Before A Perfect World: Movie Trilogy, Book Two (The Movie 2)

by Kimberly Adams

  “Surprise!”

  With a grin, he pulled away, his eyes still locked in mine as he pressed a delicate kiss to my forehead. “Ready?”

  I could only nod, letting him lace his fingers in mine.

  “Happy birthday, kid,” Frank called, making a beeline for the bar. The Los Angeles skyline lit the room with twinkling lights, providing the perfect backdrop for my first official event with Keaton.

  “Keaton,” Kathy cried, her smiling eyes darting to me, and then back to him expectantly. “Vivian. So glad you could make it.”

  I flushed, going full-on hives as I remembered the last time I’d seen Kathy; I’d ended up leaving LA with Matthew.

  Her cunning gaze told me that she trusted me about as much as she liked me.

  “Thanks,” I answered meekly, feeling Keaton’s grip tighten on mine.

  “Everyone,” Keaton called over the laughter and celebration, commanding the room with one word, “thank you for this. For those of you who remember me last year at this time, you know that I wasn’t at my best. I want to thank you all for standing by me, and believing in me, even when I was too fucked-up to believe in myself.”

  “Make us a blockbuster, kid!” Frank called, and I recognized Max as he raised his glass to Keaton.

  “A blockbuster.” Keaton turned to me, and I took a steadying breath, forcing a brilliant smile. “I wouldn’t be where I am today without this woman right here. Since you’re my closest friends-”

  “Only friends,” Max riled, encouraging a rumble of laughter from the crowd.

  “Only friends,” Keaton corrected, grinning, “I would like to formally introduce my fiancée, Vivian Hale. Many of you already know that she will star opposite Ash Salter in Round-Up. Many of you have probably read that she’s got my family in here.” His hand slipped around my waist lovingly, and he pressed a kiss to my temple. “That is also true. But what you haven’t read in a tabloid is that Vivian is beyond talented. I don’t have enough words to describe her ability, so I’ll just show you all when the cameras start rolling next week.”

  A cheer erupted in the crowded office, and I beamed, turning into his arms.

  Nothing he could have said would have made me feel more like a star at that moment. He waved his hand at everyone, continuing to kiss me. “Party,” he ordered, and his demand was met with fits of laughter.

  For the next solid hour, I moved with Keaton around the room as he introduced me to everyone. After about the fifth or sixth person, I was starting to feel unusually self-conscious. I couldn’t help but suspect that many of the women were sizing me up, and finally, one honest comment confirmed my suspicions.

  “You’re a pretty little thing,” a woman named Marianne announced, her curvy body and perfect hair doing everything to make me feel as inadequate as possible. “I never thought you’d be into country girls, Keaton,” she commented, outright flirted, with him at my side.

  “More like the girl next door,” a deep voice added. I turned, widening my eyes as Ash Salter joined us. “Every man’s fantasy.”

  Marianne both scowled and forced a smile at the same time, leaving her looking like a constipated cocker spaniel. “Right.”

  “Hi, Ash,” I managed, and he bent to kiss my cheek.

  “Hey, country girl,” he teased. Keaton’s grip on my hand tightened from possessive to uncomfortable, and I turned to him.

  “Glad you could make it, Salter,” Keaton offered politely.

  “Happy birthday,” he replied, his eyes still set on my face. “I’ll catch up with you two later, okay?”

  “Okay,” I breathed, watching him turn to make his way through a sea of drooling women.

  “I’m not sure that I’m okay with you being Ash Salter’s girl-next-door fantasy. I may have to recast him.”

  I turned to Keaton, ready to launch into a tirade of protests, but I saw that he was grinning.

  Finding my confidence, finally, I cocked my hip to the side, raising one eyebrow. “But I’m not his girl next door. I’m your girl, in your bed. And I can’t wait to go there tonight.”

  He tugged me against his chest, his eyes darkening.

  “Five minutes.”

  I took that to mean we’d stayed long enough.

