by Dark Angel
“I saw the scene you shot with her. You weren’t fooling anyone with those thinly veiled threats. You need to back off.”
Alberta huffs. “Whatever. If little darling Sasha can’t handle the heat then she needs to get a new job. This isn’t daycare. We aren’t here to make her life all sunshine and rainbows.”
Her comment is ridiculous, especially because she’s just as young, if not younger than Sasha. But apparently she doesn’t see it like that.
“You need to remember, Kane, that we’re the stars of the show. You and me. Not some little upstart who think she can just waltz in here and try to seduce her way into the limelight.”
“What the fuck, Alberta? You’re kidding me right now, aren’t you? First of all, Sasha did not seduce her way onto this show. She’s extremely talented and got the part because she was the right person for the job.”
Rolling her eyes, Alberta takes a step closer. “You’re the one kidding me here, Kane,” she says, mimicking my tone in a supremely annoying childish fashion. Like, really, how old is this girl anyway? “Don’t even try to deny it. Everyone is talking about it. How her audition was so over the top, how she practically threw herself at you, and then there was the table read this morning. What was that about?”
“Chemistry, Alberta,” I say through gritted teeth. “It’s why they hire actors to play opposite each other.”
She scoffs. “You aren’t seriously going to try to convince people that you aren’t attracted to her in a totally unprofessional way? Everyone, and I mean everyone, knows you better than that. You sleep with anything with two legs.”
Except her. The words aren’t said, but I can practically feel her hurling them at me across the space between us. That’s what all this is about. Petty jealousy. I want to roll my eyes, but I need to make sure that this bitch doesn’t go do something really stupid.
“Look, Alberta, you need to just stay away from Sasha. Do your job. Be a professional. But leave her alone.”
She stomps her foot, and I wonder again if she isn’t too far off from the character she plays. “I won’t be replaced! Especially not by her.”
Trying to remain calm, I lower my voice. “Everyone can be replaced, Alberta. Don’t think you’re above that or that you’re anything special that the casting directors can’t find more of at any audition. All they have to do is look in the tabloids to find someone else just like you. Someone with a pretty face and a reputation for getting in trouble. The media eats that up—and that makes the show even more popular. Don’t think for a minute that there aren’t a hundred other girls out there who can fit that bill—maybe even better than you do.”
I can practically see the tirade gathering steam in Alberta, so I do the only smart thing. I turn to leave. But not before throwing one more caution over my shoulder.
“Stay away from her. That’s my last warning.”
I stride down the hall to my own dressing room, surprised by how angry I am on Sasha’s behalf. It’s totally unexpected. But I can’t deny it. It’s there. I want to defend her. I want to watch out for her and protect her from Alberta’s cunning ways.
I don’t know why the fuck I thought Alberta would be sensible. The woman is beyond reason.
Pacing the floor of my dressing room, I feel all this unspent energy coursing through my veins. First, the fact that Sasha says we can’t have sex again. And yeah, I get it. Her career is more important than me getting my rocks off. But that doesn’t make it any easier.
And now this shit with Alberta. I need to blow off some steam. Take the edge off.
Grabbing my wallet and my jacket, I head out the door. I know exactly where to go.
Kane
I climb from my Ferrari and walk straight into my favorite high-end nightclub. I don’t even bother checking with the bouncer. The rope just parts for me as I walk up. That’s how famous I am these days. But I barely notice the flash of cameras and the calls of the girls who are still waiting in line behind the velvet rope. I’m too focused on having a good time.
I always come here when I want to let loose. It’s the most exclusive club in town, and I have a VIP table ready and waiting for me anytime I come. Walking through the dark club, the pounding bass rattles through my body, distracting me from my frustration in a way that usually loosens me up and puts me in a mood to party. But for some reason, it doesn’t quite work like usual.
