Perfectly Scripted

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Perfectly Scripted Page 19

by Christy Pastore


  I watched him obsessively as he pulled a T-shirt over his head. All the muscles in his back contracted—masculine perfection. I stared. I couldn’t help myself.

  “I can feel you staring at me.” His rich Irish accent purred, sending goose bumps across my skin.

  Fuck me. I didn’t know if it was because we’d been around each other for so many months and I was just used to his Irish brogue, but it was like I was hearing it for the first time all over again.

  “I’m just appreciating the physical assets of my hot-as-hell boyfriend.”

  He smirked while playfully flexing his muscles. Then he dropped to the floor and started doing push-ups, alternating those with crunches. I must have fueled his ego. As I was about to turn on the hair dryer, my phone alerted me to a text message from my sister.

  CHARLOTTE: I know you are probably still enjoying your romantic weekend, but I need to know if you are going home for Perry’s birthday bash.

  Shit. Was that coming up?

  I swiped the screen to open my text messages only to realize I had a message from Tinley as well. Actually, I had a couple from her. She wanted to know how I was feeling and if we would like to have dinner with her next week.

  Ronan and I don’t socialize all that much with other people. In fact, I’d never met any of his friends. Does he have any friends? I giggled. Of course he had friends.

  Doesn’t he?

  For the first time in a long time, I’d become the girl wrapped up in her relationship.

  Wow, I didn’t see this coming.

  After I finished drying my hair, I replied to Charlotte.

  ME: I haven’t decided yet. I will get back to you.

  In our ginormous closet, I slipped on a pair of shorts and my favorite New York Giants T-shirt. I loved football, and it didn’t hurt that Lucan and Charlotte had a suite at the stadium. The season has been over for a while. Did I even watch the Super Bowl this year?

  This was ridiculous. I needed to meet some of Ronan’s friends. He’d mention someone named Matthew and a Liam. Or was it Leo? Maybe a dinner party would be in order, or perhaps something less formal.

  “Ronan!” I yelled as I sprinted from the closet to the bedroom. “Where are you?”

  “I’m over here in the den,” he called out.

  I found him stretched out on the couch, watching the news, and looking uber sexy. I nestled between his legs and grabbed the remote, muting the television. He’d have no choice but to give me his undivided attention.

  “Can I help you?” he asked, pretending to be annoyed.

  “Do you have any friends?”

  He laughed, crossing his arms behind his head. “Of course I have friends. Why? Are you trying to set one of your friends up on a date or something?”

  “No. Why would you think that?”

  A smile teased the corners of his lips. “Because you’re a girl. Isn’t that what you do?”

  “Not always.” I shoved at his shoulder, and he caught me by the wrists. “I really want to meet some of your friends. Tell me about them.”

  “Are you looking for backups?”

  I laughed. “Would you be serious for a moment?”

  “Very well. Yes, I can be serious.” He pulled me closer.

  I hooked my legs over his, resting my head on his chest. “You mentioned a Liam…Leo? Tell me about him.”

  “Liam Frost. I went to boarding school with his brother, Christian. Liam and his wife, Ashleigh, live here, in the city. I’m not sure what she is doing these days, but I do know that she’s pregnant with their first child. He is the VP of publishing for Panion Publishing Group.”

  “Panion owns One Park Ave Magazine.”

  He nodded. “In addition to a few other publications.”

  “Anyone else? You surely have more than one,” I teased.

  “Matthew Barber. He’s a mate of mine.”

  “As in the actor?” My voice rose a few octaves, and I pushed up to face him. “Matthew Barber, the hottie featured in those new Calvin Klein fragrance ads?”

  He grinned. “By your reaction, I’ve decided that Matthew and I are no longer friends.”

  “I only have eyes for you,” I said reassuringly.

  “Beauty, what is the point of all of this? I feel you have an agenda.”

  “Well, it has occurred to me that we may be in serious violation of shutting the world out of our relationship.”

  “Yes. That is the point,” he said, rubbing his palm up and down the back of my neck. “No paparazzi invasion.”

