Savage: Unapologetic

by Pamela Ann

  There was nothing I could do. And since I was new to the movie world, I didn’t want to push my luck. “You’re more than welcome to come back here with me if you can.” River would like it here, if he could spare time.

  “I wish it was that easy. There’s something to do each day. This mini European tour will be the death of me. If I’m not performing, I have to do interview after interview. I don’t know what else I have to say that the media doesn’t know, but hey, who am I to complain?” And just like that, River’s sour mood lifted once again.

  He wasn’t one to dwell on negativity, liking positivity and surrounding himself with likeminded folks. Though sometimes I wondered why he chose me since I could be Miss Negativity most days.

  My train of thought suddenly halted when I heard people yelling something about a missing prop outside my trailer. Hearing the crew brought me back to the present and what awaited me in less than an hour’s time. I was sure Juan was doing something peculiar, since none of this fazed him. Unlike Miss Newbie here, tied with nerves, hiding in her trailer, dressed in a robe, waiting for that definitive knock telling me it’s hoo-ha show time.

  “Listen, babe, I’ll call you when I get back to my room. I gotta go.”

  As much as I dreaded the impending scene, I had to clear my head and commit my lines to memory. And speaking to River would curtail the small amount of time I was given.

  “All right, I gotta hit the shower, anyway. Love and miss you; do remember that when you get a chance.”

  My heart skipped a beat. This man really knew how to put a smile on my face. “I wouldn’t dream of not remembering you, River Ellis. You’re always with me, and I love you truly, madly, crazy.”

  My physical attraction with Juan meant nothing.

  This—what I had with River—was all that mattered.

  After my call ended with him, I scanned through my lines for the umpteenth time. I knew each word, each expression I was set to depict, but for some reason, all I could see was Juan’s naked body.

  For a few days straight, he’d been sporting his colorful collection of swim shorts, which my stupid head dubbed as nut huggers. I had a fair idea of what he already looked like without those on.

  The building anticipation was suffocating and vomit-inducing. A good dose of Xanax would be nice about now, but alas, I didn’t have any. Nor have I ever tried it. Now I sympathized why some folks needed the extra help.

  Why am I really making a fuss out of this? People are naked all the time. Who cares if Juan will see everything up close and personal? You signed on this film, knowing what’s expected of you; own up to it.

  No matter how much I tried to console my inner demons, it was to no avail. My palms began to feel clammy. My heart thumped at a speedy rate. My body felt as though it was shot with adrenaline. I was an epic mess. I would have chewed on my nails, too, but they were newly done two hours ago, and I didn’t want to cause the kind-hearted Spanish lady any problem. And for the life of me, I prayed for a moment of reprieve from the riotous upheaval I was going through.

  My eyes accusingly glared at the Styrofoam coffee cup sitting on the matte table, partially blaming it for my severe stress.

  I had taken a bath, polishing and scrubbing every inch of my body. I had incessantly brushed my teeth three times and gargled about every thirty minutes or so. They did say first expression lasts, and I intended for my first onscreen kiss with Juan to be faultless.

  I was restless, pacing to and fro in the little space of my trailer, until it was time to come out of my hiding. From that moment on, I shut my mind off and thought of Andy Fuller and how passionately she felt for Enrique, her ex-husband’s brother. And how after her bitter divorce, she never thought he’d be the man who could make her blood run so hot like Enrique had aroused from her.

  Upon entering the small threshold of the Spanish colonial bungalow Andy was renting for the next few months, I was immediately greeted by Cora and a few crewmembers. They then led me to the living room where everything was to take place. And there was Juan, joking around with the cameramen as he drank a glass of something alcoholic in his other hand. His eyes zoomed in on me the moment I came into view.

  I swallowed what little saliva I had left before I disengaged from his feral gaze. If my heart sped any faster, I’d have a heart attack.

  Lock it down, Cara, I tried to reprimand myself to no avail.

