Wanna Play (Ghost Unit, Book Three) Read online

  “A lone woman with no support making that accusation is not the same as a respected actress coming forward with evidence in hand. The bastard has to be getting nervous. She could really fuck up his little habit.”

  Blaster kept an eye on the filming as he talked. He’d thought her affect on him would start to fade by now. Beautiful became commonplace when it was looked at long enough. He hadn’t been watching her long enough apparently. His other head kept insistently reminding him of that fact. Even talking on the phone he was aware of her every move.

  When had his cock become “Jas radar”? And how did he make it stop? Shit, finding ways to make it stop would involve all sorts of experiments. Every one of those tests included her and the creative things both of them were capable of.

  “We’ll see what comes up.” Gray was obviously already distracted with what he was looking at.

  “I’ll be heading down from Ohio soon as we get off the phone. I expect an introduction after this,” Jackson added.

  “Let me know when you get here, Jack.” Blaster didn’t bother responding to the introduction part. He wasn’t sure he wanted Jackson fawning on her. Flipping the phone shut, he didn’t feel much better about the situation. Something didn’t set right with the entire state of affairs. A “dog” was sniffing around Jas, but the effort to wear a different skin each time it got close said there was more involved. Nothing straightforward about it.

  Blaster figured if he were trying to intimidate a person, he would make it very clear who was doing it. All this effort to make it look racial said the force behind the action was used to concealing its identity. Blaster watched them start filming a new sequence as he thought about it. He couldn’t put his finger on exactly what this felt like.

  Several times during the morning, her eyes sought him. The first time Jas quirked an eyebrow and glanced around. Her body-language question about gave him a buzz. She expected him to read her. He shook his head and grinned, telling her the area was free of lurkers today. Both her brows went up, asking him if he was sure. He nodded slightly and subtly adjusted his dick in an arrogant motion that told her how sure he was. Her response startled a bark of laugher out of him when she turned around and bent over to adjust the laces on her boots. That move was just as arrogant and direct as the one he’d sent. It was also playing with him. She couldn’t have been clearer with the message to kiss her ass if she’d said the words.

  He had no problem kissing whatever she presented. She’d figure that out at some point. Until then, he chuckled and winked when she stood, certain she’d caught his reply. He’d kiss that ass anytime, anywhere. They were ready to shoot the next scene and Jas went back to work. The conversation had been carried out across the clearing from each other. Blaster blew out a breath and shook his head.

  The Unit had perfected silent communication. Their private method was a mix of sign language, military hand signals and Native American signs. All six men were fluent. He supposed his ease with sign communication sort of leaked through. Why else would she so easily fall into this form of contact with him? It wasn’t normal for people who were not long-time companions.

  Lunch was served on site while two more scenes were being set up. Jas strolled over to where Blaster was seated at a side table. There weren’t enough folding chairs for everyone since no one expected the entire company to be eating at the same time. She slid between his legs and sat down on one of his thighs as if she’d been doing it for ages. Blaster had been chatting with one of the stunt men.

  “Hey, babe.” Blaster’s hand naturally landed below the small of her back as her lovely butt settled on his thigh. “Want me to fix you a plate?”

  “No, this one is fine.” Jas scooted up him so her hip nudged his abdomen, took the fork from his hand and started working on his plate of food.

  His hand caressed her back as she ate and conversation resumed. Jas was soon laughing, her dry humor drew most everyone else who wasn’t working and the table off to the side soon became crowed.

  She ate, chatted and glowed. She had it, whatever the it is that draws people. Some call it star quality or natural charisma. Blaster found holding her, touching her was intoxicating as the crowd around them thickened. She was the center of attention though she didn’t intentionally hog the spotlight. That was the it thing, he decided. She was generous with attention to each person there. Laughing, joining with them, not trying to lead. The amazingly equal feeling was extended to the barely twenty-something grips as well as the seasoned professionals.

  Watching, he realized she might naturally draw people but she also subtly manipulated conversation to include everyone. She made a point of it. This group of people would be her fans forever, right down to the truck drivers. She knew all their names and how to give attention or credit. While making a joke, she’d suddenly ask the painfully nervous young man the name of a comic book character she needed to finish the joke. He knew it and felt a short snap of pride when she thanked him with the compliment that he knew the best bad guys. Conversation went on and the boy was more of a man.

  She finished his food, drank his drink and Blaster was damn happy. He felt proud of her. Admiration, amusement and satisfaction to be the one she leaned in to when she was done. His body adjusted to be her chair as her legs now settled over both of his thighs so she could relax on his lap. She was completely comfortable with the public display and so was he, Blaster realized.

  All he had to do was look at her to want her but getting to know her was creating a different kind of desire. Something deeper. It began to bother him that he didn’t technically have the right to be proud of her. He hadn’t earned it. Most of all, he hadn’t earned her trust. Hadn’t put in the time to rightfully enjoy holding her. Their relationship was an act as much as her film character. That needed to change. He wanted this woman, but he was beginning to want more, much more than sex.

