by Shyla Colt
“Won’t that make me look like I’m vying for votes?”
“We don’t have a say in the winner. And I think for both of our sakes, we should keep this under wraps.”
“Yes,” I say, relieved he understands.
“Being with me won’t always be easy, Hart. My schedule is insane, my fans are intense, and I will do what I think is necessary to keep you safe. I opened myself up to the aspects of this life, and I’ll bear the consequences alone.”
“I’m not a flower who needs to be sheltered,” I protest.
“No. But you should be. I take care of the people who are important to me, Hartley. I know you have to be strong for everyone at home. It won’t be that way between us.” His words are like strong arms wrapping around me and holding me close.
“I’d like that.” During my most challenging year, he’s shone a ray of hope and sunshine through the murky skies. I’m no longer alone, facing what feels like an insurmountable goal.
“Good. Did you eat today?”
I smile at his routine check-in and let his deep voice lull me into a relaxing state that will lead me to sweet dreams of the man I’m falling for.
YOON
Things have been strained between Sang and me since I walked out on him a few weeks ago. He hasn’t approached me about Jiwoo again. Instead, he’s always pushing his own agenda, making sure we’re seated next to each other, and seen walking together as often as possible. Already the internet is speculating. He sticks close to me as we ride the elevator up to our rooms.
“Don’t think about sneaking away to see your American.”
“She has a name,” I say quietly.
“See how much fame she’s gained just from being on our show? She expects more.”
“You pretend to know her so well when you’ve only spoken with her once.”
“I know her type. Do you know how upset your fans will be? Suddenly, Koreans aren’t good enough for you.”
“I have never said that,” I answer smoothly. I can’t let Sang get under my skin.
“We both know it’s not what you say that matters.”
I won’t give Hart up. I have never felt this way about anyone. She knows the real me underneath the suave and perfect exterior, and still, she wants me. The weaknesses I struggle with haven’t turned her away. That’s rare and deserves to be protected.
“I deserve to have a life outside of my work. To one day marry and possibly have a family. Many actors do this.”
His jaw drops. “You hardly know this woman. What is she telling you that has you turning into a stranger before my eyes?”
“Nothing.”
“Americans are much freer. Is it the promise of sex?” he scoffs.
I reach out to hit the emergency button and stop the car. Using my height, I force him into the wall of the elevator. “Do not speak about her like that. I will not tolerate it.”
His eyes widen. “You would turn against me?”
“You’re doing a good job of severing the ties of our relationship on your own.”
“Do you need assistance?” a voice crackles over the speaker.
“I am so sorry. I accidentally pressed the emergency button.”
I press it again once more. We rumble into motion, each of us remaining on our side of the car, like boxers about to go into battle. The gauntlet her been thrown down. All I can do is wait and see what the fallout will look like. It’s past time I take back my life. The tension is stifling. I all but flee when the metal doors slide open, and I make my way to my hotel room with long strides. Closing the door behind me, I sink down on the edge of the bed and grip the sheets. I battle my anxiety as my heart spikes and sweat coats my forehead.
Breathing deeply, I walk myself through all the reasons why this is necessary. I can’t fully live when I’m not in control of my life. I’m no longer a child who needs constant guidance or protection from impulsive and reckless behavior. A life lived solely for accolades and the entertainment of others would be empty for me. My family is taken care of. I can take risks I couldn’t before. An alarm chimes on my phone, signaling it’s time to meet up with my girlfriend for breakfast.
I grab the manilla envelope she sent me with directions. Staring in the mirror, I watch the face I know by heart disappear with a prosthetic nose, facial hair, and false teeth. No one would mistake the person in front of me for Yoon Kim. After adding a long, black wig to the getup, I slip a dark hoodie on over my T-shirt and walk down the hall. I take the elevator down to the buffet-style breakfast area. I hold my breath as a few teenage girls enter, but they pay me no mind. My muscles unclench, and I lean against the wall, enjoying my visit to the land of normalcy.
