“Hi,” I breathe out. “Your jeans. Getting wet.” My brain can’t keep up, pushing out thoughts for sensation as the water plays over us. My arms slide against his back, and nipples brush against his warm skin.
He places his hand between my legs, as he gently strokes me. “Not to sound like a cliché, but...” He pulls away a finger and slides it slowly into his mouth. “Wet.”
And I’m gone. Lost to him again. My fingers find the button on his jeans and I flick it open. Eyes fixed on his, I unzip and his erection springs free into my hand. He holds my head, fingers digging into my hair and his grip tightens as I stroke him.
“I guess I don’t need to ask if it’s okay to join you in the shower,” he says, eyes half-closed.
“You could’ve asked first.”
“I could.” He pushes a hand against my sensitive sex, thumb on my clit. “But I didn’t. Is that a problem? It doesn’t feel like it was a problem.”
I release him and grip his back instead. It’s a good thing he has me pressed against the wall, my legs around him because they would’ve given way by now.
“Not a problem.”
Tate positions himself between us, and water runs over my face as I tip my head upwards, legs shaking against him.
“Were you thinking about me in the shower? Or do I turn you on as quickly as you do me?” he growls. “Because you’re fucking hot and ready.” I arch towards him as he slides downwards, pausing as he looks me in the eyes.
Roughly, he turns me around, and I catch my footing before pressing my hands against the wall. His breath comes hot and heavy as he kisses along my back, fingers moving around to work me as he does. With his other, he circles both my wrists and holds my arms above my head, against the tiles.
He doesn’t speak, nipping and sucking at my skin along my neck and shoulders. I can’t move, held in place by the need for him to not stop touching.
I push back against him, dipping my head forward. “Don’t make me ask you again,” I mumble.
“You’ve been very demanding since yesterday afternoon, Mrs Daniels.”
I shiver as I feel the tip of him against me. “And you never say no.”
“Why would I when I won?”
He silences my protest with exactly the reason I should’ve let him win months ago.
27
“Your culinary skills surprise me,” I tell Tate as he places a bowl filled with pasta between us at the table. “I thought you’d live on takeaways and set catering.”
He shakes his head and forks some into his mouth. “I look after myself. Can’t you tell?” He cocks a brow. “My body is a commodity after all.”
I frown. “Isn’t that weird? People talking about your body ahead of your acting?”
“I like to think I’m more than that. This is the first step for me.” He bites down on and points at me with his fork. “I want to direct shows and movies myself. Not act forever.”
“Really?”
“Why so surprised?”
“I’m not. I just thought you enjoyed the spotlight attention.”
“Sometimes. But I want more.”
I laugh. “Isn’t being hot Hollywood property enough for you?”
“Some people will never take me seriously.”
His face darkens, and I tip my head. “Like who? What does it matter as long as you’re happy?”
“I know, right?” His clouded face switches back to the Tate smile.
We’ve spent the day relaxed, kicking back and watching movies on cable, or falling into bed. I’m exhausted but glowing, surprised by Tate’s candidness both emotionally and physically. After his words in the hotel, I suspect he’s avoiding alluding to what he’s making up for, but he wants a lot of sex. And good sex.
No. Awesome, intoxicating, and addictive sex.
I loved Miles and felt a closeness I’d not had before, but sex with him never reached the heights it does with Tate.
The one large elephant in the room remains.
“We’re still going through with the annulment, right?” I ask.
He chews as he studies my face, and his hesitation spikes my anxiety. He swallows. “If that’s what you want.”
“Yes and before our relationship is discovered.”
“I expect people will find out we’re a couple once I can’t keep my hands of you in public.”
“You want that?”
“To grope your ass all the time? Yeah.” He gives me that smile.
“No, I mean to be public.”
“In my experience, unavoidable.” He rubs his nose. “But if you want to try to keep things quiet...”
“I’ve never had a relationship with a guy under a spotlight.”
“Relationship, huh?”
“Oh, come on, Tate. We’ll be scrutinised. That’s a lot of pressure. I’m not bothered about the press or what they do or say, but while things are new...” Am I being presumptuous? Is that why his reaction? “Crap. Or is this weekend a one-time thing? Because that might make things awkward between us.”
Tate stands and leans across the table, tipping my chin and capturing my mouth with his. “No. It isn’t. I’ve waited for more than screwing you. That was always your problem. You never thought I was capable of more.” He sits. “Or were you serious when you said you only wanted me for my body?”
The elephant’s pushed further into the corner as banter starts over my new role as Tate Daniels’s girl.
* * *
We stand on his balcony, drinking wine and looking across to the Hollywood hills in the distance, and Tate wraps an arm around my waist.
“Can I ask you an odd question?” he asks.
“Okay.”
“When I left RADA, there was this guy I saw you with a few times. You dated him, I think?”
“Saul? He was my friend, nothing more”
“No. Not him. Seth Jensen.”
“Ah. Him.” How strange he remembers Seth’s name. “I did.”
“Nice guy?” he asks and sips his wine.
“I guess...”
“How long for, after I left?”
I turn and rest against the glass balcony edge. “Why? Are you jealous?” I laugh but Tate frowns.
