by Jillian Dodd
He takes my hand and helps me to my feet. "I'll grab our drinks," he says. "You choose the spot."
I pick out two chaises with a small table set between them. It's perfect for our drinks and my need for a little separation.
This is business.
I look down at my skimpy red bikini and know that I have no intention of keeping things strictly business with Dawson Johnson.
I finish my drink as he lies back and takes his first sip. "What a gorgeous day. It's starting to get chilly enough at home to wear a jacket."
"You're still tan," I say, because how can I not notice how perfectly bronzed his skin is?
"Our family spends most of the summer in the Hamptons. Do you want to get in?"
"The water?"
"Yeah." He stands up and takes my hand. And even though I really don't want to, I get in the pool with him. Sort of. I sit on a step, being careful not to let the ends of my hair touch the water. I don't want my blowout to get frizzy.
Dawson dives in and swims the length of the pool. When he comes up out of the water, he looks just like one of my favorite men's cologne ads. The model in it is dark, his hair slicked back off his face, and his eyes are amazing. I realize now, that's why I've always been drawn to it. The model looks like Dawson.
He grabs my waist and pulls me into the water with him. "You're not one of those girls who doesn't want to get her hair wet, are you?"
"Of course not," I lie. "I love to swim."
And right now, I do love it. Dawson has walked us out to where it's too deep for me to touch. His big hands are holding my waist and I'm clinging to his muscular arms.
"Not a bad way to spend a day at work," he says, reminding me again that this is supposed to be business.
"It doesn't really feel like work." I wrap my arms around his neck and look up at him.
Our eyes meet again. He looks at my mouth and runs the pad of his thumb slowly across my bottom lip. "Do you remember our kiss?"
"Kiss?" I laugh. "I'm pretty sure we made out."
"Yeah, but do you remember it? How it felt?"
"Maybe you should remind me," I flirt.
"No, I'm asking if you remember it. Because I do. It was, hands down, the best kiss of my life."
My heart stops. My throat goes dry. "Really?"
"Really. Do you think we could top it, now that we're older?" he asks, sliding his hand under my chin to lift it toward him.
"I don't know. Yes. Maybe," I say breathlessly, waiting for his lips to close the small gap between us.
But he doesn't. He leans back a little and says, "Hmm. Well, once you decide, let me know."
Is he fucking kidding me?
Dawson is a total panty tease.
Or bikini tease, in this case.
He is like his brother.
No, he's not like Riley. Riley would have taken off his shirt, ordered shots, and had his choice of women. And he wouldn't get them all hot and bothered and not follow through.
"Mr. Johnson," our server says, "your lunch is served."
Dawson grins at me. "I'm starved."
I reluctantly let go of him and get out of the pool.
Because I can handle a challenge.
And my new challenge is named Dawson Johnson.
News flash, people . . .
Our favorite starlet, Keatyn Douglas is ENGAGED!
And NOT to her Trinity costar and longtime lover, Knox Daniels.
On one hand, we're sad they aren't going to be together. On the other hand, that delicious man is still very single, based on this photo of him sandwiched between twin pairs of boobs at one of his favorite night clubs.
Rumor has it, he and Captive Films CEO, Riley Johnson, who should definitely be in front of the camera and not behind it, have been seen partying their nights away.
Back to the matter at hand, the official statement:
Keatyn Douglas and her longtime beau Aiden Arrington, owner of Asher Vineyards and Winery, the brand best known for their charitable Moon Wish wine, were engaged in Paris after the worldwide premiere of the hit trilogy, The Keatyn Chronicles, based on their life.
Our sources tell us that, much like the movie which started a trend of top of the Eiffel Tower sunset proposals, the two were engaged at the top of the Eiffel Tower at sunset. (Yawn.)
Anywho, we're told the couple is planning a spring wedding in--you guessed it--Paris.
