by Jackson Kane
Later
“I am so fucking nervous, Bastien.” Olivia paced the small dressing room, rereading her lines for the hundredth time. Someone from production just came by to let her know that the director was running late and to sit tight until he arrives.
Two hours of Los Angeles traffic just to hang around half the day waiting for some elitist director prick. I never cared for California. Everyone here seemed passive aggressive and evasive. Back East everyone openly hated each other, so you knew exactly where you stood.
Also, the weather was too perfect here, for some reason that pissed me off too.
At least no one was trying to kill Olivia here.
I stepped in front of her, stopping Olivia's wild pacing, then grabbed the script out of her hands.
“Hey, I need that!” Olivia's eyes flared angrily.
“No you don't.” I tossed the papers onto the floor. “You know the damn lines. What you need, is to relax.”
“Easy for you to say. You have no idea how important this is for me. I need this role,” Olivia argued, bending down to pick up the papers with gloves that came halfway up her biceps.
Olivia was wearing this elegant, muted-gold dress. She was folded at the waist right in front of me. I could feel the blood rushing to my cock. I couldn't see her dark silk panties through the sheer fabric. She was wearing too many petticoats for that. But I knew she was wearing them because I’d seen her put them on this morning. It was that stark contrast of proper on the outside, but a freak underneath that really turned me on.
She quickly stood back up, facing away from me. I slid a hand around her stomach and pulled her into my chest and my hardness. We'd been walking such a dangerous line lately, fucking as often as we did. It was excruciating when we were in public together, I'd be close enough to smell her perfume and feel her breath, but I couldn't touch her.
The more I got of her, the more I wanted. Whenever she was around, it felt like my cock was rock hard more times than it wasn't. No woman had ever done this to me. What was wrong with me?
“Bastien, we can't. Definitely not here, who knows when the director will be ready.” Olivia struggled halfheartedly, but behind the fear in her voice, I could hear her smiling.
“You know what your problem is?” I dragged a hand up her thigh, under her dress and petticoats, then hooked her dark panties with my thumb. “You look too pretty.”
“Bastien!” She whispered, slapping at my hand.
“You're the lady of the house’s other woman, right?” I slipped my fingers beneath the elastic strap, and down her smoothly shaved pussy. They slid between her soft lips and rested there. Olivia stopped struggling instead she rubbed her ass into my cock. “You need to look like a girl who likes to get dirty. Someone who loves the thrill of danger at being discovered.”
Olivia breathed fitfully in little bursts. She let her head lull back on my shoulder. “This is such a bad idea,” she whispered, more to herself than to me. I watched as she bit her lips and brushed a hand over her breast.
“She chose you,” My voice dropped an octave, the sound licked against her ear. “Because she likes the way you fuck.”
Having her slithering up against me the way she was made it hard to think about anything other than tearing her clothes off. As much as I loved destroying her clothes, this was her costume. I'd have to play nice, or rather, I could only ravage her skin this time.
The corset propped up her tits, giving her more cleavage than I thought possible. I wanted to lick every inch of her. I loved the way she looked in this Victorian outfit, I'd definitely be buying her a set to bring home. It'd be a set that I could tear off her.
She moaned softly as I slipped a finger into her already soaked pussy, then cut the sound off by biting her lip again. I pulled the wet finger out and rubbed slow circles over her clit. Closing her eyes, she reached down through her dress's neckline and pinched her nipple, seeing that drove me crazy.
“Why should I let you fuck me?” My voice was heavy with disdain, like Olivia was some kind of street urchin. I stroked her rougher, then pushed two fingers into her slick opening, curling them against her soft walls.
“Because you like how tight my pussy is.” She breathed the words that threatened to melt me on the spot. Instead, I turned the heat up on her and pulsed my fingers until she was close to coming.
“That's not good enough.” I pulled my fingers out and strummed her clit until she crunched forward and came into my hand. When her aftershocks subsided, I plunged my fingers into her mouth, letting her taste her own juices.
