Then again, Mick was famous. The media would want to know who his companion was.

Mick seemed very comfortable, smiling and waving to fans and posing for the cameras. And when asked about Tara, he seemed fine with introducing her—to everyone, including national reporters, magazines, even entertainment television.

Oh. My. God.

Tara wanted to crawl back in the limo, go back to the suite, and watch other people on TV. She did not want to see herself on television, though she was certain the cameras were way more interested in the movie and TV stars and models in attendance, and not her. She was not news. And fortunately, all the media people figured that out soon enough and ran off after the real celebrities so Tara could breathe.

What she did enjoy was ogling the cream of the crop of Hollywood, who stood just feet from her, giving interviews and smiling for the cameras. So when she wasn’t having cameras popping off in her face, she wished she’d thought to bring her own camera and take some pictures for Maggie and Ellen and Karie to see. Though she supposed it might have been inappropriate for her to rush up to the stars of the movie and take a candid shot of them with her mini camera.

When they finally got inside, Mick led them to their seats, and oh, the movie was wonderful. And the time spent with Mick was great. He held her hand or put his arm around her, and they both laughed at the movie, which was funny and so romantic. It was a perfect night, and Tara felt like she really was Cinderella. Mick even leaned over a few times during the movie and kissed her. She couldn’t have asked for a better date, and she’d remember this night forever.

When the movie was over, everyone shuffled out and headed for their limos.

Tara leaned against Mick, her arm entwined with his, as they slid into their car.

“I had a wonderful time, Mick. Thank you.”

He grinned at her. “You’re welcome. But it’s not over.”

“It’s not?”

“No, there are premiere after-parties. Unless you don’t want to go.”

“Oh, no. That sounds fun.”

They went to another incredibly swanky hotel where there was a party in the amazing and huge ballroom filled with balloons and movie posters and champagne fountains and—thankfully—food.

“Oh, thank God. I’m starving,” she said as she and Mick found a table.

“Me, too. I’m so glad you like to eat.”

She laughed. “Why wouldn’t I?”

He gave her a look. “You’d be amazed by the number of women I dated who didn’t eat. You wouldn’t believe the look of horror on their faces when I suggested real food. There’s nothing more depressing than watching a woman nibble on a piece of celery.”

She laughed. “No fear of that from me. Lead me to the nearest cheeseburger.”

There were photographers and media present here, too, but it didn’t seem to be as much of a frenzy as there had been on the red carpet. Still, Tara was mindful that Mick had an image to uphold, so she tried not to shovel food in her mouth, even though at the moment she could have eaten a photographer’s right arm.

The media seemed content to pick on the actors and actresses in attendance and leave them to themselves.

“You’re probably sorry you didn’t bring someone more famous with you,” she said, finally able to speak after her stomach was full.

Mick took a drink of soda, then arched a brow. “Why would you say that?”

“Because we’re pretty much being ignored by the media. If you’d brought some hot actress with you, you’d have gotten more—what do they call it?—face time?”

He laughed. “Honey, I didn’t come here so I could get photographed. God knows I get more photo opportunities than I need. I wanted to bring you so you could have a good time.”

“Oh.” She looked down at her lap, feeling stupid for saying what she’d said. “I’m sorry.”

He tipped her chin with his fingers. “Don’t be sorry. But don’t misinterpret why we’re here. I’m not using you for a photo op for myself, Tara. I brought you here tonight because I wanted to show you a good time. No ulterior motive.”

She slid her hand around the nape of his neck. “Thank you, Mick. It’s truly been the best night of my life.”

He brushed his lips across hers, the kiss soft and gentle, the kind of kiss that made her heart want to do dangerous things—like fall in love.

The flash of a camera made her jump. Tara blinked and looked into the face of a photographer.

“Send me some copies of that one, will you, Jimmy?” Mick asked.

The photographer laughed. “Sure thing, Mick.”

Tara lifted a brow at Mick after the camera guy moved away. “First-name basis with the paparazzi?”

“They shove a camera in your face often enough, you learn who they are. Jimmy’s a nice guy. He’s a freelancer. And I really do want a copy of that picture.”

“Me, too.”

“So, you ready to meet some movie stars?”

Her heart stuttered. “Seriously?”

“Sure.” He stood and held out his hand. “No point in bringing you to one of these fancy things if you can’t say you met some of the big names in Hollywood, right?”

She might just faint on the spot.

He’d loved bringing her to the premiere, had enjoyed seeing it through her eyes. He’d been to so many of these things over the years he’d become jaded about the whole experience. And the women accompanying him had been after only one thing—career exposure and as many photo and media opportunities as they could get. Which meant cameras in his face all night and nothing but interviews, with a smile plastered on his face the entire time. These events had become a painful experience.