P.S. We're not holding our breath for this wedding to actually take place. Not when Knox is single and the two are shooting their raciest love scenes to date. Some even wonder if this "engagement" is an old friend trying to help Keatyn and Knox get back together.
P.P.S. Speaking of Riley Johnson, I'd like to get under him on a casting couch, if you know what I mean. Wink wink.
Wednesday, October 1st
Jennifer's beach house - Malibu
RILEY
Jennifer is out of breath when she answers the door.
And she's topless.
Nice.
"You're finally here!" she says, sweeping me into a hug. "Come out back. Some friends stopped by."
Friends?
"I thought we were hanging out."
She stops, turns around on her tiptoes, and kisses me. "We're leaving. They'll probably stay for a while. Do you want to swim first? Need a drink?"
"How about both?"
I follow her to the refrigerator. She opens it and lets me grab my only option, Bud Light in a can. I honestly can't remember the last time I drank beer out of can.
I grab one, open it, and gulp down a flavor that reminds me of college.
Jennifer introduces me to three of her girlfriends, who are also sunbathing topless, and a couple guys in the corner who are smoking a fat joint. The way Jennifer is bouncing around, my guess is she hasn't partaken.
She yells, "Cannonball!" and flies into the pool, splashing her sunbathing friends.
"Ahh!" they all yell when she comes up laughing.
I decide what the hell and do a cannonball too, knowing my splash will totally drench them.
When I come up, Jennifer is right next to me, laughing at her screaming friends, who have run into the house.
"That was AWESOME!" She pushes me against the side of the pool and kisses me hard, murmuring, "And one way to get rid of them."
I wrap my arms around her, enjoying the excitement of kissing someone new, particularly someone new and half naked. Jennifer and I didn't do much last night. We just made out.
It was refreshing.
And I realize I miss the companionship. Just being able to hang out with someone without worrying I'm giving them the wrong impression.
Like Shelby. She called me on the way here and wanted to know why I hadn't called. I told her I didn't want to see her anymore. She asked if the article she saw about me and Jennifer was true then had a little meltdown.
Actually, meltdown is a bit of an understatement.
She called me every name in the book. A few I've never been called before.
Then, thankfully, she hung up on me.
One less thing to worry about.
Especially now when Jennifer's lips are on mine.
I float us out to the middle of the pool, wrapping her legs around me, still kissing her.
"Dude, they're totally going to do it," I hear from behind us.
Jennifer must have heard them too, because she stops kissing me. "We aren't going to do it. Grow up. We're just kissing. And I changed my mind. Get the hell out of my house."
She gets out of the pool as they grab their things. She locks the door behind them then sits on the edge of the pool, dangling her long legs in the water. I'm ready to pull her back in with me and kiss her boobs. They are on the smaller side. Most girls would want bigger ones, but she'd be a fool. They are cute and perky.
And her nipples are the prettiest pale pink color.
I want one in my mouth.
Now.
"So, sexy, I have some plans for us today."
"Wh
at kind of plans. Besides us not doing it?"
She laughs loudly. "Oh gosh, did I crush that monumentally big ego of yours?"
"I think you heard the gossip wrong. They were talking about my monumentally big dick."
She giggles and blushes. Although she curses like a sailor, I realize I've never heard her use words like that referring to sex.
"You're funny. I like it," she says.
This girl is going to need the hard sell. And by hard, for once, I'm not talking about my dick.
I hop out of the pool, immediately choosing to follow her lead. "I haven't had lunch yet. Is it included in your plans?"
"Yes, I'm starving! Let's go across the street. Have you ever had their Mahi tacos?"
"I have. They also have the best martinis in town."
She grabs a string bikini top off a chaise and holds it up in front of her chest. "Will you tie this for me?"
"Sure." I glide my hand across her soft, bronzed shoulder. "You're beautiful," I whisper.
"Are you putting the moves on me? You're the big shot movie producer, shouldn't I be trying to sleep with you?"
