by Alice Raine
Attempting to distract myself from this bout of melancholy, I placed my mug on a nearby coffee table and contented myself by looking through Sean’s extensive DVD collection to find something to help my day pass. Seeing as it was Christmas Day tomorrow I wondered if I could get a little more into the spirt with a nice Christmas film – not that I expected him to own any.
From his domineering personality and outdoorsy vibe I had thought Sean would be an action movie fan, or perhaps into horrors, but as I looked across the titles I was actually quite impressed by the range of genres he owned: everything from off the wall art-house productions to black and white classics and modern day blockbusters. All alphabetically ordered too, Mr Control obviously liked his house as well ordered as his parking arrangements, I thought with a smirk.
Picking cases out at random to inspect the covers, I made sure to carefully insert them back in the exact same spots I’d found them – no point giving him something else to get moody about. One caught my eye and I re-examined the cover to see what had taken my interest. Shooting Point, an old Hollywood blockbuster from when I was a teenager. At the time, all my friends had raved about it, but I’d never been much of a movie buff growing up, being much happier out on my bike, and so I’d never got round to watching it. I quite liked a good action flick nowadays though, so maybe I could watch this today. However, as I flipped the box over in my palm and gazed at the glossy cover again, my eyes narrowed, blinked, and widened as something suddenly dawned on me that had me slapping a hand over my mouth in shock.
Dropping the DVD as if it had burnt me, I stared at it in horror as I tried to take in what I’d just realised. Oh my God, I was such a bloody idiot!
‘I wouldn’t bother with that one, it’s not one of my best,’ drawled a voice from the back of the room, causing me to yelp and spin around to see Sean just inside the doorway. He was leaning on the wall with one hand tucked in the pocket of his grey jeans, the other holding a plate of toast slathered in jam – presumably my abandoned breakfast – and his feet crossed at the ankles. All in all he looked cool, calm, and sexy as hell as he watched me with vague amusement twinkling in his dark blue eyes.
Holding up the plate of toast, he raised his eyebrows and put it on the table next to my coffee. ‘You skipped dinner last night, make sure you eat this.’ I briefly wondered how he knew I hadn’t eaten after our interlude in the kitchen, but my mind was still going loopy from the information I had learnt from the DVD residing on the floor by my feet. Glancing at the box again I felt a bit sick, and blew out a huge breath to try and clear my reeling mind.
I had just discovered this huge bombshell and he was calmly talking about food? Now? Seriously? Toast really was no longer my main concern, I was officially entering full meltdown mode. My cheeks were burning, my heart pounding under my skin, and my head felt woozy, which, all in all, was making my entire body decidedly unsteady.
‘I … I can’t believe I didn’t recognise you …’ My eyes flicked back to the DVD box again as I bent to retrieve it from the floor with a trembling hand. I cringed – it really was him. Although admittedly looking far younger and with much longer hair that reached down to his jaw line. ‘You’re Sean Phillips … as in the Sean Phillips,’ I said, waving the DVD case that had his face plastered all over the cover. ‘I knew you looked familiar …’ But my voice faded off as I stared at the image on the box feeling like a complete idiot.
I was literally in the presence of Hollywood royalty, and I could barely believe it. His face had been plastered everywhere when I was younger, he had been the guy of the moment back then, alongside the other greats like Leonardo DiCaprio and Matt Damon. Blimey.
I didn’t keep up with celebrity gossip like some of my friends, but Sean had certainly seemed to fade from the public eye. I hadn’t seen any recent films with him in, that was for sure. Maybe that explained why I hadn’t recognised him. That and the drastic haircut, of course, because he’d had long hair in every film I’d ever seen him in. Although I had to say, this new cropped look was far more my cup of tea.
‘You’ve cut your hair,’ I murmured accusingly, my eyes cast downward. A small chuckle floated across from him and my head snapped up at the sound, but any smile that might have been on Sean’s lips was now gone.
‘Yeah, I shaved it all off about ten years ago. I got older too,’ he remarked dryly, his sarcasm making me feel even more ridiculous.
