Captive Films: Season One

by Jillian Dodd

  “Are you okay?” I ask her, sitting down next to her and handing her the other throw.

  “Yeah, I’m just sitting out here wallowing in self-loathing,” she says, wrapping the blanket around her shoulders. “Wondering how my life got so off track.”

  “I wonder that sometimes too,” I admit. “And sometimes I wonder if Keatyn's right. If it's all part of a greater plan. If the universe teaches us lessons.”

  “I’ve learned a big lesson.”

  “What's that?”

  “I need to start trusting my feelings.”

  “Follow your heart, it will always lead you home?” I say, quoting a line from the last Keatyn Chronicles movie.

  “Exactly.”

  “Life isn't a fairy tale. I learned that the hard way with Bam. You think once you’ve found your Prince Charming, it will be fairytale moments, rose petals, and dancing. But no one tells you that the prince is an egotistical asshole who can't keep his dick in his pants. And that makes you wary of every other prince.”

  “I was the opposite. I had the prince and let him go.” She studies me. “Have you been wary of Dawson?”

  “When I came up here, I was so freaking pissed at him.”

  “Why?”

  “He hadn’t told me he had kids. I thought it was because he didn’t want me to meet them. I was wrong to jump to that conclusion. So what's going to happen with you and Riley? How’d you leave things?”

  “He wants us to go to Eastbrooke's Homecoming next weekend.”

  “Everyone else goes almost every year. They always look forward to it. Keatyn was really bummed her filming schedule wouldn't allow it this year. Why does he want you to go?”

  “Neither one of us have been back there since graduation. He said maybe we need to go back in order to move forward.”

  “Back to where it all began?”

  “And where it all ended,” she says sadly.

  “Do you think it will help?”

  “I’m not sure. I think it's going to bring back a lot of good memories, which will be painful.”

  “Pleasure and pain, a weird combination,” I say. “It's getting chilly out here, why don't we go inside?”

  “Should I say something to Jennifer? Apologize?”

  “Ariela, you didn't do anything. Actually, she'll probably thank you.”

  “Why?”

  “When Riley ran off after you, she and Knox were making out. She likes him.”

  “Oh, Knox, that devil. That's why he was flirting with me, wasn't it? He knew he could push Riley's buttons.”

  “I think so,” I agree.

  “Riley was very noncommittal about if we'll even be able to be friends, but . . .”

  I finish her thought. “But Knox must know Riley still has feelings for you.”

  “Unfortunately,” she sighs, “most of those feelings are hate.”

  “There's a fine line between love and hate,” I say with a laugh. “Come on, it's cold.”

  “There are headlights coming up the drive. More surprise visitors?”

  “That would be the doctor,” I tell her as we head back toward the house. “You missed all the fun. I’ll give you the short version. Riley came in the house and apologized to Jennifer and asked for ice. Keatyn fainted when she saw Riley’s bloody hand. Knox about passed out when Keatyn fainted. Aiden called the doctor. Dawson was impressed with Riley’s hand and is sending their older brother photos of it.”

  Ariela laughs. “Never a dull moment. God, I’ve missed my friends.”

  Keatyn & Aiden’s home - Asher Vineyards, Sonoma County

  KEATYN

  The doctor arrives with his portable x-ray machine and verifies that Riley’s hand is indeed broken. He wrapped it all up and gave him something for the pain.

  After telling everyone goodnight, Aiden and I retire to our room and slide into bed.

  Aiden pushes my hair back off my forehead. “It scares me when you faint.”

  “It scares me a little too.”

  “I read it's normal, though. So don’t worry.”

  “We’re lucky, Aiden.”

  He kisses the clover tattoo on his wrist, then kisses the matching one on mine. “We've always been lucky, Boots.”

  “Tonight was a flipping fiasco. I think I might have to fire Ariela. I can’t do this to Riley.”

  “Just give them a little time. He still loves her. That was pretty obvious tonight.”

  “Yeah, you’re probably right. I just worry about him.”

  “I think he’ll be fine. Sometimes a guy has to be at his lowest point to realize what really matters.”

  “Did you have a low point with me?”

  “Yes. Don’t you remember me dragging you down to the soccer field?”

  “I do. That’s when you called me dumb.”

  “That’s because you couldn’t see how crazy I was about you.”

  “Then you attacked me on the desk in your room later with your tongue. I was yours ever since that kiss.”

  He flicks his tongue across my lips. “I can’t wait to marry you. And I want to go on record and say that your grandpa is a beast. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him move so fast. Let alone take down a guy as big as Riley.”

  “My grandpa is tough.” I laugh. I gaze into Aiden’s beautiful green eyes that always speak to my soul. “I really appreciate you letting them build a house here.”

  “I knew it would make you happy,” he says, gently caressing my arm. “And I may have had an ulterior motive.”

  “What's that?”

  “I’m hoping it will make you want to spend more time here.”

  “That’s what I meant by slowing down, Aiden. I want to raise our kids here. I have a beautiful office and can work from home.”

  “Except when you’re filming.”

  “You know the movie I’m supposed to start right after Trinity?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m going to have it recast once we tell our friends that I’m pregnant. I’m lucky it’s a Captive project, so I don’t have to deal with getting out of a contract.”

