Filthy Beast

by B. B. Hamel

  It’s not impossible. I mean, based on the pictures I saw, I can totally see that happening.

  “So you just dropped her at her room?” I ask him.

  “Exactly. She was wasted, Tara. And I’m not interested in her at all.”

  My heart is beating faster and this is what I was afraid of. I didn’t want to know the truth because it’s easier to hate him. It’s so much simpler if he’s just an asshole that broke my heart and nothing more to me.

  But as he steps closer, I know that’s not the case. It hasn’t been, not since he walked back into my life. The bastard broke me, but now he’s back, and all those old feelings are warring inside of me.

  He stops inches away from me. I can’t help but notice that he’s slightly damp with sweat, but not too bad. He’s looking at me like he wants to rip my clothes off and I’m freaking out. I should run away, get the hell out of there, but I’m rooted in place. I want to feel what I felt the other day again. I want to taste him, even if it’s irresponsible and stupid.

  “You know there’s only one thing I want,” he says, his body so close to mine.

  “We can’t,” I whisper, but I don’t mean it.

  He can see right through me. He always could. “Yes, we can.”

  He kisses me and I don’t resist. I feel everything inside of me crumble. All of my fear and my anger and my disappointment, it all melts away and I’m left at his mercy, totally exposed for him.

  He doesn’t waste any time. We’re in his trailer, surrounded by people outside, but I don’t care. He presses me back against the couch, pushing me down into the cushions. His powerful body pins me beneath him as he pulls my shirt off, yanking it over my head and tossing it aside.

  His lips are starving as they find my neck and throat. His hands tease my breasts and unhook my bra, pulling it off. He cups my full breasts and teases my nipples as he kisses me again. My heart is pounding and I’m wet already with anticipation. I know what’s coming, what he’s going to do to me, and I need it so badly.

  “Come here, girl,” he says, pulling me onto his lap. I toss my hair back and straddle him, grinding my hips down against his hard cock. I can feel him through his thin gym shorts as his hands reach up along my hips to tease my breasts again.

  One of his hands reaches back and grabs my hair. He tips my head back, pulling my long, thick hair. I gasp as he smirks and kisses my neck. “This is all I want,” he whispers. “Your fucking perfect little wet cunt wrapped around my thick cock.”

  “Don’t be so filthy,” I say, pushing him back.

  He laughs and pulls my hair again. “You like it filthy. Stop pretending like you’re some good girl, Tara. I know you better than that.”

  “No, you don’t,” I say, and I bite his lower lip.

  He grunts and twists, lifting me into the air. He pushes me back down onto the couch and drops onto his knees in front of me. He roughly pulls my jeans off and rips off my panties until I’m completely naked in front of him.

  He pulls my hair again and I dig my nails into his back. I’m angry and I’m dripping wet, and I need this moment so badly.

  “Look at you, naked in my trailer, begging for it rough,” he says with a smirk.

  “I’m not begging for it.” I pull his hair back.

  He grins at me and drops back down below my waist. His lips find my pussy as he roughly pushes my legs wide open. He pins my hands down at my sides as he licks and sucks my pussy. I struggle a little bit but he holds me there, and really I just want to work my hips against his mouth as his practiced tongue laps at my swollen clit.

  He dives in and out of my pussy with his tongue and goes back to sucking my clit. Waves of pleasure wash through me as he continues to roughly hold me down, pinning my hands at my sides and down against the couch.

  “You’re an asshole,” I say to him. “An animal. A filthy fucking beast. I don’t want anything to do with you.”

  That only makes him press two of his thick fingers deep inside of my pussy. With his other hand he grabs my hair.

  “Liar,” he says to me, pumping his fingers. I can’t help but moan as the pleasure and the pain mix.

  “You’re an asshole,” I groan. “A fucking asshole. I don’t want anything to do with you.”

  “You’re all I want,” he says, biting my lip and pressing his fingers deep inside of my pussy. “And I’ll show you exactly what you want.”

