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For Research Purposes Only

Page 13

by Sahara Kelly


  Chuck opened his mouth, but closed it again as Jack continued his tirade.

  “And talk about paying. With no competition, prices can skyrocket. Pretty soon kids won’t be able to afford to take their dates to the movies on Friday night. It’s gonna cost thirty bucks for a couple of tickets to a new release, let alone what they’re gonna sting customers for popcorn.” He snarled. “This sucks, Chuck. This really really sucks.”

  Chuck waited for a moment, then obviously realized Jack was done. “I know.” A wry smile curved his mouth. “From what I read, it’s the whole money thing that’s done in the Wildwood. They’re waiting to see if some public-spirited citizen will ante up the cash to get the thing restored. If not, the City Council has authorized its demolition.”

  Jack’s brain worked furiously over this information, and he narrowed his eyes, glaring at his buddy who stared right back at him. “Damn you, Chuck. You know me a helluva lot better than I realized.”

  “Just thought you’d want to know. The timing seemed right.” Chuck looked satisfied and turned to leave. “Oh…one last thing…”

  Jack glanced over his shoulder. “What?”

  “Left some footage for you in the folder marked “Panties”, with an appropriate icon on your desktop. I think it’s an audition tape…you should check it out for me. One final favor, I guess…I dunno. I haven’t seen it yet, so I’ll go on your say-so with this one.”

  “Sure. I’ll take a look when I have a minute.”

  “Cool.” With a casual wave, Chuck sauntered off.

  Jack sat down behind his desk and automatically pulled out a pad and pen. He liked making notes on paper…there was something about the feel of the old-fashioned instruments that brought out his creativity a helluva lot more than the clack of keys on a keyboard. He’d plotted most of his films that way, and now he was plotting something even more important.

  His future.

  And it looked like he was about to go into real estate.

  * * * * *

  “Name?”

  “Uh…” For a split-second, Daphne had no idea what her name was.

  The question was fired at her by a rather officious guard at the studio gate. He was a far cry from the semi-insensate game player who’d casually waved them through before. Well, duh. Of course he’d waved them through. She’d been with Big John Johnson, who probably paid the kid’s salary.

  “Ma’am? Your name?” The guard was waiting impatiently.

  “Oh…sorry. Daphne. Daphne Littlewood.”

  He checked his clipboard. “Okay, Ms. Littlewood. Go on through…down the main drag…first on your right. The BJ parking lot is at the end.” He snapped his window shut.

  BJ parking lot? Daphne flushed bright pink. Surely they hadn’t named a parking lot after…

  Common sense rushed to the frontal lobes of her still-confused brain. Big John. Not…not…what she was thinking. Oh heavens above. She was turning into a confirmed scarlet woman.

  Hello. My name’s Daphne. I’m a sexaholic.

  Hello Daphne.

  Visions of twelve-step programs and supportive group meetings faded as Daphne carefully drove to the parking lot outside the nondescript building, and yes…there was Jack’s Corvette. At least he was here.

  She clutched her bag and the gift-wrapped book as she crossed the asphalt lot, looking for anything that resembled a main entrance. There wasn’t one. Jack had brought her through a side door the other night, which was now quite securely locked.

  What there was, was two people having a very heated argument.

  “You bastard. I should shoot you where you stand.” A tall blonde with hair pulled into a tight braid was obviously furious with the man in front of her. “You damn near ruined everything, you incompetent asshole.”

  “Are you mad because of just now…or because of last night?” The man reached out and brushed his hand over her cheek with a sexy grin.

  His gesture was met with a curled lip and a hefty swing, which resulted in the sound of a very hard slap up against his face.

  The blonde spun on her heel and stalked away, her boots ringing loudly on the pavement.

  “So does this mean tomorrow night’s off?” The guy yelled after her retreating back.

  The blonde lifted her arm and raised her middle finger over her shoulder. She didn’t even bother to face him.

  The man blinked.