"You slept with me last night," I tease as I slowly touch her back, while tying the bottom string. "This too tight?"
"No, it's perfect. Riley, I don't date people I work with. And I'd never have sex with someone to get a role."
"Hold your hair up," I tell her, as I tie the string around her neck. Then I turn her around to face me. "I don't date anyone I work with either. And, although I may have a well-deserved reputation for sleeping around, I've never hired someone I've slept with."
She smooshes up her nose. "Really?"
"Really," I state, kissing it.
"You're too cute," she says, causing my frozen heart to melt a little. She grabs my hand and leads me out the door. The lust I wish she felt for me fills her eyes when she sees my car again. She pretends to pet it although, thankfully, her hand never touches the paint.
"Oh, baby, I've missed you," she says to my car.
I lean her against the side of the car, wanting nothing more right now than to forget about the paint and do her on the hood. This girl has my blood running hot. Probably, because she acts like she's not interested.
The last time I wasn't sure a girl wasn't interested in me was . . .
Shit.
I shake my head. I'm not thinking about Ariela today.
I give Jennifer a rough kiss. She grabs my neck and shoves her tongue in my mouth like Ariela did at Keatyn's.
Fuck!
Stop. Fucking. Thinking. About. Her!
I kiss Jennifer back, using my skillful tongue, but trying to play it cool. I even stop the kiss before she's ready for it to end. When I pull my lips away, it takes her a few moments to open her eyes and look at me.
"Damn," she says. "You might cause me to rethink my rules."
"I've already been rethinking mine. In fact, if you sign a contract to do Daddy's Angel, I'll let you drive my car. No girl has ever driven her."
"Oh, now you're just fucking with me," she laughs, grabs my hand, and leads me toward the restaurant.
After the short walk there, we make ourselves comfortable in the bar and order drinks and lunch.
She crosses her arms and narrows her eyes at me. "Are you serious?"
"About which part?"
"The car part, silly."
"You mean, you really don't want to sleep with me?"
"I haven't decided yet. Look, I know I'm kinda crazy. A little wild. But I love life. I'm having a blast. I'm making amazing money doing something I love. But that doesn't mean I sleep around."
"You kissed every man standing at the last Academy Awards afterparty."
"Yeah, because I fucking won. I still can't fucking believe that. I was drunk, happy, and high on life. I'm affectionate. I kissed some girls too, by the way."
"Do you remember kissing me?"
"I kissed you?"
"Yep. Right in front of my mother. Tongue and everything."
She covers her face with her hand. "Oh shit. I'm so embarrassed."
I smirk, but try to hide it by taking a drink.
"Aww, you're fucking with me again." She shakes a finger at me. "Riley Johnson, what am I going to do with you? Tell me the truth. Did I kiss you?"
"Yes."
"Was your mother there?"
"No."
"You're bad. Good thing. I wouldn't want to have to be embarrassed when I meet her."
"You're planning to meet my mother?"
"Sure, I'll drive your car there."
"My parents live in the Hamptons."
"Shit! That's awesome. That'd be so fun. Let's do it!"
"Wait. Do what?"
"Drive your car there. Road trip!"
"It'd kill the car's value if I put too many miles on it."
"Oh, come on, Riley. It will be fun. That's how we'll celebrate. We'll go tomorrow morning to talk to Keatyn about the role. You can bring your attorneys or whatever and I'll sign. My agent will kill me because I won't ask for enough money, but if the show does well, you'll promise to pay me more for the next season."
"If only all contracts were that easy," I laugh, knowing how Dallas goes over every minute detail to protect us.
"It can be for this. Seriously, Riley, when's the last time you had a vacation?"
"I visited my family this summer."
She looks up at the ceiling and bites her lip, trying to come up with a different excuse to talk me into it.
"I'll tell you what," I say. "If we have a done deal by Friday, we'll go somewhere to celebrate."
