Follow My Lead (Stepping Up 2)

Blake watched the screen as Darla walked toward a door that led to a private hallway, and he felt himself stir inside. This woman got to him in a big way and the last thing he wanted to do was create turmoil for her. But he couldn’t step back from her without knowing what she was doing to him.

“What’s her cell number?” he asked, grabbing his phone from his belt.

Meagan considered him a moment and then recited the number by heart. He was already turning away and hitting the call button by the time she said the last digit. Darla answered almost instantly. “We need to talk and we haven’t got long,” Blake said. “It’s important. I’m about to be at the other hotel waiting on you. By your door.” He hung up before she could decline, cringing as he thought of just how mad he’d probably just made her.

He was going to have to do some fast talking to get on her good side.

10

BLAKE QUICKLY LEARNED THAT MAD wasn’t quite a strong enough word to describe Darla’s reaction to his maneuvering her to meet him. She rounded the corner of the bank of elevators, found him by her door, and hit him with a look that could have flattened the entire building. Her cheeks were flushed, her spine stiff, and her eyes as sharp as knives. She stormed towards him, her room key in hand, and she didn’t say a word as she stepped next to him to swipe it. He could smell the floral scent of her perfume—jasmine, he thought—and taste her anger. He could feel his desire building at a fairly inappropriate time, for a completely inappropriate reason. She turned him on when she was hot and fiery. She was hot and fiery, and she’d shown none of that in that audition room with Lana.

She rushed inside and grabbed his shirt, pulling him with her. His body reacted to the touch, his cock pressing against his zipper. Damn, when had he ever wanted a woman this badly?

“Are you freaking nuts? What kind of stunt are you trying to pull? I didn’t sign up for this, Blake. Someone could have seen you. Someone might have seen you!”

Blake’s plans to talk went right out the proverbial window, his desire for Darla getting the best of him. “Yes,” he said, backing her against the door, his legs framing hers and his hands twining into her hair. “I am nuts. Nuts about you.”

“Blake,” she hissed, splaying her delicate fingers over his chest, scorching him with heat that set his heart to pumping. “I’m furious with you. Don’t you understand?”

“I get that,” he murmured, lowering his lips to a whisper above hers. “It appears it turns me on. So much so that I’m quickly forgetting I came here to talk.” His mouth met hers, claiming the kiss he wanted. She didn’t respond immediately—her body was rigid and her hand still flat on the solid wall of his chest. But she didn’t push him away and there was just a hint of a moan sliding from her mouth to his.

Blake caressed a palm over her backside. His tongue gently coaxed hers into responding, just a little kiss, a little moment of escape.

“Damn it, Blake,” she said gently. Then her tiny moan became a full-out sound of pleasure and her body relaxed into his. The hand resting on his chest traveled upward and wrapped around his neck, the other around his waist. Her tongue caught his, hot and sweet, and eager. He melded her closer, absorbing all her soft curves into his hard body. And he was hard. So hard it hurt to even think about leaving this room without finding his way inside her. She moaned again, her arms wrapping around him, as if she couldn’t get close enough. And she couldn’t. Not in his book. “This doesn’t mean I’m not furious with you,” she promised. “It just means that—”

“I know,” he said, his cock pulsing thickly against his zipper. “I want you, too.” He kissed her and, this time, he didn’t even try to hold back. His tongue plunged into her mouth, taking it, claiming it. Claiming her. A taste of honey among the bitterness he hadn’t even realized had been eating him alive. This business had gotten to him—the people, the wants, the demands of money and fame. Darla had broken through all of that and she hadn’t even tried. She was just herself—and that was unique in his world.

He reached under the silk of her tank, pulled down her bra and fingered her nipples. She shuddered with pleasure, her nails digging into his shoulders. He pushed the shirt upward. “Take it off before I get impatient and ruin it.”

She tugged it over her head, leaving her with only her pale pink bra and rose-tipped nipples peeking out. “We can’t be late back to set.”