“Pierce Whitley is an award-winning actor. He’s won two Emmys, three Golden Globes, and Best Supporting Actor at the Oscars last year. He can do it again for you. Call me back when you can offer fifty—”
“Wait, wait, wait, don’t hang up.” I lowered my forehead to the wall, my brain spinning. “Pierce Whitley doesn’t want another Best Supporting Actor nod,” I said, carefully.
Roxanne snorted. “The hell he doesn’t—”
“Hear me out. He wants a Best Actor Academy Award. It’s time for him to step out of the shadow of other actors. To break out from the sidekick role and earn his starring role.”
She paused. “I’m listening.”
“If Pierce takes this role, then he can have his pick of my next scripts. Any of the leading roles are his to choose. And if he wins Best Supporting Actor at the Oscars for this role, I can get him that extra twenty-five percent bonus, bringing him up to that fifty percent pay increase.” I needed to get clearance from Richard for both those options, but I was ninety-nine percent sure he’d be on board.
Silence. I waited with bated breath, facing the back window of my trailer once more. Lucy was gone from the open wardrobe tent. Extras in costume milled around and I saw Kelly come out from somewhere in the back, Marly following behind her, dressed in casual wear.
“I’ll consult with Pierce and get back to you,” she said.
“Level with me, Roxanne… will he go for it?”
“I don’t know for sure. It’s a good offer, though. But you know how actors are… especially when they’re butthurt about not getting a role.”
I grinned and did a silent fist pump into the air. Oh, he would take it. That’s a good fucking deal and one I could guarantee no European film was offering him, if there even was a European film. “You let me know as soon as you can.” Now I just needed to get Richard on board.
We each hung up and I jumped into the air, doing a little Michael Jackson spin, and came face to face with Lucy standing in the doorway of my trailer, staring at me.
I yelped, way more high-pitched than I wish she’d heard. “Lucy,” I shouted and tossed my phone onto my couch.
“Sorry!” She held out a hand and even though her mouth twisted into a regretful expression, her eyes sparked. “The door was left ajar and I was sent to tell you the extras and stand-ins are ready for you.”
Fuck me. She looked gorgeous. I couldn’t stop staring at her big, brown eyes or plump, pink lips and the way her gaze stayed down on the floor as she sheepishly edged her toe along the seam of the carpet. I took a few steps toward her and froze, stopping myself when I was just a foot away.
“You got home okay last night?” she asked.
I nodded. “I did.”
“Me too.” She rolled her eyes in spite of herself. “I mean, duh. You knew that. But I… got inside okay.” A wisp of hair slipped free of her ponytail and fell across her razor-sharp cheekbone. My fingers twitched, aching to brush it back; to feel that silken skin beneath my touch; to wrap that hair around my fist and yank her head back before I ravaged her mouth with my tongue.
“Good,” I whispered, and took another step closer.
She swallowed and her pink tongue darted out, swiping nervously across those full, pouty lips in a way that drove me wild. But she wasn’t doing it to be sexy—it was unassuming, which only made it that much more enticing. “I mean, I didn’t sleep all that well. Nerves maybe. I hate leaving things unsaid and then it’s awkward—”
A smile curved my mouth as I swallowed a chuckle. She was so damn cute. The nervous babbling, the way she pushed her glasses higher when she didn’t know what to do with her hands, it was all so adorably sexy.
Her eyes widened. “Are you laughing at me?” she asked, incredulous.
“Of course not.” I shook my head, but couldn’t help it when the snort of laughter escaped.
Her mouth gaped. “You are. You’re totally laughing at me!” She reached out and smacked my shoulder.
I didn’t hold back the laughter this time, and when she moved to smack me again, I caught her wrist gently. “You talk a lot when you’re nervous, you know that?”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah. In my twenty-two years alive, no one’s ever told me that.”
Twenty-two. Fuck me. She was only twenty-two? On top of the litany of other reasons to stay at arm’s length from Lucy, our age gap was among the top. My laughter faded and what was left was a thick silence between us, my hand still resting on her wrist.