  “Specifically, I meant our friends. We don’t have to go crazy or do the club scene,” I countered. “I realize that we were keeping a low profile for many reasons, but I think we can have a normal relationship without cutting ourselves off from our friends, date nights, and family events.”

  “What do you suggest?”

  “Once in a while, we give the people a tiny taste of our relationship,” I told him. “Like we did in Cabo. We controlled the story. But who knows? People might not even give a shit about us.”

  “You realize we won’t actually be able to control the paparazzi all the time? But I do understand what you’re saying. We control the narrative.”

  “Exactly. What about that hot Hollywood couple’s interview Darcy suggested? We could do that.”

  Smiling, he said, “I think the deadline for that may have passed.”

  “Bummer.” I leaned up for a kiss and then dropped my chin to his chest. “Oh! Before I forget, the second weekend in May, my mom is having a surprise party for Perry. Do you have to work?”

  His laugh vibrated deeply and my head bopped against his chest. “I forgot to mention my little sister, Ella, might be coming to visit in a few weeks. I’ll need to get back to you about the party for Perry. Is that okay?”

  “Sure thing. It seems we don’t need to worry about filling our social calendars because it looks like we are on well on our way.”

  “I’d prefer not to share you with anyone,” he sighed.

  “Maybe we should have a party when your sister comes to visit.” I rolled up to face him.

  “If there is one thing I know about my little sister, it’s that she most certainly loves a good party.”

  “Fabulous,” I replied, jumping to my feet. “I’ll start prepping ideas tomorrow after work. We can make a short guest list and adjust accordingly when we know that she’s definitely coming.”

  Ronan grabbed me by the waist as I sauntered past him, pulling me into his lap. “You become extremely excited planning events. There’s this sort of dazzle in your eyes.”

  I laughed. “I guess it’s a rush, the mass chaos of prepping, planning, and executing.”

  He gave me a wicked smile. “How about planning a party for me?”

  “What kind of party?”

  “A party for two—something private,” he said before yanking my mouth down to meet his for a breath-stealing kiss. “Deeply intimate,” he whispered, brushing his hand up my rib cage to caress my breast.

  “Ronan,” I breathed.

  I shoved my hands through his silky, chestnut curls. His mouth sealed around mine once more, licking and sucking, making me wet and needy. I was sure I could come just from kissing him. Then my greedy desire for his taste kicked in, and I devoured him, catching his lower lip with my teeth. He groaned when I pushed him down into the couch, my hands running down his stomach and over his erection.

  “Holliday…Christ.”

  I slipped my hand inside his pants and wrapped my hand around his cock, stroking slowly, enjoying the feel of him. With delicious swiftness, Ronan hardened to exquisite perfection.

  “I want you,” I said, licking my bottom lip.

  Sliding off the couch, and pulling his pants with me, I sank to my knees in front of him. My mouth was on him before I had time to generate a thought.

  He exhaled harshly. “Oh, how I love fucking your sweet mouth.”

  I swirled my tongue around his cock, teasing him as the thick vei
ns throbbed against my palms. His masculine scent, the softness of his skin, and his guttural moans of pleasure made me moan.

  “Christ, yes.”

  The rough vibration rippled through his entire body, driving me to suck a little harder. My lips tightened around his wide crown. I pulled away then sucked him back in. His head fell back against the cushions, and his breath hissed between his teeth.

  Pushing into my mouth, he groaned, “Take me deep, my beauty.”

  Aroused by his command, I hollowed my cheeks and took him all the way in. His hands pushed into my hair pulling and tugging, spurring me on. I squirmed, driven by lust and his low, guttural moans of pleasure.

  “You’re making me unravel,” he growled, gripping me by the back of the head, forcing my eyes to meet his.

  The way he was looking at me drove me wild with desire. I cupped his balls, gently rolling them, feeling how tight and heavy they were.

  “Christ, I love watching you suck my cock…Keep sucking.” He made a sound that was filled with the sweetest, most superb agony. His hips thrust upwards, and he held my head steady, controlling the rhythm. “Just like that. You look undeniably gorgeous with my cock in your mouth.”