  He pulls his fingers out and stands. He quickly pulls his shorts and boxer briefs off, revealing his thick cock. I reach up to take it in my hand but he takes my wrist and pulls it away, pinning it back down against the top of the couch.

  With his other hand he takes my hair and he presses his cock against my mouth. I moan as I take him between my lips. I suck him faster, letting him slide into my throat as he fucks my lips.

  “This is what you want, you dirty fucking slut,” he says to me. “You’re just as bad as I am, and you know it. Deep down all you want is for my thick cock to fuck you and spread you apart. You just want to be my filthy little fuck girl, lying around waiting for my big dick to rip you to shreds.”

  I’m moaning as I suck him. He releases my other wrist and presses my head down, forcing his big cock into my throat. I gag but I take him. I ignore the tears that spring to my eyes as I let him fuck my throat. I dig my nails into his thighs and he groans his pleasure.

  He pulls back and I gasp. He kisses me full and deep before pulling my hair back again and taking his cock in his other hand. He teases my lips and makes me suck his tip again. I suck him hard and fast along his tip and shaft.

  “Get up,” he says, pulling me by my hair. I have to obey him. He gets me to my feet and spins me around, putting my knees on the couch, my ass in the air. I’m dripping wet and I’m so exposed, totally naked there on the couch. He pulls his shirt off and I watch him over my shoulder as he gets behind me, his muscles ripped and shining in the trailer light.

  “Look at this cunt,” he says, teasing me with his cock. He drops to his knees and spreads my ass open. “Look at this perfect little pussy.” He licks me top to bottom, tasting everything. He slaps my ass hard, making me gasp, before getting back up.

  He grabs one of my wrists and twists it behind my back. Just as it’s starting to hurt, he shoves his cock inside of me, filling me up and blasting a wave of pleasure through my body.

  His other hand pulls my hair back again and I’m totally pinned there, his cock skewering my tight pussy, his hands gripping my body.

  “This is what you live for,” he whispers in my ear. “This is what you need.”

  “Stop talking and fuck me,” I snap back at him, wanting him to be angry. I want him to be as angry as I am.

  He laughs and slaps my ass hard. I gasp and start to back against him, sliding my ass along his thick cock. I need to feel him fucking me tight and deep, ripping me apart and making me feel good. I need him to punish me.

  He starts to fuck me, sliding his cock deep inside of me. He grabs my hips and rips into me, rocking my pussy rough and deep, not holding back at all. I grip the back of the couch and look over my shoulder as he tears into me.

  “You like to fucking see me rip your cunt to pieces?” he says to me. He slaps my ass and my mouth hangs open, staring at his gorgeous body as he fucks me.

  He grabs my hair again, slaps my ass, and pumps into my pussy. I work back against him harder and harder, slamming my ass into him, taking his thick cock deep inside of me. It hurts and it feels good and it’s exactly what I need right now.

  I pull forward and he slides out of me. Before he can press back inside of me, I turn around and kiss him. I press my body against his and he takes me, kissing me back. I steer him around and push him back down onto the couch.

  He smirks and strokes his cock. I grab my hair and put it up into a messy bun before straddling him and slowly letting his cock slide inside of me. I grab onto the couch on either side of his head and I press my lips against his ear.

  “You’re a bastard fo
r what you did,” I say to him. I start to work my hips faster, our faces so close. He grabs my hips and slaps my ass. “You don’t deserve this.”

  He smirks and pulls my hair back. “This is exactly what you deserve, though,” he says back.

  I ride him faster, fucking my frustrations and my anger away. All of my feelings come bubbling up to the surface and I want it rough, want it so fucking rough I can barely stand it. I move faster and faster, building up the friction as he slaps my ass and pulls my hair.

  I don’t know where this is coming from but it feels so fucking good. I want to come so badly, and I realize how close I am. I slam my hips down and back, taking his cock deep inside of me, and I grind down along him, working in circles. He bites and teases my nipples, cupping my full breasts.

  I slide my fingers through his hair and I slam myself back and down. He fucks me, working into my pussy, and I can’t help it anymore. I can’t hold it back.

