I look over at my clock and get up, plucking the evidence of my unsatisfying lunch from the table, I stuff the container and fork in the dishwasher and realize that Gabe will be here any minute. It’s not like someone is going to buzz me to announce his presence at my gate. I scan my modern, open, ranch-style bungalow. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve done well to buy this new build in Mar Vista. It’s a beautiful house with a nice in-ground pool and I’m in a safe neighborhood, but this isn’t exactly West Hollywood. No TMZ bus tours are going to be stopping at the end of my driveway for a chance to catch a glimpse of an A-list celebrity.
I rush into my master bathroom and brush my teeth. I don’t want any of my mixed greens salad stuck in them when Gabe shows up. I open my lips and look at my pearly whites just to make sure I’m good and then reapply my pink lipstick. I know I’m primping and worrying too much. I’m offering him a job, not a date. Yet, just the idea stirs something powerful inside me, making me feel fluttery and nervous. I mean, it’s not like I’d be opposed to a date …
“Okay, focus,” I lock eyes on myself in the mirror and take a deep breath like I’m doing one of the twisted up pretzel moves from my yoga class.
Ding-dong.
My eyes grow wide and I jump a little. That’s him.
It’s got to be.
“Chill Vanessa,” I pat my fingers over my tied up hair and twist my body to the side, giving myself a once-over before I head out.
Bang-bang-bang! I hear a brusque knock at the door as I make my way over to it.
“Coming!” I yell out in a sing-song voice that reminds me of my mother’s weird ability to answer the phone is an eerie falsetto, no matter what was going on in our home. Her children could literally be slaying each other and she’d still manage to answer our telephone with a vibrant and bright, “Hello!”
I cringe at the idea that I’m waking up every morning just twenty-four hours closer to becoming my mother but push the thought from my mind as my hand circles my door knob and pulls it toward me, revealing him.
My God, he’s every bit as sexy as I thought, except, even more so because I’m not drinking and not nervous to be in a sex club. I let my eyes wander his frame shamelessly even as I step to the side and offer for him to come inside.
Is it weird that saying the words “come inside,” two completely innocent words on their own, suddenly make me blush furiously? If it isn’t, I’m not sure why I’m suddenly acting like I’ve never let a man step into my house before. I keep stepping my feet up too high when I walk, like a cat with paper shoes attached to its feet, as I repeatedly tuck my hair behind my ears like somehow, somewhere, a tendril escaped in the last ten seconds.
“Nice place you’ve got here,” Gabe moves his head from side to side, scanning the room. Although I can’t see exactly what he’s looking at since his aviator sunglasses are shielding his eyes.
“Thanks,” I smile and close the door behind him. “I saved money from every role I’ve had, so I could get a house. I grew up in an apartment as a kid, so I really had this thing about a backyard of my own,” I admit.
“Every role? I thought you said you weren’t an actress?” I can see his eyebrows knit together in confusion over the brim of his sunglasses.
“No, I just said I’ve lived here a while. I’m just like every other chick in LA. An actress. But, I’ve done enough movies now that I don’t need to do the jaded waitress thing anymore,” I echo his words from last night.
“Ahh, okay then. In any big movies? I’m not up on all the new films, I stick to the older stuff I guess.” He tilts his head at me.
“Yeah, I’ve been in a few hits, but not in a leading role. I’m always the smart-ass sidekick or the funny friend, I mean until now. Come on into the living room, let’s…” I almost said, ‘get comfortable’ but I bite my tongue and rethink my words. I don’t want to lead him on, into thinking this is a date. I mean, if I’m honest, part of me wants this to be a date that never ends, but that’s not going to happen and I know it. “Let’s go sit down and talk,” I finally finish my thought.
“Yeah, okay, so this is for you,” he hands me the bottle of bubbly that he was casually hiding behind his leg and I gasp when I see the label. It’s a bottle of Dom Perignon. He must have spent at least two-hundred dollars on this!
