Wild Duet Bookset

by Colet Abedi

“All right.” I chose to ignore her words. “I guess I should get started on the script.”

  “Wait!” Stacy rushes to keep me on the line. “Don’t get off yet.”

  Not since this morning.

  While I was thinking of the woman sitting outside my office.

  “The response I have ready to go in my head is pretty fantastic,” I admit wickedly. “Wanna hear it?”

  “No!” She sounds slightly horrified. “My assistant is on the phone!”

  I laugh. For a second I forgot how executives in Hollywood always have to have their assistant on every call, carefully listening, taking notes, and retaining everything so they can regurgitate the conversations with their boss after they hang up, like perfect little busy bees.

  “Thanks for the warning,” I say.

  “Let’s schedule a lunch,” Stacy insists. “We can catch up. I want to hear about everything going on in your world. Not just work stuff but personal as well.”

  Stacy wants to know if I’m dating someone.

  “Sure,” I say politely. “Have your assistant reach out to Kathleen, and we’ll get something on the books. I’ll come by the studio and see David as well.”

  And take a good look at his assistant.

  And maybe see Wild. Definitely see Wild.

  “I can’t wait to see you, Jamie.” Stacy tries to act breathless and unfortunately fails miserably. “It’s just been so long.”

  “See you soon, Stace,” I reply neutrally. Last thing I want to do is lead her on in any way, especially if I decide to do the movie. I can’t be in an uncomfortable situation at the studio for the year, at minimum, it will take before the film is finished.

  I hang up the phone and turn my gaze to the Pacific.

  My mind wanders back to the night at the club when I first caught a glimpse of Wild. God, she was hot. So deliciously hot, I was hard just staring at her. She had that sexy, exotic look. Earthy and real. The kind that makes you want to jump into bed with her and fuck her mad until she orgasms again and again for you.

  Which I did.

  And she did, many times.

  For me.

  Fuck. Why is she outside my office right now during business hours? Why can’t we be back at the club?

  I went that night on a whim.

  I’d been many times before, but out of all of those nights, I only slept with one other woman, the first time I was there. It was exciting and great sex, but strangely, I felt empty after. I went back again a few more times, and nothing. I had no desire to sleep with anyone; not one of the beautiful women who attended the club appealed to me.

  For a moment, I actually thought something was wrong with me, that my desires were about to become perverse and dark, that sex had lost its luster for me.

  Women were just too easily attainable, making me long for the chase.

  My best friend, Gabriel, dragged me to the club with him, and until Wild walked into the room, I had been immersed in dark thoughts of what my future sex life would be like.

  And then I saw her.

  Her mouth-watering face. Those crazy golden eyes that practically glow out of her face. Her beautiful blonde hair…

  Those sexy, plump lips I wanted to suck on and make out with like a school boy. I was fucking lost.

  And when we touched?

  It was electric.

  Like I knew her.

  Have known her. Forever.

  I’m not some guy who believes in soul mates and happily ever after. I’m a realist. Especially in the line of work I’m in. It doesn’t get more brutal or honest than this industry.

  I can’t put my finger on it, but something happened to me that night. She flipped my light back on.

  More than that. There’s something between us.

  I just know it in my bones, as my dad used to say, just as I know she’s sitting outside my office right now because we’re meant to fuck again. And again.

  And again.

  I can’t help but smile in anticipation.

  So, Wilder, the studio intern… What am I going to do with you?

  Chapter Five

  Jamie Donovan doesn’t make me wait for five hours.

  He makes me wait for six.

  Six hours.

  The woman who showed me in took an order for food from me, replenished my water, and legit looked puzzled every time she came to check on me. I’m sure she was wondering why I was still sitting outside her boss’s office. And to be honest, I knew just as well as she did that there was no way reading a script would take Jamie so long.