She bit them, then sucked them clean.
“What else?” I demanded.
Olivia twisted around, smiling devilishly. “You like the way I suck your cock.” She said, kissing my fingertips.
“On your knees, serving girl.” I looked hard into her eyes and unzipped the fly of my jeans. “Prove it to me.”
“Yes, Master.” Without hesitation, Olivia dropped, eagerly wrenching my cock from my pants. She licked up and down my long, hard shaft, dipping the head into her mouth. I loved how big my cock looked when she grabbed me. She needed both hands to get a good grip on it.
“Faster,” I said, giving her commands. “Squeeze my cock tighter.” She stroked me harder, then plunged my shaft into her mouth until she started to choke on it. It felt incredible. Now that I knew how good she was, I wanted her like this all the time.
Her tongue licked over my head as she sucked, sending wave after wave of mind-shattering pleasure up my shaft. My heart was beating so fast that I thought it might explode out of my chest. Olivia was perfect.
She worked my cock like no other girl I'd ever been with and soon enough she had me careening over the edge of orgasm. I shot my hot load down her throat. She was surprised at first, then she swallowed and sucked for more. Little earthquakes vibrated through my muscles and I had to hold onto the wall to keep from falling over.
When I felt like she might suck my soul out through my cock, I grabbed a handful of her expertly styled hair and wrenched her head back off of me. That nervousness in her earlier was now a ghost of a memory, Olivia wore the wicked grin of certainty. She knew she did a damn good job on me.
And looking down at her on her knees, staring up at me for more, I knew that I never wanted to fuck anyone other than her ever again.
Two rapid knocks was followed by the door swinging open. “Miss Ward? The director will see you now.”
My slick cock was still hard and hovering inches from her chin. The lust on Olivia's face quickly drained to terror as she imagined the scandal of being found back stage with her bodyguard’s cock in her mouth.
I threw a fist into the door, smashing it shut into the face of the poor bastard that was trying to come in. The man behind the door was thrown backward before he could see inside the room and discover us.
Wide-eyed, Olivia scurried over to the door on her knees, and locked it. She looked so hot crawling across the floor in that outfit that I could feel my cock getting fully hard again.
“Miss Ward?” The man behind the door groaned loudly. His voice was groggy and it sounded like he was picking himself up off the ground.
I didn't mean to hit him that hard it was just a reaction. Even still, I wouldn't hesitate to do it again if it meant protecting our secret.
“So sorry! I’m coming—” Olivia scrunched her face up and cursed beneath her breath, at the unintentional guilty, double meaning. “I mean, I'll be right out! Just, uh, freshening up!”
“Ok,” the man said through a soft whimper of pain. “Whenever you're ready, ma'am.”
Olivia only exhaled when she was sure she could hear his footsteps fade in the opposite direction. “I can't believe we just did that!”
“Relax,” I said, tucking my cock back into my pants. I helped her back to her feet. “Whatever happens, you can be my 'other' woman anytime.”
Olivia flashed me a look that said, 'I'd better be your only woman.'
I liked seeing
that jealousy in her eyes.
“Oh, no.” She then caught sight of her reflection and began to panic. Her makeup was smudged, her dress was roughed up. She was a beautiful disaster. “I don't have time to go back to hair and make up and the director is now waiting for me! What am I going to do?”
“Olive, you look amazing.” I grabbed the back of her ruined hairdo and pulled her mouth into mine. I licked her lips, smudging her lipstick even further, then kissed her. “Go out just like this, and know that no one can play this part better than you.”
Chapter 17
Olivia
Past
I checked my phone again for the hundredth time. It was still early. Bastien wasn't going to be here for another half hour, but I was going out of my mind waiting.
Breathe, Olivia.
I was wearing an off-the-shoulder, purple, mermaid dress with a train. It felt great, empowering even.
It also made me feel extremely uncomfortable.
