I nodded, not even having to think about the answer. “All the time. I felt bad for me. Bad for him. It was like I had to live this lie with him in the bedroom. Like I made a promise that he was pleasing me and in reality, he wasn’t. Then again, he promised he’d marry me and look what happened there.”
Pierce gave a small hm sound, seemingly deep in thought. “What about you?” I asked.
“What about me?”
“Well, you know why I’m here in Croatia… jilted bride, left at the altar, all that. Why are you here?”
He shrugged. “Vacation.”
The answer was curt. Short. And so unlike the Pierce I’d come to know today. “Just… vacation?” I prodded a little deeper. The tight lines around his eyes and downturned corners of his mouth told a different story.
He sighed, taking another sip of wine. “I was up for a role in this new Jude Fisher, Ash Livingston film. Got as far as the final callbacks, but didn’t get it.” He shrugged as though it was no big deal… but it obviously was to him. “I just needed to get out of LA for a few days. Korcula is my happy place.”
My stomach knotted. Korcula is my happy place. That was what my dad used to say. He said that he’d never seen my mom so happy as she was when they visited Croatia. A lump knotted in my throat and no matter how hard I swallowed, it stayed lodged right there. There was something magical about this little island… hell, maybe even the whole country. And if I closed my eyes, I could almost feel my parent’s presence here with me. Watching over me.
The silence rolled between us like storm clouds, the quiet permeating to my bones. This was it. This was the goodbye. We’d run out of things to talk about and I’d overstayed my welcome.
I licked my lips and set the wine glass down. What the hell was it about him that he could chip away at my hard veneer and reveal my vulnerability lurking beneath? “Well,” I said, standing and smoothing my dress over my hips. “I should probably be going.”
Dragging a hand through his thick, light brown hair, Pierce stood as well, rushing over to me. “Wait,” he said and I could hear the urgency in his voice. “Stay with me.”
I swallowed, my mind whirring. “The night?” I asked.
He swallowed. “The week. Stay with me this week here in Croatia. We’ll go to dinner. Dancing. We’ll take a boat out on the Adriatic Sea…”
“Oh, God.” I clutched my stomach. “Please no more boats.”
He smiled, but didn’t laugh and instead, took my hands. “No more boats. Just an amazing vacation with the two of us. And orgasms. So many orgasms.”
I didn’t answer right away. Not because the answer was no… what woman in her right mind would say no to a mind-blowing vacation with Pierce Whitley? But mostly, I was stunned. He mistook my silence though and said, “Please. After I didn’t get that part, I was crushed. I just needed a break. A breath of fresh air… Emma, that’s what you’ve been. A breath of fresh air.”
I tilted my head, studying him as hot breath trickled from my lips. “I would love to stay the week with you.”
His grin widened and it was so boyishly handsome that I could have melted into a puddle right there. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
He leaned down, his fingers curling around my jaw. I felt the soft rasp of his stubble against my flesh as he kissed me. I remembered that rasp between my legs, scraping against my sensitive skin and excitement shuddered down my spine. He licked my mouth, teasing me with a stroke of his tongue, and behind my breastbone, my heart was pounding so loud I was sure he could hear it.
The world melted away and I relaxed into his arms. Right now… for this week, there was only Pierce. Only me. Only sinful pleasure and carnal lust.
I moaned into the kiss and felt his grin against my lips.
He leaned in, whispering in my ear. “Was that my official acceptance to be a part of your ‘honeymoan?’”
“You were accepted the moment I saw you on the ferry.”
Epilogue
Pierce
I’m not a bad guy, despite what the tabloids might tell you. I don’t lie. I don’t cheat—well, okay, sometimes I’m the one other women cheat with, but I, myself, have never cheated on a girlfriend. Perhaps, that’s because I haven’t had a girlfriend since I was nineteen. Not an exclusive one at least, and not one that wasn’t just for publicity.
My agent was convinced a year and a half ago that I needed a faux girlfriend for the paparazzi. To give them something to speculate and report on. Jesus, was that a disaster. But that’s not the point. As I was saying… I’m not a bad guy. I’m also not a good guy. I’m the bad boy that America hates to love.
