Before A Perfect World: Movie Trilogy, Book Two (The Movie 2)

by Kimberly Adams

  “I will,” I promised as two, swift knocks sounded on the trailer door. “Love you.”

  Fuck. God-fucking-damnit.

  Keaton’s eyes whipped to mine, and I heard Matthew’s automatic response.

  “I love you, Vivian. God I love you.”

  I disconnected before I went into a long, rambling apology for our automatic goodbye. “I didn’t mean that Keaton, I’m just… flustered… and it’s how we always said goodbye-”

  “Don’t.” He cut me off with a look, letting the police inside the trailer.

  I crumbled, burying my face in my hands.

  Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close

  K

  In the grand scheme of things, after the last two weeks, watching Ash Salter undress the love of my life was the icing on the shit cake.

  After the police and FBI had swarmed the set, the studio had threatened to shut us down. I was on the phone with them until nearly one in the morning, watching Vivian sleep as I negotiated continuing the filming. She stirred as I carried her to the bedroom, tucking her beneath the covers.

  “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, somewhere between asleep and awake.

  “Don’t you dare,” I threatened, whispering against her ear. “I’m so fucking sorry, kiddo. I was crazy.”

  “You were scared,” she protested, always defending me. I cringed.

  “Seeing you passed out like that… realizing that the killer called you and then faking our break-up… it was too much. I fucking lost it.”

  “I didn’t mean to tell him I love him. I’m so sorry.”

  The silence in the trailer was interrupted by her controlled breaths. Before she could cry again, I covered her mouth with mine, wrapping my hands around her wrists and locking them above her head.

  “I know who you love. Don’t cry.”

  I took my time with my mouth, coaxing soft little moans from her throat as I drew my tongue over her neck. I didn’t waste time with her panties, simply reaching down to fist the lacy material, tugging them aside to open her to my prodding erection.

  “Slow, V,” I whispered, and she gasped as I pushed forward, filling her, covering her lips with mine. I felt her twist a little at the fabric still between her legs, and it only took her a moment to realize that I wasn’t taking them off of her.

  She lifted her hips, meeting me with each thrust. “You feel… the way I feel with you,” she panted, trying desperately to articulate even as I slid my hand between the mattress and her back to cup her ass. “No one has ever… will ever… make me feel…”

  Fuck. Was she trying to tell me that I was the best she’d ever had? Her panting words brought me too close to stop, and I groaned at the same time that she did, feeling her wet rush of warmth even as I came apart so deep inside of her.

  I let her drift in and out of sleep, waiting a while before I made love to her again. This time I went slowly, unselfishly, coaxing her to her breaking point twice before finally letting her sleep.

  Jerking back to the present, I stiffened as five sets of studio lights lit up my fiancée’s body while Ash Salter hovered over her, kissing his way down her neck.

  “Ow,” Vivian cried, and I exhaled slowly, closing my eyes.

  “Cut.”

  I shifted from behind the cameras, moving to both of them. Vivian was up on a kitchen table, trying desperately to adjust the little nighty that Ash had just been pawing at.

  “I’m sorry, I moved and pinched my thighs on the table edge.”

  “That was my fault, I picked you up and set you down,” Ash called, chugging a bottle of water.

  “Open your legs,” I said, meeting her eyes. “Ash, flatten your hand on her lower back and tuck her against you. Then reach down like you’re unzipping your jeans.”

  She nodded quickly as Lisa, her make-up artist, came at her out of nowhere with a giant cosmetic brush. “She’s shiny. Honey, are you sweating?” she asked gently.

  “No,” Vivian replied, obviously embarrassed. “No, I’m just overly oily for some reason,” she whispered.

  “Try not to touch your face,” Lisa suggested.

  “Your crotch will be at his stomach,” I went on, ignoring her. “Open your legs.”

  She bit her lip and did exactly as I directed.

  Exhaling slowly, I fought the instant blood pumping exactly where I didn’t want it to pump.

  And then I thought of her beneath me the night before as I pinned her hands above her head.