  My senses seized me as I tried to appear unfazed while an unnamed woman made sure my hair was primed for the shoot. There was another who retouched the bronzer around my breast area, making sure that everything would be enticing to the man who was about to seduce me.

  I thought I had a grip on my angst, but the second I saw Juan stride towards me with that untamed expression on his face, I immediately became out of breath.

  Why was I reacting like some unexperienced virgin? This isn’t real, you idiot! Get that through your head, for fuck’s sake, before you embarrass yourself!

  “Are you feeling okay? You look more than nervous,” Juan whispered close to me the second the ladies wandered off.

  I wasn’t naked yet, but with only a terry robe to cover my decency, his untamed look made me feel as though I were already naked, standing next to him, exposed to his savage scrutiny. It was in the way he was looking at me, as if it was already caressing me. Not only did I find that disconcerting, I was also taken aback by my body’s unashamed response. It was doing things to me, things I didn’t deem to name.

  I began to frown, drawing my attention elsewhere, concentrating my sight on the lighting crew. I licked my lips as I severely shook my head in denial.

  “I’m fine. I just got off a call … This long-distance thing isn’t working for us.” There was immense truth to my statement, but it wasn’t the reason I appeared the way I did. However, I wasn’t going to openly admit how Juan affected me and the terrifying way my body responded to his come-hither eyes.

  Juan shrugged with pure insouciance. “That’s why I don’t deal with relationships at my age—they don’t last. Best to have fun while you’re young. You can tie yourself down later on.”

  I was about to whip a retort when Martin and Joshua entered the living room, making everyone who wasn’t meant to be in the area when the camera rolled disperses in no time. Nude scenes were limited to a number of people. Within seconds, there were six people left in the cozy section, excluding Juan and I.

  The small space intonated intimacy. The lighting made it look like the room was cast aglow with sunset. The rich colors of the divan and the Arabian Night’s themed room surely was a prime setting for slow seduction. It smelled illicit. Torrid. Sex.

  Fuck. Me.

  A shudder ran through my body as my pussy tightened. I was outraged at the effect it had on me.

  Hands down, the crew did spectacularly well. My senses were seduced just as they had intended.

  Joshua was busy speaking to Juan while Martin came to where I stayed uprooted, obediently waiting for further instructions.

  “Cara, I need you to slowly come to him from the other end of the room while holding the wine glasses.” Martin went into full director mode before he watched me nod in confirmation. “Juan’s going to be on the divan, and Andy’s thirsty for love, for passion, and can’t wait to have her ex-brother-in-law possess her. I need you to look at him with unadulterated hunger. You’ve secretly been hankering for him for seven years and now you have him. He’s in your house. He wants you. Come to him, not as the woman he used to know—his brother’s wife—but come to him as a new woman with carnal yearning that only he can satiate. Beg with your eyes. Give it a little sass, more sex and attitude. I need fire, burning the house down fire. I want you to light up the screen. Leave us in awe. Seduce us, bewitch us, Cara.”

  “Got it,” I quickly replied. “Got it,” I muttered more to myself as Martin gave me an approving smile before he went over to Juan to go over the scene with him for the last time.

  Once the directors pulled away from the ma
in set and went behind the shadows, joining the four-man crew, I knew we were minutes away from show time.

  My breathing became ragged. Adrenaline coursed through me. Strung high, wildly pumping through my veins. I tilted my head to look at Juan. And just then, the man disrobed, showcasing the tiny nude stretchy material that hid his jewels. My eyes wouldn’t pull away as I noticed how the tiny scrap barely covered his manhood. It looked as though it was about to combust out of it. Like it was being choked and it couldn’t bloody breathe.

  Shaking my head as I reluctantly dragged my eyes away from his impressiveness, my hands slightly quivered as my fingers began to untangle the knot that secured my almost nakedness. While the male counterpart had their itsy-bitsy coverage, I didn’t have any, so when it was time for me to slide my silk robe off my body, I steeled myself within, shoving my physical and mental insecurities aside. I successfully emerged as Andy, channeling the character that was about to be ravished.

