by Moore, M. K.
“I’m always hungry,” Mallory says, and I smile again. If there’s one thing I know about her, she is definitely always hungry.
“I could eat. It’s been a long night,” my mom says.
“Ooh, Judy. There is a cool diner on the way home. We should stop there. It doesn’t look like it from the outside, but they have the best eggs Florentine ever,” Mallory says happily.
I take her hand while my dad manages their suitcase and my mother’s hand. I lead everyone out of the airport and hail a taxi. Three pull up and I choose the closet one as it is the biggest. It’s a yellow minivan. Mallory and I climb into the third-row seat, with me closest to the door so I can stick my leg out once my parents climb into the middle, and we are off.
The diner is fifties style. My mom and Mallory sit on one side of the table together, so my dad and I take the opposite side of the table.
We order as soon as the waitress comes over to us, with coffees all around.
It’s not long until we are on our way back to the apartment.
“We aren’t going to that nice hotel you found, son?”
“No way. Family doesn’t stay at a crappy hotel,” Mallory says matter-of-factly.
“But dear, you are newlyweds. We don’t want to cramp your style.”
“Don’t worry about us, Judy. We can control ourselves. Besides,” she says as she shrugs, “each room in the apartment has been sound-proofed.” My parents burst out laughing as does the cabbie. When Mallory joins in, I give up and laugh along with them. When we pull up to the building, my dad whistles.
“This is very fancy,” my mom says.
“I guess it is, but it’s home, ” Mallory says sounding a bit defensive.
“Sorry dear, I am not judging you, please don’t think that. I just have never stayed in a place like this,” my mom says, trying to correct her snap judgment.
“No worries, people say stuff like that to me all the time. Sorry I got all growly about it,” she says as we climb out of the cab. She pulls my mom into a hug. As it’s barely eight in the morning, so we retreat to our rooms for some much-needed rest.
“Your parents are nice,” she says as she pulls off her boots. When I sit on the edge of the bed to do the same, she kneels and does it for me. She’s too damn good for me. I pull my shirt off over my head and stand shakily to remove my pants. “Let me,” she says, smiling.
“I love you, Mallory,” I say as she undoes my belt and slowly pulls my pants down my legs. Once they are gone, she expertly takes my prosthetic off and sets it by my nightstand. I like having it nearby, in case I need it in a hurry. She removes my guard and rubs my thigh.
“I love you too, Cap. Looks better this morning,” she says sleepily.
“You tired, Jez?” I ask, standing to get in bed.
“Exhausted, but I don’t know why.” She smirks at me before turning the overhead light off. It darkens the room, with just a bit of light coming from her side of the bed. She sheds her clothes as she comes back to the bed. My wife likes to sleep naked.
“I can’t imagine the reason, Jez.”
“I’ll bet,” she says, burying herself under the covers. “Do you need me or something?” she asks, looking up at me with her innocent looking eyes, but I know better.
“I’ll always need you, but I want to make sure Margo didn’t make you second guess this. Second guess us.”
“Fuck no, she didn’t, Malachi,” she says vehemently, sitting up. I am momentarily distracted by the sway of tits, but her long hair covers her nipples before I can get a real good look at them. “If anything, she made me want to prove her wrong. Tell me I can’t do something, and I will show you that I can a million times over. Do I know this is crazy? Yes. Do I also know that I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything or anyone else? Yes. I can’t help it if she is either too scared or too jaded to realize that. She’ll get over it and get on board or she won’t, but I won’t let her dictate my happiness,” she finishes, then she’s kissing me fiercely.
“Mallory,” I say ending the kiss.
“Yes?”
“Come here,” I say, rubbing her thigh. “Let me give us what we both need.”
She scoots over and sits on my lap. I can see how wet she is. I pull my boxers down, letting my cock spring free. She slides her pussy down my length until she is fully seated. She rides my cock until we both come. I then roll us, so she is on her back. I slide back into her and make slow love to her.
