Lost and Found (Scions of Sin Book 4)

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Lost and Found (Scions of Sin Book 4) Page 7

by Taylor Holloway


  “What do you mean ‘we’re there’?” she asked blearily. “We just took off.”

  I shook my head at her. She looked adorable, although she’d probably disagree. Her hair was sticking out at every angle imaginable.

  “You slept for almost fifteen hours, Casey. Are you feeling ok?”

  She nodded and stretched and then seemed to remember something and went very still.

  “Well we better get going,” she said in a totally different, very businesslike voice. “We need to meet Zing and get filming.”

  Zing, who was waiting with a sign in the baggage area, proved to be a no-nonsense woman in her forties with a knowledge of six languages and a mind like a steel trap. She had numerous questions for the rest of the crew but seemed less interested in ‘the talent’.

  “David Breyer,” she said to me upon meeting, clearly trying out my name. “Your name rhymes with ‘mayor’ and not ‘dryer’ right?”

  I nodded.

  “Ok.” That was apparently all she needed from me. She looked at Casey seriously. “Can he lose the beard for filming? They aren’t common here. Many women dislike them, even on western men. Especially outside of Manila.”

  Casey shrugged. “That’s a decision for David, not me.”

  “I thought test audiences liked the beard?” I asked Casey.

  “They do. It’s up to you. It’s your face after all,” she replied with a smile.

  “Do you like it?” I found myself extremely interested to know. I hadn’t crushed so hard over a girl since middle school and my stupid, immature heart thudded in my chest as Casey’s gaze swept over me.

  After a second Casey nodded shyly, and a faint blush covered her cheeks. I felt suddenly much better about myself. Maybe she wasn’t as immune to me as I’d feared she might be. I resisted the urge to puff out my chest and preen.

  “Then I’m keeping it.”

  Zing rolled her eyes. “Whatever,” she grumbled disinterestedly. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  She had our filming locations mapped out in the city and ran down the overview with us like a drill sergeant. Walking out of the airport, we got started immediately.

  The first few segments were standard, getting to know a new country fare. I visited landmarks, ate street food, and tried to do it all with a smile and a good attitude. Never mind that I’d literally just gotten off a nineteen-hour flight with almost no sleep. Never mind the fact that the woman standing just to the right of Curtis and Daphne behind the camera had utterly transfixed me and every time I looked at her I got tongue-tied. Never mind that I could really use a shower and a nap and barely knew what I was saying or doing. If I thought I’d been a trained monkey before, I’d severely underestimated what on-location reality show filming would be like.

  “…and once we get out of Manila, looking for the flame-leaf fern is exactly what I plan on doing,” I finally finished some eight and a half hours after beginning filming. I was barely coherent anymore, so I prayed the take was good.

  Casey and Curtis exchanged a nod.

  “Great job,” Curtis said to Trevor and Daphne. “That’s a wrap for today.”

  We all breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Thanks to Zing’s excellent planning, we’d completed our filming day right in front of our hotel, so it would be easy to go inside and collapse.

  “So, who’s up for drinks?” Trevor asked as we checked in at the hotel. Casey shook her head but Zing, Curtis, and Daphne all nodded as if it was a perfectly ordinary day we’d just had. There was no way I had it in me.

  Casey and I ended up walking up to our rooms together, leaving the rest of the crew to their bad decisions in the hotel bar below. I almost said something about the last time that Casey and I had been alone in a hotel, but managed not to do or say anything too stupid.

  The elevator ride up to our floor was quiet. Casey looked at me out of the corner of her eye as we walked to our separate rooms, and I almost let her go into her room alone except that she turned and looked at me. In that moment, my control, the careful distance I’d been keeping from her crumbled. She looked at me like she wanted me to stop her from going in there alone and shoved her key back into her purse.

  “David, I think we should talk,” she said. I disagreed. We needed to do so much more than talk.

