“Good morning, beautiful. I was hoping you would be awake before I left.” He sits down on the side of the bed and kisses me full on the lips.
“Where are you going?” I ask, trying to hide the disappointment I feel at not spending the day with him.
“There was a re-cast and the director wants me to come in and read some lines with the new actor they hired.” He brings down the sheet that I have over my body to play with my nipple. “I should hopefully be back before dinner. I think you should stay here, relax by the pool, and when I get back, we can go get a bite and maybe a show?”
His caresses cloud my ability to think. “I, uh, don’t have a swimsuit here,” and I smack his hand away so I can concentrate. He laughs and retaliates by playing with the other nipple.
“My pool is private - I think you should just go naked,” he whispers, as he leans down and takes my nipple in his mouth. He alternates between sucking and lashing with his tongue, the combination making me moan out loud. He leaves my nipple, makes a kissing trail across my breast to the other nipple, which he then takes inside his mouth for some attention. I arch my back, and place my hands in his hair to try to bring him closer. My legs open and I try to maneuver him in between them for me to wrap around, but he doesn’t move and instead, releases my nipple.
“Think of me today, Jenna, and know that I absolutely plan on continuing where we are leaving off tonight.” He gives me one last kiss and stands up to head out the door.
“You’re blue balling me right now?” I look at him incredulously, my voice a higher octane than normal due to the frustrated state he is leaving me in.
He laughs at my choice of words, “I think I’m the one left in that state,” and winces while looking down at the big bulge straining against his pants. I have some small satisfaction at seeing he is suffering too. Serves him right since he started it.
“Wait,” so distracted am I by the sight of him that I place my hand on my forehead to recall my thoughts, “I need to grab some items from my room. How can I get back in?”
“Steven has an extra key for you to come and go as you please from now on.” He glances down as his phone beeps. “I’m sorry, but I must go. Breakfast is waiting for you, and I look forward to seeing you later,” and with that, he heads out of the bedroom and shuts the door.
I fall back against the pillow and let out a slow exhale. While I would love to lay around all day and go skinny dipping in his pool, the thought of only Steven and myself being around makes me slightly uncomfortable. Sunbathing was not part of my original plan, but it does sound tempting. Trying to decide what store I would shop in for a suit, I get out of bed, get dressed and head to the dining room.
“Good Morning, Ms. Pruitt, what would you like for breakfast today?” Steven gestures to the array of food that can feed ten people. I make my selection and he brings me water and coffee. I unfold the napkin from the silverware and as I place it on my lap, I am suddenly very conscious about being in my clothes from the previous evening. I can only imagine what Steven thinks of me. I pick at my food with my fork, my appetite decreasing with every thought of the picture I am presenting of myself. Does he think I am a whore? Why do I care? I haven’t done anything wrong. I am a strong, independent woman! Wanting to distance myself, I tell Steven I will be back later and leave the table, my food barely touched. I go to collect my purse and notice the extra key laying by it. I hesitate about taking it, but wanting to see Cal wins out and I stuff it in my purse.
“Ms. Pruitt, a car is waiting to take you back to the main lobby,” Steven says, as he races to open the door for me before I get to it.
“I am sorry, Steven, but I prefer to walk. Can you cancel it?” I ask, as I have no desire to do the walk a shame through the main lobby for the second time. He insists on walking me back to my room and I decline, bidding him a good day and make my way through the Atrium to the door that leads into the main part of the hotel. By the time I get to the elevators that lead to my room, my feet are screaming at me for declining the car, while my head decides to beat the pride right out of my heart. Layla and Robert would be my biggest cheerleaders for what I have been up to these last couple of days. Why all of a sudden do I feel so guilty? I never judge Layla on her many escapades, so why am I judging myself? I try to think about the root of what is really making me feel this way when I feel my phone vibrate and look down to see three missed calls and five text messages from Robert. I let myself into my room, start up my laptop to talk business, and call him back.
“Hi, what’s wrong?” I nervously grip the phone, waiting for bad news as to why he would call and text me so much.
“What’s wrong is that I haven’t heard from you in almost two days! I was about to call the cops! Where have you been?” I grimace at his tone of voice. It is never fun to be on the receiving end of an angry Robert Jordan.
“I’m sorry, Robert, for worrying you. I didn’t realize I missed your calls and texts. I’ve been, uh, distracted.” I am so not ready to have this conversation with him yet.
“Distracted? By what or should I ask, whom? You owe me details and it better be juicy and scandalous,” he huffs into the phone.
“Oh, you know, distracted by Las Vegas.” I roll my eyes at my pathetic answer as I try to stall to think of some other story to tell him, but I can’t because I hate to lie and when I try to tell an innocent one, I always get called out. Nothing good every comes from lying, even from the small little ones.
“No Jenna, I don’t KNOW what it is like to be distracted by Las Vegas, because SOMEONE didn’t fucking take me with her! Furthermore, not only was I frazzled with not hearing from you, but I was also not prepared to have to deal with the wrath of Pamela, who has called me a gazillion times asking why you didn’t call her when you landed!” His reference to my mother makes me giggle as I wouldn’t want to be left to deal with her either. “You owe me two whole days of spa treatments for dealing with that shit storm.”
