by Kate Stewart
I eye the building behind her and the ones connected. “And on a bad day?”
“Wardrobe malfunction, pyrotechnic disasters, a clusterfuck of attitude, too much noise, and a pathetic spread from Craft service.”
I smile, and she smiles back. We’re going to get along just fine.
“Still, it’s pretty epic to watch it all come together. Come on, I know he’s been waiting for you. He hasn’t shut up about you all day.” She looks back at me in the hope I perceive her comment as supportive, and it does. I like her.
“That’s good to hear, thanks.”
As we fall in step, she gives me the side-eye. “He doesn’t bring women on set, so you must be doing something right.”
“We’ve only been on one date,” I confess, out of character.
“Must have been some date.”
I grin. “It was.”
“I don’t have to say this because I’m getting paid either way, but just so you know, he’s a good one. I’ve worked for two other actors since I started, and Lucas is like a fish out of water here. Which is a good thing.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, he’s too new to be demeaning or demanding, and he’s too good to turn into that kind of an asshole.”
“Good to know.”
“We’ll have to be really quiet,” she says, approaching the door. “I just got here. Your boy likes to run me ragged, but I think they’re in the middle of filming a scene. Lucas should have a break coming up.”
“Okay.” It occurred to me then that on our date we hadn’t even talked about movies much at all, not to mention I didn’t ask him what he was working on. Truth be told, I was a little intimidated to bring it up. I didn’t know what was acceptable to ask from a date’s point of view and where the line would cross into fandom. ‘I’ve missed you,’ is what has me following Nova inside.
“He didn’t tell me he was working on anything.”
“We had a few preproduction issues and just started a few days ago.”
Shrouded in darkness, we see the crowd further back in the warehouse surrounded by blinding lights. Perched high above them is an empty crane made for camera equipment.
“What’s it about?” I whisper, detecting the change in the air as we head toward the brightly lit part of the studio.
“Spy movie called Cairo. Lots of action and so not my bag.”
“Mine either.”
Nova rounds a cluster of men looking on at the commotion in the warehouse. It takes a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to my surroundings, but when they do, I want to gouge them out. In the middle of the warehouse, on top of a brightly lit bed, Lucas is fucking the hell out of Marie Toll, an up-and-coming actress who I just so happen to think is one of the prettiest and most talented.
Is this some kind of sick joke?
Lucas is practically naked as he swivels his hips, gripping her hair while the whole set watches on, rapt. There are people everywhere, and I glance between them to gauge their reactions as I shrink where I stand. Nova seems just as shocked at the scene as I am. She flips through her clipboard furiously as if she can somehow stop what I’m seeing and then leans over to me on a whisper. “I’m so sorry. They weren’t supposed to film this today.” I can feel her eyes on me as my face flames. I know Lucas is not having sex, I know it’s acting, I know that. But when he leans down and takes her mouth so completely, unexpected jealousy surfaces and courses through me. I can’t look away. And when he lifts her leg underneath the knee to drive in harder, my panties flood. I want it just like that. I want him the way she has him. With complete attention. Rough and wild. I want to be the woman beneath him.
What in the hell is wrong with you, Mila?
Acting, he’s just acting.
He’s so perfect fully naked, his rock-hard ass pumping furiously, his jeans around his ankles atop muddied construction boots. It’s as if they were so hot for each other, that they couldn’t take the time to undress. He’s grinding into her as I watch on, anger and lust battling inside. Lucas draws her perfect nipple into his mouth as she tilts her head back, a true-to-life moan escaping her lips. The scene is off the charts hot, and yet, I’m furious and hornier than I’ve ever been in my entire life. I’m fully aware of the boom operator holding the mic above them, of the camera capturing their every move, but it’s not what I’m transfixed on. It seems to last forever, and I, along with everyone else on set, am entranced until Lucas stills, collapsing on top of her. She smiles, murmuring into his neck. “That’s one way to start a conversation.” Someone next to the camera yells, “Cut.” And I’m snapped back into reality. Lucas pulls away, and I see a small pillow emerge from between them. Nova looks on at me horrified as I do my best to keep a level expression.
