We are in the suite within minutes. As soon as the door is closed and locked, the talking ends. Olivia grabs me and shoves me up against the door. I smile. She’s a take control, holds no prisoners, kind of gal. She likes it loud and rough, and I have no problem going along for the ride. Her lips meet mine in a hard crush. She moans. I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her body flush against mine. I palm her luscious ass and rub my growing erection against her pelvis.
She grabs my hair and yanks my head back, exposing my neck. She nips, licks, and sucks at my neck. I hiss as jolts of pleasure race down to my groin. Olivia’s hands leave my hair so she can rip my shirt up over my head. Her hands snake down my chest and stomach as she devours my mouth again. My breath catches when her hand grips me through my pants. The roughness in which Chance grabbed me and kissed me flashes through my mind. For a second, I imagine that it is Chance’s mouth attacking mine, and his hand palming me through my pants. I gasp, pushing Olivia back as my eyes fly open. She gives me a questioning look.
I swallow hard and shake my head. “Bed, let’s move over to the bed,” I rasp.
She smiles seductively and backs up, hooking her fingers into the top of my pants, tugging me with her. She shoves me onto the bed then crawls on top of me. She pushes up onto her knees as she straddles my thighs and undoes my fly so she can pull off my pants and underwear. I watch her hungrily as she shoves my legs apart. My engorged cock is throbbing and in desperate need of relief. She settles on her knees between my legs, pushing her blonde hair to one side as she leans down and takes me into her hot little mouth. I moan as my eyes slide closed.
Again, my mind betrays me. I imagine that it’s Chance’s mouth wrapped around my cock. That it’s Chance’s hands massaging my thighs and balls. What the fuck is going on? My eyes flip open and I lift my head to stare down at the woman going to town between my legs. Her hair is brushed to one side so that I can see her face and watch my dick slide between her plump lips. Okay, no more closing my eyes. I need to watch Olivia so that I don’t think of Chance again.
I have to stop her when I get close because I want to be inside of her when I come. Olivia slips off the bed and slowly strips for me. She grabs a condom from her purse before rejoining me on the bed, but I snatch it from her and tear it open so I can roll it on. Olivia climbs on top of me, her knees on either side of my hips. She guides me into her as she sinks down. I hiss out a breath, baring my teeth as she starts to move. Fuck! She’s so warm and tight. I grip her hips tight, slamming up into her as she comes down on me.
My eyes slip closed involuntarily. Goddammit! I picture that it’s Chance riding me, my cock shoving into his tight ass. I bite my bottom lip. Fuck me! I hear a female voice cry out and I know it’s Olivia, but I can’t force myself away from the image playing in my head. Chance’s hard body moving over mine - his face a mask of ecstasy, his skin glistening with sweat, making the hair at his temples damp. I shout as my orgasm shoots through me, rocking my whole body. I shove in deep, holding myself there as my cock pulses and empties into the condom.
“Shit,” I grunt and scrub my face with my hands. I hate him, simple as that.
Chapter Three
Parker
I don’t even recognize myself anymore. Everyone knows me as an easy going, fun guy. The life of the party. Always a smile on my face. The person you go to when you need cheering up or a shoulder to lean on. I’m “that guy.” At least I used to be. But once again, I’m in a shit mood. Ever since I took this role, I find myself in this predicament. And it’s not the long hours thing or the gay thing. It’s the goddamn Chance Steele thing. That dick is going to be the death of me. After the stunt he pulled yesterday, kissing me after final cut, I haven’t been able to get that shit out of my head. I can’t get him out of my head, and that pisses me off to no end.
We are sitting with the director, Jerry, his assistant, Morgan, a few producers, other actors, etc., to do a table reading of the script, just to get a feel for the next few scenes that we are going to have to shoot. Chance is sitting across from me, a stupid shit-eatin’ grin on his face. It’s like he knows that he got to me and he’s being smug about it.
Chance reads one of his lines, but he doesn’t say it with the right inflection. It is supposed to be a question, but he read it as a statement because he’s just reading it, not acting it, which is annoying…and lazy. I’m not saying go all out, but shit, put some effort into it.
