Dead by Midnight - Beverly Barton [58]
“Mr. Dillard said there was one fan in particular who was obsessed with this movie,” Derek said. “He believes the guy’s last name is Hines.”
“Duane Hines,” Etta stated emphatically. “He wrote a letter to everyone in the movie. He’d written to Hilary before then, and wrote to several of the stars later about other movies they were in. The guy’s a real nut. We had to have him arrested once when he attacked one of our guards who had escorted him off the set.”
“When is the last time Duane Hines contacted anyone involved in Midnight Masquerade?” Maleah asked.
“He’s a persistent cuss, I’ll give him that.” Etta grunted. “He sent Hilary another letter sometime last fall. And come to think of it, he sent one to another of the actors from Masquerade at the same time. The bosomy redhead.” Etta rubbed her chin. “Nice girl. Not cut out for our business. She used the name Cherry Sweets.” Etta chuckled as she glanced at Travis. “She was one you never did nail, wasn’t she?”
Travis snorted. “It was only a matter of time. If she’d stayed around long enough, she would have spread her legs for me.”
“Lorie Hammonds,” Etta said. “That was her real name. I wonder what ever happened to her.”
Chapter 12
The sun heated their naked skin as they played together in the river, the water refreshingly cool in contrast to the hot summer sunshine. Laughing, Lorie lifted a handful of water and threw it into Mike’s face.
“You’ll pay for that,” he warned her.
When he reached for her, she didn’t put up even a token resistance. He yanked her up against him, her breasts, covered only by two strips of cloth and a string tie, pressed into his hard, naked chest. As he cupped her butt with both hands, he lowered his head and claimed her mouth in a hungry kiss. She opened for him, took his tongue inside and closed her lips around him. He groaned deep and low, the sound rumbling from his throat.
Every cell in her body came alive, tingling, igniting with an internal fire that nothing except making love with Mike could extinguish. But only for a little while, only until he touched her again. It had been that way for both of them from the very first time he had kissed her.
With his arm around her waist, he walked her out of the shallow backwaters of the river, their bodies dripping wet as they stepped onto the shore. He slipped his hand inside her bikini bottoms and caressed her buttocks. Her femininity tightened and released. Aroused by his touch, her body instantly prepared for mating. Her nipples hardened. Moisture gathered between her thighs. Her feminine core swelled with anticipation.
Mike led her off into a secluded area in the nearby woods where earlier they had spread a blanket and eaten their picnic lunch. With sunlight dappling through the thicket of decades-old trees, he laid her down on the ratty old quilt he kept in the trunk of his prized Mustang. How many times had they made love on that quilt?
Sighing dreamily as she looked into the face of the man she adored, Lorie reached up for him and drew him down to her. He kissed her mouth, her cheeks, her neck, and the upper swell of each breast. Then he pushed aside her clinging arms and lifted her just enough to untie the bikini top and whip it off her. Totally exposed from the belly button up, she wriggled with pleasure as his hands explored every inch of her hips and butt while his mouth moved over her breasts and stomach. When he nuzzled the edge of her bikini bottoms, she lifted her hips enough for him to drag them down and off. The minute she was completely naked, he buried his face in the triangle of auburn curls between her thighs. His tongue snaked out, seeking and finding her clitoris.
He licked. She whimpered.
He stroked. She shivered.
He sucked. She cried out his name.
Alternating his moves, he used his mouth and tongue to bring her to the brink while his fingers