by Dede Craig
Three Kisses of Lust
Gia Carelli is a straightlaced A-list actress, who finds herself addicted to something she has never had. Dark and seductively delicious twins.
Liam and Aidan Wright, the dark and seductively declious owners of Wright Studios, are lucky in fortune, not with love. They hatch the perfect soul mate plan using one of the studio’s movies and its star, Gia Carelli, as the chosen one. They agree that the onyx-haired goddess is exactly their type.
Will Gia be able to fight her body’s response to their heat and her soul's response to their hearts?
Genre: Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre
Length: 37,301 words
THREE KISSES OF LUST
Dede Craig
MENAGE AMOUR
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Ménage Amour
THREE KISSES OF LUST
Copyright © 2011 by Dede Craig
E-book ISBN: 1-61034-745-5
First E-book Publication: September 2011
Cover design by Jinger Heaston
All cover art and logo copyright © 2011 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
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www.SirenPublishing.com
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DEDICATION
This book is dedicated to my original hero, my hot husband.
THREE KISSES OF LUST
DEDE CRAIG
Copyright © 2011
Chapter 1
Liam Wright watched while Maggie swept her slim hand toward a blonde threesome standing in a fog of Marlboro Lights’ smoke. They stood directly in front of a perfectly dressed facade of a deserted motel in the studio’s outdoor lot, whispering and giggling between puffs.
Maggie snorted. “The supporting cast. They play the troublemaking plastic wives club. I would say pretty accurate typecasting, don’t you think?” She raised her own thin cigarette to her equally scant lips, taking a long drag before exhaling to the heavens.
He was never one for blondes. In LA, they had become tree-like fixtures, dotted all across the city, forcing anyone to become jaded. He threw a cursory smile in their direction then turned his attention back to Maggie.
Her dove gray eyes narrowed, and she took a last quick drag before dropping the cigarette butt on the floor, twisting her tan brogue over the glowing filter. “So, Liam, this movie is going to be insane. It’s already getting crazy buzz. Will you be staying for the opening shot?”
Liam nodded. “I will, yes. It’s the first summer release for next year. Our expectations are high of course.” He placed his hands into the pockets of his black pants.
Maggie’s cell phone vibrated, and she raised her index finger in the air, clicked a button on her earpiece then lowered her head to take the call. “Yes, okay got it.” Her high-pitched voice cut through as she spoke into a headset then clicked off. “Liam, there’s a change in the shoot sequence. We’re shooting Gia Carelli’s scene with Cole Aimes first. Are you going to have a problem with that, Mr. Wright?” She reached for another cigarette from her cargo pants pocket and lit it in one swift movement.
Liam shook his head and studied her profile and he couldn’t help smiling. Same old flame-haired Maggie. It matched perfectly to her equally fiery temper and no-nonsense chutzpah. His Diablo second mother, as he liked to call her. So many memories. His brow creased as the tinge of nostalgia swirled through him.
“You’re awfully quiet, gorgeous, you okay? What’s with the brow lines? You know frowning ages you by at least ten years, and I don’t picture you handling Botox.”
He laughed softly, watching her. “You’re still the same firecracker Production Manager as always.”
She clicked her tongue with a smile. “And that makes you frown? I’m still the best in Hollywood, kid. To deal with this lot you have to be. I love my job. It’s the dumb ones I detest. The ones that think they make the movies. They make shit.”
Liam nodded with a laugh.
Maggie linked her arm into the crook of his and then led him toward the assigned catering area. “Come on, hot stuff, I’ll get you a cup of coffee and introduce you to the bleached bevy just dying to meet you. They’re practically salivating. You really should make an effort to look less hot when you’re around so much estrogen. And just when was the last time you got laid by the way? You know it’s going to turn blue, don’t you?”
“Maggie, can you stay out of my sex life?” He unhooked his arm then laughed out loud. They came to a stop at the catering gazebo, and he turned to face her, her six feet meeting his inch for inch without heels.
She smiled while the sinewy smoke trailed up her narrow cheekbones to her wide eyes. She held the cigarette aloft while she spoke. “I’ll stay out of it when you have one. Now, let’s get serious. It’s going to be a long day. Are you going to stick around?”
He reached over and grabbed the lit cigarette out of her hand before killing it on the top of the large silver dustbin next to the catering table.
Her eyes widened, and she watched the motion, horrified. “Hey, I wasn’t done with that.”