“Oh, you really didn’t have to do that,” I stammer and wave my hand at him.
“No, I insist. I figured you might want to actually enjoy some later, either in a glass or, you know, off me,” his full lips twitch up into a smirk and my entire body feels like it’s blushing.
“Thank you,” my voice is tight. The image of him in his transparent underwear, dripping with champagne sends a wave of scorching heat over my skin as my pussy clenches tight with desire.
“No, thank you,” he answers, hot on my heels as I walk into the living room. “I just wish those two assholes’ hadn’t interrupted us last night, I was having a lot of fun getting to know you.” Gabe sits down on the white leather couch next to me. Luckily it feels cool, helping me get the heat radiating from my body under control.
“I really enjoyed it too,” I lick my lip and put the bottle down on the coffee table in front of us. “So, about those guys, sorry I had to run off like I did when you guys all got into it. I had to get out of there though. The men you fought are my bodyguards. Were my bodyguards,” I correct myself.
“Oh really? Shit,” he folds his arms over his chest and leans back.
“Yeah, they came to tell me that the paparazzi had tracked me down and I needed to get going,” I explain.
“I thought you said you haven’t had any big parts? Why is the paparazzi following you?”
“I just accepted my first lead. It’s a huge role, the studio is already putting a lot into building buzz and the filming hasn’t even started yet. It’s probably going to have at least a sequel too, maybe even be a trilogy,” I gush excitedly. “Anyway, they hired those bodyguards for me, probably more as a publicity stunt than anything, I think they wanted people to notice that I had them with me so they’d think I’m important and ask me questions about the movie. But I fired them after last night because they’re useless.”
“I don’t disagree,” Gabe answers and finally removes his sunglasses. I pause for a moment and get lost in his beautiful blue eyes, but I’d be lying if I didn’t say I also notice the scar tissue around his eye too. It’s deeper and more profound than I could see in the club last night with raised tissue rippling back to his scalp and disappearing into his light brown hair. The prominent semi-circle forms a mountain ridge around his left eye, speaking to horrors he’s lived through and come out the other side stronger from. I don’t find the scar takes anything away from how hot-as-sin he is. I could get lost in his bright blues all day and never even care about the scar.
I bite my lip and make myself stop staring like a love-struck school girl. I swallow hard and manage to get my thoughts back on track even as he watches me so closely. “I would really like if you would be my bodyguard instead,” I look down at the bottle of Dom and then up to him, wondering if he’s going to take this as an insult. I mean, I don’t even know if he already has a job, he evaded the question when I asked him last night. “If you’re available, of course, I understand if you can’t or don’t want to,” I begin to overexplain.
“You want me to … work for you?” I can see a flash in his eyes and I can’t tell what it means.
“Well, technically you’d be working for the studio to keep me safe, I guess,” I feel silly saying the words. I don’t think of myself as someone who needs protection, yet it’s in my contract so I need to find someone to fill the position.
“So, you want someone to show up in the morning and follow you around all day while you make the movie?” He frowns and his voice sounds tense.
“No, not exactly,” my lips tug down as I look to my hands nervously. He doesn’t seem to like the idea at all.
“Well, what then?”
“I would need
you to live here with me.”
9
Gabe
“Live here?” I take a second look around at the vast, open house and try to imagine living in it. Compared to my condo, I guess this would be seen, as quite the upgrade. However, I like the familiar solitude of my dingy little place. Sure, it’s not much to look at and it’s not in some swanky part of town like this place is, but it’s home. All of a sudden, I see Axle's furry face invade my thoughts and I know there’s just no way. “I have a dog, a big one, he’s a German Shepherd. I’d have to bring him with me,” I take another look around all the crisp white furniture and decor and am confident that will be a nail in the coffin on this idea.
“No problem, I love dogs. I never got to have one growing up because of the apartment thing, it would be fun to pretend to own one for a while.”