  Uno…

  Dos…

  Tres…

  Acción.

  Full into character mode, my heart rammed against my breast as I slowly poured the wine from across the room. I took my time filling one azure glass, then the other. My provocative movements were leisured and paced. Intentional.

  I could feel the heat of his eyes following every movement I made. The intensity told me he was studying the dips and arches of my back, the suppleness and curves of my ass, and he was pleased with my bare display. He loved watching me just as he did when he randomly spotted me in a club two weeks before. A happenstance, it seemed.

  He’d craved to taste me for years. In those strenuous years, the hunger hadn’t dissipated; it had thrived like a good, aged wine. The longer the wait, the better the taste. My body would be that wine, his to savor, his to devour until he quenched the thirst he had curbed for years.

  I meant to take it slow given our history. But tonight, something had broken that barrier. Our resistance challenged. And I was ready to reward him.

  Maybe it was the way his fevered kisses left me wanton and wanting. Or the way his roughened hands would desperately seek the wet softness between my legs. Whatever it was, Enrique was ready to take his prize—me, all of me.

  “Ven a mi.” Come to me, he commanded without softness, yet it was gruff. Full of promise. Three words. Enough to depict his teetering hunger.

  He only spoke to me in Spanish, and on occasion, English when it was necessary. Most of the time, he spoke to me in his native tongue. A seductive tone. A lover’s promise. My grip on the language wasn’t masterful, but I understood enough.

  “Tan hermosa, mi tesoro.” So beautiful, my treasure.

  Nonchalantly holding both azure goblets, I spun around, barefoot, ready to face my soon-to-be lover as I sashayed towards him with my long slip of a dress. My lips slightly parted as my hips made quite an emphasis with each step I took. My breasts high and pert, slowly hardening at the sight of him fully aroused like a lounging emperor waiting for life’s ultimate pleasures bestowed on him. Blush tinted my cheeks as I felt the moisture creeping down between my thighs when I imagined how he would fit … and how he would feel plundering my depths.

  The second I reached him, he unhurriedly stood up, and instead of taking his glass from my hand, he audaciously dipped his middle finger in the wine as dark pools steadily eyed me, holding my gaze as he slid his wine-coated finger under the silk and erotically smeared my nipple with the burgundy liquid in a slow, circular motion. He took his time, holding my gaze, as he granted the same respect to my other breast.

  Steady, keep steady.

  I moaned as I ravenously gazed at him through my lashes. He did the same gesture with his wine-coated finger dipping below my nether region. I whimpered when that notorious digit sought the wet crevice between my thighs.

  Although this didn’t actually happen in reality, his finger hovered close enough to where it was sensitive for me. A quarter of an inch from where my pussy slit began. I unconsciously clenched my vaginal muscles so I could endure his inquisitive examination of my body.

  From there, it was my turn to explore his body, touching, feeling until he couldn’t take it anymore and had to take charge. And in no time, he had me on the divan, whispering Spanish words of sweet nothings against my skin.

  I writhed and moaned underneath his body. He kissed peaks and curves, torturing me with his mouth, his lips, until it was almost unbearable.

  When I didn’t think I could handle another second of his sweet torture, Juan situated between my thighs and pretended to have hard, rough, raunchy sex with me. Even though his aroused member was socked and covered, it didn’t stop it from randomly brushing against my sensitized clitoris. And each time it did, the impact was beyond arousing, resulting in my pussy becoming drenched. I let out a guttural moan while my body quivered from the friction, my nipples rubbing against his pectoral muscles …

  The charged scene took about an hour to finish. Then I immediately excused myself. Quite shaken, I was troubled by my reactions. I hadn’t been faking it. It had been real. As real as it could get for me.

  Disconcerted and feeling all sorts of emotions ranging from diabolical to guilt, I shut myself in my trailer before I haphazardly changed into my clothes. I didn’t want to run into Juan.

  Seven scenes. One down. Six more to go.

  Fuck. Me. Sideways.

