by Daria M Paus
Johnny & I
Book One - The Island
D A R I A M P A U S
Copyright © 2020 by Daria M Paus.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
The characters and events in this book are entirely fictional.
Any resemblance to actual places, events and persons (living or dead) is entirely coincidental and not intended by the author.
ISBN: 978-91-986433-0-5
Contents
Johnny—Two weeks earlier.
Bree — Present time—The island
1—Starstruck
2—Broken
3—Hot Mess
4—Coffee & Conversation
5—The storm
6—Baby can I hold you?
7—Fangirl Glasses
8—Intimacy
9—Hot & Cold
10—Head over Heels
11—Up close & Personal
12—Crash & Burn
13—Let me love you
14—Defenseless
15—Trapped
16—The Creeps
17—The Fight
18—Blood Sweat & Bruises
19—Bree’s Game
20—Emotions
21—Drunk Decisions
22—Johnny’s Truth
23—Fever
24—Demons
25—Johnny’s Team
26—Harsh Reality
27—Please Remember
28—Goodbyes
Two months later
Bree—Home
Johnny—With or without you
Two weeks earlier
Johnny
The bright California sun burned my shoulders as I walked along the shoreline. The gulls were chirping, and the mesmerizing rays hit the water at just the right angle that I almost didn’t notice I wasn’t alone.
"This is my lucky day," the leggy blonde said as she approached, invading my space with her thong bikini and sparkling eyes.
I couldn’t deny that her perfectly sculpted body caught my attention.
I raised an eyebrow, still stunned to find her on my stretch of sand. "Why is that?"
"You’re here," she giggled playfully. The fact that it was a private beach didn’t seem to bother her.
I couldn't help but scoff at her fake innocence. "I live here.”
I was sure the fact was no news to her. The two-story white mansion that towered over the ocean, one sandy path, and a few winding stairs just past the dunes had been on the cover of all the popular magazines. There was no one in Hollywood who didn’t know where to find me.
"I have to ask you to leave, this is private property."
She just grinned back, shamelessly admitting to trespassing on my privacy. I didn't know whether to call the guards or enjoy her flirting.
"Johnny Grey." Her eyes traveled over my body. "You look even better in real life." She inched closer, blinking her impossibly long eyelashes as she gazed up at me.
"I'm your biggest fan," she said. "Would you do me a favor?"
I took a step away from her, trying to look anywhere but at her half-naked body.
She didn't wait for my reply. "I made a bet with my sister." She licked her lips, closing the space between us.
I gulped, taking another step back. "Sorry," I said. “You should go."
"Is that really what you want me to do?"
Before I had a chance to react, she grabbed my shirt with one hand and pulled me toward her. I felt her other hand on my crotch just seconds before her lips pressed against mine. For a moment I was too shocked to do anything, feeling my body respond to her kiss. My mind caught up and I shoved her away.
"What the fuck?"
She leaned closer. "You liked that, didn't you?"
She was attractive, but so were most of the women here. Attractive, shallow, and fake. If it wasn’t their bodies made up of silicone and botox, it was their superficial minds. That was the type I seemed to attract—when all I’d ever wanted was the opposite. Someone who’d want to date me, and not the characters I’d played. Someone who’d see me as something more than a free ticket to fame, or a chance to make the tabloids.
I turned away from her, watching the ocean. "I’ll call the guards if you don't go.”
"Are you sure about that?" Her arms snaked around me from behind. Hands explored their way up and down my body and I froze, torn between wanting to give in to my body’s desires and the aching need for human contact—and the urge to rip her hands off of me.
"What's going on here?" The voice made me snap out of it and her hands were gone in a flash. We both turned to watch Marc as he strode up to us. "Am I interrupting something?"
The blonde flinched and took a few steps back. I tried to not look pleased. Marc wasn’t as cold hearted as he looked, but he was rough, straight to the point, and never bothered with formalities.
"No," I said. I looked at her. "Uh—she was just leaving."
The woman gave me a wink, then started walking. I tried not to watch, but Marc did, and it was clear he liked the view.
When she was gone, Marc turned his attention back to me. "What the fuck?" His steel eyes demanded answers.
The tone of his voice made me cringe and I felt like a teenage boy caught with his pants down. Hell, I didn't need to explain anything to him. I was a man of thirty-five, and Marc was paid to keep crazy fans out of my face. Still, I felt myself shrink beneath his gaze. "She came out of nowhere," I explained. "I don't know what happened."
"I swear to God,” Marc scoffed. “I leave you for one minute . . .”
I looked away, knowing there was a pretty big amount of truth in that statement. My typical bad luck. Why Marc had stayed with me during all the shit I’d managed to land myself in over the years was still a mystery. But I was grateful. Even though it was strictly business, I was sure he knew that he was more than just a bodyguard. Hell, I’d even go as far as to call him a friend.
I sighed, eyeing the now empty beach. The woman had seemed innocent enough, in a sexy, pushy way. I was sure she was no real threat, but that didn’t make what she’d done as acceptable.