  I walked right up over to her and kissed her, pinning her to her door with my hands against her wrists at waist level. I slanted my mouth over hers and finally took what I needed from her, and she surrendered instantly, melting forward against my body and opening her lips to my tongue.

  There was no chance of holding back. I pulled her across the hall and into my room, leaving the luggage in the hallway and thinking about one thing only: Casey. Naked. In my bed.

  Once there was a locked door between the rest of the world and us, I was pulling at her clothes and she was pulling at mine. We undressed hurriedly, pulling off articles of as we backed up to the bed. With every layer of fabric she peeled off her slim curves, Casey looked even more radiant. Her soft, white skin was like silk under my fingertips and she shivered and leaned into my touch like she needed this as much as me.

  My heart pounded against my ribcage like a timpani drum as I pulled Casey’s camisole over her head. Her perky, round tits jutted out above her tiny waist and they swayed hypnotically as I guided her to the edge of the bed. She lay back obligingly as I pulled her pants down, and I relished the thrill of finding her cotton panties soaked through.

  “You’re sure you want this?” I asked just to be sure. I had to be sure I hadn’t cut her off from saying something too important. She’d been so businesslike for the past month. But now she was lying on her back before me, spreading her legs and arching to display her whole body. Like she needed me the way I needed her.

  Casey sat up and pulled at my belt buckle in answer, unzipping my pants and then leaning forward with an open, seeking mouth. She used her mouth and tongue to convince me of just how eager she was. I watched her red lips cover me, watched her pink tongue twine around every inch, and could hardly doubt her resolve. Casey’s wide eyes stared up into mine as she hollowed her cheeks and sucked deeply, testing her gag reflex over and over. She was teasing, but I was going to come in her mouth within moments if I didn’t put a stop to this now.

  I leaned her back onto the edge of the bed and pushed an eager finger between her legs, feeling her tight body relaxing into my touch and accepting the invasion into her most sensitive parts. A second finger joined the first and soon she was arching under me, rocking back and forth into my hand while I lazily flicked her clit with my thumb. She pinched her own nipples into even harder peaks as I watched. I wanted to see how many times I could make her come.

  Her first orgasm atop my hand had her gasping and her porcelain skin turned pink. I withdrew my fingers when her tremors finally stopped and rubbed my tip against her soaking wet entry. She stared up at me openmouthed, working her knees farther apart and eyeing me hungrily.

  Far be it from me to keep her waiting. I lifted her left leg to angle her on her side and entered her with as much gentleness as I had left. In this position with her on the edge of the bed, it was easy to manipulate her lower body, and I made full use of her malleability. As her tight inner muscles pulsed around me, I grasped her ankles and drove into her.

  Urgently, desperately, I thrust into her soft and giving body. Casey felt so exquisitely hot and tight around me, and with every answering thrust of her hips, I could tell she was driven just as mad as me. We found an eager rhythm, pushing harder and harder against each other. When her eyes went wild and vacant again I was at the edge of my own climax, and I emptied into her while she moaned my name between clenched teeth.

  In the ensuing quiet, as our pulses slowed, and Casey cuddled against my chest, I felt a thousand things I wanted to say to her start and die in my throat. I couldn’t find the right words to express what I was feeling for her in that perfect moment. So instead of talking, instead of facing an inevitable conversatio
n about what this meant (or didn’t mean), we both just fell asleep. Maybe I should have felt like a coward, but I couldn’t bring myself to regret a thing.

  11

  Casey

  Pregnancy tests are not complicated. First, you pee on the little stick. Then, you wait. One little line in the box means not pregnant; two little lines in the box means pregnant. My test didn’t have any lines on it. I stared at it in confusion, then back at the instructions, then back at the test. It wasn’t exactly rocket science; I’d done it right. Yet after a full fifteen minutes, there were no lines in the little box.

  This was just unfair.

