“Fuck, baby,” he growled. His palm solid on the small of my back.
This I liked. I had more leverage even with my hands tied together. I matched his thrusts. I widened my legs. And when his hands circled my waist, grazing over my clit I was lost.
I screamed as the orgasm took me, crashing over my glistening heated skin. Sinking into my pores, coursing through my veins with power.
Scott held my hips, thrusting into me. He pulled my legs out from under me as he collapsed against my back. He rooted himself in my heat as he kissed my neck.
“I love you.”
I nodded, trying to find words. “I love you too.”
His climax came and he groaned, pushing himself to new depths.
I’d never felt love like that. Heat. Passion. I was his. And I had no idea how I was going to make it the next few months without him.
* * *
The ranch was enormous, empty, and quiet without Scott. I tucked my feet under my legs and tried to think of another line for the lyrics that were staring at me from my notepad. I was supposed to meet Reagan in the morning with the bones of a new song. So far the page was mostly blank.
Lenny had brought me a glass of wine and even started kindling in the massive fireplace. Nothing cheered me up. Nothing could warm me now that Scott was on his jet to L.A. Nothing.
“Can I get you something else?” Lenny hovered nearby.
“No, thank you. I’m fine. Really.” I said it, but even I wasn’t convinced. Why did it feel like breathing hurt?
“Ok. I’ll be in the back if you need me or Nan. Anything at all. We’re just a few steps that way. Ten steps, twenty at the most.”
“Thanks, Lenny.” I offered a soft smile, knowing I wasn’t fooling anyone.
This wasn’t like when I was at Paul’s house recovering from the worst heartbreak of my life. This was different. My entire body ached without him nearby. The dark wine tingled the back of my throat.
All afternoon I had wandered the ranch walls in circles. Nan probably thought I had gone crazy the way I stared at Scott’s pictures on the wall, or ran my hands over the mahogany finish on the desk. There were traces of him everywhere, but none of them brought him back. It was a miserable first day alone.
The instant my phone buzzed, I smiled. I snatched it off the coffee table, ready to talk to Scott. But Reagan’s name was on the screen instead.
“Hello?”
“Hey, girl. What are you doing?”
I wasn’t about to launch into a sad missing-my-boyfriend story. “Trying to write. What about you?”
“Did Scott leave today?”
“Yes, he left this morning.”
“Then, let’s go out. I need to take you to my favorite spot.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” I doodled a swirl on the notepad. It was the most decorative thing on the blank page.
“Come on, you can’t stay cooped up in that huge house by yourself. Scott would want you to go out and have fun, right?”
“I guess so.” I had to admit staying in the house only reminded me of him. How he wasn’t here, and why he wouldn’t be coming home tonight.
“Guess so? He is Mr. Fun. Girl, can you get one of the drivers to take you downtown, or should I send mine?”
It was the first time I would be asking the staff to treat me like they did Scott, but I was carless. It was the only option.
“I can meet you. Someone will drive me.”
“Ok. I’ll text you the address. Wear something cute.”
“I can’t stay out too late though. We have our meeting in the morning.” As soon as I said it, I realized how incredibly lame I must seem to Reagan.
Reagan giggled. “Hopefully, we’ll have such a great night that we’ll have something to write about. See you in an hour.”
“Bye. Thanks.” I hung up the phone and rushed up the stairs. I had about fifteen minutes to find something cool to wear out with my favorite singer. No pressure.
An hour later, Bud dropped me off in front of a nightclub I had never heard of.
“I’m going to park in that lot over there.” He pointed diagonally from where we were standing. “You’ve got my number, so text about five minutes before you leave and I’ll meet you right here.”
“Ok. No problem. Thanks, Bud.” I straightened my shoulders before entering the dark bar. I hoped there were enough lights to spot Reagan.
“Avery, over here!” Reagan shrieked from a nearby table.
“Wow, you look amazing.” I couldn’t help staring. Reagan was wearing a shirt cropped just below her bust, paired with a mini-denim skirt. If Reagan wanted to show off her rockin’ body, she was doing it.
Suddenly, my jeans and tank top seemed outdated and not nearly as edgy. I wished I had a stash of clothes in the trunk to change into.
“You like margaritas? Or how about vodka? We could get some lemon drops. Yeah, let’s get lemon drops.”
“Ok, whatever you want.” I slid into the open booth seat and checked out the club. It was dim, but my eyes were starting to adjust. It looked like an act was setting up on the stage.
A waitress arrived with a tray carrying four shot glasses. She placed them on the table in front of us.
Reagan handed me the first one. “Ok, to our first night out in Austin.” She smiled before slinging the drink back.
I followed her lead.
The drink was both sweet and sour. It made my mouth want to pucker.
“Have you heard from Scott yet?” Reagan asked before handing over the second shot glass.
“He texted me when he landed and he said he’d call tonight from the hotel.”
“I still can’t believe he’s going to be in Love & Bondage. You have to be freaking out.”
“What do you mean?” I licked my lips. The second shot went down smoother than the first.
