Last First Kiss

by Sidney Halston

  “I’m sorry to disappoint, Ms. Clad.”

  “It’s okay, I’m sure when I get a gig with a real movie star, someone like Bradley Cooper, I’ll get to witness the real thing.”

  “You’re going to pay for that little comment later.”

  She laughed and sat back. “So, you have to do this every day?”

  “Yep. Every day.”

  “God, it’s creepy.”

  “No more talking, I have to glue this on and finish a few things,” the makeup artist said.

  He sat back and watched Annie from the mirror. They’d woken up tangled in each other. Turned out, Annie was a snuggler. Her head had rested on the crook of his shoulder, an arm over his chest, and a thigh over his legs. Also interesting was that he found that he liked it. Normally he slept sprawled out, taking over the entire bed. Always hot, he’d kick off the covers. This time her warmth felt good and he couldn’t get enough.

  Another interesting fact, Annie was not a morning person. For all that she woke up earlier than fuck, she woke up moody and gave him the finger the three times he tried to talk to her. Once she’d showered, dressed, and had her shake, she was back to herself—prickly but not bitchy.

  She was in full-on bodyguard mode now though. Fully concentrated when she arrived. No-nonsense, demanding, and assertive. The crew seemed both fascinated and terrified—much like he was. They hadn’t addressed their personal relationship with anyone. Hell, they hadn’t even defined it to themselves. But at this point, it felt rather silly keeping it a secret since there wasn’t any media around. And even though she was all business, he couldn’t keep his hands off of her. They’d walked in holding hands, so the cat seemed to be out of the bag, but no one had questioned it and he wasn’t going to be the one to address it either. It was no one’s business.

  She was reading the call schedule, making notes and typing into her phone. “Do you actually memorize the lines?” she asked, without looking up.

  “Some of them,” he mumbled. “It would be really helpful if you went over lines with me later. I’ve been having to do them alone.”

  “Okay. I guess I can do that.”

  “Wow, you’re so amiable this morning, crazy.”

  “Suck my dick, Monroe.” But she said it with a smile that melted his heart. The hairdresser and makeup artist both snorted.

  “Mini Cooper. Blue. Stick shift.”

  She laughed even harder this time. “Nope.”

  A knock on the door startled everyone. Annie was on her feet with her Glock in her hands before the words from the knocker came out. “Five minutes!”

  “Put that away, crazy,” Rocco said from the chair. “That’s one of the PAs.”

  “Fuck.” She exhaled and reholstered her weapon. “This is going to be a long-ass week if these PAs do that shit often.”

  He chuckled. “Poor PAs, I’m thinking they’re not going to make it to the end of the day.”

  * * *

  For the last few days, she’d seen Rocco walk around whispering lines. Sometimes he’d sit on the couch with the script talking out loud. Now, watching from a canvas director’s chair off to the side, as he spoke with an accent she hadn’t been expecting to one of his “generals,” she was genuinely impressed. The man was talented.

  The way the words rolled off his tongue so easily and sensually was mesmerizing. But she needed to keep her eyes on her surroundings, not on the man throwing orders, wielding an automatic weapon, dressed from head to toe in an expensive suit and tie, looking out of place in the “jungles of Colombia” when his comrades were rattily dressed, full of mud and filth.

  She also tried not to think about how those hands and that mouth had been on every single inch of her body last night. She’d woken up feeling so different this morning. There was an underlying ache all over her body and when she shifted a certain way. It wasn’t unpleasant, per se, it was different. And when his eyes found hers, which was often, her entire body came alive. It was as if they shared a secret—a naughty little secret. But she had to find a way to get her shit together. This was work, and it wasn’t an office job where when you missed a deadline, your boss became pissed. No, this was the kind of work where if you screwed up, people became dead.

  Sitting up straighter, she looked away from Rocco and instead focused on the surroundings. Nothing unusual was happening, and where they were filming was so secluded, she didn’t think anyone would even know they were there. Joey had contracted some of the guys to come in the previous days to scope out the area and make sure everything was copacetic.

