by Opal Adams
I wanted to break something.
All this time and I'd been wanting to defend myself against Aaron's criticism because I thought I'd earned my place. I thought I'd been picked because I was the best audition, because I was the best fit for the part.
But I'd just gotten it because my agent knew the director.
"This isn't something you have to be angry about, Ellie. Acting is a business where who you know is the most important thing. This is going to make your career."
"It's a farce."
"It's reality."
I was so ready to blow up at her that I knew I needed to walk away. It wasn't her fault. She'd done what was best for her client, and she didn't deserve me bitching her out because my pride had taken a hit. "Okay," I said, and left her to it.
I was done with the party.
I pulled my cell from my clutch, and slipped out of the front of the house, having to check my maps app to find out where I actually was.
Any cab company I called was probably going to think I was pulling a prank if I gave them this address.
Aaron appeared beside me as I was searching for a number. "You look stressed."
"My agent is fucking my director. It's the only reason I got the part."
"You're mad about that? Most people would count that as a blessing."
"I feel like a fraud." I ran my hands through my hair, completely ruining what was left of my curls. "All this time I felt like I had the high ground, because I'd earned my place. I could face the criticism because I deserved to be there. It turns out none of that's true. There should be someone better there instead."
"Ellie, what I said to you on the first day wasn't fair. You're a good actress."
"I just feel like I've cheated my way in."
"Acting is all about who you know. Almost everyone catches their big break through knowing someone. That you got yours this early is just lucky."
"That's what Dana said."
"I mean, that's why you're here tonight. You're here to try and meet people because you think they're more likely to give you a part if they know who you are. It's no different."
I wrapped my arms around my waist. "I guess."
"I know."
"It all just feels so shallow."
"It's just the way the business works. Everyone goes through that phase, where they doubt it. If you go through yours early and come out the other side stronger, then you're going to have a great career."
A smile tugged at my lips. "Thanks. That does make me feel better."
"I can get my driver to take you home." He glanced at my phone and saw the search for cab numbers. "It's no bother, if you still want to go home."
It was early, and I knew it, but so much had happened tonight that I was drained. "Yeah. I think I'll take you up on that. If you're sure you don't mind."
"Not at all. I'm going to stick around here a bit longer, but he knows your address."
Aaron tapped on his phone for a few seconds, and within moments a Mercedes-Benz had pulled up in front of the house. "I got him to swap to the Merc. It's more comfortable, and I don't need to make an entrance to my own home."
I chuckled, and glanced up at Aaron for a moment, unsure of what I should do. Should I kiss him? Kiss his cheek? Give him a hug?
A hug definitely felt wrong.
Aaron made the decision for me, though. He strode down the steps and opened the car door for me. With it separating us, I couldn't get to him to kiss him.
I'd obviously been right earlier. One almost-fuck in the bathroom was the closest I was going to get to Aaron Palmer.
I gave him a large smile, though. "Thanks for the lift, and thank you for inviting me. I had a good time."
"Just drop me a text when you get home. Let me know you're safe."
My heart flipped inside my chest, and I wanted to drag him into the car with me. He'd know I was home safe if he just came home with me.
But all I could do was promise, "I will."
Then the door was shut, and I was being whisked home, tired, deflated, and very alone.
4.
AARON
I wasn't looking forward to going to work when it came to Monday.
I was going to have to face Ellie.
We'd barely spoken after the party on Saturday, even though we had everything to talk about.
And we hadn't talked because of me, too. She'd texted me the day after to thank me for inviting her, and to thank me for letting her borrow my chauffeur for the lift home. I'd given her a short reply that made it obvious I wasn't up for talking, and she hadn't replied.
I didn't want to talk to her because I was embarrassed and frustrated.
Embarrassed because I'd chickened out, and frustrated because me chickening out meant I was never going to get to fuck her.
I'd separated from my wife two years ago, and I hadn't slept with anyone since. Part of it was fear that breaking the seal meant something; that the first woman I slept with after Mindy was going to change something in me, make me more attached to her than I wanted to be. But mostly it was fear that I was going to end up getting hurt again. It wouldn't have just been sex, no matter how much we both said it was, because we were working together. And sex with someone you spent that much time with could never just be sex.
I didn't want to get close to someone else. I wanted to push everyone away so that I didn't end up in the same shitty position.
But after the fact, when I was stuck laying in my bed remembering the smell of her cunt and her desperate hands on mine, I regretted more than anything that I hadn't fucked her.
I'd been left with my hand and my imagination, and it was nothing compared to what I could have had.
And all I was going to get when I saw her on Monday was an awkward conversation about how I didn't want the scandal of the press finding out I was banging someone half my age whose agent had already fucked her into a position beyond her proven capabilities. It wouldn't do either of us any favors.
I just hoped she understood that, too.
But as I got closer and closer to the studio, my imagination was demanding I consider what would happen if I told her how into her I was, instead. If I said that she should come over tonight, and we should just have some dinner and watch a movie, and fuck the night away.