  Fuuuck.

  That was it.

  “Okay, never mind. Ash, get over here.”

  “Coming,” he called, tossing the plastic bottle to the trashcan. “Hey, are we recycling around here?”

  “Yes, the bin on the right,” someone called from behind him.

  “No music in this scene. I want to hear you breathe,” I encouraged, speaking directly to Vivian. “Remember?”

  “Right,” she agreed.

  Her fingers curled at her neck, and she scratched.

  I sighed. “Everyone out. Central crew only. Boom operator, camera, and my crew. If that’s not you, you’re done for today.” I lifted the spaghetti strap of her nighty back to her shoulder, kissing her forehead. “This is as bare bones as it gets, V. Can you do this?”

  “Hold on,” the makeup artist called, squeezing between us with a spray bottle. Vivian flinched as she sprayed her down.

  “What is this?” she asked.

  “Just rosewater and glycerin. A thin sweat.” She dabbed at Vivian’s chest with a cotton ball.

  “Tongue or no tongue?” Ash asked, brushing his fingers through his hair. “Cause I just ate a bag of Funyuns, and I’m dying to share that little piece of Heaven with you, Viv.”

  She laughed, looking at me quickly.

  “I want you to take her chin like this,” I said, lowering my voice so that only the three of us could hear. She gasped as I caught her jaw in my palm.

  I pressed gently on her cheeks, and her mouth opened, her lips parting naturally.

  “While you’ve got her up against you, you’re going to kiss her mouth first, then down her neck. Strap down, your mouth on her breast. V, you arch your back, and I want you rocking against him like he’s inside of you. But you’ll be here.” I chopped my flattened hand against Ash’s abs, slightly harder than necessary.

  “Umph. Right. Got it,” he replied, rolling his eyes at Vivian.

  “Just go with it. You are Kristie. If Kristie wants her husband’s tongue in her mouth, make it happen,” I ordered.

  I’d purposely scheduled the sex scene first, hoping to catch her at her most vulnerable.

  She nodded quickly, straightening as Ash took my place in front of her.

  I moved back near the lights, gesturing to Craig as he repositioned himself behind the camera. “Action.”

  Her legs fell open. Ash flattened his palm on her lower back, tugging her crotch against his waist.

  He lowered his hand to unzip his jeans, and she whimpered, letting her head fall back.

  He took that moment to grab her chin, pressure on her cheeks.

  Lips open. His mouth on hers.

  She began to rub against him, and he yanked at her strap, shocking her as the thin lace tore against her shoulder.

  Before she could look my way, Ash preempted her alarm, practically shoving his tongue down her throat.

  She struggled, wrenching away to take a breath as his mouth dragged over her throat and down her bare shoulder.

  I saw him apply pressure to her lower back, encouraging her to continue moving against his stomach.

  “Don’t,” she breathed as his mouth closed over her nipple, through the thin lace.

  He pulled away and fisted her hair, forcing her eyes on his as he met her feigned thrusts.

  She threw her head back then in series of loud cries, and he groaned, dropping his forehead to her chest.

  After a solid two minutes of their panting breaths, I stepped forward. “Cut. Good. That was better. Sherry, we need a
new nightie for Vivian. Ash, don’t rip it, but I like how you were rough there. She did too.”

  “We have to do it again?” Vivian asked, accepting the robe that Sherry held out for her. “Another take?”

  I turned to her, but Ash cut me off.

  “This is going to take all day, Viv. It helps if you kind of think of it like… the Hokey Pokey. Right tit in, right tit out,” he quipped, making her giggle.

  “I will ignore your unprofessional comments because you’re making her laugh,” I said, moving to wrap the robe around her shoulders. “Vivian,” I whispered, careful that only she could hear. “You came too hard. Just let it happen. Close your eyes and think about me.”

  Her heavy-lidded gaze took in my face, and she moved closer. “Okay.”

  “Remember Beaverjuice?”

  She flushed, nodding quickly.

  “Now, remember last night?” I went on in barely a hush.