He was the real deal, a hugely successful actor known around the world, and I was standing right here in front of him. He’d been nominated for Oscars when he was younger, for God’s sake – what had I ever been nominated for? Best playground games supervisor?
‘I haven’t seen you in any films recently,’ I murmured, as if trying to give an excuse why I hadn’t immediately fallen at his feet when we’d first met.
‘No. I took a career break for a while,’ he said, his voice almost sharp and making me frown in surprise.
‘Oh. Why?’ If I’d been as famous as he had when I was younger I would have ridden the celebrity wave for as long as possible.
‘I …’ Sean started his sentence, then stopped immediately and closed his eyes tightly. Pausing for a moment he then reopened them and looked away from me. ‘I just needed the time out,’ he said in a flat tone that made it very clear he didn’t wish to continue with that line of questioning. ‘It turned into a longer break than I’d planned, but I’m back now, mostly doing television stuff in the US. Turning his eyes to me, he blinked as if clearing some unpleasant thought from his mind. ‘Have you heard of LA Blue? That’s what I’m in at the moment. Kind of my comeback role, I guess.’
LA Blue. Frowning, I racked my brain about why that name sounded familiar, and then realised – I’d read an article about it just last month when I was in the hairdresser’s. If memory served me correctly, then it was a police drama that was hitting the big time. Critics were describing it as ‘one of the best dramas to ever grace the small screen’, but I hadn’t got to finish the article because I’d been called for my appointment. I hadn’t even read enough to seen Sean’s name mentioned, but I really bloody wished I had now.
‘Uh, yes. I haven’t seen it though.’ Immediately realising that that might sound quite a bit like a snub, I winced. ‘I, uh, I didn’t know you were in it.’ Gah! What was I saying? That was even worse – now I sounded like some stalker saying that I would have watched it if I’d known he was in it! God, since I’d found out who he was, every single thing that was coming out of my mouth sounded completely lame.
Nodding slightly he shrugged, looking uncomfortable. ‘Yeah, it’s in its third series now and going really well, but at the moment it’s only on in the States. A British channel has just bought the rights though, so it should be on over here by the summer.’ Surprisingly he didn’t sound at all like he was boasting, instead coming off rather modest, which I liked a great deal.
This was so surreal. My shock was muted slightly when the realisation that I had slept with him came back to me as though a bucket of ice water had been thrown over me. Me and Sean Phillips, movie star and all round Hollywood heartthrob had fucked like bunnies on his sparkly kitchen counter. I was so in shock that I nearly laughed hysterically. More precisely, he’d held me down, eased my legs apart, and had his wicked way with me, but still, I had been an active, if somewhat restrained, participant.
Cait was going to go mental when I told her, and as I came to terms with the fact that this really was happening, that I really had slept with the Sean Phillips, I had to try my hardest not to grin. He’d been a proper pin-up boy – even I’d had a picture of him on my wall for a while. Even with him not being in many films recently I’d place money on the fact that women everywhere still remembered and wanted him to grace their beds. And I’d slept with him. Twice. If the unfinished business on his desk could be counted, which in my books it definitely could – well, there was penetration, wasn’t there? Albeit brief, it definitely made it an official shag in my mind.
As my glee settled back to normal levels again, I risked a quick glance at him and suddenly felt like a complete idiot. How on earth had I not recognised him? I thought back to our first meeting and recalled that vague sense of recognition, but I supposed seeing him in his house, half-dressed, and out of context I just hadn’t made the connection.
A small, amused grunt rose in my throat – who was I kidding? I’d been too busy ogling his fine chest to really give his face too much focus – that was why I hadn’t recognised him. But as I gazed at his handsome face again now it was screamingly obvious who he was.
There was a long silence between us as I fidgeted nervously on the spot and Sean did his usual of just standing there and staring at me. ‘It was actually quite refreshing that you didn’t know me,’ he said quietly, watching me carefully as I turned back to him fully. ‘You weren’t judgemental about me.’
