Last First Kiss

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Last First Kiss Page 19

by Sidney Halston


  “Julia, she’s a bitch. The only reason she’s coming on to me is because she’s intimidated by you. She’s marking her territory, is all. Also, probably, trying to play the paparazzi, but none of it matters. I’m not interested in her.”

  “Even if you’re not interested in her, you have to admit it would be a pretty easy lay. A good one, I’m sure. The kind you’re used to.”

  “What the hell are you talking about, crazy?”

  “Come on, Rocco. I’m . . .” She shook her head and closed her eyes, embarrassment consuming her. “Inexperienced. I’m also intense and I don’t really know how to do this casual thing you want to do. ”

  “Casual? Who said anything about casual? And wasn’t last night good for you?”

  “Yes!” She blurted out. “Of course it was! But what do I have to compare it to? You, on the other hand, it couldn’t have been good for you. I’m not under any girlish delusion that it was anything earth-shattering for you.”

  His sly smile, with that damn dimple, and those sigh-inspiring crystal blue eyes shone down on her. “Aw, baby, was it earth-shattering for you?”

  She growled, and with a thrust of her hip and quick flick of her wrist she flipped them over, but he grabbed onto her wrist and firmly pulled her down against him.

  “I’m not going to let you go. Fight me all you want, fool yourself into thinking whatever you want. But last night was phenomenal for me. Earth-shattering. Even if you’d slept with a dozen men before me, you’d agree.” He moved up and kissed her lips. “I don’t want to sleep with anyone else. Hell, I don’t want you to look at another man. I want you. Just you. Annie, I can’t make you any promises, and we don’t know where this is going to go, but it’s not casual. I want you. Really want you. Here,” he pointed to her head. “Here,” he pointed to her heart. “And here too.” He cupped her pussy over her jeans. “Don’t question yourself. Where’s the crazy I like? The tough woman who kicks my ass and tells me what to do?”

  “I’m right here. About to kick your ass if I see that woman put her claws on you again.”

  “Awww . . . look at you, all jealous.” He chuckled and kissed her. “Come here and show me exactly how jealous you are.”

  He let go of her hands and she sat up. Reaching up, he pulled her shirt up and over her head. “For someone who is supposed to be all innocent, you’re too sexy for your own good.” He cupped her black lace bra. She undid the buttons of his shirt, one by one.

  “I never thought I’d like a man with a hairy chest.”

  He looked down at his chest. “Hairy? It’s not hairy.”

  “A little bit.” She ran her hands over the small amount of soft hair on his pecs. There really wasn’t much there, but there was something sexy about it. Rugged. Masculine.

  “Baby, that’s because I’m a man not a boy.” He shifted so that she was on the bed, then stood up, grabbed her ankles, and dragged her to the edge.

  With a flick of his fingers, her jeans were unbuttoned and he pulled them off. “God, I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.” His eyes roamed her body in a sensual caress that left her panting. “I don’t know if I want to know the answer to this question and this is not the best time to ask it, but before last night what had you done?”

  She moved up, resting on her elbows. “Everything but sex.”

  He groaned, not liking the answer.

  “But if it means anything, last night was the best. I’d never come before from . . .”

  “From what?”

  “From oral,” she said shyly.

  His big toothy smile was ridiculous.

  “Men and their egos!” She dropped back down to her back. He kneeled down on the floor and pulled her panties down her legs. He did it slowly. Everything he did was with purpose and to turn her on further. Nothing was a throwaway move, a mistake, or a surprise. The man knew sex. He knew how to touch her, how to seduce her, how to have her writhing underneath him with just a look, a caress, a breath.

  His lips went straight to her sex and he latched on so fast she almost fell off the bed. “You come once in my mouth,” he said, looking up at her, “then you’re going to suck me off, real good, but I’m burying myself deep inside you before I come.”

  “Rocco . . .” she moaned, unable to think of anything except his fingers inside of her and his lips sucking her in a way that was making her crazed. She didn’t know whether to stop him or beg him to keep going. The pleasure and the pain from the intensity converged into a frenzy of sensation. “No. No. I can’t!” she yelled, but pushed his face deeper into her pussy. “Oh my God!”