  So did Daphne. She recognized him. It was…what was his name? Lou. That was it. It was Lou from the video store. And as his identity came to her, Daphne also realized that the woman had been there too, only with a different hairdo and a lot less clothing.

  Lou rubbed his face where she’d landed her punch, and glanced at Daphne. “Gotta love a woman who knows the value of physical action.”

  “Um…gosh…I’m sorry. I wasn’t…I mean…um…”

  His face creased into a grin. “Don’t sweat it, babe. Just a lover’s tiff. She can’t get enough of me.”

  “Hmpf.” Daphne decided to reserve judgment on that opinion. Besides, it was none of her business. What was her business was finding Jack. “Actually, I’m trying to find the front door to…” She nodded at the building. No way in hell was she going to ask a stranger for directions to BJ’s studio.

  “Looking for Big John’s place?”

  She nodded.

  “Right around the corner, honey. Entrance is tucked away in back…”

  “Thanks. I hope everything…” She nodded her head at the car that was now laying down rubber tracks in the parking lot as the blonde roared away, “…works out for you.”

  “It will.” Lou tucked his hands in his pockets and sauntered off, looking quite unconcerned that a portion of his face bore the imprint of a thunderingly good smack.

  Daphne shrugged. It must be the movie business. Lots of odd people and even odder behavior.

  She went in search of Jack.

  * * * * *

  The desk in front of him was littered with torn-off sheets of paper, and his hair was mussed to something a hedgehog would have turned its nose up at, but Jack was buzzed.

  It would work. It would fucking work.

  He’d crunched numbers, jotted ideas, scratched them out and jotted down new ones. When it came to planning he was the best. This was how he’d storyboarded his movies…and now it was a written, no—make that scrawled—storyboard for his future.

  He leaned back and sighed, closing his eyes and sweeping the detritus mentally out of his brain. One more thing he had to do…Chuck had asked him…oh yeah. The audition footage.

  With a sigh he swiveled to his monitor and found the appropriate icon. A pair of panties. He grinned and wondered where the hell Chuck had found that particular graphic.

  Double clicking on it, he leaned back in his chair and stuck his feet up, prepared to analyze and comment on the footage.

  To his surprise, it was silent for a moment as his video player software activated. He cranked the speakers up in case he’d turned them off without realizing it. Then, the usual graphic introduction flickered to life.

  But there was no music…no typical footage…not even the classic clapboard signal for the cameraman to start the film rolling.

  Just a softly lit room that looked…vaguely familiar.

  “Look up there and tell me what you see…”

  Jesus Christ. It was his voice coming over the speakers.

  The image brightened a little, and sure as shit…it was Daphne. Facing away from the camera and looking at her own image on the screen beyond.

  “Good lord…that’s me.”

  On the monitor, he saw her hand rise to cover her mouth. Fucking hell. They’d been caught—filmed—the night they’d spent here doing…oh my God.

  Jack’s heels hit the ground as he jumped in his chair. Somebody’s balls were gonna get seriously damaged for this.

  Chuck.

  That rat-bastard. He’d have known what Jack was planning…he had the technical know-how to set it up. Shit shit sh
it.

  Jack’s hand trembled over the mouse. He wanted to kill it, delete the file and pretend it never existed, but he couldn’t—something held him motionless, watching…

  As movies went, it was nothing out of the ordinary. But for Jack, it was like watching his life pass before his eyes.

  Every move they’d made, every little nuance of their caresses had been captured, preserved in digital format, and stored on a hard drive. He was riveted by Daphne’s expressions, by the sheen on her skin…he could even see the little pulse that beat so strongly at the base of her neck when she was aroused. It drove him crazy.

  He saw himself touching her, encouraging her, and his cock hardened immediately as she responded. The memory of her letting go flooded him with emotions, just as the images of her letting go flooded him with arousal.

  The sounds and sights of their lovemaking held him entranced as he relived that one incredible night.

