by Livia Grant
"I'm glad to see you like thong panties. They will serve you well to help keep the plug nestled in your ass. I'm guessing it would be a bit embarrassing for you if you lost your hold on your little hitchhiker and it fell to the floor in the middle of a scene."
"Oh, God..." She was too overwhelmed with physical and emotional feelings to fend off the confusing intimacy she felt towards the man who was helping her stand upright as he gently smoothed down the skirt of her dress before pulling her into his arms for a bear hug. In addition to the obscene fullness, she also felt the naughty jewelry dangling down, rubbing against her inner thighs.
It was suddenly harder to hold back her tears as he cradled her close, stroking her hair softly while he whispered, "Shhh... it's over now."
This man confused her like none other. So stern. Strict. Dominant. Yet now gentle and even comforting.
Trevor's pounding had stopped at some point. When her tears waned, Ryder pulled a hankie from his pocket and spent a minute dabbing at the wetness. The smoke rising from his eyes told her he was as turned on as she was, but they didn't have time to do anything about it at the present moment.
"Ready to go back?"
She nodded, looking down, too shy to hold his eye contact. She took a few tentative steps away from him towards the door to the trailer. He was beside her when he opened the door, letting the bright sunlight flood the space, temporarily blinding her. Ryder grabbed her above her elbow again to help her navigate the steep steps.
Only when her heels hit the parking lot pavement did she glance around to see a small crowd had gathered near her trailer. If looks could kill, Trevor's glare directed at Ryder would have dropped him dead.
Khloe kept her eyes down, trying to avoid looking anyone in the eye for fear they would know what had happened. It was humiliating enough to be spanked as a grown woman, but she prayed no one else knew what had happened behind the closed door.
Her hopes were dashed when Ryder pulled them to a stop next to Randy. Only then did Khloe see he'd picked up the heavy wooden paddle brush before they'd left the trailer. His hand held the implement out, but Randy was almost afraid to touch it.
"Thanks for the use of your hairbrush. It came in handy."
The jerk had the audacity to crack into a wide grin, enjoying the uncomfortable awkwardness that had fallen on the small crowd as they put the clues together to know that the actress they all knew had just had her butt roasted by the man who'd now placed his arm around her waist, pulling her closer as they resumed their walk towards the studio.
Before they got too far away, he shouted back to her hairdresser. "I'll try to pick up one for my duffle so I won't have to borrow yours next time."
Khloe groaned, wishing the pavement would open up and swallow her whole. She was so embarrassed. Having Ryder there to protect her was proving to come with an unexpected price tag.
Her dignity.
Chapter 16
He was about ten minutes away from pulling the plug, literally. Khloe looked exhausted. They'd been at filming for almost five hours straight with the asshole of a director who was clearly on a power trip, demanding take after take from the cast and crew. He knew she'd be furious with him for interfering, particularly after it had taken more than a few minutes for the whispers and pointing to die down after he'd returned her after her butt blistering. News traveled fast in the petrie dish of a closed set and while he was perfectly comfortable with every single person knowing the kind of relationship he and Khloe had, he was conscious of the fact that he was in her world right now.
Her world or not, he wasn't going to stand by and watch her dehydrate or work to exhaustion. And he sure as hell wasn't going to let her starve herself to death either. She needed a break.
For the twentieth time, Ryder let his vision scan the crowded area of onlookers watching the courtroom battle in progress. They'd gotten to the crux of the story and he wasn't too crazy about watching Khloe breaking down into tears over and over with each take.
Yet her tears while I lit up her ass were beautiful.
He didn't bother to examine how fucked up that was.
When Apollo yelled out, "again,” Ryder moved into motion, pushing his way through the small circle of crewmembers and stalking out into the middle of the regal courtroom set.
He beelined it straight to Khloe sitting in the witness chair where her makeup artist was touching up her red and swollen eyes. "I think Khloe's had enough for now," he demanded, stepping into the box and taking her by the arm.
The fact that she didn't object told him he'd made the right call. She moved slowly, walking a bit stilted. He was an asshole to smile, knowing the secret no one else did, which was that she'd been filming for hours with her cute back passage stretched with his butt plug. Their eyes met briefly as she looked up at him, silently pleading with him to remove the uncomfortable accessory.
Ryder had a better idea.
He escorted her backstage, away from the cursing director who didn't care for his star performer being taken away from him. He didn't stop until they arrived at a food and drink cart setup in an out-of-the-way corner where a grinning young man with a lopsided smile looked like he might pee his pants as they approached.
"Khloe! I brought you an éclair. Mary wanted to eat it, but I wouldn't let her. I told her it was yours."
The young man's speech was slurred, his movements jerky. Ryder was a bit surprised the studio would hire disabled staff, but then again he was serving coffee and donuts so how hard could it be.
