The Beauty's Beast

by Eddie Cleveland

  “What the fuck?” I cover my ass with both hands and move away from him, I’m a little afraid he’s lost his mind. I don’t know what he’s going to do.

  “What?” He doesn’t look the least bit fazed by my outcry. “I’m trying to keep the scene real,” he answers breezily.

  “Get the fuck away from her, creep!” Gabe lunges up onto the set and shoves Erik hard, knocking him over onto his ass. He grabs the paddle out of his hand and holds it above his head like he’s going to beat him with it as Erik holds up his hands cowering.

  “No, don’t! Not my face!” he shrieks.

  “Gabe, no! Don’t,” I scream and he looks over at me and, to my surprise, drops what was supposed to be a prop, to the floor.

  “Fucker,” Gabe snarls.

  “Okay, that’s it, buddy you’re fucking out of here,” Bobby starts yelling at Gabe and I jump in.

  “Look at what Erik did? Are you saying this is okay?” I turn around and don’t even care that I’m flashing my bare ass at the entire crew. I can feel the red welts forming on my ass.

  “I’m saying that this guy,” Bobby points at Gabe’s chest and looks up at him. Since he’s only around five feet tall it looks a lot like a chihuahua taking on a rottweiler, “is fired. That’s what I’m saying.”

  “You know what? I’m done,” I hold up my hands, “you don’t have to fire him because I quit. Find some other actress to put up with this shit, I’m fucking done.” I grab Gabe’s hand and march across the set, yanking my robe from my chair and putting it on.

  “If you quit you’re in breach of contract and you better bet I’ll be coming after you,” Bobby calls after me.

  “Good, we’ll see which case goes to court first yours or mine,” I yell back.

  “What are you gonna sue me for?” Bobby’s face is purple again as he practically foams at the mouth.

  “Oh, I don’t know how about allowing and even encouraging my co-worker to sexually harass me and physically assault me? Just for starters. I’m sure my lawyer will have a full list for you soon.” I tie my robe around my waist tightly and stroll off to my trailer with Gabe’s arm around me tight.

  As we leave the studio, he pulls me close, “Are you alright?”

  “I am now,” I nuzzle into him.

  I step inside my trailer and take less than two minutes to slip into some clothes, “You ready to get out of here?” I look over at him.

  “I’ve been ready since the first day I came here,” he pulls me in tight. “Hey, I’m proud of you,” he brushes my hair from across my forehead and circles his arm around my waist. His lips are tender and sweet against mine. His kiss is soft and sensual. “Let’s go,” he pulls back and tugs my fingertips, leading me out of the trailer and across the studio lot past the drivers hired by the Hollywood bigwigs and over to the cabs waiting by the gates.

  As we pass through the gates, paparazzi who just wait outside the fence all day hoping to pick up a soundbite or two, swarm us like flies.

  “Vanessa! Where are you going?”

  “Vanessa, who is your friend?”

  They all talk over top of each other and all of them are recording everything. I stop in my tracks and look into the unblinking eyes of their cameras and then up at Gabe, smiling. “This is my Gabe, the man I love,” I step into him and he pulls me so close I can barely breathe. His lips hover over mine for a second before covering them in another sultry kiss. This one leaves me gasping and desperate to find a taxi so we can get home and do this again … naked.

  Gabe leads me past the cackling crew of rag reporters and opens a cab door for me, letting me slide in before he joins me inside.

  My soul feels lighter and I can’t wipe the stupid smile off my face. In this moment, everything feels like the Hollywood ending. If this were a movie, it would be time for the credits to roll.

  34

  Vanessa

  As I walk from the car to my house, I can feel Gabe’s eyes on me. I don’t need to turn around to know his intense stare is licking my curves, the curves he’s always loved, the ones he’s made me feel beautiful for having, not ashamed of, as I lead the way to the front door.

  If my feet are hitting the pavement as I walk, I can’t feel them. It’s like the cobblestone path has exploded, leaving only white, dusty clouds to carry my weightless legs inside.