I moved my thumb, stroking in quick, soft movements and watched as her breath hitched, shifting her breasts with the movement. Two pebbled nubs formed from beneath her white shirt, and I hissed a breath, desperately wanting to lower my face and draw those nipples into my mouth through the thin layer of cotton.
“Ash,” she said, blinking slowly up at me. “What happened last night?”
I leaned closer, my groin tightening. “I got too into my own head,” I answered, intentionally vague. “It happens a lot to me,” I admitted.
She nodded as though she understood. But how could she? I barely understood myself. Then with a sigh, she shook her head. “I can’t do this,” she whispered. “This hot and cold thing. It’s too—it’s just too similar to another situation I was in.”
My blood ran cold. Another situation. Another boyfriend? Another lover? What the fuck did she mean by that? But I couldn’t blame her. She was right—it wasn’t fair to her. We needed to keep our distance.
So then, why the fuck couldn’t I stop stroking her wrist? Why couldn’t I let go? And why did I find myself inexplicably drawing closer and closer to her mouth.
“So… friends?” I asked.
She nodded. Our words said friends, but the way our eyes locked, and the molecules around us buzzed with energy, said something else entirely.
“Friends,” she repeated.
The walkie talkie on her hip buzzed and Kelly’s voice cut through our silence. “Lucy, where the fuck are you guys? Do I have to do everything myself?”
I cleared my throat and stepped back. It was just the sobering wake up call we both needed to snap out of it. Lucy snatched the walkie talkie and spoke into it, “We’re coming out in a second. He was on a call.”
I shook my head. We all had to put up with some shitty bosses in this industry, and every industry. And Kelly certainly wasn’t the worst I’d seen. But even still, I felt for Lucy. “It’s going to be a long three months for you.”
She gave me a small smile. “At least I have tomorrow off.”
She did? Well, I guess that made sense. The costumes for Sunday’s sex scene weren’t exactly complicated and didn’t need a whole lot of prep. Even still, my stomach sank at the prospect of not seeing her for an entire day.
Which was idiotic at best. I barely knew the girl. Friends. Frankly, I didn’t know if we could be friends… but I had to at least be friendly. For Lucy’s sake. And for the sake of the film.
And if I was being honest, I wanted to be her friend.
I just wasn’t sure I knew how.
Chapter Eight
Ash
Friday was a long fucking day, and Saturday wasn’t any better. When Sunday’s shoot finally rolled around, I was exhausted. It was only five forty-five a.m., and I had already had two cups of coffee.
“Hang on…” I said to Jude who was sitting across from me. “I got an email from Rich.” I leaned closer to my screen, clicking the email open. Jude leaned back, coffee in hand, and rested his ankle on his knee. We usually tried to do coffee together at least once a week before filming. It was a tradition we carried through from our projects in film school. With a tug at his baseball hat, he waited patiently while I read the email.
You want Jon to take over as the direct contact for costuming? That’s genius. I don’t know why I didn’t think of that with your history with Kelly. Let him know today. As for Pierce, I think those terms are fair, considering this is on us for not offering him the role to begin with. If he agrees, draw
up the contracts stat and let’s get him back here asap. ~R
I breathed a sigh of relief. At least those two things were taken care of. Based on the lack of sleep I’d been getting the last two nights, I had to do something about Lucy, and fast.
At least this way if anything did happen between us, I’d no longer be her direct supervisor. I couldn’t get her out of my head. Asleep or awake, she was consuming my thoughts. There was no question … she was a natural submissive.
For the first time in five years, I didn’t want a random hookup. For the first time since Brie’s death, I wanted someone for more than simply her ability to swallow pain; for more than her sexy body or limber, long legs. I wanted Judy-Garland-loving, glasses-wearing, cute-as-a-button Lucy… not just because she was hot, but because she was sweet. And funny. And smart. And hot.