  He added a second finger and she was done for. He literally pulled the orgasm from somewhere deep inside of her, her eyes rolling to the back of her head, her thighs pressing together, and her heart coming out of her chest.

  But he didn’t give her any reprieve. Not a second. Before she had a chance to come down from the high, he straddled her chest, held on to the headboard, and guided his cock into her mouth. “Suck it, baby.”

  And she did. Happily.

  She grabbed him with her hands and moved up and down while her tongue swirled the head over and over again, and the way he hardened further as she moved just turned her on more and more. She let go with one hand and brought it behind him and clawed his ass cheek and continued to bob her head.

  “Fuuuuck.”

  She sped up a little, feeling in control and so very confident that she could make him lose control. But quickly she realized how wrong she was. In bed, this man was always going to be in charge. He grabbed her wrists firmly and pulled them away from him.

  “Enough.”

  He slid down her body, reached for a condom from the bedside table, and before she’d had a chance to recover he was inside of her. This time he didn’t do it slowly, but this time she didn’t really need it slow. She was so wet and ready there was no pain or discomfort. A little soreness from the previous night, but nothing she couldn’t handle.

  “You okay?” he asked hoarsely before he began to move.

  “Yes.”

  Again, he grabbed the headboard and used it as it leverage to move in and out.

  “Wrap your legs around me,” he instructed, and she complied. For a moment she felt insecure that he had to guide her, but there was no denying that he was enjoying this. He was getting as much pleasure as she was. So she shoved that feeling down and focused on the now. If he was willing to teach her, she’d be happy to learn.

  She used all her strength to push up as he pushed down. “Holy fuck! What are you doing?” he groaned. “Get there, now. I’m going to come.”

  Whatever she’d done he liked it, so she squeezed him harder using all her muscles to move, his neck muscle tensed, and a vein on his forehead throbbed as she felt herself lose all control and everything except the perfect moment right in front of her melted away.

  He pulled away and rolled over to his back. “Jesus Christ!” he rubbed his face with his palm. “Are you okay?”

  “Better than okay.”

  “Be right back.” He hopped off the bed and a moment later he was back. “I was too rough.”

  “It was fine. I was fine.”

  “I can’t get enough of you. I know you think I’m just saying that, but I’m not.” He turned to her and gathered her in his arms. “From the moment I saw you, Annabelle. The instant I laid eyes on you, it was like a punch in the fucking gut.”

  “Really? I mean, you’re Rocco Monroe. I’ve been watching you in movies for years. This unattainable man. This is crazy. You and me? These things just don’t happen.”

  “But you’ve never treated me like Rocco Monroe. I think that’s what I like most about you. To you, I’m just a guy. A job. You’re not trying to impress me. You’re just being yourself.”

  “I can be difficult.”

  “I know.”

  “And crude.”

  “I know that too.”

  “And hardheaded and bitchy and—”

  “Not
hing you’re going to say is going to turn me off, crazy. So let’s just roll with it, okay? Outside this room you can be all those things. But here in my bed in my arms, I want this Annie. The real one, the one who bares herself to me.”

  She let out a deep breath. Could she do that? Could she put it all on the line for him?

  She didn’t know the answer to those questions, but God, did she want to try.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Rumor has it that Julia Vega has demanded that three assistants accompany her to the undisclosed set every day. She has also requested that Marco Rimmel, master chef of the stars, cater all her meals while on production. Her masseuse and life coach are also with her. Her co-stars are unhappy about her behavior and there have been a lot of tense moments on set. A fistfight between Vega and Monroe’s new girl didn’t help ease the situation . . .

  The next day when they both exited the car, he came up to her and took her hand in his. It still made her feel weird, as if now everyone would know they were sleeping together.

  “I don’t give a fuck who knows about us,” he said, tightening his grip as she tried to pull away.