“Again, I apologize, Robert, and will make sure to book you two spa days. Will you forgive me?” I use my soothing tone of voice on him while jotting down a note for some spa days for both of us.
“I will forgive you once you tell me the real reason why you haven’t been glued to your phone or laptop to miss my very important calls. You are NEVER distracted.” He is right, unfortunately.
“Well, I went to the Grand Canyon and that took up most of my day ,and then came back and went out to dinner.” I purposely sound as vague as I possibly can.
“Who were you with?” he asks, suspicion lacing his voice.
“People.”
“How many people?”
“Three.” I quickly count the pilot, the tour guide and Cal as my three-other people.
“People from the conference or new people?”
“New people…?” I drift off, unsure how to answer it. Knowing that my uncertainty of an answer will further convince him that I am lying, I am going to have to give him something more in order to stop the line of questioning. “Okay, fine. One new person. Are you happy now?”
“HA! I KNEW IT!” he exclaims excitedly “Who is he and you better be slapping some skin with him.”
“No skin slapping and why are you assuming it is a he? What if it is a she?” I challenge him on being presumptuous.
“Oh please, you’re as straight as an arrow and wouldn’t touch another girl in a sexual way if you two were the last species on earth,” he laughs.
“That is not true, I think women are beautiful and if I was horny enough, I would so have sex with a woman…if we were the last two species on earth.” I shake my head as I just confirmed his statement. I need to change this subject fast. “Enough of this, I just gave you the truth. Forgive me and let’s move on.”
He continues to laugh and starts to tsk me. “Oh Jenna, you are not forgiven, because you tried to lie to me and have still left out the pertinent details, like his looks and his penis size. I will let this information slide for today since it is impera
tive we talk business, but tomorrow is a new day and if you want my forgiveness, then you need to give up some dirt.” I accept his reprieve and immediately switch gears to business in order to avoid any conversation about Cal.
I spend the rest of my day doing work by answering emails, writing articles and content for our blog, and preparing for the first day of the conference by ironing my clothes and hanging them up, along with picking out my jewelry and shoes. I set my alarm on my phone to make sure I am up early tomorrow to not be rushed, and have plenty of time in the morning to get myself ready both mentally and physically. Feeling good with all the tasks I completed, I decide to get a workout in and head down to the hotel gym. It’s packed with good looking women and muscular, handsome men. I hop on the elliptical machine, stick my headphones in my ear, and ignore everyone for an hour. Once that hour was up, it’s time to head upstairs to my room to get ready for the evening. I get in the shower and scrub my body well, making sure I smell good in all the right places. Once done, I wrap my hair and body in towels and start to pick out my attire for the evening. With Cal mentioning dinner and a show, I decide upon a royal blue wrap dress whose fabric clings so tightly to my body that I question whether I can even wear undergarments. I try the dress on and the doubt that I had earlier reappears. It isn’t that I am unhappy with how I look, but I start to question why I am putting in so much effort to make sure I look sexy enough for a man I just met to want to sleep with me? And why do I feel guilty for wanting to sleep with him already? Then the realization hits me. It is because even after my first make out session with my ex-husband, I wouldn’t sleep with him right away. But yet, here I am, ready to sleep with Cal. I thought our sexual chemistry was the best I had, but there is no comparison as to the feelings I am experiencing with Cal. I worked and was friends with my ex, so of course I wanted our relationship to be more than just sex, as there was more to lose. With Cal, I never expect to hear or see from him again. I have never known that feeling of addiction, but the only drug I am addicted to right now is Cal Harrington’s mouth. He has awakened feelings that have been buried since my ex walked out the door. I need to feel again and if having sex with Cal evokes those feelings, then I’m ready and willing. With this acceptance, I squash any residual guilt and continue to get ready.
Thirty minutes later, I leave and make my way to Cal’s. Pulling out the key he gave me, I let myself into the VIP door and walk through the Atrium to his villa. I hesitate before using the key on his door, not knowing if I should knock or not. I decide to knock first and then let myself in. I faintly hear music playing, so I follow the tune into the movie room only to find it empty, credits rolling on the screen from the movie that was just playing. I go back to the living room and look out the window at the pool. Not finding Cal outside, I turn to head to the master bedroom and jump at the site of him standing in the hallway, watching me.
“That’s the second time you’ve done that to me!” I exclaim, my heart racing from the scare. It continues to beat faster at the site of Cal, wet from a shower and only wrapped in a towel. He stalks toward me, his eyes raking over me from head to toe. My breath catches as my eyes roam from his chest that has a small amount of hair on it, down his defined six pack, to the v’s at his side that disappear under his towel. I watch a single drop of water slide down his stomach into the towel and I gulp, wishing I could have licked that off of him. I look back up at his face, hypnotized by the desire in his eyes.
“This dress,” he admires, and places his index finger on my sternum and caresses down towards the skin between my breasts.
“You’re all wet,” I choke out, his finger sending mini shock waves with each touch.
