by Opal Adams
But when the car arrived, Aaron actually stepped out of it.
I blinked in surprise. When he'd said he was sending a car I expected I'd be meeting him there, but here he was, standing outside my humble little apartment waiting for me.
I swallowed my surprise and hurried down the stairs, clutch under my arm and heart pounding. He was wearing a tight shirt, and I was desperate to get down there and see those muscles up close and in person.
Seeing him outside of work was different somehow. At work I could just about manage to compartmentalize: he was a colleague, and I had to be professional. Now, though, he was taking me to a fancy insider party, and my mind was insisting it was a date. I knew it wasn’t, I knew it was an apology offer, but he was hot, and I wanted him, and so my instincts were screaming at me to flirt.
"Hi," I said, giving him a wide smile, cheeks flushing when he leaned forward and kissed them both, European style. "I wasn't expecting you to come in person."
"That wouldn't have been very gentlemanly."
"And they say chivalry is dead." He let me get into the limo first, and I had to stop myself picking things up and generally staring in awe at the lavish interior.
"Champagne? Or there's spirits, or beer. I'm not great at making cocktails, so I'm not going to offer."
"Champagne is good."
We sat, legs pressing against each other, as the chauffeur drove us to wherever we were going.
"Are you friends with the people throwing the party?" I asked. "Or do you get invited on status alone?"
"It's Joanne Blaire's party. We've been in a couple of movies together, but we don't really speak outside of the parties she throws."
"I'm going to Joanne Blaire's party?"
He laughed. "You almost look scared."
"I'm feeling a little out of my depth right now."
"Don't be. They might be famous, but most of them are just normal people."
"I suppose arriving on your arm will boost my street cred." I took a long gulp of the champagne, knowing it would calm my nerves.
"You're young and beautiful. That's all the street cred you'll need with most people there."
"I suppose not everyone can get by on their filmography."
"What made you get into acting?"
"My parents. They've had me in acting class since I was about five."
He arched a brow. "So is this their dream, or yours?"
I blinked. "I've never really thought about it like that. Both, I guess. My mom was an actress in a soap opera in her home country, but she never made it onto the big screen, and she never made it big in America. She came here when she found out she was pregnant with me because she wanted me to have every opportunity."
"Well, her plan certainly worked."
"When she finds out I went to a party with you she might have a heart attack."
"Are you close?"
"Yeah, I'd say so. Since I moved out to go to school we don't see each other as often. They don't live in Cali. We talk on the phone every now and then, though."
I wanted to ask him these questions back, but it felt too personal somehow. I didn't quite feel on the same level as him.
The chauffeur pulled up before I had chance, anyway, and Aaron got out first. I placed my champagne flute down, and accepted his hand to get out of the limo. His hands were so much bigger than mine, and I wanted to know what they felt like on the rest of my body; if he splayed one across the small of my back, if he grabbed my ass cheek.
I walked into the party with my hand in the crook of Aaron's arm, feeling daunted, but with my head held high and what I hoped was a confident smile on my face. None of these people needed introductions; I knew most of them, but none of them knew who I was. I accepted a new glass of champagne eagerly, and drained half of it in a single gulp.
The first half an hour, Aaron stuck by my side. He introduced me to people, and we talked shop. It was exactly as he'd promised: a networking opportunity. I met directors and producers, actors and actresses. They knew I was working with Aaron, and that gave me legitimacy. People seemed genuinely interested to hear about the movie.
When Aaron excused himself to catch up with someone on the other side of the room, it felt like my safety net had been whipped away, and I struggled not to falter. But I was an actress, and I just had to act confident. I was on my second glass of champagne, and that was helping, too. It stopped me overthinking every little thing I said.
A couple came over to me, and I didn't recognize either of them, which was a surprise here. The man shook my hand. "Ellie Lyndon, I saw you arrive with Aaron. It's good to see you here."
I shook his hand, wondering how he knew my name. "I'm sorry, I don't—"
He waved me off. "Of course! Sorry, I'm Martin Bales. I'm an agent. My girl lost out on the part to you."
I wasn't really sure how to respond to that. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm still not sure how I got the part."
"No need to apologize. It's all just a part of the game. I'll steal a part back at some point. How is Dana?"
"I spoke to her a few days ago, she was just asking how my first day on-set went. She seems good."
"I'm sure she's very pleased with herself." I felt like there was something I was missing. Martin had a smile on his face that I was sure was malicious, even though his words seemed perfectly polite. "She might be here tonight, actually. She's normally at Joanne's dos. Maybe you'll run into her."
I had to stop myself frowning at Martin, and instead excused myself, determined to find a bathroom. He was just annoyed that I got the part instead of his client. There was nothing more than that in his icily laced words.
On the way to the restroom Aaron pulled me into his conversation, with none other than Joanne Blaire herself.
"This is Ellie Lyndon," he said. "She's acting opposite me in Callaghan's new movie." It was almost strange to hear Dennis referred to as Callaghan. It was how the rest of the world referred to him, but I’d gotten so used to hearing him being called Den or Dennis on-set.