  I smile as I walk through the door, for the first time since I got the part in the movie, I finally feel light enough in my own skin. And it has nothing to do with eating enough lettuce or running enough miles to transform my body. The floating feeling which is lifting my soul isn’t about personal trainers or meal planning or calorie counting, it’s about love.

  It’s about seeing the profound beauty in someone the world wrote off as ugly, as if scars could ever be uglier than personalities. As if true beauty is something we can preserve with flawless skin. And it’s about the beauty he made me see in myself. How he looks at me, his eyes mesmerized with desire and his heart unable to hide behind the walls he’s lived behind for years now.

  Gabe briskly follows me inside and kicks the door shut quickly, wrapping his broad arm around my waist and pulling me in tight to him before I have a chance to take another step. “Come here,” he growls and tugs me backward until my ass is perfectly snug against his cock. We fit together like the broken pieces of those best friend lockets. Two torn halves of one heart that have finally been brought back together and made whole. “Where do you think you’re going?” he murmurs in my ear and I let my head fall back against his shoulder. Gabe’s lips envelope my earlobe as a sigh escapes my lips and my eyelids flutter closed.

  “Nowhere, if you keep doing that,” I admit, small tingles buzz down over my neck and pulse out through my body.

  My nipples pebble and my pussy clenches at just the simple pleasure his mouth kissing a trail over my neck, brings. I can’t believe I’ve become so sensitive, so responsive, to his touch. Sometimes it feels like he could bring me to orgasm with only a kiss. I smirk at the thought, especially a passionate kiss… on my lower lips.

  It’s hard to comprehend that only a short while ago, I had never had a single orgasm. It was like my ability to cum had been locked in a chest that only Gabe had a key to. I sigh as he grinds his cock against my ass and his fingers travel across my waistband, inching over to my belt buckle slowly while he drags his tongue over the sensitive skin on my neck. I can feel the heat pool in my core as I grow slick with need. My pussy aches to be claimed by him, to be taken by every inch of his hard, teasing cock. I press back against him, mewling, wordlessly begging him to stop taking his time, to stop needlessly dragging this all out and to rip my clothes off right here and fuck me right now.

  Gabe drops his hand from my belt and circles his thick arm around me instead, lifting my feet from the floor easily. I giggle as he carries me into the open space and over to the couch. “What are you doing?” I squeal, squirming against him playfully.

  “What?” He plops down on the couch and I fall back into his lap, my ass clearly feeling the detailed ridge of his generous cock through our pants. I bite my lip and snuggle back against him, eager to feel every single ridge and vein of his member inside me.

  “I figure if you’re going to grind against me, I might as well sit down and enjoy it,” his hands curl up around my knees and he tugs them open so my legs dangle on either side of his. I groan involuntarily and roll my head back as his fat dick presses against me tight.

  “Is that so?” I breathe, but don’t argue. I don’t want to lose this moment or take away from this feeling building up inside me.

  “It is,” he muses and flicks open my belt, his fingers quickly popping open the front of my pants before he slides them inside. I wiggle against him as he slowly but deliberately drags his fingertips over my pussy and glides them inside.

  “Ohhh!” I swirl my hips, overwhelmed with the feeling of his cock filling the crack of my ass and his fingers exploring my clit.

  “That’s right sweetheart,
I’m gonna make you cum on my fingers and then I’m gonna watch you lick it off, you're my dirty girl, aren’t you?” His voice rumbles in my ear and I nod. I can’t seem to form words anymore, just breathy noises as I twist and writhe against him hypnotically. “That’s my good girl.” He nips my earlobe and I arch my back as my thighs tremble and my swollen clit throbs against his finger. “Then, I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’re going to be happy you don’t need to go anywhere tomorrow cause you won’t be walking for a while. I hope you’re ready for this beast, beauty,” he thrusts his cock against me and I gasp, my breathing is ragged and my pulse is racing. His fingers are driving me to the edge and I’m so close to losing myself as I fall over the cliff.

  Thunk-thunk-thunk!