  “I’m your bodyguard. Imagine the fake fistfight this will cause me and Julia.”

  He laughed. “Fine. But you’re also my girlfriend, so get used to this because I’m handsy.” He kissed her cheek as they walked.

  Girlfriend?

  Why did that set her heart aflutter?

  The next two weeks went more or less the same. Nothing was amiss, everything relatively quiet on the set as rumors swirled all around the country. Rumors about their relationship, rumors about Julia, about financing, about riots and angry fans . . . she wasn’t sure what was fact and what was fiction anymore.

  But she was impressed with everyone, Julia included. Paul came to the set a few times to make sure things were in order. Ben looked annoyed at Julia most of the time, but stayed professional and vigilant. Spelling was more cheerful than ever because they were actually on schedule, which meant that NHN was thrilled.

  Annie kept a close eye on what was going on in Colombia. The movie hadn’t even been made yet, and they’d already banned it in a few provinces. There was also a big rally in LA at the NHN studios from anti-violence groups upset that El Traficante was sensationalizing violence. But everyone was ignoring it as if this was a normal Hollywood to-do. So Annie went about her day making sure that Rocco was safe, which was what her job entailed.

  Today, however, the day was overcast and Spelling was uncharacteristically irritable. Rocco and Julia had shot one scene at least a hundred times and it wasn’t improving. Unfortunately it was a kissing scene and if she had to see Julia and Rocco kiss one more time, she was going to scream. And what made it worse was that their acting, being so phenomenal, made it hard to differentiate between acting and reality. The passion was there. Too realistic, in her opinion. But Spelling did not agree. Not at all.

  As they set up to redo the scene yet again, a Google alert from her phone, one that she had set up as soon as she began working with Rocco, came up. She’d grown used to it, since he was always somewhere on the internet.

  Sitting back on her designated chair in the front corner of the set where she could keep an eye on everything, she clicked on the link in the alert. Because of the poor reception it took forever to load.

  Looks like the secret’s out. El Trafficante is being filmed just a few miles south of Florida City just off mile marker forty, according to Julia Vargas’s Facebook check-in. Maybe we’ll finally get to hear from Monroe and Vargas. Are they or aren’t they a couple? Is she referencing the characters or themselves?

  Underneath the caption was a photo of Julia’s post, checking into the area with a selfie of her in her Victoria Mendoza makeup. She’d captioned the photo: Gabriel and Victoria true love.

  If smoke could come out of Anabelle’s ears, it would have. She stomped to Ben and turned her phone his way. “Look. Your client just fucked us.”

  He took the phone from her hand and looked at it and if smoke could come out of his ears it would have. He was livid.

  There was a lot of mud from the recent rain and just from the natural conditions of the swampy park. The set itself, however, had layers of fake terrain. Therefore, when Annie found herself crossing over to Julia in the middle of the shoot, leaving a trail of mud on the fake floor and messing up the shot, no one was happy.

  “Cut! Cut!” Spelling shouted. “What the hell is going on?”

  “I’m sorry to interrupt, but it seems we’ve had a security breach.” Annie barked, walking right over to the stupid woman and shoving the phone right to her face. Rocco came quickly around to read it too.

  “You stopped us for that? I was in the middle of the performance of a lifetime!”

  “Oh, please. Give it a rest. You’ve kissed him enough for one day, don’t you think?”

  “Keep your jealous girlfriend away from me, Rock.”

  “Jealous? This has nothing to do with jealousy. I’m not going to jeopardize my client’s safety because of your stupid Facebook post!”

  “Off my set!” Spelling yelled. “And if you ever think of interrupting—” He got right in her face and yelled loudly but before Annie had a chance to reply, Rocco pulled her by the arm behind him.

  “If you ever raise your voice to Annabelle again, I walk. You understand?”

  “Rocco—”

  “No. You understand? She is doing her job. And you—” He turned around to Julia. “Are you that dumb? We’ll have a hundred people on set within the hour.”