My back stiffens up a bit at the idea of her pretending Axle is hers. It doesn’t sit well with me. He is definitely my dog and changing his address for a bit would make a difference. “I don’t know,” I answer slowly, “how long would it be for?”
“The movie is scheduled to film for three months and we start in a week,” her eyes dart over my face searching for an answer.
One thing she isn’t doing is cringing at the scars. I watched her face, her light brown eyes, so closely, as I pull off my sunglasses. I know she already saw me without them last night, but the dim lights of the club can hide a million sins. Every person who steps foot in that place is looking to disappear from their past for a bit. They want to escape the reality of their lives and to be seen, as the most desirable person in the room. Unfortunately, I wear my past on my face, but even I have, the opportunity to hide from it while I’m there. To be a promise of throbbing pleasure under low lights instead of a freak show with a road map of scar tissue around his eye. Yet, when I took off my glasses, when she saw the ugly truth in broad daylight, she didn’t flinch. The look of longing and lust didn’t diminish or dampen. For a second, for the first time since before the explosion, I felt like someone was looking at me. The real me. And wanting more.
“Three months is a long time,” I finally break the silence. “I’d need to do something with my condo,” I frown.
“I know the studio would pay for it while you are here. You wouldn’t have to find a person to sublet it or anything like that. But, I can see you need some time to think it over,” she runs her fingers over her lips before folding them tightly in her lap. “How about I give you a tour?” She stands up abruptly before I have a chance to say anything and I nod slowly, pushing myself up from the couch too.
“Sure, why not?” I run my hand through my hair and look down at the bottle of champagne I dropped a couple notes on before I showed up here. I thought this was going to unfold a lot differently than it is right now. I mean, I don’t know how smart it is to take a job where I live with a woman that I want to strip down and fuck on every surface in this place. Sounds like a recipe for disaster to me, and I’m not a guy that likes drama. At all. Yet, I can’t deny the idea of seeing her every day, of being around her, getting to know her like no one else can, it makes a powerful argument to take the job.
“Okay, so that was the living room, this is the dining room and kitchen. Out the sliding door there is the patio and pool,” she points to the glistening water visible through the double glass doors leading out to her deck.
“Where would I be sleeping?” I interrupt. “Would I have my own room? Or do you need some extra protection at night, cause I think I could have that covered,” my voice is a low rumble that seems to vibrate over her skin and down her spine. Vanessa’s pale skin glows pink as her mouth opens a little and her teeth bite into her full, kissable lip.
She clears her throat, “You would have your own room, of course,” she runs her hands down over her clothes like there’s a stubborn wrinkle in her dress that she is desperate to remove.
“Of course,” I smile, I love seeing her all worked up and flustered. It’s endearing in a town so full of soulless women, to meet someone so stunning on the outside and so sincere on the inside. “I’m just messing with ya, besides I don’t think you could handle me sleeping in your bed sweetheart. I’d destroy you.”
“I, um, okay, so this is my home gym.” She tries to brush off my comment but I can see it marinating in her mind and making her body involuntarily react as her nipples pebble under her sundress. “There’s not much to it, just an elliptical and some weights, but you’d be free to use it, if you wanted to,” she continues on down the hall, brushing me off.
“No thanks,” I glance inside at the equipment. “I like to run outside with Axle,” I follow her as she keeps showing me around.
“Axle? Oh, is that your dog’s name? That’s cute,” she stops and looks over her shoulder at me and it’s almost too much. I can easily picture her looking over her shoulder at me like that while I fuck her tight little pussy from behind.
“He’s not ‘cute,’ he’s a military trained dog.”
“Wow, is he friendly?”
“As friendly as anyone who’s been blown up in a war,” I quip.
Vanessa’s eyes travel my face over to my scars and she looks like she wants to ask about them, but thinks better of it and turns back around. “So there’s not much left, there is the main bathroom here,” she points inside the large, pristine room, clad in white tile. “That’s my room down there,” she points to the end of the hall and you’d be here.” We stop in front of the open door and I softly brush past her, pressing into her warm, soft body as I step inside.