Judgemental about what? I had no idea what he was talking about, but any temptation I might have had to ask was knocked from me by the serious expression on his face. A frown flickered on his brow as he continued to observe me, before a hint of a smile finally tweaked on his lips, causing my eyebrows to rise and pull my heartrate with them. I couldn’t believe it – after days of constant scowling he had nearly smiled! But as I searched his face for that lovely expression again it was gone, almost too soon to even register, and I realised it was the happiest I’d seen him. He’d hardly even smiled when he’d been doing ridiculously naughty things to me, but I’d known he’d been happy then – or at least enjoying himself – from the appreciative noises and statements he’d made.
As we continued to stand there in silence staring at each other – again – I began to find this whole situation incredibly awkward. My face felt so flushed that I was surely glowing by now, and to top it off I had no clue what to say to him – not that I’d really known what to say to him before I’d found out who he was, but still. Sean flipping Phillips?
The knowledge of his identity was making my brain hurt as I tried to work out how to progress from this, but before I’d had a chance to come to any conclusions, I watched with rapt fascination as Sean pushed away from the wall and quickly closed the distance between us with large, leisurely steps of those long, long legs.
Swallowing loudly, I licked my lips nervously as I remained frozen to the spot and watched his advance, completely unable to do anything other than stare at him. Even the way he walked was sexy; that confident, cocksure stride making me want to tackle him onto the carpet and mount him there and then.
Tucking his hands in the pockets of his jeans, he then leant forwards, closing the gap between us further so his upper chest and head were just centimetres away. My nose was invaded with a full hit of his smoky spiciness as I breathed in, which, combined with his closeness, made a small gasp fly from my lips. I didn’t know if it was one of shock or arousal, but to make sure I didn’t do it again I held my breath, unsure what to expect from him and clutching the DVD to my chest as if my life depended on it.
He certainly seemed to have a thing about personal space – or more specifically, a distinct disregard for it – because Sean was now standing so close that I could clearly see every colour in his eyes – deep navy flecked with just a few traces of green and hazel that seemed to dance in the dark depths of his irises – edged with long, dark lashes that most women would be envious of. Perhaps it was his eyes that drew me to him so strongly, because they really were beautiful.
This close, I could also see some small creases on his forehead and between his eyebrows – frown lines, no doubt, which given how much he scowled, really wasn’t a surprise. Talk about hypnotic; he was so stunning that I just couldn’t look away. In fact, I could quite happily stand there all day absorbing his appearance. It wouldn’t even seem like a tiresome task if I were asked to count each individual bristle on his gorgeous stubbly chin.
‘You used the hair dryer,’ Sean commented quietly, breaking the silence as he lifted a hand and took a small section of hair between his finger and thumb before trailing it loosely through his fingers and nodding approvingly. I’d always loved the sensation of my hair being touched, and my eyes briefly fluttered shut as tingles scattered across my scalp. ‘I’m glad. I don’t want you catching a chill.’
How oddly observant of him, and quite a caring statement from someone who had, by now, shagged and deserted me twice. As we stood in our silent bubble, our eyes locked and breaths mingling, it felt exactly like his gaze was burning into me. Like he was able to see each and every thought in my mind, and absorb the feelings that he provoked in me. It was at once both incredibly thrilling and unnerving, but I just couldn’t look away.
I wondered if his silence was almost his way of daring me to say something, but I couldn’t speak. My throat was a useless bunch of clogged-up nervousness, and on top of that I was too busy trying not to tremble from the arousal flowing through my system and thumping between my legs.
Much like earlier, Sean parted his lips as if he were going to say something, before hesitating for a second, narrowing his eyes, and promptly snapping his mouth shut again. Closing his eyes for a second, he pursed his lips as if weighing something up in his head, before he rolled his neck with an audible click, released a long sigh, and reached around me, brushing against my shoulder and causing me to draw in a small rush of air.
