Filthy Commitments: A Submissives’ Secrets Novel

by Michelle Love

  “Um,” Hayley hesitated and in that second, Nan knew.

  “Hays … are you at Skandar’s place?”

  “Yeah, we came home to play PlayStation, and you know, it got late, so I crashed here.”

  Nan smothered a smile. “Well, that’s cool. Look, I don’t want to disturb, just to say I have that parent/teacher thing tonight so I’ll be late home. Call if you’ll be out, okay?”

  See, she could do ‘cool older sister’ in her sleep. To be honest, she was relieved that Hayley was with Skandar—he could keep her safe, at least.

  “Sure thing,” Hayley said, catching onto her tone. She lowered her voice. “Thanks, sis, love you.”

  “Love you, too,” Nan replied and saying bye, she put down her phone just as Joel reappeared, his face grim.

  “Kit’s flying in to try and persuade Skandar to do the interview.”

  Nan nodded. “Will he do it?”

  Joel sighed. “I honestly don’t know.”

  “Sure, let’s do it,” Skandar shrugged nonchalantly later that day. Kit Mallory grinned at his family.

  “See? The kid’s up for it, so what’s the problem?”

  Hayley glared at the man. She didn’t care if he was the most famous actor in the world; he was a giant douchebag. That was her first impression, and she wasn’t changing it in a hurry. Yes, he was staggeringly good-looking (although nothing on Skandar, she decided somewhat smugly), his long blond hair coiffed perfectly into perfect surfer style, his blue eyes enhanced with contacts. Skandar, his usual easygoing self, who was still living on the high from the charges being dropped, and from their lovemaking, didn’t see the harm but Joel, Randall, and Jakob were dead set against it.

  “It opens you up to any questions they want to ask about your relationship with Annika,” Joel told his son, but Skandar grinned good-naturedly.

  “It'll be fine, Pa. I haven’t got anything to hide.”

  Kit grinned his thousand-watt smile and clapped his hands together. “Good, that’s settled. Cherry,” he barked at the poor PA, who looked exhausted and hungry. “Get that confirmed.”

  “Maybe Cherry would like something to eat and some rest first.” Randall Mallory was usually a calm, warm center but his voice, this time, took on an edge. Hayley watched as Kit graciously inclined his head in agreement. Ran Mallory’s words apparently carried some weight with his famous son, if no one else’s did.

  Nan stood and held her hand out to Cherry. “Come, let's grab some food and I'll take you up to your room.”

  Cherry followed her out, as did Hayley. Nan nudged her sister. “I got the good twin,” she muttered, and Hayley snorted.

  “Word,” she shot back, and she saw Cherry nod, her tired eyes amused.

  “You’re not wrong,” she blurted out, then looked alarmed, as if she’d said too much. Hayley tucked her arm under hers.

  “What’s said here stays here. How the hell do you not beat his ass with a baseball bat?”

  They were in the kitchen then, and Nan made a sandwich and heated some soup. Cherry smiled at them gratefully. “He pays very well,” Cherry admitted, “and he’s not always like that. Sometimes I get to see the real Kit—he’s not so bad.”

  Nana and Hayley exchanged a look, and Cherry chuckled. “No, it's not like that, I don't have a crush. I have a very patient, very understanding wife at home.”

  Hayley grinned. “Then pretend you’re having a crush on Asia—that’ll get to him.”

  “Hayley,” Nan warned, and Cherry shook her head, smiling.

  “I’d never do that. That was one time Kit genuinely was crushed. He still loves Asia.”

  Skandar and Hayley drove out to Discovery Park then hiked the mile and a half to the West Point Lighthouse. The weather had turned cooler, and the fall leaves were flaming red and gold. They found some driftwood to sit on, Skandar with his arm around her, looking out to the lighthouse and the water. Hayley leaned her head on his shoulder and Skandar pressed his lips to her forehead.

  “You okay, Hays? After last night, I mean.”

  She looked up and smiled. “More than, Skandar Mallory. You made everything so … natural, and easy and exhilarating. You made it perfect.”

  Skandar nodded. “You’re the perfect one,” he said, his voice thick. He cleared his throat, then grinned his wicked smile. “Although you are making me all mushy, which is not acceptable at all.”

