Hollywood Lies

by N. K. Smith

  Her tongue glides into my mouth. The sensation sends blood rushing down to my dick. My hips buck, but unfortunately, my hard-on is contained in my jeans, and the only friction it receives is from the bottom of the sofa.

  I wrap my arms around her and bring her down onto me. Now her box is right on top of my dick. We might be clothed, but it doesn’t matter. Cole wraps her arms around my neck, squeezes closer to me, and makes her little body rock on top of me as our kiss consumes more and more of us.

  We only stop because of the knock at the door. She clears her throat quietly and pulls away. I stare at her lips; they’re slightly pinker than before. My grip on her hips loosen, but when she tries to slide backward, I tighten my hold and bring her close again.

  I pull her hips and push mine up. She lets out this little erotic noise; just a little sound that stokes the fire within me. I know she can feel how hard I am for her, just like I can feel the heat of her pussy through her jeans.

  I wish I could feel her wetness, but I go for the next best thing. I dive back in for her mouth as I put a hand to her breast. I was right. Cole’s tits are soft and mold into my hand perfectly. I want skin on skin, but the knock sounds once more.

  She pulls away again, but then kisses me quickly before standing up. Cole trails one sexy hand from her neck all the way down to the junction of her legs, her fingertips just grazing the fabric above her mound. Damn, I want her.

  “That was amazing.” She shakes her head and runs a hand through her hair to smooth it back into place. “Not quite the innocent little lamb I took you for.”

  If only she knew the kind of experience I actually have. She must not know about Julie’s personal life, and the things I did with her, otherwise there is no way Cole would call me innocent. For just a second, I start to panic. I hope she doesn’t know about me and Julie. That would be an awkward conversation I’m sure would keep us from kissing again.

  “Guess you don’t mind that I’m your boss?”

  I can’t talk. All I can do is lick my lips and shake my head.

  “Good,” Cole says in a whisper. “Because I don’t mind, either.”

  “Come back.”

  She walks backward to the door. “Nope. You’re dangerous, and I’m hungry.”

  “I’ll be good,” I say in a singsong voice in hopes of luring her back to me. I’m not innocent, but with her I might as well be a virgin.

  Cole opens the door to the hallway. “Oh, I’m sure you will be, but for now, it’s time to eat.”

  While we eat, we fall into comfortable conversation about everything under the sun. I’m amazed at how similar our tastes are. We like the same music, the same films, the same books, and the same places.

  “You’ve never been outside of the country?”

  I answer with a shake of my head.

  “Seriously?”

  “Seriously.”

  Collette sucks sauce off her finger, and I’m transfixed. “Well, that’s another thing that’ll change. We’ll promote the hell out of this movie. You’re going be sick of traveling after they’re through with you.”

  “Will you go on the promotional tour?”

  “Some of it,” she replies.

  “So we’ll be seeing a lot of each other?”

  That sexy little smirk reappears. It’s the one she wears in a promotional still from her movie Like Friends. I used to jerk off to it constantly, so seeing it in real life makes me want to come in my pants.

  “How much of me do you want to see?”

  I don’t hesitate. “All of you.”

  Cole laughs, and then goes back to her food.

  After dinner, we go back to playing around on the guitars in the living room. She plays better than my friend, Cooper, better than anyone I know, so I push myself to keep up with her. I start playing and singing the song Coop and I wrote back in high school, and she pauses just to listen.

  “You sing, too. Now you’ve really got me interested. Do you play the piano as well?”

  I stop singing for a moment. “No. My parents tried to force me into it, thinking I’d be the next, well, you, but I never took to it. My fingers are a bit too stubby and there’s so much going on.”

  “Too many keys?” Cole asks.

  “Exactly.”

  “But only three pedals.”

  I give her an exaggerated nod. “True, but no, I’ve never really tried to do the music thing professionally. I thought about it, but then I got a decent acting job.”

  “The TV show?”

