by N. K. Smith
“You,” she whispers, breathless.
The SUV stops. We’re at the hotel, so I withdraw my hand, then make a show of sucking my finger into my mouth to taste her. Our eyes are locked, and I know she wants me. I can feel the power surging in me with the knowledge.
I’m a gentleman and help her out of the SUV. I keep my hands in chaste places as we enter the hotel via the back entrance. Oscar and Xavier ride the freight elevator up with us, so we don’t touch, and we don’t speak.
But when her door is closed behind us, I’m on her. I press her into the wall from behind. I put one of my arms around her waist and squeeze her tit with my other hand.
Cole gasps, but she adjusts her stance and presses her ass against me.
“It wasn’t nice of you to make me watch that,” I say into her ear.
“It wasn’t nice of you to tell your friends about—”
I use my leverage to press her tighter against the wall, which shuts her up. “Get over it.”
Easing up the pressure, I’m able to grab the straps of her dress and pull them down, peeling the tight yellow fabric down her body. She stays still and lets me strip her naked. All she has on her are those fuck-me black high heels.
“Over to the bar,” I order, cock stiffening as she complies. I follow and watch her tight ass as she moves. It’s all I can do to not drop this charade of power and fuck her now. “Hands on the chair.”
Cole places her hands flat against the seat of the tall chair. Her body bends enough to make her ass stick out. Her little pussy peeks through her legs. The sight of it makes me fully erect.
“I don’t like it when you’re with other men.” I smack her ass hard without warning.
Her body goes rigid as she gasps with the shock and slight pain. She lets out a little breathy moan that tells me she likes this.
I slap her other cheek. “You knew what you were doing, didn’t you?” I smack her harder when there is no response.
“Yes.”
“You had fun grinding against that guy, knowing I was watching, didn’t you?”
She nods.
I want her voice, so I spank her in the same place three times in a row.
“Yes.”
I rub her pussy, but don’t touch her clit. She’s wetter than before. “You like playing games with me. You wanted me to be angry; to want you more and then you were going to deny me.”
Cole is silent, so I slap her pussy. Her legs spread open more as she brings her body down onto the chair.
“But you couldn’t deny me because you want my cock. You love my cock.” I give her five smacks on the curve of her ass. Her flesh is red now, but she keeps shoving her ass out to me as if asking for more.
I’m not inclined to give her what she wants right now. I carefully wrap my fingers around her wrist and pull her up, then gently tug her down until she understands what I want. She unbuttons and unzips my pants, then tugs them down my legs along with my boxer-briefs. I kick off my shoes and step out of my clothing.
Before I can even kick them away, she devours my cock, moving her head and hand up and down fast. Too fast. I pull her away, then bring her back up to me.
She goes for my mouth, sucks on my lips, and prods my tongue with hers. She’s in control again, and I want it back.
I deny her access to any part of me as I lead her to the bedroom, then drape her across my lap. No words pass between us as I spank her again. I keep it up and smack closer and closer to her pussy until it’s the only thing I’m smacking. Her moans are driving me wild, and her wriggling body creates a beautiful friction on my cock.
When I’m done making her ass bright red, I bring her up with me, then go back to pressing her against the wall. Positioning her just right, I enter her tight little pussy. I don’t go slow or consider her comfort. I just ram into her again and again, one hand on her hip and one on her tit.
It’s the quickest orgasm I’ve had in a while, so I turn her around, drop down onto my knees, and lift her leg over my shoulder. She buries her hands in my hair and tightens her fingers, using her nails to scrape my scalp. “Fuck,” she hisses as I suck on various parts of her body: her collarbone, her shoulder, her breast, and her trim tummy. Slipping a finger inside of her causes her to start bucking against my face.
Cole is really close, so I stop eating her pussy and stand up. Her leg is still hitched over my shoulder, and she wraps the other one around my hip as my hand moves to her ass to hold her up. Somehow my cock is rock hard again.
