Ivy Series Teacher Student Romance - Boxed Set: Romance Boxed Sets for Kindle Unlimited (Ivy Series - Teacher Student Romance Book 7)

by Suzy K Quinn

  A few cameras are already set up, one on a rail running along the ground.

  Camera and sound people stand around the clearing, waiting for Nadia’s signal.

  ‘I thought here would be perfect,’ says Nadia. ‘Don’t you think? Sort of dark and scary but beautiful too. So romantic.’

  ‘I agree,’ says Leo, grinning at me. ‘Looks great, don’t you think?’

  ‘It does.’ I look around. ‘So where do you want me?’

  ‘Here.’ Nadia leads me to Leo. ‘Right next to him, okay? Right from the start. Chest to chest.’

  She pushes us together and I stumble a little, still feeling a bit nauseous.

  Leo catches me. ‘Hey. Don’t fall over princess. Not in your condition.’

  ‘I’ll try not to.’

  ‘Okay. Great!’ Nadia stands back. ‘Just like that. Arms around each other.’

  Leo puts his arms around my shoulders and I put mine around his waist.

  ‘You’ve done this before,’ says Leo, winking.

  ‘Enough of the jokes. You’re dating my best friend. Remember?’

  ‘I remember. The best girl in the world. But I wouldn’t be me without the jokes would I?’

  ‘We’re going to go straight into the kiss,’ says Nadia. ‘Okay?’

  I nod.

  Leo turns on his seductive eyes. ‘Darling Princess Sophia. I finally have you in my arms.’

  ‘Leo. Give me a break would you?’

  ‘Okay, okay. I get it. No jokes. Not with Mr Blackwell right around the corner.’

  ‘Let’s just stick to the script.’

  My stomach is really churning now and I just want this scene over with.

  ‘Oh come on!’ says Leo. ‘I have to be able to ad lib a little. I’m a free spirit. I go with my feelings. That’s how all the best scenes come around.’

  I roll my eyes. ‘Let’s be serious.’

  ‘You’re right. Kissing is a serious business.’

  ‘Okay you two.’ Nadia is looking at the camera now. ‘And … action.’

  Leo looks down at me, his brown eyes turning seductive again. ‘How’d you get out that tower?’ he breathes.

  Wow – I have to say Leo is a pretty amazing actor. The way he can go from jokey to sexy in a second is impressive.

  I look up at him. ‘The same way you got up. I climbed.’

  Leo really does smell good. I think it’s something to do with the pregnancy, but my senses are incredibly sensitive right now. I can smell his skin and aftershave. Even his shampoo.

  ‘Climbed all that way?’

  ‘All that way. To find you.’

  ‘And here was I thinking it was me finding you.’ Leo lowers his lips to mine and kisses me, leaning me back in his arms so the camera can get a good shot of my face.

  I let myself be kissed and respond too. But my heart stays locked up. This is my body and this is my job – to act like Leo and I are in love. And I can make it look real. But it’s not.

  I hear the camera zoom in on us and know this will be a really tight shot of our faces.

  We pull back and gaze at each other, the prince and princess in love.

  I swallow quickly, hoping I’m not going to ruin the moment by throwing up.

  ‘Bravo!’ Nadia claps loudly. ‘Great! Great you two. Hey – you know what? I think we got that first try. Let me take a look.’

  Secretly I’m really hoping we don’t go again. Not because I have any problem kissing Leo. But because I know the longer we take, the more painful it will be for Marc.

  I mean yes, this is my job and he has to accept that. But I still understand how hard this must be for him. If it were the other way around, I’d be freaking out.

  Nadia watches the scene on the digital camera screen. Then she claps again. ‘Great! I think we got it. But let’s try a few more takes, okay? Get the best one we can do.’

  58

  When I get back to Marc, he’s sitting on a wooden chair, elbows on his knees, frowning.

  ‘How was it?’ he asks, the words stilted.

  ‘Fine,’ I tell him. ‘The scene went well. I managed to keep the sickness down.’

  ‘Glad to hear it.’

  ‘You know it doesn’t mean a thing. Don’t you?’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Hey. Marc? Mr Blackwell? What I just did with Leo – that wasn’t a real kiss. This is a real kiss.’

