Only the Beginning: Only You, #4

by Thorpe, Elle

  I straightened the flowers in the vase, then kissed my fingertips and pressed them to the B on her name. One B for Bianca, one B for Brittany. That was how I’d come up with my stage name. It seemed fitting. Because she was always going to be a part of me.

  Before I walked away, I whispered, “If I win tonight, this one is for you.”

  18

  Bianca

  The black leather seats of the air-conditioned limo were smooth beneath my palms as I slid across, farther into the darkness of the interior. I was grateful that the privacy screen was up, because my dress had a thigh high split that made getting into the limo without flashing anyone a difficult task. Tangie was going to Hell for insisting I wear this dress. It showed off so much more skin that I was used to, but she’d been adamant that all eyes would be on me tonight and I had to wear something knockout. This dress definitely fit the bill.

  I could admit, though, that when my stylist had finished tugging me into it, I’d liked what I’d seen in the mirror. The material flowed with my curves and cut deep at the front, showing off pushed-up cleavage. I’d had to be taped in, and I just prayed it would all hold together. I didn’t want to be in the morning papers for a nip slip.

  Unfortunately, sweating the tape off was a real possibility. My palms were damp as I peered through the window of the limo and cruised the city streets heading for Riley’s suburb. My heart pounded at the thought of spending the night with him. I didn’t want to scare him off by introducing him to the public too soon, but the fact I was going to one of these events with someone I actually liked made the whole process seem so much more exciting. Normally, award shows were pure work. But tonight, I felt like a fairy princess who got to go to the ball with her prince charming.

  My mouth dried when the limo stopped in front of Riley’s house. He was already waiting out the front, standing in the tuxedo I’d bought for him, holding a single white rose. Shit. He was the hottest man I’d ever seen. He always had been, but he’d aged some, slight lines around his eyes now, that had never been there before. But they only made me want him more. I’d never been able to resist him, which was why I’d spent years trying to avoid him.

  He shifted his weight from foot to foot and pulled at his collar. I knew he was uncomfortable about coming tonight, which made my heart fill that little bit more. He was doing this for me. He was getting nothing out of it. He had no ulterior motive, like my usual dates did. He didn’t want to meet some director or casting agent. He didn’t want to hobnob with the rich and famous. He didn’t want an invite to the afterparty.

  He opened the door, his gaze locking with mine, punching the air from my lungs.

  He just wanted me.

  He slid across the seat, closing the door behind him. “Hey,” he said quietly, handing me the rose.

  I took it from him, marvelling at this sweet side of him I hadn’t known existed. I hadn’t expected a flower.

  “Hey, yourself,” I replied before holding the rose under my nose and inhaling its perfume.

  He watched me with a quiet gaze that was hypnotising. I couldn’t look away. No man should look that good in a tuxedo. It fit him perfectly, his broad shoulders filling the jacket. He had his hair slicked back, and his crisp white shirt complemented his deep tan. I shamelessly let my gaze travel over him, until he reached over and grasped my chin, forcing me to gaze into his eyes. They were full of amusement, but beneath that, something hotter lingered.

  “You keep staring at me like that, and we aren’t going to make it to the party.”

  If I wasn’t so busy being lost in his eyes, I would have laughed at him calling the biggest event on the Australian TV calendar ‘a party’.

  “Maybe I suddenly don’t want to go,” I whispered, inching closer to him and letting my hand rest on his thigh.

  His muscle contracted then relaxed.

  “Fine by me. We can just stay right here all night if you like. The driver can cruise the city while we…do other things back here.” His finger trailed along my bare thigh, inching higher and making me clench my legs together. My nipples tightened and I fought back a moan.

  Not needing any more encouragement, his fingers slipped beneath the fabric of my dress, heading for the apex of my thighs, and even though I knew we shouldn’t—we would be at the red carpet in less than ten minutes—I let my knees fall apart, just enough.

  His eyes flared as he leaned in, his breath misting over mine, and claimed my mouth. His kiss was hot and possessive. Branding as he pushed his tongue inside, and I welcomed him there. I loved the way he kissed. We were so in sync. It was like he could read my mind. He knew exactly what I wanted, sometimes even before I did. My bones turned to liquid when he grazed his fingertips over my bare pussy.

  He pulled his hand back with a groan of frustration.

  “What?” I asked, panting. That tiny touch had done nothing but raise my heartrate. I wanted him there, between my legs, his fingers working my most sensitive places.

  “No underwear?”

  “Not possible in a dress like this.”

  He groaned again, burying his handsome face in his hands. “How am I supposed to get through the next six hours, knowing you’re bare and wet beneath that dress?”

  I closed my eyes for a moment. Because, god, it would be so easy to blow this whole thing off and just lose myself in this man. But I couldn’t do that. We were less than a few kilometres from a crowd full of people and reporters with cameras, and it would be career suicide. BB James, caught going to third base in the back of a limo. No, that couldn’t happen. Tangie would never forgive me, and neither would the head honchos at Ocean Bay. My squeaky-clean reputation was something the network had always counted on, and my Logie nomination was top-notch publicity for the show. I owed it to them, and to the rest of the people who worked on the show, to do this thing. There would be plenty of time later, for Riley and me to be alone. So instead of pulling down his zipper and climbing on his cock, I pulled myself together.