Joanne gave me a hug rather than a handshake. Her hand was resting on Aaron's arm in a way that I thought might have been possessive, but her face was all happiness. "It's lovely to meet you. I hope he's not being too harsh to you on-set, I know what he's like."
Joanne was a true veteran. She was well into her sixties and had been acting since she was a kid. Everyone knew her.
And it looked like she had a big soft spot for Aaron.
"He's been wonderful," I lied, giving Aaron an amused smile. The first day had been rocky, but the second was a significant improvement. In fact, the first was practically shoved from my mind. I'd wiped my opinion slate clean, and I was just going off today's actions.
"Well, you must be very talented, then," she chuckled. "He's such a perfectionist."
"We've only done a few days of filming so far, I'm sure it'll get worse," I teased.
Someone came up behind Joanne and whispered in her ear. "Oh, you must excuse me," she said. "I hope you have wonderful night, both of you."
I raised an eyebrow at Aaron. "She's very sweet on you."
He grinned, showing his dimple. "I'm a very charming young man."
"Young?"
"You've gotten way too comfortable around me. It was better when you were scared."
I laughed, placing a hand on his arm. "You're less scary when we're not in the studio."
He didn't shy away from how close I was standing to him, and my confidence built.
"I'll have to avoid taking you out in future, then."
I grinned, and it seemed like there were suddenly more people around us. I had an excuse to take a step toward him. We were opposite each other, our bodies almost pressed together, and in my heels our faces were on the same level. "You prefer me all quiet and boring?"
I wasn't expecting him to wrap his arms around my waist, and pull me completely against him. "If you're not being quiet and boring then you're going down a dangerous path."
My free hand played with
the button on his shirt, and my body was hot with what he was saying. Part of me wanted to look around, to see if anyone was seeing this, but I was at a party with people who didn't care. I was at a party with people who just wanted a bit of privacy in their life; they weren't interested in what was going on between Aaron and I right now.
No one cared that I was playing with his shirt and his arms were around my waist; that I was staring at his lips and seriously considering just going for it.
"I like danger."
He sighed, drumming his fingers against my back. "I'm not sure I should be giving into danger."
"It really is just a part you're playing in all those action flicks, then?"
His grip tightened on my hips, and he brushed my nose against his, hot breath fanning against my mouth. "I really wish you'd been a bad actress," he complained, his lips ghosting against mine.
I wanted to laugh, but I was too absorbed in him. I was too absorbed in the flush of my skin and the pounding of my heart. He was reluctant, but he wasn't pulling back, and I wasn't going to be the bigger person here. I was going to let him do whatever he wanted to me without trying to stop him.
"So, is there any privacy in this house? I'm guessing there are about fifty guestrooms we can hide ourselves away in." It was more straightforward than I'd ever been, but tonight I was alive. I was living my dream, with a guy I'd berate myself forever for not trying my best to fuck.
"The guest rooms are off limits, but I know exactly where plenty of bathrooms are."
"Lead the way."
He linked his hand through mine and I finally took a glance around the room to see if anyone was watching us.
He was Aaron Palmer, surely people had to be watching what he was doing; looking to see that he was flirting with someone half his age and who he was currently working with.
But no one was. I saw a few glances in our direction as we walked, but they were just that. Glances are people passing by. No one had been outright staring with judgment or curiosity in their gaze.
We were free to walk to the bathroom were Aaron was going to fuck me senseless without anyone giving a shit.
And I loved it.
In acting school, I'd had a few relationships, but the drama there was so excessive that even having a conversation with someone seemed to be talked about for days. When I'd lost my virginity, the story had been spread around the school within hours. When I'd been cheated on by my first boyfriend, everyone had known about it. There was no escaping everyone knowing everything, and it had made me completely reluctant to get involved.
I'd hated it there, really. I'd hated the culture, and I'd always wanted to know what it would have been like to go to a normal college, studying a normal subject, with people who weren't so obsessed with other people's lives.
How those people at acting school became the creatures of discretion I was currently in the room with, I had no idea.
In the bathroom, I was too turned on to admire the gorgeous tiles and expensive fixtures.
All I cared about was how Aaron was pushing me back against the door he'd just locked, and his lips were descending on mine.
My fingers laced through his curls, and my body pressed against his hard, muscled chest. I couldn't get enough of him, and my body sang just from the way he kissed. He was confident and demanding, opening my mouth and taking my bottom lip between his teeth, drawing a moan from the back of my throat as he bit down.
I wished I could get him naked, run my fingers down that torso and see the cock that was straining against his pants. I wished I could moan loudly as his thumb brushed against my hard nipple through the skimpy dress.
Mostly I just wished his cock was inside me.
"Fuck, you feel good," he said as he pinched my nipple, hard enough to make me gasp. His lips were brushing against my neck, sending shivers down my spine, and part of me wanted him to suck, to leave a bruise there that I could admire when he wasn't here in front of me anymore.
"Aaron," I breathed, arching my back as he wedged his knee between my thigh. "I want you to fuck me."