  I was slick and hot from thinking about how we must have looked in that moment. Craving his orgasm, I clutched his thighs as I continued sucking him deeper, frantically licking his cock.

  “Ah, Holliday.” His voiced rasped with fiery pleasure. “I’m going…to come.”

  Starved in my urgency to taste him, I gripped his dick with both hands and massaged him with my tongue. I loved this man so much that it hurt, and knowing I could make him feel this way was overwhelming.

  He squeezed his eyes shut. “Yes.”

  Then his whole body jerked as I took everything he had. I relished each hot spurt of liquid he pumped into my mouth, savoring the salty taste gliding down my throat. Watching him fall apart was electrifying. The way he responded to me—that was a gift.

  He extended his hand to me. “Get up here.” The sultry command of his voice sent a thrilling shiver through me.

  I scrambled to my feet before climbing up his sensational body to straddle him.

  “Sweet Christ, Holliday. You have an extremely talented tongue.”

  “You’re so fucking hot,” I said, wrapping my arms around his neck.

  His lips pressed against mine. “Hot for you,” he growled, stripping my shirt off and then pulling it over my head.

  “Ronan…” My breath caught in my throat as his hand squeezed my breast.

  As I traced his lips with my tongue, his cock thickened against my bare skin. A soft moan escaped my lips when his hand slipped underneath the fabric of my shorts, finding me wet.

  He smirked. “Holy Christ, you’re soaked.” he said, before taking my bottom lip into his mouth.

  I sucked in a breath as he pushed two fingers inside me, teasingly moving in and out.

  “Tell me what you want,” he prompted.

  That always drove me crazy. Of which he was cleverly aware, and I suspected he loved the erotic torment of it all.

  “I’m sure you already know the answer.”

  He gripped his arm around my waist, swinging his feet to the floor. Before I knew it we were standing. He pulled his V-neck tee over his head, tossing it to the floor. He stood before me naked, sexy, and beautiful. I leaned forward, pressing my lips the middle of his chest. He hissed as I feathered kisses across his skin. My hands roamed along the muscles of his abdomen and around to his back. I heard myself moan from just feeling and appreciating his body.

  “Take your shorts off,” he whispered.

  My hands went to my waistband, pushing the fabric down to the floor, where it pooled at my feet.

  “Gorgeous,” he said, brushing my hair over my shoulders. He pulled me into him, tilting my mouth to meet his, kissing me softly. I melted into him, my hands sliding through his hair, holding him tight.

  “Ronan,” I said, breathless.

  He was touching me so gently that it almost felt like a feather floating across my skin or a silk ribbon winding around my entire body. His hands were warm as he trailed them down my stomach and back up my thighs.

  “I can’t stop touching you,” he breathed.

  “Yes…Please, don’t stop,” I moaned into our kiss.

  After lifting me up, he eased us both to the floor. He hands glided lower, pushing his fingers inside me once again.

  “Holliday,” he said warmly. “You’re so wet for me. Do you know what this does to me to know I have caused your body to respond in such a manner?”

  I was drunk with desire, under a spell, and lost for words. Nodding in desperation, I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Yes, I know.”

  My hips bucked upward, shamelessly drawing Ronan’s fingers deeper inside me. He pressed his lips to the spot between my neck and my shoulder, biting me softly. Goose bumps splashed across my skin, the feeling an indulgent kind of agony.

  “Let me ride you,” I begged.

  He gave me a cocky grin. “Beauty, that’s lovely request.”

  Then he rolled, pulling me on top of him. He gripped his cock, holding himself steady as I sank onto his erection. I gasped at the feel of him stretching me, filling me.

  “Ronan,” left my lips in a shaky whimper.

  Supporting me, he dug his fingers into my hips as I took a little more of him. He was so thick and hard. It was good. Too good.

  Slick and hot, I was in dangerous territory of coming. I struggled to maintain my control before he was deep inside me.

  His green eyes landed on mine, and a wicked grin flashed across his face.

  “Hold on, sweetheart. I got you,” he promised darkly before thrusting up and shoving into me.

