“Diesel said you apologized to him. Why did you apologize to him but not me? Makes me wonder.”
Crap.
“Because I . . .” I froze, unable to think of a legitimate reason.
“Ash thinks you might be distancing yourself from me on purpose. To keep me off our stepfather’s radar. He says it’s a self-sacrificing stunt like I might pull in your place.”
Double crap.
“It won’t work.”
Triple crap.
When I said nothing, she continued.
“If you need some space, fine. I’m going to give you a little. You’re busy with the Valentine film. Sunup to sundown and repeat for the next three or four months. You’re going to be too tired to find trouble. And even if you’re not, Maximillian isn’t going to let anything happen to you.”
Fanny let out a sigh. “I’m heading out on a short tour with the Dogs to help with Ramon’s solo album. But whether I’m in the penthouse in OB or on a tour bus in Des Moines, I’m always just a phone call away whenever you finally decide to wise up, change your mind, and talk to me.”
• • •
We switched roles. Max made the coffee and I showered first, then we headed to the set together.
At the studio, I went straight to makeup and wardrobe while Max went to human resources for a security badge. When I exited the costume room and stepped out into the hall, he was waiting for me.
“Holy shit!” he exclaimed. “You don’t even look like the same person.”
“Thanks.” My fire-engine-red lips curling, I did a little twirl in my stripper outfit and stilettos. “Crystal Gambino, at your service.”
“Um, all right.”
Max moved closer, so we were almost touching. He lifted his hand toward my face but dropped it before making contact, seeming to remember we were in public.
“I’ll take you any way I can get you, Hollie. But I’m not sure how you want me to act here.” His gaze searched mine. “We didn’t get a chance to discuss it.”
My brow creased. “A boyfriend wouldn’t be welcome on set.”
“Then a bodyguard is what I’ll be.”
“It might get a little uncomfortable.” I gnawed my lip, thinking about how uptight he’d been at the premiere.
“I can handle uncomfortable. What I can’t handle is leaving you unprotected.” He glanced down the hall as someone entered it.
Guessing, I said, “You promised Fanny.”
“I did. But that’s not why.” He glanced back at me, and his fierce gaze pierced my cracked heart. “I love you. I couldn’t live with myself if something bad happened to you that I could’ve prevented.”
I started to put my hand on his arm, but the wardrobe door behind us popped open, and Zachary Flynn appeared.
“Hey, stripper.” His gaze slid past Max as he gave me the slow once-over. “You’re looking fine.”
“Hey, Zachary. I’d like to introduce you to my bodyguard, Maximillian Cash.”
Zachary lifted his chin to acknowledge Max, then took my arm and pulled me along with him down the hall. “We have a love scene today,” he said to me, dismissing Max.
Not that a six-foot-six bodyguard was easy to disregard, just that Max didn’t rank as being worthy of notice by the superstar who earned $50 million per film.
“I remember.” Behind me, I could feel Max’s gaze boring into my back. “Not that being shoved up against a wall in an alleyway constitutes a love scene.”
“It does for our characters.” Zachary gave me a sideways glance. “Given their origins, it’s practically a Hallmark moment.”
“You’re right.”
“I’m always right. That’s why they pay me the big bucks. Plus, I’m insanely good looking.” He threw one of his arms around my shoulders and pressed the steel bar on the door in front of us with his other hand so we could exit the building.
A muttered curse came from behind us and I glanced back, not sure if the scowl on Max’s face was because of the door closing on him or because Zachary had his arm around me. Likely, it was both. But more the latter.
“Ride with me in my car.” My costar gestured to the first SUV idling by the curb.
There were several. Everyone involved in the shoot today would convoy to the location. The driver rounded the hood and opened the rear passenger door for us.
“I’ll just go in my own.” I glanced at Max. He was wearing his stony expression and polarized shades. I couldn’t read him.
“Come in mine.” Zachary’s brow creased, and he frowned at Max. “Alone. You don’t need protecting from me. We should go over our lines. Get in character. It’s an intense set of scenes for us today.”
“All right. Just give me a second.” I turned away from him and moved toward Max. He dipped his shaded gaze to acknowledge me when I stopped in front of him. “I’m going with Flynn.” I hooked a thumb over my shoulder.
“Yes, Miss Wood.”
“You can go in the second SUV.”
“I can’t guard you if I’m inside the other vehicle.” He spoke without inflection, but there was an underlying edge to his tone that made me prickly and defensive.
“This is my job,” I said in a low voice. “There isn’t anything romantic going on between Zachary and me.”
“If you say so.” Max nodded once and moved away.
I watched him go, feeling his disapproval, and it bothered me. I took one step to follow him, but Zachary whistled sharply and called my name.
Torn for a moment, I glanced back and forth between the two vehicles. The choice of which to ride in seemed significant. But Max kept on the path he was on without looking back, and Zachary called me again.
“C’mon, Hollie.”
“Coming,” I said, turning and moving toward him in the opposite direction from Max.
Chapter Forty-Seven
* * *
“I need a drink,” Max said as soon as we entered the condo that evening.
