Beautiful Mistakes: Contemporary Romance Boxset Books 1-4

by Victoria Snow

  Talk about a dumb move.

  “Oh?” she questioned, raising her eyebrow.

  “Uh, yeah, that was majorly stupid of me. I’m sorry.”

  That seemed to soften her, and she smiled ever so faintly. “Well, I have heard guys say some pretty stupid things after they come.”

  “And boy, I certainly did come hard.”

  That seemed to please her further. “Yeah, you did. I had to use your shower. Hope you don’t mind.”

  The thought of her needing to wash my spend out of her so it wouldn’t drip down her thighs as she worked stirred something in me and I felt my dick start to perk up. While I had a healthy sort of sex drive, being ready to go so quickly after already orgasming once was new to me. It had to be Amber. There was no one else like her.

  “Only if you let me fill you right back up again.” I growled; my voice too low for anyone else to hear.

  She shuddered and stepped back. “Didn’t we just have a talk about professionalism?”

  “Sorry.” I wasn’t sorry at all. “I guess you just bring out the worst in me.”

  “Well, it’s not very hard to do.”

  The banter reminded me of old times, albeit much more sexually charged. Back when we were kids and I would tease her while she always tried to needle me. She’d always been so witty, even for being a touch younger than me, and I remember people wondering when we would just get on with it and actually date.

  I opened my mouth to keep it going, to keep her attention on me as long as possible. It was like she was the light, and I was some sort of plant desperate for her glow. But before I could get a single word out, a strangle cry ripped through the air, cutting through everything else.

  “What the hell was that!?”

  11

  Amber

  I bolted towards the sound, my heart in my throat. There were about a million and one things that could go wrong on a movie set and when I had heard that scream, my heart had stopped beating right in my chest.

  Both of us raced towards the noise and we came upon one of the PAs trying to help Amelia up from the ground, her face crumpled in pain.

  “Are you alright?” I asked, rushing to her other side. But Mickey beat me there, his arms scooping up the tall, beautiful woman like she was a child. That same hissing cat feeling rolled through me, but I ignored it. It was not the time for that.

  “Damn gopher hole! I didn’t see it and I stepped right in it on my weak ankle.” She let out a groan of pain and I really did feel bad to her. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I feel like an idiot!”

  “Hey,” I said, grabbing her hand while Mickey started walking. I assumed he was taking her to the med tent, which he had probably been shown when he first arrived on set. “You have nothing to apologize for. Accidents happen. I’m sure it’s not too bad.”

  She shook her head, her lips a thin line. “Nope. I’m pretty sure I just ruined everything. I know my body, and I heard a pop.”

  I swallowed hard at that. As a stunt worker, I was well aware of how it felt to have the boogeyman of an unexpected injury hovering over one’s head. “You think it’s broken?”

  “Thankfully, no. But I’m willing to bet anywhere from a muscle tear to a sprain.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Ouch indeed.”

  The woman looked so upset that I wanted to comfort her, even if I didn’t really know what to say. “Well, let’s see what the doctor has to say first, okay? I hear we have quite a good one on staff.”

  “I would hope so, considering all the stunt work.”

  I smiled at that. Although the woman did indeed look upset, she still was as charming as ever. I certainly wouldn’t be so gracious if I had fucked up my ankle in a gopher hole. I’d rolled my ankle very badly once in college and that wasn’t something I’d wish on anyone. It was a delicate joint with about a million and one pieces.

  Fingers crossed; she was going to be okay.

  * * *

  “So, what are we going to do now?”

  I chewed on my lip as two of the producers and the director stood in a little semi-circle in front of us. The mood was grim, and I couldn’t fucking blame them. Much to everyone’s dismay, Amelia was down for the count.

  It looked like she wouldn’t be able to get back to her training anytime soon either, so I felt really bad for her. I made sure to put into my calendar to check in on her in a few weeks, but for the moment, the commercial was the most pressing concern.

  “Can we digitally put her face on someone else’s?” One of the producers asked, straightening his button up. I figured it was a sort of nervous habit, and it made me more nervous too. Would I lose this job before it ever really got of the ground? If I hadn’t been so preoccupied with getting toe curling orgasms from Mickey, would I have been there to stop her? Would she have even been walking across the field at all, or was that solely because of my neglect?

  “Eh, that’s pretty damn expensive. And it’s not like we filmed close ups or b-reel of her. Not even a shred of mo-cap either.”

  Guilt coiled in my stomach, hot and sharp and damning. I had really let myself ruin everything for me, again hadn’t I? I had never been an impulsive person and my business always came first, so why was Mickey so easily able to sway me? Sure, the sex was insane -if that was even a good enough word for it. When he was inside me, bringing things out of me that I didn’t even know were possible, the rest of the world fell away. All the stress, all the pressure, the deadlines. It was just him and me, connected and sharing. He took over, and his strength, the sheer power of him gave me a haven to rest in. One where I didn’t have to be fighting or climbing, I could just be and feel. It was a pretty intoxicating feeling.