  “Ahhhh…” I breathed as he buried himself inch by delectable inch.

  “Now…fuck me, Holliday. Fuck me as hard as I fuck you.”

  I cried out, slamming my hips to his, taking the last of him.

  Rough sounds of pleasure rumbled through his throat. “So good…Christ, you feel so fucking good.”

  The sounds of my ass slapping against his thighs echoed off the walls in the room. I fucked him with every lustful fiber of my being. He allowed me the gift to take him the way I wanted and use him for my own pleasure.

  “Yes…Yes…” My head fell forward, the ends of my hair brushing against his chest. I wanted this to last a little longer, but there was no way I could hang on. Everything in me went tight; my breathing was quick and shallow. “So close…So good…”

  “Harder…” He rolled up, taking my nipple in his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue, making me scream.

  “Ronan…I’m…I’m…” Arching my back, I screamed through my orgasm. A long moan escaped my throat as my pussy rippled around his cock.

  He growled my name, rocking through the spasms of my orgasm. It was nothing but the sound of pure satisfaction.

  My eyes screwed shut, and a dizzying relief washed through me. I could barely open my eyes, but somehow, I managed when his hand pushed through my hair and down my cheek.

  “My beauty, watching you explode in pleasure is my greatest fulfillment.”

  I buried my face in his throat. “I love you.”

  “I love you,” he whispered.

  With a gentle nudge, I lifted my head to face him.

  “I will always be yours, Holliday. And you will always be mine.”

  Ronan

  Six Weeks Later

  After dinner, Holliday and I found ourselves, lounging in the living room. Tonight the weather was brisker than normal, which allowed us to enjoy what would more than likely be the last use of the fireplace. For the most part, winter had become a distant memory, washed away by the warm rain showers of spring.

  “What? Ronan, look,” her voice rang out in a singsong shrill.

  Looking up from the paper, I took in a surprising bit of information.

  ACTRESS HEATHER YOUNG LEAVES REHAB 30 DAYS EARLY.

  Holli
day’s brow scrunched as she grabbed the TV remote and turned the volume up. Cameras were set up outside the rehab facility. Various pictures of Heather rotated across the screen along with silent video clips of her movie and television roles. They cut to a live shot of her Beverly Hills home.

  “Heather isn’t going there, dummies. Not when she was getting treatment in Upstate New York,” she scolded the television. “God, I hope she’s feeling better.”

  The reporter said that Heather had received an early dismissal, and agreed to outpatient treatment.

  “She doesn’t have to stay the full sixty days?”

  “No.” I shook my head. “I have a feeling she picked her own treatment a la carte.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that she probably went to the spa, had a few massages and facials, did some yoga, and sipped smoothies.”

  Holliday arched an eyebrow “You don’t think she actually took the treatment seriously?”

  I shrugged. “Let’s say I have seen this before.”

  The reporter ended the segment by noting that Heather had agreed to continue her treatment on an outpatient basis and was released into the care of a loved one.

  “Grady,” she mumbled.

  Before I could give Holliday my full thoughts on the matter, the next news story flashed across the screen.

  DEREK SAUNDERS TO OPEN NEW HOT SPOT IN MIDTOWN.

  The camera cut to a live shot of Midtown, and a reporter chimed in, “Entertainment Vibes has learned exclusively that entrepreneur and Side Effects Media Mogul Derek Saunders has acquired commercial space in Midtown Manhattan. 53rd street and Broadway could be this era’s Studio 54 experience…Set to open sometime in June…”

  “That’s a little more than a month away. Truly a terrible time to open a club. The city is practically asleep during the weekends in the summer with everyone going to The Hamptons.”

  In my post-revenge haze, I wished like hell I had put an escape clause in my contract with Saunders. Again, I mentally kicked myself. Fuck. It was bad enough I’d taken his money. Money that was more than likely directly from the sale of pornography films or other unsavory shit. Obviously, this was not one of my best laid plans. And that’s what happens when you’re driven by anger, hate, blinding rage, and revenge instead of common sense.

 

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