When Jax cupped her cheek with his hand, it wasn’t his palm that radiated the heat through her body. Jax’s lips brushed against hers, but her lips remembered the feel of another’s instead. Every touch, every sound, and every scent pushed her further into the dream world she’d created and used as an escape from her unpleasant reality. Even though she was fully clothed, the flesh-colored suit gave the illusion of nudity while it added to the ambiance of the scene. In her mind, there were no barriers between her and the man of her dreams, their bodies completely intertwined in an erotic dance.
“Cut!” Vince, the director, yelled. "Holy shit, that was so fucking hot. If I didn't know better, I'd swear you two have been practicing that scene quite a few times in private."
Elle was abruptly pulled from her fantasy when Jax rolled off, leaving her feeling exposed and self-conscious, despite the fact that the bodysuit covered her completely. The smirk on Jax’s face after Vince's comment said it all. He thought her performance was because she wanted him. Nothing could be further from the truth, but Elle couldn’t tell him that and risk the repercussions.
“I guess it was okay,” Jax replied with a dismissive shrug. “I’ll know better when we review the film.”
“You won’t be reviewing the film, Jax. That's my job. Elle, you keep that up, and you'll have to prepare an acceptance speech before you know it." Vince clapped his hands and rubbed them together vigorously. "Hopefully, so will I."
Elle responded with her best smile, putting her acting skills to the test again. “Thanks, Vince. That would be a dream come true for us both, wouldn’t it?”
Vince’s response didn’t register in Elle’s mind, because Jax jumped into the conversation concerning awards and statues, showing no humility in his quest for validation of being loved for his abilities and not just his face. Annoyed, Elle walked toward her dressing room to change, lost in the make-believe world with the man she missed more every day. She silently mused over how he’d invaded all of her senses yet again, when he wasn’t anywhere near her.
It’d be another long night of tossing and turning, dreaming of him and what they couldn’t have. No amount of cold water could douse the fire he’d lit in her long ago.
"It's been a long day," Beth grumbled, echoing Elle's thoughts when Elle stepped into the trailer. "I'm beyond ready to crawl into bed and zone out in front of the TV until I pass out from exhaustion.”
“That sounds perfect. We’re out of here as soon as I throw my clothes on.”
Elle grabbed her shorts and T-shirt off the clothes rack and quickly changed while Beth gathered their belongings. When they walked out, Elle heard Vince’s and Jax’s voices carrying across the lot. “Let’s go the other way. I don’t want them to see us and start another conversation. I’ve had all I can stand of Jax for one day.”
“That guy is a serious jerk. He propositioned me again while I was doing his makeup today. I’ve only told him ‘no’ about a hundred times now.” Beth shuddered at the thought.
"Yes, he’s a complete ass. This movie can't wrap soon enough. But I'm so glad we're on the same set. After I accept my award, my first diva-demand will be to have you as my personal makeup artist for every movie."
"Hey, getting assigned as your personal makeup artist for life is my dream job. Don't tease me."
The forty-five-minute drive to their shared apartment in Westwood seemed to fly by, and they were home in no time. Beth would no doubt assume Elle's long day of filming wore her out, but the truth was she felt like she was revved up on a triple-shot of espresso. Her thoughts stayed on her dream man, reliving every moment of every encounter, remembering every word spoken, and wishing circumstances were different.
True to her word, Beth retreated to her bedroom and was soon sound asleep in her bed. The TV volume was high enough to drown out any other noise, and the light from the screen cast a soft blue hue over her room, changing with an occasional flicker. Elle paced in the living room, close to wearing a path in the rug with her back-and-forth marching. She gripped her phone, sorely tempted to dial the number she'd memorized by heart years before.
She couldn't bring herself to do it, though it tore her to shreds inside to deny herself the pure pleasure. She desperately wanted to hear his voice, but she knew once she did, it wouldn't be enough. Frustrated, she walked into her bathroom, started the shower, and washed away any remnant of Jax’s scent from her. No amount of water could remove the other man from her thoughts, her fantasies.
