by JD Nixon
“That’s lovely. I think.”
His arms tightened around me again. He hesitated as he spoke, finding it difficult to admit a weakness of any kind. “I’m afraid of losing you.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“I’m afraid of someone taking you away from me.”
“Who could possibly do that?”
“Someone bad . . . or someone good.” And I knew he was thinking of Farrell, because my mind flashed to him as well.
“Nobody’s taking me from you,” I soothed. “Now try to get some sleep. It’s so late.”
He wouldn’t though, never seemingly needing more than a couple of hours of sleep each night. But I was exhausted from my long, trying day and now the sex as well, so laid my head on his chest and closed my eyes.
“I will kill anyone who tries to take you away from me, Matilda.”
My eyes flew open. “You don’t mean that,” I said guardedly.
“Don’t I?”
I waited for him to say more, my heart thumping, but he didn’t and I settled back to sleep. I wanted to stay awake to think about his chilling words, but sleep claimed me before I even realised it had.
I didn’t know what he did during those long, quiet hours of darkness when he stayed awake. But I often stirred in the night to find his eyes on me, watching me closely as I slept, an unreadable, intense expression on his face. Sometimes I would rouse to find him roaming his hand over my body – not in lust, but almost in wonder, or as if he was trying to find the answer to a secret puzzle in the valleys and peaks of my generous curves.
If I were brutally honest with myself, I’d admit I wasn’t entirely comfortable with his intensity as a lover. It was not uncommon for us to have sex twice during the night, and if neither of us was in a hurry, to make it a third time the next morning. If I stirred during the night, he would often take advantage of that, his soft caresses turning ardent and insistent. I remember waking one such night to find him iron hard and stroking my inner thigh with intent.
“Oh Heller, not again?” I’d murmured sleepily.
“Yes again, my sweet,” he’d replied. “It seems I have an endless need for you. I never imagined for one moment how much I would crave having sex with the same woman over and over.”
So I’d let him screw me again, falling promptly asleep immediately afterwards, aware that he’d watch over me as I slept. On the rare occasions I needed some time away from him and didn’t join him in his bed, he would, like he had tonight, seek me out and we’d end up having sex anyway. It was almost as if there was no escaping his desires. I could not recall ever having so much sex with any of my other boyfriends or any of them needing it so often. Not that I was complaining, mind you, because sex with Heller was sensational, driving every coherent thought from my head every time we got it on. He knew what he was doing in the bedroom, confidently guiding my body and my senses to exquisite pleasures and helping me do the same to him. I’d learned a lot about sex from him and I’d thought I was fairly experienced as a lover when we began our relationship.
The next morning I woke up alone as usual, the side of the bed where Heller had been cool to the touch, indicating he’d been gone for a while. He was probably working out in the small gym on the third floor. But as he no longer allowed me to use that, I decided not to follow him there, settling instead for a quick workout in my own flat. My body complained about the exercise, not having received much in the past few months (apart from my nightly gymnastic routines with Heller).
I met him on the stairs as we both made our way down to the basement carpark, freshly showered and ready for another day.
“You might be interested in my newest clients,” he smiled, casually draping his arm around my shoulders.
“Might I?” I smiled back, inhaling the very masculine scent of the soap he used.
“In a few days, my men will be looking after a couple of film stars in town for an exhibition. They’re not as well-known as Ms Lemere, so the paparazzi shouldn’t be a problem this time.”
He was referring to Yoni Lemere, the ex-pat A-list Hollywood star I’d the misfortune of working with for what seemed at the time to be a very long week. I’d met Trent during that assignment, a thought that made me check my watch. I wasn’t in any hurry to get to work today, especially after that embarrassing incident on TV last night, but I also didn’t want to be late.
“Are you going to tell me these movie stars’ names?” I asked. I loved hearing about celebrities, though I’d found that meeting them wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.
His face stayed expressionless. “Busty Biggen and Roger Harder.”
