by Xavier Neal
She grows a wide grin.
Curious why that made her smile so wide, I ask, “What?”
“You said when we see him again.”
“Yeah.”
“We like we...as in...you think we will still be together when you see him again.”
Do you get why this is worth the extra grin? Not that I'm complaining. I'll take it. I'll take the extra awesome boyfriend credit, just trying to figure out what I said to deserve it.
Unsure of what else to do, I nod.
“But you only see him like every six months or something.”
“Uh-huh...”
“Which means...which means you see us together for at least another six months.”
The significance finally hits me. With a soft tug of her closer to me, I whisper, “I see us together for much longer than that, nottie. Hopefully you do too.”
There's a small happy sigh before she tips her lips up to mine.
Pretty sure I just broke all normal dating protocols by saying that, but you know what? I don't really care. I play enough bullshit games with my career. I don't wanna play any in my personal life if I don't have to.
Pierce
The only draw-back to spending the night together with Minka is the fact she wakes up too goddamn early. I don't fucking understand. She's a writer. For the most part she makes her own damn schedule yet she chooses to wake up at the ass crack of dawn. Over the last two weeks, we've taken turns spending nights at each other's places, but almost every morning is identical. She wakes up while I can barely open my eyes, rubs my head back to sleep, then spends the time reading a book or writing one. However, the minute I'm actually awake she tosses everything aside and we have each other for breakfast. Minka's pussy is becoming the best part of waking up...definitely better than any cup of coffee.
Rolling my head over, I'm surprised Minka's not in the space beside me, in her bed, where she should be. Unhappy with her absence, I drag my body upward, and spot her in the process of buttoning up a black shirt.
I frown. “Too early for that many buttons.”
Startled, she slightly jumps as she looks up. “Well, good morning to you too.”
“No, a good morning is my nottie in bed next to me where I can take advantage of her naked body.”
Minka grins wide and walks over to me. Leaning over, she tries to plant a light kiss on my lips. I grab her by the belt loop of her jeans, capture her bottom lip between my teeth, and slay it until she offers me her tongue instead. Slowly, we roll them around until she's melting back into bed with me.
Now this is how I should wake up.
To my surprise Minka pulls back. “As much as I want to crawl into bed with you and do that thing with my tongue that makes you growl like you're a lion-”
That....that's....an over exaggerated illustration.
“I can't. I have to go to work.”
“Oh yeah, that romance convention thing, right?”
“Mmhm.” She stands up straight. “And I could totally skip it if it wasn't for the fact it's one of the only times the head of the company that publishes my books comes to town.”
“Basically, you have to meet your boss?”
“She's scarier than a boss. More like meeting a publishing empress. Piss her off and you won't eat. Ever. Again.”
Chuckling, I lean back against the pillows. “I've met my fair share of pushy producers, so I can imagine where you're coming from. How about I come with you?”
“Oooo.” She quickly shakes her head. “I don't think you'd like it. There's lectures, model shoots, model introductions, cocktails with models....”
An unfamiliar emotion races through my system. “Not real sure I like the way you keep saying models.”
Minka giggles. “Is the hot, sexy T.V. star jealous of a few models?”
“Keep that up and you're going to be late for the convention.”
She wets her lips as if contemplating how much she might enjoy the punishment. “Anyway, it's a good place to connect with fellow authors, learn where the market is and where it's heading. New promotional techniques and get first dibs on some exclusive author signings for next year.”
“I'd get to see you in full writer mode.”
“It's a very scary thing.”
“You're not really making me wanna go any less,” I argue. When her jaw opens to make another compelling case, I plead, “Come on, Minka. I would love to see what it is you really do for a living, live in the nottie flesh.” As soon as I see her starting to sway, I give one final push, “Please.”
On a deep exhale, she tosses her hands in the air. “Fine! You can come, but don't say I didn't warn you.”
I smile wide.
“Stop smiling and start showering. We've gotta get out of here in twenty five minutes.”
“On it.” Hopping out of bed I head for the shower, but spin around half way there. “Unless....you wanna join me?”
Minka's tongue slowly strolls across her lips once more making me want to walk back over, wrap her in my arms, and carry her to the shower with me regardless of her answer. “Um...um...I actually just finished my makeup and as you know I have an easier time eating those weird exotic salads you fix than I do putting that shit on my face unassisted. Emerson would kill me if I tried to call her back for another video session so soon after we ended the last one.”
Is it strange I actually prefer her to not wear makeup? Better yet is it weird I probably wear more make -up than she does? Yeah. I heard it. But it's not like I have a choice and not like I wear it when I don't have to.
