Page 2 of Chasing Christmas

"Um, hi." Laura lifts one hand in a self-conscious wave. Not that she has anything to be self-conscious about. Jesus, she's the brightest little star in this town.

"I'm looking for Kaiden Huxley. Jackson Reed said I could find him here."

"You found him."

She blinks long, sooty lashes, briefly hiding her eyes. I want to gnash my teeth as soon as her gaze leaves me for that split second. The feeling isn't rational, but it's there all the same. There's something pure in her eyes, something untouched. That's rare in this town.

It's a tale as old as time. Bring an innocent girl to this town, and it'll chew them up and spit them out in short order. Not this one. Even after a decade, she's still fresh-faced and innocent, still filled with a sense of wonder. She's an anomaly, the rare woman who never hardens or grows jaded or bitter no matter what this town throws at her. And it's thrown a lot of shit her way, thanks to those generous curves.

"I'm Laura Groves," she says.

"I know who you are." How could I not? She's been a fixture in the film industry since she was sixteen. Her beautiful face has graced the cover of every magazine and gossip rag from here to India. She's been one of Hollywood'sItgirls since right after my accident…and yet she clings to innocence and grace as if it's an ingrained part of her. No matter what they throw at her, she meets it on her feet with her head held high and a smile on her face.

"Oh." A question bobbles on her lips before she fights it back.

I desperately want to demand she ask it. I want to know what she's thinking. But I resist the urge. The less I know about this girl, the better. Pretty little stars like her aren't for washed-up has-beens like me. Maybe in another life, I would have asked that question. I would have listened to the voice screaming for me not to let this one out of my sight.

In another life, I might have been someone worthy of listening to that voice.

That was a long time ago.

Once upon a time, I was the most sought-after stuntman in Hollywood. I was fearless, capable of pulling off stunt sequences others wouldn't even dream of attempting. An on-set accident several years ago changed all of that. Save for the people who were there that day, no one knows what happened. In a town where gossip reigns supreme, rumors fly hot and fast, but not even a whisper of the truth has slipped past loose lips. All anyone knows for sure is that I was gravely injured.

No one knows that the lead actor lost his mind when he discovered the director was trying to fuck his seventeen-year-old baby sister. He drove his truck through the director's trailer. And I was the unlucky bastard in said trailer at the time.

I spent months in the hospital being carefully stitched back together. The first two years were an endless parade of surgeries, skin grafts, and rehab. It felt like living my childhood all over again…sidelined by something I didn't choose. Back then, it was a heart condition.

This time was worse.

By the time they finally cleared me to resume my everyday life, my career was long over. The things I once did with ease were no longer possible. The life I'd built for myself was just fucking gone. People who once worked side by side with me couldn't stomach looking at me. The whispers and jokes were endless.

Jackson Reed, my business partner, took on the brunt of the work. I faded into the background, training stunt doubles to do what I used to do. Every once in a while, an actor will seek me out, wanting to learn what I know, but those instances are few and far between. Most don't want to risk their pretty faces when those pretty faces make them millions.

I can count on one hand the number of times a woman like Laura Groves came looking for me. Those who did took one look at me and never returned. In a city where physical beauty is the golden standard, I'm a walking, talking reminder that the clock runs out on everyone eventually.

"Why are you here, Laura?"

"I need you," she blurts.

A menacing growl erupts from my lips before I can call it back. Fuck, I want to hear her say that while she's spread eagle on my bed and her first orgasm still coats my tongue.

"Say that again," I demand, even though I know she doesn't mean it.

"Um, I need you?"

I step toward her, compelled by the throb in my cock from my hiding place. Yes, I'll give her what she needs. I'll fuck her right and proper, let her make a mess of my back with those pretty nails. Whatever she needs.

She isn't short, yet I tower over her, dwarfing her. Christ, my sheer size eclipses her like the moon swallowing the sun. She doesn't shrink from me, though. There's strength in this innocent little starlet, courage that goes bone deep.

"What does a girl like you need with a man like me, princess?"

"Your scar," she gasps, her green eyes filling with distress.

I flinch, taking a step back as her reaction cools the fire running through my veins. "Doubt that's what you need from me."

She shakes her head, her cheeks turning pink. "I'm sorry. That's not what I meant. I didn't realize…." She trails off into awkward silence. I can practically see her fighting the urge to squirm from foot to foot in her thousand-dollar heels. "I'm so sorry. I promise I'm not usually so rude. You just caught me off guard."

"I'm used to it," I rasp. "Most of you react the same way when you first see me." I rake my gaze over her, hot and predatory. She's so fucking pretty. Does she know how badly I want to put my filthy hands all over her? "Your world is glitz and glamour, not scarred old relics."