My face fell with disappointment. “I’ve never heard of them.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear that, because they make adult entertainment movies. I understand they’re quite famous in their profession.”
I laughed. “Busty Biggen and Roger Harder? What terrible porn names! I assume she’s well-endowed in the chest region, and he’s equally well-endowed elsewhere?”
“How would I know, Matilda? Are you implying that I like to watch pornography?”
“No, you just like to act it out personally,” I joked, sliding my arm around his waist and squeezing.
He squeezed my shoulders in return and dropped a kiss on the top of my head. “That’s true, but I’ll admit to doing a certain amount of . . . research . . . on these clients.”
“How much ‘research’?”
“A couple of hours. For investigative purposes only, of course.”
“Of course,” I said, my mind spinning a million miles an hour. “Do you think they would let Trent interview them? It would make a really interesting story and . . .”
“A huge ratings hit?” he smiled.
I laughed again. “Well, yes, there is that too. Everyone would want to tune in for that interview. And after what happened yesterday, I feel I need to redeem myself with them at the studio.”
“Ah yes, that incident. I heard about it yesterday, but was only able to view the footage this morning. Knowing you, I shouldn’t be surprised about it, but I honestly don’t know how you get yourself into those kinds of situations, Matilda.”
I laughed again, more rueful this time. “I don’t either. I was trying to be helpful. Instead my butt featured on TV again and not in any flattering way.”
He ran his hand from my shoulder down to my butt and squeezed lightly. “This lovely peach is worth featuring on TV. Although . . .” He squeezed again, his hand this time a little experimental.
“Although what?”
“Perhaps you should schedule some time soon for a couple of workouts, my sweet.”
“Heller! Don’t be mean.”
He smiled slyly and leaned down to whisper in my ear. A shiver ran up my spine at even the feel of his breath on my cheek. “Remember, Matilda, any more than a handful is just a waste.”
“Luckily you have big hands,” I retorted, mildly snitty. Luckily for me, he had a big everything.
He laughed and on the point of reprimanding him again, a polite cough on the stairs behind us let us know we weren’t alone. We spun around to find Farrell also heading downstairs to collect one of the fleet vehicles to go to a job. His face was neutral, but his cool gray eyes assessed us, lingering on Heller’s hand still cupping my butt. I tried to discreetly remove his hand, embarrassed, but Heller didn’t cooperate. He smiled at Farrell in a way that wasn’t quite pleasant or friendly and deliberately ran his hand from my butt up to my shoulder and back down again. It was an unmistakable message – this woman belongs to me. I didn’t appreciate it.
Annoyed and uncomfortable, I broke free from him. “I have to go or I’ll be late.”
With a quick but obvious glance at Farrell, Heller pulled me towards him, his hand clasping the back of my neck in a grip I couldn’t escape. He pressed his lips down on mine, blocking the stairs and forcing Farrell to wait and watch the embrace.
When Heller released my lips, I stared into the ic
y depths of his eyes, trying to understand the reasons why he felt the need to do that to Farrell. But his emotions were impenetrable. He smirked and I broke away from him again, peeved with his behaviour.
“Bye, Hugh,” I said quietly, scurrying down the stairs.
“Bye, Chalmers,” Farrell replied, equally quiet. “Have a nice day.”
I stopped and turned, meeting his glance, my eyes flicking quickly to Heller. “You too,” I said, lowering my eyes and continuing on my way.
I hurried to work.
Chapter 4
Trent showed great interest in interviewing the two adult entertainment stars, his eyes lighting up at the thought of snaring guests such as them, virtually guaranteed to stir up controversy. Across the desk from him, I sipped on my extra-large, triple shot cafe latte and promised to see if I could locate a contact number for them. Most people didn’t turn down the chance to appear on his show when it was offered – especially people trying to sell something, even if that something was themselves.
Just as I gathered my things to return to my desk, Brady stormed into Trent’s office and threw a small stack of messages on his desk.