And then I met Emma—and everything changed. What was supposed to be a one night fling, a challenge to help her achieve her first orgasm, was now turning into a whole week together. Which was crazy… I didn’t spend a whole week with any woman. Hell, I didn’t even typically go for seconds.
Until now.
I glanced down at my lap, where Emma was fast asleep. We’d spent the night fucking and had decided to watch Friends, dubbed in Croatian which was weirdly the funniest shit ever. Her blond hair shined, even in the midnight darkness of my hotel suite and it fanned out across my thigh. She looked sexy as hell, her lush mouth parted as she took shallow breaths in and out. Those lips begged to kissed. Fucked. Ravished.
Her muscular legs peeked out from beneath my button-down shirt which she slid on after we had finished fucking. What was it that was so sexy about a woman wearing men’s clothing?
To sum up, she was breathtakingly, mesmerizingly, gorgeous.
And beyond that… smart. Funny. Enjoyable to talk to. And I wasn’t growing tired of her. I haven’t laughed this hard or felt this comfortable around a woman in years. Maybe ever. Emma was special. I felt it immediately from the moment I saw her on the ferry. Sure, I mostly wanted to fuck her. As soon as I saw that text message from her friend stating she had never had an orgasm, I almost didn’t believe it. And once I learned it was true? All I could think of was: Challenge Accepted.
How could a woman as beautiful and vibrant as her have never had an orgasm? I just… I had to have her.
I swallowed hard, looking down at her, ignoring the sounds of Ross and Rachel fighting in another language, and I threaded my fingers through her hair in soft strokes. Her breath was even, her black lashes fanned across her pink, flushed cheeks. With her asleep like this, I could stare all I want. It was almost worth being exhausted tomorrow morning if I could memorize every dip and curve of her body. Every line of her face. The smell of her freshly washed hair and sound of her even breaths.
We’d spent two days together so far, non-stop. Sightseeing. Making love. Eating amazing Croatian food. And we had three more days together.
“Why am I not growing tired of you?” I whispered to no one. It was scary as shit.
My cell phone vibrated on the arm of the couch beside me. It was almost one in the morning here in Croatia, which meant… what? Four pm in LA? Ugh, I hated time zone math.
I looked at the glowing screen and found my agent, Roxeanne’s name blinking back at me. I rolled my eyes. This was her fourth call in the last day. I hadn’t had any other auditions outside of the Silhouette Studios film in weeks. And that role was given away to my fucking rival, Chase Danvers. He got almost every role I wanted this year. Forget the fact that I won Golden Globes when he didn’t. And that I had beaten him out for the Best Supporting Oscar statue on my shelf at home. What did any of that matter if I got turned down for the roles I wanted time and time again?
Well, fuck it. Chase could have the new Ash Livingston movie. It just meant I’d have to fight harder for my next role. But for this week? No more work. I sighed and slid my finger across the ignore button, sending it to voicemail. Again.
And instead, I turned my attention back to Emma. This was supposed to be one week only. One week of passion. Vacation sex. A fling.
Problem was, my head was already filled with thoughts of keeping her.
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Bonus Chapter
Bonus Chapter (from Katana’s upcoming book, Role Play, #2 in the Silhouette Studios series!)
Meanwhile, back in Los Angeles…
Ash
I sat in my trailer on my couch, with a cup of coffee, taking twenty minutes to myself before the craziness of the day started. We were thirty minutes behind schedule, which was to be expected when you had this many extras on set, but it was still driving me nuts. I had my cell phone balanced on my knee as it buzzed, ringing. “This is Ash Livingston,” I answered.
“Ash,” a woman’s voice on the line said. “This is Roxanne Yorkshire, Pierce Whitley’s agent.”
I immediately jumped to my feet. “Roxanne,” I said, pacing in my trailer. “Thank you for returning my calls. As I mentioned in my messages—”
“You want Pierce,” she stated simply, her voice tinged with hard indifference. “You made a mistake in not casting him. Yes, I got all four of your messages.”
