Hard & Fast (Rules to Break #1)

by Ana Gabriel

  “Good morning,” a woman says, glancing at her paper. “You’re Rose Weatherston?”

  I nod eagerly and open my mouth to speak, but she interrupts me.

  “And you’re trying out for the role of Jessie?”

  “Yes. I worked at my parent’s hardware store for almost ten years so I’m very excited to try out for this role.”

  No one responds. Off to a great start.

  “Go ahead and begin on the highlighted section of page 18 whenever you’re ready.”

  I nod and take my spot behind the desk. My hands are cold and clammy and I can barely hear myself think with all the blood rushing in my ears, but I blow out a slow breath and tune everything out—the camera, the people watching me, Cole’s fingers slipping inside my panties—and just focus on the role. Immerse myself in it. Become Jessie.

  When I finish my lines, a buzzy feeling washes over me. I look up. They’re smiling. All four of them are smiling. I nailed it.

  “Great,” the woman says. “We’ll be contacting the short list tonight. If you don’t hear back, you haven’t gotten in.”

  I nod, thank them, and exit the room. When I clear the hallway of hopefuls, I can’t hold it in any longer. I squeal. A business-suit clad man just exiting the elevator raises an eyebrow at me, and I twirl him around in a jig until he’s smiling back.

  This is it—this is the role I’m going to get.

  I pull out my phone to call Kate when I see that the home screen is filled with missed calls and texts from Cole. Just as I’m staring at the screen, it comes to life again. I finally answer it.

  “Yes?”

  “Where have you been? I’ve been calling you for half an hour.”

  “You gave me the morning off,” I remind him.

  “Something came up.”

  “I’m sorry. I was busy.” The doors slide open, and I float out to the parking lot.

  “It was important, Rose.”

  “I said I was sorry. I was busy Cole.

  “Doing what? Why do you sound so chipper?”

  I shrug into the phone and he chooses to interpret my silence.

  “Right. Keeping your private life separate from your work life is very important to you.”

  I freeze in the parking lot. My mouth drops open in shock and I struggle to find words. There’s a pause where neither of us speaks.

  “Sorry,” he mutters.

  I snap my mouth shut. I refuse to let Cole ruin my good mood. “What is it you wanted me to do?”

  “I needed a ride.”

  “What?” I laugh.

  “The Porsche wouldn’t start this morning and I had a GQ shoot at ten.”

  “And you don’t have, like, ten backup cars?” I already knew that he didn’t. And actually, I thought it was great that he didn’t buy a zillion cars just because he could.

  “I have one back up car, and you’re driving it,” he says.

  “Oh,” I answer sheepishly, then remind myself that he did give me the morning off. “Well did you call a cab?”

  It’s his turn to laugh. “No, I called a car service. By myself.”

  Wow! I think. But what I say is, “Well I’m available now. What can I do to help?”

  “If you’re not too busy,” he says, drawing out the word, “can you get my car down to the dealer. We’re also low on groceries, and someone’s coming to fix the stereo system at three and I’d like someone to be there to supervise them. Get them to sign NDA’s before they come inside.”

  I hold the phone against my ear with my shoulder and jot everything Cole says into Val’s notebook. “I’ll get right on it.”

  Despite my annoyance with Cole, my mind can’t help tripping back to the audition and I spend the whole morning smiling like a lunatic. When I finally finish with the groceries and pull into the driveway with ten minutes to spare before the workers arrive, Cole pulls up—in a rental car—behind me.

  “Didn’t trust me?” I ask as I step outside.

  He slides his sunglasses into the neck of his shirt. I wish he’d have kept them on. It’s hard looking him in the face after I broke all of my own rules last night—not once, but twice. Never mind the limo driver. If I never see him again it’ll be too soon.

  “I finished on time,” he answers, but his smile tells me that I wasn’t far from the mark.

  He rushes over to help me unload grocery bags from the trunk. It’s such a couple-like thing to do that I don’t know how to act. But then Cole is hauling the bags inside like it’s no big deal and I feel silly for even wondering if last night changed where we stand. It was a handjob and a quick fuck in a club restroom. Nothing to take home to mom.