As I sipped my coffee, Brie's ring caught a glint of light. I hadn't thought of her when Lucy and I were at the bar. Not once had her voice or memory saturated my thoughts in those three hours we hung out. It was probably the longest I'd ever gone not thinking about her.
Until I drove up to Brie’s old apartment.
I scrubbed a hand down my face, rubbing at my red, bleary eyes. I could have my pick of submissives at LnS. Women who were there intentionally to learn about the lifestyle, truly curious about pursuing a life of kink, not just hanging out with their roommate who was the bartender. So why couldn’t I stop thinking about Lucy’s deep brown eyes? Why was the one woman I wanted so badly someone I worked with? Someone I should be running in the other direction from?
“Everything okay?” Jude asked.
I took a sip of coffee, the liquid so hot, it nearly scalded the back of my throat. “Yeah. I just needed to remove myself from being Lucy’s direct boss. Jon’s taking over.”
“You must have it bad if you’re relinquishing control on your movie,” Jude said.
“I wouldn’t say that,” I grunted. Admitting that I liked this girl to Jude made this all too real. Because truly… I didn’t know what this fucking was yet. “So, that non-fraternization policy… it’s not like a real thing, right? I mean, look at you and Marly. Relationships are accepted if you sign a consent clause, right?” I didn’t know what I wanted with Lucy… but I knew I wasn’t going to be able to forget her. Walking away entirely and pretending Thursday night hadn’t happened wasn’t working. Which made me doubt to high hell this stupid theory that we could be just friends for three months during filming. Not with the sort of chemistry we had. Hell, she could barely come get me to start filming on Friday without us nearly making out in my trailer.
Shrugging, Jude took a sip of his coffee and gave me a doubtful look over the ceramic lip. “I don’t know. I mean, yeah, there is the option to sign a consent clause. Or he might move her from this film onto a different movie to prevent you two from working together. Even with Jon handling costuming, Rich and the other executives might want more separation.”
I sighed, blowing the steam off the top of my coffee. “Richard is the one who thinks the movie would benefit from my training a new sub.”
Jude chuckled. “Yeah, but he didn’t mean one of your crew members. He meant go meet someone at LnS.”
“I did. That’s where she was.”
Jude’s penetrating gaze locked onto me from over the edge of his coffee mug. “Maybe that’s enough, then. Rich is a reasonable guy—if it’s what you both want, you and Lucy. But just be aware… you might be risking your job here. Is she worth it?”
Is she worth the risk? My career I’d worked so hard to build; the shit director gigs I put up with just to eventually be given a chance at a script like this. How could I answer that? I barely knew the girl. “Christ. It’s like the second Richard brought the fraternization policy up—made the crew forbidden fruit—I found the ripest, juiciest apple.”
Jude snorted and tugged his hat lower over his eyes. “Or you picked up a regular apple and it suddenly looks more appealing.”
Was that what this was about? Was the appeal to have Lucy only because I couldn’t? I did like a conquest. Even as a kid, I couldn’t stand it when someone told me I couldn’t do something.
“Maybe,” I said, not quite believing it yet, but also not ruling it out. “You should see this girl though, Jude. She’s… God, she’s something.”
Jude’s knee bounced against the seat, a surefire sign that he was nervous as hell about today’s shoot. But as soon as I said that, his bouncing knee stilled. "I haven't heard you talk about a woman like this since... in a long time."
I swallowed, enjoying the painful burn of coffee down my throat. "I know."
“So... how is this girl different than all the others??”
“She gives zero fucks and yet… is also nervous and shy. It’s the strangest thing. She’s opinionated as hell, but it’s almost like she bottles up those opinions until you coax them out of her.” Or strike a nerve.
“She sounds…”
“Amazing,” I finished for him.
Jude shrugged, but smiled. “I was going to say confusing.” Then, pushing off the chair, he slapped his palm down onto my shoulder. “But that’s probably what you like about her.”