I gesture toward a waitress, and she recognizes me and nods, indicating that she’ll bring my usual. One of the many perks of having a favorite place to frequent. As soon as I sit down at my table in the VIP section, women creep out of the woodwork. They’re practically climbing all over me like ants on a crumb. Is that what I’ve become? These women want a piece of me so badly that they’ll throw themselves at me. And desperately.
Huh. Weird.
It’s never bothered me before. In fact, I pretty much soak that shit up. I fucking love it. I mean, who wouldn’t? What man in his right mind wouldn’t want hordes of women vying to spread their legs? And these aren’t just any women. These are all models and aspiring actresses. That’s the clientele this club attracts, and they don’t let just anyone through the doors. These are some of the most beautiful women New York City has to offer. Yet right now I still can’t seem to get my head in the game. I don’t understand it a bit.
Just when I think I can’t take any more of it, they all start to back up and scatter to other parts of the club. I look up and see the source of the quick departure.
Carissa.
She’s about the most famous supermodel in the world at the moment, if not the most famous. And she can be fucking intimidating with her long legs, waif-thin body, and nearly six-foot stature—and that’s not even in heels. When she’s wearing heels, she’s almost as tall as I am, and that’s saying something. I know because I dated her. Well, if dating is what you want to call it. We went places. We smiled for cameras. We fucked.
That’s about all it ever amounted to. Fun while it lasted.
I vaguely notice she’s wearing some designer dress that probably makes her look even more amazing than usual, and her hair is done in the latest fashion. I think she must have gotten some lip injections since I last saw her, too, though I can’t be sure. She was always making that pouty face. Anyway, I’m sure she looks great, but I barely register any of it as she sidles up to me and slides down next to me on the plush booth. My mind is somewhere else entirely.
“Kane,” Carissa purrs. “Long time no see. You look as fuckable as ever.”
I lift one corner of my mouth in what I hope passes for a smile. Did that shit really used to do it for me? Telling me how fuckable I am?
I shrug. “You look nice, too.”
I feel rather than see her recoil in shock because I’m too busy scanning the crowd to really pay her much attention. “Nice? I look nice?”
“Yeah,” I mutter, wondering how long she’s going to stick around. “Did you come here alone?” I ask.
“Sorry, I’m still stuck on the fact you think I look nice,” she says, and I finally turn to her. She’s pouting, as usual—unless it’s the lip injections—and looking like I actually insulted her or something.
“Sorry?” I say, shaking my head. This chick is a piece of work.
She seems to take the word at face value because she smiles again and cuddles up next to me, resting her hand right on top of my cock and squeezing.
“I was hoping I might see you here tonight, Kane,” she says. “I’ve just been so frustrated lately. Nobody can make me feel the way you do. I need some of this magic cock in my life.” She squeezes again for emphasis, obviously hoping to get me going, but my reaction is pretty much nonexistent. She tries again, whispering in my ear. “Take me home and fuck me.”
Her hot breath on me makes me cringe, and I try to peel her off of me.
“Sorry, Carissa, not tonight.”
By the way her face contorts, you’d think I just told her she smelled like rotten fish. “Are you fucking wi
th me, Kane? ‘Not tonight?’ Since when do you turn down sex with me?”
Since right now, bitch, I want to say. What is it with these entitled women I keep dealing with? And why am I just now noticing how obnoxious it is?
I stand up, ready to leave, but she grabs my arm, her nails digging into me like talons. “Don’t you dare walk away from me. You will not embarrass me like this.”
No, embarrassing her was not my intention, but she’s doing a damn good job of it herself. Heads turn our way, and I see a few phones point at us. Whatever. I’m so not in the mood for this. Pulling my arm back, I simply turn away and head for the exit, not bothering to look back at the gasp of shock Carissa lets out. I just make my way to the valet station.
Standing outside the club, I hope this isn’t an indication of how things are going to be. This is supposed to be the place I go when I need to relax, to let loose. And now I can’t wait to get out of here. Even more disturbing, I just turned down sex with the woman who was just voted the hottest girl on the planet. And as much as I tried, I can’t get Sasha out of my mind. What the fuck?