  “What’s wrong with you all of a sudden?” he asks as I join him in the kitchen.

  “Nothing.”

  He doesn’t believe me, but I pretend to be very concentrated on finding where everything goes in his kitchen until the workers arrive.

  By the time they’re done, it’s four o’clock. Checking my phone becomes a full-time job. Four o’clock turns into five, which turns into six. I try to not let it bother me that it’s after business hours now. Hollywood doesn’t operate that way. And plus—they smiled.

  There are a million things I could and should be doing, including picking up my stuff from my old apartment, but I’m too worried I’ll miss a call, so I just pad aimlessly around the house.

  Cole’s poring over some paperwork at the island when I enter the kitchen and open the fridge.

  “Something wrong?” he asks.

  “What makes you say that?” I answer without looking at him. I’m sure my face gives me away.

  “You’re wearing a tread on the floor,” he says.

  My cheeks heat up, but I don’t answer. What can I say?

  I decide I’m too anxious to eat and close the fridge.

  “Waiting for a call?” he says.

  I hadn’t even realized it, but I’d checked my phone again.

  It’s painful, but I pocket the phone. “Just . . . waiting to hear back from a friend,” I say, feigning nonchalance.

  I find my way back up to my room and try to work on my screenplay, but I can’t concentrate. Doesn’t help that Cole’s banging around downstairs in the kitchen. I almost go down there to ask what the hell he’s doing, but I don’t want him to be around when I get the call, and plus, if he sees me he might think up some request that’ll keep me from my phone.

  I walk to the window. The sun sinks into the horizon, lighting downtown L.A. in a hazy purple glow.

  Maybe I gave them the wrong number, I think. Maybe I don’t have good reception in the house. I slip outside to the patio, mindful of avoiding Cole in the kitchen, and pace around the pool. The purple sky fades to black.

  But by the time nine p.m. hits, I have to face the facts. I didn’t get the role.

  My eyes burn with the threat of tears.

  I’m stuck in this job with a sexy asshole boss who makes me act like a slut without a brain, and no hope of ever becoming anything in my own right. A life of standing in the shadow of someone else’s star.

  I throw the phone on the pool deck. It shatters. The patio door slides open.

  “Rose?”

  I suck in a deep breath and clear my throat without turning around. “Yes?”

  “Are you okay?”

  I nod. “Yes, fine. Just . . . needed some fresh air.”

  “Are you crying?”

  “No, I’m not crying,” I spit. “Why would I be crying?” Cole doesn’t say anything. I hear him step closer. No doubt he sees the shattered phone on the ground.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” he finally asks.

  “There’s nothing to talk about,” I say.

  The distant sound of traffic fills up the silence.

  “Are you hungry?” he finally asks.

  I shake my head.

  He sighs. “Are you going to keep being mad at me all night?”

  “Who said I’m mad at you?”

  “You’re
not?”

  “No! This isn’t even remotely about you.”

  “And nothing is wrong, either,” he says, taking a step closer.

  “Correct.”

  “Then it wouldn’t be a problem,” he says, still walking closer, a dangerous

  glint in his eyes, “if I tossed you in the pool.”

  My eyes shoot up in alarm, and I scrabble back, but it’s too late. He tosses

  me over his shoulder. I scream as I hurtle through the air, then hold my breath for the impact. I splash into the water, cold slicing up my spine. I thrash my way to the surface and gasp for air, my wet hair knotted in front of my face. Cole is laughing on the pool deck.

  “You asshole,” I grit out.

  He laughs harder.

  Fury spikes in my system. I climb out of the pool, my wet clothes sucking against my body, and march over to him. He backs up with his hands out in defence, though he can’t stifle his laughter.

  “My phone’s in my pocket!” he says.

  “Then you better take it out.” I reach for his arm, but he leaps back, fumbling to get his phone out of his pocket. While he’s distracted, I tackle him. His body is rigid with muscle and he’s harder to knock over than I thought; the impact makes me stumble to my knees. But Cole pinwheels his arms as he leans violently toward the pool. I push him in the lower back, and he finally splashes in.