I exit the elevator, just another person who blends into the background. Whistling, I stroll to the eating area with an extra spring in my step. I spot Hartley seated at a table near the back, and my stomach flutters. Without a stitch of make-up in yoga pants and an oversized, heather gray shirt hanging off one shoulder, she’s stunning. I head for her, and she waves, grinning. Her shoulders shake with laughter as I reach her and sink into the seat beside her.
“Wow.” She cups my face, turning it from right to left. “You did an excellent job with this.”
“You did drill me on the application over and over on Skype.”
“I wanted to make sure you could do it alone.” She pouts, and I chuckle, squeezing her hand. A jolt travels through my body. I rest our joined fingers on my knee, enjoying the closeness. “I’ve waited so long to touch you.”
She leans closer. “You can touch me all you like, Yoon.”
I clear my throat as my pants grow tighter. Her frank talk is different from what I’m used to, but also one of the reasons I’m so enamored. She speaks her mind honestly and openly.
“How was your flight?” She traces her finger over my knuckles, igniting tiny sparks in her wake.
“Long.”
“I’m sure,” she says sympathetically. “How are you feeling?”
“Better now that I’m with you.” I bring our joined hands up to my lips. “I want to see you tonight.”
“We don’t want to get caught,” she cautions.
“I’m not going to waste a moment of the time I have with you, Hart.” Her eyes dilate, and I can practically taste her desire. I want to bend down and devour her lips, but I know once I start, I won’t want to stop. Our first kiss won’t be in a crowded dining area in front of strangers. I’ve had time to plan this out, and I won’t ruin it with my impatience. “Come on, let’s get food.” I stand and help her up, guiding her to the serving area. For the past few months, she’s worked herself into the ground trying to be everything to everyone. I plan to give her all the attention and pampering she deserves.
“DO NOT SAY A WORD ABOUT the contest today,” Hart warns as she steps into my hotel room.
“What? I can’t compliment you on your beautiful singing voice?” I tease.
She cringes. The contest to imitate popular Korean songs was interesting, to say the least.
Her elbow taps my stomach lightly, and I laugh. “You were so cute concentrating as you tried your best to imitate the words.”
“Only to you, I’m sure,” she huffs. The humor in her brown eyes takes the sting from her words.
“It was nearly impossible to sit on the panel and pretend I didn’t know you as well as I do. I couldn’t keep my eyes off you.” I rest my hand on her hip.
“You couldn’t?” Tipping her head up, she smiles.
“No.” My eyes keep returning to her as Sang watched me with a disapproving expression on his face.
“Your manager didn’t seem so happy. His lips were puckered like he swallowed a lemon in between filming.”
“He isn’t thrilled with me.”
“Did you dismiss him?”
I shake my head. “No. I told him things were going to change. He didn’t like it.”
She winces. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.”
/> “I can’t help but feel like it might be. Sang doesn’t approve of you seeing me, does he?”
“He wouldn’t for anyone. He wants me to remain single and appear available to the public.” I scowl. Unless it’s a fake relationship with the public.
“If this is going to ruin things for you—”
“Don’t even think it, Hartley.” I use her full name to show her how serious I am. She shivers, and I pull her closer. “When I said you were mine, it wasn’t a statement I made lightly. There’s been something missing in my life for a long time. You fill that empty space.” Bending down, I brush our lips together. I use the tip of my tongue to trace her lips, and she parts them. I delve inside and moan. She tastes like the marshmallows she shoved into her mouth for her final contest of the day. Heat pools in my stomach, and my cock swells, straining against my jeans. I explore every inch of her mouth, and she whimpers, pressing her full breasts into my chest. I swear I can feel her heat searing me through the denim that separates us.