  I press my lips to his.

  Marc arms come around me, his lips pressing hard against mine.

  Then he pulls back, his eyes wild as they search mine. ‘Maybe I should let you kiss another man more often.’

  I laugh.

  ‘You’re finished for the day?’ he asks.

  ‘I am.’

  ‘And you’re not feeling too sick?’

  ‘Not at all actually. Not when I’m close to you like this. Crazy isn’t it?’

  ‘Get changed. I’m taking you straight home.’

  Marc carries me to the car, his hands under my backside as he kisses me.

  I try to keep my moans from spilling out, but as he climbs into the driver’s seat with me on his lap I can’t hold back.

  ‘Oh god, Marc.’

  We’re still kissing passionately as he closes the car door.

  ‘I don’t know if I can wait until we get home,’ I murmur.

  Marc slides the seat all the way back so I don’t press against the steering wheel.

  ‘We’re not going to wait.’ He pushes up my summer dress and feels my panties, his hand sliding into the cotton material.

  ‘Marc,’ I murmur, my head dropping back as he kisses my neck. ‘We can’t. Not here. What if someone sees?’

  ‘Don’t say can’t. It only makes me more determined.’

  Before I can protest, Marc frees himself from his trousers and pushes my panties aside.

  ‘Marc, we can’t.’

  ‘That word again.’

  Marc slides the full length of himself inside me, and I fall completely silent, biting my lip to stop myself crying out.

  ‘You know,’ Marc says as he starts the car. ‘You only have yourself to blame for this. After that kiss I couldn’t help myself.’

  I look around wildly. ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘I’m driving you home.’ Marc moves my face over his shoulder so my lips touch the soft leather seat. ‘But for that I’ll need a clear view of the road.’

  He puts a hand to the steering wheel and before I know it we’re moving through the car park.

  ‘Marc! You can’t drive the car while we’re—’

  ‘Don’t move.’ He puts the seatbelt over both of us.

  Marc’s length is pressing right inside me. All the way inside. And as the car moves, I slide around on top of him.

  ‘Oh Marc. Oh. Oh Marc,’ I moan, closing my eyes.

  ‘I told you not to move.’

  ‘I can’t help it.’

  I feel Marc’s foot lower on the accelerator, and the car glides out of the security gate and towards Tower Bridge.

  ‘People can see us,’ I gasp, as we cruise slowly along the road.

  Marc’s hand is relaxed on the steering wheel. ‘All they see is you on my lap.’

  ‘You’re sure you can concentrate?’

  ‘I’m sure. As long as you stop moving.’

  ‘That’s not so easy,’ I gasp, as the movement of the car pushes Marc deeper inside me. ‘Marc! Oh Marc, god. Please. You can’t—’

  ‘That word again.’

  Marc presses the accelerator.

  ‘Oh!’ I practically scream the word as Marc goes deep, deep inside me.

  I cling to him and his arm tightens around my back.

  ‘Marc. Marc!’

  I can’t help myself. I begin to move my hips, my fingers slipping under his buttocks to pull him deeper and deeper inside me.

  ‘Sophia.’ Marc’s fingers tighten on the steering wheel. ‘I told you not to move.’

  ‘I can’t help it. This feels too good.’


  My hips move back and forth, back and forth, getting into a steady rhythm until Marc touches all the right places over and over again.

  My head tips back and I moan.

  I notice Marc is driving faster now, and the London buildings fly past.

  Marc’s hand goes to my shoulder and he clamps me down.

  ‘Stop it.’

  ‘I don’t know how you can drive like this,’ I gasp, desperate to move.

  ‘It’s getting difficult. Believe me.’

  59

  By the time we pull into the garage I’m so desperate for Marc that I almost can’t stand it.

  Marc effortlessly parks the car, but as he turns the engine off his eyes close and he lets out a low moan.

  ‘You are fucking irresistible.’ His hands go to my hips and he lifts me up and down on his lap. ‘Oh Sophia. Oh yes. Yes. Yes!’

  I move against him over and over, my arms around his neck so I can pull him really deep inside me.

  I moan and throw my head back, my hair tumbling over the steering wheel.

  ‘Marc,’ I murmur, as we move together on the leather seat. ‘Oh god Marc. Oh god.’