  “It’s revolting, isn’t it?”

  “Totally.” He laughed along with her. “Actually, I do have an admission … there’s someone else.”

  Because he was grinning, she knew not to be shocked or scared, but still, it stung a little. “The floozy.”

  “Want the story?”

  “Well, I’m going to need to know whose ass to kick, so yeah,” she pretended to be angry. He grinned.

  “Jealous. You don't need to be; I've never met her. I'm even presuming she's a ‘she', although I'm pretty sure. Promise you won’t think I’m the biggest geek?”

  “Too late.”

  “Ha ha, funny girl. Well, it gets lonely on tour, especially when Carlos has the key to my chastity belt.”

  She stuck her tongue at him.

  “So, I found this forum, this sci-fi nerd heaven and starting lurking on it. After a while, I found this thread where this person was posting, and we got to talking on the forum, then later, private messaging.”

  Hayley was staring at him in shock. “Skan … which forum is this?”

  Skandar looked sheepish. “Battlestar Galactica and Cap ...”

  “Caprica,” she finished for him.

  He looked amazed. “Yeah, you know it?”

  She nodded, trying not to grin. “Yeah, I love it. Ask me who my favorite character is, Skandar.”

  Something was tugging at his brain. “Who?”

  “Sam Adama.”

  It hit him then. “You’re Samadamadingdong?”

  “You’re SkunkMaladyBibble.”

  “Holy shivering fuck,” he said and started to laugh. “Of all the … wow. We were really meant to be, huh?”

  She flushed with pleasure at his words. “I think so.”

  Skandar kissed her, tilting her chin with a gentle hand. “Hayley Applebee, you are my world now. I am away a lot—do you think you could live with that? You’re always welcome to come with me, of course, but I know you have college. I want to make us work. Can you trust me?”

  She nodded. “With my life,” she said and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him fiercely. “Hey, … so … it’s getting cold and um, well, I need … practice so ...”

  Skandar grinned. “You got it, beautiful … let’s go back to my place.”

  Hayley lay back in Skandar’s arms, sweat-drenched, her body reeling from making love. God, if this was what it was like … she grinned at him. “You may have turned me into a nympho.”

  He laughed. “That’s just because you have no one to compare me to.” His stomach growled, and she giggled. “Well, thanks, belly, that’s ruined the moment. God, I’m starving. Pizza?”

  “Hell, yes.”

  Skandar scooted out of bed and threw on his jeans. “I'll order some.” He went out to grab his phone and Hayley got up and reached for her clothes. Then something caught her eye, and she stopped and smiled. When she walked out to join Skandar, she was wearing a white shirt of his, halfway buttoned up, the length of it falling to just above her knee. Skandar was just finishing up ordering and grinned.

  “Wow.”

  Hayley posed for him. “I just always wanted to wear a guy's shirt and look sexy for him. Like in the movies.”

  “It worked … come here.”

  Twenty minutes later, when the pizza arrived, they fell on it like savages. Skandar picked up the remote. “Wanna watch some TV while we eat?”

  Hayley nodded, her mouth full of food. Skandar flicked it on and scanned through the channels, settling on the news. They watched as the anchorwoman talked, not really taking anything in. It was only when th
ey heard his name that they looked up.

  “Skandar Mallory, recently exonerated in the murder of German tennis star Annika Hahn, now faces a new crisis as gossip sites have published photographs of the twenty-five-year-old superstar in bed with another woman. The woman, seen here, is believed to be nineteen-year-old UW sophomore, Hayley Applebee. Karl Harlow reports, with images that some viewers may find offensive.”

  Hayley dropped her slice of pizza, nearly choking on the mouthful she was eating.

  “What the actual fuck?” Skandar growled. He turned the TV up. A reporter, standing outside the very home they were in, was talking to the camera.

  “The photographs, which are explicit, show Mallory with a young woman. Both are naked, and as the sequence continues, it is clear they are having sexual relations. This comes just a day after Mallory was cleared of suspicion in the murder of Annika Hahn, his then-girlfriend. Some say the timing is suspicious ...”

  But Hayley stopped listening. The photos—thankfully, her breasts and genitals were blanked out—were obviously taken last night—the most wonderful, erotic, private night of her life. She felt violated, exposed. Shamed.