I finish my route to her bathroom with her on my trail. “Speaking of Emerson, how come you didn't invite her out with us when Scott was in town?”
“Why would I?”
Dropping my boxers, I reply, “Because they hooked up in Vegas.”
Her eyes wander down until they settle on my slightly hard cock, which is now stiffening at the new attention. While her eyes do what I wish her hands would, I keep mine plastered on her face, enjoying every erotic expression she's offering at a frequent rate.
I clear my throat in an attempt to refocus my brain before I toss her against the shower wall and do the very thing I'm trying to be patient about. “Baby, I can't promise we'll be on time for this thing if you keep staring at me like that.”
Minka bites her bottom lip and looks away.
Her relocated vision allows me to hop into the shower. Almost immediately the hot water runs down my back and over my throbbing cock, calling to my hand to stroke it.
Nope. Can't jerk off in her shower with her on the other side of the curtain. Mm...shouldn't. The word I want is shouldn't.
“Scott and Em didn't hook up in Vegas.”
“They did,” I argue starting to scrub, actively avoiding my dick that refuses to give up on it's efforts of getting any sort of attention. “Remember they were grinding on the dance floor?”
“I do-”
“And before we left, I told Scott to make sure she made it back to the hotel safe.”
“She did...but Lake was the one who brought her back. At like 6 a.m. might I add.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I wish it would've been Scott. I like him.”
“You like him?”
“Oh relax. I meant I like him not like like him.”
“Like like?”
She makes a mutter of noises before snapping, “I just meant I enjoy his presence unlike Lake.”
Rinsing out my hair, I question, “What's wrong with Lake?”
“Eh,” she replies. “Doesn't seem like a good guy.”
“Lake's....alright.”
Can't tell her Emerson isn't the first girl Lake's snaked from Scott. That would help her case, not mine.
“Really? The guy who can't add two plus two without the assistance of his fingers?”
I stifle my laugh. “He....can...”
“Convincing,” Minka mumbles. “I'm going to finish getting dressed. I'll see you on the othe
r side.”
I hear the sound of the bathroom door shut and I grab the soap to give myself a second scrub.
Can't risk bad hair or bad B.O. for Minka's special work thing. Remind me to brush my teeth extra too. Hey, some day she's gonna have to be pricked and pulled and stuffed into a gown for one of my events. The least I can do is put in similar effort for something I know is important to her. Shit...what do I even wear to a romance convention?
**
Pressing on the accelerator to merge onto the highway, I state, “Just for the record, I was never at this thing.”
Minka fiddles around with something in her shoulder bag. “Afraid it'll damage your reputation as a straight actor?”
I roll my eyes. “More like, I promised Caroline I would stay low key and away from crowds of this magnitude.” There's a thud from beside me, which causes me to quickly glance over and see her leaned against the door, pinning me with a stern look. “What?”
“This is the exact opposite of that!”
“Uh-huh. That's why I said on record I was never at this thing.”
“Do we need to call Gunz? Do you need security? Maybe it would be best if you just dropped me off and-”
“Please don't do that,” I grumble, changing lanes. “Please don't treat me like everyone else.”
The conversation falls silent and an uncomfortable feeling starts to gnaw at the back of my throat.
“Minka-”
“I would never snap at you like that,” she mutters under her breath. “And what the hell are you snapping at me for? I'm not the famous one. I'm not the one with millions of fans dying for a glimpse of me. I'm not the one who needs a bodyguard for protection against those same fans.”
My mouth twitches to interrupt.
“You're snapping at me because I care if something terrible happens to the man I love? Well forgive me for being a selfish bitch.”
I catch her hand flying across her mouth as it hits her what she just confessed.
Not how I imagined hearing her say that for the first time, but since it's not a television show, guess there's no script to lead the way.
“The man that you-”
“I didn't say that.”
Dolefulness coats my tone. “You mean you don't lo-”
“I do!” She squeaks. “I mean I don't! I mean-” Minka's voice cuts itself off on a flustered huff. “That's not exactly how I wanted to tell you.”
“I hope telling me you love me and then being overly sarcastic wasn't how you wanted that to go.”
“It's not,” she sneers. “But like so many other things in my life, verbal vomit got the better of me.”
With a crooked smile, I stretch my hand across to her lap. “I love your verbal vomit.”
“And I'm the weird one.”
I find her fingers to fold mine with. “I feel the same way that you do, Minka. However, instead of saying it in the middle of an argument, I'll hold off until we can say it without both being worried it was in the heat of the moment, felt obligated to return it thing.”