  I spend the hours obsessing over my predicament, so they kind of fly by. My stomach is in knots the entire time, and more than once I thought about leaving his house and heading back to the office to face Henry’s wrath. But this job is my entry into the business, into learning the ropes and to hopefully becoming a screenwriter, and I can’t allow one stupid night to ruin everything.

  Okay, maybe not so stupid… maybe passionate and incredible and dream worthy, but regardless, it was still only one night.

  It’s literally seven o’clock at night when he finally steps out of his office. And when he does, he’s holding a beer in one hand with the script under his other arm.

  I want to lay into him. The audacity. The absolute audacity.

  To intentionally make me wait so long.

  He crosses those muscled arms of his, cocks an eyebrow, and looks so sexy my mouth waters, and I forget to be mad. I’m just turned on.

  And I’m kind of happy to see him again.

  “Wilder.” His voice is like a velvet caress.

  I try to keep my voice neutral. “Mr. Donovan.”

  He smirks. “So formal,” he says and takes a swig from his beer. “Considering how intimately I know your body, how I can make you wet in virtually no time, and how I know that you like to scream right before you orgasm.”

  I feel myself blush in embarrassment.

  I burn. Everywhere.

  “Considering I’m the only man you’ve ever fucked.”

  I let out a gasp. I can’t believe him! I immediately stand and nervously shuffle around, my mouth suddenly parched.

  “What’s your answer, Mr. Donovan?” I ask, keeping my voice neutral and not wanting to engage in his sexual banter. I need to leave. I just can’t go there.

  I can’t.

  “Why is that, by the way?” Jamie continues like I haven’t asked a question. He starts to walk toward me, and my heart flutters. The spacious room suddenly feels like a small cell.

  He stops when he’s only a foot away. I have to crick my head up to look at him.

  “Can I please have your answer now, Mr. Donovan?” I ignore his question and meet his eyes. It takes everything I have to remain impassive, but what Jamie doesn’t know is I have a lifetime of experience at hiding my feelings.

  After watching my mom’s heart break time and time again, I built an impenetrable shield over my own. Even still, after the night he and I shared, I have a feeling this man can easily become my kryptonite.

  “You can have my answer after you give yours,” he tells me.

  I give him a cold smile. “I can wait.”

  “Indefinitely?” Jamie is amused.

  As if. Two can play his game. I sit back down on the couch and cross my legs, staring up at him. “Let me know when you make your decision, Mr. Donovan.”

  He laughs and takes another chug of his beer.

  “I’m going to dinner at Nobu.” His voice is casual. “See you when I’m back.”

  My mouth drops open. “You are not leaving me here while you go to dinner!” The words come out of my mouth before I can stop them.

  He slowly grins. “I can do whatever I want.”

  “I need an answer,” I practically plead with him.

  “So do I, baby.” His voice is rough, but the way he says “baby” makes my toes curl. He takes a dangerous step closer to me.

  “And the thing is you’re in my domain now,” he warns me. “Just like I
was in control of the room the other night. I’m in control here. Do you understand? We don’t ever play by your rules. We play by mine.”

  It’s like someone came in the room and sucked out all the air because I can’t seem to be able to breathe.

  I want him to control me here in his home.

  Just like he did in the club.

  It’s so unfair, I almost want to cry.

  “Mr. Donovan—”

  “Jamie.”

  “This is a professional relationship.”

  “Is it?” The look in Jamie’s eyes practically makes me come right there.

  We stare at one another for a long moment. Then I realize he’s really never going to let me leave until I give him an answer.

  So I give him one that will make him think twice about whatever game he thinks he’s playing with me.

  “I wanted my first time to be with someone I didn’t give a damn about.” The words come out of my mouth emotionlessly. “A random fuck. One of many appetizers before the main course.”

  The look on Jamie’s face changes to one of icy disdain.

  After a moment, his emerald eyes flicker over me dismissively. I can’t tell if he’s disgusted, displeased, or just turned off by my answer. In any event, I know he didn’t like what I said to him.

  “Yes,” he finally says.