“I thought this was a spy movie,” I grit through my teeth.
“It is. This is the only sex scene.”
“So glad I could make it for this.”
Nova bursts into laughter and palms my shoulder. “She is so not his type. I’ll be back.”
Once dressed, Lucas sits on the edge of the bed and begins talking to Marie conversationally, while a man, who I assume is the director, walks over to them. After a few words and nods are exchanged, they both leave the set, and Lucas spots Nova, who gives him a jerk of her head in my direction. I can visibly see his curse as he scans the crowd until his eyes find mine. He doesn’t smile, and I don’t either. Lucas studies me briefly and then hangs his head.
He didn’t want me to see this.
That makes two of us.
Nova walks back to join me where I stand. “Oh, he likes you.”
My heated reply is instant. “Great. If this is like, let’s hope he doesn’t fall in love.”
She laughs, and I do too, but begrudgingly.
I wait on the sidelines for Lucas, praying that I don’t have to witness another take. When someone yells for a break, Lucas approaches slowly before moving in to kiss me. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you.” I turn my head dodging his lips, and his eyes reflect his agitation when he pulls back to study me. We get a few curious looks from those surrounding us. Noticing the attention, he curses and grabs my hand.
“Nova, we’ll be in my trailer. I want forty-five minutes without interruption.”
She eyes him warily. “Got it.”
“Lucas, maybe this is a bad idea,” I say, glancing back over my shoulder at Nova, who shoos me off with the wave of her hand. I’ve been blindsided, but my jealousy and confusion outweigh any residual nerves. I feel like I’m being dragged by his tight grip on my hand until he strokes the top of my wrist with his thumb. Somehow with that act, I’m strangely betrayed.
I’m hostile and have zero right to be jealous. I hardly know him. There’s no way to unsee the way he kissed her, the way he looked at her. It was familiar, and it hurt that the look he gave wasn’t distinctly mine, wasn’t exclusive to me. Conflicted is an understatement.
“Dammit to hell,” he grumbles, leading me out of the warehouse and into the lit parking lot. It takes us a few minutes to make the silent but intense walk to his trailer, and he leads me in, slamming the door behind me. It’s spacious and simple but has every modern convenience.
Lucas jerks open the fridge grabbing a bottle of water and downing half of it before he pulls out a bottle of wine. I can see from the label it’s the one we didn’t get to on our date, but not the same bottle, that one I have at home. He bought this one from memory.
“How pissed are you right now?” he asks, twisting the corkscrew in.
“I’m fine.”
He looks up to see I’m lying. “Your face is flushed.”
Along with my hostility, I’m aroused to the point of madness. I’m angry, but I’m also soaked and ready to pounce on him where he stands. That’s if I don’t slap him first.
It’s the oddest situation I’ve ever been in. I’m no saint, but this predicament questions my morals in a way I’m unfamiliar with.
My silence
has him cursing again as he uncorks the bottle and pours me a glass. It’s then when he’s got it extended toward me that I see true remorse in his jade eyes. “I’m so fucking sorry. We weren’t supposed to be filming that scene today.”
“Nova told me.” I take the wine, and I do a huge disservice to it by guzzling half. “I’m okay. This is your job. If we’re going to…” I pause, and he draws out the bob of his head in reassurance, “date.”
I swallow the rest of the glass and hold it out to him. He pours freely.
“Date, I have to get used to it, right?”
“That’s what you’re supposed to say, but we both know you’re lying,” he says with a sigh. He put on a shirt after the scene finished, but I can’t stop picturing the cuts of his body, and he looks so insanely gorgeous without clothes. If I’m objective enough, and woman enough, I could admit that it turned me on, but I’m having a hard time admitting it to myself.
“Mila, even if this were your job, I wouldn’t want to see another man’s hands on your body or tongue in your mouth. Fucking ever.”