  But still, that was no excuse. A woman was hurt because I had been stupid and reckless and decided that getting my rocks of in the middle of a commercial set was too important to wait a damn minute.

  I chewed at my lips some more, spiraling down into anger at myself. Which was probably why I was so surprised when Mickey stepped forward to speak.

  “You should have Amber do it.”

  “Wait, what now?” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop him, and pretty much the entire production assembled stared at the mountain of a man.

  “Pardon?” That was the lead producer. The one I’d talked to the least and gave off the impression of having the most massive stick crammed up his ass.

  “You should have Ms. Shelstien do it. She’s experienced, she already knows all the choreography. She has a bit of a fanbase built in already. It’s the easiest, quickest and cheapest solution.”

  While I wasn’t so hot on any of those descriptors, I couldn’t help but flush with color. Mickey thought I should be his counterpart? It was one thing to sleep with me, it was another entirely to think that I could carry a whole role on my shoulders. It was… flattering, to say the least.

  But before I could say anything, whether it was an excuse to decline the kind gesture or an agreement, or even an apology for his speaking out of turn, the producer was speaking again.

  “At her size? Nobody will believe it.”

  Although I was used to those kinds of words, that kind of sentiment, it still stabbed through me like a spear of ice. Ow. Discredited not based on my ability, or merit. Just on my waistline.

  I was strong, dammit! And I held my own with Mickey for quite a while.

  It took all of my willpower to keep my face trained in a calm, professional mask. I had heard these words before and reacting emotionally was about the worst thing I could do. They would use that against me until kingdom come. I’d lose jobs in the future, born on the whispers of ‘I heard she’s easily offended…’

  But once more, before I could respond otherwise, Mickey took another step forward. I knew him well enough to not take it as a threat, but it was interesting to watch the two producers and director shrink.

  “Excuse me?”

  Mickey’s voice was low, dangerous. It made the hair on the back of my neck
stand on end and my still-recovering libido perk up a little. I licked my lips, watching as a truly great scene unfolded in front of me.

  “Well, it’s just that we need someone really fit, you know, for the warrior look,” the man sputtered, eyes wide.

  “You want a warrior?”

  “Yes.”

  “And somehow, the woman who literally fights and risks her life for a living, a woman who’s fired guns from both hands while being suspended from her waist, a woman who is strong and capable and everything you would want in a warrior, somehow doesn’t fit the look you’re going for?”

  The producers all shrank forward. “It’s not about us!” He tried. “It’s the audience-”

  “Oh, don’t give me that!” Mickey objected, making a grand gesture. I had to admit; it was a bit awe inspiring. I was so used to thinking of Mickey as the affable giant from my teenage years when really, he was a confident, dominant man who really knew how to turn it on.

  Or turn me on, apparently.

  “Have you been on social media at all? It’s all about being thick and built. People are tired of seeing the same body type constantly, especially when it doesn’t make sense. You need a fighter? You need a warrior? You want to save time on your commercial? Then put Ms. Shelstien in the role. You trusted her enough to hire her company, why wouldn’t you trust her for the role?!”

  There was a moment of quiet when he finished, looking down at the three men with that intense gaze. I could only stare at him, completely shook to my core by the whole experience.

  Twice I had ditched this guy after sleeping with him. I’d returned the ring he’d try to give me as a gift, and I was insisting on an annulment to our marriage that he didn’t seem too worried by. At every step I was making things more difficult for the man, and yet he was standing in front of me, risking his reputation and future hiring options.

  And for what? I’d already given him the goodies. It wasn’t like he was going to earn brownie points to lure me into bed.

  No… it seemed genuine. He just wanted to help me.

  Bizarre.

  “You make some good points.” For the first time since I’d arrived, I felt like the producers actually looked at me. “Get her in a blond wig and I can see her fitting the Viking profile. Congratulations, Ms. Shelstien, it looks like you just went from behind the scenes to in front of the camera.”

  If I thought it was difficult to keep my face in a professional mask before, it was suddenly ten times harder. “Of course. Thank you. I’ll make sure to update my team.”

  “Make sure you do. Oh, and get yourself to make up and wardrobe so they can make sure they have what they need for you.”

  I gave him a quick salute and then practically ran off. But before I left the tent, I made sure to mouth a thank you to Mickey. I wasn’t sure if he knew it, but he might have just changed everything for me.

  Wow. What a day. And to think, we still had the entire shoot left to go.

  12

  Amber

  “Alright, and I want the Blue Team to charge on three! One… Two… Three!”

  I took a deep breath and bolted forward; my sword raised. I let out a battle cry as I did, feeling it fuel me and everyone else around me.

  It was exhilarating, rushing across the grass as if we were at war ourselves. It was easy to get lost in the narrative, get drunk on the adrenaline of it all. I was so into the scene that I was actually surprised when Mickey jumped down into frame with me, towering over me with an axe in each hand. I came up short a scant foot away, leaving us staring at each other like two leaders of rival factions.

  Because, ya know, that’s what we were supposed to be.

  “Cut!”