Might not be able to give her most things the average boyfriend can, but I don't have to rob her of the few that I can, including an appropriate time to say I love you.
“All I meant was I have plenty of reminders that I'm not just an everyday guy. That you're not taking just some average asshole to one of the most important events of your career. That I don't have the luxury of going out in public without sunglasses and a baseball cap because of the repercussions. The last thing I want, hell the last thing I need, is the woman I love changing how she treats me, especially because it's one of things I love most about her.”
Minka's face softens.
“You don't like being around me because I'm Pierce Wyatt, actor. You treat me like I'm Pierce Wyatt-”
“Tone deaf extraordinaire!”
Through a burst of laughter, I shake my head. “I am not that bad!”
“You are terrible,” Minka giggles. “I can't be British. You can't be on Broadway.” We laugh together again before she sighs, “I get what you're saying though. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to come across like that. I just...I don't know what I would do if anything happened to you. Then add that it was my fault at my work event? Yeah. Moving to the basement of a convent on an island whose name has more vowels than consonants to live a life of sullen solitude would be paradise compared to what I would deserve.”
I give her short smile. “You really are fantastic with words.”
She gives me another sarcastic look.
“What! You can create a really good visual.”
“Compliment received,” Minka hums.
“Point made,” I echo. “I'll be fine, baby. If people start to get wind of who I am or the situation gets out of hand, I swear, I'll get the hell out of dodge.”
“And you'll call Gunz.”
Groaning my objection receives me a swat on the hand. “Ou! Yes! Fine! I'll call Gunz if it gets to that.”
“Good.”
Her attention moves away from me back to her bag.
“Speaking of people who work for me, my assistant Caroline will kill me if I don't bring her back an autographed copy of one of your novels. I'll do whatever it is I have to do to get one.”
Playfully, Minka retorts, “That sounds dirty...can we make that dirty?”
I chuckle back, “We can always be dirty, nottie. Just say it.”
She checks her phone again as I take the exit. “I'll do you one better. I'll send you back with a set.”
“A set? I don't know if my ear drums can handle those shrieks.”
After another snicker, she asks, “Does she have a favorite? Preference?”
“I'm sure anything you send her will be fine. She's a huge fan and since we've started dating she has yet to let me forget it.”
Weird role reversal huh? You'd expect Minka's friends to be huge fans because I'm on television, but you'd be wrong. Emerson barely knew who I was. Honestly? I kinda prefer it this way, though it is a little strange to have my assistant go fan girly any time she sees us video calling.
“She did at one point mention something about attractive astronauts....”
Minka's sudden silence pulls my eyes over to her at the stoplight. The new concerned expression causes me to ask, “Everything okay?”
“Uh...” Her head shakes as if trying to clear her thoughts. “Just a little confused.”
“About?”
“Emerson just sent me this photo of you walking on the beach with some blonde haired bimbo taken yesterday, yet you were in my kitchen making me eggplant spaghetti.”
Need to eat a little healthier than she's accustomed to. I may be on vacation, but the days are flying and I can't afford to go back with extra pounds that'll force me to have to do a juice cleanse or detox or whatever bullshit my trainer will suggest. Funny thing is I got her to eat vegetables with me. Yeah. It was about as successful as you're thinking it was.
She flashes me the photo seconds before the light turns green. I turn my attention forward to finish following the GPS instructions. “That's my stunt double.”
“What?!”
Turning the corner for the hotel, I clarify, “I have a stunt double on the set for some of the action scenes and my PR rep hired him to go into public when I'm trying to have down time to draw the attention far away from wherever it is I actually am. After Preston's play by play of our golfing fun, everyone was worried they would try to hunt me down here in town, so Eddie, my PR rep, sent Ray out in public to move the heat to a different direction for my safety and sanity.”
“That's secret spy shit.”
I chuckle, grab the baseball cap, and sunglasses. “Bond. James Bond.”
Minka grunts. “Ugh. Your British accent is super sexy.”
Before putting on the objects I give a devious wink.
She gripes, “Stops being sexy.”
“Can't...”
After the valet gives us our ticket, I enter the hotel beside Minka, a sm
all question on the tip of my tongue. She checks the front desk for the location of the event while I glance around at the type of place I typically live in during promotional tours.
Ritzy. Expensive. And enough security that random assholes off the street can't just stroll in for celebrity scouting. Believe it or not there's an entire blog whose sole purpose is to post which hotels have stars staying in them. Obviously they don't agree on our rights for privacy.