  Even when I squinted, the damn thing was as utterly blank and lineless as a freshly Botox-ed Hollywood star. Was I pregnant like Schrödinger’s cat was alive? Did merely observing the test affect the outcome? I was still in David’s bathroom the next morning and I really would have liked to know what was going on with my body before walking out and facing him. I was just going to be disappointed, although the inconclusiveness of the test allowed me to deny what I was already half suspecting to be true. Nevertheless, I took my daily birth control pill, brushed my hair, and put on my game face.

  Yet somehow, I felt no disappointment whatsoever when I emerged and saw that David had ordered us room service. He was grinning at me from the bed and looked very much like a sexy print advertisement for carbs.

  “Fancy a bagel? Or a croissant?” He brandished a basketful.

  “Sure!” My giddy heart skipped a beat to see him relaxed and happy like this. Thoughts and worries of possible pregnancy faded away into nothing. As long as I didn’t know for sure, there was no reason to worry.

  I snuggled in against his side contentedly and dug into the pastries.

  “I should have called you,” David said between bites of his breakfast. “I’m the world’s biggest idiot. Can I have another chance?”

  “Another chance at what?” I asked playfully, pretending not to know exactly what he referred to.

  “Another chance at this.” David wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me closer against his chest. “Whatever this is or might turn into.” He kissed my forehead and I knew there wasn’t a chance I’d be able to say no.

  “Are you asking me to go steady?” I giggled at the thought. My last regular boyfriend had been in college—ancient history at this point.

  “Yes,” he said, as if surprised to hear himself say the words, “I think I am.” He grinned, and I felt an answering smile threatening on my own face. A sudden thought quashed it.

  “You’re my boss,” I said, more to myself than him. My greedy hormones had already acquiesced to this relationship, or whatever it was that we had going. Still, I felt like I ought to acknowledge the fact,

  “Technically. Is that going to be an issue for you?”

  “It’s probably against the employee handbook.”

  “One of the perks of being the boss is getting to break the rules.” He had really mastered the alluring scoundrel thing. Even his corny lines worked for me.

  “Do you do this a lot?” I found myself incredibly curious about and somewhat jealous of any women who’d come before me.

  “Monogamy? No not really.” He smirked but I frowned.

  “That wasn’t what I meant. Dating the women who work for you.”

  “Oh. Uh, no, but the answer is the same. I don’t really date, period. Especially not over the last year. I’m out of practice, but I used to play the field much more than anything you’d call, well, dating.” He looked a bit nervous to admit any of this to me.

  “I see. So not calling last time, that was your ordinary M.O.” I tried not to let my hurt feelings show, but I’m sure they did.

  David cringed. “It might have been once. But it was a real mistake not to call you. I wanted to call you. I wasn’t lying when I said I would… it’s just that other things got in the way.

  “Did you have any other partners between you and I?” The fleeting images of starlets flickered across my mind’s eye. I almost didn’t want to know the answer.

  “No. Did you?” His face was nonjudgmental, but I could tell he was interested in the answer.

  “No. I don’t really date much either. But I’m also not the type to randomly hookup with someone.” I smiled sadly. “You were a real anomaly for me.”

  “I’m not that type anymore,” David said firmly. “Trust me, I’ve done nothing but focus on this show for the last two months. I was so focused on it that I almost blew my chances with you.”

  “Well you can hardly avoid me now. At least for the next ten days we’ll be in close quarters.” I said it in a light tone, but I was genuinely curious if it was merely an available partner to him.

  David set his bagel down and tipped my face toward his. He kissed me thoroughly before pulling back.

  “That’s not why I’m saying any of this,” he said seriously. “I’m not capitalizing on our close quarters because it’s convenient. I really want you.”

  I hesitated for only a second before the truth slipped out. “I really want you too, that’s why I want to be sure I’m more than a notch in your bedpost.”

  “Trust me, you’re not. I did nothing on that nineteen-hour flight but think about you.” He shook his head in apparent frustration. “I really thought you didn’t want me.”

  That was just laughable. I was about to tell him as much when a knock at the door startled us. David rose to answer it as I munched on my bagel contentedly.