When she dragged her soapy washcloth between her legs, her sex clenched from the slightest friction. The intensity of the sensation nearly brought her to her knees. Need for a release mixed with her desire for him, and it rippled through her, heightening all of her nerve endings. She removed the handheld shower head from its cradle to rinse the soap from her body and then let it linger at the apex of her thighs. She closed her eyes, dropped her head back, and pictured him there in the shower with her.
Frustration transformed into exasperation when the jet stream of water did nothing to bring relief. Elle quickly dried off then climbed into bed. As soon as she closed her eyes, the image of him was there again, mocking and teasing her from afar. Her hand slid down, finding the silky wetness between her legs. Since he refused to leave her memories, she stopped resisting and allowed them to run rampant through her mind. With his name on her lips, she climaxed while she envisioned her initial rendezvous with him eight years earlier.
Though, it still felt like just yesterday.
Lying in bed alone after a long day on the set, eight years after their first night together, she could feel his touch on her skin. She smelled the masculine scent of his cologne. Wood, amber, and earthy spices mixed with the heady aroma that made up his signature scent. She rolled over in bed, pulled the extra pillow close to her in a lonely hug, and let the tears fall wherever they landed. She missed him so much. At twenty-eight, she was fatigued and burned-out from modeling since age twelve, and she found she wished for a simpler life. With him.
What would her life be like if she’d stayed with him all those years ago? That question had played on a constant loop in her mind since the day she told him she had to leave. When he asked her not to go. When she’d decided her career was more important.
As she slipped into a restless slumber, words from her youth returned and taunted her with what she couldn’t have.
No one else will ever compare to Devon Kane.
The sun hadn’t even made a hint of an appearance when the alarm went off. With her eyes still closed, she smacked the clock to stop the irritating noise that dared to pull her from one of the best dreams she’d had in months. The scene in her mind was more realistic than any movie set she’d been on. Cool wind blew on her face, sending her long locks flying in every direction, as she strode hand in hand with Devon through the grassy clearing on the mountaintop. The weight of the world was lifted from her shoulders, and she was without a care in the world for the first time since she entered the modeling contest. Her demure smile was genuine and conveyed the contentment she felt inside—her life with Devon was simple. Easy. Stress-free.
“Elle, time to get up,” Beth said from the doorway. “We have an early morning scene to shoot, so we have to get you into hair and makeup before Jax gets there. He primps longer than any woman I’ve ever seen.”
With the grace and elegance of a zombie, Elle slid out of bed and walked straight to the shower. The spray of hot water helped her to peel her eyes open and face the long day ahead of her. She was thankful for one advantage of being on a movie set—her hair, makeup, and clothes would be done for her, sparing her the time and energy it would take otherwise. After she towel-dried her hair and threw on comfortable clothes, she and Beth left together for the studio.
The lot was eerily quiet that early in the morning, when it was still dark and most of the cast and crew on the other sets hadn’t yet arrived. Security patrolled the area in golf carts, their serious expressions daring anyone out of place to step foot
inside the gates. Still, when Elle and Beth stepped out of the car, a troubled chill surged up Elle’s spine, and she looked around the darkened lot nervously.
“Everything all right, Miss Sinclair?” a deep voice asked from behind her.
She quickly turned and immediately recognized the familiar face of one of the foot patrol security guards. “Yes. Just spooked myself, I guess.”
“I’ll escort you ladies to the makeup trailer to make sure you get there safely.”
Elle smiled and nodded, relieved they weren’t alone, and turned with Beth to cover the short distance to shelter.
“Will Mr. Hart be joining you this morning?” the guard asked.