  “Go ahead, Tara,” he whispers in my ear. “Come for me.”

  I gasp and I don’t know how he can read me so easily, but I can’t stop myself. I come hard, the orgasm washing over my body, destroying everything.

  It’s like all of my anger and sadness and frustration comes washing out of me in pleasure and pain. It’s so intense that my entire body spasms and shakes, but he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t hold back. He just fucks my pussy as I come, and he wraps his arms around me, holding me tight against him.

  He grunts his own pleasure, and I can feel him come inside of me. He comes in thick, hot spurts, filling my pussy up. I gasp and moan and whisper his name as he comes and I feel so fucking good I can barely breathe.

  When we finish, we collapse onto the couch together, his arms wrapped around my body. We’re quiet for a little while until I finally laugh.

  “What?” he asks.

  “I have to go back to work,” I say.

  He grins at me. “You might want to shower.”

  I sigh. “You’re probably right.”

  “Come on. I’ll wash your back.”

  I get up and grin at him. “No, thanks,” I say. “You can stay out here.”

  He frowns. “That’s no fun.”

  “Too bad.” I grab my clothes and go back into his bathroom. I start the shower and clean myself off.

  I did it again. I let myself do something stupid. I keep falling for Jackson, even when I know better. He’s involved in some fake relationship with Holly, who hates my guts, not to mention our complicated past. This is so stupid, and yet I can’t help myself. My feelings for him are so complex and intense that when he touches my body I can’t hold anything back.

  I shower up and head back to work like nothing just happened, but for the rest of the day, I keep thinking about Jackson’s hands on my skin, his lips against mine.

  19

  Jackson

  “It ain’t gonna fuckin’ happen, okay?”

  I glare at Mickey and cross my legs. He’s sitting behind his oversized desk and the thing makes him look like a fucking balding child. I want to get up and rip that stupid geometric tie off his smug neck but I know I still need him, despite being pissed with him.

  “Did you talk with Franklin directly?” I ask him.

  “Jackson, baby, listen to me: I fucking tried, okay? I called Franklin, I called Harold, hell, I even called fucking Holly’s agent, Dick, and that guy seriously is a fucking dick, you know?”

  I groan a little and adjust myself on his cheap couch. “So it’s not happening,” I say.

  “It’s not happening,” he says, and he seems genuinely sorry about it. “Look, I want everything for you. You’re a good kid, you work hard, it’s no bullshit with you. But unfortunately here, you have to play the game, and the game wants you to fake date Holly Hart.”

  I glance over at the window and I know this isn’t going to get me anywhere. Mickey wanted this from the start, but I do believe that he’s trying to get me out of it. Mickey hasn’t lied to me before, and I don’t think he’d start now.

  The door opens and Von steps in. Mickey looks up and curses. “Not right now,” he says.

  Von smiles sweetly. “Iced tea for Mr. Hendricks.”

  “Thanks,” I grunt as he hands me the drink.

  “Did he ask for it?” Mickey shouts.

  “No,” Von says.

  “But it’s really good,” I say, taking a sip.

  “Damnit, Von,” Mickey says, and he’s already starting to get a little red.

  Von grins at me. “I think you should do whatever you want, and ignore this old blowhard’s advice.”

  “I’m going to fire your ass,” Mickey screams, and Von laughs as he leaves the room.

  I grin at Mickey. “That kid loves fucking with you.”

  He takes a deep breath and shakes his head. “Yeah, well, if he were smart he’d be kissing my ass instead.”

  “I think he’s right though.” I stand up and put the drink down on Mickey’s desk. He instantly shuffles some papers around and tries to find a coaster for it. “I’m going to figure this out on my own.”

  “Jackson, hold on, wait.”

  I turn and go to leave, and Mickey is too busy trying to get a coaster under the drink to stop me. He cares more about his precious little desk, which doesn’t surprise me at all. That’s this whole fucking town in a nutshell: all flash, no substance.

  But I have substance. And I know what I need to do.