Until Tara. She’d been wide-eyed and enthusiastic about everything, damn near petrified of the cameras, and had done her best to avoid them. And then she’d gone and apologized for the lack of camera time for him.

Amazing. And refreshing to be with a woman who wasn’t out for herself, but who cared about him. He didn’t really know what to make of her.

But he liked her. Really liked her. A lot. What wasn’t to like? She was beautiful, fun, and sexy, and their chemistry together was explosive. She was sweet and caring, and if he wasn’t careful, he could fall madly in love with her.

If he was ready to fall in love.

Was he?

“You’re staring at me.”

He looked down. Her eyes were sleepy and half-lidded and sexy as hell.

“I am. You’re beautiful when you sleep.”

She shifted, sitting up and smoothing her hand over her gown. “I am not. Sorry I sort of just dropped off there. I think the excitement of the day and night just took its toll on me.”

“It’s okay. You’ve had a long day. You were entitled to take a nap.”

When they arrived at the hotel, Mick took Tara’s hand and escorted her out of the limo. He liked being seen with her, not because she was a star, but because she was beautiful in a natural sort of way that turned people’s heads when she walked by. Another thing he really liked about her was that she had no idea how pretty she really was.

In the elevator she laid her head on his shoulder, her fingers tightly clasped in his. Mick swallowed, a giant lump in his throat.

He slipped the key inside the lock and pushed the door open, holding it for her as she walked inside, her full skirt making all kinds of sexy noises as she glided into the living area of the suite.

She turned to face him, the skirt billowing around her. She looked like a freakin’ princess, and that lump in his throat sank to his chest.

He moved to her and laid his hands on her waist. “Have I told you how incredibly beautiful you look tonight?”

He liked that she actually blushed. She placed her hands on his shoulders. “Have I told you what an amazing time I had tonight?”

And just like that, he started moving with her in his arms, their feet in perfect rhythm as he heard this idiotic song in his head. She was a princess tonight, and they needed to dance together.

“Mick.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you realize we’re dancing?”

“Yeah.”

“I have to say again how good a dancer you are.”

“You can thank my mother for that. She insisted on ballroom.” He raised his hand, and she slipped hers in his. He began to glide around the marble floor of the living room.

“I’d love to thank your mother for this. You’re amazing.”

“Don’t tell the people at Dancing with the Stars. You know they love to get football players on that show.”

She laughed. “I can’t see you wanting to do something like that.”

“No. So for the love of God, don’t put that bug in Elizabeth’s ear, either. That would be right up her alley.”

“Your secret is safe with me.”

That was the thing. He could well imagine any of his secrets being safe with her. But not the biggest secret. It was too soon to tell her everything.

He danced her to the balcony, slid the door open, and led her outside. The night was warm, the lights of the city bright and glowing. She looked over the city, and Mick wrapped his arms around her, breathing in her scent.

“It’s been a perfect night, Mick. Thank you again.”

“You’re welcome. I’m glad you had a good time.”

“Your life is amazing. The opportunities afforded to you because of your fame are incredible.”

“They are. I’ve enjoyed them while I have them, appreciate them for what they are. Fame is fleeting, especially for someone in sports. We don’t tend to have a long shelf life.”

She turned to face him. “That’s a very reasonable outlook. So what will you do when your football career is over?”

“I’ve invested well, haven’t lived beyond my means. I’ll have plenty of money when I retire from football.”

“But you won’t just do nothing, will you?”

“No. I run a few charities, so I’ll oversee those. Maybe get into coaching. There are a few other options I’m exploring. Haven’t really decided yet what I want to do. It depends on how long I play.”

She stared at him, didn’t say anything.

“What?” he asked.

“You’re just a little too good to be true. You’re educated, wealthy, you don’t piss away your money on drugs or partying. You give to charity, and you’re actually planning for the future. Don’t you have any skeletons in your closet, Mick? Isn’t there a bad boy lurking in there, something that makes you less than perfect?”

If only she knew. “No one’s perfect, Tara. Not even me.”

She sighed. “I don’t know. You sure seem that way.”

“Would it make you happy if I was bad?”

She frowned. “No, not at all. I’m just afraid I can’t even begin to live up to ...”

“To what?”

She shook her head. “Nothing. Never mind. I’m being ridiculous.” She leaned up and pressed a kiss to his lips. “This has been a wonderful night, and I’m giddy and exhausted. But not so exhausted that I can’t show you how utterly happy I am to be in your company. Now come help me out of this expensive jewelry and sinfully expensive dress. It’s time for Cinderella to turn back into a pumpkin.”