  Our hips meet over and over again as we get into a rhythm that rubs me in all the right places.

  Marc grabs my hair and holds it tight, watching me with stern eyes as he thrusts his hips.

  I try to kiss him but he won’t let me, keeping a hold on me so I’m forced to look at him.

  ‘I want to see your face when you come,’ he breathes, thrusting into me and letting out long, low moans.

  His hand is on my buttocks and he pushes me against him with every thrust, making sure that every part of me makes contact, inside and out.

  ‘Oh Marc. Oh god.’

  Marc moves into me again and again, and I can’t hold back any more.

  My orgasm is huge and overwhelming, knocking me back against the steering wheel and making me cry out.

  Just as I think my orgasm is finishing, Marc pulls me back to him and slams his hips up between my legs one, two, three times …

  ‘Oh! Oh,’ I moan, as more waves of pleasure wash over me. I cling to Marc, my eyes closed, feeling my body overtaken with warmth.

  I hear Marc’s breathing quicken in my ear, and with a low moan he comes too.

  He buries his face into my hair. ‘Sophia. Oh god yes! Oh yes.’

  His hips push hard between my legs and his hands grip my buttocks. Then he sinks back into the leather seat.

  We cling to each other, breathing heavily, the world coming back into focus.

  I let out a long breath. ‘I can’t believe we just did that in the car.’

  ‘You were safe. I would never have lost control. Although I’ll be the first to admit, you made it very difficult.’

  ‘I lost control though.’

  ‘Yes you did.’ Marc takes a strand of my hair and turns it in his fingers. ‘I love watching you lose control. And seeing you come. Even all this makeup can’t take away how beautiful you are when you come.’

  My hand goes to my cheek. ‘You don’t like the makeup?’

  ‘I don’t mind it. But I prefer you without.’

  ‘You don’t think I look like a princess then?’ I ask, raising a teasing eyebrow. ‘That’s the name for me on set, you know. Princess Sophia.’

  ‘I can well believe it.’

  ‘But I don’t want to be a princess. I want to be like everyone else.’

  ‘That’s what makes you a princess. A real, humble, beautiful princess. And a lady.’ Marc’s hand hesitates on the car door handle. ‘Which I hope Leo Falkirk appreciated when he did that scene with you today.’

  ‘He did. He was the perfect gentleman. It’s just acting Marc. You know that. It doesn’t mean a thing.’

  ‘One thing’s for certain. I’ll be finding out the day you’re shooting the bedroom scene. And making sure I’m on set.’

  ‘Oh Marc. Come on. Aren’t we past this jealousy stuff?’

  ‘We’re past it, but that doesn’t mean I won’t take care of you. What kind of man wouldn’t be there to protect you?’

  ‘From what?’

  ‘From Leo taking things too far, for one.’

  ‘Marc. On a set full of people? That’s silly.’

  ‘Not that silly. I’ve been in this business a long time. It happens.’

  The smile leaves my face. ‘You’re kidding me.’

  ‘No. I’m not. I’ve seen famous actors lose control on set. The camera keeps rolling and the actors win Oscars for their performances. And no one knows they weren’t really acting.’

  ‘Have you ever—’

  ‘Never.’

  I shake my head. ‘Well Leo would never do that. And I would never … anyway, Leo is crazy in love with my best friend. And he’s done plenty of bedroom scenes before. I think he can control himself.’

  ‘I’m not so sure.’

  ‘Marc. Come on. Hey – haven’t we got our first scan soon? Shouldn’t you be thinking about that instead of worrying about stupid things? Please Marc. No more jealousy, okay?’

  ‘I’m not jealous. I’m protective. More of you now than ever. And to tell you the truth, I’m not looking forward to the scan.’

  ‘You’re not?’ I feel hurt spike my chest. ‘How come?’

  ‘Because if I feel this protective of you now, how the hell am I going to feel when I see a real-life picture of our baby?’

  60

  ‘I wish you’d eaten some breakfast,’ says Marc, as I lie on the hospital bed. ‘You need to keep your strength up.’

  A nurse is preparing the scanning equipment, and the female sonographer is waiting by the bed.

  ‘I’m just too nervous,’ I say. ‘And sick. I’ll eat something after the scan. I promise.’