  A black limo, caked with mud, slowed near where the rest of the vehicles were parked. On alert, Annie stood up, her hand on her back gripping the steel of her weapon as she watched carefully. Ben stepped out of the driver’s side and went around to open the door for Julia. Immediately Annie released her weapon and sat back down and to watch the out-of-place diva. As soon as her foot landed on the ground, her spiky heel sunk deep into the mud, causing her to screech and flail her hands around, saying something to a young woman who followed out of the car as well.

  Was Ben laughing? It seemed like it. Normally, she’d reprimand him for being unprofessional, but in this case she couldn’t help but snicker at the other woman’s ridiculousness. Between the ease of her job out here in the middle of nowhere, and the trouble Julia would surely get into, today would be a very interesting, if not humorous, day.

  * * *

  “So, she’s really your bodyguard, huh?” Julia asked Rocco as they waited for the lighting people to set up for the new scene.

  “Let’s just work, okay?”

  “I guess that’s a yes, then.” She ran a long red fingernail down his arm. “I knew something was off. I didn’t think she was your type.”

  He swatted her hand away. “You don’t know what is or is not my type. We’re here to work. That’s all.”

  “You know how much PR we could get if you and I hooked up? The crowds would eat that up. Plus”—she stepped closer—“it would be so fun.”

  He was starting to get upset. He looked over Julia’s shoulder and saw Annie quickly avert her eyes. How bad did it look? He didn’t want Annie to get the wrong impression. “No it wouldn’t. You’re with Lawrence. Have some fucking class.”

  Julia was a straight up bitch. There were really no other words to describe her. She wasn’t always that way. When he’d met her ten years ago, she was fresh-faced, bright-eyed and ambitious. Just like he was. Except he always remembered where he came from and Julia must’ve forgotten since her feet were so far from the ground, she was flying high. And her spineless husband was so blind, Rocco actually felt bad for him.

  He stomped away and was going to go to Annie to explain but she wasn’t there. “On set!” the PA called.

  “Damn it,” he whispered to himself, looking quickly around before he was shuffled away.

  The rest of the day went more or less the same, but Julia was more subdued after he’d quickly shut her down and Annie was back in the one of the directors’ chairs. His eyes would find her every time they had even a moment between takes. It was as if there was an invisible tether connecting them. The way she felt, smelled, tasted—it was intoxicating. That was the word to describe it. Intoxicating. She was a drug and he wouldn’t—couldn’t—stay away.

  “Let’s try to make this the last take! Monroe, you with us?” Spelling hollered from the side.

  “Yes, sorry,” he mumbled as he got into the mind-set to play a ruthless drug dealer.

  Craft services set up lunch on a large picnic table while Annabelle and Ben were chatting off in a corner. It bothered him that she was so chatty with the other bodyguard. Yes, they were colleagues, but he was a selfish bastard and wanted her to give him all her attention. “Hey, Tiger, you gonna eat something?” he interrupted them.

  “Yes. Be right there,” she said, all-business, and turned back around pointing to something at the edge of the surroundings.

  “Good idea. We can take shifts . .
.” Rocco didn’t hear the rest of the conversation as he sat down at the long table.

  “Well, they seem friendly,” Julia said, cutting an annoyingly small piece from a tomato. She was like a bird, everything she ate was small and precise. He remembered how much that had irked him when they’d briefly dated all those years ago. Funny how Annie had a weird eating habit, but it didn’t bother him. No, in fact, he wanted to take care of her, make sure she ate. With Julia, he couldn’t give a fuck, even back then. She wanted to eat lettuce all day—fine by him.

  “That’s because they’re friends,” he answered, knowing full well what she was doing. Trying to poison him, plant a seed of doubt. And he wasn’t going to bite. He refused.

  “I can’t believe we’re eating at a dreadful picnic table.” She ate while she complained. “This is absurd.”

  He wasn’t going to engage in her childish antics, so he ignored her, looking back up at Ben and Annie.