I swallowed and peered out the window as some of our extras started gathering, flipping through the racks of costumes with Lucy helping pass out items to the actors. I felt a smile curve on my mouth as I watched her work, her brown hair pulled into a smooth ponytail, and she wore the same outfit as yesterday—white t-shirt and jeans. “We do,” I answered. “You might not believe me, but I wanted to cast Pierce immediately. He was perfect as Leo’s brother, Jack. But powers that be—”
“I don’t need to know the whys of this,” she said. “I need to know that his contract will be secure. And that his pay will be double.”
I sucked in a silent breath. Double was significant and I didn’t have the rank to authorize that. “We want to do everything we can to secure him in this role,” I said. “His contract will be as secure as Jude’s which is the best we offer to any actor. I don’t know that I can guarantee double—”
“Pierce would be coming home from a super secret project happening abroad for this part. A part you originally didn’t offer him even though you should have. You need to make it worth his while to walk away from this other project.”
That wasn’t what I heard. I had heard he was on vacation in Croatia. The rumor mills in Hollywood are strong and a few little birds told me that he’d been pretty upset he hadn’t gotten the role here and that’s why he left the country. Either way, I didn’t think pointing this out would help my case any, so I kept quiet. Instead, I clamped my hand to my hips as Lucy looked up from behind the rolling wardrobe rack and caught my eye in the window. The corners of her mouth tugged into a semblance of a smile and she pushed her glasses higher onto her nose before looking down at her clipboard.
My eyes fluttered closed and I turned my back to the window. “I understand that,” I said. Pierce had the upper hand right now. Hell, even if she was lying about his reasons for being in Europe, it didn’t matter. We wanted him and she knew it. It wasn’t all that frequent that studios recasted movies after filming began, but it was known to happen. Hell, Back the Future refilmed half the damn movie with Michael J. Fox when they realized Eric Stoltz wasn’t working as Marty McFly. Bottom line… it happened. Just not very often. “Here’s what I can do. He’ll get the best contract that we offer talent. And I can authorize a twenty-five percent pay increase from our original offer.” That was literally the maximum I was allowed to offer without executive approval. I held my breath, awaiting her answer.
“Pierce Whitley is an award-winning actor. He’s won two Emmys, three Golden Globes. And Best Supporting Actor at the Oscars last year. He can do it again for you. Call me back when you can offer fifty—”
“Wait, wait, wait, don’t hang up.” I lowered my forehead to the wall, my brain spinning. “Pierce Whitley doesn’t want another Best Supporting Actor nod,” I said, carefully.
Roxanne snorted. “The hell he doesn’t—”
“Hear me out. He wants a Best Actor Academy Award. It’s time for him to step out of the shadow of other actors. To break out from the sidekick role and earn his starring role.”
She paused. “I’m listening.”
“If Pierce takes this role, then he can have his pick of any my next scripts. Any of the leading roles are his to choose. And if he wins Best Supporting Actor at the Oscars for this role, I can get him that extra 25% bonus, bringing him up to that 50% pay increase.” I needed to get clearance from Richard for both those options, but I was ninety nine percent sure he’d be on board.
Silence. I waited with baited breath, facing the back window of my trailer once more. Lucy was gone from the open wardrobe tent. Extras in costume milled around and I saw Kelly come out from somewhere in the back, Marly following behind her, dressed in casual wear.
“I’ll consult with Pierce and get back to you,” she said.
“Level with me, Roxanne… will he go for it?”
“I don’t know for sure. It’s a good offer, though. But you know how actors are… especially when they’re butt hurt about not getting a role.”
I grinned and did a silent fist pump into the air. Oh, he would take it. That’s a good fucking deal and one I could guarantee no European film was offering him, if there even was a European film. “You let me know as soon as you can.” Now I just needed to get Richard on board.
We each hung up and I jumped into the air, doing a little Michael Jackson spin and came face to face with Lucy standing in the doorway of my trailer, staring at me.