There was no hiding anymore; people would really see me in this. And they would see me with Bastien. The mix of anticipation and nervousness was almost overwhelming to the degree of nausea.
I didn't go to my sophomore or junior proms, or the winter balls. I never cared much for school functions. I twirled around in my mirror with the confidence I could only muster here in my bedroom. I felt like a princess, and soon my knight would spirit me away.
“'Spirit,’ really? It's just a prom, Olivia.” I shook my head. The reflection in the mirror was too happy. I looked like a different version of myself. Bastien made me into this happier version. “Oh! I almost forgot.”
I got Bastien something small for his eighteenth birthday tomorrow. I grabbed it, just in case I decided to give it to him tonight. Especially if everything went as well as I hoped. I turned the present over in my hand, having second thoughts about it.
I hope he doesn't think it's too corny.
I needed to leave the safety of my bedroom before I exploded with excitement and self-consciousness. I went downstairs to wait in our foyer, then checked the time on my phone again. It wouldn't be long now!
I spotted my father walking to his study, manservant in tow. I hadn't seen him around the house lately. Despite doing an excellent job hiding it from the media, my father had a recurring gambling problem. At first, I thought it was because of a film, but over the last few months he'd been acting more on edge than usual. I guess he'd fallen back off the wagon.
“Father,” I said. He stopped and looked me over with squinting eyes, trying to figure out what occasion would require me to dress the way I was. “It's the—”
“Prom, yes.” My father remembered quickly. “Was purple mandatory, Olivia?” His disinterested gaze turned into scrutinizing judgment. “The press will no doubt be hovering around for my daughter's first semi-public outing. Next time, have Albert shop for you. He knows what's best for the Ward brand this season.”
I wanted to argue, but thought better of it. I hated the fact that my last name was a brand and not just a last name. It made me feel so imprisoned. I took a breath and swallowed my opinions.
“Yes, father.” I paused, then hesitantly asked about the 'other' thing that had been on my mind like crazy. “Have you heard anything about the audition?”
My father knew the film's director well, occasionally having him over for dinner and discussions. He had promised me an audition for a small supporting role on his latest film. Aside from Bastien, that was all I'd been thinking about lately. I finally felt ready for the opportunity.
“Yes!” He said, lighting up. “Wonderful news, in fact.” I started smiling despite myself. I couldn't wait to go on my first real audition. I'd even found dialogue online and had been practicing my lines all week. All I've ever wanted to do was act, and this was finally my chance. “Monique Lynn Villanueva did a radiant performance, I endorsed her for the role.”
My chest clamped shut like a vice.
“But you promised that I would at least get to audition.” I was no stranger to disappointment, but in that moment I felt older. The sadness was more of an ache than a stab. I knew I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up. My father hadn't ever helped me before in my acting career, why should he start now?
“Don't whine, Olivia, it's unbecoming. Just be pleased that we have the proper cast in place now to produce yet another accolade for the Ward name.” My father rattled off the words so casually that it almost felt like he was trying to hurt me.
Was he always this cold?
Albert, the manservant said something to my father in his typical soft voice. I used to try to eavesdrop, but Albert was too well trained to ever allow his low voice to be heard by anyone other than who he was talking to.
“It seems your car has arrived.” My father said, frowning. The thought of Bastien always managed to brighten my heart regardless of what else was going on in my life. I was so thankful for that. “There's no time for you to change, unfortunately. Albert, escort Olivia to the car, we mustn’t keep Jonathan waiting.”
“Jonathan?” The name slapped my face like a wet fish. Jonathan was the son of some CEO. He always came with his family to the parties my father threw at the house. I never liked him. “No, Bastien is—”
“I've already spoken with Trisha, the Kontos boy wasn't a suitable choice for you. You only have one senior prom, Olivia. Jonathan will make a more appealing suitor.” Trisha? I knew my father had talked to her a few times, but it was weird to hear him refer to her by first name and not Ms. Lane.