Her tongue tangles with mine, and I’m lost. Spearing my fingers through her coarse curls, I tilt my head this way and that to gain more access to her sweetness. Her leg creeps up around my hip, opening her to me, and notch myself in the space created. I rock against her, and we both groan at the friction. I kiss my way to her neck, sucking on the throbbing pulse point beating at a rapid speed in time with my heart. I press her back against the wall, lifting her up. Her arms wind around my neck, and her legs snake around my waist. Gripping her hips, I tilt her body. She arches her back, whimpering, and tugs on the strands of my hair. I growl, thrusting up against her. When she cries out, I press my lips to her, swallowing her passion down.
Panting, she grips my shoulders hard, digging her fingers into my flesh. “Yoon. Don’t stop. I’m so close.”
I spin us around.
“No,” she whimpers.
“When I make you come for the first time, I want to taste it.” The women I’ve been with weren’t always into my way of talking or taking control.
“Fuck, yes.” Hart doesn’t seem to have that problem.
I carry her to the bed and sit her on the edge.
“Let’s get these off you and let me see your pretty pussy.” I take my time removing her slip-ons and socks, then massage her feet. “Are you wet for me, Hartley?”
“So wet.”
“Hmm.” I pull down her zipper. “Let me check.” I slip my fingers inside of the black silk of her panties. Her heated slick coats my fingers. “Oh, baby, you’re flooded.”
“For you.” Her eyes blaze with want.
“That’s right, beautiful. Only for me.” I remove my fingers and bring them to my mouth, sucking off the sweet nectar. I pull them out with a pop. “I think I need a taste straight from the source.” I pull down her pants. “Lift your hips.” She obeys, and my dick turns to granite. “You’re such a good girl. Look at how well you listen.”
She nods her head, eager to do my bidding as I help her wiggle her way out of the jeans. I pull them down her legs and toss them aside, revealing her neatly trimmed, dripping pussy. Massaging her inner thighs, I lean forward and lick a path up her sodden slit. I circle her swollen clit and plunge deep, digging into the meal I’ve often dreamt about. Slipping her legs over my shoulders, I tilt her hips up for better access. Her flavor coats my tongue, and I’m lost in the smell, scent, and heat of her liquid sweetness. Her walls flex around me, and she tugs on my hair as she moves against my face.
“Don’t stop, Yoon. Oh, God. I’m going to come.”
I suck on her bud, and she gushes into my mouth, shaking and keening. I slurp up every drop, slowly easing her down as I pull away. I lick my lips.
She peers down at me, breathing hard as she smirks. “I never knew you had such a talented tongue.”
I kiss her mound and move up her body, pushing her shirt up as I do. I cup her plump breasts, flicking her stiff nipples through the black lace. I suck one and then the other into my mouth as she squirms beneath me. Plucking her stiff peaks, I drink in the sight of her beautiful body, writhing on the crisp, white sheets. I shove her shirt over her head and pop the front clasp of her bra.
“You’re overdressed, Mr. Kim,” she purrs.
I strip down, tossing my shirt over my shoulder.
“Now, the rest.”
I chuckle at her sultry tone. “As you wish.” I unbuckle my belt and take my time unbuttoning the top.
“Tease.”
“It’s always better for the wait.” Winking, I push my pants down, and my cock springs forward. The head is red and leaking. I stroke it as I step out of my pants. Sitting up, she wraps her hand around me and takes over stroking. Her tongue darts out to circle my head and dip into my slit, gathering my cream. My cock twitches.
“It’s been a long time. You keep that up, and it’ll be over before it begins.” I still her hand, and she slides down my cock, relinquishing the hold her mouth has on me. “I’m clean. Do I need a condom?”
“I’m clean, and I have an implant.” She bites her bottom lip. “But it’s been a long time.”
“I’ll go slow while I stretch out that tight little hole until it’s molded just for me.”
“Jesus, Yoon.”
“You like it when I talk to you like this, don’t you? It makes you cream.”
“Yes,” she moans.
I grip my cock. “Spread your legs for me.” I run my cock between her lips, coating myself in her slick as I tap her clit, over and over. Her lids grow heavy as I slowly ease the tip in. Her walls cling to me, and I groan as I force myself to stop, pulling out and pushing back in, never going too deep.