As the driver pulls up with my car, I’m hit with a realization. This can only mean one thing. However new they are, there’s no denying it. I have feelings for Sasha.
Kane
Okay, I can do this. I’m a professional. Acting is in my blood. I’ve been doing this successfully for years and years. It’s my job. There’s no reason why I can’t go in to work today and just be normal. Just get through the day like it’s any other day of shooting.
There’s absolutely, positively no reason whatsoever that I need to think about the realization I had the other night at the club. Except that I can’t think about anything else.
I know how I feel about Sasha. She’s different from all the other women I’ve been around in the entertainment industry, and I really want to get to know her on a personal level. But I also want to get to know her even better on a physical level. And the scenes we have to shoot today are going to kill me if I can’t get it together and figure out how to be a professional again.
I go through hair and makeup in a bit of a daze trying to psych myself up for the scene. This is going to be another sexy, flirty scene. Like most of mine with Sasha are. The director really likes the way our chemistry is translating to the screen, and the writers have adjusted the script to include even more flirting and seduction.
When it’s time to take our places on the soundstage, I remind myself what’s at stake here. This is about more than me being intrigued by a woman or me wanting to get my dick wet. Sasha’s career is on the line here. If that’s not enough to make me pull it together and be professional, I don’t know what is.
She gives me a little smile when she joins me on the soundstage, and I’m pretty sure I see just as much longing and desire there as I feel. I wonder if it’s as obvious to everyone else as it is to me. Fuck, I hope not.
The director calls Action, and the scene begins.
Sasha saunters up to me, all naughty seduction, dressed in some slinky excuse for pajamas. The scene is supposed to take place at my character’s house. Sasha is spending the night with Alberta’s character and has woken up in the middle of the night and come downstairs in a tiny little gown that’s white and sheer. What girl actually wears something like that to spend the night at her friend’s house? But whatever. It makes good TV. And I’m sure loving it at the moment.
“Oh,” she says in character, feigning surprise with a wicked gleam in her eye, “I didn’t know you’d be down here, sir.”
“Oh, didn’t you?” I say. I’m dressed in nothing but boxer briefs, of course. Hell, I’m surprised the directors didn’t have me naked for this scene. They do love to flaunt my giant cock on their uncensored network.
“No. I just came down for a glass of water. I think I got overheated.” She fans herself with her hand, watching me from the corner of her eye.
“Too hot,” I say in a growly voice, the one they tell me the female viewers love.
She nods, an overly innocent expression on her face. “Yes. I was thinking about…”
Sasha looks away demurely, but I know the camera has her on an angle where they can film the devious look I know is supposed to be there.
“Thinking about what?” I prod. I know what’s coming, and my cock is already responding.
She shakes her head, and I grip her arms and lean forward so that my chest is pressed against her back. She lets out a soft little gasp that seals the deal for my dick. He’s good and hard now. Taking a deep breath, I force myself to just play a role. To not respond to the very real attraction I’m feeling for Sasha this very second. I pull back slightly so that I’m not pressed so close to her warm, smooth skin.
“Tell me,” I say, my voice just as stiff as my cock.
“I’ve been such a bad girl,” she says. “When I was upstairs, I couldn’t stop wondering if you’d be down here. Or what you’d be wearing. If you’d be wearing anything.” She says the lines in that sexy voice that turns me on so much, but there’s something off about them. Something different from before. I pull back even further and loosen my grip on her arms, keeping my hands there but just resting them lightly against her.
“What else did you think about?” I ask.
“I wondered if you’d be naked, and what you’d look like,” she whispers, and again there’s something different in her voice. “And then I touched myself.”
Aw, fuck. Even though I know what the lines are ahead of time, hearing Sasha say them still gets to me.