“I-I can't.” I felt disoriented, like someone spun me around in a circle too many times. First the audition and now Bastien getting replaced like a tie for the wrong function... How had everything fallen apart so completely? “I don't even like Jonathan.”
“That hardly even matters, Olivia. Now, off you go.” My father shooed me away with one hand and resumed walking to the study.
My life was an extension of the Delvin Ward persona, and every situation would be carefully manipulated. My father was ruthlessly efficient, I thought spitefully as Albert ushered me out to the waiting limo.
I looked out over the limo, down the long driveway. None of it felt real. I was in a play, acting out a predestined part. I was Juliet, Paris was in the limo and my Romeo was nowhere to be found.
“Hey there, Olivia.” Jonathan opened the door with a wink.
Albert politely, yet insistently, helped me into the back seat, then closed the door. A hopelessness welled up within me. I sat as far away from Jonathan as the car would allow, but that didn't deter Jonathan. He got up, sat next to me, and placed a hand on my knee. My nausea returned, but this time I wasn't giddy with excitement.
Where are you Bastien?
The driver started the engine and began pulling away. I didn't feel much like a princess anymore.
Then I heard the rumbling of an engine speeding toward us. Bastien's truck screamed up the long driveway and slid to a stop right in front of the limo, blocking it from going any further. Even through the limo's tinted window, I could see Bastien's eyes burning when he stepped out of the truck.
My knight had finally arrived.
And he was angry.
Present
Bastien drove us onto the gated lot and up to the studio. I was jittery, and could barely sit still the whole ride. This morning the director asked me to come in for a second audition.
“You ready for this one?” Bastien asked, putting his car into park and looking over at me. His hand slid across my upper thigh, making filthy promises. This, whatever it was that we had, was crazy and way too much fun. “If not, I'm sure I can get you back into the mood.”
That sounded so damn tempting.
Bastien had rented the same make and model car he had back home. I thought it was silly at first, but the more time I spent in it with the roar of the engine and him banging through the gears made me want slide onto his lap and ride him until my eyes crossed.
I quickly glanced around the parking lot. It was mi
d-morning and there were people everywhere. I bit my lip and grabbed his hand, rubbing it over the crotch of my pants. “Rain check.”
“This is the city of flowers and sunshine, Olivia.” His hand wouldn't budge when I tried to get up. His eyes burned into me as his fingers pushed against my pussy. I could feel myself getting wet. “Your rain check's no good here.”
“Bastien!” My eyes flared at him, Oh my God, you're incorrigible! But I loved that about him. He still wouldn't budge, now moving his fingers over my lower lips in tight circles.
“You shouldn't have played with fire.” Bastien looked firm and uncaring. No hint of a smile on his lips. “You're gonna have to beg now.”
“Please, let me go.” I drew in long ragged breaths. It was hard to argue against a touch I wanted so badly.
He held me there for a short eternity, then slid his hand away and let me escape. I opened the door as quickly as I could for some fresh air. Even with the air conditioner on, Bastien made it extremely hot in that car.
Two black Escalades pulled in near us, blocking a full row of handicapped spots. Almost a dozen people funneled out of the vehicles and made their way toward the studio entrance.
I wasn't all that surprised by the douchey display, a lot of the 'A' list celebs had a crew of people orbiting around them everywhere they went. Whoever this was, they had a personal trainer, hair and make up stylists, a nutritionist, bodyguards, and assistants all hanging around. I'd never seen an actor's crew this big before.
“One side,” a shorter guy announced to no one. That was probably his job in the crew. He looked like he was just an old friend that was along for the free ride. “Phil C, coming through!”
“Oh for fuck's sake,” Bastien groaned under his breath, probably viewing all this as unnecessary and self-flattering.
At some point during the insane display of power and lifestyle, Bastien had materialized beside me. He was still in crazy protector mode since what had happened. I, of course, poked fun at him because of it when he went overboard on occasion, but honestly, he did make me feel much safer.