“And you will be too later.” He traces his finger back up my chest, lifts my chin with it and sears me with a kiss. He pulls away, gives me a wicked smile and turns to walk away. “I will be right back. Make yourself at home.” I just stand there and blink while I watch his muscular back retreat to his bedroom to get dressed. I shake my head, not knowing how I am going to survive dinner if he keeps looking at me that way. I decide a drink is in order to help calm my nerves. I pour myself a vodka tonic with a lime and settle on the couch, playing on my phone while I wait. He doesn’t keep me waiting long as he appears five minutes later, looking gorgeous in a long sleeve royal blue shirt, black dress pants with black shoes.
“Let’s be cheesy and wear matching outfits!” He claps his hand together, like it’s a grand scheme in a master plan. I laugh at him, thoroughly enjoying seeing his goofy side. He goes to the bar, pours himself a scotch on the rocks, and sits down on the couch with me. “Do you believe in magic, Jenna? Because that it what we are toasting to tonight.” He clinks his glass to mine and takes a sip.
“Magic?” I raise my eyebrows at him in question.
“We are going to have a magical dinner, then go see the greatest illusionist in the world. And after that, we are going to make some magic of our own,” the corniness of his joke makes me shake my head with laughter. He checks his watch and puts down his drink. “We must get going if we are going to eat before the show.” He stands up and holds his hand out to me. I accept it and he immediately pulls me up into his chest and claims my lips. His lips demand I open for him, which I obey immediately and become completely lost in the kiss. I grip the back of his shirt tighter, trying to get as close as I can for more. He slowly pulls his lips away, but keeps his forehead touching mine, his eyes closed as he tries to gain his composure back. I can’t help but stare at him and watch his process as I stand there, panting, not looking composed whatsoever.
“Let’s go!” he smiles, and with that, we head to dinner.
9
True to his word, dinner is pretty magical. Cal made reservations at the steakhouse in the hotel. We are escorted to a table well hidden in the back of the restaurant, which makes me feel more at ease, my uncomfortableness coming from all the eyes who are staring at us when we arrive. We are seated and immediately order drinks and food. As we go through the details of our day, I do not lose sight of the fact that our worlds are so completely different.
“Do you get nervous with your job?” I ask after he describes how his table read went with the new actor. I don’t think I could handle the pressure of being an actress. Always being watched, always being scrutinized, always having to look a certain way. How can that not mess with your psyche?
“When I first started out, auditioning was pretty daunting. Now I would say that the sex scenes make me nervous,” he laughs at my surprised expression. “The actual sex scene is so far removed from being intimate due to the amount of people that are around watching you. You are being told how to pretend to have sex. Then you worry about if your breath smells, if you are covered in the right places, if you are being respectful to the actress or even if you are looking like you have sexual chemistry with this person. There is nothing natural about it at all.”
“How do you not get turned on by the kissing and um, dry humping?” I blush a little at the visual of how I might have looked trying to dry hump Cal this morning.
“Absolutely we get turned on!” He leans in and puts his forearms on the table “While the scenes make me nervous, I would be completely lying if I didn’t say they weren’t fun. So many actors complain about how horrible those scenes are - that is complete bullshit. They say that so they don’t get in trouble with their partners. If they truly wanted to be respectful to their partners, they would do movies without sex scenes or ask for script changes for the scene to be just kissing with the scene fading out, alluding that they are going to have sex.” His honesty is refreshing as I would never have thought that the actor could even ask for the scene to be re-written.
“Are you nervous for tomorrow?” He changes the subject as our waiter brings our food.
“A little,” I pause. “Normally I get more nervous the day of. I’m confident with the content of my speech, it’s just making sure my delivery is effective and meaningful.”
“I’m sure you
are going to be brilliant. Maybe I’ll come and watch you,” he smiles, as he chews his food.
“Perfect idea as I wouldn’t be nervous knowing all eyes will be on you instead of me.” I cannot even imagine the chaos he would cause amongst the hundreds of women who will be there. “Seriously, you would be a huge distraction, so it’s probably best if you don’t show up.”
“I don’t even know if I can, anyway. I have an appointment with wardrobe and I’m not sure what time that is yet.” He takes out his phone and starts to text. “Honestly, though, I really would like to see you speak.”
“Usually the conference records the keynote speakers. Maybe I can get a copy of it, if you really want to see it, but don’t expect me to watch it with you.” I shake my head at the thought, knowing I would be truly embarrassed at watching myself, especially with Cal.
“I don’t like watching myself either. I made the mistake of doing it once and will never do it again.” He finishes his text and puts his phone away.
“You mean to tell me you don’t watch your own TV shows or movies?” I ask skeptically, not really believing what I’m hearing. How can actors not watch their own work to see where they need improvement?
He shakes his head. “No, I don’t. This is how I see it - I work hard on my craft, I take care of my body, I show up early on set, I make sure I know all of my lines. I don’t waste people’s time. I am respectful to everyone who deserves my respect. I know I’m good looking, but I take pride in my work ethic and it shows. And that’s why I’m being offered parts. There’s no need to watch my work if I know at the end of the day, I’ve given it my all.” His confidence is such a turn on that I have to cross my legs to help squash the pulsing in between them.
Heartbreak Warfare (Let Me In Book 1) Page 7