‘Try this one, it’s an oldie, but it was bigger budget, more exciting,’ Sean said blandly, holding out a DVD that he had just plucked from the shelf. Numbly, I took it from him, my brain beginning to shut down in disappointment. Every single fibre in my being told me that this man was trouble, dangerous not only to my body and its inability to refuse him, but to my heart as well. Yet, regardless of this belief, I had found myself hoping that he was going to touch me again, kiss me. But instead of being dragged into his arms and ravished to within an inch of my life, I had been handed a bloody DVD.
‘Thanks,’ I murmured huskily, but Sean had already turned and was leaving the room. His broad shoulders once again seemed to bristle with tension as he disappeared through the doorway and towards the hall. My lungs deflated in a rushed breath as I once again got some breathing room. Wow, he really was seriously uptight. Maybe I should recommend my yoga group to him, because he could certainly use some loosening up. Mind you, talk about loosening up – I should take a few moments to do that myself because after yet another encounter with Sean that positively seemed to tingle with sexual tension, I was feeling pretty wound up.
After recovering for a few seconds, I gave my body an all-over shake and turned towards the DVD player to load the disc. Watching Sean in a film probably wasn’t going to help my lusty fangirl obsession with him one little bit, but seeing as he’d selected the movie, it would look rude if I didn’t at least watch it. At least that’s what I told myself, anyway.
Taking the remote control with me I settled back on the comfy sofa and looked at the plate of toast on the table as my stomach grumbled hungrily. I still couldn’t quite believe that Sean had made me breakfast. Sean Phillips, movie star and all round famous person had made me toast. It was the most bizarre thought in the world. After giving a disbelieving shake of my head I obediently began to munch on a slice while I waited for the film to start. It had gone cold and crunchy by now, but the jam was excellent and I was so hungry that it didn’t bother me in the slightest.
After just five minutes the toast had been demolished, and I was sitting practically drooling over Sean in all his sexy, action-hero, widescreen glory. God, he was so attractive. I’d honestly never felt the pull of raw physical attraction before, but with Sean it was almost like he sparked some primal desire in me to give myself over to his will. That recognition partly annoyed my independent side, but also turned me on so much that I had to force images of him and his domineering ways from my head and cross my legs to ease the neediness there.
In an attempt to distract my mind from the glorious images on the TV screen – Sean toting a pair of hand guns while topless, ta
nned, and wearing only a rain-soaked pair of combat trousers that clung to his hips a little too well – I wandered across to the router and saw, to my delight, that the password was stuck to the side on a Post-it note.
Pausing the film, I dashed to my room to grab my laptop, jogged back downstairs, booted it up, and continued to watch while surfing the internet. After briefly checking my Facebook and replying to a couple of emails, my fingers sought out Google and before I knew it, I had typed in Sean’s name. Rolling my eyes, I scrunched up my face in annoyance at my pathetic weakness where it came to him. So perhaps my laptop wouldn’t be quite the distraction from Sean that I had first thought.
Pulling up the Wikipedia page on him I learnt that Sean had become famous while still young, starting off in television commercials as a teenager, but had quickly been scouted and signed up to act in many films during his early twenties. That part I had known. After that the article went on to say he’d had a significant career break, which the page simply described as ‘A ten-year absence from the industry due to personal reasons’. Narrowing my eyes, I searched for a link that might give me more information than that, but there wasn’t one. A ten year break was pretty long. And for personal reasons? That certainly made me curious. Pushing aside my quest for gossip I continued to read a new section which had been added to the page three years ago, stating that Sean was back on the circuit and acting again, but this time focusing on television roles.
But what I really wanted to know about was his personal life. Which I knew was stupid, and asking for trouble, but I couldn’t help myself from wondering about the man behind the fame. I’d slept with the guy and was inexplicably drawn to him, so regardless of whether it was sensible to indulge my curiosity or not, the temptation to trawl the internet for information about him was just too great to ignore. Besides, I might learn something that would make the remainder of my stay here more tolerable. His temperament, for example. Was he a miserable sod all the time or just when I was around?