  I jump and my eyes spring open with surprise as I look at the front door with shock. “Who the fuck…”

  “Don’t move, ignore it,” he growls and never breaks the rhythm of his fingers swirling on my clit.

  He’s right. Fuck whoever is at that door. Fuck the entire outside world. I have everything I care about, everything I need right here. I close my eyes again and relax back into Gabe, letting everything outside of us disappear.

  Thunk-thunk-thunk!

  “Ms. Parker! Open up, it’s the Los Angeles Police Department!”

  Okay, so it doesn’t make everything disappear.

  Gabe yanks his hand free from my open pants and I scramble to my feet, zipping up my jeans and fastening my belt as quickly as my flustered fingers can manage.

  “Ma’am! We know you’re in there! Please open the door!” A demanding cop yells through my front door.

  My hands shake as I try to smooth them down over my hair. I look over at Gabe nervously, and he gives me the same look I’m giving him. Confusion tinged with fear.

  For a second neither of us moves. We’re locked in a silent conversation that we both understand in our hearts. The banging at my door makes me jump and I walk over, opening it with a big, fake smile pasted to my face. Standing on my doorstep are two, hulking men in police uniforms that could very well be a couple strippers who need directions to a bachelor party.

  “Yes?” I tilt my head and wait for some kind of explanation about why they’re here.

  “Ms. Parker is Gabriel Keenan in your home?” The cop with the mirrored sunglasses and olive skin asks.

  “Umm,” I look over my shoulder at Gabe and he nods. “Yes,” I answer.

  “Ma’am, we’re going to have to ask that you either bring him to the door or let us come inside,” the other cop with the hazel eyes and dark hair demands curtly.

  “What is this about?” Gabe walks up behind me and comes out into the open.

  “Gabriel Keenan?”

  “Yes?”

  “You are being placed under arrest for the assault of Erik Fisher,” the officer with mirrored glasses flicks his handcuffs free from his belt and grabs Gabe by the wrist. The metal bracelet circles around him and clicks shut as he continues, “you have the right to remain silent.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me? That fuckwad is pressing charges?” Gabe snarls.

  “Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.” He clicks the other handcuff down over his wrist as I try to fight the instinct to yell and scream and try to somehow, stop this from happening.

  “I can’t fucking believe this,” Gabe shakes his head angrily but doesn’t struggle against the police.

  “You have the right to speak to an attorney…” the police officer continues as he guides Gabe from my house to the state vehicle in the driveway.

  Helplessness crashes over me in waves, drowning me in panic as they take him away and tuck his head down, guiding him into the back seat of the car. I don’t know what to do or how to make this stop as they slam the door behind him, disappearing inside the car and drive away.

  35

  Vanessa

  The lump in my throat seems to grow larger every time I swallow and tears of anger pin prick the corners of my eyes. I watch as the cops flash the lights but keep the siren silent as they pull out of my driveway.

  That.Fucking.Asshole!

  My hands are shaking as a quiet, steady rage builds up inside me. I wipe away the tears now streaming over my cheeks, with my trembling fingers and watch the police cruiser disappear as it turns at the end of my street and leaves my blurry vision.

  I hate that I cry when I get angry. I’ve always felt like it makes me weak at a time that I should be at my strongest. Some people get upset and cyclone angrily, pulling in everything and everyone around them until they wear themselves out and leave a trail of destruction in their warpath. And then there’s me. The one who chokes up and sobs because the vibrating rage seems to get stuck in my throat and build into a boulder than I can’t swallow or ignore, and the only thing that makes it go away are the tears.

  This is exactly what Erik wanted. He wanted to ruin our night, maybe even our future if the charges stick. He wanted to fester under my skin like a boil, making it impossible to forget him. Just like a child, if he couldn’t get positive attention from me, he made sure he still had my focus, even if it’s because he’s the focus of my hatred.

  Well, he might think he still knows me. He might think he still controls me. But I’m not the naive girl he once dated. And I’m not his doormat.

  Fuck that guy.