  Aiden beams. “That makes me really happy.”

  “It makes me happy too. I’m also really excited about our wedding. Can you believe in a few weeks, I’ll be Mrs. Arrington?”

  He kisses me and runs his hand across my tummy. “And a mom.”

  “Having grown up with little sisters, I’m not as worried about being a good mom as I am about being a good wife.”

  He slides his hand down a little lower.

  “Maybe we should work on that.”

  Keatyn & Aiden’s home - Asher Vineyards, Sonoma County

  ARIELA

  It was a little awkward when Vanessa and I came back in the house but, fortunately, everyone went to bed soon after, leaving me alone with Riley.

  “You should probably get to bed too,” I tell him.

  “Help me to my room?” he asks, slurring slightly. The pain medication the doctor gave him is starting to kick in, and he seems a little loopy.

  “Of course,” I reply, helping him off the couch and escorting him to his bedroom. I turn on the lamp and turn down his covers.

  “You’re going to have to help me undress,” he says, giving me a lopsided grin and holding up his wrapped hand.

  “Maybe I should ask your brother to come help you.”

  He moves closer to me. “Come on, Ariela. It’s not like you haven’t done it before.”

  “That’s true.” Okay, I can do this. I’ll help him get undressed and tuck him in. It’s the least I can do.

  I grab the bottom of his cashmere V-neck, gently pulling it up over his head, then working it off his hand. “Do you want to sleep in the T-shirt you have on underneath?”

  “Have I ever slept with a shirt on?” he says, laying his hand on my hip.

  “No,” I laugh, loving how on the medication he seems so much more like the Riley I used to know. But when I slip off his T-shirt, I see that his body is not the same. Wha
t were long, lean muscles are now fuller and more defined. His four pack of abs has been replaced with a hard eight.

  “You’re staring. Like what you see?” he slurs, but his eyes have a hungry look. It’s a look I remember well from our weekend parties at Eastbrooke. We’d get a little high, a little drunk, and then sneak off somewhere to have sex.

  “It’s obvious you still work out,” I say, noncommittally, while fighting the urge to run my fingers across his new muscles. “Let’s get these pants off and get you into bed. You’re slurring a bit, so the medicine must be kicking in. Why don’t you sit on the bed first, so I can take your shoes off.”

  He does as I ask, so I slip off his shoes and socks, bring him back to standing, and remove his slacks. All that’s left on him is a pair of boxer briefs that leave nothing to the imagination. And I’m trying really hard not to look.

  “Okay, hop in bed.” I pull back the comforter, making it easy for him. And praying that he doesn’t say—

  “I always sleep naked. You know that.”

  Yes, I do know that. And that’s all I can think about.

  “I think tonight it would be best to leave these underwear things on,” I stutter and motion to them with my hand. “If you would need something in the middle of the night, it would be hard for you to put them back on by yourself.”

  “Are you afraid of what might happen if you take them off?”

  “Riley, just a few hours ago, you hated me. The pain medicine is messing with you. I think you should just go to sleep now.”

  “We had a lot of sex,” he states, his eyes playful.

  “Yes. Yes, we did.” I gulp. Why did I agree to help him? “Please, Riley, just get in bed.”

  He uses his good hand to push the boxers off his hip. Fortunately for me—or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it, he can’t get the other side to cooperate and leaves them on.

  “I’m tired,” he says, slipping under the sheet. “Will you lie down with me?”

  “I, uh, I’m not sure that’s such a good—”

  “Just lie down with me until I go to sleep,” he says, my heart feeling like it’s being squeezed.

  I need to get back to my dorm, Riley.

  Don’t leave until I go to sleep, kitty. I don’t like it when you leave.

  “Okay,” I say, lying next to him. He puts his good hand on top of my thigh and closes his eyes.

  “I love you, kitty,” he mutters.

  Keatyn & Aiden’s home - Asher Vineyards, Sonoma County

  DAWSON

  “Well, that was the most exciting dinner party I've been to in a while,” Vanessa says entering my bedroom.

  “It's about to get more exciting.” I push her up against the door. “First, I need you. Now.”

  My lips crash into hers. I can barely maintain control, like that kind of fury that makes you see red.

  Only this is a fury for her.

  I pin her arms against the door, push up her dress, and slide my fingers roughly across her pussy.

  Our lips never leave one another’s as I fuck her up against the door.

  A few minutes later, we collapse onto the bed.

  “You’re amazing,” I tell her.

  “You’re pretty amazing yourself. The way you picked me up. It was different.”

  “Different how?”

  “I mean, not to compare you to my ex, but he wasn’t a very big guy. Only about five-nine. My height.”

  I grin.

  “Why are you grinning at me?”

  “I’m six-three,” is all I say.

  “If you’re wondering if you’re bigger, here,” she reaches down, grabbing my balls. “The answer is a resounding yes. I also like how when you pick me up you feel solid. Not like I might topple you over.”

  “You? You barely weigh anything.”

  “Oh, my. You do know how to sweet talk a girl,” she says, kissing my neck.

