Page 20 of Her Hollywood Master (Master Me #6)

M arissa wrapped a towel around her waist and padded, barefooted out to the kitchen, combing her wet hair.

She was sore, in the most delicious way, from the rough sex the night before.

Joel had gone to Crossfit. Antonio had texted that he didn’t need them until the next day, so she’d been indulging in a lazy morning, sleeping in and then taking a thirty minute shower.

The sound of the door from the garage reached her and she smiled, wondering if she should drop her towel entirely and let Joel find her naked.

She should have realized the footsteps were too fast, too light, but she was wrapped up in her fantasy of being taken by her hot, dominant daddy again.

She pulled off her towel and tossed it over the back of a chair, then pulled the espresso machine forward, as if she always made coffee in the nude.

“Oh,” a female voice exclaimed.

She jumped and shrieked, diving for the towel.

“Oh,” the woman repeated inanely. “I didn’t realize Joel had...a guest.” She said the word guest like it was the equivalent of lice or rats. Despite discovering Joel, indeed had a guest, she came in, dropping her purse on the counter like she belonged there.

Fuck. She must be his ex-wife. “Um...what are you doing here?”

She walked straight into the kitchen and opened the cabinet, pulling out a ceramic airtight container, which she popped open. From a lower cabinet she pulled out a coffee grinder.

So that’s where he kept them.

“I had some time to kill on this side of town, so I thought I’d stop in and have a snack.

I get cranky when I get low blood sugar,” she said as if that explained everything.

“I saw the Porsche, but I thought maybe Joel had turned in the Tesla or something. He changes cars every six months, you know.”

Actually, she didn’t know, and for some reason that really pissed her off.

“I’m Marissa,” she said, then kicked herself. What the hell was wrong with her? This woman barged in on her, not the other way around.

“Right,” she said. “Marissa Sparks, of course. I know Joel really wanted you for Canyon del Oro .” She poured some beans into the coffee grinder and started it up, turning to give her an up and down look while it ran. When it stopped, she said, “I’m glad it worked out.”

Sweat trickled down Marissa’s ribs and her heart ricocheted around like a pinball in a machine.

Why did it bother her so much to know Joel had talked about her with his ex-wife?

It felt like a complete violation. Like he’d cheated on her or something, but that was stupid.

That was before she even knew him. Except here she was, in his kitchen, making her own coffee while Marissa stood around naked under her towel.

For some reason, she didn’t want to leave her in the kitchen to go get dressed. Like she needed to hold her ground.

She tightened the towel. “What’s your name?”

“Oh. Sorry, I’m Allie,” she said, holding out her hand.

Marissa took it reluctantly, and of course, her towel loosened and slipped, so she had to yank her hand back to catch it before she wound up naked again.

“I’m Joel’s wife. I mean, ex-wife. I’m still not used to saying it,” she said with a rueful laugh. “It hasn’t been that long, you know.”

Heat crept up her neck to her ears. No, she didn’t know, really. She didn’t know anything, did she? The snarkiest part of her wanted to say something like, “How’s your yoga instructor?” But she kept her inner bitch inside. Making waves wasn’t her style.

Allie scooped the freshly ground coffee into the espresso machine and poured a cup of water in, then walked to the fridge and pulled out the milk and a carton of blueberries.

She opened the blueberries and scooped a handful, popping them into her mouth.

No spoon, no bowl. Her germs all over their blueberries.

The espresso machine began to hiss and Allie filled the frothing cup and started steaming her milk.

Okay, this was just getting ridiculous. Apparently her cup of coffee would have to wait until Allie had taken care of her hypoglycemic needs.

“I’m going to get dressed,” she muttered, stalking to the bedroom. With any luck, the ex would be gone by the time she returned. Except she couldn’t stay away. She threw on some clothes and came back out, drawn like a magnet to metal.

Allie was sorting through a stack of mail.

Seeing the physical evidence of her marriage to Joel—even if it was just mail being sent to his address—stabbed Marissa in the heart.

“So how’s the filming coming? I heard things had been slow since you’ve been back from New Mexico.”

Her breath stopped and a knot formed in her belly. What the hell had he told her? Something about her? About how she’d fucked up? She managed a one-shoulder shrug as an answer.

“When is the release date, do you know?”

“June fourth.”