∞∞∞
The evening air was warm and the light rain on my bare arms felt good as I stepped out of the black sedan. The street buzzed with activity even though it was well past midnight. I pulled the baseball hat down and covered my eyes with dark sunglasses as I walked next to Marc, following him as he led the way to our favorite restaurant.
Rick and his best mate and colleague, Casey, drifted behind, chatting away as if they’d forgotten they were on the clock. I didn't mind. In fact, I was relieved they weren't on my heels. Marc, however, was the typical bloodhound. He never left my side, and even though he annoyed me most of the time, I felt somewhat normal under his watch. He made sure I could walk the streets without a group of screaming girls flocking around me—and for that I was grateful.
Rounding a corner, I spotted a group of young women; I hesitated, considering turning back. If they recognized me, the word would spread quickly, and I wasn’t up to being tonight’s main attraction. All I wanted was a calm night and a few whiskeys with the guys. Marc’s hand on my back urged me to keep moving. I kept my eyes on the wet asphalt beneath my feet and walked past the group without drawing too much attention to myself.
No one approached me, despite the whispers and curious looks, and as the door of the pub closed behind us, I let out the breath I’d been h
olding.
Sinking down onto a leather seat at the far corner of the building, I removed my baseball-hat and sunglasses with a sigh of relief.
Rick grinned. "That was close. I was sure they would recognize you."
I rolled my eyes, running a hand through my hair to smooth it down. As always, the dark tangles could never be tamed, and no matter what I did, they kept on falling back into my face. Apparently, women found it sexy, so I let it be.
Casey flopped down next to Rick, while Marc remained standing nearby as he waited for our order.
The waitress dropped the tray when she spotted me. Bottles and glasses flew in all directions, the sound as they hit the floor making me cringe. The whiskey I had hoped to drink splashed all over me, and Rick and Casey burst into a fit of laughter. I managed to shake my head at the mess.
Feeling bad for the girl, and embarrassed for being the cause of her clumsiness, I got up and helped her gather the broken glass. To her credit, she was new. I’d never seen her before. She obviously wasn’t aware of the fact that I visit this bar. All of the regulars had gotten used to seeing me here and no longer reacted like the typical fangirl. That was one of the main reasons I always came back to this place. That, and the excellent varieties of hard liquor.
"I'm so sorry!" she blurted. “I—”
"Don't worry about it."
She stared at me, and I looked down at my wet shirt.
“You’re . . .” She nearly dropped the tray again but managed to hold on to it. "I've seen all your movies," she gushed, her hands shaking as she held the tray. "I love you; you are . . ." She struggled to find the words and I tried to hide from the awkward mess I’d once again found myself in. I was famous, yes, I couldn’t deny that. But even though I loved my job, I had never expected, or even wanted the fame. It just came by default. Sexiest man of the year. Every girl's dream. A-list actor—the titles had been made up by idiots who had no idea what they were talking about.
Hours later I stared into the restroom mirror. Too many whiskeys made it hard to focus and the dark eyes that stared back at me seemed foggy and hollow.
It wasn’t the eyes that women swooned over. The truth was, I couldn’t see what most people claimed to see. I had the features that fell into the right category; straight nose, high cheekbones, and a jawline that could cut paper. To me it was just a jigsaw puzzle of broken pieces that weren’t much to look at. All I saw in the mirror was the little boy no one wanted.
"Hey, sexy.” A familiar voice pulled my attention from the mirror. It was the girl from the beach, standing in front of me, smiling shamelessly. "Missed me?"
I spun on my heels, my eyes widening in disbelief.
Fuck. How could she have managed to sneak past Marc?
"Did you follow me here?" The question was unnecessary, and she grinned back in response.
I turned to leave, but she grabbed my arm. She was all over me before I had a chance to understand what was happening—hands groping, lips seeking mine. My mind spun from too much alcohol, creating incoherent thoughts. I couldn't focus. I knew I should stop her, call for help, maybe. But I felt my body working on autopilot, and against my will, one arm reached around her waist.
"You want me,” she purred into my neck. "I know you do."
I had no energy to fight it anymore. I did.
She ripped my shirt open, scattering the buttons across the floor.
"What the f—”
Her lips shut me up and this time I kissed her back. She pulled away, leaving me gasping for air.
"Do you want more?" She trailed a long fingernail down my chest as she spoke." I can give you the best night of your life. Come with me."
I wanted to. I had nothing to lose. No one waiting for me at home; no one who saw beyond the fame and the money.
"I don't even know your name," I said.
"It's Nancy." Her seductive voice slipped from her lips.
I nodded then, letting my body decide for me. "I’ll come with you, Nancy."
After all, what did I have to lose?
∞∞∞
The sun peeked through the curtains the next morning, and I squinted up at the light. My head pounded like a freight train. Groaning, I rolled over onto my side, hoping to fall back asleep. Almost immediately, last night flooded my mind. Fuck. What had I done? Hadn't I promised myself to not go home with a random woman again? It had to stop. I always felt worse after. I stared at the unfamiliar smoothness of her skin as she slept next to me and inhaled her perfume, feeling emptier than ever.