I yelped, way more high pitched than I wish she’d heard. “Lucy,” I shouted and tossed my phone onto my couch.
“Sorry!” She held out a hand and even though her mouth twisted into a regretting expression, her eyes sparked. “The door was left ajar and I was sent to tell you the extras and stand ins are ready for you.”
Fuck me. She looked gorgeous. I couldn’t stop staring at her big, brown eyes or plump, pink lips and the way her gaze stayed down on the floor as she sheepishly edged her toe along the seam of the carpet. I took a few steps toward her and froze, stopping myself when I was just a foot away.
“You got home okay last night?” she asked.
I nodded. “I did.”
“Me too.” She rolled her eyes in spite of herself. “Well, duh. You knew that. But I mean, I got inside okay.” A wisp of hair slipped free of her ponytail and fell across her razor sharp cheekbone. My fingers twitched, aching to brush it back; to feel that silken skin beneath my touch. To wrap that hair around my fist and yank her head back before I ravaged her mouth with my tongue.
“Good,” I whispered and took another step closer.
She swallowed and her pink tongue darted out, swiping nervously across those full, pouty lips in a way that drove me wild. But she wasn’t doing it to be sexy—it was unassuming which only made it that much more enticing. “I mean, I didn’t sleep all that well. Nerves maybe. I hate leaving things unsaid and then it’s awkward—”
A smile curved my mouth and I swallowed a chuckle. She was so damn cute. The nervous babbling, the way she pushed her glasses higher when she didn’t know what to do with hands. It was all so adorably sexy.
Her eyes widened. “Are you laughing at me?” she asked, incredulous.
“Of course not.” I shook my head, but couldn’t help it when the snort of laughter escaped.
Her mouth gaped. “You are. You’re totally laughing at me!” She reached out and smacked my shoulder.
I didn’t hold back the laughter this time, and when she moved to smack me again, I caught her wrist gently. “You talk a lot when you’re nervous, you know that?”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah. In my twenty-two years alive, no one’s ever told me that.”
Twenty-two. Fuck me. She was only twenty-two? On top of the litany of other reasons to stay at arm’s length from Lucy, our age gap was among the top. My laughter faded and what was left was a thick silence between us, my hand still resting on her wrist.
I moved my thumb, stroking in quick, soft movements and watched as her breath hitched, shifting her breasts with the movement. Two
pebbled nubs formed from beneath her white shirt and I hissed a breath, desperately wanting to lower myself and draw those nipples into my mouth through the thin layer of cotton.
“Ash,” she said, blinking slowly up at me. “What happened last night?”
I leaned closer, my groin tightening. “I got too into my own head,” I answered, intentionally vague. “It happens a lot to me,” I admitted.
She nodded as though she understood. But how could she? I barely understood myself. Then with a sigh, she shook her head. “I can’t do this,” she whispered. “This hot and cold thing. It’s too—it’s just too similar to another situation I was in.”
My blood ran cold. Another situation. Another boyfriend? Another lover? What the fuck did she mean by that? But I couldn’t blame her. She was right—it wasn’t fair to her. We needed to keep our distance.
So then, why the fuck couldn’t I stop stroking her wrist? Why couldn’t I let go? And why did I find myself inexplicably drawing closer and closer to her mouth.
“So… friends?” I asked.
She nodded. Our words said friends, but the way our eyes locked and the molecules around us buzzed with energy said something else entirely.
“Friends,” she repeated.
The walkie talkie on her hip buzzed and Kelly’s voice cut through our silence. “Lucy, where the fuck are you guys? Do I have to do everything myself?”
I cleared my throat and stepped back. It was just the sobering wake up call we both needed to snap out of it. Lucy snatched the walkie talkie and spoke into it, “We’re coming out in a second. He was on a call.”
I shook my head. We all had to put up with some shitty bosses in this industry and every industry. Kelly certainly wasn’t the worst I’d seen. But even still, I felt for Lucy. “It’s going to be a long three months for you.”
She gave me a small smile. “At least I have tomorrow off.”
Famously Bad: (A Movie Star Romance Novella) Page 4