Savage: Unapologetic

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Savage: Unapologetic Page 7

by Pamela Ann


  He gave a hearty laugh. “I’m in New York, but I’ll be back on the West Coast next week. I’ll call you the second I land, deal?” He was crazy busy.

  “Next week sounds perfect,” I responded before we carried on conversing about his work and how my show wrapped up in Vancouver. We spoke for another ten minutes before he had to cut it short for an impending meeting.

  So, after we wrapped up the call, I pondered for a bit if River was okay with my ongoing friendship with Kyle. Now that my relationship with River was well-established, surely keeping friendship with a friendly ex-lover wouldn’t be frowned upon? Kyle Matthews wasn’t like Hailey. He was also a dear friend, one who I could always count on if I needed someone to jumpstart my common sense. Kells and Anton were my great confidantes, but Kyle had somehow become part of the sacred crew, and hopefully—fingers crossed—River would see it as such.

  //

  Thankfully, River’s condo greeted me with welcomed silence. Willa was most likely running around town, doing whatever River had on his to-do list, while the boss man himself was stuck in the studio.

  Last night, just before bed, he announced that he was dropping one of the lead singles of the album the day after tomorrow, scrapping previous release plans, so he had until the week’s end to finish the entirety of this project. He was shedding blood, sweat, and tears into this production, creating everything that surpassed his arduous set of standards. He was a manic perfectionist, so it was understandable that I barely saw him between the chaste visits, and of course, coming home to take a few hours of sleep. As much as I abhorred being such a nag, I had to make sure the man wasn’t skipping meals. A bad habit he indulged in once he was in the zone.

  It was quite a process hauling as much ice from the largest mixing bowl I could find before dumping the whole lot into the bath. I followed it with a whole gallon of milk before soaking my achy body into the frigid water just to ease the throbbing muscles that vibrated through me. This wasn’t the first time I had taken such drastic measures, yet I had forgotten how severe this whole thing was.

  “Fuck me,” I harshly groaned as I tightly clamped my jaw shut from clattering.

  Hopefully, Carmen didn’t expect me to bring the big guns after I had explained how it had been ages since I’d properly had a chance to shake my cha-cha.

  The more I pondered about it, the more I realized that Carmen was exceedingly competitive, and judging from that sole fact alone, she was going to see and consider this as such—a competition.

  Whatever prior inhibitions I had should go out the window, or I wouldn’t be able to avoid her teasing. She was one of those individuals who thrived on being pushed to the limit. Sure, she might be one of the best performers I had seen to date, but I wasn’t without skills, either. I had the power to command an audience, Gloria, my dance instructor, had once proudly stated so. The only problem I had was believing it myself and not let doubt and insecurity cloud my ability to properly perform when under pressure.

  I arrived at the address Carmen gave me that was located in Van Nuys at the time she specified. The famous studio had graced the likes of Britney Spears and other stars that thrived on dancing. Daunting didn’t even begin to cover how I felt at the moment.

  Basing how the energized dancers were dressed in their videos, I donned similar clothing—black denim shorts, black fitted cropped top, and my favorite black booties. I didn’t bother doing anything with my hair, so it cascaded down my back as I stepped out of my car, leaving my inhibitions aside as I strode into the studio. My eyes scanned the place, jam-packed with energy that I could instantly feel being injected with an adrenaline rush.

  The nimble woman was on her phone, and the second she caught a glimpse of me, she instantaneously sprinted to where I stood.

  “Right on time, Disney,” Carmen greeted with a chaste embrace. “Ready to rock that body?” She grinned in her usual upbeat, slightly sarcastic manner.

  “I am,” I mumbled as we moved towards the hall, leading me straight towards one of the studios.

  Carmen apparently scored one of these studios for this particular dance-off. Was I impressed? Undoubtedly. Was I threatened? Absolutely.