“You've been a bad girl,” I say, wishing there were no cameras right now so I could just cut out all the acting and turn her around, yank that sheer gown off her luscious body, and settle her right down on top of my dick. “I think I might just have to teach you a lesson.”
She turns to me, her eyes dark with lust, and I know she isn’t just playing a part right now. “Teach me.”
Just as I start to reach for her to pull her close, the director calls, “Cut!”
I heave a giant breath and lean back on the sofa. This is too fucking hard. I’ve never struggled through a scene like this before.
“What the fuck was that?” the director shouts, approaching us and waving his arms.
Sasha gives me a nervous look, and I shrug, looking back at him. “What?”
“You two look like you couldn’t be more uncomfortable right now. You’re coming off totally stiff and wooden.”
I scoff. That's the understatement of the year. Stiff and wooden don’t even begin to describe the current condition of my body.
“I’m so sorry,” Sasha blurts out. “I’m just nervous to do this scene.”
She’s not nervous. She’s already a pro. But apparently neither one of us are able to hide how we’re feeling, so we’re compensating by holding back.
“No, it’s my fault,” I say. I’ll be damned if I let her take the blame. “I’m tired. Stayed out too late last night.”
That’s a lie, but it works.
The director sighs. “Fine. We’ll shoot something else today. Just go get some rest. We need you fresh tomorrow.”
Get some rest. Yeah right. Not with what Sasha’s doing to me. I don’t know how I’m going to make it day after day like this with her and not be able to have her now that I know just what it is I’m missing out on.
Sasha
“All you need is —”
“Thick skin,” Stefan nods, finishing Jasmine’s sentence.
Even though they’re just playing as twins on screen, no one would doubt them if they said they’re twins in real life. Sure, they don’t really look alike, but the chemistry between them is off the charts. Not sexual chemistry, mind you, but something that I would definitely compare to a brother-sister relationship. They finish each other’s lines all the time, and they always seem to hang around together. Always cracking jokes and teasing each other, these two have a relationship as close as the one I have with Laurel.
“Besides, I wou
ldn’t worry too much. You’ve been doing great ever since you got here,” Jasmine continues, taking a bite out of the turkey sandwich in her hands.
“That’s right. We all got scolded by the directors every single day of shooting during our first weeks,” Stefan agrees, reaching for Jasmine’s tray and stealing a handful of French fries. “You’ve been at this for a few days now, and this is the first time you haven’t managed to pull off a scene. So, really...You’re basically bummed out because that scene was a combo-breaker.”
“Yup,” Jasmine nods. “You’re just having a rough day. Don’t read too much into it.”
“Thank you, guys, really,” I start, pushing around the peas on my plate with my fork. “Working in a production like this one...It’s intense,” I tell them, feeling good that I have someone with whom I can shoot the shit and get things off my chest. Sure, I have Laurel...But it’s different when you’re talking to someone who understands exactly what you’re going through.
I guess I could just as easily talk about all these things with Kane, but that’d be a risk. I doubt I’d get three sentences out of my mouth before I finally fell on my knees in front of him. Ever since that time in my dressing room I can barely think of something else. I even dreamt of him last night, can you imagine it?
“Don’t worry ‘bout it. We gotta have each other’s back. Besides, everyone on set loves you,” Jasmine tells me with a smile, and I can’t help but smile back at her.
“Alberta doesn’t seem to love me that much, though…” I sigh, lowering my gaze again and pushing the peas around. I thought that putting something down my stomach would help me recover from screwing up the scene, but I haven’t even been able to work up an appetite.
“Alberta’s a bitch,” Stefan tells me right away, not even bothering to beat around the bush. That earns him a quick elbow from Jasmine in his ribs, and he just shrugs. “What? You know it’s true.”
“Yeah,” Jasmine whispers. “But you don’t need to be shouting it in the mess hall, do you? But, yeah, Stefan’s right,” she admits, looking at me with a resigned smile. “It isn’t easy working with her, especially because she has a penchant for backstabbing people.”