  I turn on my heel and march inside, flicking away my tears and slamming my front door behind me with a wall shaking boom. I immediately grab my phone from the coffee table and swipe my thumb over it, pressing Fiona’s contact and listen to it ring.

  “Vanessa? Okay, I just heard about the blow-out today. I was just gonna call you. Now, I don’t know if you’re wallowing in regret or popping champagne, but either way I’m here to help you. Also, and I think you’re going to like this, you’ve got another part being offered to you.”

  “Fiona,” my voice is like cold, hard steel, “I do need your help.”

  “Okay, tell me what you need, this is my time to shine for you doll. Want your part back on the Fifty Shades knock off? I’ll see if I can smooth it over…”

  “No!” I don’t mean to yell at her. No part of this churning lava burning up my stomach is about her. “Sorry, it’s just that the police just paid us a visit at my place,” my lip quivers for a second but I take deep breath and push it back down. Crying won’t fix this. Now is the time for action.

  “What? Why? What am I missing?” I can hear Fiona breathe out her puff of smoke over the receiver.

  “Before I walked off the set, Erik was being a douche and Gabe punched him. He totally deserved it,” I try to explain.

  “Of course,” she agrees.

  “But the cops just arrested Gabe for assault. Apparently he’s pressing charges, the fucking coward,” I clutch the phone tighter in my hand wishing I could circle it around Erik’s neck.

  “Okay, breathe, those charges won’t stick. It’s bullshit, right? No judge is going to throw Gabe in jail over a little scuffle,” Fiona snorts.

  “This is LA, if it means hype, it can happen. I’m guessing the director is loving all the free publicity he’s getting out of this, not to mention Erik. There’s no such thing as bad coverage, right? Besides, he did it in the middle of the set. I’m sure someone has cell footage and there was a ton of witnesses. I’m not so sure it’ll be an open and shut thing,” I rub my hand over my leg like I’m trying to smooth out invisible wrinkles. “This is all my fault,” my voice creaks as my words feel like they’re getting stuck in my throat again. “I don’t know what to do. This feels like a fucking stupid dream, what am I going to do?” The tears I’d managed to swallow for this long, resurface like a pick ax hit into an underground spring. I can’t hold them back this time. They slide down my face and drip off my chin.

  “Listen, Vanessa, listen to me. I’m gonna help you with this, okay? I have an idea,” Fiona coaches me through my breakdown.

  “I’m listening.” I try not to sob in her ear and pa
y attention.

  “Good, so, by any chance do you still have the stupid dick pics that Erik sent you?”

  I don’t answer. I don’t say “what the fuck” out loud because I’m in stunned silence. Is this a real conversation? Am I dreaming? I stare down at the phone in my hand. How can she be asking me about dick pics at a time like this?

  “Vanessa? Vanessa!” I hear Fiona’s muffled voice calling me and I bring the phone back to my ear.

  “Seriously, are you fucking with me right now?” I manage to answer her through grit teeth. “Gabe just got fucking arrested Fiona, and you’re asking me that?”

  “Hear me out, just calm down and listen to me,” she steamrolls over me nonchalantly, “do you have the pictures?”

  “I think so, yeah,” I don’t remember deleting them, so they’re still on my phone somewhere.

  “Great!”

  “Are you kidding me?” I can’t tell if she’s messing with me right now.

  “Listen! You told me he has a tattoo just above his cock, right?”

  “Yeah, some old Red Hot Chilli Peppers thing, it says Blood Sugar Sex Magik,’” I rub my fingers over my forehead and wonder where this is going.

  “Really,” she giggles.

  “Fiona!”

  “Alright, don’t bite my head off. Now, please, please, puh-leeze, tell me you didn’t exaggerate how small he is,” I can hear the glee in her voice.

  “Trust me, I was probably being generous,” I answer flatly and try to push the image of Erik’s nub-like cock from my mind.

  “Vanessa, I hope you’re ready for me to be your hero here. I mean, don’t throw me a parade or anything, but a nice bottle of wine will do just fine,” Fiona laughs.