  Let’s just say that Carmen took this to a whole different level than what I was accustomed to, and I found that quite unnerving. If she wasn’t all buoyant and cheerful all the damn time, I would’ve been easily intimidated by her. Luckily, Carmen was about good vibes. That was why I was here, because in some ways, I found her encouraging and at times, oddly enough, endearing as well. She shone positivity, and I wanted that relentless drive she possessed, that particular kind of optimism that people gravitated towards.

  “Here we are,” she announced as she rubbed her hands together, tickled by the idea of beating me again.

  In a small rounded corner sat a loveseat, so I gradually placed my belongings there before facing the good-humored woman.

  “I’m ready for you to put me through the wringer.” I was hyped. My body highly abuzz, jolted with anticipation of what’s to come ext.

  She trotted towards the opposite side of the room, turning on a camera. She then grinned at me before she scrolled about the iPad. “Awesome! Just thought this song might just fit you since you know, you’re dating River Ellis and shit.”

  Right on cue, the song “River” by Bishop Briggs vibrated throughout the mirrored studio.

  She rubbed her hands together before she sashayed towards the center of the room, masking the real Carmen and replaced with the determined fierce look of a dancer. The mask was less mellow than the original one.

  “Watch me. Learn every move.” Those were her last words before she dropped low and began to hypnotize me with her energetic pull and supreme skills.

  My eyes devoured her. From the smooth flow in the way her hips locked and swayed to the riveting beat of the music, to being possessed with the melody of the song singing into her body, delving into her soul. Carmen took it and wholeheartedly embraced its spell. She became untamed, completely enslaved to the rhythm. It was captivating to witness, a mesmerizing projection expressed through music. A moving art, a fierce, erotically charged moving art. The fluidity of her moves were jaw dropping. Fervor in execution, the perfect implementation and the intensity Carmen performed was impressive.

  I was still rooted to the spot, jaw slightly ajar as the song ended and the dance nymph proudly beamed at me.

  Carmen whistled, commanding my attention. “Time to vibe, chica. Let’s see what you have, eh?” she encouraged before we both shifted positions and it was my turn to be in the middle of the room, standing before the walled mirror with the camera capturing every move.

  Breathe.

  You sought this.

  You love this.

  You crave this.

  My photographic memory typically came handy in such situations, be it memorizing a script in less than twenty-four hours or remembering dance routines, but this was different. How could I surpass that kind of perfection? Maybe I didn’t have to, I duly considered, before I decided that I had to embrace it and rock the tune with my own spin on her routine. The sole drive that never failed me to perform was the man who owned me—body and soul. River. The thought of him stirred something savage within me. My mind shifted back to the memory of us in the dance studio that one hot summer night. I had swayed to his tune until he had deemed me worthy enough to be stripped from my clothing. I had to earn each shedding piece. The seduction game had gone on until I was naked, and then he had grant me his cock.

  This is for him. I’m dancing for him—for his approval.

  Lights off with only one light spotlighting me, basked in the surrounding darkness while the camera honed in on me, I shivered when I heard Carmen signaling to ready up.

  Yes, River’s watching. Dance for him. Seduce him. So dance. Make love to him through the music.

  When the song reverted back to the beginning, I momentarily shut my eyes. And just like that, like a flickered switched in my body, I felt the c
alling, the deep-seated yearning. It seized me. It commanded me.

  A beautiful heady rush coursed through my veins, electrifying me as it loosened my body. My senses solely concentrated on the music and those dark eyes observing me dance for him.

  Let the music capture your body.

  Let go.

  Set your body free.

  Just. Dance.

  Like a river… like a river…

  Shut your mouth and run me like a river …

  The song beckoned, and my hypnotized form answered with unmitigated tenacity. I submitted to the seductive rhythm, letting it speak through my body, rocking through it, vibrating through it.

  How do we fall in love? Harder than a bullet could hit you

  How do we fall apart? Faster than a hairpin trigger

  Don’t say, don’t you say it

  Shifting positions, instead of following Carmen’s choreography, I added my own flair by dropping on the floor and began to sensually crawl towards the camera. Provocative. Magnetic. Captivating.