  If I could barely get through with one almost orgasm on screen, how the hell would I handle six more? The answer, I didn’t want to ponder.

  It took me less than ten minutes before I emerged from the trailer. I was too distraught to notice that someone was standing a few feet away, biding for the right moment to violate my thoughts.

  “You look mad,” Juan quietly observed me. He didn’t move from his spot, as though he feared I was going to lash out on him or something along those lines.

  He wasn’t an idiot. He knew I had been just as aroused as he had. He had also seen my horrified expression after the scene ended and I ran out of there as if Satan himself was chasing after me.

  From where we stood, we could see the crew going in and out of the house. We were far enough not to be heard.

  Sheen of sweat coated my forehead as I stared at him, deadpan. “It’s a first for me, so I didn’t know what to expect, and clearly, I didn’t expect that.”

  “There’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s normal. I’d start to worry if it didn’t affect you.” A corner of his upper lip lifted as if he tried not to smile.

  I glared at him. Hard. “This isn’t funny.” This wasn’t the time to make a mockery of things, most especially when it entailed my sanity and the state of my relationship with River. How could I fathom telling him the truth? He would be too offended that he mightn’t ever ask, but still … I’d know.

  “And I’m not laughing, Cara. You’ll get used to it. Trust me; after the second, third, fourth, we’d probably laugh this off.” His expression suggested otherwise.

  Even from a distance, I could feel those eyes on me like an x-ray. They seared me from within, as if he was still gazing at my bare flesh, feasting on me. Nothing could be hidden from those dark depths, and I thought this was intentional. He was making me hyperaware of him.

  A pang clutched around my heart, a sensation that momentarily gripped me as my mind did a hasty rundown of possible scenarios this could lead to, none of them good.

  The only way I could avoid this was to run the other way, just as it should be.

  Soft wind blew past us, sending goose bumps around my arms even though the summer heat still lingered. Glancing at his determined face, I waited to steady my breath before I addressed him with cool detachment.

  “Have a good night, Juan. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I began to walk away without looking at him, and just when I went past his stoic form, he bid me goodnight.

  “Buenas noches, cariña.”

  Sweetheart. His use of endearment made things worse. It was as if he was telling me that I was somewhat his.
>
  Tomorrow was another day. Another sex scene.

  Though I trusted my heart, my body, on the other hand, after today’s aftermath, not so much.

  God help me slay the demons that were closing in on me … fast.

  Chapter Fourteen

  What did I really expect after that madness? Some renewed enlightenment or a body transformation, perhaps? No, I think not.

  It was one thing to envision it, but another to experience it. Had I fathomed how visceral the interaction could get, I might’ve taken a moment to consider the consequences of partaking in such a raw film.

  Endure became my mantra.

  When the two more scenes rolled out in the next two weeks, my body’s treacherous responses remained the same—lurid and lascivious. At times, it became unbearable to control.

  The only consolation was how Juan didn’t mind as much, since he, too, walked away with a burgeoning hard-on after each session. I sincerely thought there wouldn’t be any jokes anytime soon—his little pun was null and void. Not with how things were unfolding. The onscreen chemistry was off the charts. It simmered off-screen, too, slowly seizing us.

  It became painstakingly obvious how our chemistry was becoming a hindrance to our blossoming friendship. Our conversations became strained, mostly on my part. However, I did try to be civilized when I was around him. It was petty since he wasn’t at fault. Regardless, I’d rather play it safe. Too much was at stake, and I wasn’t willing to risk any “accidents” from happening.

  Though he hadn’t tried anything with me, his eyes foretold too much. On several occasions, I caught him looking at me with that wild look about him when he thought I wasn’t paying attention.

  Juan was mistaken if he thought I hadn’t noticed those lingering, unadulterated stares. I noted everything, and how dangerous this whole thing was becoming. Amidst it all, we somehow began to gravitate towards one another. He was drawn to me, that much was certain. It was one of the main reasons my guard was always drawn whenever he was close. There were too many sparks flying between us.