Elle stifled a laugh, knowing all too well why he asked about Jax’s presence. The reputation of diva-like demands from some stars preceded them. With Jax, however, his outrageous demands made him the ire of most lower-level cast and crew members who’d had the misfortune of working with him. One of Jax’s main rules was no crew member was allowed by contract to make direct eye contact with him—including security.
“Mr. Hart will be here early this morning, but I’m not sure what time. We arrived earlier than usual,” Elle explained.
Elle had vowed early in her movie career she’d never be known as one of those actors—the ones like Jax who distanced themselves from everyone who supported their work. Keeping her down-to-earth personality had benefited her more than once. She’d found out firsthand that the people who were paid to cater to her needs were much more willing to make her time on the set easier just because she was kind to them.
When they’d stepped inside the trailer, Elle turned to the guard and gave him her sincerest smile. “Thank you for walking with us, Roy.”
“Yes, thank you so much. Same time tomorrow morning?” Beth flirted.
Roy’s smile spread across his face. “My pleasure, ladies. Have a good day.”
Elle closed and locked the door, the uneasy feeling still lingering in her chest. Beth watched her movements closely as she prepared her makeup supplies. “What’s wrong, Elle?”
“I just have a bad feeling, Beth. Nothing’s happened, but it just feels like we’re being watched.”
“It’s probably all the rumors that have been flying around the studio lots the last few weeks,” Beth replied offhandedly.
“What rumors?”
“You know,” she insisted. “About the actress who was reported missing from one of the other stages.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Beth.”
“Have a seat. We need to get started,” Beth replied. She continued talking while applying Elle’s on-screen makeup. “It’s been almost two weeks ago now, but one of the actresses on another movie set was rumored to be missing. She didn’t show up for work after they’d already filmed several scenes with her, so production is on hold until she shows up or they find a replacement.”
“What do they think happened to her?”
“Some say she’s in rehab somewhere and the studio execs are keeping it secret for her. But when a couple of the makeup artists said that wasn’t true and something bad happened to her, they got in a lot of trouble. They may not be able to work on the lot again.”
“That’s really scary, Beth.”
“Why? Maybe the stress got to her, and she’s in the hospital somewhere. You know how delicate all these actresses are.”
“I beg your pardon,” Elle replied jokingly, her Southern accent making a rare appearance in her tone.
Beth laughed at Elle’s reply. “The first time you can’t take a joke from me, I’ll drag you out of this town and whip your ass.”
“You’ve threatened me with that for years. Maybe I should try it and see if you’ll really do it. I’d love to take a long vacation somewhere far away from here.”
“You know, there’s a way you can do that. Pick up the phone, have your assistant make the arrangements, then text your agent and tell him you’re leaving after you’re already gone.”
Elle inhaled deeply and released her breath on a long, wistful sigh. “I wish I could.”
“Why can’t you?”
“Oh, no reason, other than the little obstacle called a contract obligation that says I have to finish filming this movie.”
“Minor details. You could always check in to a spa, otherwise known as a mental hospital, and take a nice long break.”
“At this point, I’d even take that. But that reminds me what I was going to say before you sidetracked me. A while back, before this movie started filming, I heard about another actress dropping off the face of the earth during production. Why isn’t any of this on the news?”
“Probably because she isn’t well-known enough, Elle. I hate to say it, but it’s true. Unless you’re the female equivalent of Jax Hart, you’re replaceable in this town. As soon as they find someone who fits the wardrobe they already have, the latest gone girl will be forgotten.”
Throughout the day, Beth’s words stayed with Elle, weighing heavily on her shoulders while she did her best to pretend she was someone else. The best part about the day was none of her scenes included Jax. Even though every scene required multiple retakes from different angles, the time seemed more productive without his pretentious presence on the stage.
When she and two of her costars left the sound stage building during a set break, raised voices immediately caught their attention. The trio of women stopped and gawked at the awkward scene unfolding in front of them. The normally bustling area between the stages was subdued, with the crew members using any excuse to avoid leaving the area and missing the conclusion.