When she finally falls asleep, we are in a tangled heap. I lay awake stroking her hip. I am mesmerized by the softness of her skin. I never thought I could be so in love.
Everything that has ever happened in my life brought me to this exact moment.
The more that I am with her, the more I forget that I am not whole. The more I am with her, the easier it is for me to find my old self. And that is like a gift from God.
She’s a gift from God.
Chapter 9
Mallory
The holidays are finally over, and Judy and Bob are on their way to France to see Margo, whom I haven’t spoken with in over a week. I am feeling conflicted about that, but since she started it, she’ll have to end it. I know that I am being petty, but how dare she rain on my friggin’ parade. I am actually dying on the inside that I still don’t know who she slept with or if she’s happy, but this is where we are at and I honestly hate it.
I have two days before I have to be on set, and I plan on spending that time with my husband. Speaking of, my parents loved him, which was good because I don’t think that I could handle anyone else doubting us. We don’t do anything but lounge around the apartment. We discussed politics, which we have agreed to never do again. Not because we have different opinions, but because it was boring as hell. I am making some pasta when he comes in the kitchen.
“You hungry?” I ask.
“Starving. This smells delicious.”
“Thanks. It’ll be ready in about twenty minutes.”
“You know what we could do twice in twenty minutes?” he asks, making his eyebrows rise up lecherously.
“Twice? My, my, my aren’t we ambitious?”
“When it comes to you? Yes, I am.”
“Well, I am still a bit sore, so how about later I make it up to you?”
“I’ll hold you to that,” he says laughing. “You want some wine?” He turns looking for the wine, but comes up short.
“Sure. I don’t think I have an open bottle. They are in the winerator in the cabinet over there,” I say, pointing in the general direction of the cabinet on the opposite wall.
“There is a winerator?” he asks.
“Oh yeah. I don’t drink much wine. It’s Margo’s.” I stir my sauce vigorously.
“It’s gonna be okay baby,” he says when I don’t say anything for a while.
“I know,” I say, I am saved for another conversation about Margo when my oven timer goes off signally that the garlic bread is done.
The rest of our time together is lots of talking about our childhoods and lots of sex.
I’ve been having so much fun with Malachi, that I don’t won’t get out of bed to go to the set. I have Marissa with me. She is getting her exclusive, plus she is fun to hang out with. When we arrive at the studio, Lana rushes over to us.
“Oh my God, you’re Lana Blair,” Marissa gushes.
“I am. And you are?” Lana extends her hand which Marissa shakes after staring at it for a second before recovering.
“Marissa Gordon,” she answers.
“From Gesture? I loved your article on Lance Landon. You made him so swoon worthy.”
“Wow. You read that? Thank you,” Marissa says.
“Marissa is shadowing me for an exclusive interview. It’s going to last for all of filming.”
“That’s so cool. No one follows me,” Lana says pouting.
“I could do you both at the same time,” Marissa says.
When Lana and I burst out laughing, she turns every shade of re
d. “I mean, I could write two articles at the same time,” she corrects herself.
“We knew what you meant, but come on, that was freaking funny,” I say, trying to catch my breath. Marissa laughs too.
“God, that was mortifying,” Marissa finally says.
“Eh, don’t worry about it,” Lana says. “We’ve all been there. Now, I only have three scenes today. I should be done before lunch. Do you guys want to join me at The Acadia?”
“Sounds good to me,” I say. “Marissa?”
“Yeah, that sounds good to me too.”
When Lana walks back towards her dressing room, Marissa buries her face in her hands.
“What?” I ask.
“I made a fool out of myself,” she says.
“Nah, you should have seen her the other night. She's awkward, just like us.”
“If you say so,” she says.
“Come on, let’s get this over with,” I say, gripping her forearm as Chad waltzes over to us like he owns the place.
“Hey writer, when are we going to hook up? The studio set me up in a sweet apartment,” he brags. I have to physically keep myself in check in order to not throw up in my mouth. Yuck.