  Seeing Daphne like this was…different to being there with her. Although he was hard and hungry for her, he had a chance to notice little things…the way her eyelids flickered as she found her clit…the sigh she gave when she took his cock inside her cunt and slid down on him…and the cry of pleasure, echoing loudly round his office, that signaled her orgasm.

  He’d been so involved in the moment he’d not seen these things…little things that now meant so much.

  As did Daphne.

  The image froze, Daphne laying on top of him, sated, his hand just resting on her bare buttock.

  Jack realized that his work on his future, all his planning, all his strategies and storyboards would have no meaning at all…if Daphne wasn’t a part of it.

  “Damn, babe…I love you so much…” He reached out a hand and stroked her buttock on the monitor. “I hope to God you’ll forgive me when I tell you the truth. I hope you’ll understand…”

  “Maybe you’d better ask me and find out. Big John.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Daphne had found her way into the studios without much difficulty, and had been pointed towards “Big John’s” office by an efficient-looking receptionist. Surprised that the woman had human-sized breasts, little cleavage to speak of, and a very business-like attitude, Daphne had thanked her and made her way down the hallway to a half-open door at the end.

  It was late now, the offices were quiet, the studio dimmed—apparently there’d been no filming today—and she heard the murmur of voices as she neared the end of the hallway.

  She froze.

  It was her voice. And Jack’s.

  Tiptoeing silently into the large office, she stopped dead. Jack was sitting with his back to her, behind a large desk littered with papers. In front of him, and clearly visible to Daphne, was a healthy-sized computer monitor, and on that…

  Oh. My. God.

  For the second time that day, Daphne felt her knees buckle, and she clung on to what was left of her sanity with both hands, her toes and her front teeth.

  They’d been filmed.

  Filmed doing—ohmigod that—not to mention…that.

  A sick and ugly lump grew in her stomach and spread to her throat. Did these people have no morals? Did these men do this all the time with their dates? Share videos over coffee? Save the best for the Christmas parties?

  She caught her own voice… “I’m making you crazy?”

  Hah. She’d show this…this voyeur…crazy. Her knuckles tightened around the heavy book in her arms. It would make a very satisfying sound if she heaved it across the room at that male head.

  Her muscles tensed, but then she heard his voice on the speakers. “Please…Daph…”

  And in spite of the disgust that threatened to choke her, she found herself watching the couple on the screen, scarcely able to realize that the woman writhing and moaning in pleasure was herself.

  And then she caught a glimpse of him.

  Jack.

  Upside down, his face was a study in emotions—raw sensuality poured from every expression, and nothing was held back.

  Even Daphne had to admit that this wasn’t the face of a man putting on a show for the cameras. This was real. This was someone loving someone else. A man loving a woman. Jack…loving her.

  She held her breath, waiting for the moment to end and the images to flicker to their inevitable finale. The sound of her own orgasm shuddered into her ears and she felt a blush spread over her cheeks.

  Damn, she was loud.

  She swallowed down a ball of something bittersweet, and took a breath, ready to launch into the biggest yell she could dredge from her lungs. But once more, she paused.

  The video had ended, the two of them lying boneless and exhausted on the huge bed. And Jack moved.

  His hand went to the screen and he ran a finger down over her image. “Damn, babe…I love you so much…”

  The words were almost a whisper, but in the silence of the office she heard them clearly. And her heart melted into a puddle.

  He loved her.

  Her ears burned and her eyes filled with tears.

  “I hope to God you’ll forgive me when I tell you the truth. I hope you’ll understand…”

  She stepped forward and spoke the first words that came into her head. “Maybe you’d better ask me and find out. Big John.”

  If she’d detonated a small grenade behind him, Jack couldn’t have jumped higher. “Jesus Christ, you scared me.”

  He was as white as a sheet, eyes green and intense as he stared at her.

  “And you shocked me.” She gripped the book tightly, holding it protectively against her. “This…” She nodded at the monitor. “You. Who you are… I know it all. Why didn’t you tell me, Jack?”

