Page 99 of Blood Stone

“You’re the one man on the set who knew what was bugging me and you’re the one man who could make that call for completely selfless reasons. You pulled Adrian here because you genuinely wanted him to try and help me.”

“I’d like to wring his bloody neck,” Garrett muttered. “Adrian blowing his fuse is not what I had in mind. There’s been enough of that tonight.”

“I pushed him into it. It’s not his fault.”

“Adrian is a master of self-control. You could skewer him with hot pokers and he wouldn’t give up a smile if he didn’t want to.”

The image made her grin, because it was so absolutely correct. Garrett had nailed Adrian’s character completely.

“He got angry with you because he wanted to, Kate,” Garrett finished.

Her grin faded. “He told me to fix this mess I’ve made, in whatever way it needs to be fixed.”

She heard him catch his breath. In the dark, she couldn’t tell the fine details about his expression, but he was watching her very closely.

Kate stepped toward him. Garrett stood maybe three feet away from her, but it was like crossing the Pacific. It was a journey that took forever. Garrett remained still, not helping her.

She reached out and rested her hand on his chest and he let out his breath. It was shaky.

The memory of his bare chest and the lean muscles drove her to tug at his shirt, pulling it from his jeans and slip the buttons undone. His exposed flesh gleamed softly in the moonlight and she pushed the shirt edges aside then spread her hands over his flesh.

His muscles rippled under her touch and his breath shuddered. His hands came to life and he lifted her face up to his. “If we do this,” he said, “Then it won’t be just the once, Kate. I know I won’t be able to take my fill of ye in just one sip. So if ye looking for the equivalent of a cold shower, then ye best look for the shower truck, over yonder.”

DoveAngel. She sighed. His voice, his demeanour, his accent… “If you promise you’ll always talk this way to me, you can take me as often as you can, Calum Micheil.”

His mouth pressed against her, in a kiss that began gentle and grew languid and heavy and more frantic as the seconds ticked by. He held her up against him, half lifting her to meet his lips. Her hands were trapped against his chest and she could feel his heart slamming against his ribs, just beneath them.

She pressed against his chest, separating them, breaking the kiss. Putting just enough room between them so she could breathe. And recover. Her body was pounding with need. Yes, this was the solution.

His belt buckle slipped undone easily, despite her fingers feeling like swollen, clumsy parodies of themselves.

“Here?” he asked, sounding more startled than alarmed.

She looked around. The set was deserted and after her tirades and temper of the first half of the night’s filming, the chances of anyone coming near the command centre and risking running into her during their meal break were close to zero.

“Here is perfect.” Itwasperfect. This was her set. Her movie.

She tucked her hand into the band of his jeans and walked backwards, pulling him with her. He followed without resistance. When they reached her chair, he smiled. “I see,” he said. “You’re a great one for symbols, aren’t ye, Kate?”

She turned her back on the chair, facing him, and unzipped his jeans. “It’s my profession,” she said. “Everything on the screen is a symbol of the real thing. Now hush, Calum Micheil. I want to savour this.”

She pushed his jeans open and leaned forward to taste his flesh, over the well-defined six pack, licking and sucking her way down to the denim outlined ‘vee’ of flesh. Long before she reached it, she felt his cock stir and rise up against his abdomen, protruding from his jeans.

She pushed the denim further down his hips, letting his cock jut out into the night air and curled her hand around the base of the shaft.

Garret was well built. His cock was both thick and long and deeply veined. She bent and slid her tongue from the base to the tip.

His long fingers thrust into her hair and clenched. Hard. “Ah…gods,” he muttered, his voice thick with the power of his arousal. Kate could feel the strength of it in the rigidness of his cock and the way it pulsed in her hand.

With a smile, she plunged him into her mouth, letting the head ride to the back of her throat, as her tongue slid along the underside. She reached for and cupped the swollen sacs of his testicles, more evidence of how truly aroused he was.

His hips shifted. He gave a tiny thrust and she knew he was ready to explode. “Kate,” he groaned as she supped on the pulsing head of his cock. It was a warning.

His cum shot to the back of her mouth in convulsive streams, giving her no choice but to accept the fluid even if she had not intended to. Kate licked him clean and released him from her mouth.

She would have got to her feet, but Garrett was faster. His hands swooped down to her waist, picked her up off her feet, turned her around and put her back on them, facing the chair.

He pushed up behind her, his hands snaking around to grab at her belt buckle. He was breathing hard. “Two can play this game, you know.” His lips were against her ear, his voice a deep, dark promise. He yanked her belt undone and jerked the fly down.