I fuck her fast, but this time, I want her to come. My pelvic bone is bumping her clit each time I thrust into her. I can feel her nails dig into my flesh as she clutches onto me. Her breath is hot and sweet against my cheek. I gently bite her jaw, then take the opportunity to plunge my tongue into her mouth as she opens it up to moan.
The noises she makes are intense. The guys guarding the door can probably hear her, and the thought of it makes me fuck faster, harder. She wants us to keep our relationship quiet, but I’m going to make sure everyone around us hears how much she loves my cock inside of her.
My back is burning from her nails scratching my skin, but I can only focus on the way her pussy squeezes me as she comes. I continue to drive into her as I feel a powerful orgasm build. “I love fucking you. I love fucking you. I love you.”
I come, remembering too late I didn’t put on a condom and definitely didn’t pull out in time. Cole seems unconcerned. Her heavy breath in my ear drowns out all other sounds. All of my aggression and assertiveness of just moments before is gone. I peel her away from the wall, but keep her close to me as I move. When I deposit her onto the bed, I kiss her softly as if she is glass and might break under the pressure of my lips.
We lie wrapped in each other’s arms, enjoying the silence.
I brush the hair away from her face. “I hated seeing you with that guy.”
“I hated being with him.”
“Really?”
“Really,” she confirms.
“Then why—”
“Because I’m a brat who’s used to getting what she wants.”
“My friends won’t tell. I swear, they won’t.”
Cole nods. “I believe you.”
“I didn’t wear a condom.”
“It’s not the first time. Are you fucking someone else?”
“No.”
“Me either.”
“But I came inside of you.”
She turns away and nods. “I can’t have kids, so it’s not a big deal.”
This is news to me. “Really? What hap—”
She doesn’t let me ask the question. “You know the reason why I don’t want our relationship out in the public doesn’t have anything to do with you. I’d love to tell everyone about you, but—”
“I get it.” I rise up onto my elbow and use my index finger to draw an invisible line from her forehead down her nose, over her lips to her chin. “So we’re okay? Really?”
Collette looks me in the eyes and says, “Yeah. We’re okay.”
I roll over and my hand is met with a cold, empty spot where Cole should be. The clock reads four twenty-eight. My head hums from the alcohol I consumed, so I slide out of bed and stumble in the dark toward the bathroom.
Almost falling asleep again while I piss, I brace myself against the wall, then try not to puke as the room swirls around me. I’m unsuccessful. When I finish, I brush my teeth, then go out to get a glass of water and a piece of bread to soak up any residual alcohol in my belly.
Before I can get to the kitchen, I find Cole at the small dining table, laptop open, notepad and pen lying next to it, and the script for Reflections open with a bunch of bright orange flags stuck to it. “Hey.” I give her a hung-over smile.
“Hey,” she whispers back. “You okay?”
“Too much to drink,” I answer as I move to the kitchen and grab a bottle of cold water from the refrigerator. I sit down next to her. She looks tired. “You?”
“Okay.”
&nb
sp; “Can’t sleep?”
Cole licks her lips and shakes her head. “No. So do you want to see something?”
“Sure.”
We’ve been talking about the script a lot, and I assume it’s what troubles her. She assures me the role is almost officially mine, but instead of touching the script, she wakes up the laptop, then taps her finger to the screen. “Read.”
I still feel queasy, but do as she asks. I mumble my way through the first part, but become focused very quickly. “A source close to the couple confirms that while they maintain they are just friends and colleagues, they’ve had an intimate relationship from the start of filming. Tortured Desires is an upcoming . . .”
“It’s already on the Associated Press website. Everyone will pick it up and by this weekend, we’ll be on the front pages of most magazines. I’ve got Zara already working on my response, but you should be prepared to make a statement, too. Do you have a publicist?”
I shake my head.
“Zara can craft something for you. You should think about getting one.”