  For a moment, I don’t know what he’s talking about, but then he hands me the envelope containing the script. I quickly take it from him.

  “You’ll do the movie?” I ask to confirm.

  “I thought that’s what yes meant.”

  Dick.

  He turns abruptly and leaves me standing in the room.

  “Kathleen will be in to see you out.”

  And like that, Jamie Donovan, one of the most famous directors in Hollywood, dismisses me.

  ––––––––––

  I’m in Kerri’s room, sitting on her bed in sweat pants and an old tank top, as we share a large cheese pizza from Mulberry’s. Kerri ordered. It was her way of comforting me, considering my text to her when I left Jamie’s house.

  She is the only person in the world I could or would ever tell even if I wanted to keep the sex I had with Jamie Donovan a secret forever because she is the only person in the world I know who had seen me leave with him.

  The only person who’d ever know who my mystery man really was.

  “I still can’t believe it, Wylder,” Kerri says and stuffs a bite of pizza in her mouth. “Jamie fucking Donovan.”

  “I said the exact same thing in my mind,” I admit to her.

  “But how did I not recognize him?” Kerri shook her head in disbelief. “I know exactly who he is. I mean, what an epic fail on my end.”

  “A total epic fail.” I nod in agreement.

  “Do you forgive me?”

  “I do. It’s not your fault I’m in this situation.” I pause but then can’t resist, saying, “You must have been really buzzed or something.”

  “I wasn’t drunk,” Kerri says with a mischievous smile. “It was something else.”

  “What?”

  “I had tunnel vision,” she admits. “I was looking for a man.”

  “When I last caught a glimpse of you at the club, you weren’t with one man, you were with two,” I say, pointing out the obvious.

  “I know.” She gives me a conspiratorial wink. “I couldn’t help myself. I just didn’t know who to choose.”

  She picks up her plastic cup of red wine. She stole the bottle from her parents’ wine cellar, so it’s a really good one. I don’t even want to know how much it probably costs. There’s no way they are storing wine from Trader Joe’s.

  “And your experience with him, Wyld, was it amazing?” Kerri asks with wide eyes.

  “Beyond.” I close my eyes. “I wish I could lie, but I liked it so much I think I’ll be run over by a car tomorrow if I say otherwise.”

  Kerri falls over in a fit of giggles, and I pick up another slice of pizza.

  “So not funny.”

  “Oh my God, Wylder,” she says as she laugh-snorts. “It kind of is.”

  “Maybe just a little.”

  Before Kerri can say anything else, there’s a knock on the door, and without any prompting, Tony walks in, still dressed in his work clothes. Poor guy. He’s become the senior vice president of the company’s personal bitch.

  He makes a beeline for the bottle of wine and throws it back. He gulps half of what’s left like a champ.

  “I’ve had the shittiest day,” Tony says, and I’m not surprised.

  “You and me both,” I tell him as I reach for my own cup to commiserate.

  Tony grabs a slice of pizza. “We can argue the semantics at another time.” He looks at both of us.

  Kerri is dressed in short shorts and a tank top that exposes a healthy amount of her rock-hard abs. Tony could care less. His day must have been really bad. Sometimes I catch him checking Kerri out when he thinks no one is looking, and it’s not like I’m surprised or anything. Kerri is drop-dead gorgeous and sexy as hell. Most guys are drawn to her.

  And being a B only seems to add to her appeal.

  “But if I were a betting man, I’d venture to guess you didn’t have to spend half the day picking up an aging executive from a plastic surgeon’s office,” Tony tells us in outrage, “who happened to be hopped up on pain meds and was acting completely insane and crying about how old she’s getting.”

  Tony pauses rather dramatically before continuing.

  “Then driving her to a secret hotel so she could recover without her husband finding out,” he says. “Her husband who, she told me in her delirium, is having a serious affair with his assistant. She’s also convinced he’s going to leave her for the bigger and much younger rack.”

  “No!” Kerri and I both exclaim at the same time.