  Ben moved away toward the clearing they’d been talking about, and Annie walked toward the table. “Hey, want something to eat?” he asked as she sat next to him.

  She reached forward and took a sandwich. “This is good. I’m starved.”

  “You want me to have them set up a blender for you?”

  She stopped mid-bite and turned her face to him. “You’re sweet, Monroe. But I’m good. Thank you, though.”

  “No problem, crazy. Just let me know.” He kissed her cheek and then continued to eat the shrimp pasta he’d been served. When he looked up, Julia was looking at them with disdain, but he didn’t give a fuck, he just held her stare, daring her to say a single word.

  “Ben and I are taking turns going around the perimeter,” Annie said to Julia, completely unconcerned that the woman was shooting daggers at her. “I’m uncomfortable with the lack of security and telephone reception. Just Ben and me to cover about seventy people . . . those aren’t good odds.”

  “What are you trying to tell me? You’re my babysitter while Ben’s away?”

  “No. I just thought you’d like to know where Ben was. You don’t have to be a raving bitch about it,” she replied completely matter-of-factly as she took a bite of her sandwich.

  Julia put her hands on the table and leaned forward. “What did you just say to me?”

  “Settle down.” Rocco waved at Julia, then teasingly elbowed Anabelle. “Babe, eat your sandwich.” He said it with a smirk. She gave him the finger without missing a beat.

  And fuck him—he could spend a lifetime with her and never get bored.

  The rest of the day became hectic when it seemed like it was going to rain, so everyone was on a frenzy to get a few key scenes done in order to stay on schedule. Julia continued her snarky attitude, but the woman could act. Once she was in character, she was Victoria Mendoza and Annie couldn’t see her as anything else but Victoria.

  * * *

  “Chevy Impala?” Rocco asked as they buckled up. It was already past eight at night and they were both beat.

  She laughed. They were still playing this? “Nope. You’ll never guess.”

  They’d been shooting for twelve straight hours, and when the mosquitoes became vampiric and Julia had a fit, Spelling wrapped up production for the day. “So what did you think, crazy?”

  “Sometimes I’m crazy and sometimes I’m Tiger?”

  “You’re always a little bit of both.” He reached for her hand and squeezed. “But I like both. So, tell me, your first day on a set, what did you think?”

  “I’m impressed. You really take on a different persona.”

  “Ye of little faith,” he said as he exited the park and headed onto the highway.

  “I had faith. I’ve seen your movies. But this is different and you know it. You’re like . . . another person. Physically, your voice, mannerisms, everything. Did you study him?”

  He smiled and looked at her before looking back onto the road. “I Googled him. There’s some videos, mostly homemade things. He was very private.”

  “Obviously. He was wanted by everyone. Murder, drug trafficking, you name it.”

  “Yeah, but even in his circle, he was private. They say he was paranoid. He thought everyone was the enemy. The ransom on his head was huge—if anyone talked, they’d be rich. So he kept quiet, not trusting even his inner sanctum. It’s rumored he even had doubles.”

  “You think he’s still alive?”

  “Hard to know. But if he is, he’d be ninety-one. So if that’s what you’re thinking . . .”

  “No. No!” She shook her head. “I’m pretty certain it’s not one particular individual but just a group of people who idolize him.”

  “Well, it seems pretty quiet now.”

  “You do remember a brick being tossed through your balcony window last week, right?”

  “Yeah, but they were caught and they were just kids. Overzealous people trying to scare me.”

  “And you’re not.”

  He turned and winked. “I’ve got the best bodyguard in the world, how could I be?”

  She rolled her eyes and tried to hide a smile but then she remembered Julia. Ugh!

  The thought of Julia touching him was engraved into her brain and she couldn’t shake it off. She had to, though. The scenes called for more than just a little touch. At some point they’d have to kiss and she had to deal with it. Anyway, he wasn’t hers. Having sex once didn’t make him hers. She had no right to get possessive, even if every nerve ending in her body wanted her to yell at the top of her lungs, He’s mine! Stay away!

