Untouchable ~ A Jared Leto/MARS Fanfiction

Chapter Seventeen

"So, Magda texted me a little while ago," Jared informs me. "He was at LAX picking up Flora. She must be super anxious to meet you, because she wanted to come straight here from the airport. But I told Magda it's late and it's been a rough day for both of us. So she'll be coming by sometime late tomorrow morning. That okay with you?"

Why's Jared asking if it's okay with me? Magda's his estate manager, and Flora is his interior designer. "Sure," I agree. I pause my hands and apply more warmed massage oil to them. "It'll be nice meeting someone from back home."

"Yeah." The word comes out as a groan as I begin working again on Jared's lower lumbar area. "Goddamn, this feels good, Lanie. Your hands are like magic. An almost instant panacea."

I only wish my hands could reach in and soothe away what drove Jared into the state he was in most of the day. But that other guy is gone now. Tonight, the real Jared is back.

When I'm finished, I towel him off and remove the other towels under him. The nightly massage is one thing. Does he want me to cuddle and hold him now as I usually do? What if I do and he doesn't want it? Uncertainty fills me as I wash my hands and return to the bedroom.

Best to play it safe. I get in on my side and lay there, but Jared stares over at me, shaking his head.

"What the fuck? Oh, no you don't," he admonishes. "Come here."

After a moment of hesitation, I slide across the bed to him and he enfolds me in the embrace I now find so familiar and easy to melt into. "I know you're still pissed at me, and I don't blame you at all. I've been an absolute prick today," he murmurs in my hair.

"You'll get no argument from me," I agree. To my immense irritation, I find that I'm quickly thawing. Too quickly, damn him.

"For the record, I caught Carmen as she was leaving for the day and I apologized all over myself. Told her both she and Ana are getting a twenty-five percent raise, too."

"You did?" I look up at him, and his wide smile melts something in me, warming my flesh, softening my bones, and causing my heartbeat to quicken. Yep, I've more than thawed. I'm utter mush. Damn him!

"Uh-huh. My behavior was reprehensible toward her and toward you, and I'm sorry, Lanie. More sorry than you can imagine." He kisses the top of my head and gives me a little squeeze. "What did you call it? My spoiled princess act?"

"Yeah," I say. "But it's not like I wasn't warned, right?"

Jared laughs softly. "Yeah. You were. Straightening out my attitude when I act like an asshole is a primary function of your job, and you performed it very well. So thank you."

"You're welcome."

We lay together in companionable silence for a time, a silence during which I admit to myself that when Jared strips away the celebrity attitude, I don't stand a chance. He's gotten under my skin. Way, way under.

I just wish I could understand what goes on in his mind. Why, for instance, he insists on this every night; holding each other, caressing each other, and on those two occasions, giving me a glimpse of the passion he insists on keeping firmly in check.

Without question, Jared's crossed every line imaginable, crossed them time and again with dozens, if not hundreds, of other women. From actresses and models to groupies and teenage fan girls. Fourteen years ago he gave me a note, an invitation proving that selectivity isn't his strong suit. So why the boundaries with me now?

Jared's always been the one to test those boundaries. What if I do it for a change? Do I dare? Can I handle the rejection that's sure to follow? Sure I can, because I fully expect it.