  The husband he’s referring to is one of the most powerful agents in the business.

  “Truth is stranger than fiction,” Tony says. “Especially in Hollywood.”

  I think about my own predicament. “It certainly is.”

  Tony sits on the bed and takes a bite of his pizza. “Tell me about the sex cult,” he begs. “It’s the only thing that will distract me from the misery that is my life.”

  “It’s not a cult!” I snap.

  Kerri shoots me an accusatory glare. “You told him?!”

  “No.” I shake my head and point at her. “You did by leaving information out readily for him to read.”

  “Like where?” Kerri asks Tony with narrowed eyes.

  “Like,” Tony says as he flutters his eyes and mimics Kerri’s tone, “right next to your bag on the kitchen counter, mixed in with the mail.”

  “Oh.”

  “Please,” Tony practically begs as consumes the rest of his slice in record time. “I need to know.”

  “Wylder lost her V in the club,” Kerri says bluntly, causing me to choke on my pizza.

  She pounds my back as I cough my way out of my mortification and almost death.

  “I know that part.” Tony waves it off like it’s yesterday’s news. “I want to know the details.”

  “Gross,” Kerri says, rolling her eyes. “We don’t kiss and tell.”

  “Right.” Tony makes a face. “You expect me to believe you two haven’t been in here talking about every detail of that night?”

  “We’re not talking about any details,” I’m finally able to say. I glare at Kerri. “Thanks a lot!”

  “So what?” she says, waving me of. “Tony’s one of us.”

  “I don’t know if I should be insulted by that comment.” Tony glances at us both.

  “You should be,” I say.

  Tony sighs in defeat and grabs two more slices of pizza and the bottle of wine. He gets up and heads for the door. “I’m getting out of here before I’m accused of having a mangina.”

  “Too late,” Kerri calls out. “And who gave you permission to take the wine?”

  “I know you�
�ve got a case stashed under your bed.”

  “Hello, stalker.”

  “I needed to know where the emergency wine was hidden,” Tony says unaffected. He leaves and closes the door, and I fall back on the bed.

  “What will you do if you see him again?” Kerri asks without missing a beat. She gets up, and sure enough, she pulls out a case of wine from under her bed.

  I smile in gratitude.

  “I’m never seeing him again,” I tell her, even though the thought makes me sad. “I’m going to avoid him forever, like until the day I die.”

  “That’s not possible in this business.” Kerri grabs the wine opener and opens the bottle. “You’re bound to see him. And you know what, you’re a big girl. You’re allowed to do whatever you want in your private life. And he was there too, and from what little you tell me, a very willing participant.”

  God, was he willing.

  She fills my cup.

  “Are you going back to the club with me this weekend?” she asks with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

  “No!” I respond instantly even though I had fully intended on going back. But that was before I knew who he really was.

  “Why not?” Kerri is surprised.

  “What if I run into him again?”

  Kerri shrugs and lifts her brows. “More incredible sex?”

  “Kerri!” I exclaim. “Are you insane? He’s Jamie Donovan. He’s a man-whore.”

  “How do you know?”

  I guiltily look away from her. “I Googled him.”

  Playboy. Forever bachelor. Unattainable.

  Never getting married… unquote.

  Those were some of the adjectives and sentences his ex-girlfriends used to describe him. Very famous ex-girlfriends, I might add.

  “Well, why don’t you be one too?” Kerri shrugs. “You can whore it up with him. You guys can have a bunch of slutty sex together.”

  The thought excites me.

  I’m also well aware there’s a fine line between what we picture in our fantasy and what is our reality. And this is the kind of situation that is much better suited to play out as a fantasy in my mind.

  “Look, Wylder,” Kerri says, studying my face. “It was just sex. Nothing more. Just sex. And he was your first, so you’re bound to have some attachment to him, especially now that you know who he is, which totally sucks by the way. It defeats the whole purpose to why you went to the club in the first place—”