around the large studio.

"There's a lot of headroom here for writing and just meditating," Ethan  went on. "It's acoustically isolated, which will prevent the neighbors  from complaining  –  if I had any. I've got some new music I'm working on.  I'd like you to hear it."

Mandy nodded eagerly and watched him go over to one of the machines. He  turned on a switch and then another knob. Mandy hid a good-natured wince  as she waited to hear the loud, intense, crash ‘n' bang that was The  Strum's music. But to her surprise, this arrangement, which was a guitar  solo, was far more serious though filled with deep, raging riffs.

Ethan was smiling as he viewed her awed expression. "It's for my  upcoming solo bass CD. Fans have been chomping at the bit for it, and  you could say I've been under a bit of pressure. But now I can't wait to  get back to recording and working on it more. You could say I've  suddenly got some serious inspiration." He turned off the music, eyes  never leaving hers.

Mandy chewed on her trembling bottom lip as Ethan's look spanned her  face with a more intimate, even teasing perusal. Was he talking about  her? He'd said and shown her so much already. In some ways, he had  spoken to her inner self more intensely than she'd have imagined  possible. Swallowing to give life to her strangled vocal chords, she  said simply, "I like." She waved her hands to encompass the room with  its high-tech recording gear and the revealing paintings on the walls  that scared and excited her at the same time. Much like the way she felt  about her desire for Ethan.

He must have read something in her eyes. Seen the indecision and wonder  on her face. She didn't want to be here. Didn't want to feel anything  for Ethan; be it affinity, longing, or even compassion for whatever  demons, whatever suffering and struggling he was weighed under.  Certainly didn't want to feel this pulsing urge in her hidden core for  the compact heat of him surrounding her, especially when he hadn't even  touched her.

"Thank you for showing me this place. I feel like I know you a lot  better now  –  in ways that will help us work great together. I can't wait  for the tour when we can … "

"Ssh," he said quietly, his index finger reaching out and resting on her  lips. Silenced by the shaft of lust that tore through her just by that  one touch on her mouth, Mandy gasped, resisting the insane urge to nip  that one sexy digit with her teeth before wrapping her lips around it  and sucking hard.

Mandy whimpered soundlessly in shamed desire.

Not moving the finger away, he stared deeply into her face.

"Every once in a while, I want something. The first time I met you, I  didn't know exactly what it was about you. All I could tell was that it  had the power to break me down and yet set me on a star shooting through  the sky. You could very well be the end of me, Mandy Sloane. But why am  I not afraid?"

He inched in a little bit closer and Mandy's nostrils flared as she drew  in the scent of him. Could smell his clean warmth, his sexy aroma, the  hint of martini, and then the faint yet distinct scent of masculine  arousal that echoed to her very core.

"I have to go," Mandy blurted out, turning around sharply and heading  for the door. Like she knew exactly where she was going. As if she could  simply stride out and skip off somewhere safe, far away from his  masculine fire. But instead, she felt more than heard him move behind  her as she attempted to open the door. His arm shot out to push it  closed with a snap, making Mandy gasp as she spun around in outrage,  only to have her body pinned by his, effectively trapping her with her  back against the door. It brought back a sense of déjà vu that reminded  her in neon colors why she never should have come here with Ethan.  Should never have left the safety of her house.

"Running. Always running away," he said softly in a low, chiding tone.  Up close, his striking handsomeness was almost blinding. His tanned,  rugged good looks further sexed up by his five o'clock shadow and all  that sinfully blond hair. And those eyes. Oh, those killer blues. They  were staring at her lips like the answer to eternity could be found  within them. Captive in more ways than one, Mandy wriggled against him,  hands pushing wildly against his hard chest. She only made him groan as  her soft curves rubbed against his hard, heated body.         

     



 

Not again, Mandy thought with mounting despair as her whole body  thrummed with lust at the feel of him so close against her. A shot of  lightning ripped down her spine and her nipples tingled. His dominant  energy, his untamable warmth burned a hole right through her weak  defenses. He was already so hard; she could feel him thick and long  against her belly. He hadn't been kidding when he said that he wanted  her. She shivered, an answering pool of hot desire settling on the apex  of her thighs. Her heartbeat accelerated and she closed her eyes  tightly. If she looked at him now …

He cupped her chin in one hand and she could almost feel his searing  gaze on her face, sense his breath fanning the small freckles dotted  across her nose and cheeks.

"Why are you doing this?" she whispered, fighting to keep the panic out  of her tone. If she struggled harder, she just might inflame him faster.  Make him go further than he'd intended. She didn't want to set him off  –   set them both off.

"Because I want you to think about this, Mandy. About you and me," he  murmured, brushing his right thumb over her lips while his other hand  stayed propped on the side of her head. "Before you rush out that door,  take a minute to consider how it could be. To at last … be able to give  in, to be with me. Finally letting go completely. I can give you that. I  can give you everything you need."

He drew in a deep, harsh breath and buried his face in her thick hair.  Mandy's eyes squeezed even more tightly shut as she was mesmerized by  the hypnotizing sound of his voice, his words. His hand fell to settle  on her hip, kneading the soft, lush flesh there.

Ethan exhaled, his lips now ghosting close to her earlobe. "I want to  know if he pleases you, that man of yours. If he makes you scream with  desire," Ethan groaned, his voice a dangerous rumble, his grip on her  waist tightening. "Does he light your body on fire? Does he make you  tremble with need? Tell me, Mandy. When he's finished … does he step back  and marvel at you, at the beauty of your body, flushed and hot with  desire? Or does he take it all for granted?"

Mandy struggled to breath, her lips quivering, her pulse racing. She  didn't want to think about her and Marcus. Not here, not now.

"What do you want from me, Ethan?" she whimpered. She was aroused beyond  belief. This room … his touch, his breath on her neck. The heat. She felt  it sear her skin, the surge of desire transmitting from him to her and  back again. It was like ESP of the most carnal kind. She could almost  taste her need for him in the back of her throat, feel the stirring  hunger in her secret folds, which pulsed in recognition of his utter  desirability. She knew she was a fool for letting this continue. It was  about to reach a critical level of responsiveness that just one touch  from him could send her into a nuclear fission, splitting her into tiny  implosive pieces.