  Spelling walked over and put his palm out. Rocco took the phone out of Annie’s hand and placed it on Spelling’s hand. The director read it and scowled at Julia. “What’s the point of hiding out in the middle of this damn mosquito-infested jungle? Of paying for these bodyguards? Jesus, Julia,” he turned to Annabelle. “I’m sorry for losing my temper. You’re right. This is absolute stupidity. Back to work, people. This may very well be the last day we’re here. Janice, call the scouts. Get a backup,” he yelled to one of the PAs, who quickly ran into a trailer to start working.

  “I’m sorry I interrupted,” Annie said to Rocco.

  He kissed the top of her head and pulled her to his chest. “Don’t be sorry. You made the right call. We’ll probably finish tonight or pull a late night because tomorrow this will be swarming with paps. God, what was she thinking?”

  “Let’s go! Let’s go!” Spelling yelled a moment later.

  “I’ll go to the entrance and see if there’s anything going on. You stay here?” Ben asked.

  “Yeah. Good idea.”

  Where they were shooting was a clearing in the middle of the Everglades. To say there was an actual entrance was a misnomer. There was a swampy road lined by mangroves off the road. Half a mile later was the clearing. How they’d gotten permits to film in the dense, untouched land, Annie did not know.

  It was still early, maybe they could get everything done quickly. There was only one more day of shooting left for Rocco and Julia. The rest of the crew would stay for stills and some extra shots, but Julia and Rocco and the rest of the crew would be flying out tomorrow to Colombia.

  But as the day progressed, Annie grew more and more wary. What really worried her was that the Google alert was not timely. Plus, it had been over a couple of hours since Julia had made her post, which already had nine thousand comments, probably from the road and not the clearing. The exact spot they were in would be hard to locate since the reception was spotty where they were. She wanted to keep her eyes out but at the same time she tried to scroll through the Facebook post to see if there was anything alarming. She was getting frustrated with the internet speed and was close to losing her temper.

  The posts ranged from: You should be ashamed of yourself to I can’t wait to see this movie. There were a few disgusting and very graphic and lewd posts about Julia and some about Rocco.

  As she scrolled down, Annie realized that this was what her life would be like if s
he dated Rocco. Not the crazy stalker shit, which may very well be a common occurrence, but the women constantly vying for his attention. Could she ever compete? Was she as thick-skinned as she hoped she was? Because that is the only way to date a movie star like Rocco. Blind trust and the ability to ignore the paparazzi and rabid fans.

  “Death to Americano.”

  “Americano idiota”

  “Viva Gabriel. El Comandante”

  Then it started to become alarming. One, then two, and then suddenly a hundred people started egging each other on, right there on Julia’s Facebook page. “Let’s show the Hollywood prick, he’s not a real man, like Mendoza was.”

  “He doesn’t know how to handle a gun like I do and like el comandante. Let’s go show him.”

  It was her experience that the mob mentality was sometimes worse than a true believer of a cause. Her heart pumped, and for the first time, she wasn’t sure whether to interrupt them again, or stop production all together.

  Her decision was made when Ben came running back.

  “Julia! In the car. Now.” Then he pointed to Annie and said, “Two pickup trucks on the street and one news van. Pickups have signs and four to five people on the bed of the truck. Getting out of here is going to be hell.”

  Because of the unmarked path to the clearing, it seemed as if everyone parked by the Facebook check-in but didn’t know the exact whereabouts of where they were. Unfortunately, though, they’d have to pass right in front of them to get out of there.

  The crew began to pick up as Ben drove Julia away. Annie wasn’t exactly sure if that was the right decision. The paps would see where Ben came from and know where the filming was generally located. They needed to leave before the crowd became larger, but if there was another way away . . .

  “Come on, before we’re mobbed. We’re going on foot.”

  * * *

  “Crazy, this is the craziest idea you could’ve possibly had.”

  “Ben and Julia are going to unintentionally lead them to us. Plus, I don’t go into situations blind. What if we were seriously outnumbered? What if they are violent? Without a phone to call to get an idea of what was going on, I’m not going to take a risk.”

 

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