“If my man was getting ready to be seen by the entire world doing all of that stuff with Emmy Harper, I would probably have a heart attack. But you seem really chill about it. You two must be on solid ground.”
“We are.” We had talked about the role. We had talked about Emmy. But the way Reagan made it sound, I wasn’t sure we had talked about it enough. What exactly would Scott be doing on the set? Surely, they would always have some clothes on. Actors weren’t really naked for those scenes, were they?
“Good. Because he’s going to be a busy man the next three months. And I need your musical brilliance focused right here.” Reagan waved her hand in the air for the waitress. “Want another?”
I could already feel the vodka numbing my limbs, but it was welcome after the torture I had felt all day. I nodded. “Yeah, I’ll take another.”
After the next round of shots, Reagan jumped from the booth. “Come on. Let’s dance. I love this band.”
I skipped behind her, letting the crowd close in around us while we swayed our hands in the air, and wiggled our hips to the music.
I felt a hand glide around my waist and for a second, I forgot I wasn’t out with Scott. I whipped around to see a brown-haired college boy raking me over. I sidestepped his next dance move and pulled Reagan with me farther into the mob.
“Isn’t this awesome?” Reagan yelled over the music.
“Yes.” I nodded and got lost in the music again. I let my body take over as the beat consumed the club.
Two hours later, arm in arm, we walked out the front door. As soon as the flashes started going off, I realized I had forgotten to text Bud that I was leaving.
“Shit.”
“What’s wrong?” Reagan asked, smiling and waving at the photographers outside the club. She seemed at ease in front of the reporters. I tried to quell the panic that was bubbling and stood behind her.
“I forgot to text Bud.” I searched for my phone. There were five missed calls from Scott. “Double shit.”
Reagan’s driver ushered us into her car before another picture could be snapped. “Just wait it out in here with me until Bud can drive over,” Reagan offered
. “He’s used to all of this mess with Scott. He’s the best.”
“You know Bud?” I questioned. Reagan kept dropping overly familiar hints about Scott’s life. How close were they?
“Of course I do. Scott never goes anywhere here without him. Go ahead call him. He’ll know what to do.”
“Ok.” But I already felt a sour pit in my stomach. I wasn’t sure if it was too many lemon drops, or screwing up the protocol for my first night out. Or maybe it was because more than anything, I wished I was back at the ranch talking to Scott.
Bud pulled up within minutes. The two drivers exchanged ideas on how to transfer me from Reagan’s limo to Bud’s car. They simultaneously opened the back doors, creating a shield. I hunched low as they shuttled me into the empty back seat.
“See you in the morning,” Reagan called.
Both doors were shut and the cars took off.
I gripped the phone in my hand with the quietness around me. I waited for the city lights to be behind us. It seemed more private that way. I was about to call Scott when I felt the lurch in my stomach.
“Bud, can you pull over?” I eked just in time.
The car stopped. I threw open the door and hovered near a bush, hoping Bud couldn’t see the embarrassing mess I was making.
“You ok?” he asked, not stepping too close.
When I thought my stomach was empty, I walked back to the open door. “I’m fine. I just want to go home.”
“Sure thing.”
Mortified that I had just thrown up on the side of a Texas highway in front of Scott’s head of security, I slumped down in the seat and closed my eyes. I was anxious for the coolness of Scott’s bed.
* * *
The damn crickets wouldn’t stop chirping. I slammed the phone with my palm, not caring if the impact cracked the screen or not.
When I heard the ringing a few seconds later, I jerked the phone off the charger.
“Hello?”
“Darlin’, I tried calling you all night. You ok?” Scott sounded panicked. There wasn’t a trace of his easygoing drawl.
“Yeah. Yes. What time is it?” I rubbed my head where a piercing sensation had taken over.
“Early. I’m getting ready to start read throughs for the day, but you had me worried. Where were you? I was going to call out the Texas Rangers to look for you.”
I sat upright, squinting at the sun filtering through the windows. “I went out with Reagan and I didn’t hear my phone ring. It was so late when I got home, I didn’t think I should call. Sorry.”
“Reagan, huh?”
I could hear background noise on the call, but wasn’t sure what the sounds were.
“Yeah, we had a good time.”
“I bet. She can party. Hold on.” He covered the phone and mumbled something. “Ok, I’m back, but I won’t be able to talk the rest of the day. The schedule they have us on is crazy. They want to start shooting by the end of the week and that only gives us a few days to get the script down. I was the last one to show up on the set, so I’m behind.”
“Oh.” I wasn’t alert enough to say anything encouraging.
“You sure you’re ok?”
“Yes, I’m fine. I’m going to take a shower and see if Lenny has any coffee for me.”
“All right. All right. Gotta go, baby. I’ll call you tonight.”
“Good luck or break a leg, or what am I supposed to say?” I didn’t know if the stage was the same as the screen.
“You’ve got it. Bye.”
Scott hung up, and I wished I had been more awake to talk to him. I glanced at the empty covers beside me, and rolled over to burrow back down in the bed.
