Catch a Falling Star (Second Chances Book 3) by Merry Farmer Read Free Book Online

would disagree with you than not.” Too bitter. He sounded far too bitter.
    She lowered the magazine. “So more than this idiot thinks that other director…” she checked the article, “that Wendy Ouziel, should have won?”
    He answered with a noncommittal hum. There were too many idiots in the world.
    Instead of prying, Jo said, “Reviewers can be so cruel, can’t they?”
    Her comment took him by surprise. He blinked. Come to think of it, she would know. People reviewed books the same way they reviewed shows.
    Hope, and a few other significant things, surged. He plucked the magazine out of Jo’s hands and tossed it on the floor. He would have stomped on it if it wouldn’t have made him look petty. “Let’s not talk about that right now.” In fact, he needed to do anything and everything but talk about it. He closed his hands around her sides and lifted her on top of the counter, wedging between her legs.
    She tilted her head up to meet his mouth as he brought it crashing down over hers. Her arms slid up over his shoulder, fingers threading in his hair and banishing his fear. Kissing her made him feel so much better that he rolled his eyes shut. Her tongue teased away the bitter taste in his mouth. His fingertips traced the smooth line of her underarm around to her breasts.
    “You have wonderful breasts,” he murmured, moving to flicker his tongue across her earlobe.
    “Really?” Her answer was sweet and wry. “I’ve always thought they were too small. Definitely not romance heroine breasts.”
    The things she said tickled him. He chuckled as he kissed her neck. “I have no complaints.”
    “Well, as long as you have no complaints.”
    “None at all.”
    He lifted her off the counter. He could feel how hot and wet she was as he carried her back to bed, her legs and arms wrapped around him. She smiled as he lay her on the rumpled sheets. That smile could light up the sky on a stormy night. It could cut through the encroaching panic that had him poised on the edge of a cliff. Who said that sex wasn’t an adequate solution to the problems of the world?
    He reached for the bedside table and another condom.
    “How did your phone call go?” she asked.
    He paused halfway through rolling the condom on, instantly worried he’d lose the rigidity he needed to keep it in place.
    “Fine,” he answered and finished with the condom, giving himself an extra stroke to keep things looking up. “I was supposed to meet with my producers this afternoon.”
    “Oh, am I keeping you from them?” She was so damn genuine. It made him hot.
    Something had to after the cold water the Pollards had poured on him.
    “Yes. Yes you are.” He grinned and stretched over her like a leopard on the prowl, claiming her mouth again.
    “Do you want me to go?” she asked, breathless, when he let her up for air.
    “No, I’d much rather you come .”
    She laughed at him, laughed at his ridiculous line. Her arms reached up to clasp around his back, pulling him down as if she wanted him. Badly. She even arched her body up to rub against his as he covered her. She wasn’t acting, God bless her.
    She also wasn’t acting when she said, “Are you sure it’s not more important for you to meet with your producers?”
    “Hmm?” No. Not now. Not when he was finally shoving that debacle out of his mind in favor of the anticipation of being sheathed balls-deep inside of her.
    “You’re a famous director, after all. I don’t want to get between you and a show.”
    All this honey, and she wasn’t even fishing for a part or networking or making demands.
    “Darling,” he growled, kissing her for the pure joy of it, “you can get between me and anything .”
    She giggled. “But are you—”
    He thrust into her to cut her off. It was crass, he knew, but moving inside of her melted her protests into a gasping moan. He worked his hips against hers, slow and deep. She made no secret of how much she enjoyed him, none at all. And good God,