I nodded… instinctually. Like a reflex. Until Jude’s words sank in. “Wait… what? What do you mean?”
Jude turned in the doorway. “You’ve always been too smart for your own good. You get bored because of it. Someone you can’t quite figure out? That’s going to pique your interest. More importantly… not just pique, but hold it, too. It was one of the things you loved about Brie.”
"I don't want to be attracted to some carbon copy of her," I whispered. It felt dirty. And wrong. Like I was trying to replace Brie.
Jude shook his head, a frown tilting his mouth, and his expression softened with those down-turned lips. "That's not what I meant. I'm sure they're very different. All I'm saying is that a strong woman who doesn't reveal everything about herself the second you blink your baby blues at her... that’s a woman worth fighting for."
He was right. Fuck. Lucy and Brie were very different, but they had undeniable similarities. Pain twisted my stomach. And I hated that feeling. Hated that anyone other than Brie could cause me pain. Lucy didn’t deserve it. She hadn’t earned it the way Brie had. And it felt like I was disrespecting all that my wife and I had shared by letting a woman who was likely a short-term lover stab my heart.
I wasn’t one who got hurt often—I had the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech down to a beautifully timed address. I could get the words out, have her dressed and out the door in ten minutes flat. Occasionally, with a parting blowjob. But with Lucy? Everything was different. Nothing quite worked the same way with her— my lines fell flat. My smile gained an eye roll, not batting eyelashes. And something as stupid as helping her brain freeze or touching her wrist made us both breathless.
I rested my coffee on my desk, releasing the hot ceramic handle. “You’re right. I do like a challenge. But this is more than that.”
My gaze stayed fastened onto the steaming mug of coffee, its nearly black liquid swirling against the small teaspoon of cream I dropped in it. There was chemistry between me and Lucy—I wasn’t imagining it. Intense, potent chemistry. Why did my voice sound more pinched and tighter than a boom’s grip?
Jude nodded, but his lips were pulled in a tight line. “Well, ask Richard about the consent contract. And if he says no, then put her on the no-fly list until three months from now when you yell ‘it’s a wrap.’ Then, have all the fun you want with her.”
I groaned. I couldn’t wait three months. Seeing her every day? It would be impossible. Torture.
Then again, maybe the torture was good. Maybe I deserved it. Deserved to be torn apart emotionally for these feelings I was having. I could still teach her the lifestyle. Teach her to be a submissive… without sex. Isn’t that what Jude had done with Marly? Maybe I could train her without crossing that line.
“Ash,” Jude said, his voice suddenly serious. “I
’m sure she’s great… but is she worth giving up everything you’ve built here at Silhouette? Is she worth going back to college humor with twenty-year-old douchenozzles who smoke their weight in pot?”
I was quiet for a long moment, and Jude, God love him, just stood there silently with me. “How did you know with Marlena? You nearly gave up this movie for her…”
The clock ticked in the corner like a metronome, keeping our conversation on beat. My eyes darted, ping-ponging back and forth between Jude and his coffee cup. “I had no doubts. It was the right thing to do—she was best for the role in this and if that meant me not being a part of it to see the right movie get made with the right actress, I was willing to give that up.”
Inhaling deeply, I drew in a breath and held it in my cheeks before slowly releasing it. My fidgeting calmed and I clamped my hands to my hips, lifting my gaze to Jude’s. Every muscle in my body felt like it was lined with lead. “And you knew it meant you would get the girl?”
He shot me a grin. “I didn’t know. I had hoped we would find our way back to each other, but when I quit the movie, I thought we were through. Until she came running to LnS with my Rolex in hand.”
I lifted my coffee cup to him. “You’re welcome for that, by the way.” I shot my best friend a wink since I’d helped Marly at her callback find Jude.
Jude rolled his eyes and stood up. “Come on,” he said, opening the door and jerking his head toward the sound stage. “I have to get into my makeup chair soon and you are due on set.”
Role Play (Silhouette Studios) Page 9