Did I just hear her suppress a breathy sigh? Or am I imagining things? I look back at her and she composes herself quickly, following me into what could be my new quarters for the next few months.
“It’s nice,” I look around the spacious bedroom. It has a closet much bigger than I’d ever need and comes fully furnished with a big bed, although the fluffy pillows and comforter would have to go. There’s a wall-mounted TV hanging from the opposite wall and a French door that leads outside to another patio. “You know, I’ve gotta ask,” I let my gaze slowly lick her body from her toes up, “you really don’t seem like the kind of girl who would go to a sex club. What was it you were looking for there?” I step toward her and she doesn’t move. I can see her pulse vibrating in her neck as she takes a deep breath and flutters her eyelids.
“What was I looking for?” Her voice is breathy and I can smell her natural perfume. It intoxicates me and it takes every ounce of self-restraint I have in my body not to grab her and toss her down on this bed only steps away from us.
“Yeah.”
“I was looking for you,” she answers.
“Well, you’ve got me here,” I growl as the urgency to rip off her clothes overcomes me. “Now the question is, what do you want now?”
10
Vanessa
In the time, it takes me to blink once, a hundred scenarios run through my head. In almost all of them I’m naked. Pure need aches inside my core as a shiver of lust licks my spine. The way Gabe is standing over me, his hulking frame eclipsing mine, his muscles almost as rigid and vein-streaked as his cock was last night. I’ve never felt this pooling heat in my belly before that seems to be spreading out, down from my belly button to my pussy. I want to give in to him. I want to feel a real man spread me open, fill me until I can’t take another inch and make me cum. I want to scream his name as my face contorts in pleasure like the woman I saw last night at the club. But I know it won’t happen.
It never has, and I’m not sure it ever will. My cheeks blaze again, but this time with embarrassment, as I wonder for probably the billionth time, if I’m some kind of freak or if I’m broken. Why can’t I even bring myself to climax? What is wrong with me? The last thing I need is to expose that secret to him. Sure, this is the first time I’ve ever felt such a primal desire for anyone, but I don’t think it would change whatever is fucked up inside of me.
“I mean, I was looking for someone like you and someone l
ike the women I saw and just, I was looking to understand the whole scene,” I step back from Gabe, and break the spell we’ve both been under. The intolerable tension between us seems to shatter, like a rock being thrown through a window in a hot car, I feel like I can finally take a lungful of air as my woozy head settles and my wits return to me.
“Why?” He doesn’t step forward, instead the intense stare he just held me under follows me as I make more room between us.
“It’s for the movie,” I answer, pretending that there’s something out on the patio worth looking at. Anything to avoid the powerful, almost hypnotic state I feel when I look at him. “I’m playing a woman who is a nymphomaniac. She’s big into the sex club scene and it’s not a world I know anything about. I wanted to go see if I could understand the draw and maybe learn a bit about it so I can play her character convincingly,” I tell half the truth. Obviously, I’m leaving out the part about my own sexuality. How it’s stifled and I’m desperate to unlock it. How I hope that I can discover what’s holding me back through this role. How I don’t want to keep living a life where I hear so much about the amazing experiences people have with sex, like I am some kind of alien that can never truly understand.
“Interesting, so it’s all just for research then?” I don’t look back at him. I refuse to meet his eyes, knowing damned well that if I do, he will see right through me.
“That’s right,” I answer flatly. “You know, you’re right about me not being the kind of girl that goes to places like that,” I finally whirl around to face him, “but you looked like you fit right in there.” I feel a tinge of anger swirl inside me as it occurs to me exactly how comfortable he did look last night. Like he’s been going for years. Jealousy nips at my insides, how many women has he met there? How many has he fucked? I know it doesn’t make sense for me to care, but I do. I almost feel some strange sense of betrayal at the idea of him sliding his cock into some strange woman out on the dance floor. I can see it in my mind, and I hate it.
The Beauty's Beast Page 4