  It wasn’t until we were back in the limo and almost to his apartment when I realized that he’d had a lot to drink in a very short time. I opened my mouth to say something, and then stopped, remembering his ‘nagging’ comment from earlier.

  Did it really matter if he drank? He seemed to be functioning just fine. I tried and failed to find the origin of the uncomfortable feeling deep in my stomach, not sure what to make of his ability to drink so much, so fast, and yet still appear completely together.

  “I’m proud of you,” he said, interrupting my thoughts. “You really held your own tonight. Even before Salter decided to swoop in and be your knight in shining armor.”

  “I could have handled Marianne,” I agreed, leaning against his chest and listening to his heartbeat. “Did you sleep with her?”

  His hand stilled over my hair for a moment, and then continued through my long, auburn locks.

  “Yes.”

  I didn’t expect him to be so honest. I didn’t want an answer, and I was instantly pissed at myself for even asking.

  While he waited for my reaction, I took a deep breath.

  “And the… other women there? Did you sleep with any of them?”

  Fucking curiosity.

  “No wait. Don’t answer that.”

  “Vivian.” He lifted my face so my eyes met his. “It’s you and me now. Not Fowler, not my bitch ex-wife, not any of those women back there. You. Me. And our baby.”

  “I know. Hormones, vagina, et cetera, et cetera.”

  “My favorite parts of you.”

  “You’re an ass.”

  “I’m your ass.”

  I giggled, reaching for his kiss.

  We walked together from the limo to his apartment building, and even in the darkness I could see that he lived very extravagantly. The complex was huge, new, and had all the amenities that I’d dreamed about for my own LA apartment someday.

  “Stop.”

  I paused just outside his luxurious apartment door, turning to him.

  “What?”

  “Look at me.” He shifted our bags, nodding toward the open entryway of his lavish place. “Once we walk through these doors together, this is our apartment. Yours and mine. Until we find the perfect home to raise our family in. Okay?”

  “Okay,” I agreed softly.

  Before I realized what was happening, he dropped our bags and scooped me up and into his arms. Laughing, I clung to his neck as he carried me through the doorway.

  “Welcome home,” he whispered against my ear.

  Center Stage

  K

  I woke up the next morning to the sound of Vivian puking.

  Blinking, I sat up, watching her through the open bathroom door as she bent over the sink to brush her teeth. As she turned toward the bed, her animated groan forced a smile to my face.

  “Fuck. I wanted to wake you up all sexy-like on your birthday.”

  She crawled in the bed next to me, and I grinned, nestling my head between her breasts.

  “Oh, you’re sexy. Even your puke is sexy.”

  “Ugh.”

  “You okay, kiddo?”

  She nodded, but I could tell she wanted to say more.

  “What’s wrong?” I prodded.

  “Nothing. I’m… glad I got sick. I was barely sick at all yesterday. And then I started to worry.”

  “About the baby?”

  “Yes.”

  I inhaled slowly, loving the way her skin smelled.

  “Well, bad things happen to good people. Like what happened between you and Fowler.” I brushed my thumb over her cheek. “And since I’m a complete asshole, my baby will be just fine, and I’ll get everything I ever wanted. That’s the way it works.”

  “You’re not an
asshole,” she protested, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “Stop saying that. You deserve happiness, Keaton.”

  “Go put your prom dress on. I want to fuck you in it.”

  She laughed softly, squirming beneath my lips as I kissed her breasts.

  “It’s too pretty. I don’t want to ruin it.”

  “Um, perhaps you didn’t get the memo. It’s my birthday.”

  She groaned, laughing again. “Jesus, Keaton. Fine. But don’t wrinkle it. Or… stain it.”

  I only wagged my eyebrows at her, reaching up to air quote. “Don’t ‘stain’ it?”

  “Get off me,” she cried, giggling.

  She retrieved the gown from the door, disappearing into the bathroom. I jumped up excitedly, hurrying to the other bathroom to brush my teeth.

  Stark naked, I docked my phone in the speaker and turned to the camera on the mantle of the fireplace in my bedroom.