  “Hey David, I know we aren’t starting today until noon, but have you seen Casey? Curtis and I thought we’d go through yesterday’s footage and start editing.”

  I froze. The voice belonged to Daphne.

  David must have been similarly dumbstruck, because he was silent for long enough that Daphne cleared her throat and prompted him.

  “Um, David?” she asked carefully. “You’re not much of a morning person are you, huh?”

  “It’s just the jet lag,” David replied haltingly. From his position at the door he looked back at me. His eyes widened for a second and I shrugged. We hadn’t discussed how we’d handle things with the crew yet.

  “Yeah, I so understand. I feel totally weird and, like, sort-of out of my body from it. Or maybe the Jager bombs from last night. Anyway, have you heard anything from Casey today? She isn’t answering her door or phone.”

  “Um…” he trailed off pathetically. He glanced back at me in confusion.

  Rather than let David out us by spinning some sort of wild lie to Daphne or just continue freezing like a deer in headlights, I scrambled out of bed and peeked over David’s elbow at Daphne. Her dark eyes went huge as she swung her gaze between the two of us like watching a tiny tennis match. She put the signs together in seconds. It was eight a.m. I was wearing David’s t-shirt and a pair of his boxers. We were both wet from a shower we’d taken together. Behind us, if she really craned her neck, she could probably have sighted my clothes strewn around the room and the messy bed.

  “Hey Daphne,” I said into the awkward moment of anticlimax. “Can I have like twenty minutes? I’ll meet you in the lobby as soon as I get ready.” I tried to smile a professional smile, but it didn’t feel anything but sheepish.

  Daphne’s jaw dropped open and she blinked at me in obvious shock for a good ten seconds.

  “Ok sure,” she finally managed. “Yeah, see you in twenty minutes.”

  “Great! Thanks. See you then.” I softly closed the door in her still-surprised face.

  With Daphne sure to snitch on us to the rest of the crew, our secret hadn’t lasted long enough to even decide it ought to be a secret. David and I exchanged a long, serious look and then burst into awkward laughter in front of the door. The second my giggles subsided, a wave of nausea crested in my throat.

  “I’m gonna’ be sick!” I gasped.

  I slapped a hand over my mouth and booked it to the bathroom.

  “Casey?” David called in confusion. The sounds of me throwing up breakfast must
have been enough of an answer, because he didn’t ask anything after that.

  Just like the day before, the feeling of being forcibly pulled inside out faded as soon as I ejected my breakfast into the toilet bowl. David tentatively knocked on the door after the sounds of my miserable retching subsided.

  “Casey? Are you ok?” He sounded concerned but had thankfully not attempted to hold my hair back or otherwise intervene. I very much preferred to vomit alone. It wasn’t a good group activity.

  Two mornings of sudden godawful morning stomach upset? What were the chances of that? I was no obstetrician, but it certainly could be morning sickness.

  “Yeah. Yeah, I’m totally fine,” I lied from my kneeling position over the commode. “I must have eaten a raisin bagel by accident. I’m allergic is all.”

  “Ok…” he said in a skeptical voice from behind the door, “Well do you want to get you anything? Ginger tea? Water?”

  “No. I’ll be totally back to normal in a minute.”

  When I emerged from the bathroom for the second time this morning, David had a glass of water ready for me despite my protestations. I accepted it and drank deeply. I had better remember to replenish my fluids if I was going to be hurling all the time.

  I took a deep, cleansing breath and resolved to finding another pregnancy test. One that worked this time.

  12

  David

  After Casey went downstairs to work on the editing with Daphne and Curtis, I lay back against the messed-up bed that smelled like Casey and considered the events of the past twenty-four hours. Despite a small worry about Casey’s persistent nausea, I was deliriously, ridiculously happy. It was hard to make myself do anything but enjoy the moment.

  My contentment was interrupted by a call from my brother Nathan. Typical.

 

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