“That’s lovely, but I’m sure my husband wouldn’t like that very much, so I’ll have to decline,” I say, trying to move away from him. He grabs my arm and jerks me back to him. “Excuse me?” I whisper yell, wrenching my arm from him. “Keep your hands to yourself, Chad.”
“You don’t want to start off this way, writer. I can make or break you on this set.”
“Keep thinking that, Chad. Don’t touch me again and we will get along just fine.”
“We’ll see, writer,” he sneers. I bite back a laugh.
Marissa and I move away from him and towards other people.
“That guy is a freaking creep,” Marissa says.
“I know, believe me when I say he wasn’t my first choice. Unlike Lana. She was exactly who I imagined while I was writing Raven.”
“Really? That is awesome,” Marissa says.
“I thought so too,” I say.
I feel like I should say something to someone about Chad, but I honestly don’t think that anyone would believe me. He has a reputation around Hollywood, but without proof, nothing has been done about him.
Marissa and I sit down and watch the scene unfold before us. My excitement ratchets up a notch as it fully dawns on me that these are my words coming to life. Never in a million years did I think that I’d be doing something like this, but here I am. I hear a bell, which I’ve been told indicates the end of the scene filming, and Lana comes over to me.
“What did you think?” she asks excitedly.
“Oh my God, Lana. It was perfect. Just how I imagined that scene.” It was the scene in Ryan’s Kiss when Ryan first meets Raven waiting outside of the club Ryan owns. Even I must admit Chad did a good job, but he’s still not the type of actor I imagined would be playing Ryan. She jumps up and down, hugging me.
With the first three scenes in the can, the director calls a hiatus for principal photography to set up in the Catskills, where filming will pick up in three weeks’ time. I have no idea why they set the schedule they have, but whatever.
Marissa and I wait while Lana changes from her glittery club dress costume back to her normal clothes.
Chad leers at me while we wait, and I shiver. He looks evil. His eyes are dark and lecherous but thankfully Lana emerges from her dressing room and the three of us exit through the side door and head out to the parking lot where Lana’s driver is waiting.
“Let’s ride together,” she says. “This is Stan. He’s my driver and my bodyguard.”
“Hey Stan. I’m Mallory and this is Marissa,” I say, climbing in the car behind Lana.
“Nice to meet you ladies. Where to, Ms. Blair?” Stan asks after climbing into the driver's seat.
“The Acadia,” Lana answers.
“Very well. Since it is already four, traffic has us about forty-five minutes away,” he says. We start driving, and the girls and I chat a bit.
“So, Chad creeps me out. You wouldn’t believe the things his last co-star Jennifer Rains said about him,” Lana says. I am not one for gossip, but something tells me that I want to hear this. I have a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. It feels like dread but ten times worse.
“What did she say?” Marissa asks.
“Off the record?” Lana replies.
“Of course.”
Lana nods. “She said that he tried to drug her champagne, but she just holds drinks for show. She has a strict no-alcohol rule. He got mad when she didn’t fall asleep. She told her manager who then told her to forget about it if she ever wanted to work in Hollywood again. I mean, can you believe the balls on him?” I just nod, pulling my shirt sleeve down more to cover the bruises Chad gave me earlier. Marissa grabs and squeezes my hand, I squeeze hers in return. Yep, lots of dread.
Over lunch we discuss upcoming scenes and Marissa begins her interview process for the both of us.
After a quick trip to Saks Fifth Avenue, Lana drops me off at my place as she and Marissa leave to get ready to go out for drinks.
By the time I make it upstairs, it is almost seven. I don’t see Malachi until I head to the office, where he’s diligently working away. He’s on his computer just as much as I am. From the doorway, I watch him before going into the bedroom and changing into some of my tiny shorts and a tank top. I have edits to go through, so I grab my laptop off my nightstand and go to my desk in the office.
“Hey Jez, how did things go today?” he asks without looking up.
“Good. I missed you,” I say, setting my laptop on my desk and walking over to him. He scoots his chair back from his desk and I plop unceremoniously onto his lap.