She doesn’t look pissed, and I’m not sure what I should do. This is exactly what she said would happen. Still, I can’t imagine Brady, Cooper, Matty, or Needles telling anyone. “Are you—”
“I’m fine. The studio’s already sent an e-mail though. They like controversy, so as long as we can do a little damage control and make sure the fire doesn’t get out of hand, we should still be fine for Reflections.”
“Who do you think the source is?”
Her expression shifts to one of pity, as if I am just an idiot boy.
“No way my friends said shit, Cole. It could be anyone. Maybe Lucas, or Miranda, or . . .” I don’t say Julie because I don’t want to have to explain about all those times her assistant spilled gossip to me after sex.
Cole holds her hands up and gives me a comforting smile. “Okay. It doesn’t matter. It’s out there, and now we just have to kill it. Make sure everyone thinks it’s a lie.”
“But it’s not a lie,” I say. “We’re together. I love you.”
She raises her hand to touch my cheek.
I press into it. It feels so good to be touched by her, but the worry in me increases. Will I never be able to hold her hand in public? Will we always have to hide?
“You should go back to sleep.”
I stand at her suggestion, then hold out my hand. “So should you.” I almost think she will resist, but she places her hand in mine.
As we lie down together, I have no idea how to navigate these waters. I’ve never had to hide my emotions before. I’ve never had to deny my feelings for someone. I don’t know what I’m going to do, or if I’ll even be able to do it.
Chapter 8
Cole
Even after Devon’s friends left, stories about us surfaced on the celebrity news websites and television shows. Zara did a fantastic job deflecting the attention. Devon and I both remained mostly silent, but two weeks ago when I was asked by a reporter, all I did was smile and say, “All these stories are very flattering, but no, Devon Maddox and I are just friends and coworkers.”
Now that shooting is about to wrap, the pressure is tapering off. Zara and the studio created a diversion with the idea to fabricate a conflict between studio execs and me in addition to releasing a story about my new love interest: a New York CEO. The CEO story has thrown the tabloids off our trail, but the studio conflict is working out the best. Instead of focusing on my alleged relationship with Devon, the tabloids and gossip fiends are now completely obsessed with the idea of Dark Fire studios wanting to can me for being “too artistic” and wasting money.
It’s completely false, of course. Tortured Desires is back on schedule and is projected to come in right on budget. We’ve already signed contracts for Reflections, so it looks like I’ll be working with Dark Fire again in a few months.
They’ve also agreed to my first choice of leads—an actress from Spain and Devon. I showed them a compilation of his work on this movie, and they have agreed to give him the part. All Devon has to do is sign the papers.
There are just a few small things left to shoot in Boston, so we’re all taking an extended weekend. Most of the cast and crew will rest because our schedule is so tight, but Dev and I are flying to New York to meet with the studio representatives.
Being so young and green to the film industry, Devon doesn’t have a lawyer. I’m having Anthony double check the contract for fairness. The studio is young, too, and I have no doubt they’ll try to save money by exploiting Devon’s naivety.
Devon, Julie, my security team, and I are all on the jet I chartered. My guards are all sleeping, except for Xavier, who I think only sleeps when he knows I’m not looking. Julie is in her own world, staring at her portfolio and scribbling notes.
I have no idea what has happened or why, but Julie isn’t the same person she was before Boston. I’ve tried to engage her in conversation, but she refuses to talk about anything with me and is now the queen of one word responses. So far, she still performs her job functions with excellence, but I miss talking with her. It seems like I’ve lost a friend. They’re hard to come by, and even though I pay her for her assistance, I feel like we’re friends, at least we were.
Devon nudges me with his elbow. I look at him, but he is glancing out the window. His hand slides a piece of paper over the armrest. I unfold it. He has very sloppy handwriting, but I like it. It’s a visual reminder of how much he has going on in his mind. He doesn’t have time to neatly write out his thoughts.
