Page 8 of True Stars Collide

Fucking hell. They’d not even been here two hours and already one of the most aggressive reporters of all time loomed over their table.

A reporter who he’d made the grave mistake of hooking up with a few years back. Once Marissa Miles had realized he wasn’t planning on ever repeating their night together, she’d been on his ass. Her coverage of the band’s demise had been brutal.

He glanced up. “Marissa. News travels fast.”

“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?” The platinum blonde’s eyes narrowed, and her over-filled lips curved into a fake smile.

Zoe quirked an ebony brow and sipped her cocktail.

“Zoe love, meet Marissa. She’s an entertainment reporter.” He caught Zoe’s hand and intertwined his fingers with hers.

Marissa studied them for a moment. “Zoe Hastings, formerly of the Baby Dolls?”

Zoe gestured toward the woman with her enormous glass. “That’s me.”

He drew their linked hands to his mouth and pressed a kiss on Zoe’s knuckles.

Marissa’s nostrils flared and her gaze locked on the colorful full sleeve adorning Zoe’s right arm. “Talk about opposites attract but you certainly look different these days. No more girl groups for you?”

Zoe leaned against him, nuzzled her nose along his jaw, and without looking at Marissa said, “No. But if you’ll excuse us, we’d like to finish our meal.”

Without waiting for a response, Zoe slid one hand up to his jaw, tilting his face down to meet hers. She pressed her parted lips against his with a throaty moan. He went rock hard instantly.

Heat flared through him, and he slanted his mouth against hers, deepening the kiss. She tasted like maple syrup and strawberries and something darker. Without breaking the kiss, he shifted her onto his lap, and slid his hands into her dark silky hair. She wound her arms around his neck and wiggled in his lap, the curves of her perfect ass digging into his erection.

Zoe fit against him like she was made for him. The world faded away, leaving only Zoe’s honeyed response. When he lifted his head and looked around, it felt like he was in a trance. Marissa was gone.

Their waitress approached but stopped a few feet away from the table. “Umm, excuse me? Can I bring you two anything else?”

Zoe’s unusual caramel-colored eyes opened slowly, and she ran her tongue around her cupid’s bow upper lip. “Not for me, thank you.”

“Just the check, please.” He met Zoe’s unfocused gaze––yeah, they had some chemistry, that was for sure. “Nice job.”

She blinked a few times, looked around, then hopped back to her seat. “Yeah, she’s a piece of work, isn’t she?”

“That’s one way to put it. We’ll be on the evening shows for sure, and that’s before we ratchet it up.” A golden opportunity because Marissa would spread the word about the two of them far and wide, which was exactly what they needed. But he dreaded seeing her again––the woman had basically stalked him for years now. Woman scorned and all that.

Zoe whipped out a tube of lipstick and slicked on bright red color. Damn, her mouth was tempting. A total contrast to the trout pout women seemed to think looked good these days. No, Zoe had a mouth like a 1920s silent film star. Kissing her wouldn’t be a hardship, except now he knew how she tasted and wanted more.

Did their fake marriage include sex? He hadn’t seen anything about it in the multi-page agreement they’d signed. Because now this sham seemed a bit more interesting.

“You’re staring.” She blotted her lips on a paper napkin and tossed it to him. “Here’s a souvenir.”

He burst out laughing. Ms. Pop Princess wasn’t such a little prude after all. He pressed it to his chest. “I’ll treasure it always, love.”

She rolled her eyes and giggled. “I’m sure. I’m in the mood for tequila. Let’s hit Ghost Donkey over at the Cosmopolitan and do some flights. We’re supposed to get in trouble today, right?”

“Abso-fuckin-lutely. It’s a fifteen minute walk, you up for it in those shoes?” Those 4-inch fuck-me heels.

“Of course. I could hike the Grand Canyon in heels. I reached my full height in eighth grade, so I’m a pro. Plus some fresh air will balance out this recycled stuff.”

“It’s 100 degrees in the shade.” Fucking uncivilized but he preferred to walk too.

She rose and shook back her mane. “I grew up in the South where it was unbearably hot and humid. It’s only a mile. Let’s go, baby.”

“Let’s make it a memorable walk for anyone who sees us––it’s work, right?” He slid his arm around her waist and tugged her tight against his side.

Her lips tightened for a moment before her face relaxed. “Sure. We need those photos to make tonight more believable.

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