  I nod. I don’t really want to talk about what ended up being nothing but five minutes of air time, even though it led to a few more bit parts in films. “Maybe I should do more music.”

  “You should. It’s a stress reliever for me.”

  “Yeah, but I don’t have a cool name like Highland.”

  She laughs, and I want to kiss her again, but I’m not sure how to make that happen now that the moment has passed, so I continue to sing. Collette starts playing the perfect accompaniment to the piece.

  We play late into the night, pausing a few times to talk or laugh. Somehow our guitars are abandoned, and we lie spooning on her king sized bed. Her back is flush against my chest. We talk about how late it is and how bored she gets most nights. She tells me of her insomnia, and I tell her about my ability to sleep just about anywhere.

  “Lucky,” she mumbles. For a while, Cole makes these slow movements, shifting, really. I don’t know if she does them purposefully or if they are normal relaxation movements for her, but either way, my dick is hard again. I think about getting laid. I think about what it would feel to be inside of her, and I think about how to make it happen.

  My hand slides over her hip, but when my fingers brush against the fly of her jeans, I realize Cole has stopped moving. I prop myself up on my hand and look down at her. She is asleep. Right after she finished telling me how she barely sleeps. I don’t know what I did to make her feel comfortable enough to sleep, but here she is.

  The idea that this beautiful and vulnerable insomniac, who trusts very few people, has fallen asleep with me is more exciting than a passing fantasy of having sex with her. And if what she said is true—if she truly is interested in me and things continue the way tonight has, the fantasy will become reality.

  I don’t want to wake her, but I’m not sure she wants me to stay overnight. Although if she didn’t want me here, she wouldn’t have fallen asleep in the first place, so I carefully reach down and pull up the blanket at the foot of the bed and cover us. I drape my arm over her waist again and bury my face in her hair. Falling asleep with her is incredibly easy.

  I am so lucky.

  After what feels like only a short time, I’m awakened by soft knocking. A glance at the clock tells me it’s just after four in the morning. I stretch after extracting myself from Collette’s still sleeping body.

  My heart races as I look down and remember the night before. The music, the laughing, the food, the fantastic make out session.

  The knocking continues until I leave the bedroom and throw open the suite door. As I drag a hand down my tired face, I’m expecting one of her security guards, but it’s Julie in front of me.

  Her eyes widen as they take in my disheveled appearance. “It’s time for Cole to go to the gym.” Julie is pissed. Her tense posture as she breezes into the suite and how she looks around gives her away.

  “She’s sleeping.”

  “What?”

  I point to the bedroom, and Julie goes in. I watch as she studies Cole for a minute, then she turns back to me, with fire in her eyes and hands on her hips. “She usually doesn’t let her conquests spend the night.”

  The reference is supposed to make me hurt in some way. As much as it’s probably supposed to be a secret, it’s not news Cole goes out with a lot of men. She gets photographed enough for the whole world to know which flavor is on her menu on any given night. If I had to guess, it’s her actual relationships she tries to hide, not the men Julie refers to as
conquests.

  But despite that knowledge, I don’t feel threatened or demeaned. We didn’t have sex, and something tells me that if I was just the man of the week, we would’ve fucked all night instead of slept.

  “It’s not like that,” I say to Julie.

  She folds her arms over her chest which pushes out her tits like they’re weapons. “No? It’s cool, Devon. I totally get it,” she says in a voice laced with acid. “Cole can get you power and fame, and I can only get you off. It’s—”

  “It’s not like that,” I repeat. “Not that I owe you anything. You did that tattooed guy, and we were never a thing, remember?”

  Her face hardens even more. “You should go. Cole has shit to do.”

  “ ’m up,” Cole says from the bed. She sits up and rubs the sleep out of her eyes. “Hey,” she says to me, smile on her lips and in her voice.

  “Good morning.”