  The morning of watching her work the movie had given him a respect for the talent she brought to it. She worked hard, took it seriously and expected everyone else to do the same. Now as he held her, his respect for her naturally generous personality grew into admiration. And then there was the dangerous side of her. She was a stunning huntress who tempted with the promise of wicked risk in every movement. If a guy was lucky enough to get next to her in an intimate way, it was because she wanted him to.

  He was damn sure she could make any man fall for her in less than a day. Look where his sorry ass was headed. Uncomfortable with the possibility that there could be someone else out there who had a right to hold her but didn’t have the skills for this situation, he decided to make the most of his opportunity. It occurred to him that it might not be exactly ethical to use this pretend relationship to build a real one. That thought just made him smile. Too damn bad.

  Her body shifted on his lap as she chatted and he began to suspect it wasn’t all accidental. That sweet ass was rubbing his cock and the little witch knew what she was doing.

  His hand slid down her bottom as he leaned into her ear. “Something you’re interested in keeping up, Sheena?”

  Jas looked down and bit her lip so the others wouldn’t see her smile. Conversation flowed around them in a heated exchange over which comic book superhero had been best portrayed in a movie.

  “That has been up all morning, Huckleberry,” she informed him in a private tone only he could hear.

  “And here I thought you wanted me for my mind.” Blaster sighed mournfully. “Now I find all you’re checking is the equipment.”

  “Oh I do want you for your mind. The part you think with is your most attractive feature.” Jas’ eyes danced as her ass shifted again. “I was just wondering how deep your thought process could go.”

  Blaster gritted his teeth through the caress to already engorged nerve endings. “Do that again and we’ll be going to the truck to discuss it, woman. You just said you wanted me and my thoughts. In hillbilly speak, you proposed to me.”

  “Gawd, I love it when you translate.” Her
lashes fluttered in mock innocence. “Just takes my breath away.”

  “I’ve even got a clean towel in there. So behave. That equals a hillbilly Hilton, ya know.”

  Laughing softly, she stood. He immediately moved his chair into the table to be sure he was covered from the waist down.

  Jas trailed a hand across the width of his shoulders. He was sexy, smart and funny. Damn, she hoped he was what he appeared. Bending to brush his lips, there was no resisting the temptation to taste him. Her tongue sneaked a lick. “Gotta go to work, lover,” she purred for the audience’s benefit. Blaster’s eyes narrowed on her as she straightened.

  “I’ll be waiting,” was his only comment as Jas strode to the set, smiling.

  They filmed until the summer sun went down. It was nine p.m. before the set was packed and everyone left the site. Then Jas was in the sound trailer with Barry going over the day’s takes. It’d been a good day of work and both of them were excited that they’d gotten a little ahead of schedule. Around eleven they finally left the sound trailer and headed to their rooms.

  Jas was dead tired. Throughout the afternoon Blaster had made sure she had enough Gatorade or something to eat if she wanted it. He’d been amazed at how physically hard it was to make an action movie. His respect for everyone involved increased as he watched them pour out every bit of energy they possessed for the camera.

  When the two of them reached her motel room door, Jas glanced at him with an eyebrow raised in question.

  “Let me have a look around, woman,” Blaster growled. “Just because we haven’t heard from them today doesn’t mean they gave up.”

  He entered the room while she leaned on the wall outside. Apparently she didn’t have the energy to argue.

  The room was clean. He came out the door and nodded as she peeled herself off the wall and went in.

  “Don’t lock the door,” he called after her and received a grunt in return.

  He figured half an hour and she’d be dead to the world, if not before. The shower went on and he relaxed. Gliding into the shadows, Blaster did a quick recon of the parking lot and surrounding area. Nothing was out of place. The correct vehicles were parked where they should be. The only thing that gave him pause was Mark standing outside his trailer across the parking lot from Jas’ door. The man was smoking a cigarette and appeared to be watching Jas’ motel room door.

  Blaster knew Mark had been there when they went into the room. He’d obviously seen Blaster come out and not return to the room with her. Time to make sure Mark saw Blaster enter that door and not come out. There was going to be no question about who slept in there.

  Blaster’s upper lip curled back in a silent snarl. He knew she was fucking beautiful and men around the globe would want her. But this ass just rubbed his primal beast the wrong way. And he had the nerve to do it blatantly. Blaster sincerely hoped the time would come when he could set Mark straight on who was allowed to touch her and who wasn’t.

  Being sure he was completely visible and making it look as if he’d just gotten something from his truck, Blaster paused in front of Jas’ door before entering. He drew the Heckler & Koch USP SD 9mm from its holster under his arm, checking the ambidextrous safety. He enjoyed the soft hiss as it switched on and off both sides of the weapon. Pulling the magazine, he checked it before sliding it in. Slipping the gun back into its holster, he looked up directly at Mark and smiled a predatory grin. More a baring of teeth to make sure the message had gotten across. Entering the room, he closed the door quietly.