  Skandar looked horrified. “God, Hayley, I’m so sorry … what the fuck?”

  “How the hell did they get pictures, Skandar? Did you tape us?” She stood and fled to the bedroom, yanking off his shirt, not caring if she ripped it. She tugged her clothes on as he followed her. “Is that what happened? You taped us, and they hacked your hard drive?” She was pulling on her sneakers now as Skandar held out his hands.

  “Sweetheart, no, I would never ...”

  “Then how did they get the fucking pictures?” she screamed, then burst into tears, sobbing, humiliated. “God, what am I going to say to Nan? To my friends? My God, I’m going to have to drop out of college—if they don’t throw me out first.”

  “Hayley, calm down. We’ll get to the bottom of this … you haven’t done anything wrong. I have no idea ...” He looked around the room then started to open closets, drawers. She knew what he was looking for. Cameras. She searched, too, then, desperate for proof that he didn’t know they were being watched. God, she wanted to throw up.

  “Here,” Skandar said in a dead voice. He stood back from the closet and let her see. A tiny recording device with a feed lodged in the door, directly facing the bed. She stared at it.

  “And it’s not part of your security system?”

  “No.”

  “God.” She watched as Skandar ripped it from the wall and stamped on it. “You shouldn’t have done that. There might have been fingerprints, evidence the police could use.”

  She went to sit on the bed and after a second, Skandar came to her. “I swear, I didn’t know. I would never do anything to hurt you like this.”

  She couldn’t speak, couldn’t reassure him. She wanted to believe him but he had been so reckless in the past. She looked at him, studied his face, his dark, hurt eyes and knew that even though she loved him, she didn’t quite trust him.

  “I have to go.”

  Skandar put his arms around her. “No, please, stay and let’s figure this out. I’ll get Zoe to come over and—”

  “This isn’t about public relations, Skandar. It’s about whether I can trust you with my heart.”

  He followed her out to the doorway. “You can … you can trust me.”

  She couldn’t look at him. “We’ll see. I need some time.”

  Skandar nodded. “Okay … okay...” He opened the door for her but then shut it again, his face creasing with emotion.

  “Just, please remember this … I love you.”

  Tears were dropping down Hayley’s face. “I love you, too … but I need some time. I’m not saying forever, but ...”

  Skandar took her face in his hands. “Kiss me before you go...”

  She pressed her lips to his, her resolve nearly faltering but then she pushed him away and fled, banging down the stairs and out onto the street. The paparazzi assailed her immediately, and she kicked and fought her way through them, cursing them out, not caring that it was all being captured on film.

  She ran three blocks before stopping, bending double to sob her anger, her hurt out. She managed to hail a cab and almost fell into it.

  “Where to, Miss?” The cab driver had a kindly face—which made her sob even harder. As he waited, she managed to choke out. “I don’t know … I don’t know ...”

  Part Four: Tame Me

  It wasn't the first time Joel Mallory had punched his twin brother across a room, but it was certainly the hardest.

  To be fair, Kit Mallory deserved it, stalking into his father’s house with an entourage the size of a small army and yelling at his nephew in front of everyone. “What the fuck are you doing with this tramp, Skandar? Are you trying to ruin the whole family? What next?”

  It had been a race to see who could punch Kit first, but Joel beat his son out by a hair. Randall grabbed hold of Skandar while Jakob hauled Joel off his brother. Ran nodded at Kit’s entourage. “Please wait in the library, folks; we'll get you some refreshments. Thank you.”

  As Jakob hauled Kit to his feet and blocked him from going at Joel, Ran released his grandson, giving him a meaningful look. “The rest of you, sit down.”

  Skandar, struggling to simmer down after hearing Kit insult Hayley, slumped back in a chair. “Don't you ever call her a tramp again, you fucker,” he hissed as Ran put a cautioning hand on his shoulder.

  Kit was unrepentant. “You can forget about Diane Sawyer now; I can't have you crapping all over my career as well as your own.”

  “Kit, shut the fuck up,” Jakob had heard enough. “Skan’s done nothing wrong—we have to figure out who put the cameras in his condo, and why.”