  He was turning her into an immature brat and she hated herself for it. He was a thirty-seven-year-old man. She was an inexperienced twenty-seven-year-old woman, and the last thing Rocco would want was a ridiculous childish spectacle.

  But as if he could read her mind, he said, seemingly absentmindedly, “you know, Julia’s just a co-star. There’s nothing between us.”

  “You don’t need—”

  The grip on his hand on the steering wheel tightened and he looked upset—angry, even. “I don’t need to what? Explain? You don’t care what happens with me and another woman?” She was glad they were almost home, she didn’t really want to have this conversation. She was having a hard time differentiating between Rocco the man and Rocco the actor.

  “I do care,” she said letting go of his hand and undoing her ponytail and then redoing it.

  “You do that when you’re nervous or upset.” She let go of her hair and glared at him even though it surprised her that he knew that. No one had ever called her out on that. Or maybe no one had ever noticed her nervous habit. “I’m not nervous or upset,” she lied.

  They arrived at his house and he parked the car. “Stay here,” she said as the garage door closed behind them.

  “We’re not done with this conversation.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about. Don’t move until I come back,” she said, slamming the door behind her.

  Taking her weapon out of her back holster, she swept the two-car garage first. Then, she disarmed the alarm and stealthily walked inside and looked around. When she was sure everything was exactly the way she left it, she went back into the garage and signaled for him to come inside.

  “I need a gun,” he said, surprising her.

  “Excuse me?”

  “A gun,” he repeated, gesturing to the one she still had in her hand. “I need one. What if someone crept up on me while I was in my car waiting for you?”

  “First, you keep saying that this is all bullshit. That no one is out to get you. And second, I swept the garage, no one was going to creep up on you. And last, and most important, you don’t know how to shoot a gun.”

  “Excuse me? Have you seen Death Kisses, or Exes and Ohs? I had guns for both of those movies, and those are just the most recent. My Western—”

  She bent over in laughter.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Rocco, those were movies. This is real. This can kill someone.”

  “I know that,” he s
aid, his eyes narrowing. “I took real lessons with real guns, I’ll have you know. And for this movie, not only with a semi-automatic weapon but with an automatic weapon.”

  “Really?” She was surprised to hear that. “Well, the next time you have some free time, I’ll take you by ICS. We have a full shooting range. If I feel you can handle yourself, I’ll see about getting you a weapon.”

  She went to turn around but before she knew it, she was airborne and slung over his shoulder. She couldn’t help the yelp that came out of her lips. “Monroe! Put me down.”

  He slapped her ass—hard. “Ow!”

  “You’ll see about getting me a gun? You lost your mind, crazy? I’m a grown-ass man,” he said, not even sounding breathless, as he climbed up the steps with her on his shoulder.

  “Put me down.”

  “No. And since I have you in a position where you can’t complain, change the subject or run away, we’re going to talk a little about us.”

  “Us? Rocco, you don’t have to explain—”

  “Shut it, babe,” he said, slapping her ass again. “And while we’re at it, take out the ponytail.”

  “What?”

  “Take it out,” he demanded. “Or I’ll make your ass so red you won’t be able to sit for a week.”

  “Suck my dick, Monroe.”

  SLAP.

  “Ouch!”

  “Again? I’ll give you to the count of three. One, two . . .”

  For some reason, his hand on her ass didn’t feel unwelcome. It hurt, but since he was following it with a deep rub, his hand going a little closer to her pussy than it needed to be, she was actually more turned on than she’d ever imagined. “Two and a half . . .”

  “Okay okay okay!” she yelled, and took off her ponytail, slinging the band across the room, her hair draping almost to his knees.

  With an oomph, he tossed her on the bed, unexpectedly, and before she had a chance to recover, he straddled her thighs and held her hands together. If she really wanted to, she could fight him off, she knew hand-to-hand combat, had taken a number of martial arts classes, and was more fit than he’d given her credit for. But she didn’t want to fight him. She wanted to hear him out. But most of all, she didn’t want actor Rocco right now. She wanted real Rocco.