  She keeps kissing my neck, so I grab her hips and pull her on top of me.

  She leans down, her long hair falling across her face, and kisses me. This time, more urgently.

  My body quickly responds, going from relaxed to taut, and I slide her on top of my dick.

  “Do you like being on top?” I ask.

  “Yes, but I was thinking there are some other things we haven’t tried yet.”

  “Hmm, you’re right. I wouldn’t want you to get bored,” I tease, taking one of her nipples between my teeth. Then I flip her over and pin her underneath me.

  “I will admit, I used to think this position meant boring. Not with you.”

  “I don’t think it will ever be boring with you,” I tell her, truthfully. But then I flip her over and pull her up on her knees.

  “Oh, Dawson,” she says, as I slide two fingers into her.

  I push my chest tight into her back, almost spooning her.

  As I rub my fingers roughly across her wetness, she moans again.

  “Now, Dawson,” she says, and she doesn’t have to ask twice.

  Later, we’re thoroughly exhausted and tangled in the sheets.

  “I won a sex position of the day calendar at our Christmas white elephant exchange,” she says. “I’ve never used it.”

  “Are you suggesting we do?”

  She giggles. “It might be fun.”

  “At the rate we’re going, we’ll blow through that thing in a month.”

  “You think you can do 365 positions in thirty days? That’s over ten a day.”

  I give her ass a little slap. “Are you suggesting I couldn’t? Are you challenging me?”

  “Maybe,” she says, raising an eyebrow.

  “I accept. But if you win, you have to come home with me for Thanksgiving.”

  “I don’t know if I can. I wouldn’t want my dad to be alone.”

  “We could bring him too.”

  “Thanksgiving is well over a month away.”

  “Are you thinking we won’t still be . . .” I say, not wanting to finish the sentence.

  “Do you think we will?”

  “I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t. The girls loved meeting you. Ava told me you were really pretty and asked if you were a movie star too.”

  “Really? They’re both such nice girls. Although, I think you might have to lock Harlow in her room until she’s twenty. She’s a natural flirt.”

  “I know. She already has Dallas’ boys wrapped around her little finger.”

  “Can I ask you a personal question, Dawson?”

  “Sure.”

  “You said something that’s stuck with me.”

  “What’s that?”

  “That I was the best kiss you’d ever had.”

  “What’s wrong with that?” I smile, while running my hand down her side.

  “Isn’t that kind of disrespectful to your wife? To say I’m the best?”

  “Hmm.” I frown. “Yeah, I suppose it is. My wife should have been the best kiss of my life or why did I marry her, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I feel like I’ve known you forever, Vanessa. I forget that you don’t know the details of my life. Whitney and I had a long history. We dated in high school until around the end of our junior year when she broke up with me. It was hard on me. I thought I loved her. Once I was out of the relationship, I started to realize that I was immature and what we had wasn’t what love should be. She was manipulative, controlling, and needy all at the same time. My freshman year in college, she came back into my life. We hung out and had sex twice using condoms that she gave me. A short time later, she told me she was pregnant.”

  “And you married her? It sounds like she got pregnant on purpose.”

  “I told you she was manipulative. I wasn’t going to marry her. My family told me over and over not to marry her. And I didn’t until after Ava was born. Anyone who doesn’t believe in insta-love hasn’t held their baby in their arms. Whitney told me if I wanted to be part of the baby’s life, we’d be getting married. So, we did.”

&nb
sp; “But you could have sued for custody or gotten visitation rights.”

  “I could have, but I didn’t. I wanted to be with her every day. And, surprisingly, we got along pretty well. I was determined to make the best of it and we had Harlow a few years later.”

  “How did she die?”

  “She committed suicide.”

  “Oh, Dawson. I’m so sorry,” she says, tears glistening in her eyes. “I just found out today that my mom committed suicide.”

  I pull her close and run my hand across her silky hair. “When did that happen?”

  “When I was in kindergarten.”

  “Harlow was in kindergarten when Whitney died.”

  “I feel bad for the girls for losing their mother, but I can say that my dad and I are very close because of it.”

  “And he just now told you it was suicide?”

  “It was ruled an accidental overdose when it happened. She suffered from depression and mixed her medicine with alcohol. When I was going through the old stuff at my dad’s today, I found a box full of letters she wrote to me. Like for when I got married or got my period. My dad thought it was an accident until he found them a few weeks after she died.”

  “But you just saw them for the first time today?”

  “Yes. My dad didn’t give them to me. I can see why, now. It looks like she started writing them when she took the pills because some were neat and very coherent. Others were messy and didn’t really make sense.”

  “Still, it must have been tough to take.”

  She nods. “Your daughters seem so happy. It’s hard to believe they lost their mom.”

  “The first few months were really hard on them. And me.”

  She brushes her fingers through my hair and kisses me. “Probably hardest on you. Is that why you wished for forgiveness? Do you feel like it was your fault?”

  “Let’s talk about happier things,” I say, changing the subject. The last thing I want to talk about when I’m in bed with a beautiful woman is the mess Whitney left me with. “Like these,” I say, trailing my finger across her nipples.

  MONDAY, OCTOBER 6th

  Captive Films - Santa Monica