When we get to New York, I want you to meet my family.
He still won’t look at me, and I know it’s because he doesn’t want me to see the hopefulness in his eyes. So far, I’ve been the crusher of his romantic dreams, but he doesn’t seem to have the same preservation instincts I have, and he definitely doesn’t have the same experiences of being ripped apart by the media.
I take his hand and run my thumb over his knuckles.
Finally, Devon turns to me. The hopeful gleam is in his eyes, but it fades when he sees my expression.
“We have to be extra careful in New York and Los Angeles,” I tell him quietly. “That’s where everyone will be looking for a picture of us to prove we’re together.”
“Well, why don’t we just admit it, and then they’ll move on to stalk other people.”
I wish it was that easy. “It doesn’t work like that. If we confirm it, every other week one of us will be on the cover of magazines with some kind of fabricated headline about cheating, infidelity, drugs, marriage, babies, you name it. It won’t get better.”
He looks away for a moment, then turns back and leans in to whisper into my ear. “I want everyone to know I love you.”
I hold my breath. He has been saying this stuff a lot lately and his feelings put me on edge. Life is so much easier when those kinds of strong emotions aren’t present. Although I squeeze his hand, I find myself with nothing to say. I’m thankful when we begin our descent into New York.
“You need to be incognito,” I say, handing Devon a ball cap and sun glasses as we get off the plane.
“No one knows who I am, Cole.”
I insist and make him put them on. We take separate cars to my apartment. Xavier arranged for a guard and driver from another company owned by a friend to take Devon. We’re meeting Anthony for dinner to discuss the legalities of the contract the studio e-mailed in advance, but Devon and I will have some time alone before that.
Devon sets down his backpack and takes in my place. “Damn.”
“Do you like it?”
He turns and flashes me a grin. “It’s . . . wow. I mean, you should’ve seen the tiny little place I had before moving to LA, and three other dudes lived in it, too. This is just amazing.”
“Thank you.”
“But that car ride was ridiculous.” He walks to me and places his hands on my hips. “We drove all over the city instead of driving straight here.”
I take his hand an
d lead him farther into my apartment where he’ll be able to see the view. “It’s what we have to do. We had a couple of photogs waiting for us. Did you see them?”
“No. So they were trailing me?”
In front of the large window, I stop, wrap his arms around me and lay my head back against his shoulder. “Yeah. X was in contact with your driver and said you had a few cars following you.”
I can feel his chuckle as it sounds. “That’s so stupid. I mean, who am I?”
I don’t hesitate to answer. “The next big thing and my secret lover, so you’re big news. Tonight when we go to dinner, we’ll have to do the same thing. I’ll go out the front and your security detail will take you out back. Then we’ll arrive at the restaurant at diff—”
“Look at the view. It’s beautiful.” Devon tightens his arms as he curls his body around me. I feel like I’m in a cocoon. “You can see all of Central Park.”
I point to the south. “And way down there is the Empire State building.”
His eyes go wide, like he doesn’t believe me. “No shit.” He shifts his body to see, so I take the opportunity to grab his hand and take him out on the balcony for a better look.
Devon stops. “Aren’t you afraid someone will see us together?” His tone is stiff.
Tugging on his hand, I say, “If someone snaps a picture all the way up here, they deserve to find out.”
He gets behind me again, and wraps his arms around my torso while we look out into the New York landscape. “Why don’t you live here all of the time?”
“It’s harder to secure; there’re more people in closer proximity, and I’m not great with random people.”
“You seem fine when you go to premiers and when you go to clubs.”
“Hollywood shit is easy. I can take a pill my doctor gives me, and I’m golden, but usually I’m calm simply because I’ve done it so many times. Clubs are easy because I know my people are all around. Out on the streets, it could be chaos. Right after I got out of the hospital, and I was fumbling around with how to even be, a swarm of people just swallowed me up. I had no idea where my security guy was.”