“Can you read it the right way?” I ask in annoyance.
Chance blows me a kiss and winks. “For you, baby, anything,” he purrs.
I give him a disgusted look. “Don’t fucking do that shit to me, asshole,” I growl.
“What’s the matter? Afraid you’ll like it?” he challenges, cocking an eyebrow.
I shoot to my feet and immediately reach across the table, grabbing him by his collar and yanking him up to his feet. I get in his face. “I’m about two seconds away from smashing your face in, Steele, you better knock that shit off,” I snarl.
A slow grin curls his lips and I realize a second too late what he’s planning to do; otherwise, I would have backed up. Fucker kisses me on the mouth…..again. That’s it! I scramble over the table, still holding onto his shirt. Chairs and papers go flying as I tackle him to the ground. The scuffle begins. We’re both giving shots as much as taking them while we roll around, grappling on the floor. I end up on top. I still have his collar, which is now ripped, and I’m wailing on his face and head. He has his arms up, trying to cover himself as best as he can until someone finally has the balls to break it up. A couple of the other guys that are in the room grab me and haul me off of Chance. I glare at him as I’m forced into a chair. I can hear yelling but I’m not really paying attention to what is being said. I’m trying to catch my breath when the director, Jerry, steps in front of me.
“What the fuck is your problem?” he squawks.
I gape at the man. “My problem? That fucking asshole just kissed me!” I shout, pointing at Chance, who is now sitting in a chair also.
“And? You’re playing a gay couple! You’re gonna have to get comfortable enough with him to kiss him!” he barks.
“I get that! But we weren’t reading a kissing scene! He did it to fucking harass me!”
Jerry looks back and forth between us. “You think I don’t know that you two don’t get along? I can see the hostility when you two look at each other. This can’t continue. We’re going to take a week break, and on this break, you two better learn how to get along or I will replace you both,” Jerry says seriously.
“What the hell are we supposed to do?” I ask in confusion.
“I don’t give a shit. Hang out, take dance lessons, go to a club, go to dinner - just get together and get along; otherwise, you’re both out. And don’t think I won’t have Morgan check up on you two. We’re done for the day, everyone go home.”
With a parting disapproving glance, Jerry leaves. Chance and I sit in the chairs that we were placed in and watch as everyone gathers their things and leaves us. After the final person leaves and the door shuts, I point a finger at Chance.
“This is all your fucking fault,” I snap angrily.
“Oh, grow the fuck up, Parker,” Chance mutters in irritation as he dabs his bloody nose with the hem of his T-shirt.
I gape at him, speechless. Not only did he tell me to grow the fuck up, but also he called me by my name, not one of his dumbass nicknames that he likes to call me.
“This was one of my favorite shirts,” he grumbles to himself as he tugs it over his head and wads it up under his nose.
I can only roll my eyes and look away. If I have to be chained to this dickhead, it’s going to be on my terms. I pull out my cell and text Calvin.
Parker: Hey, man! Need a favor
Calvin: Anything
Parker: Just got into it with Chance. Director ordered us to work it out
Calvin: That sucks bro
Parker: Fuck! Tell me about it. Can I bring
him to the club?
Calvin: Send me his info & I’ll rush a background request
Parker: Thanks, my man. Talk soon
Calvin: No problem. Later
“I’m going to my trailer. I need a shower,” I say to nobody in particular.
“Shall I join you, Ham hock?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow. "Or do you prefer Ham cock?"
I just don’t have it in me to banter with this prick, so I continue out the door. But I just can’t let it go, needing to have the last word. Just as the door is about to close, I throw a “Fuck you, Steele,” over my shoulder. But satisfaction never comes as I hear him chuckling as the door slams shut. Son of a bitch!
Chance
Parker called me late last night and asked if I had any ideas on how to do our punishment without killing each other. It seems the only thing we really have in common is that we both like working out. Looks like we’ll be spending a lot of time at the gym this week.