  Kit rocked back a little. “Wait … I thought this was a sex tape you released.”

  “No,” Skandar’s voice was like ice, “unlike you, I actually have respect for the women in my life.”

  Kit gave a hollow laugh. “I’m sure Annika ...”

  “Do not finish that sentence; do not finish that sentence, cocksucker,” Skandar was up again. This time, it was Jakob who body-blocked him.

  “Enough!' Randall Mallory roared, and his three sons and one grandson looked at him in amazement. Jakob tried to remember when his father had raised his voice in his lifetime. He couldn’t remember such an occasion. His father, looking drawn and exhausted, sat down and motioned for his family to follow suit.

  “I am tired,' he said, “The last few months have been difficult enough without us imploding, too. Kit, you will never again refer to Hayley with anything but respect, do you understand?”

  Kit rubbed his face. “Of course, … look. Skandar, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. It was wrong of me.” His swagger had disappeared now and he was genuinely contrite.

  Skandar nodded stiffly.

  “Good, now, let's see if we can't come up with something to control this idiocy, this disgusting violation. First, we need to make sure that Hayley is protected … Skandar?” Ran looked at his grandson and noticed a shadow pass over his face. “Where is Hayley now?”

  Skandar sighed. “At home, holed up, I think. I’ve tried to call her a couple of times but … she’s distraught, Pops. What we did … it wasn’t a one- night stand, or anything tawdry. I love her. I hope to God she still loves me.”

  Joel looked at his son and gave him a proud nod, a half smile. “Nan told me this morning that Hayley’s regrouping. I'm going over there later; I'll see if she wants to talk.”

  Skandar dropped his head into his hands, and Joel put his arm around him. Kit sat forward.

  “So, what can we do? What with this, the murder, Quilla’s stabbing, this family has been through the mill. It’s already impacted on my work—not that I don’t realize how much worse it’s been for you all,” he added, hurriedly.

  “Look … we call it what it was—a disgusting invasion of two people’s privacy, call the person who did it scum, say we’ll spend every penny,
do everything to bring that person to justice.” Ran let out a tense sigh. “I could do with a drink.”

  “Good thing I brought you some single malt back from Scotland then,” said a familiar voice.

  They all turned around in surprise. Grady Mallory, his grin wide, raised his hand. “Hey, folks. What did I miss?”

  Kit Mallory went back to his hotel. Unlike his brothers, he didn’t own a home in Seattle, preferring to be in L.A. It was more convenient for parties and attending red carpet events, he told them, but over the years he'd begun to feel the disconnect, and it had made him resentful, even if it was his own doing.

  He gave Cherry, his PA, the night off and ordered room service. He sat down and flicked on the TV, not really watching it.

  He shouldn’t have insulted Skandar’s girl—that was wrong. He’d just come from a meeting with his people and found out he was being dropped from the Oscar presenting roster—humiliating when he’d already announced it. To do damage control, he had to agree to appear in a British singer’s music video—filming at the same time as the Oscars. It gave him a good reason to miss the Oscars without losing face.

  Trouble was the singer herself. Bo Kennedy. They'd clashed once before over Twitter over a throwaway remark he'd made about … God, he couldn't even remember now. Bo, a no-nonsense Londoner with strong feminist credentials, had ripped into him … eviscerated him, and done it with a great deal of humor. He had a grudging respect for her. She wasn’t like all the cookie cutter Barbie dolls clogging up the music; Bo Kennedy had the soul of Billie Holiday inside her and the voice to match. Everyone loved Bo. She’d bucked the trend of stick-thin singers by remaining curvy—by Hollywood’s standards she was on her way to being obese, but in real world terms, her curves were the stuff of Marilyn Monroe and Jayne Mansfield and many a man’s fantasies.

  Her people had reached out to him to be in her video … the pitch being he would play the handsome rogue boyfriend she was about to leave in a very public, very embarrassing fashion. He'd said no, at first—actually; it was more like “Fuck, no, with that ballbreaker?” - But when he thought about it, there was something that made him laugh about the offer. It was as if she was challenging him to prove he was the douchebag she thought he was. So when the whole Skandar/Murder Suspect/Sex Tape debacle had forced his hand …