  She nodded again, tightening her grip on her robe.

  “Happy medium, okay?” I suggested gently.

  “Okay,” she agreed again.

  “Say okay again,” I breathed against her lips.

  She grinned, letting go of the air she’d been holding.

  “Okay,” she answered, smirking.

  “Good girl.” I raised one eyebrow. “I’m not going to kiss you. You smell like Salter. Ash, lay off the fucking onions, it’s not funny. I’ll let her puke on you.”

  He only chuckled, grabbing his toothbrush and holding it into the air for me to see before disappearing into the restroom.

  “How many more takes?” Vivian asked.

  “As many as I need. Why, are you getting tired?”

  “A little.” She shrugged but held her smile.

  “A few more, and if I don’t get what I need, we’ll start again tomorrow.”

  “Are you always this… obsessed?” she asked, clinging to the robe as her makeup artist dropped the new nightie to her lap.

  “Motivated,” I corrected, peering through the camera. “Craig, no close-ups on this one. Pan out more than in. I want their home, their kitchen. Knowing he’s about to go looking for this killer, I want to create their relationship in the scene. I want to see the coffee pot, the toaster, things they use every day. Salter,” I called as he emerged from the restroom. “Pick her up and put her on the table, and let the kitchen chair fall. Don’t just push her back.”

  We did ten more takes before Vivian’s eyes started to water, and I could finally tell she was exhausted. “Okay, we’re going to try again tomorrow. Everyone get some rest.”

  She slid off the table, wrapping her robe around herself again and moving to the couch on the set. I stood with Craig and Mark, the boom operator, giving them the plans for the morning. Keeping my eyes on Vivian, I watched as she rested her head against the back of the couch and closed her eyes.

  “Okay, goodnight everyone. Good work. Better tomorrow,” I added. My comments were met with a few kiss-ass acknowledgements for my efforts. I knew that wouldn’t last long, so I made sure not to take for granted their first-day enthusiasm.

  Ash was waiting near the door of the set. “Should I walk her back to the tents?”

  I glanced at Vivian. She seemed too tired to care what happened next, so I nodded.

  “I’ll follow right behind. V, go straight to the trailer.”

  The police officer waiting outside the set joined us, and I glanced around to catch any photographers. If they were there, they’d hidden themselves well enough for us not to know.

  When I got to our trailer, I heard the shower running. I grabbed a Red Bull from the fridge, sitting down at the kitchen table with my laptop. She emerged, towel drying her long, damp hair and wearing only a long, Boogie Nights t-shirt. “Keaton, you should come to bed,” she chided, glancing at my drink.

  “I have a few emails to answer and then I will. Want me to tuck you in?” I asked.

  “I’m already asleep,” she answered weakly.

  “Then kiss me and go to bed.”

  She obliged, and then added a quick hug, catching me off guard.

  “Hey. Come here.” I pulled her into my lap, leaving her arms wrapped around me. “You okay, kiddo?”

  “I’m just overly tired. My mind won’t turn off.”

  “Was it the scene?”

  “A little. I know it was only my first. Do you usually do that many takes, or am I just extra bad?”

  I tucked my face between her breasts, nudging with soft kisses. She exhaled softly.

  “Honestly?”

  “Yes,” she replied, her entire body stiffening.

  “I’m a perfectionist. And I was waiting to see you respond to Salter the way I see you respond to me. And I realize that it’s not going to happen. I should be happy about that, since you’re going to be my wife, but the director part of me wants it. I want you to give it to me. To him.”

  She listened patiently, finally resting her head on my shoulder.

  “Okay. I’ll try harder tomorrow, after I get more sleep.”

  I stood with her in my arms, carrying her to the bedroom with her legs wrapped around my waist. “I’m sure I’ll be up before you tomorrow. I’ll leave you a note.” Tucking the blankets around her, I turned to the air conditioner to adjust it. A cork board hung on the door facing the hallway, and I grinned, retrieving the ultrasound photo from my wallet and pinning it to the board.

  “I love that,” she whispered, watching me smooth out the photo of our baby.