I'm not in the mood to lift weights, so I head right toward the treadmills. A nice long run will do me good. Parker follows me. I pick a machine and step onto it, placing my bottle of water in the cup holder and my towel over the rail. My phone is attached to my bicep, so I place my ear buds in my ears and turn on my running music, which is pretty much anything loud with a good beat that I can lose myself in. My mood today dictates a little Nine Inch Nails. I, too, would rather die than give him control. I see Parker out of the corner of my eye, doing the same thing and roll my eyes in annoyance.
I start the treadmill at a slower warm up pace. 2% incline and about 3.0 mph. Parker follows, glancing at my screen to see what speed I'm at. He ups his by a couple of numbers. I smile to myself and shake my head. He has no idea what he's starting. Doesn't he realize that I was in the army and could run all day if I had to? He thinks he can beat me? Run faster than I can? A longer amount of time? He's got another thing coming. I let it go for the moment, just until my muscles warm up, and then he's in for it.
Five minutes later, I up my incline and speed. 4% incline and 7.0 mph. I'm not sprinting yet, just a fast jog. Parker ups his speed as well, setting it just a little higher than mine. I glance over at him and raise an eyebrow in question. He gives me a smug smirk before turning away. Idiot.
I let another couple of minutes pass before upping the incline and speed again. 6% and 10.0 mph. I see Parker up his out of the corner of my eye. We are no longer jogging; we are now running. I can see that Parker is already breaking a sweat and panting a little bit. I up my speed again. 7% incline and 12.0 mph. I am pushing myself, but still have more juice if need be.
Parker's eyes flick to my speed and widen a little before he ups his. I shake my head. He's gonna freaking hurt himself.
"Dude, stop. I can run circles around you in my sleep, you're not going to win this," I tell him.
Parker's gaze settles on mine; apparently, I just threw down the gauntlet. His blue eyes are full of challenge and stubbornness. I can't help but think how sexy he looks when he looks at me like that.
"Fuck...you," he wheezes.
I purse my lips to fight off the smile that threatens. I shrug. "You asked for it."
I up my speed to where I am full out sprinting. I don't think the machine can go any higher. Parker follows. Sonofabitch! He's going to kill himself! I'm just about to stop this nonsense when I hear a strangled cry from my dumbass running partner. Just as I look over at him, he stumbles, going down hard before being shot off the treadmill like a bullet out of a gun. He summersaults across the floor until he slams into the mirrored wall behind us. I quickly jump my feet onto the sides and shut down the machine. Sucking in air, I turn around to see Parker upside down against the wall with his feet over his head. I burst out laughing at the ridiculous sight in front of me. He slides to the side, his drenched shirt leaving a streak across the mirror as he falls over. I hop off the treadmill and walk over to him. Panting, I stand over him with my hands on my hips. He's breathing hard, lying in the fetal position on the floor. I notice that his forearms, knees, and shins are rubbed raw from the belt of the treadmill.
"I told you to stop." I pant, still trying to catch my breath from running and laughing.
Parker flips me the bird. "I hate you."
I can't help but burst out laughing all over again as the scene replays in my mind. I will never, ever let him live this down. Never.
"Don't just fucking stand there, help me up." Parker grunts, holding out his hand.
I reach down and pull him to his feet. He hisses in pain and folds his arm to look at the belt burn that has rubbed his skin off.
"You're lucky you didn't hit your face." I snicker.
He gives me a dirty look. "I'm sure you would have just loved that."
I gasp in mock offense. "Who me? No way."
Parker's lip lifts in a sneer. "You're a dick. I might not be able to out run you, but I bet I can do more pull ups than you."
I sigh and shake my head. "No, you can't."
"I'll bet you I can," he insists.
"What do you want if you win?" I ask, raising an eyebrow curiously.
"You at my every beck and call for a full 24 hours," he states.
“Who am I? Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman?” I snicker.
He just raises an eyebrow.
I nod. "Fine," I agree, rolling my eyes.
"What do you want if you win?" he asks me.
"I want a make out session," I answer.
"What does that entail?" Parker asks tightly.