  I hit RECORD, making sure the red light was on.

  “Amazed” by Lonestar began, and she threw the bathroom door open, attempting to hold the bust of her gown up.

  “Really?” she laughed, gesturing to the speaker. “Nice,” she added, nodding to my eager erection.

  “What? This was my senior prom theme song. I ended up having to leave early because my mom tried to drive into town for more booze and hit a stop sign.”

  She froze, her smile falling. “What? Oh, Keaton…”

  “Nope, it worked out perfectly. My date got knocked up that night, and it wasn’t me, so close call. Thanks Mom.”

  She took a steadying breath, visibly forcing the look of pity from her expression.

  “Well? Am I pretty?”

  I took her in, my eyes roving over her from head to toe. I remembered the gowns that she tried on before Luke’s wedding and knew her size perfectly. I moved behind her, brushing her hair to the side and running my hands over her bare back.

  “You’re pretty.”

  I zipped slowly, lowering my lips to her skin. She shivered, leaning back against my chest.

  “I feel like a princess.”

  The gown was white with a black, floral design complimenting the beautiful cut. “Wear your hair down tonight. Wavy.”

  “Whatever you say, director.”

  I swayed with her to the music, slowly drawing my hands over her sides to gather her skirt. Turning her to the mirrored dresser to my right, I collected the yards of fabric, bunching the material at her waist.

  She wore nothing beneath the gown.

  “I’m recording us.”

  She stiffened, her eyes darting around the room. “Right now?”

  “Yes. Just do what I say.”

  “What do you want me to… do?” she asked tentatively, gasping as I wrapped my fingers around her leg and slowly slid my hand between her thighs.

  “Look at me through the mirror. Don’t look away.”

  She nodded.

  I positioned myself just inside of her, keeping her steady gaze as I thrust.

  Her gown fell around us. I watched her eyes mask with excitement, darkening to the shade of blue that I’d grown to know so well. She was bent over the walnut dresser, fighting to keep her eyes on mine as I reached around to pinch her clit between my fingers.

  She cried out, trying to look away, but I caught her chin with my other hand, holding her face steady.

  “Watch yourself come, Vivian. Watch your expression. Focus.”

  She whimpered, losing herself in the moment as my thumb worked over her most sensitive place. The blaring music was horribly distracting, just as I’d intended, and I forced her to meet the rhythm of my driving hips.

  Flushed, her face reddened as the burning need overwhelmed her. I released her chin and fisted her hair. “Look at the camera.”

  Her lips parted, and she focused on the red dot past her own reflection, crying out through the intensity of her orgasm.

  “Wet your lips,” I growled against her ear. She did as I asked, and her tongue, through the reflection, was enough to set me off. I locked her against me and came with one last, hard thrust.

  Panting, I smiled at her through the mirror. She looked away, her face flushed. I was still hard and buried deeply inside of her.

  I kissed her soft back while pulling out, careful to hold her dress up and away from the ‘stain.’ She pulled the entire gown up and over her head, tossing it to the bed behind us.

  “Well?” I asked, and she narrowed her eyes, sending me a look of confusion through the mirror.

  “Well? Happy birthday,” she replied, smiling shyly before turning around.

  I lifted her to the dresser, tucking her legs around my waist. “Was that hot for you?”

  I knew she wasn’t used to talking about sex, and the blush in her cheeks confirmed that fact. “Yes. Always. But… the music was kind of annoying. And I was worried about my dress. And the camera.”

  “When you’re on the set,” I began, “you’re going to have a million distractions. You’re going to be focused on your movements and your expressions. I’m going to be telling you how to turn and when to moan. You’ll be hyper aware of the camera, the heat from the lights, and what parts of you are or aren’t showing. And then, you have to come without coming. Do you think you can do it?”

  She paused, her brows knitting worriedly. “It’s only one love scene, right?”

  I nodded. “I’m not fading to black on this one. I need to build the intimacy between Kristie and John.”