“Complaints about the show last night,” he growled, pointing an accusing finger in my direction. “All because of her big fat arse.”
“Hey!” I protested, now feeling guilty about the two doughnuts I’d scoffed earlier for morning tea and pushing my gigantic coffee behind the pot plant on Trent’s desk to hide it. “No need to be so personal. It wasn’t like I wanted to be swinging around the studio, showing off my undies to the country. I was trying to rescue the monkey.”
Trent picked up the messages and flicked through them. He looked up at me, his face serious. I swallowed nervously. Oh great, I thought, this was probably going to be it. He was finally going to fire me. I suppose I had it coming. I suppose I shouldn’t be too surprised. I could hardly boast the most stable work history in the world.
A smile curved his lips upwards. “Excellent. If all the old biddies are stirred up about the show that means everyone else in the country enjoyed it and thought it was a hoot. That’s a timeslot win in the ratings.”
Brady threw his hands in the air in exasperation. “Is there nothing this woman can do that you won’t defend? She’s a walking disaster zone and you know it. Why don’t you ask her why the monkey went berserk in the first place?”
“You’re out of line, Brady,” said Trent, his voice heated. “You’re the one who made the call about changing the story. I was perfectly happy to keep going with the animal activism angle. As Tilly said, it wasn’t her choice to be in that story. It was probably highly embarrassing for her.”
I nodded my agreement. “It was truly horrible,” I said as plaintively as I could. “People laughed at me.” I didn’t see any need to add that it wasn’t the first time my butt had been featured on TV; not even the first time it had made a guest appearance on People’s Pulse.
“Oh, for God’s sake!” Brady spat, stalking to the door. “Why do I even bother?” He slammed the door shut.
“Stop being such a damn drama queen!” Trent yelled after him. “Seriously, that man needs a good screw.”
“Don’t we all?”
He rolled his eyes. “Right. And this from the woman who’s getting a good screw more frequently than anyone ever recorded in history.”
I smiled. “Stop peeking in my windows, you pervert.”
He smiled too. “I don’t have to. I’ve never known anyone before who comes to work with that silly exhausted expression on her face every single day.”
“I don’t have an ‘expression’.”
“Yes, you do. You look like this.” And he pulled such a silly lovesick face, that I burst into laughter and smacked him lightly on the arm.
“You’re a goose.”
“And you’re a pile of trouble. No wonder Heller wanted me to take you off his hands for a year.” His jollity melted away, his glance resting thoughtfully on me. “So Tilly, why exactly did the monkey go berserk?”
“I have absolutely no idea. I don’t know what Brady was referring to,” I lied brazenly, steadily meeting his eyes. We exchanged a long look.
He leaned back in his leather executive chair and laced his fingers together behind his head. “Somehow I doubt that. But what’s done is done and that’s the end of it as far as I’m concerned. Let’s talk some more about these porno stars.”
“Adult entertainment actors,” I corrected.
“Whatever. Why are they here?”
“Heller said they were here for an exhibition.”
“Seductively Sextravagant? It starts in a couple of days.”
“I guess that’s it. It’s hard to imagine two sex exhibitions on at the same time. I better do some research on this couple and the exhibition.”
He grinned in the cute way he had that won him over a million fans. “Hmm, I might do some, um . . . research . . . on their movies.”
I smiled back. “I might too.”
His grin grew wider. “We could, ah . . . research . . . together at my place tonight.”
I laughed. “I don’t think Heller would appreciate that. He prefers me to only, um . . . research . . . with him.”
“He’s a lucky man.”
“And you’re a cheeky one,” I volleyed, reluctantly standing to head back to my desk.
I really enjoyed working for Trent. He was a great boss, playful, flirty and he stuck up for me time and time again. I did worry that he’d get tired of doing that one day and he’d fire my sorry arse, but decided to worry about that when and if it ever happened.