“Smoking will kill you. Anyway, I’ll stay on set for as long as I can. Tony and I
have been discussing a few changes to reduce the budget. We can’t afford any delays. I’m worried about this change in scene. Any particular reason for it?”
Maggie frowned at the cigarette, her narrow shoulders braced to retrieve it. Instead, she turned toward the table.
Following her glance, Liam looked at the variety of juice, pastries, deli-style sandwiches, and fresh fruit. He wasn’t the breakfast type, so nothing looked appealing.
Maggie bypassed the plates and reached for two porcelain mugs engraved with the black Wright Studios logo. “There’s really nothing to worry about. We’ve got the best crew, hand-picked by you of course. The cast is solid, well except for one or two favors—Marco.” She coughed the name. “Other than that, everything’s going to be fine.”
He frowned at her potshot against the producer. She had recommended someone else, and evidently wasn’t over it. Ignoring it, he continued, “I should hope so. It’s costing us a fortune.”
“Worry less, live more. Heed the advice of an old woman. You need a special someone and a couple of nappy holders.” She reached for one of the clear coffee pots, poured both cups full, and then handed one to him. Her eyes softened, and she tilted her head toward him, her lips curved into a warm smile. “Liam, I worry about you guys all the time. You and your brother need to settle down. Thirty is already too late if you want heirs. Your father was pushing forty when you two came along, not the ideal age to be running after kids.” Her eyes glazed then she quickly shook her head.
Liam reached out for her hand and squeezed it, feeling the warmth. “We’ll be okay. We’re big boys, and we can take care of ourselves.”
“Yeah I know. It’s just well, since your dad... Oh, never mind. I can’t let the crew see me get all emotional.” She gulped before continuing. “Okay, back to business. Tony decided the scene with Cole and Gia would work better in the morning light. It matches the scene time. Cole, the supporting actor, he hasn’t been able to make the table reads. He’s fresh off the Okie bus. They reckon he’s the next Brad Pitt. Gia is a pro though. She’ll handle it just fine.”
Liam’s eyes narrowed and he sipped on the steaming coffee before responding. “Gia Carelli. I know her work. There’s no doubt that she’ll nail the role.”
Her name sent an uncontrollable shudder through his body. From her movies and photos, she was your typical exotic beauty with a Sports Illustrated body to match. He wouldn’t admit it to Maggie, but having Gia agree to do this movie had been a deciding factor in Wright Studios purchasing and financing it. He didn’t want Maggie to pick up on his thoughts, so he angled his body away, facing the lot.
He could feel the ripples of vibration that came with the first day of shooting. Various crew members were rushing about the wide expanse of the lot, standing in groups or on their phones amidst scores of silver trailers, trucks, and equipment.
“I agree. Gia is a rare gem of professionalism in this Sodom of Hollywood.” Maggie nodded then sipped from her mug. “I swear I’ve worked with a shitload of these starlets, and she is pure A-list. And hot. God, the girl makes nun habits look spectacular. She acts like one though, never a sex-laden scandal with her. Though, she never gives us half the shit these other PYTs do.”
“PYTs?” Liam raised an arched brow.
“Oh yeah, Pretty Young Things. It’s odd how the lower they are on the ladder, the bigger their egos.” She tightened her lips and turned toward the blondes.
Liam followed her line of sight and smirked.
“I’m just partial to actresses who know what the word respect means. Anyway, Gia Carelli is top notch. First on set, the last to leave. Consummate director’s dream. You know, you should take her out.” Maggie’s eyes glistened, the idea growing until she positively glowed.
Liam smiled. Those were his strategic sentiments exactly, but he wasn’t ready to let Maggie know it. “So where is she? I haven’t met her yet.” He feigned disinterest and scanned the lot. Though he knew he would have spotted her from a mile. He had read her profile a couple of months ago. Discovered at fifteen in a crowd at a concert by a keen-eyed camera operator, she landed her first role a couple of days later. The rest was indeed history. He doubted she’d be able to blend in here.
“She’ll probably be perched somewhere reading the script or a book. Just look for her glossy black mane. She could be in her trailer. She spends a lot of time there.” Maggie arched her neck, searching the crowds.
“A recluse then?” He kept his voice neutral, unwilling to betray anything more than casual interest.