He laughed and let her lead him into the bedroom. He helped her remove the jewelry, unzipped her dress, held his breath when she stepped out of it, revealing the sexy-as-hell strapless bra and matching barely-there panties she wore with those stiletto heels.

“I like the pumpkin more than Cinderella. Can you keep that outfit on? With the shoes?”

She laughed, untied his bow tie, pushed his jacket off his shoulders, and then took her damn sweet time undoing the buttons on his shirt.

“Seems it wasn’t that long ago we were getting you out of a tux.”

“Our first night together,” he said, remembering it as clearly as if it were yesterday.

She lifted her gaze to him while she jerked his shirt out of his pants. “Yes. I loved watching you undress. Tonight I’m going to undress you.”

He shuddered when she reached for the clasp at his pants, damn near lost it when her knuckles brushed against his zipper. His cock strained against the fabric of his slacks, hard and throbbing and ready for her touch. She drew his pants down, then his boxer briefs. He kicked his shoes off, and she knelt to remove his socks, leaving him naked and standing in front of her.

Tara sat on her heels, staring up at his cock. “Sit on that chair, Mick.”

He’d stand on his head if she’d continue to look at him like that. He moved to the chair and sat, spreading his legs as she moved between them to kneel. He shuddered when her breasts brushed against his thighs, then his stomach, as she leaned forward to kiss him.

He cupped her face between his hands and kissed her with a hunger he hadn’t known he possessed. Though he tried not to care, he felt something for Tara, and it was getting harder and harder to pretend that what was between them was something casual. And when she kissed him with a soft moan and a need that matched his own, his cock lurched against the softness of her belly, and all he could think of was being inside her, of how safe he felt, how right it felt, and he suddenly wanted her to know everything about him.

Whoa. Time to slow the hell down. He took a deep breath and concentrated on the physical, on the way her flavor burst in his mouth whenever she kissed him, on how damn difficult it was going to be to hold off and let her play this game of seduction.

She pulled her mouth from his and dragged her lips over his jaw, his neck, her fingers playing with his nipples. He drew in a breath, realizing how much he liked her hands on him. She kissed his nipples, licked them. He liked seeing her mouth on him, liked watching her flatten her tongue across his chest and snake it down across his abs, knowing what she was doing, anticipating every movement. He shuddered as she slid lower across his stomach, resting her face on his thigh as she looked at his cock, then back at him.

She smiled up at him before grabbing his cock with both hands. He hissed out a breath. His patience was hanging on by a thread. It cost him to let her do this when all he wanted was to throw her down on the carpet and sink inside her. But this was her game, and he was going to let her play it her way.

“I like you touching me, Tara.”

She licked her lips and rose up between his legs. He leaned over her to undo the clasp of her bra, letting it fall so he could see her breasts, the rosy tips hard as she stroked his shaft, rolling it hand over hand. She seemed to be mesmerized by it as she played with it, taking her time, squeezing it hard, then lightening her touch.

He could watch her touch his cock for hours, the heat and softness of her hand nothing at all like when he jacked himself off. There was a finesse to her movements unlike his hurry-up-and-get-it-over-with it style. She was all grace and softness, and when she put her mouth over the head of his cock and swirled her tongue over it like a goddamned ice cream cone, he almost lost it, almost shot his come into her mouth right then as if he were a fifteen-year-old boy with no control.

She licked the length of him, her little pink tongue riding his shaft like she couldn’t get enough of him.

“Jesus Christ, Tara, that’s so fucking good.” He reached for her hair, started pulling all those careful pins out of it, needed it loose so he could tangle his fingers in it. And when it was finally free, he fisted her hair in his hand and gave it a tug. Her gaze snapped to his, and she smiled, then took his cock deep, seeming to know exactly what he needed.

She let him thrust his cock deep in her mouth, let him fuck his shaft between her sweet lips hard and fast until he was panting, until he could feel his balls tighten up.

“Yeah. Suck my cock hard.”

She took him deep, swallowing his cock head, squeezing him, making the sweat roll down between his shoulder blades. Tension pulled at his spine, and he fought the urge to let go, wanted to savor her sweet lips on him for a few minutes longer. She was a goddess with a perfect mouth and doing things to him that made him grit his teeth and dig his heels into the carpet. He could hold on a little longer.

She swept her thumb over that place between his balls and his ass, and oh fuck, that felt good, to be teased there while she sucked him. He craved more. She was like a drug. He shoved his cock deep and he knew this ride was going to be over soon, because he wanted to come in her mouth so damn badly he could already imagine what it would be like to feel it spurt on her tongue, to feel her draining him until there was nothing left.

“I’m going to come in your mouth, Tara, so if you don’t want me to, you’d better tell me now.”