  Riley’s disappointment as I straightened my dress was almost comical. I smirked at him. “You’re going to have to deal, buddy.” I pointed out the tinted glass window behind him. “Because we’re just about there.”

  “Better tell the driver to go around the block a few times until I get myself under control.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. But I still felt his kisses on my lips and his fingertips between my thighs. He wasn’t the only one who would be struggling to keep their hands to themselves until the next time we were alone.

  I took a deep breath, peering out the window while Riley adjusted himself. Crowds lined the street, hoping for an early glimpse of the stars, though I knew the tint on these windows was dark enough that we couldn’t be seen. I spotted a couple of posters with my name, and I smiled. Most of my fans were older ladies who loved their soaps, but there were a lot of hot, young guys on the show who often got around in nothing more than board shorts so we had a younger following as well. Even if the fans did mostly scream for the boys, they liked me okay, too. And I was happy to play second fiddle.

  Riley let out a low wolf-whistle. “This is all a big deal, huh?”

  I nodded.

  “Sadie is watching.”

  Whoa. “She is? So you…”

  “Told her about us? Sort of. I told her I was your date for the night. She wants to know if you can hook her up with Chris Hemsworth.”

  I laughed but had a million questions swirling through my mind. He’d told his daughter about us? What did that mean? I had no idea what the two of us even were to each other. I tried to form the questions, but they wouldn’t leave my lips. Instead, I went with the safe route. “I hate to break it to her, but I think Chris Hemsworth is married.”

  The limo pulled to a stop, and the driver dropped the partition an inch. “You’re up, Miss James. Good luck,” my driver said cheerfully.

  “Thank you, Harrison. See you after the show.”

  He flashed me a thumbs-up, then raised the privacy screen
again.

  I found Riley’s hand and squeezed it. “Ready?”

  He leant in and brushed his lips over mine, the kiss soft, sweet, and lingering. All worries completely flew out of my head. Now wasn’t the time.

  He took a deep breath. “Now I am.”

  Someone opened the door, and Riley got out. From behind barricades, the mass of fans cheered, and Riley turned back to me, holding out his hand for me to take. I thought I heard him mumble “Holy shit!” under his breath but I couldn’t tell for sure because the crowd was loud.

  “They like you,” I said to him with a laugh, exiting the car and standing while throwing them a casual wave.

  But Riley pulled me back to the semi sense of privacy created by his back and the limo’s open door.

  “I don’t care if they like me,” he said near my ear. “I only care whether you do.”

  Thank God I was holding on to the doorframe, because I probably would have swooned. My eyes closed as his breath brushed over my neck, and I had to force them open again before I gave away to thousands of people exactly how turned on I was right now.

  “I—”

  “This way please, Miss James,” a sharply dressed man with a clipboard and an earpiece said loudly, ushering us away from the crowd towards the long strip of red carpet, lined on both sides by cameras and reporters.

  A cameraman yelled something about my tits, but I ignored him, not giving him the satisfaction of a reaction. We followed the organiser obediently, and I took Riley’s arm. There was a stiffness in his frame that hadn’t been there a minute ago.

  “Listen,” I said between flashing smiles to cameras. “They’re probably going to ask you questions. But don’t worry, you don’t have to say anything. I’ll handle it.”

  He nodded, but his body didn’t relax. And when I glanced up at him, his face was like stone. My stomach sank. He looked like he was in physical pain.

  That wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted the two of us to have a magical night. I wanted to be that Disney princess who got to go to the ball and be swept off her feet by her Prince Charming.

  But judging from the expression on Riley’s face, asking him to be my date might have been my worst idea yet.

  19

  Riley

  There were people everywhere. It wasn’t a crowd. It was a sea of screaming fans as far as I could see in both directions. Security guards in tuxedos lined the barricades that kept people off the red carpet, so logically I knew we had plenty of room. But I still felt as if walls were pressing in on me. I knew Bianca was a big star in this country. But I’d never expected anything like this. This was insane.

  A security guard directed us to a backdrop that displayed the award show’s logo, and I stood, shell-shocked, while Bianca tossed her hair over her shoulder and posed for the group of photographers. Cameras flashed and clicked, and people yelled for her attention. I blinked and tried to smile, but I knew it probably came across as more of a grimace. I was so uncomfortable. Not only in this suit but with all these people staring at us. What if I fucked this up? She’d said I didn’t have to speak, but I didn’t just want to be her arm candy. We’d be here until midnight at least, so I had to speak to somebody at some point. But what if I said something stupid and embarrassed her? I was a carpenter. I knew tools and wood. And guys who swore and drank beer after hours. The people milling around us, with their pristine nails and hair, had probably never lifted a hammer in their lives. What the hell was I going to talk about for the next six hours? If they started discussing casting calls and stage directions or any of the other showbiz stuff I knew nothing about, I’d just be standing there like a chump. I didn’t fit in here at all, and as soon as I opened my mouth, they’d realise that.