“Of course I’m jealous you wanted another guy and not me back then.”
“I’ve been engaged since! It’s not as if he was the love of my life. He was just the guy I...”
“The guy you... what?”
I place the glass on the table and wrap my arms around Tate’s waist. “He was different to you. He cared about me.”
Tate stiffens. “I cared about you.”
“I was different then, Tate. Younger. Small-town girl with little idea about men.” Why this conversation? Intensity already?
“Apart from the rock stars.”
I push him in the chest. “I told you that was friendship. Tate, you were this larger than life guy who scared me.”
“Scared you? What? How?”
“You’re not good at picking up on subtleties are you?” I look up at him. “You weren’t the kind of guy I wanted to lose my virginity too.” I cringe at the words, at the memory of the young Myf scared by the thoughts and emotions I had around someone who could never give me what I needed.
“Oh.” Tate’s silence intensifies my embarrassment. “I never realised. I mean, not many girls were.”
“Not the ones eager to try the Tate Daniels goods.” I smile, but he doesn’t return it. “Why be jealous about Seth? Are you jealous of Miles too? Shouldn’t I be the one pissed off about the number of girls you’ve had in your bed?”
“What happened? Between you and Seth. Why did you spilt?”
“Natural ending. He didn’t break my heart. He was a nice guy.” I pause. “Why are you talking about this?”
Tate shrugs. “Not sure. Maybe being with you now reminds me you loved somebody else when I was falling for you back then. I wanted you so bad, and you were into this guy who was half the man I was.”
�
�Listen to you! Tate and his ego.”
“You know you didn’t feel what we had with him, did you?”
“At the time, maybe not. But you left and things became simpler.”
Tate’s serious face turns into a grin. “Well, I got more than him. More than Miles. More than anybody, didn’t I?”
“What’s that?”
Tate leans forwards and rests his forehead on mine. “You married me.”
I sigh and roll my eyes. “Okay, you won.”
“I’m new to this whole relationship thing. Did I do things the wrong way around?” he asks with mock innocence.
“Getting married first and then trying to get the girl to love you? Possibly.”
“Good practice, because nothing will ever be ordinary about us, will it?”
I rest my head against his chest, and I listen to his heartbeat’s steady thrum. I can’t remember when I last felt this calm and relaxed around somebody. “You’ll definitely never be ordinary. But this is still just a start, Tate,” I say. “I can’t give you everything you want yet.”
He’s silent for a couple of minutes, then speaks in a low voice.
“I’ll take what I can for now and give you more in return. I waited for you to come back around. I never met anybody like you again, and I doubt I ever will.”
“But you’re still going to divorce me, right?” I ask and poke him in the ribs.
He rests his head on mine, and whispers, “Whatever you want to do, Mrs Daniels.”
28
Two freeing days at Tate’s place, then returning to Brit’s character will take some work. Pretending not to like Dev will be as big a challenge as me pretending not to like Tate the last few months. The glow follows me from his house, and we arrive separately, still in disagreement over how much we tell people and when. My opinion is we say something after the divorce to reduce the scrutiny.
I’m in my trailer escaping filming chaos for a lunch break. Roger’s in a foul mood, time and financial pressure mounting as we head towards the last filming days. Somebody raps on the door; three short knocks.
“Almost ready!” I call. The person outside doesn’t respond. “Tate?”
The door opens wide enough for somebody to walk in, and Savannah appears. Our relationship could best be described as “tolerant.” I deny my dislike of her links to her past connection to Tate, and my problem admitting he’s telling the truth.
Her costume fits perfectly, the eye candy of the show in her glove-tight black dress and spiked heels. The first time I watched her stunt double fight a demon in killer shoes, I marvelled she stayed upright.
For once, I’m dressed in something different to my FBI suit.
Today’s the day fans waited for, and I’m dressed for dinner, ready for Brit to greet Dev in my apartment. An evening, which will end in my bed.
“Oh, hi, Savannah.” I place down my phone and stand. “Am I late?”
Savannah holds out a coffee and a concerned pout. “I need to talk to you.”
“Sure.” I sip the lukewarm coffee.
This woman is as much a professional as me and plays her off-screen role as well as her on-screen. The mask rarely slips any more than her hair falls out of place. Spending as much time on constructing Savannah as on her character must be exhausting. Over the weeks, I’ve ducked under any snide comments thrown my way, and avoided the passive-aggressive responses to anybody she clashes with.
We learned to avoid each other as much as we could. So why the coffee?
“Everything okay?” I ask.
Savannah holds her coffee, french-manicured nails tapping the side. “I heard rumours you and Tate have the co-star lovers thing happening.”
“Really?” I feign surprise, eyes fixed on hers.
“Yes. You were seen cosying up on location, and then shots of you at the airport. I can tell something’s happening. I’ve seen and done this myself.” She fixes me with a look reminding me he’s had his hands and mouth on her too.
“We just buried the hatchet, that’s all.”
“Is that what you call it in Wales?” She giggles and places the cup on the counter, next to my open bag. “You must know who you’re dealing with. Be careful.”
