Follow My Lead by Lisa Renée Jones

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.”
    “We won’t be,” he promised, unhooking the front clasp of her bra. “Hard and fast.” He teased her nipples, sucking them lightly. “But next time we’re going slow and hot. You have my word.”
    Her hand went to his zipper, tracing his throbbing erection. “Who says there’s going to be a next time?” She unsnapped his jeans and the next thing he knew she had her hand on his cock.
    He groaned, both from her touch and the way she challenged him. Lust jolted him. He pressed his hand to the wall above her head. “There’s going to be a next time. You can count on me doing whatever is necessary to convince you of that fact.”
    She massaged his shaft, her fingers trailing along the top, spreading the dampness gathering there. “Not if you manipulate me to get me to my room, or anywhere else, ever