  He closed his eyes for a moment and she saw his throat move as he gulped. “I couldn’t.” He paused and opened his eyes again, staring straight into hers. “I was afraid.”

  “Afraid? Of what?”

  He sighed. “So many things, Daphne. Too many to explain, some I don’t even understand myself. But above all…that I’d lose you.”

  Daphne crossed the room and put the book down, following it with both her hands as she leaned across his desk. “Listen to me, and listen well, Jack Foster. I love you.”

  His eyes lit up, but she continued before he could speak. “I love Jack Foster. The man who makes my world a better place. I don’t care about Big John Johnson or what he does for a living, because he’s not you. He’s simply a small part of who you are. I’m glad I met you and that we slept together and I’m glad for all the things we’ve done together. Not because you’re some big movie guy, but because you’re Jack. My Jack. You’re not going to lose me. Do you understand?”

  Jack seemed bereft of speech.

  “Nod if you understand me, Jack.”

  He nodded.

  “Good. Now. About this damn video…”

  “Honey, I can explain…” Words tumbled from Jack’s mouth in a sudden avalanche of apologies. “It was a prank. A practical joke. I swear on my mother’s best teapot that nobody’s seen it but me. Us. Honest to God, Daph…”

  He was stuttering, and Daphne felt a little bubble of laughter building inside her. She sternly quelled it. He wasn’t going to get off scot-free on this one. “So you people do this all the time, do you? For a lark?”

  “No, Daph…I swear… Chuck’s been after me since I pulled a stunt on him…”

  Daphne raised an eyebrow.

  “You see there was this goat…”

  She raised her hand. “Stop right there. I get the picture.”

  “Daph…” Jack stood up shakily from his chair. “Did you mean what you just said?”

  “Which part?”

  “The part about…about loving me?”

  He looked uncertain, unsure of himself, and so damnably perfect that every thought of wicked revenge went right out of Daphne’s head and was replaced by other even more wicked thoughts. “Yes.”

  “Daph.” The word was exhaled as Jack rounded the desk and moved to her. “
Oh Daph.”

  Before she could blink she was in his arms and his lips were on hers.

  He held her close and kissed her like she was a storybook heroine, bending her backwards over his arm and—yes—ravaging her mouth with his.

  She’d never had her mouth ravaged before and decided she rather liked it. She ravaged back.

  Tongues met and merged, lips slid comfortably across other lips and bodies heated from the friction their caresses were generating. For Daphne, it was a kiss like no other. This was the first time they’d touched…loved…with no secrets between them. And with their emotions out in the open.

  The pressure eased as Jack’s lips gentled on hers. “God, I…Daph…” His breath whispered across her moist skin.

  “For a high powered film director, you’re a bit lacking in the dialogue department.” She nestled into his shoulder and grinned at him, feeling the flush of desire flooding her cheeks.

  “Actions speak louder than words, babe…” His hand slid up to cup her breast. “But in case I didn’t make myself clear, I love you.”

  “I love you too. Jack. Whoever you are.”

  “I’m just Jack. As of tonight, truly honestly just Jack.”

  She looked at him in puzzlement. “I don’t understand?”

  He tugged her behind the desk and sat her down in his lap. “Let me tell you a story about a kid with a passion for movies, Big John Johnson and an old theater.”

  “Does it have a happy ending?”

  “That’s up to you. And me. It hasn’t been written yet.”

  “Ah.” She snuggled against him. “So tell me.”

  * * * * *

  It was dark by the time Jack finished his story, since it was interrupted with frequent kisses and sighs and murmurs from Daphne.

  It was a rare moment out of time for him—sharing his life and his thoughts with a woman. He’d never done it before, never wanted to before, and the enormity of it would have made him extremely nervous if he hadn’t had such a warm armful of femininity hanging onto his every word.

  “And then this happened…” He gestured at his monitor. “So I’m going to delete that right away—”

 

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