“I know Tate, and he knows that he won’t get away with screwing me around.”
“So you have hooked up with him?” Her pink lips curve into a sly smile. “He’s good, isn’t he? I bet you’re disappointed you held out for so long.”
I clench my jaw. “We have a past. It’s more complicated than that.”
“Oh, so that’s why.” Savannah’s smile grows, like a cat about to pounce on its prey. “I did wonder.”
“Wonder what?”
“Don’t tell me...” She taps her chin, musing like a professor. “He did something to you in the past and needed to make amends. Was it something really bad? Because he helped you out big time.”
“No, we just knew each other at RADA. And what exactly do you mean?”
“That he arranged this to keep you quiet about something, right?” She pauses. “He did! Your face...”
“What did he arrange?” I ask in a low voice, but she doesn’t need to say anymore.
“Brit. You’re here because Tate pushed the show runners to select you for the role. Half the cast and crew know, and we’re laying bets on what you have over Tate.”
I swallow down the bitter taste in my mouth. People’s faces, people whispering behind my back. “What?”
“I think you have some dirt about his past he’s paying you to keep quiet about. Smart move, using something like that to skip a few rungs on the ladder.”
“I have not, and I’m not!” I snap back. “I was chosen for this part because I’m good!”
“Good at what though?” Her snide nature slips through the illusion she’s speaking to me as a concerned friend.
“At my role,” I reply in a cold tone. “Besides, Tate wouldn’t be the one to choose who played opposite him.”
“Maybe not, but when somebody with his standing wants to choose his leading lady, do you think they say no?”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Ask him yourself. Interesting though...”
“What is?”
“That you apparently don’t know. I thought maybe a sex tape, but you don’t seem that type. Or a secret baby?” Behind her eyes, I can practically see the cogs whirring. “Oh... I know. When I thought I was pregnant back in the summer, he wanted me to end the pregnancy. Not good for his image. He’s very self-centred, but you’ve probably noticed that. Am I close?”
I want to shake Savannah to make her stop—and shake her words from my ears so I’d never remember them. How could he be that heartless? Ruthless? I’m blinkered by the situation, by his charming me into doing what I want and right into his bed. If a baby’s disposable, I’m sure as hell I will be too.
“But he’s weird since you were around, like, right from the start. Secret affair, huh?”
“No. We aren’t... weren’t.” And won’t be anymore.
“Well he ended things with me pretty damned sharpish.”
Her words are an ice pick between my eyes. “He was with you in July?”
“Kinda. We weren’t exclusive, I guess, because Tate never is, but we’ve been on and off for a year or so. Then you appear and... bam. We’re into the off again phase.”
“So why didn’t he get you the role?” I ask.
Savannah’s mouth turns into a thin line. “I asked him the same question. He’d all but promised me he would. Tate told me they preferred you, but it didn’t take long for me to find out why. You’re clever, Myf.”
“No. This is wrong. I didn’t know.” Her hard eyes emphasise her deliberate decision to stir things up, but should I be glad she has? “Were you still together when filming started?”
Her mouth twitches. “I could say yes, but no. He told me to stay away from him first day on set, when you saw me leave his trailer. We hadn’t... been together since the mont
h before. He took a trip to Vegas, and I knew he’d hook up with someone else.” She flourishes a hand at me. “So, yeah, I’d be careful about that. I’ve seen him with starry-eyed extras in his car recently. One in particular a few weeks ago. You might remember her, the girl with the blonde hair who used every excuse she could to get close to him on set?”
Her words prickle along my spine. “I know his reputation,” I say in a low voice. “Thank you for your concern.”
She barks a short laugh. “I’m not concerned, sweetheart, I’m amused. You’ve had him following you around like a puppy dog.”
“I have not.”
“Can’t figure it out myself, you’re not his usual type.”
“And he’s not mine.” Savannah opens her mouth to say something. Then closes it again and shakes her head. “Go on, Savannah. Spit it out. You’re dying to say something else.”
“Is it true you were dumped on your wedding day by your gay fiancé?”
Too far. Too bloody far. “Who told you that?”
“Not sure. A rumour going around. Some people are even saying it was Tate your fiancé was caught with, and that’s the reason for him helping you, but that doesn’t seem likely.”
“My personal life isn’t anybody’s business.”
“It is if Tate Daniels is your personal life.”
“He isn’t,” I growl. Because he bloody isn’t anymore.
“Uh huh. Well, if you’re screwing him to keep the part, I’d be careful. If Tate has enough of you, he’ll have you replaced with a new Brit. He’s done that before in a show too. Carly Francis? She was written out on Norsemen, coincidentally when they spilt.”
She lifts up a hand and counts on her long fingers. “Five days of filming left. I’d pull some impressive moves if you haven’t something to hold over him.”
Ever Savannah, she walks away leaving dramatic words and a speechless victim behind. My hands shake as I finish the coffee. I asked Tate and he told me he didn’t use his influence to get me the part. More than once. He always manipulated people by charm and lies, and I had this all wrong. It wasn’t me who had control here, it was him all along. His final card he holds, my career, ready to play should I step out of line.
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