“I don’t have any alcohol.” I dropped my chin. After a long emotional day on set, I was exhausted.
“I’ll go to the liquor store around the corner.”
“Okay, but . . .”
“But what?” Key to the condo in his hand, he turned to glance back at me. He looked so handsome, like a businessman at the end of a productive office day wearing an expensive charcoal suit with a gray-and-black striped tie loose around his masculine throat.
But the irritated glint in his eyes gave me pause. It had been difficult to concentrate and do my job knowing Max was irritated with me. It felt like the premiere all over again. Only he wasn’t drawing me close and declaring himself. He was going away from me, maybe punishing me for choosing to get into the car with Zachary instead of him.
“Max,” I said, trying to find the words to explain. “Everything that happened today was just business. Acting.”
“I know that. You’ve told me several times.” His eyes flared. “That you keep telling me makes me think maybe I should worry when I’d determined in my mind that I wouldn’t.”
“Oh.” My mouth rounded.
“I just saw the woman I love being groped, kissed, fondled, and fucked all freaking day by another guy. She seemed to enjoy it. I know it wasn’t real, but you’re such a good actress, it seemed real. I wanted to rip off Flynn’s head by the time the director finally called it a day. I’m pretty on edge, and I’m not fit to be around you right now.”
“I’m sorry.” My eyes filled.
Max dipped his head, turned on his heel, and slammed out the door.
Maybe I should have said something about the alcohol, offered him an alternative to drinking. But he hadn’t given me a chance, and I wasn’t brave enough to risk a confrontation with him so angry.
My hands curling into fists, I stared at the door, willing the tears back.
This is part of being in a relationship. And with my profession, ours was going to be tougher than most.
I turned away from the door, made myself eat the pre
pared meal the service had left behind for me, and tried not to worry.
• • •
Two hours later as I stepped out of the shower, I heard Max return.
Belting on a robe, I exited the bathroom as he was entering the bedroom. He no longer wore his jacket, his shirt was untucked, and he was barefoot.
“You’re so beautiful.” He only slurred his words a little.
Don’t be scared. He won’t hurt you. Max would never hurt you. He’s not Samuel.
“Thank you,” I managed to reply, though my voice was tinny with panic. “You’re not so bad yourself.” Nervous, I remained frozen as he moved closer and the alcohol fumes on him washed over me.
“Speaking of bad.” He stopped and unthreaded his belt.
My gaze dropped to it and the sliver of toned skin that his motion revealed. Desire stirred in me, despite my fear.
“You’ve been a naughty girl today, kissing and grinding on another man.” He folded the leather in half and slapped it against his flattened palm.
My eyes widened as it cracked.
“Max.” I lifted my gaze and licked my dry lips. “I know today was rough. I don’t know what you’re doing, but I think maybe we should just go to bed and talk about things in the morning when you’re sober.”
“You do know. I’ll show you.”
I wanted to protest, but like with his drinking tonight, I remained silent and followed him to the bed.
He sat on it and beckoned me. Because his expression wasn’t threatening, I shuffled cautiously forward, but squeaked in surprise when his arm flashed out and he grabbed me. Throwing me facedown over his knees, he flipped my robe up, exposing my bare behind to the cool climate-controlled air.
“Max, please—”
“Silence.” He stroked my rounded curves with the unyielding leather.
A rush of heat rolled through me at the memory of how masterfully he’d pleasured me the night before. My clit swelled, and my nipples pebbled against his hard thighs. I could feel the heat of his skin through the thin silk robe, and wiggled impatiently.
“Be still.” He clamped his forearm down to hold me. A moment later, his belt whistled through the air and snapped against my skin, burning it like a flame.
“I don’t like this.” Tears pricked my eyes. I felt humiliated, my trust betrayed. It didn’t seem right.
“Quiet.”
I tensed as the belt whistled, then cracked as it connected with my flesh again. The lower halves of both globes of my ass stung with stripes of fire now.
“Who do you belong to, baby?”
“You,” I cried out as he stroked his hand softly over the scorched patches of skin. The gentleness after the brutality made the gathered tears roll down my cheeks.
“Good girl. No more pain tonight, only pleasure.” Max lifted me in his arms and hugged me tight to his chest for a long moment.
Wanting his comfort, I almost threw my arms around his neck, but before I could act on that desire, he tossed me onto the bed. I bounced on the mattress once.
When I managed to get my bearings, I came up on my elbows to see his shirt was already off. My mouth going dry, I watched him unbutton his trousers.
After lowering his zipper, he peeled off his boxers along with the all-season wool pants. Stepping out of the remaining items of clothing, he moved toward me, his cock straight as an arrow.
“Sweet Hollie.” He gathered me close, kissing the tears from my cheeks. “My Hollie.”
Laying me out on the bed as he had before, he caressed me, licking and sucking all the places he knew gave me the most pleasure.
He did give me pleasure. This was Max, but he didn’t seem to notice that there was an underlying tension within me. He’d always seemed to be so in tune with me before, and him not being that way tonight made him feel like a stranger.
On the other hand, I wanted to please him. It was my fault he’d had a hard day. My fault he’d been so upset he’d had to go drinking. So what if I did a little extra acting in my own bed at the end of the day.