  Shut your mouth, baby, stand like a river

  Holy hands, oh, they make me a sinner

  Breaking the mold, I bounced on my heels then swiftly got on my back, chest arched, before carefully shifting, balancing on my head and made a quick air split. Then I got on my knees and reverted back to the original choreography.

  Tales of an endless heart, cursed is the fool who’s willing

  Can’t change the way we are, one kiss away from killing

  Lips parting, I swayed, rolling my hips as I scantily touched the valley of my breasts, trailing it all the way south as I zeroed in on the camera. Freeing inhibitions, I performed as if my aches were nonexistent. And all I saw were those spellbinding dark eyes waiting to ravish me.

  River.

  When the song ended, a loud whistle echoed in the studio. “Damn, Disney, you sure you weren’t a stripper or something?” Carmen applauded as she strolled towards me and tapped my butt cheek. “That was hawt as fuck!”

  “I guess that’s the closest thing I’ll get to a compliment from you.” I supposed my stripper moves impressed her. Ha. Those particular moves were exclusively for River’s eyes only, but tonight … tonight demanded it of me.

  “Do you mind if I upload the videos in my channel? My followers would love you.”

  Grinning at her, I shook my head. “Not at all. Go ahead.” I hadn’t expected to enjoy it as much as I did. It felt spontaneous, unleashed. Unbidden.

  I stayed for another thirty minutes because Carmen insisted I watch the group dance-offs. The energy in the studio was intoxicating, one I could easily get addicted to.

  Before I left, I promised Carmen we would do it again soon. Tonight’s experience was enlightening.

  The moment I reached River’s home, I went out like a light. I barely had the strength to get out of my scraps of clothing before I launched myself into bed, naked.

  I had no recollection of River coming home. The only imprint he left behind was the feel of him between my thighs. He sure knew how to make it known he ravished my body while I was out like a light. A privilege he savored every chance he got.

  He had no limitations, no inhibitions, because in his mind, he owned my body as I owned his. It was within his right to take as much as he desired. Though I hadn’t gone as far as he did. Then again, when it came to satisfying sexual needs, I let him take charge. In some ways, I was reserved, hesitant to initiate sex. River loved to dominate, anyway, so I figured he executed it better than I did. He never complained, so I believed this arrangement suited us both.

  I pondered why that was. There was no doubt how much I wanted him, but I supposed it all came down to confidence. As seductions went, I hadn’t gone out of my way to do anything in fear that I might seem silly in his eyes.

  Confidence was key, and I hoped that someday I would brace my fears and champion any reservations I had. I was still evolving, as a woman, as an actress, as my own person. Hopefully, in the long run, I would be up to the challenge and take charge and dominate the way I envisioned it a thousand times.

  It was thirty past ten in the morning, and I barely just shifted to my side when Anton’s name pealed into my phone.

  “Don’t tell me you’re calling ’cause you’re hungry already?” I mumbled as I stifled a yawn.

  “That, too, but no. Go to YouTube, babe. You’ve gone viral.” Anton’s last words hit me like a block of ice.

  Viral? I stilled, scowling. “What the hell?”

  “For real. But hot damn, you never said you got some sick moves. You’re so fucking wicked.”

  A sick, twisted knot churned in my gut. “Please, please, please, don’t say anything to River. I don’t know how he’ll react …”

  “That man is possessive as fuck; how else will that man react, I wonder?” Anton teased, making me dread some more.

  “I know …” Biting on my lip, I could already picture his pissed off face.

  I was royally screwed, and we both knew it.

  Chapter Seven

  River didn’t seem to have a clue about the video, so I bided my time, waiting for the right moment to break it to him. I wasn’t sure how he would react. I decided it was best to put it aside for today and focus on his newly released single Brown Eyes that had just hit the airwaves hours ago.