But she only hummed around his shaft and tickled his asshole with her fingers, and goddamn if that didn’t make him shoot right then and there, hard and fast and all the way down her sweet throat. He came with a loud shout, his ass bucking up off the chair, his orgasm coming from somewhere deep inside him. He felt light-headed, climaxing from his spine, his brain, from every part of him, leaving him shaking and sweaty and utterly spent.

He fell back against the chair, and Tara went with him, her mouth still on him, licking every last drop of what he gave her until she finally let go of his cock and laid her head on his thigh.

It took Mick a minute or so before he felt coherent again. He pulled Tara onto his lap, and she looked so fucking sexy wearing only her panties and those shoes. He kissed her deeply, tasting himself on her tongue, amazed by what she’d done for him.

She pulled away, licked her lips, and smiled at him. “You tasted good.”

He shuddered. “Christ, you damn near gave me a stroke.”

She giggled. “Good.”

“I’ll give you good.” He lifted her and put her on her feet, then pulled her panties off, leaving those shoes on that drove him half crazy. Then he sat her in the chair and spread her legs. “Your turn.”

He kissed her first, wanted to taste her mouth, lick her lips, slide his tongue in her mouth and suck on her tongue. It made his cock come to life again, even though she’d taken everything he had.

He kissed her neck, and she shuddered. He knew her neck was sensitive, and he gave it extra attention, dragging his tongue over the side of her throat before sliding down between her breasts, then licking her nipples, sucking each hard berry until she arched her back to feed them to him. He cupped her breasts in his hands and rolled the buds between his teeth, tugged on them, heard her ragged cry and drank it in because it made his dick hard.

He swept his hands over her belly, kissed it, then shouldered her legs apart, moved his hands down her sweet legs and lifted them, kissing her feet.

“Those are some rockin’-hot shoes, Miss Lincoln.”

She laughed. “I might wear them every day if I get this kind of reaction.”

“Feel free to dig those spikes into my back if you like what I do to you.”

She leveled her pretty brown eyes on him and swallowed when he draped her legs over his shoulders. He moved between her legs, inhaling the scent of her sex. She was so wet, so sweet and enticing, it made him go rock hard.

He swept his tongue over her pussy lips. She whimpered and laid her hand over his head as he licked the length of her, put his mouth on her clit and sucked.

“Oh, damn, Mick. Yes. Lick me right there.”

She made his dick pound when she talked to him, when she told him what she liked, when she lifted her ass and rocked her pussy against his face. He liked her turned on and out of control like she was now, moaning and talking to him, her pussy so wet his tongue slid easily all over her. And when he sucked on her clit and slid two fingers inside her, she lifted her butt off the chair and came, hard, crying out and yanking on his hair, bucking against his face like she was in the rodeo and he was the bronco she rode to the grand prize.

He didn’t even wait for her to come down off the waves of her orgasm. He grabbed a condom, sheathed his cock, and shoved inside her still-spasming pussy with one hard thrust. She let out a loud moan, scored his arms with her nails, and rocked against him.

“Yes!” she cried. “Fuck me.”

He drove into her, pulling her hips down so he could piston his cock deep inside her. He wanted Tara to come again. He dropped on top of her, her breasts against his chest, so he could roll against her clit.

“Mick, that’s so good.” She grabbed his head and kissed him, hard, her teeth mashing to his, her tongue sliding against his. She whimpered, her eyes filled with unshed tears. This is how he wanted her, because this is what he felt, his heart mixing with his body as he rode this incredible wave with this amazing woman.

He held back, his balls tightening as her pussy squeezed him in a tight vise. Her eyes widened.

“I’m going to come, Mick. Come with me. Come in me.”

He held tight to her as the ragged edges of control tore away. “I’m coming with you. Give it to me.”

She held his gaze as she went out of control and he let go, shouting out as his orgasm roared through him. He dug his fingers into her flesh, pulled her tight against him, and buried his face in her neck, licking her as she screamed her orgasm this time, rocking against him and crying out his name.

It took a while for the calm after the raging storm, as he held her and stroked her and felt her wild heartbeat pulse against his chest.

He picked her up and took them both into the shower, Tara laughing that it would take an hour to wash all the makeup off, then both of them laughing as one of her false eyelashes ended up on her cheek. Once they cleaned up, they dried off and climbed into bed. Tara was asleep in minutes, her head on Mick’s shoulder.

He held her like that for a while, content and just a little bit worried about what all this meant.

And hell, wasn’t it the woman who was supposed to be all concerned about what the whole “relationship” thing meant, anyway? They had fun together. God knew the sex together was great. Maybe he should just stop thinking about it and enjoy the ride. It was too soon to start thinking about the important things, anyway.