I spent the rest of the day researching the adult movie industry on the internet, jotting down lots of notes and earning myself many sharp, curious glances from the coworkers who passed by my workstation.
When I returned home after the show that evening, five DVDs were neatly stacked on my kitchen bench with a note propped up against them: Enjoy your research, Matilda. I will visit later to see if you’ve learnt anything new.
“Hmm, it’s not quite a bunch of flowers,” I muttered to myself, picking up the first DVD, my eyes nearly popping out at the X-rated cover. “But thank you, Heller.”
After a quick dinner, and with a very large glass of wine on the table next to me, I started watching the movies. I’d made it about one-third through the second one when Daniel tapped lightly on my door, sticking his head around. I gestured him over, my eyes glued to the TV screen.
“Is Niq with you?” I asked, frantically groping for the remote to switch off the movie. He was far too young to be watching anything as debauched as that.
“No. He’s raiding with his guild tonight.”
I looked over the rim of my wineglass at him. “I know you spoke in English then, but I have no idea what you just said.”
He laughed. “He’s playing an online game.”
“Oh,” I said wisely, as if that explained everything. “Can’t let your guild down.”
“Suppose not,” Daniel said, amused. He poured himself a glass of wine and topped up my glass.
“Thank you, darling Danny.”
“You’re welcome, terrible Tilly.”
I laughed. “That’s not very nice.”
He reached over to kiss my cheek. “No, but you are.”
I leaned my head on his shoulder and he slipped an arm around mine.
“How are you feeling today, Danny?” That wasn’t just an idle question. He’d suffered from depression for months, and it was only in the last fortnight the doctor had taken him off anti-depressants. Consequently, we were all rather anxious about his ongoing emotional state, including Heller, though he never verbalised his concern to me, or anyone as far as I knew.
“I’m okay.”
“Just okay?” I asked, dismayed. I’d hoped for a ‘good’.
“Just okay.”
I guess I had to be satisfied with that. At least, in what I willingly took as a small sign of success, I managed to make him laugh again no
w and then. He also sometimes shared his sweet, crooked smile with us, though it was hard to ignore the tinge of melancholy it now carried. Daniel had been brutally kicked by life one too many times to just ‘get over it’ again.
Heller, not one to put his trust in pharmaceutical cures, kept Daniel busy with work and a fairly demanding physical routine. Heller had designed it himself to partly rehabilitate and strengthen the muscles in Daniel’s back where he’d been shot, and to partly further improve his self-defence skills. I’d sat in on some of their training sessions and Heller had been patient and gentle with his words, if not with his moves. He even entrusted Daniel to Farrell’s experienced hands a few times when he’d been otherwise occupied and couldn’t train Daniel himself. Apparently Farrell could be trusted with Daniel, but not with me. I tried not to let the bitter knowledge of that wash over me. And I didn’t know what Farrell thought when I sat in on one of their training sessions in the gym, but I was careful not to be alone with him at any time.
“What are you watching?” Daniel asked.
“Porn,” I admitted.
“Tilly! I’m shocked,” he proclaimed, not looking even the slightest bit shocked. And I guess living in a place with two guys who openly collected pornography as a hobby would make you rather nonchalant about it.
“It’s for work,” I hastened to explain. “Honestly.”
“Sure it is.”
I turned the movie back on. “It’s not that great. The plot is non-existent, the music is cheesy, the acting is abysmal and the sex is terrifying. They’re at it for ages and ages without any emotions at all. They don’t even look at each other most of the time. It’s not normal. And the close-ups are absolutely revolting. I feel like a gynaecologist. Also, the men are bloody huge. I’ve had my legs crossed with trepidation the entire time.”
“Now you’re just exaggerating. They can’t be that big.” His eyes flew wide open as he stared at the TV screen. “Holy shit! Look at the size of him! Oh man, that would hurt!” He snortled with laughter. “Look at them going for it! That’s hilarious. Her boobs are jiggling everywhere! Do you think they’re real?”