What harm could it do, really? What were the chances the press would find out?
We were costars, there was no reason we shouldn't be at each other's houses.
But it wasn't worth the risk.
And besides, I didn't want to go on a date with her. That would mean liking her, and I didn't like her.
I didn't like her determination and her fieriness and the way she handled me like I was just a normal person. It was something I'd never been allowed to have since I started my career.
Mindy had been all about my fame.
It had been her entire reason for going for me in the first place.
I arrived at the studio torn between a frown and a smile, and decided that the best thing to do was just to concentrate on getting the scenes we'd be shooting today right.
But Ellie was already right there, and she was staring straight at me as I walked through the door. She might have been a good actress, but she didn't hide her emotions very well. I saw everything from happiness to desire to despair and I wasn't sure which one had won out in the end.
We'd swapped places today; she was the one already through hair and make-up, and had a nasty looking fake-bruise on her right cheek, and a cut on her forehead. Den had said we were filming one of the final scenes today, so it made sense.
It also meant it was going to be an intense scene for the two of us.
I chatted to Nel for an hour without really hearing anything she was saying as she bloodied my face. I only tuned in when I heard Ellie's name mentioned. "Den said she was at Joanne's party with you."
I made a noise of confirmation, but wasn't going to get into it any further than that. Not unless Nel asked me a question.
"I
heard that the two of you were quite friendly while you were there."
I arched a brow. "I'm not sure who you heard that from or why you heard that." Stupid Den, he could never just keep his mouth shut. Nel always had to hear everything. Normally it didn't bother me; I hadn't done something that I wasn't entirely comfortable with other people hearing about in so many years before this.
Nel just laughed and waved me off. "I don't care. Den and I both care more about the fact Ellie seemed so upset about his relationship with her agent."
That I could understand. "She just feels like she got here without earning it. She'll get over it."
"It seems to have deflated her quite a bit."
"This whole thing is new to her. Everyone deals with coming into the business differently."
Nel nodded. "Yes, yes. That's true, I know. I've seen a lot of people come, and a lot of people go. You seemed to deal with it all just fine."
"You didn't know me from my earliest days."
"True."
Only, really, even from my earliest days as an actor I'd never really had many troubles like that. I just loved acting, and I wanted to always be doing it, no matter what the means I used to get there.
I'd probably been out of line asking Ellie whether it was her or her parents' dream, but it was a valid question, and the way it had shaken her mood made me think it was doubly worth asking.
All this talking and thinking about her, and all I wanted to do was have a conversation with her.
I was glad when I was done with Nel and could get away from her questions and knowing look.
But then I was face-to-face with Ellie and her equally knowing look.
Den didn't give us any time to talk, though, and we were straight onto the set. We were filming in what was supposed to be an abandoned warehouse today, and it was one of the final scenes. A discussion where we decided that the only way to get out of the situation we were in was to give Ellie up as bait to the drug dealers her boyfriend was involved with to allow me to get out, and then I'd come back for her when I could find some friends and equipment to get her out.
I just wasn't sure I was ready to be telling her that I didn't want to let her go, even if it was just some stupid movie.
I took a deep breath, though, and told myself I could do it. I'd been midway through filming when I'd found out that Mindy had cheated on me, and that film had still been one of my most critically acclaimed performances.
Licking out some girl I was working with wasn't going to make me falter.
Den put us in position, and that was hiding behind an old shipping container. The lighting was dark and moody, and we had to film the entire scene pretending to be quiet, but speaking loud enough to be heard clearly on camera, which was never easy.
I was curious to see how Ellie would handle the filming, too. If she'd be as much of a natural as she'd proven herself to be already.
It was awkward as we stood next to each other, both giving our scripts a final readthrough before handing them off to a stagehand. She looked up at me through unsure eyes, and I knew she was well aware that we weren't going to be continuing what happened at Joanne's party.
I just wanted to speak to her about it, not stand here trying to communicate things through our eyes.
But then the camera was ready to roll, and I tried to shove everything away. I wasn't Aaron, I was Marshall, and I'd just been hunted by a gang for the past forty-eight hours.
Ellie and I stood so close we were practically pushed together, and it set my body on fire. Her lips flashed to my lips for a moment, and I almost groaned.
This was going to be torture.
Dennis called, "Action," and we fell seamlessly into our roles.
"We can't run forever," Ellie said, voice hushed, lips so close to my cheek that her breath fanned against it. "This has to stop somewhere."
"If we stop then we'll both be killed. You'll be kept hostage until your boyfriend pays his debt back."
"He's not my boyfriend anymore."
"We can't just stop running."
She took a deep breath, her eyes were blazing. "No. We can't both stop. But if I stop, then you can get away."
I gripped her arm, fingers digging into the flesh, just like her fingers had dug into mine when I'd made her cum on the weekend. "I'm not going to let you give up like that. They'll hurt you."