  She was passed out on the bed, sheet pulled over her back and breathing deeply.

  Quietly shucking boots, the guns and shirt, Blaster lay down and closed his eyes. On the floor again. Dammit.

  “Everything okay?” Jas asked quietly.

  A little surprised, Blaster responded, “Yeah, looks like.”

  “What’s with the lock and load outside the door then?”

  “You’re supposed to be sleeping. That was a bit of man talk with your stalker.”

  “Mark watching the door again?” Jas chuckled softly in a pillow-muffled way. “Think he’s bright enough to understand your meaning?”

  It wasn’t quite “pillow talk” but the intimacy of the murmured discussion in the dark was surprisingly comfortable. If at all possible, Blaster avoided discussion when in a bed with a woman. It was invariably a clingy time and women became unreasonably needy. He found it unreasonable because they always wanted holding and none of the good stuff. Jas wasn’t sharing his pillow so maybe that’s why this felt right.

  “I’m not sure his ego allows him much room to hear anything. Important thing is I enjoyed myself.”

  Jas’ smile was in her tone. “That’s the important part?”

  “Of course. Making a statement to ego boy is pointless unless I enjoy it. Go to sleep. You have to be on set at six a.m.”

  “I’ll sleep when you stop distracting me.”

  “Hell, woman, I left my jeans on. It’s your problem if you want me that bad.”

  “Now whose ego doesn’t leave him much room to hear?” Jas sighed and rolled over. “’Night.”

  Jas woke up to the shower again. It was quarter to five in the morning and it felt as if her limbs were made of lead. Oh for the luxury of rolling over and just drifting off again. The shower went off and she didn’t move except her eyes opened halfway. He’d be coming out and, well, the show had been damn interesting yesterday.

  It occurred to her that there was no trepidation this morning. How could she be comfortable, even relaxed with this stranger? Not really relaxed. There was too much “zippy” sexual tension between them, but there was also calm. Oh hell, calm wasn’t the word but she didn’t want to use the one that fit there. Trust was a huge step for her. A word she wasn’t willing to toss around at this point.

  He came out of the little bath and toilet room. Directly beside it was the sink and mirror where shaving things were laid out. Again the tiny motel towel was knotted at one hip. On that side he was bare to the knot and above it, the towel straining to make it. Those muscled legs and firm ass were just too fine not to study as he went about the morning rituals. Not to mention the flex of his back as he reached for the razor. He started shaving.

  Jas watched lazily, realizing she’d never seen a man do the whole morning habit. She’d seen parts of it as a guy got it together to leave. Or as she gathered her belongings to get out of his place. In fact, she’d never actually slept the entire night with a man in the room before. There was a stunning realization that should have occurred before.

  The shock of that thought made her shut her eyes to concentrate on it. Why the hell was she able to sleep with him in the room? He’d been here what? Two days?

  “If you’re pretending to be asleep, frowning gives you away,” Blaster drawled as he rinsed the razor and continued with the job at hand.

  Jas’ eyes opened to meet his in the mirror. “I make it a rule not to pretend anything with a man,” she snapped at him before she’d really thought about the response. It was the first thing that popped into her head and she regretted it. Him mostly naked and her lying in bed was not the time to start flirty, sexual banter. “Shit! I shouldn’t have said that. That was not an invitation or suggestion or any other damn thing. It’s too early to watch what I say.”

  Blaster continued shaving calmly for a few seconds. “Jas, relax. I already told you we’d wait ’til you fall in love with me. I’m not going to jump you.”

  “From a guy I’ve known all of two days, that’s reassuring.”

  “You know you can trust me, woman. You already do, so get over it and get outta bed.”

  Jas rolled over and sat with her back to him. This time she had on a sports bra and baggy gym shorts. Getting up with him in the room didn’t concern her. Scruffy bed-head, ratty shorts and the utilitarian sports bra did not equal seductive.

  She stared at the beige motel room wall for a few minutes. He was right. She had extended trust. But it’d been s
o natural. It was a weed growing around the sharp comments and laughing. It was woven into the ability to communicate without words that had sprung up between them. It fed the sexual tension in their pretend relationship that wasn’t so pretend when he was touching her. He’d extended respect and even admiration for her abilities, both acting and defensive, and she’d sucked it down like a starving idiot.

  She wanted him to respect her. That was the thing that did it. The fact that he was sexy and charming as original sin wouldn’t have made an impression if he hadn’t added the one gift she couldn’t resist. Respect. He’d read her. From their first encounter he’d been learning her and using the information so effectively.

  Was it possible he didn’t know respect was a tool? A reward that could be held just out of reach? Nope, not a chance. Huckleberry was way too bright not to realize that. Was it possible he was sincere? Unknown. She wanted it to be real but it was wise to doubt it.