"Hey, sexy." Nancy smiled as she stretched her arms above her head, the sheet slipping just enough to reveal her bare skin beneath. A pang of regret shot through me.
"Hey," I said back, and swung my legs over the side of the bed, contemplating my best escape route. "I should go."
I felt her sit up behind me, her arms moving as if she’d begun to gather her hair into a ponytail. "No, stay."
"Sorry, I have to work," I lied. There was no filming today, but she didn't need to know that.
"But you’ll come back, right?" she asked. "I have so many plans for us."
I let out a slow breath, turning to face her. All I'd wanted was one night, and here she was, already planning our future. How could I have misinterpreted it that much? She'd literally thrown herself at me. I'd been sure she wanted the same thing.
"Uh . . .” I began. “Nancy. I'm sorry, I didn't mean . . ." I let out a sigh and ran my hand through my hair.
Her eyes narrowed as she seemed to understand where I was going. "That's it?" she asked. "You just fuck me and leave?"
"I thought you wanted that.” The moment I said it, I realized what an asshole comment it was, and wished I could take it back.
"I did," she snapped. “But not only that."
I nodded, suddenly wishing I was anywhere else than naked in an angry woman's bed. "I'm sorry," I said. "Really. It was an honest mistake." The moment the words left my mouth I knew they had once again come out wrong.
"Mistake? I was a mistake?" She threw the covers away and jumped out of bed, stomping around as she searched for her scattered clothes. She found mine and threw them at me, and I took the opportunity to dress.
When she was done, she stood in front of me, watching me in silence. I cringed under her stare.
She offered me a sly smile. "Alright sexy, I got it."
“You're not upset?"
She shook her head. “You’ll change your mind," she said.
I wouldn’t. But I nodded anyway.
∞∞∞
Nancy didn't bother me in the coming days, making our night together easier to forget. We were shooting on location for the upcoming movie and the hotel the studio had booked for us was crowded. The rumors spread quickly and wherever I went, people flocked. It was one more thing I had never gotten used to, and I was sure I never would. I would never understand the obsession, even though the support and the love from my fans were what kept me going, even in the darkest of times. That, and the comfort of escaping into another life and world for a moment. That was the main reason I’d picked up acting from the start. To escape reality. To survive.
I could barely keep my eyes open as I stumbled into my room that night. It had been a long day, and all I wanted was to lie down and sleep the headache off. I closed the door and leaned against it as I let my feelings catch up with me.
The silence was tangible. My eyes fell on the red velvet couch and I realized how empty it looked. Not just the couch, but the entire room. All the luxury and the comfort of first-class suites could not make up for the fact that at the end of the day—I was alone. I hated it. Hated how it made me feel. Hated the dreams of finding the right woman, that refused to die, no matter how much I tried to drown them with whiskey. They just kept floating back up like a cork. Stubborn, inescapable. The fake smiles and the illusion of a perfect life were exhausting to pull off—even for me. There were times when I just wanted to end it all. What was the point of having everything? A mansion to
o big for only one man. A private island but no one to share the freedom with. Money that I could never spend. The only thing I needed was something money couldn’t buy.
The knock on the door echoed through the empty room and I jumped from the sudden sound. With a pounding heart, I turned around and opened it.
“Hey sexy.” Her voice was like a seductive purr as she pushed her way past me and strode into the room.
I gasped as she let her coat fall to the floor.
"Nancy?" I managed to choke out. "What the fuck? How did you get up here?” The entire floor was reserved for me and the crew. How had she managed to worm her way through the net of security without being spotted or arrested for trespassing? The stalker alert went off in my mind.
"Don't you like what you see?"
I did, I couldn't deny that. But there was no way I was going to fall for that trick again. No matter how sexy she was as she stood naked before me. No matter how my lonely heart longed for a warm body to hold.
I shook my head, tearing my gaze away. "You have to go," I said, holding the door open. She didn't move.
"Get out."
"Babe.” She shook her head. "I can’t go; I came to keep you company."
Fuck. How did she know?
"You look so lonely in this big room. Let me make you feel better."
I gulped. She knew exactly which buttons to push and I hated her for it. Hated how she managed to make me feel unloved, even though she was offering herself to me. Was this all I'd ever get? Was it all I was to women? A body—a toy to play with for a few nights? All they wanted was to be in the spotlight by my side. A ticket to fame, a trophy to show off. How many times hadn't I fallen into the same trap? Thinking I'd found someone for me, only to be brought to my knees as they walked away.
"Get out." I barely recognized my voice. It was too low, too raw. But something changed in the way she looked at me. "Leave me alone before I call the cops.”
"Don't you dare."
"Then get the fuck out of here!”
She stood there, motionless and silent as I looked around for a solution that would somehow present itself to me.