"This isn't your fight."
"The whole reason I'm here is because I don't want you to get hurt."
"No, it's because you want some excitement. Haven't you had enough excitement now? Go back to your normal life before you really get hurt." Her fingers came up to brush softly against the fake bruise that was painted on my cheek.
I was getting dangerously close to having a hard-on, and I tried to stop thinking about how good she felt. I tried to stop remembering how good she felt.
How good my hand had felt around my cock that night when I got home, more sexually frustrated than I'd been since I was a teenager.
"It might have started out about the excitement, but it isn't anymore. It's about you, Angelina. Can't you see that? I can't just leave you here."
She swallowed visibly, and worried her bottom lip between her teeth. "You have to. This is our only way out."
"I can't. It's as simple as that."
She got even closer to me, this time pushing her body completely against mine, her lips dangerously close. "They're going to come around that corner and find us at any moment. If I'm here, they won't bother chasing you. You have to go. Please, Marshall. I'm begging you. I don't want your death on my conscience. I want you to live."
There were several beats of silence as we looked at each other, and then I sighed, and nodded, chin dropping to my chest. "Fine," I said, almost inaudible. "Fine. I'll go. If you can escape, though, you have to try. You have to get out of there."
Her smile was weak and false. "I will."
I leaned forward and pressed a short kiss to her cheek. "Good luck."
And then I ducked away from her and ran out of the door.
"Cut!" Den called, and the moment was broken.
Ellie and I looked at each other, and then away.
"That was good," Den continued, "Let's try it again. This time, Aaron a bit more emotion in your face, Ellie a bit less. Ellie, you're trying to be the strong one here. Okay. Back into position."
Filming was always interesting because the stage directions on a script were minimal. There wasn't something there telling me when I should and shouldn't be touching her, or kissing her cheek. It was about playing it by ear, seeing what you thought should be happening as you were saying the lines. Sometimes the director would tell you when he had a specific vision for a scene, but Den wasn't one of them.
He liked picking actors that had intuition and seeing how they handled the physical side when they had the dialog.
It was already obvious that Ellie and I had the right chemistry, and our physical side was going to be more regular and obvious than it might have been if I was paired with someone else.
It was exactly what Den liked in his films.
By the third run-through of the scene, I was starting to lose my cool, though. My kiss on Ellie's cheek was getting dangerously close to her mouth, and when I grabbed the top of her arm, my thumb was brushing against the side of her breast.
I wanted her, badly, and she wanted it back. She was staring at my lips far too often during the scene, and it if we didn't get it out of our systems we'd never get it right.
So, I called a break.
Den looked like he was rolling his eyes as I disappeared into my dressing room, and gave what I hoped was a subtle look for Ellie to come with me.
I might not give a shit what Den thought, but there were plenty of staff on the set that I didn't know, and therefore didn't trust.
I didn't want any of them thinking there was a story to leak to the press.
Ellie slipped into my dressing room behind me, and I shoved her back into the door and kissed her with
out hesitation. My body was burning for her, and I needed this; I needed it now before Den called us back onto the set.
She kissed me back just as eagerly, biting my bottom lip hard and tugging my hair painfully. Her body was molded perfectly against me, and I could feel every curve of her petite body.
She was perfect; eager and beautiful and so young I should have been ashamed to be pushing her to her knees in front of me.
But I wasn't because she didn't even begin to object. She was the one tugging on my belt as I threw my head back and pressed my fist to my mouth, trying to stop my groan. She hadn't even touched me yet, not properly, and I was ready to blow our cover.
"Fuck, I don't know how you're doing this to me," I hissed, watching her as she finally pulled my pants down, and my cock sprang free.
She looked up at me as she took it in her hand, eyes dark and seductive.
When she flicked her tongue against the tip, I knew I wasn't going to last long. I wanted it too much; needed her too badly.
I'd spent two days imagining what her lips would feel like around my cock, and the reality was even better.
She took me deep into her throat, and I wondered who she'd done this to before, wondered who else had had this beautiful woman on her knees in front of them. I bucked my hips involuntary, shoving my cock down her throat to the hilt. I expected her to push me back, but she took it, even as her eyes watered.
"God, you filthy—" then I stopped myself. We hadn't talked about it. She might not be into the same dirty talk as me.
Only she moaned around my cock, and then there was nothing stopping the words that came out of my mouth. I laced my fingers through her hair, and dragged her head back and forth roughly. "That's right, take it, you dirty fucking—" I came hard, fist pressed against my mouth to stop the cry of her name that almost burst forth.
She leaned back with a seductive smile and a drop of cum on her bottom lip.
She opened her mouth, but a knock on the door stopped whatever she'd been about to say.
"Aaron." It was Dennis' voice. "Mindy is here."
My mood plummeted, and Ellie didn't miss the change in the atmosphere. She wiped her mouth while I pulled my pants back up. "Coming," I said, voice flat.