Nine
Scott
I shoved the phone in my back pocket. I didn’t want to walk into rehearsals. Avery didn’t sound like herself. But I didn’t have a choice. They had called me in three times already. A night out with Reagan was probably something she needed. I had left her alone on the ranch, and she hadn’t been in town long enough to make friends. I tried not to think about what Reagan’s nights out were like. More than one morning I had woken up to find her on my couch with a vicious hangover and a handful of crazy stories.
The first time I met Reagan, she was performing at an open mic night at one of Austin’s dive bars. She was cute, spunky, and damn the woman could sing. After I bought her a beer, it didn’t take long to realize she was more like the little sister I never had. But I didn’t know many little sisters who could party like Reagan. It was rare to meet a woman who was happy with buddy status. My celebrity didn’t seem to matter. She had her sights set on singing, not relationships.
The bar was getting ready to close and Reagan slammed her beer on the table. “Come on. I know a place that stays open all night.” She winked at me.
“Hold on, darlin’. Don’t you think it’s past your bedtime?” I glanced at my watch.
“Bed? You are old!” She giggled and hopped off her barstool.
“I am not old. Just lookin’ out for you.” She was already headed for the door.
“Then prove it,” she taunted.
I hesitated. It was 2 a.m. “One more drink?”
“Whatever.” Reagan grabbed me by the hand and led me from the bar. “You can always crash at my place. No big deal.”
I shook my head. This woman was crazy, but I let her lead me from one hole-in-the-wall bar to another. This was another side of Austin’s nightlife I had never experienced. By six, I was sprawled across Reagan’s couch, facedown on a pillow with my boots kicked under the coffee table.
I vowed one night on the town with her would be the last, but it never seemed to work out that way.
I laughed, hoping Avery’s experience wasn’t like mine.
I strolled into the reading room.
“You ready this morning?” Emmy chirped. She was sitting at one of the reading tables holding a cup of coffee for me.
“I was born ready.” I took the coffee and flipped open the first page of the script.
“I think it’s going to be a long day.” Em slid her seat closer to my chair. “How’s the coffee? Did I get it right?”
I eyed her suspiciously. I had to remind myself what I signed on for. This wasn’t just the biggest movie of my career. It also came with baggage. And that baggage was in the form of a curvy, bright-eyed blonde.
“Yeah, it’s good.” I pushed it away from my pages. I had hoped one of the set assistants had delivered it.
“I haven’t forgotten about when we were on that little island, and you remembered how I liked my coffee. I guess, when you wake up with someone, you’re bound to keep those details in your heart.”
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat.
“Let’s get started this morning.” One of the producers closed the door behind her and smiled at the small group gathered to hear us read. “We’re going to get as far as we can then break for lunch around one.” She smiled at Em. “Emmy you’re getting us started. We’ll skip to the third scene where Jared and Evangeline are about to go to bed. You know the scene?”
“Oh yes, I know the one.” She grinned.
She exhaled, turned toward me, and ran her hand along my jaw.
I looked at her quizzically. “What are you doing? This is only a read through.”
“I already know all the lines,” she whispered. “I thought I’d start with our connection. It is the most important part of the film.”
I withheld an eye roll, but God help me, I was already on edge about Em.
“Quiet please,” the producer called. She hushed the crowd around us, already buzzing about the intimacy of the gesture.
Someone dimmed the lights and Emmy began her lines.
* * *
The lunch break started closer to two. I rushed out of the room before Emmy had a chance to corner me into splitting a turkey sandwich. Well, knowing her, it was likely to be half a salad.
I reached for my phone. Ryan had called, and there were texts from Avery. Damn it, she was
in the recording studio with Reagan until eight tonight. I ran my hands through my hair. Day one and we were already on opposite schedules.
I had to get her out here. There was no way I was going to make it three months without being with her.
I pushed open the exit door and inhaled the California air. At least I had an hour before I had to get back to the script reading. I was going to make the most of a beautiful day.
It had been awhile since I had been at the studios. The last movie I made was Wanted, and that had turned into a media circus. But I liked that we shot on location in New Orleans. Authentic locations were my favorite part of the movie process. I was able to sink into the role, feel the city, and breathe the same air as my character. It added to my transformation in a way that studio films just couldn’t. Love & Bondage could be filmed anywhere. The sets consisted of fancy penthouse apartments, offices, and a few out-on-the-town shots. There was nothing unusual about the setting, other than it had taken me back to Tinsel Town.
The movie executives had decided to keep the filming location a secret. The buzz around the movie was so intense that they were worried the cast would be mobbed anywhere else. A studio locale kept everyone under the watchful eye of the movie company.
I called Ryan to touch base, checked my email, and sent Avery a few texts to let her know my schedule for the rest of the day. I hoped things were going well with Reagan. I picked up a sandwich from one of the stands at the studio entrance and inhaled it before heading back inside. I needed to call Tom, my trainer, and fly him out for some workouts. If the scenes I had read were any indication of what was ahead of me, I only had a few weeks to get in bedroom shape.
I knew there had never been any complaints and my football physique was still intact. But there was something different about getting ready to be seen almost completely naked by millions of people. I would have to watch my diet, cut back on the beer, and start running every morning. Tom could help with the rest.
The Hottest Deal Page 7