  “Sorry about the whole falling asleep thing.” She rises and gives Julie a smile that isn’t returned. “Time for the gym, I guess?”

  Julie nods curtly, but Cole doesn’t look at her as she walks to me and kisses my cheek. “See you on set.”

  Chapter 6

  Cole

  I feel a bit out of it. I usually don’t get so much sleep. I have no idea how or why I fell asleep with Devon, but there was something comforting about him. Turns out, he can make me feel good by just talking, sharing music, or holding me. I haven’t experienced that in a long time. It’s a little scary.

  “What’s up with you today?” I ask.

  Julie angrily tosses her cell down on the counter and comes back with another huff. “Nothing.”

  She never tells me anything personal, and it’s not like people on set rush up to me with the latest gossip. I’m usually too busy and gossip has never been my thing, but right now I wish it was because then maybe I’d have a clue as to what’s wrong with her. I set my script down next to me and take a sip of my coffee. “I don’t think this trailer can hold all the negativity oozing off you.”

  “Well, we can’t all be Zen yoga masters like you, now can we?”

  “Why don’t you take the day off?”

  This gets Julie to stop fuming and actually look at me. “What?”

  “Go do something fun, or take care of whatever’s got you in a knot.”

  Again, she huffs as she folds her arms over her chest. “I’m not in a knot.”

  “Listen.” I set down my cup and trace my lips with my finger. The memory of Devon’s mouth against mine makes the flesh tingle as if we are still kissing. “You’re one of my very favorite people in the world, but you know how I feel about irrational anger and—”

  “Oh, it’s rational. Believe me.”

  “Okay, so what’s going on?”

  “Nothing.”

  I stand and grab my script and coffee. “That’s not a rational response, and you know it. I need positive people around me. We all have bad days. I need you to take today off to deal with yours.”

  “That’s so—”

  I hold up my hand to stop her words. There is so much fire in those two words, there’s no reason to let her keep going. Julie’s eyes are icy, and it seems like her hate is pouring out directly at me. “You’re acting like I’m trying to take something from you. I’m giving you a paid day off. Most people would be happy about that.”

  “Fine,” she says.

  “What have I done to piss you off like this?”

  Julie lets her arms drop to her sides, but turns away. “Nothing,” she says again. She grabs her cell then faces me. “Maybe I will take the day off. Do you need anything before I go?” Already at the door before the question is out, she leaves no time for me to answer.

  I dig my fingers into my eyes for a moment and I feel the stress Julie has layered in the air. I stand up straight, roll my shoulders back, and take in a deep breath. I have to clear my mind of this crap before moving on. I glance at the clock. I have to be on set and ready in five minutes.

  I bend over in a yoga pose and put my hands on the floor, then walk them forward and push my body back. Down Dog stretches me. As the blood flows through my warming muscles, I feel better. I bring my right leg forward and raise my body up, holding my arms out in Warrior II. I sink down lower in the pose, then repeat the short sequence on the other side.

  When I step out of my trailer, my mind is free from the negativity and latches onto the sensations of last night.

  It’s baffling how I fell asleep with Devon. Usually I’m up all night; only sleeping a few hours and usually not with someone else in the room. But what gets me is how hot that kiss was, or rather those kisses were, yet, I didn’t press him for the instant gratification of sex.

  He was hard beneath me; I was wet and ready, but something about him makes me want to take my time. Going directly into sex with him might throw off what I’m trying to accomplish, and I don’t want to scare him.

  Which is what, exactly? A relationship?

  I let out a chuckle.

  Sure, a relationship. Because those always work out well for me, and who knows if he’s even being genuine? My life is an open book, he could be just pretending to like what I like. It seems like everyone wants a little piece of me, but something tells me this guy is different. Sure, he might want a piece of me sexually, but there is something deeper; a connection I don’t find with just anyone.