“We barely know each other.” But the sentence rings hollow. There’s something between us, and it’s grown even with the lack of contact. I could chalk it up to expectations and imagination, which it very well could be, but it doesn’t feel like that either. It’s not the truth.
He runs a hand through his ‘just fucked’ hair. “I promise you, it’s the most uncomfortable part of filming. There’s nothing natural about it.”
I try to stay objective because it could be my saving grace.
“You were rather convincing.”
Shit. That sounded bitter and to top it off, I openly eye his crotch and am thankful he’s not hard. He catches my gaze and runs an impatient hand down his face.
“You’re disgusted, right?”
“No,” I whisper, downing the second helping of wine and place the glass on the counter. “It’s your job.”
“So you’ve said,” he counters dryly. “Twice. Why do I get the feeling that doesn’t matter?”
“Fine, it stung a little.” I flush at the memory of it. “That doesn’t mean I have a say.”
“What if you do?”
I shrug. “Even then, you didn’t purposefully do it to hurt me.”
“I wouldn’t.” He surveys my body, my nipples betray me hardening beneath my thin T-shirt as I picture his grind, the way he gripped her body, her slack jaw.
He bites his full bottom lip and both of his brows lift. “Convincing, huh?”
“The wine…” I trail off in a shit excuse.
The corners of his mouth lift as he takes a menacing step toward me.
“You’re turned on.” He surveys me and catches the shiver I’m unable to disguise.
Body flushing, I close my eyes and nod.
“But you won’t kiss me?” That has him more distraught than I am. He shakes his head in frustration. “I’ll be honest. I’ve never been in this position.”
“That makes two of us.”
“I don’t like it.” He takes another aggressive step toward me, and I shy away from his touch.
“Lucas, you just had another woman’s nipple in your mouth, so, no, I don’t want to kiss you just yet. I mean, I do, but should I?”
The timbre of his voice skates over my heated skin. “Four days I’ve been thinking about your lips, about touching you,” he whispers as his eyes trail slowly down my body. “I wanted to call, but we’ve been clocking seventeen-hour days since filming started and they blurred. I should have texted.”
I shrug. “It’s fine.”
“Stop lying, where the hell is that refreshing honesty I love so much?” His eyes blaze another path over me and static sparks off between us.
I’m molten, the wine batting away any moral dilemma. I can’t stop replaying his movements, the sight of his bare ass. I’m sick with need, and I make a decision to toss delicate and demure over my shoulder because my body is screaming for relief.
Maybe I’m not cut out for this, and we probably won’t last anyway.
Seize the moment, Mila. It’s been eight months!
Resigned, I move toward him placing my hands on his chest. He tenses beneath my palms as I make my proposition. “I won’t kiss you,” I whisper thickly, “but I will take the only part of you that hasn’t touched her.”
Sliding my hand down his chest and past the cut edges of his stomach, I cup his cock and find he’s already hard, for me.
He pauses, his eyes flaring. He’s stunned. Good, because I’m equally as shocked that I said it.
He watches as I slowly unfasten the buttons of his jeans and take him heavy in my hand. His cock jerks in my palm. Glancing down, I encase him, my fingers unable to touch due to his sizable girth before I hear his breath escape in a hiss. Pumping him once, my eyes flit back to his in challenge. “Tonight, this belongs to only me.”
We’re at the tipping point, and when he licks his lips, my only thought is…Checkmate. He moves in to claim me, and I shake my head.
“No touching.”
“You aren’t serious.”
“Oh, I am,” I assure him with a lusty edge to my voice. “You touch, we stop.”
His eyes hood. “Fuck, Mila.”
His reaction to my touch spurs me on as I shamelessly stroke him.
“I don’t have a condom,” he says, pushing his jeans down before he begins to toe off his boots. “But you can trust I’m good. I take this seriously.”
“We’re going to have to trust each other,” I whisper as I push him to sit at the breakfast bench in front of a small table. He leans back, as I pull off my T-shirt and unhook my bra.