  We shuffled along the red carpet some more, and Bianca led me around, greeting people as she went. She introduced me to them all, and each time I tried to force something other than a polite “hello” from my lips. But it wouldn’t come.

  “You okay?” Bianca asked, placing her hand in mine.

  “Of course,” I lied.

  She didn’t look like she believed me.

  “There’s one more section of reporters up ahead before we get to the doors.”

  I nodded. I could see the entrance to the building the show was taking place in and I yearned to make a run for it.

  Bianca pulled me to a stop beside her as half a dozen reporters shoved microphones in our faces.

  “BB!” a woman yelled, even though we were standing less than a meter from her.

  I took a step back.

  “How does it feel to be the favourite for tonight’s gold Logie?”

  “I’m not the favourite!” Bianca laughed. “I’m just honoured to be nominated. It’s an exceptional group of actors to be associated with.”

  “And who’s your date?” another reporter yelled.

  Why the hell were they shouting? The reporters all turned to me.

  “What’s your name? Are you two dating? Is it serious?”

  I stiffened. Is it serious? Wow. Like that was anybody’s business. I opened my mouth to reply, but Bianca beat me to it.

  “No, we aren’t dating, he’s just a friend.”

  I snapped my mouth closed. Bianca continued answering questions with practiced ease, but all I could hear was her telling them we were just friends. Friends? We’d been a lot of things, but we’d never been friends. We hadn’t even been friends with benefits. We’d just been…benefits. Was friends where she honestly thought we were? I knew it hadn’t been long since we’d first decided to try to make this thing between us work, but I hadn’t stopped thinking about her all week. I’d often thought of her, even before we’d agreed to call a truce, but that had increased tenfold since our first date. And now I felt like a bloody fool.

  Eventually, Bianca wrapped up her PR, and we walked into the lobby of the building.

  “That went well, don’t you think? For your first red carpet?” Bianca’s big blue eyes looked up at me, full of excitement.

  I nodded. But, to be honest, I had no idea. About anything.

  20

  Bianca

  Two things I’d learned in the last three hours. One—the actress seated next to me had no boundaries. She also never shut up. And two—Riley hated award ceremonies with the fire of a thousand burning suns.

  “So, then they cancelled my bikini wax, and Justin had to go muff diving with that whole downstairs situation…”

  I closed my eyes and tried to remember that I’d once been a barely twenty starlet myself. Though I was pretty sure I’d never been an over sharer the way Sienna was. I smiled politely and turned back to Riley who was glowering at a plate of uneaten food, stabbing at it with a knife like he wanted to murder someone.

  I let out a long breath. “Hey.” I placed my hand over his. “What did that meat do to you?”

  He looked up but didn’t comment before he went back to poking it around his plate.

  “Hey, Riley,” Sienna said, leaning across me to batt her eyelashes at him. Her date was sitting right next to her, but she seemed to have forgotten that. And he didn’t seem to mind at all. If he even noticed. He’d spent half the night following around a producer, trying to talk his way into a job on the show. “What exactly does a carpenter do? You build stuff, right?”

  I fought the urge to roll my eyes, but Riley just nodded at her. “Yeah, that’s pretty much the job description.”

  When he didn’t encourage the conversation any further, Sienna lost interest and went back to Instagramming every aspect of the evening.

  I flipped over my phone and checked the time. “It’s only a few more hours. Then we can leave. I know you’re hating this.”

  “I’m not hating it, B. I just…” He sighed. Then he shoved his chair back and grabbed my wrist.

  He pulled me up from my chair, and I followed him towards the edge of the darkened room, weaving between people and tables. I was almost running to keep up with him.

  “Riley! Where
are we going?”

  He didn’t answer.

  When we hit the wall, he looked in both directions before tugging me towards his left with a new determination. We reached a door, and when he tugged it open, he led me through, light spilling into the darkened auditorium. We were now in a quiet, well-lit hallway to the side of the stage. As the door closed behind us, I extracted my hand from his grasp.

  “Riley, stop. Talk to me. What’s going on?”

  He spun around and had his lips on mine before I could even comprehend what he was doing. He pushed me up against the door we’d just come out of, his mouth possessing mine. Branding me, owning me. His kiss was hard and desperate, and after a moment of surprise, I kissed him back with everything I had. Kissing him was all I’d wanted to do all night. When he pulled away, my gaze was unfocussed.

  Holy hell.

  The man had always been able to curl my toes, but there was something in that kiss that did me in. He could have undone his fly and taken me right then and there and I wouldn’t have batted an eyelid. In fact, I would have welcomed it. I knew exactly what hot, fast sex with him felt like, and it was never a bad thing.

  His gaze was sharp and burned through me as he hovered inches from my mouth. I moved in to kiss him again, but he stopped me.

  “Is that how you kiss all your friends?” he demanded.

  “What?” I was lost in the haze of his tongue in my mouth and his hard body pressed into mine.

  “I’m not your fucking friend, Bianca. A friend wouldn’t kiss you like that.”

  My eyes widened. What was he even talking about?

  “You told the reporter out there that we were just friends.”