  But still, the quiet little piece of my mind I can’t control is telling me that I could have something with him. We like the same things. He is totally into me. I don’t know him well, but the studio’s background check leads me to believe he is not a criminal or a deviant. What I do know of him, I like. I could help him in his journey, because he is going to need help soon.

  My mind begins to wander and I can’t help but think of a potential version of us.

  I think about walking red carpets with him, his hand in mine or placed gently against the small of my back. We smile that same subtle smile as the photographers and fans snap our pictures. We keep in constant physical contact because we draw energy from each other, and when the interviews are over and we’re inside the theater or ballroom, we exhale together, and set off for the next act of the evening.

  I take in a deep breath, unsuccessfully try to shake out of that fairy tale and mentally kick myself. More than likely, if we did walk the carpet together, it’d be several feet apart, and as soon as we got inside, we’d find a private little nook to steal away into. He’d press me against the wall, pawing at my fine clothes. I’d want him to rip them off me despite needing them for the next few hours. We’d be quick bringing each other pleasure, but the promise of a lengthier encounter after our job here is done would linger over us. This is just the pre-show.

  I come out of my fantasy and push the worry about his intentions away as I enter the auditorium. I see I’m the last to arrive. The high school in which we’re filming smells old and dusty. The studio wouldn’t pay to have this area deep-cleaned, so I know the dust will find its way into me and create a lovely headache.

  Three people sneeze simultaneously. I tell myself just to get through it. Soon enough this shoot will be over, and I can be in New York, hopefully with Devon as the lead.

  There is a tingle deep and low inside my belly, and I’m suddenly aware I’m getting wet just looking at him.

  Don’t sexualize the relationship yet. Jesus. There’s that word again. Relationship!

  I turn to Julie and—shit. Julie isn’t here. Instead, I find X. As the head of my security detail, I know I can rely upon him for many things. “Xavier, baby, do you think you have someone who can play Julie for me today?”

  “What? You mean someone who can run around acting more important than she is?”

  I frown. “Be nice. She’s very important to me.”

  X is unimpressed. “What you need? Coffee?”

  A glance down at myself reveals I need a bit more than that. “Right now, yeah, but I’m going to need my cell. She usually keeps it. I als
o need my music because I’m not going to be able to work without some tunes. Julie usually keeps all my notes for scenes, and if I have an idea, she—”

  Xavier holds up one hand to halt my words, then places a call on his cell. I turn back to the cast. They’re up on the stage, messing around. Landon and Lucas are goofing off with Liliana and Miranda, dancing like they’re in the ballet. Devon stands apart from the others, script in one hand, a black and white composition notebook curled in his back pocket and a paperback in the other hand.

  Wonder what he’s reading today.

  When Devon glances at me, my body temperature increases, and my breath actually hitches. This has only happened a few times in my life, like with Oliver. Not now when Oliver and I only hook up to regain a brief, fleeting feeling of the past. No, this is the fluttering high of when I first met Oliver, and we danced around the truth of our mutual lust and interest in each other.

  It happened with Quin, too. It’s the fast and furious hormones reacting to something I want so desperately. But it’s not so simple as that either because in terms of lust, I’ve been attracted to a lot of men. This is something more. Indescribable more. Like the way I fell asleep next to him. How the weight of Devon’s arm lulled me into a secure peace. Like how I want to know what goes on in his mind just as badly as I want to know what is in his pants.

  “My daughter’s on her way.”

  I turn back to X. “Shafira? Is she going to help today? What about—”

  “She don’t have classes today, and she wants to see you.”

  “Holy shit, Xavier!” I clap my hands once and bounce excitedly. “How long has it been?”

  He shakes his head. “Years. She’s doing good though.”

  Shafira was such a smart little girl. When Xavier started working for me years ago, I fell in love with the little girl he would bring by. After her mom died, I wanted to do something for her, so I set up a college fund. Every opportunity I had with her, we’d talk about what she wanted to do or be when she got older. When she turned eighteen, she told me she had been accepted into Harvard.