"I don't know what I've done to deserve you," he said, and suddenly he was on his knees in front of me. I had no idea whether it had been meant as a compliment or an insult, but I couldn't have cared less as my dress was hiked up to my waist and he pulled my panties off.
He didn't waste time teasing me; his tongue flicked against my clit without warning, and my head fell back against the door, my moan far too loud. "Oh, God," I moaned, keeping his face pushed against my pussy by his hair. "Don't stop."
And he obviously had no intention of stopping. He didn't even need his fingers to make me cum; they held my thighs apart while his tongue did all the work.
He flicked and lapped at my clit until I was a quivering mess above him, and there was no chance I would have still been on my feet if he wasn't holding me upright.
It was a cry that fell from my lips as I came apart, my hands so tight in his hair it must have hurt, and my chest heaving with every breath.
I looked down at him, still on his knees in front of me, and had never felt so complete.
This was completely different to the thrill of having turned up for my first day on set. That had been excitement mixed with so many nerves I felt ill.
This was pure bliss. This was having a man who knew exactly what he was doing making me fall apart for him when there were hundreds of A-list celebrities on the other side of the door.
"Holy shit," was all I could say.
He flashed a grin up at me, but there was something in his face that told me I wasn't going to get anything more tonight, even though his cock was straining against his pants and his face was just as flushed. He stood up, and let me bring him back into a kiss.
It was short and sweet rather than hot and steamy.
"Do you not want some help with that?" I asked, glancing down at his tent.
He pressed a kiss to my cheek, teasing me with those full lips. "We still have months of filming to go," he said, voice low and raspy. "I don't want to spoil all the fun so soon."
I wanted to pout. I was awfully tempted to stamp my feet and tell him just how horny I was, even though I'd just cum so hard I could barely stand up.
Instead I returned the favor and pressed a kiss to the side of his mouth. "Then I look forward to breaking down your walls." I took another look at the tent in his pants. "I'll leave you to figure that out."
I pulled my dress back down over my hips, and took a quick glance in the mirror to make sure it wasn't completely obvious that I'd just had the time of my life in Joanne Blaire's bathroom, then stepped out of the room and back into the party.
Almost immediately there was a glass of champagne in my hand, and I clutched it as my lust calmed down, and reality started to hit me again.
I'd just almost fucked Aaron Palmer. I wanted to do a little dance that it had actually happened; I wanted to go home and get my vibrator just at the memory of his stubble between my thighs.
But the fact I'd just slept with my costar, that it wasn't just me having slept with a celebrity I'd crushed on for as long as I could remember, stopped it from being perfect.
This was a scandal in the making.
I was young, half his age, and I was completely inexperienced in the acting world.
I'd get accused of sleeping my way to the top if the press found out. Aaron wouldn't come out of it looking like a hero, either. The public had sided with him in the divorce, obviously; his wife had cheated on him. But if his rebound was a girl who had only just turned twenty-two, people would be less impressed.
I knew I'd be getting a conversation tomorrow about how what we'd done was a mistake, and I could live with that.
I didn't want every director requiring me to get into bed with them to give me a part in the future.
We'd had a hot ten minutes that I'd never forget, but I completely expected it to be the only ten minutes.
I played with my hair, looked at my split ends, and then forced my
self to get it together. This was the opportunity of a lifetime, and I was going to network and get to know people, even if my mind was occupied on the man who was probably still fixing his hard-on in the bathroom.
Only when I looked around to see if I could spot someone alone to chat with, I saw Dana across the room.
And she was practically draped across Dennis Callaghan.
My stomach sank as I watched them talk to each other, completely absorbed in what the other was saying. The giggle that left her mouth, and the kiss she pressed to his cheek, made me nauseous.
All that about wanting to protect my reputation, and it turned out I hadn't needed to fuck my way the top because my agent had done it for me.
My feet were moving without my permission, and I couldn't stop myself from going over there. I had to ask her; I had to know if I'd really earned my place in his film, or if she'd asked for a favor from the guy she was clearly fucking.
"Hi," I said, bright smile so false I knew they must both be able to see through it.
"Ellie." Dana pulled me into a hug, and I wondered how much she'd had to drink to completely miss the tension that was oozing out of me. "What are you doing here? I didn't realize you were coming."
"Aaron invited me."
Dennis raised an eyebrow. "Really?"
"Yes." There was a beat of awkward silence, before I said, "Dana, can I just talk to you for a moment?"
"Of course."
I guided her just a few paces away from Dennis, and tried to keep my voice low enough that people wouldn't overhear. "Did I get my part in his film because you're fucking Dennis?" I asked her.
Her eyebrows shot up. "You got the part because you're a good actress."
"Did I get the part in his film because you're seeing him?" I asked again. She'd given me the biggest non-answer in the book, and I wasn't going to just accept that.
She sighed. "Look, I didn't ask Den to give you that part. We never spoke about you, except he asked me whether you were good to work with. All I said was yes. I'm not going to tell you that he didn't pick you because we're together and hiring you is good for me. He probably did, but I didn't ask him to, and he wouldn't have done it unless he was impressed by you. The fact that you're my client just made him take a risk he doesn't normally take. That's all."