“Oh, right. I knew that. Well, I’ll have to come to the opening. I already bought my dress for the big opening of Joel’s movie Cerebral next week.”

She felt like she’d been punched in the gut. He was taking his ex-wife as his date to the opening of one of his movies? What the hell?

She’d been foolish to even pretend she had a relationship with him. She hardly knew the guy. He had an ex-wife, with years and years of history, a woman he was obviously on friendly enough terms with to let her keep a key to his house and drop in unannounced at any time of day.

Why the hell would she imagine, even for a second, she had any place in his life? They had an arrangement until the filming was over. Nothing more. And the sooner she got that through her pining heart, the better.

Joel carried all the grocery bags into the house in one trip. He’d stopped to buy steak and staple items, planning to make a nice dinner for Marissa that night. He wanted to reward her for her submission the night before.

Just thinking about the way she’d looked on her knees at his feet had him hard again. He opened the door from the garage and headed in.

Marissa sat at the kitchen table, the earbuds to her mp3 player in her ears. She was bent over the script, which was odd, since she knew it inside and out by now.

“Hey sweetheart,” he called out.

She looked up, her face devoid of any expression.

A spike of concern shot through him. Something was off.

He set the grocery bags down and walked over to drop a kiss on the top of her head. “What’s up? How was your morning?”

She pulled the earbuds out of her ears and stood up, nodding. “Yeah. Good. I’m going to go for a walk on the beach now. I’ll see you in a little bit, okay?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hang on just a minute.” He bit off the “little girl” he almost tacked onto the end. Some instinct told him this wasn’t the moment to bring out the dominance. Still, he couldn’t help his take charge personality. “I’ll go with you,” he said. “I just need to put the groceries away.”

“No, that’s okay. I kinda feel like being alone.” She pushed past him.

“Marissa—” He caught her around the waist but she pried his hand away and stepped back.

“I just need some space right now, okay?”

A blast of cold went through his limbs. “Yeah, okay. We’ll talk when you get back,” he said.

She left without answering.

He stood frozen for a moment, digesting the scene.

What had happened to make Marissa shut down?

Something with her mom or sister? Maybe they had shamed her for the deal she’d made with him.

He grimaced, hating that he might have made a whore out of her in some people’s eyes.

He rubbed his chest, which suddenly ached, and not from his workout.

Whatever had happened, he wanted to fix it.

But he had no clues to help him decode Marissa when she had her walls up.

He put the groceries away, all the joy he’d imagined in cooking for her gone. He paced through the house, looking for clues. He even crossed the line and violated Marissa’s privacy by checking her cell phone, but she hadn’t received or made any calls or texts that day.

He settled in the living room, opening the drapes to look out at the ocean. How long would she be gone? What if she didn’t come back? His heart constricted. No, she had to come back, she’d left her purse here. But what if she packed her things and walked out?

He stood up and began to pace again. An hour and a half passed before he saw Marissa walking up the beach toward the house.

Relief rushed through him. He started to head out to meet her, but held himself back.

She’d asked for space, he needed to give it to her.

His domineering personality would only smother her if she was feeling skittish about their arrangement.

His cell phone rang and he pulled it out of his pocket. Damn. His ex-wife.

He answered it, his eyes following Marissa’s path to the back door. “Hey, Allie. What’s up?”

“So, Marissa Sparks, huh?”

He sighed and rubbed his forehead. He had no idea how she’d heard when it hadn’t even hit the tabloids yet, but it wasn’t really her business.

“Was she mad about me stopping by?”

He went still. Downstairs, he heard the back door open and close. “Yeah,” he said. “You could say that.”

“Sorry. I didn’t know she’d be running around naked. I didn’t mean to startle her.”

Marissa’s head appeared as she came up the steps, and she looked in his direction, but didn’t quite make eye contact. She walked past without saying anything.

Irritation with Allie flared. “Look,” he said, “you can’t just stop by here. This isn’t your house anymore.”

Marissa’s steps faltered and she stopped, looking over her shoulder uncertainly.

He gave her a grim look.

“Well, I was just picking up my mail. And I had an appointment on your side of town, so I stopped in to make myself some coffee and have a bite to eat before I went.”

“Next time stop at Starbucks, instead. I’ve moved on, Allie. And you should, too. Popping in at my house uninvited and unannounced is bad form.”