  I blinked in surprise, brought back to the real world by the director’s call. Oh right. The shoot. We were on the final day and we were filming all of the main chunks. It was crazy to think that we were doing a week’s worth of work for a minute regular commercial and a five-minute extended trailer at some gaming convention or another.

  “Alright, can I have the choreographed extras position themselves? I want to do the close ups of the leads now, starting from the stare off.”

  Oooh, the stare off. That was going to be interesting. It was one of the most charged part of the script and I was so darn excited for it. I’d played it over and over in my head even when I was just the choreographer. Now that I actually had the role? Well… it was a lot of pressure.

  But that was alright, because sometimes pressure was good, and I had this feeling in the pit of my stomach that I would absolutely rock it.

  There was a couple of minutes as everyone arranged themselves how we were supposed to be, with Mickey and I standing in the center of it all. There was a camera man with one of those crazy heavy-looking harnesses to steady the shot, and once more I was swamped with how crazy it was that I was in front of it as me, not a body double for one of the few plus sized actresses in Hollywood.

  Wild.

  Mickey and I squared up to each other, both sure to stand on our marks. This part was really easy compared to the rest. We just stared each other down with all that inner strength and barely contained rage that our characters were supposed to have, then scream/snarl at each other before getting into our actual fight.

  Yeah, that was definitely going to be the hard part.

  “Alright, for this shot I want profiles of both leads!” the director called. One of the PAs quickly scribbled that on the clapperboard then stood in front of the camera. She repeated what the director said then lifted and dropped the top of the white and black square before scurrying off camera.

  I took that as my cue and lifted my chin, staring right up into Mickey’s eyes. I tried to force myself to think of things like plundering his village, or raiding whatever McGuffin he had for gold, but instead my mind went to how it felt to be sitting in his lap, riding for my life as he brought me yet another orgasm.

  Oh no. This was not the time for that.

  I furrowed my brow and let my lips curl, bearing my teeth like the fearsome, Viking warrior I was being paid to portray. It helped that I could see the faintest wisps of blond hair escaping from the beautiful wig they’d put on me, but it wasn’t enough to get my mind out of the gutter.

  It certainly didn’t help that Mickey’s massive, barreled chest was heaving like some sort of berserker. Or maybe I had the same sort of effect on him as he had on me? That would certainly be flattering, to say the least.

  I felt myself flush deeper, body rushing hot at the man so close to me. I found myself leaning ever so slightly towards him, shoulders squared and daring him to try and take me, while his eyes never moved from me.

  The moment seemed to last forever, stretched out with tension and desire and all sorts of things that I wasn’t supposed to want. I could have gotten completely lost in it, but then the director was speaking into that damned megaphone of his.

  “And now the scream!”

  Mickey opened his mouth and roared at me, the fake beard they had on him rippling from the effort. I returned the loudest bellow I could, absolutely electrified, and we lunged for each other.

  “Perfect! Cut!” The director paused, watching the shot on one of the many screens set up beside him. “Yeah, that’s good. Let’s get over the shoulder from our male lead, then we’ll do over the shoulder female, then the tight close ups.”

  There was a flutter of activity as we proceeded to do just that, spending about a half an hour just staring at each other and screaming every once and a while. I had expected it to be awkward, after all, I had been to enough shoots to be familiar with how painstaking it could be to get all the angles, but it was anything but. I felt flushed with adrenaline, and more connected to Mickey than I had ever been.

  Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing that we had found each other. Sure, it hadn’t really happened how I would have liked, but sometimes life was like that. Maybe, once we got the annoying marriage business out of the way, we could be friends with benefits. Or just
really, really good friends. I realized that I missed what we used to have, and how much time I used to spend with both him and Michelle. Maybe it would be good for me to think about something other than work for once.

  Maybe. I needed to get through the shoot first, I supposed.

  After we finally finished all the shots with the two of us just standing there, there was a break. We went to grab some water, used the restroom and then had our make up touched up before we were right back in the field.

  But this time, it was for the fight.

  I gripped my sword anxiously, excited but worried. I couldn’t just be average, or even good. I knew I needed to be exemplary to prove to the producers that they hadn’t made a mistake. It wasn’t exactly fair, but I was used to it.

  Meanwhile Mickey was grinning at me like he couldn’t be happier. I did suppose that he was probably having a great time, filming and fighting and being pampered over by the crew. I didn’t mind though; he was a great scene partner and we just seemed to have a natural sort of rhythm.

  Maybe it was because we already knew each other’s bodies so well? The thought made me chew at my lip and make up yelled at me before coming over to fix it.

  Whoops.

  “Lead fight, wide shot, take one!” The PA cried, slamming the clapperboard again and then suddenly it was business time.

  Since we’d ended in a lunge, Mickey and I started by being pressed right up against each other. It made my heart race and my body thrum, but I just channeled that into my acting. That was what the professionals did, right? Calling on everything I was supposed to teach Amelia, I dove to the side, tucking myself into a roll and bringing my sword up over my shoulder to catch the downswing of his axe.

  To his credit, Mickey really sold the swing, his muscles rippling and another bellow punching from his throat. But there wasn’t any actual force behind it, almost all of it being just for show.