  Ari had emailed a ton of people in the music business for a listening party at his Bel Air home tonight. Rock, who was in charge of visual effects, would showcase a thirty-minute video of River through his writing process and snippets of him recording in the studio.

  River surrounded himself with a group of artistic people. Manu produced one of his tracks. And I supposed this eventuality was bound to happen sooner or later, given that they liked to jam and belt out tunes whenever they hung out. This became a project his friends were a part of, and I couldn’t be more proud.

  There were about two hundred people in Ari’s home. River’s manager had surprisingly been cordial and not hostile towards me. I had expected some type of confrontation after the whole Hailey debacle a few months back, but it seemed that was old news and everyone focused on the highly-anticipated album release. According to River, that day was approximately six weeks away.

  While the garden and the entire floor filled with guests, Ari situated the listening party in his massive in-home theatre where people could go in and out without needing to specifically coerce to listen to all throughout the evening.

  I actually hadn’t been in any type of listening parties, but Ari did things differently, so who was I to judge if this was an effective way to promote River’s music? I was sure that most of the guests were journalists. Reviews and articles would be flooding in the oncoming days.

  River busied himself entertaining people from the industry, politely answering questions about his new career.

  Phoenix, the second it was revealed he co-wrote some of the songs, was bombarded with questions about his connections to music and how the writing process came about with River. Since they had been friends for over a year now, vibing with one of his closest friends came naturally.

  For the most part, I couldn’t very well stick to his side and seem like an insipid, less functioning bimbo, so Kells, Anton, and I made sure the drinks and food were properly filled.

  “Did he say anything yet?” Anton whispered while we refilled our champagne flutes.

  Peering at my friend, I guzzled the contents of my glass before shaking my head. “Not yet, no.”

  He frowned, puzzled. “Weird. You’re, like, one of the recommended videos on YouTube, and last time I checked, you’re trending on Twitter.”

  His revelation increased the anxiety that had formed in the pit of my stomach. I tried to quench it with another round of drink.

  “He’ll be fine. It’s no biggie. It’s only a video of me dancing. It really isn’t that big of a deal.” Anton gave me a thoughtful look before he snickered. “Let’s just say that you’re going to be easily recognized these days. And your market
value will sky-rocket like a bitch in heat ’cause you’re multi-talented. Viral videos would do that to you. People like all that shit, and it doesn’t hurt that you’re gorgeous and sexy as fuck. Not to mention the added perk you’re dating the man-candy River Ellis.”

  Viral videos,, fuck. It was just a dance video; how could it garner so much attention?

  “You exaggerate too much, babe.” I shrugged, not wanting to dwell on my impending doom. I couldn’t even appreciate the fact that people liked it because all my mind focused on was River’s furious reaction. There was nothing worse than awaiting that explosive moment, and time was closing in on me.

  “You’ll find out soon. You heard it from my lips first.”

  “Okay, now let’s get out of here and find where our friends are hiding.” Did they know, too? And if they did, they knew better than to mention it, knowing River won’t be pleased. Nevertheless, it was making me nervous. So much so that I couldn’t even dare look at the video in fear that it might be too revealing.

  I didn’t do it to get popularity. On the contrary, I gave it my all because dancers couldn’t be one if they didn’t put their souls into it. Was that a crime?

  Anton and I filtered through the crowd and headed straight to the theater where most of them were milling around before we sought the kitchens.

  The second I reached River’s side, who was in company of Kells, Manu, Phoenix, and Rock, he didn’t seem at all pleased as he gazed at me, brows furrowing.

  “What video are they talking about?” he asked with utter bewilderment.

  Fuck. I’m screwed. My stomach dropped, panic seizing me, but before I could manage to respond, Rock tapped him in the back, vying for his full attention.

  “I got you, bro,” he reassuringly stated, immediately breezing towards his laptop to surf the net. I had expected him to show the link and change from the contents on the screen projector. In a blink of an eye, River’s clips shifted to little ole me in the studio.

 

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