"Kissing - with tongues, some groping, and it has to last for at least five minutes," I tell him and hold out my hand to seal the deal.
Parker stares at my hand for a moment. I can see the wheels turning and can tell that he's debating whether or not to back out. Suddenly, he clasps my hand and shakes it. I smile slowly; he has no idea how badly he's going to lose. And I am seriously looking forward to getting my hands on him. My fingers are itching to run all over him, to grab onto his muscular arms, to squeeze his taut ass. I shake those thoughts free before I pop a boner in the middle of the gym.
We head over to the pull up bars and get situated on two that are side by side. Basically, we're going to keep going until someone falls off. I don't know why he feels the need to challenge me. I must invoke his competitive nature or something.
We both jump up and grip the bars above our heads. I give us a three count and we're off. At first, we are keeping pace with each other. Once we get to fifty, Parker starts to slow slightly, doing one for every two that I do. After I reach seventy-five, he is seriously struggling. I can see his arms shaking and the tendons in his neck straining. His face is bright red and he's grunting loudly.
"Just...give...up..." I grit out between pull-ups. "I...can...go...on...forever."
Parker hangs from the bar, his chin to his chest, his breathing coming fast and hard. "Fuck me," he breathes before dropping to the floor. He immediately folds his legs and drops to his ass.
I do a few more pull ups just for show then drop to my feet. I stretch my arms above my head, linking my hands together leaning to the side. I need to stretch my Lats to make sure they don’t tighten up. "I hope you’re done with trying to outdo me, Parker," I mumble. I use his proper name because, well, I really don't want to compete with him anymore, especially since he is a sore loser.
"I'm done." He sighs.
"Good, let’s go get showered up and get out of here so I can collect on our bet," I say and take a long drink of my water.
Parker groans but doesn't argue. We head for the locker room and each take a quick shower. After we get dressed, Parker drops me off at home, tells me to pack some clothes and shit, and says that he has to run some errand before picking me back up in about an hour.
Parker…
I got a call from Calvin just before I jumped into the shower at the gym and he said that the background check was in and he wanted to discuss it with me in person. Why he couldn’t just tell me on the phone, I don’t know. So now my stomach is r
oiling. I feel like I’ve been summoned to the principal’s office. I didn’t tell Chance that I had asked Calvin to do a check on him, so I make an excuse to drop him at home and head to the club. I tell him that I’ll pick him up in an hour. I guess I am going to be his chauffer for the week since he doesn’t have a car here. I kind of like it that way anyway, makes me feel more in control of the situation.
We both agreed not to spend too much time apart in case Morgan does in fact check up on us. As much as we dislike each other, neither of us wants to lose this job. Not only is the movie going to be a blockbuster, but we also don’t want to get the reputation for being difficult to work with. That will kill a career faster than you can say Kardashian sex tape. Although, that’s what made her career isn’t it? Shit, well, you know what I mean. Anyway, by going to the gym every day, if she calls, we can just tell her that we needed to shower after our workouts or whatnots so that we are not glued to each other 24/7.
I say a quick hello to Monica at the entrance and slide on my mask. She asks if I need a room key, but I politely decline. I also decide to not wear my nametag since I’m not here to meet anyone. It’s against the rules, but Calvin doesn’t enforce it on me, Nick, or Delilah. I push through the double wooden doors and head straight to Calvin’s office, making sure not to make eye contact with any of the women.
“What do you mean you are denying him access?” I ask Calvin, clearly not happy with this piece of news.
“He didn’t pass background,” he states calmly. “What happened to your arms?”
“I need you guys as a buffer, man, come on!” I respond, not so calmly and ignore his question about my arms.
“Sorry, dude, but there a few things on there I can’t look past,” he tells me, still calm as a cucumber.
“Like what?” I shout. “There can’t be anything that bad. The prick’s ex-military.”
“He is? I didn’t see that on his record. You know I can’t tell you what’s on there,” Calvin tells me as he picks up the background check and re-examines it.
Crossing The Line (A Taboo Love series Book 3) Page 3