  Outside, I get into my car and start driving. I call up Mickey’s office and Von answers on the first ring. “Mickey Rains,” he says.

  “Von, it’s Jackson.”

  “Didn’t I just see you?” he asks me.

  “Listen, what’s Franklin’s home address?”

  He hesitates a second. “That old studio guy?”

  “Yeah, that’s the one.”

  “Mickey would kill me if I told you.”

  “Isn’t that a good reason to do it then?”

  He laughs a little. “Yeah, okay. But seriously, Jackson, you should take Mickey’s advice. He knows what he’s doing.”

  “I know,” I say. “Address, please.”

  “Just a sec.” He taps at his computer for a minute before reading me an address. It’s in a really nice part of town, which isn’t surprising.

  “Thanks, I owe you one.” I hang up and plug the address into my GPS before taking off even faster.

  My plan is pretty half-baked, but I hate waiting around for Mickey to make something happen. Clearly that’s not working, and I have something good with Tara, or at least I might. This new picture in the tabloids isn’t helping anything, but I think I convinced her that it’s all bullshit.

  At least I hope so. Tara doesn’t seem like everyone else out here. I don’t think Hollywood has contaminated her like it has everyone else. She seems more interested in getting her work done and doing a good job than she does in networking and pretending to be everyone’s best friend. There are other people like her out here, of course, but they’re few and far between. The longer I’m here doing movies, the longer I realize that I hate Hollywood.

  It has a stink to it. Everything reeks of plastic and cleaning agents. It’s all too smooth and perfect, but I know that’s just the image they want you to see. People out here are all façade and show, but there’s nothing underneath propping it all up.

  Which is why I think I can convince this studio guy. He’s probably not used to an actor actually standing up for himself and demanding something. Sure, actors want little stupid perks, but when it comes to the big stuff, they always roll over and do what their master wants.

  I pull up out front of Franklin’s place. It’s gated, like every fucking house out here, but fortunately it opens as soon as I pull into the driveway. The house itself is set back from the front. It’s large and white with big white columns, sort of a cross between colonial and Greek styling. It’s honestly fucking ugly and absurd, but people love this shit out here.

  I get out of my car and climb up the steps. I ri
ng the bell, which is this big booming sound that I can’t help but roll my eyes at. A minute later, a little girl pulls open the enormous wood door and looks up at me with these big blue eyes.

  She’s maybe four years old and is absolutely adorable.

  “Hey there, sweetie,” I say. “Is your daddy home?”

  She nods her head.

  “Can I see him?”

  She nods her head again but doesn’t move.

  I smile and kneel down in front of her. “What’s your name?”

  “Ashley,” she says in her tiny little girl voice.

  “Ashley, pretty name. Do you like movies, Ashley?”

  “Yes,” she says. “Daddy makes movies.”

  “That’s right, he does. I work in your daddy’s movies.”

  She smiles at me. “Actor,” she says.

  “That’s right, I’m an actor.”

  “Actors are all scum,” she says. “Daddy says that!”

  I stare, completely fucking shocked, as she turns and runs back into the house. I can’t believe the little girl just said that. I burst out laughing, not able to help myself as I stand back up. He must say that a lot if she’s repeating it.

  I push the door open a bit. “Hello?” I call in.

  A second later, Franklin comes around the corner, followed by his daughter. “Jackson?” he asks, cocking his head. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m really sorry,” I say. “I just need a second of your time.”

  He takes a deep breath and sighs. “Okay. Five minutes.” He kneels down in front of his daughter. “Now, honey, what does daddy always say about actors?”

  She smiles sweetly at me. “Best people ever.”

  I grin at her and wink and she giggles before Franklin sends her away. That must be what he wants her to say, but clearly little Ashley knows her daddy better than he realizes.

  Doesn’t matter to me. I think all studio execs are scum, so we’re even.

  I follow Franklin into his obnoxiously gorgeous house, and I have to wonder if the guy makes more money than I do. We head into his study and he sits behind his desk, gesturing for me to take a seat in front of him.