His thick cock is pointing north and beads at the tip as I discard my bra and hear a groan coming from his lips while I unveil myself. Taking my time, I strip bare. Naked and unashamed, whether it be from wine or want, I’m in this. His eyes take in my every curve, and his knuckles whiten with the grip he has on the padding at the edge of the seat.
“You’re so fucking perfect,” he says, gripping himself in his hand and pumping slowly as he sucks in his full lower lip.
“Hands off, Lucas,” I order. He groans and releases himself.
Fully naked, I straddle his thighs and take him in my hand between us, resuming my tease. Teeth gnashing, he closes his eyes, and when he opens them, I see an evergreen forest full of fire. Sliding my thumb over his thick tip, I play with the growing wetness covering the head of him, loving the feel of the silky skin. I hold his gaze and soak it in. In my fantasies I’d never staked my claim on him, it was just the opposite. My appreciation for the unpredictable grows in abundance because I love this story already no matter the length of it, and it had only just begun. He moves to touch me, and I shake my head. “I was helpless watching you touch her, now it’s your turn.”
“Mila,” he grits out in warning while balling his hands into fists at his sides. “I need to touch you.”
“No.” I lift myself to hover above him and then slowly sink onto his stone cock, taking him in greedily, inch by inch while watching his lids lower further as lust-filled eyes penetrate mine. I’ve never been so in control, and at the same time, I feel like I’m on the verge of losing it any second, my body buzzing at his intrusion as I attempt to take him into me. There is no sound other than the humming motor of the fridge and our mingled, fast breaths. I’m too small for his size. Lucas grunts at the stretch, gently thrusting his hips and bites his lip so hard, it leaves a mark when he lets it go. Chest heaving, his eyes stay fixed on my sex as chorded muscles flex in his neck. When I’m unable to sink further, he goes to speak, and I silence him by sliding my tongue across his bottom lip. Lifting from him, I soak my palm with my tongue and wrap it around him, and he jerks his hips.
“Jesus Christ.”
Back on his thighs, I spread myself out resting my feet on the cushions next to him, and he watches as I ready myself, gathering my wetness and sliding it around my opening. Every part of this is filthy, and I r
evel in it.
“Mila,” he protests, his body taut and on the verge and I shake my head. Again, coating my palm with saliva I pump him vigorously before I lift to sink onto him. We both moan when I’m finally able to take him to the root.
“Fuck,” he grinds out hoarsely as he jerks inside of me and I begin to move. “I’m not going to last,” he threatens, his heart thundering against my palm. I tug off his shirt, and he helps me, tossing it aside like the nuisance it is. He’s my new playground, solid muscle covered in sculpted beauty and I let my fingers roam the defined contours of his chest while his hands remain idle. I ride him agonizingly slow, and it’s exquisite. The connection surpasses my daydreams. The air in the trailer is heavy with the weight of us. He takes it all in, his cock stretching me, my arousal seeping between. Control wavering, I swivel my hips, and his eyes flare, the intensity pushing us both to the edge of sanity.
He sinks into my rhythm, his hands lingering at my sides, waiting for permission, nostrils flaring.
“Fuck, Mila, please let me touch you!” He’s practically shouting, and I again shake my head, as I keep a steady pace before I reach between us massaging my clit. I’m flying and crashing all at once. Sweat beads above his top lip and I lean in, so our heavy breaths mingle.
“Fuck this,” he shakes his head as he begins to pump from below me and we both call out to the other as he thrusts up getting impossibly deep. Resolve breaks on both sides as he grips the back of my neck, hot mouth claiming mine before he fucks me with his tongue. After a thorough kiss, we separate and he leans back, watching me avidly as we work together, our movements and needs the same. Open-mouthed, we stare at each other, jaws slack in awe while we explode in movement. Leaning forward, he stills, reaching behind me and clearing the table of everything on it. I hear the loud crash of the script, his laptop, and the bottle of wine as I’m spread out before him. He attacks, hovering close, sucking my tongue while he furiously pumps into me thrusting so hard, I’m gasping his name. I’m getting exactly what I asked for.
I reach between my thighs and he bats my hand away.