“She likes to zone out before shoots. She mingles when she’s not shooting though. She’s, well, nice. Are there any nice ones still left?” Maggie shrugged. Her attention veered over his left shoulder, and she pointed. “There she is, over there. She’s heading to her trailer. Why don’t you go introduce yourself. I have to go and check the setup. Just shout if you need anything, okay, babe?”
He turned around, and sure enough there she was, well, the back of her. All he could see was a dark sheath of waist-length hair, the color of rich oil, falling in uneven waves.
“Introduce myself? Sure, why not. Thanks, Maggie.” He turned back then gave her a quick kiss on her cheek.
“You’re welcome, hon. See you later. You guys would actually make the perfect couple.” With a final wink she walked away, missing the knowing smile on Liam’s face.
* * * *
Liam turned back to face the trailer.
Gia stood rigid on the steel steps, one hand to her ear, the other slicing the air around her.
He strolled toward the gleaming silver trailer, his gaze sweeping from her head to her slim, toned legs. She was swathed in a shiny pink robe which stopped mid-thigh.
He reached the door when she entered the trailer, though she had left it slightly open. She was evidently on her phone, shouting to whoever it was on the other end of the line.
He stopped and stood with his back to the trailer, alongside the door.
“Mom, look, I’m done, okay! Put Dad on the phone. This is ridiculous.”
“Her mother,” he whispered more to himself. Maybe this wasn’t the best time to be meeting her. Aidan had warned him to approach her on neutral ground, but patience was something he lacked. He had waited too long as is.
His raised his knee and rested his foot on the back of the trailer. His coffee still in his hand, he gulped the remainder down.
Her voice had a softer timber in real life, neither low nor high-pitched, somewhere in between. A youthful singsong voice. Hearing it now, she either had voice coaching for the huskier tone she used in her movies or it changed when she was mad. He had only watched two of her films, but she made them memorable enough. She wasn’t exactly someone you forgot.
“Dad, can you keep your wife away from the supermarket trash mags? I can’t defend myself every second of the day on some wild story she reads. She actually believes the crap.”
Liam smiled in surprise. He thought it was something more serious, but tabloid stories? He laughed to himself.
“Tell her I love her, and I swear, if and when I do decide to get married, she’ll be the first to know, not the National Enquirer. I gotta go. Love you, too.”
He heard a muffled scream followed by a bright pink object flying out of the trailer. He jerked when it crashed on the concrete below. The shards splattered across his black John Lobb loafers.
He looked down at the remains of her shiny phone. Parts of it were still covered in a plethora of rhinestones in varying shades of pink.
The door squeaked behind him, and he turned and then froze. He was winded, feeling like he was inches away from the eye of the perfect storm. God, she was exquisite. Her pictures did her absolutely no justice.
Her large green eyes widened in surprise then wrinkled with concern. “I’m sorry, did I hit you?”
Possibly the most alluring woman he had seen in a long time. No justice at all. Gone was the dramatic camera makeup and wind-blown hair. She was a raven-haired na
tural beauty. Natural in LA? It sounded like an anomaly. Sans makeup, she looked much younger in person and ethereally beautiful. Her glowing skin was a warm olive tone, slightly flushed. His eyes traveled, and he found it difficult to look away, though he knew he should, he was—
“When you’re through ogling, would you mind telling me if you’re okay? Did I hit you?” She waved her small hand in the air, breaking the trance. She crossed her arms then tightened her satin robe around her chest, stepping slowly down the stairs, stopping in front of him, her eyes fixed on his.
A whiff of her perfume flitted into his flaring nostrils, and his eyes drooped, the fresh floral scent swirling through his nose.
His mind quickly caught up to her words, and he nodded. He should have looked away, been polite, said anything, yet all he could do was stare, completely entranced. She stood so close to him, a whisper away, and he could see her eyes were not simply dark green. They were tinged with gold and brown specks. Her nose was small, but defined. Sure, he knew she was stunning, but nothing had prepared him for her. She was utterly sublime, a wet dream come true before his eyes.
His eyes were focused on her lips, pursed into a tight line. He wanted to taste those full, sweet, pink lips. Both. On her stunning face and presumably lush and suitably wet slit. He wanted her. He inhaled then clenched his jaw, and the air rocked down his chest, into his belly, settling on his cock. It hardened in place.
Her head was tilted, her narrowed eyes watching him, beginning on his face and traveling down the length of his body. For a second too long, it settled on the mug in his hand and—