  “Yes!” I pump my arm in the air, but when Cole comes up for air, he looks so mad that I instantly sober up. He swim-marches toward me and I stiffen.

  Then he splashes me.

  It’s so not what I was expecting that a laugh bubbles out of me. He grabs my ankles and drags me toward the pool’s edge.

  I laugh, trying to kick away, but he shoulders my weight easily. I yelp as I splash into the pool. But when I come up, I’m laughing again, desperately clutching onto Cole so that I can take him with me if he tries to dunk me again. But he doesn’t dunk me, and I instantly become aware of our closeness. Our laughter dies away, Cole wet and hard against me. We’re both breathing too fast, and there’s a charged moment where he wants to kiss me and I want him to kiss me, and I think I’m going to spontaneously combust from desire if he doesn’t do it. Then he bends his head to mine and our lips meet. My eyes flutter closed in pure bliss. His lips are warm and wet and perfect and I want more, more.

  His tongue finds mine and I feel a rush of liquid heat deep in the pit of my stomach. I didn’t even know how badly I needed this until I felt it. I cover his mouth with a hungry kiss, taking all of my disappointment, all of my anger over the audition out on his mouth. I want him now. Need him now. We’re a few feet from the pool stairs and I push him toward them. He stumbles back and falls onto the top stair. He looks so startled beneath me, sprawled back on the stairs, ankle-deep in water, that a thrill goes through me.

  I tease the edge of my ruined dress up until my red lace panties are exposed. Cole’s eyes get hooded and he makes a rumbling noise at the back of his throat. Heat blooms between my legs as I slide the panties down around my ankles, then gingerly step out of them until they’re floating away on the sparkling water. I climb another step so that my open legs hover near his face and take his hand, pushing his fingers up into my wetness. He makes a low groan and I respond by moving my pelvis against him, fucking his fingers. He brings his head to me and his tongue slides eagerly over my clit, licking, nipping, biting. My legs go weak beneath me, my eyes rolling back in ecstasy. I lean into him, dig my fingers into his thick shoulders, and God, God, it feels so good. Finally, I can’t take it anymore. I drag myself away and sink down into the water before him.

  I’m fascinated by the way his jeans bulge around his erection, at the way it seems to twitch in anticipation. I keep full eye contact with Cole as I undo his belt and unzip his jeans, yanking the heavy wet material down around his thick thighs until his cock bounces free. I take him in my mouth, wrapping my lips around his shaft while looking up at him expectantly. He groans and his stomach clenches beneath his soaked shirt, his cock growing impossibly hard in my mouth. I lick and suck, revelling in every moan, every twitch of the beautiful man beneath me. His breaths are ragged, the hands tangled into my hair vibrating with the effort not to fuck my mouth hard and fast. When I think he’s going to explode from pleasure, I drag my mouth away and position myself on top of him, straddling his hips. I rub my slippery wetness over his dick.

  “I’m on the pill,” I tell him.

  He nods almost desperately, then gasps as I slide over him until his entire length is buried inside me. The blissful sensation of fullness and the feel of his naked cock inside me are almost too much, and I cry out. I move over him in rhythmic strokes, grinding my clit into him with each thrust until I’m delirious with pleasure. He holds my hips firmly in his grip, pulling me to him harder, faster, his hair mussed and his head tipped back to the stars. I’m fleetingly aware of my knees grinding into the cement, but I don’t care about the pain. All I care about is the heavy ache between my legs builds that builds until I completely fall apart. I come around him, trembling and gasping, completely obliterated. Cole’s body seizes up as he fills me with warmth. I collapse on top of him, and we lay half in, half out of the pool in blissful exhaustion, sweat mingling with the beads of water still pricking our damp bodies. Moonlight reflects off the pool, and my mind slips back to the club, to the way Cole made me look in the mirror while he fucked me. Cole likes to watch, I realize. I want him to take me to his bedroom. I want to see what we’d look like in those mirrors.

  “You’re incredible,” he says.