“I missed you too,” he says, kissing me. “What do you want to do for dinner?” he asks.
“Chinese sound good to you?” I ask.
“Yes. What happened to your arm?” he asks.
Shit. I forgot all about the bruise which looks more pronounced now than it did before. I don’t want to lie to him, but I also don’t want to tell him the truth. So, I settle for a version of the truth.
“Just a little incident on set,” I say, distracting him with a kiss. I feel his hard cock poking my ass and I think my job is done here. “I’ll order dinner. What do you want?”
“Moo Goo Gai pan and some beef and broccoli.”
“Ooh, that sounds good,” I say, hopping off his lap and going to my own desk. He has so much equipment that I can’t even see him from my desk. I breathe a sigh of relief. I just hope that little fib doesn’t come back to bite me in the ass.
Later, we eat dinner in front of the TV and then he goes to bed early. I try not to read too much into the fact that this is the first night we haven’t had sex since we got together. I know romance novels have given me unrealistic expectations about having sex every day, but still, I’ve come to crave him. When I get to bed, he pulls me closer and I snuggle into him. This is just as nice, but sometime in the middle of the night, he pulls my shorts from my body and sinks inside of me. No words are spoken and the only sounds in the room are my soft moans and his grunts. When he pulls out of me, he tucks me into his chest.
“Mallory,” he says gruffly. He just said my actual name, so I know this is going to be serious.
“Yes, Malachi?” I whisper.
“Don’t lie to me again. I don’t know why you did, only that you did. I know bruises. I know those are fingertips wrapped around your delicate arm. They didn’t come from me loving you. Tell me what really happened,” he demands quietly. I swallow hard.
“I can’t. I handled it,” I mutter.
“You’ll tell me now. I am sure that you handled it, but I must know in case something like this happens again.” I shiver before nodding, my face buried in his chest. His demanding voice makes me want to tell him every damn thing I’ve ever done wrong.
“Chad Beesley propositioned me. I,
of course, turned his ass down, but he didn’t much like that. He grabbed me to get my attention, and he kind of threatened me. Marissa was there but nothing more than that happened,” I say. I am not sure why, but tears fill my eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me you were mad at me?”
“I wanted to get my bearings straight. I didn’t want to go off half-cocked.”
I nod, and he pulls my chin up to kiss me.
“I’m sorry.”
“Me too.”
“Was this our first fight?” I ask.
“I think so,” he says. I can feel his smile on my forehead.
“That wasn’t terrible,” I say, laughing.
“No, it wasn’t Jezebel. No, it wasn’t, but my number one job is to protect you and that I will do every single time.”
The next morning, I wake up in his arms. A brand-new story idea comes to my mind and I steal out of bed and into the office. By the time he comes in with two steaming cups of coffee, I have an entire outline and the first three chapters done. This is the most I’ve written since I met him. Though, he alone can’t be blamed for my lack of productivity. I have lost focus on the words, because I am obsessed with my husband. I also have no one to talk to about my stories.
Margo is not only gone, but I’ve not spoken to her. Gwen has a happy new life, I just don’t think she has time for me anymore and, trust me, I get that. Besides, if there is anyone who deserves happiness, it’s her. She went through hell and back. Maybe I can bounce my story ideas off of Marissa, but that feels like I’m cheating on Margo, somehow. Though I am mad at her, she is still my best friend.
“You need a bodyguard,” Malachi says, jarring me from my thoughts.
“What was that?” I ask.
“You need a bodyguard. I know just the guy,” he replies. Okay, so I didn’t misunderstand him.
“Um, babe. That won’t be necessary.”
“It’s absolutely necessary. Someone put their hands on you. I wasn’t there to protect you, not that I could do a lot.” I roll my eyes.
“It was a one-time thing,” I say.
“I couldn’t sleep last night. I did some research on Chad. Mallory, there are a lot of unfounded rumors about him, but there are also several women who refused to press charges, though they had proof. You can’t be too careful. I refuse to let something happen to you when I can easily prevent it.”