• • •
The talk I’d been determined to have with Max didn’t happen the next morning. He had a massive hangover, and then we worked late again. So I put it off.
The next day he was so sweet and made love to me so tenderly, I didn’t have the heart to bring up a subject matter that would likely put us at odds. Then the next day he was gone early in the morning for his day off.
He left me a note, a sweet love note that I read and reread. The condo seemed too empty with him gone.
Work that day was at the studio, so I took the car service in alone. Filming was productive, maybe even more so without me having to worry about Max’s reactions, but I still missed him being close by.
When he returned late in the evening, I met him at the door and hugged him close, but he was quiet and reserved in a way that worried me. He hadn’t been out drinking that I could tell. He smelled like sunshine and ocean.
Once again, I decided to let it go, but he brought up my concerns himself on the weekend.
“Hollie.” He took a seat beside me on the sectional. “Can you set aside the social media stuff for a minute? I want to talk to you about something.”
“Sure.” I lifted the computer off my lap and leaned forward to place it on the coffee table.
He glanced at the screen, then frowned at me. “You keep putting Hart’s people off.”
I dropped my chin. “I don’t want to talk in detail about that night with a bunch of strangers.”
“You can’t avoid it forever.”
“I know.”
“You need to talk about it with someone.” Max brushed the fall of my hair aside and peered at me with his gorgeous blue eyes soft, and a gentle expression on his handsome face. “How about me?”
“No.” I shook my head.
“You don’t trust me to understand?” His frown deepened.
“I don’t trust anyone to understand. I . . . I haven’t even told Fanny everything.”
He nodded as if I confirmed something he’d already guessed. “That’s not healthy.”
“What he did to me wasn’t healthy or remotely normal.”
“I get that. I’m so sorry, baby.” His brow creased as I drew my legs up to my chest and wrapped my arms around them. “And there she goes.”
“What do you mean?”
“You retreat. You avoid. You withdraw into yourself. Like with the distance you’ve allowed to develop between us.”
What? He was the one, not me. “I don’t—”
“Denying there’s a problem between us doesn’t make it go away.”
“Why don’t we start with me,” I said. “What did I do wrong? If you don’t tell me, I can’t fix it. Did I do something to upset you?”
“Yes, baby.”
“What?” My brows rose.
“The emotional withdrawal, mainly. I can feel it from you in bed. It makes me hesitant to touch you.”
“You frightened me the other night,” I blurted. “With the drinking and the spanking.”
His eyes flared hot for a long moment, then cooled. “All right. Okay. You seemed to like it at the time, but maybe I misread the situation.”
I nodded.
“I thought it would be a good way to reestablish the parameters of our relationship. It gets so skewed at your work. Did I get it wrong, us wrong? Do you not like me leading in the bedroom?”
“I do like you being in charge sexually.” My cheeks flamed. “I just didn’t like the belt and the drinking.”
My cell suddenly rang, and I sighed. It had been ringing all morning. Olivia. The assistant director. Fanny. I’d ignored all of them, and ignored this one as well.
“You were saying?” Max glanced away from the cell as it stopped ringing and turned back to me.
“Just those two things. That’s all.” I braced. “Is there, um, anything else that I’ve done?”
“Not what you’ve done.” He raked a hand through his hair while
studying me closely. “It’s more what you haven’t.”
“And that is?”
“I’ve said the words, Hollie. Many times. But you don’t say them back. With all the other stuff—”
“What other stuff?” I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to ease the painful tightening of my stomach.
“The ignoring my wishes at your work. The withdrawal from me here in our bed. The refusal to confide important stuff.”
Oh my God, he was right. He knew me pretty well. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not asking you to apologize, shug. I love you. That’s not going to change.”
The vise around my stomach loosened.
My openness to being vulnerable had changed as I’d watched Samuel and my mom. Love had become hatred. I might not have seen the beginning of the crumbling of their marriage like Fanny did, but I had seen the end, and it had affected me.
Max sighed. “I just need you to tell me that you’re with me, and that we’re working together on building something strong.”
“I’m with you. I’ll try harder. I have a lot of stuff to work through.” It didn’t really register until right now just how much.
“Like what happened with Samuel?”
“Yes.” I swallowed hard. “And before that with him and my mom, and him and me.”
“Did he . . .” This time Max swallowed, and I watched his Adam’s apple bob. “Did he abuse you?”
“No,” I said, and the sudden intensity in him relaxed. “Not physically.”
“Oh, Hollie.” His eyes burning cobalt bright, he reached for and took my hand, upsetting my defensive positioning. “He’s a sorry son of a bitch. Can you talk to me about it? I think it will help you—and us—if you do.”
“Not yet.” I withdrew my hand from his. I was afraid to tell him. Afraid knowing how weak I was would be a turnoff. “Give me some time. Don’t be mad. You asked me for some processing time once, and I gave it to you.”
“You did.” The crease in his brow deepened.
“So now it’s my turn.”
(Complete Rock Stars, Surf and Second Chances #1-5) Page 111