  “I love you,” I replied, kissing her again softly before moving back into the kitchen.

  . . .

  I glanced at my watch. Nine AM.

  Sighing, I returned the expectant glares of the crew, running my hands through my hair. “I’ll go get her.”

  “I’m sleeping in tomorrow,” someone called from beyond the cameras, and I turned to glare back at the group.

  “One more comment like that,” I threatened, “and you’ll be sleeping in in your own shithole apartment tomorrow.”

  The icy silence in the vast building was exactly the reaction I was hoping for.

  As I walked between the set and the tents, the press that had already begun to gather tried for a few photos before they were stopped by security. I hurried inside the trailer, stopping short at the corkboard.

  My note from that morning was pinned next to the ultrasound photo.

  V-

  Meet me on the set. Bring my baby.

  -K

  Below my note, she’s written her own in her neat, wispy handwriting.

  Keaton,

  I went back to bed. Your baby is almost as exhausting as you are.

  XO- Vivian

  Grinning, I turned the door handle, my eyes settling on her sleeping figure. I was starting to recognize her favorite positions; curled on her left side, or on her back with her arm slung over her forehead.

  The closer I got to her, the more I realized that she was out. Breathing deeply, she didn’t stir as I brushed her hair out of her eyes.

  “V,” I murmured, kneeling at the side of the bed.

  When she didn’t reply, I kissed her.

  She moved, turning away from me.

  Grinning, I crawled in next to her, spooning against her back and drawing her tightly against me. “Vivian Hale, this is your boss. It’s time to get up for work.”

  “Go away Boss,” she exhaled.

  I smirked, moving her hair away from her neck to drag my mouth over her bare shoulder. “I have something for you.”

  She sighed, rolling over and squinting my way. “Jolly Ranchers?”

  She caught me off guard, and I snickered. “Candy?”

  “I was dreaming that you went to get me some. God I want some right now.”

  “Well,” I began, rolling over to reach for my unpacked bag. “I got this at the airport. For her.”

  I handed her the onesie, and she broke into a smile, reading the front of the shirt.

  “Best Supporting Star? I love th
is,” she cried, gripping it to her chest.

  “I knew you would. I’m going to buy her a pony, too, but they didn’t have those at the airport.” She laughed, thoroughly enjoying the moment between us. “But then again, if she’s anything like her mother… she’ll want a unicorn.”

  “And somehow, Keaton Thane, you’ll find her a unicorn.”

  “You know I will.”

  She sighed, lifting her pretty eyebrows hopefully. “Do I have to kiss Ash all day today?”

  I slid my hand between her legs, pinching her thigh, and she giggled. “There is nothing more sexy than my future wife complaining about having to kiss Ash Salter again.”

  “Do I?” she asked again.

  “No. We’re doing some outdoor scenes today, since it’s sunny.”

  “So that means… you have to keep your distance.”

  I’d almost forgotten about the motherfucking paparazzi and the killer at large. Scowling, I shrugged. “Right.”

  “Space, Keaton. Just in public. In private, I’m yours,” she assured me, opening her legs to my hand.

  How she went from sweet and motherly to goddamn fucking sexy in one point two seconds, I’d never understand.

  I glanced at my watch, and then tore the covers away from her.

  “Well then, I’d better make this worth it for both of us.”

  She grinned, surrendering to my kiss.

  The Sting

  V

  Paparazzi. Everywhere.

  I wished the studio… or Keaton… would just kick them out. Frank made it seem like they wanted them there.

  “Of course we want them here,” Trent said, sitting on a nearby chair to take his boot off. “It’s publicity for the movie, Viv.”

  I wished he’d take his glasses off. He wore black frames, just like Matthew, and I turned away from him quickly.

  “I know it’s hard for you,” Ash said, appearing at my side. While Trent was the dark-hair-dark-eyed heartthrob, Ash was more of the surfer boy variety. Seeing them standing right next to each other, my double-X chromosomes did a simultaneous panty-drop maneuver as they grinned at me.