  I’ve never been that good at taking compliments, so I say nothing at all.

  After a while, Cole gets up and finds us towels from the pool house, and we trail back inside, our bare feet slapping on the tile.

  And that’s when I see it. Tea lights flicker between two place settings at the kitchen table.

  “What’s this?” I ask.

  Cole shrugs. “I made us dinner.”

  I sputter for words. A million questions rush through my mind. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I finally ask.

  “I asked if you were hungry.”

  I shake my head. “Cole . . . it’s cold now.”

  He shrugs. “It’s no big deal.”

  I walk over to the table. Some sort of glazed dark meat topped with red sauce and dried cherries lay sliced across the plate, along with a potato dish that looks like something even fancier than my mom would make and roasted vegetables. No big deal.

  “This is incredible.” I sit down and pick up a fork. “What is this?”

  “Pan-seared venison with rosemary and dried cherries. It’s probably terrible.”

  Cole’s always so sure of himself that I can help smiling at his insecurity. He watches tentatively as I take a bite.

  “This . . .” I say around a mouthful of food. He raises his eyebrows. “Is. Incredible.”

  Cole breaks into a grin and finally sits across from me.

  “It’s my mom’s recipe,” he says.

  “I love your mom,” I mutter around another mouthful of food. He chuckles.

  “She’d like you, too, I think.”

  For some reason, this embarrasses me, and I pretend I didn’t hear it.

  Cole Dean made me dinner. Something blooms in my chest. When I look up and meet his eyes, Cole is smiling at me: not his big, public Cole Dean smile, or the devilish grin he uses to seduce me, but an earnest, sincere thing that makes his green sparkle with warmth. A smile just for me. It gets me to thinking that whatever crazy thing it is I’m feeling right now, maybe he feels it too.

  Cole’s phone rings. I notice the name “Kenzie” flash across the screen before he gets up.

  “Sorry, I have to take this.” He slips back through the patio doors.

  I take another bite, and another. Cole’s silhouette paces around the pool deck outside, the phone pressed to his ear.

  I wonder what they’re talking about. My stomach churns. Cole slips into the gym and close
s the door behind him. Long minutes stretch out in silence. I finish my meal and lay down my fork. The tea lights grow dim, Cole’s plate untouched across from me. It’s been over half an hour.

  Pressure builds behind my eyes.

  I’m such an idiot. I can’t believe I even for a second thought that Cole making me dinner meant something. I’m just another lay to him. Cole has hordes of hot women around—why would he ever want to be with me? I should have stuck to my rules. Shouldn’t have humiliated myself like this.

  I dump my plate in the sink, the utensils clashing loudly in the silence, and go upstairs to my room.

  Chapter Six

  Kate’s phone rings out in my ear. Maybe it’s because I smashed my own phone on the side of Cole’s pool not two hours ago and she doesn’t recognize the number. I’m using the phone Val gave me. And even that’s making me angry because the damn thing tethers me to Cole.

  I’m pissed at Cole and I’m pissed at myself for being pissed at him. I’ve backed myself into such a corner taking this stupid job and I feel like a child having to sulk in my bedroom because I don’t even have my own place anymore.

  Fuck him, and fuck everything. I sling the phone on the bed and take a scalding hot shower. As soon as I step out of the bathroom again, the phone rings. It’s Kate and I stare at it, because now she’s calling, I don’t know what to tell her.

  I pull on some old clothes and answer it anyway.

  “What’s with the new number?” she asks, when I tell her it’s me.

  I sigh. “I broke my phone. This is the one Mr. Dean gave me.” Something else I can’t afford to replace.

  “How’d the audition go?” she asks.

  I don’t answer. I wanted that part so badly.

  “Oh. I’m sorry, Rose. Shit, you were perfect for it too. Never mind. It will be a dumb show that we’ll never watch anyway. That’ll teach them to screw Rose Weatherston over. Tell me good things instead. How’s the job going? How’s the hottie boss?”

  Usually Kate can drag my sorry ass into a better mood any day, but now I can’t bear to tell her just how epically I dropped the ball on this one.