  The sonographer smiles. ‘Okay Mrs Blackwell. Would you mind lifting your t-shirt?’

  I do, and the sonographer rubs cold gel on my tummy. Then she puts a plastic, white thing on my shiny skin. ‘Let’s get started.’

  ‘Can you see if it’s a boy or girl?’ I ask.

  ‘Not yet. Not until your next scan. We’re just going to do a few checks today to make sure the baby’s healthy.’

  I tighten my grip on Marc’s hand.

  As the sonographer moves the plastic thing around my belly, I notice white shadows appear on the TV hanging over the bed.

  ‘That’s your baby,’ says the sonographer, nodding at the screen.

  ‘Oh my god!’ I whisper in awe. ‘Oh Marc. Look!’

  Marc’s beautiful, dark eyebrows furrow together. ‘Does everything look the way it should?’

  The sonographer laughs. ‘Typical father question. Yes, Mr Blackwell. From what I can see here, you have a perfectly healthy baby in there. We’ll be able to see more on the next scan. But so far so good.’

  ‘So nothing to worry about?’ I squeak.

  ‘We never know for absolute certain of course,’ says the sonographer. ‘And there’s still the other scan. But I don’t think you have anything to worry about.’

  Marc helps wipe the gel from my tummy and pulls my t-shirt down.

  ‘Happy?’ I ask, squeezing his hand.

  ‘Relieved.’

  ‘It’ll be fine Marc. I promise.’

  ‘Well we’ve got the first scan out of the way,’ says Marc. ‘What’s next on the emotional, calendar? Ah yes. Your bedroom scene with Leo Falkirk.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I know it’s going to be difficult. It’ll be difficult for me too.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I know you’ll hate it.’

  ‘That’s not the only reason. You’re nervous. Aren’t you? I can tell.’

  ‘Yes,’ I admit. ‘I’ve never done a bedroom scene on camera before. I suppose I still have inhibitions.’

  ‘Let’s go home. You can show me the script again.’

  61

  Back at the townhouse, Marc and I sit in the lounge while he looks over the script.

  Marc dismisses Rodne
y for the day, telling him we’ll order takeout food for our evening meal.

  I know as soon as Marc dismisses Rodney that he has something planned. Something to do with the script. And helping me with my inhibitions.

  ‘Okay.’ Marc smacks the script on his knee. ‘So this isn’t the usual bedroom scene. This is a little more animalistic – two people covered in dirt and bruises having sex on a hay bale.’

  ‘Animalistic?’

  ‘Can you think of a better word?’

  ‘What about … passionate?’

  ‘It’s more than passionate. The characters are both bruised and worn out. Rapunzel is bleeding. The hero could be killed soon, by Baz’s character, and he thinks, “If I’m going to die, we need to make love”.

  ‘She resists him. Tries to fight him off. But then she relents, knowing she loves him and wants him too.’ Marc raises a teasing eyebrow at me. ‘In other words, the scene is animalistic.’

  ‘Fine. We’ll go with your word.’

  ‘I’m glad to hear you’re finally doing what you’re told. Now. Let’s get you in costume.’

  ‘We don’t have any costumes here.’

  ‘Rapunzel wears rags in this scene. I’m sure we can construct something.’

  ‘Is that really necessary?’

  ‘Yes. It’s really necessary. You need to practise having your clothes torn off.’

  I laugh. ‘Don’t you think we’ve practised that enough already?’

  ‘Go choose one of my shirts. I’ll get some scissors.’

  ‘We don’t have a hay bale,’ says Marc, leading me down into the basement car park. ‘But we do have a dungeon.’

  ‘We’re going to practise here?’ I say, following him down the steps.

  ‘Can you think of a better place? It’s dark. Gloomy. The perfect atmosphere don’t you think.’

  ‘I suppose.’

  Marc’s carrying a handful of leather sofa cushions, and he drops them on the concrete floor, right by an oil stain.

  ‘They’re going to get filthy,’ I say.

  ‘So I’ll buy some more.’

  ‘It must be nice being a millionaire.’

  ‘I’m not a millionaire, Sophia. I’m a billionaire.’

  I laugh. ‘Either way, it’s not good to waste things.’