She gives me a broad smile, leans across the table, grabs my shirt, and kisses me.
Bar Marmont - Hollywood
DAWSON
We swam, drank, freshened up, and now we're finishing dinner. Vanessa is wearing what might be the sexiest dress I have ever seen. It has a halter neck, barely covers the sides of her breasts, and is backless. The skirt flows around her curves.
She obviously isn't wearing a bra and I have to purposely not look down, so I don't look like a middle school boy who's hoping to get a peek of her boob.
I shouldn't be thinking any of this.
I came here for a new beginning. A new job. The last thing I need to do is drag down a smart, beautiful woman like her. I overheard my aunt tell someone that it would be hard for me to find someone new to love. That I have too much baggage.
And she's probably right.
Two little girls, who are staying with my parents so they can keep going to their school, while I figure out if this will work. If I should move them to California and take them away from everyone they know.
On the plus side, it will mean not having to deal with Whitney's family.
They never treated her well when she was here. It kills me when they pretend to miss her now that she's gone.
And I don't want them to influence my daughters.
I haven't had an inkling of a desire to date anyone or sleep with anyone since it happened.
My oldest brother, Camden, even resorted to taking me to Atlantic City and trying to buy me a couple hookers.
A fresh start in California means working with Keatyn and Riley, sunshine all the time, and getting away from all the reminders of Whitney.
Never once in the last month, while I contemplated Keatyn's offer, did I think I would come out here and want to be with a woman again.
Especially not on my first day.
But I do.
And I feel both incredibly relieved and incredibly guilty.
Vanessa sets her champagne down and licks her bottom lip.
And I'm jealous of her tongue.
I try not to stare, but I can't help it.
We've been flirting all night.
Yes, I've been flirting with her.
Although, she probably thinks I'm bipolar. I know I'm giving off all sorts of mixed messages.
Camden drove me to the airport, slapped me on the back, handed me a bag full of condoms and told
me to use them.
I threw them in the first trashcan I walked by.
That wasn't even on my radar.
But, now, my radar is being jammed by a gorgeous, stealth temptress in a shimmering black dress, whose red lips I'm dying to kiss.
She leans in closer, resting her chin on her palm, and purrs, "It's getting noisy in here. Why don't we take our champagne back to our room so we can discuss your ideas further?"
"Sounds great," I say, wondering what the hell I've been saying. Oh yeah, something about the all-American designer I used to work for who I think would make a great marketing sponsor for Daddy's Angel.
I put my hand across the small of her back, guiding her out of the room, and based on the male eyes following us, I'm hoping I don't have to get in a fight to do it.
A fight.
Would I fight to go back to the room with her?
Hell yeah.
Maybe it's because we just met and have a million things to talk about but I don't think we'll ever run out of things to say. She's stimulating both my mind and my cock in ways I haven't felt since . . .
Since that night we met. We talked for hours. Danced for hours. Made out for hours.
Then, I went home.
I thought about her a lot my freshman year in college.
Jake Worth, my roommate at NYU, and I certainly fucked our fair share of coeds.
But none of them wanted to talk. They were just horny. And that was fine, for a while.
I realize now, looking back, that Whitney and I weren't well suited. My brothers urged me not to marry her when she got pregnant. We weren't dating seriously at the time.
It was an accident.
And I wouldn't change it for anything. My daughter, Ava, is the light of my life and we went on to have another beautiful baby girl, Harlow, a few years later.
I haven't told Vanessa about my baggage. I haven't told her that my wife hated life so much that she killed herself.
It's not really something you want to blurt out when fate hands you a gift.
I'm still trying to figure out if I should make a move as we enter the room. The bed is turned back, soft music is playing, and the lights from the pool are shimmering outside.
Vanessa sets the champagne bottle down, saunters toward me, and grabs my tie, pulling me closer.
"The answer is yes," she says softly. "I think we could top it. I think if we kiss now, it will be better than our first kiss."