“If you ever, and I mean ever in your entire miserable life, touch me again, your junk will be stuffed and mounted as a trophy over my fireplace. I don’t give a shit what kind of badass you play on the screen, you’re not man enough to handle me.”
Katrina Fox stood in Jax’s personal space, as close to his face as she could get without actually touching him, and her shouts carried across the lot, echoing off the many buildings and returning to the onlookers like an instant replay.
“Calm your tits, babe,” Jax replied, his tone patronizing and his expression one of disdain. “If you’re not into men, you should still give me a try. I guarantee you’ll be back for more.”
Katrina’s hands curled into fists as her anger reached a tipping point. “Don’t you dare try to downplay what you did or pass it off as my fault. I am happily married, and I’ve put up with your bullshit long enough. If I bring my husband on the set, he will kick your chickenshit ass. Keep your fucking hands off me, Jax. Or, so help me God, you will regret it.”
Unwilling to accept her refusal of his overt advances, Jax’s temper flared, revealing his true self. “No, Katrina, you’ll regret it if you don’t shut your fucking mouth and take it. You’re nobody. You really think the execs will side with you over me? I’m their golden cash cow, baby. I get what I want, when I want, and from whomever I want. Your only job is to say ‘Yes, sir, may I have another’ when I come for you. Keep causing a scene like this, and you’ll be gone with a snap of my fingers. All those fat, old men you had to fuck to get here will mean nothing.”
Katrina’s arm swung back as she prepared to power through his face with her fist. Elle caught Katrina’s elbow just in time and stopped her from following through with it. Katrina’s head whirled around, fire shooting from her eyes, and a deep shade of red covered her face.
“Don’t, Katrina. The trouble this will cause you isn’t worth it. Take care of it through the appropriate channels,” Elle urged her.
“You know as well as I do the studio talking heads will just look the other way for him,” Katrina countered. Jax’s smug expression made Elle want to finish what Katrina had started.
“Not if you handle it the right way.”
Understanding lit in Katrina’s eyes, and she nodded at Elle. “You’re right. Thank you, Elle.”
Jax’s arrogant air instantly deflated when Katrina’s fiery gaze swung b
ack to him. Katrina stormed back through the door to her assigned sound stage, and Jax glared at Elle.
“You shouldn’t have done that.”
“No, Jax. You shouldn’t have done that.”
2
CHAPTER TWO
The next morning on the set, Elle’s bottom jaw dropped to her chest when she reviewed the updated call sheet outlining the scenes that would be filmed. The last-minute notice aside, the number of set changes required ensured everyone would be on set until the wee hours of the morning.
“Can they do this?” Beth whispered as she gawked at her call sheet. “With our union contracts, can they legally get away with this?”
“Maybe not legally,” Elle whispered back. “But they have a long arm, Beth. Don’t get blacklisted.”
Throughout the tedious hours of filming, Elle had to endure scene after scene with Jax, not only pretending she didn’t despise him, but that she was in love with him. On more than one occasion, she mused about that golden statue and how it would be hers if she could only convey to the world her true feelings for her costar. Since everything was filmed as the set was needed, rather than in order of the script, her numerous scenes had thankfully been short ones. Her longest scene was scheduled at the end of the day, and she knew it would be her hardest scene to date.
“Get Elle and Jax set up for the next scene,” Vince instructed. “We need to get as many finished today as possible. We’re already behind schedule, and we can’t get another extension on the time we have this stage.”
While the crew scurried about, quickly correcting last-minute set details, the second assistant director left to fetch the main stars. Their workday had already been longer than the updated call sheets indicated, causing every crew member to inwardly grumble about the extra hours. While several whispered threats of calling their union representative the next morning, none dared to show their displeasure with the working conditions. Getting called back to work on another movie in the near future was more important than going home at the scheduled time.
Wicked Shadows (Steele Security Book 5) Page 2