“Rub your clit.”
“Yes, sir.” She circles her bundle of nerves as I work myself deeper.
“Look at how I split you wide open.” Her walls flex, and I grunt. “Your pussy is so hungry for me.”
“You’re so big.”
“And you’re going to take every inch.” I push into the hilt and rest my head on her shoulder as she adjusts.
“I need you to move.”
I pull out and thrust deep. Digging her heels into my lower back, she matches me stroke for stroke. Our bodies slap together, and I eat at her mouth between thrusts. She opens her mouth in a silent scream as her body stiffens, and her walls flutter around me. The tension building in the base of my spine gives, and she milks me. Groaning, I fill her. I mark her neck with a bite the same as I mark her wet channel with my seed. I’m not letting Hartley Warren go.
Chapter Four
Hart
It’s the final day of the contest, and I’m not sure where I stand for chances of winning. It’s down to two other contestants and me—Karen from Maryland and super-fan Samantha from the Los Angeles area. Korean American actress Minji Hak is co-hosting with a group of popular Korean actors from K-Dramas with a similar vibe to bring in the crossover audiences.
“We are down to our final three. The first contest will be a sudden elimination,” Minji says.
The audience gasps, and I swallow hard. Everything is riding on this.
“It’s time for pillow fight!” A padded, round, red balancing beam is brought on stage along with tumbling mats. How does this involve a pillow fight?
“The point in this game is to remain seated—the first one to knock the other off wins. We’ve randomly selected our first two players. Karen and Hart.”
I flash a concerned look at the judge’s table. Yoon winks, and my nerves settle. The effect he has on me is terrifying and exhilarating at the same time. It’s like sky diving out of a plane and trusting all your equipment will work. I don’t know how we’ll make things work for us on opposite sides of the country, but I know a good thing when I have it. I’ve spent every night this week in his bed, falling asleep in his arms and waking up to his sweet kisses. I want to be there forever—
No, it’s too soon to be thinking things like that.
They hand us both oversized pillows, and we walk over to straddle the bea
ms. Situating myself, I grip the rounded structure with my legs.
“On the count of three. One, two, three! Pillow fight.”
The pillow mass slams into my head and my face. I close my eyes and guess where Karen is. Ducking my shoulders slightly, I aim for her core: side, stomach, and head. I swing with all my might. She lands a hit to the side of my head, and I slide to the side and flex my thighs, retaliating with another round of blows. I watch as Karen topples and falls to the side. She hits the mat, and a buzzer sounds. I unlock my aching legs and let myself slide to the side after her.
“Hart has won!” The audience cheers, and I rise to my feet. Minji walks over and holds my arm up. “The winner!”
I grin graciously.
“We’re down to two! Will Hart win it all for her sister, or will Superfan Samantha fulfill her ultimate dream? Tune in after the commercial break to find out.”
“And cut. Time to retouch make-up and set up for the final round,” the director calls.
Cameramen shift, and I’m steered off stage, mostly to blot down the shine from the lights and reapply concealer and a fresh coat of powder. I bow my head silently, praying as I sit in the green room while Samantha has her turn to be touched up. I didn’t come all this way to let my family and my town down. I don’t want Fiona to watch me lose on national television. Nerves hit hard, and I shift in my seat.
All too soon, we’re being lead back on stage.
“This is a classic game. The silver box.” Minji gestures toward the man in the black pants, white suit, and tie who walks over holding a silver box. I remember watching this game. “The object is to discover what’s in the box the fastest. Now you can only use your eyes for this one, ladies. Are you ready?”
“Yes!” we both cry.
Samantha looks at me with a fierce light of competitive spirit in her eyes. A smug smirk gives me pause. What does she know that I don’t?
“On three. Count it down with me, everyone. One, two, three!” A buzzer sounds, and the man sets down the silver box. He lifts the handle up slightly. I duck down, desperate to catch a glimpse of the item. I see a sliver of green before he closes it.