  She dropped her arms over my shoulders, looking down. “Great. Sounds fun. Now, I’d like for you to make love to me, not give me an acting lesson. Do you think you can do that?”

  Taken aback by her tone, I tipped her chin up to me. “Really? You’re pissed?”

  She glared, nodding toward the camera over my shoulder. “Maybe. It depends on what happens next.”

  I smirked, securing her legs around my waist and standing with her in my arms. “Well. Looks like it’s naked shower time again.”

  She giggled, relenting as I drowned her in my kiss.

  . . .

  I intended to spend the day with her in my bed, waiting until the last possible minute to get ready for the ball.

  We dozed in and out of contented sleep until her phone rang.

  I silenced the ringer quickly, moving out of the bed and letting her sleep as I glanced down at the name on the screen.

  Matthew.

  Pulling the door almost closed behind me, I walked to the kitchen, answering his call. “Vivian’s phone.”

  I could hear his frustrated sigh, and I smirked.

  “Will you please put her on the phone?” His tight words weren’t nearly as entertaining as I’d anticipated. Something about his tone was alarming, and I sensed it immediately.

  “She’s sleeping. What do you want?”

  “Have you seen the news?”

  I automatically turned to the flat screen TV above my fireplace. “No, why?”

  “Another murder.”

  I reached for the remote, pressing the power button. “Where?”

  “The park in Pennsylvania. The one by her gram, where you’re photographed proposing to her.”

  I finally turned to CNN, watching the ticker scroll along the bottom as scenes of FBI agents flashed across the screen. “A woman?”

  The victim’s photo filled the screen next.

  Holy fuck.

  “She looks like Vivian,” I choked, stepping closer to the screen.

  “I know. She hasn’t seen this yet?”

  My own phone buzzed from the kitchen counter, and I moved to the device quickly.

  Twenty-six missed calls.

  “Listen,” he began, the urgency clear in his voice. “As hard as it is for us both, we need to put this shit between us aside and think rationally here. Vivian is in danger. That much is clear. I’m sure the media will be piecing together the fact that the victim looks exactly like her soon and-”

  “Too late.” I parted my mini blinds with my thumb and
forefinger, peering out into the street below. FBI and media swarmed the front of my apartment building, and I turned back to the TV at the sound of Vivian’s name.

  “…Vivian Hale, Director Keaton Thane’s new fiancée, bears a striking resemblance to the victim. Sources say that Idlewild Park is less than an hour from Miss Hale’s grandmother’s home. Thane was photographed over the summer proposing to Hale in the exact place the victim’s body was found.”

  “Fuck me,” I murmured, watching the split-screen of the photo of me and Vivian at the park right next to the place where the FBI stood, live at the park.

  “The FBI have been to my home, questioning me. I don’t know what kind of security you have on her, but you need more. Her parents are a wreck. They’ve been worried sick all night.”

  “They questioned you?” I couldn’t make a sarcastic comment; the situation was too grave. “I’ll increase security.”

  “Good.” He cleared his throat, and I could tell whatever he was trying to say to me wasn’t easy. “Listen. You have no idea how hard it was for me to walk away from her. But I did, because I want her to be happy. I’m asking you to do the same for me.”

  “What are you talking about?” I asked absently, reaching for my jeans.

  “If she wants to come home to me, let her.”

  “This is her home. I don’t drop her off on doorsteps when she fucks up.”

  His words hardened. “No, you just cut her a check.”

  I glanced out the window again, narrowing my eyes. “Fair enough. Listen, I’m going to have to let you go. Vivian’s waiting in bed. For me.”

  I disconnected before he could say another word.

  My own phone buzzed again, and I answered Frank’s call. “What the fuck, kid! Pull yourself out of bed with her for a minute and look outside!”

  “I did. I see them.” I glanced out the window again, hearing his phone rustling as though he was walking quickly.

  “The FBI is down here, waiting to come up. I’m down here. This motherfucker is making it really personal now, in case you haven’t noticed.”