"Hi, Peter. You know I don't normally eat..."
Ryder cut her off, taking charge. "We need a sparkling water for Miss Monroe and then I'd like you to warm up that ham and cheese sandwich. Do you have any carrots or maybe an apple instead of all of these sweets?"
An out-of-place anger filled the kid named Peter's face at Ryder's curt demand. His sixth sense kicked into gear telling him he needed to do a bit of research on this one.
"I'm not hungry, Ryder. I only want to drink and... I need to go to the..." She was adorable when she blushed. "You need to take the damn thing out..."
Instead of answering, he reached to take the small bag of baby carrots and the apple from the out-of-place worker, examining them before opening the bag and taking one carrot out.
"Open up, baby."
Anger flashed in her eyes. "You're nuts. I'm too tired to eat."
He leaned closer, talking softly into her ear. "I'm not big on excuses. It's late. You've barely eaten and you're clearly exhausted." He pressed the carrot to her lips as they stood in a silent standoff. When she delayed, he added a stern, "Open."
He watched her pupils register surprise just before her lips parted, allowing him to slide the healthy snack into her mouth, adding a "Chew" for good measure. Only after she'd swallowed did he add a pleased, "Good girl."
Pleasure replaced defiance in her eyes, as he repeated the routine with a half dozen more carrots before reaching for the now ready sandwich. He led her to an empty chair lined up along an out-of-the-way wall, taking a seat and pulling her into his lap.
Her humph as she sat coincided with the end of the plug jamming into his thigh, shoving deeper into her stretched channel.
Her protests were back, "I don't want..."
He shoved a bite into her mouth as she spoke, telling her with actions that he didn't care what she wanted. He knew what she needed.
It was a testament to how tired she was that she didn't fight him harder as he fed her half the sandwich, a bottle of water and the rest of the carrots. The fact that he suspected it was the biggest meal she'd had in days pissed him off.
Her eyes were drooping by the time he set aside the rest of the food. He pulled her into an intimate embrace, rocking slightly in a calming way as she snuggled her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes with a sigh.
"You're safe. I've got you," he whispered.
His next scan of the room found a pensive Trevor stationed about a dozen feet away, arms crossed and a gl
are on his face. The men's gazes connected and for the first time since they'd met, Ryder saw approval staring back. With a small nod, Khloe's guard retraced his steps, giving them some privacy.
He held her like that for fifteen minutes while the rest of the cast and crew enjoyed the impromptu break. Only when the director's patience was at an end did Ryder reluctantly wake the beauty in his arms.
"Princess, time to wake up."
She startled awake. "I can't believe I fell asleep. What time is it?"
"Time to get back to work."
"Can I..." she paused and finished quietly, "go to the bathroom?"
"Of course. I'll take you."
"That won't be necessary..."
"Yes, baby, it is. I'll need to get you put back together again."
"But..."
He put his finger to her lips, shushing her. Once on her feet, he led her to the ladies' room, not bothering to knock. Two older women who were extras in the film quickly rushed out, leaving them with a bit of privacy. He threw the deadbolt on the door to ensure it stayed that way.
Khloe's eyes were wide when he turned back towards her. He suspected she had planned on some privacy.
"Turn around, baby. Hands on the counter."
"You aren't gonna spank me again, are you? I mean I didn't do anything wrong this time."
"As much as I'd love to, naw. I'll help you with your hitchhiker."
Their eyes were locked in the full mirror in front of them as he lifted her skirt and pushed aside her panties to grab onto the end of the plug. "Exhale for me and push it out."
The plug was larger than he'd have liked, but she'd taken it like a champ. It took a sharp pull to get the widest flare past her stretched pucker. He looked down, loving how she gaped open for several long seconds once she was free of the hard intruder.
With a smack to her ass, Ryder let her up. "Go take care of business. I'll get it ready to go back in."
"Please, not again. I've learned my lesson. I promise." Her submissive pleas did nasty things to his rod tucked into his slacks. He pushed down the temptation to shove the growing hardness where the toy had just been, knowing they didn't have time.
Instead, he pulled the small bracelet from the end, and reached out to attach it to the tiny waistband of her panties. He liked the way it dangled down at crotch level.
He saw the question in her eyes and answered. "It's got a tracker in the charm. Until we get the asshole behind bars, I don't want you going anywhere without it on. I'll conceal it in something better when we get home. Now, hurry up. I'll wash this bad boy and then wait for you outside."
True to his word, he finished cleaning up and took off for the exit. When he pushed the door open, it slammed into the back of Trevor who had taken up a protective stance in front of the portal. It pissed him off that the asshole was probably there thinking he had to protect Khloe from Ryder.
The men stood chest to chest in a standoff of sorts. Ryder wished he were taller, hating that the jerk had a few inches on him. As the guard eyed him up and down, his gaze stopped on the wide plug still in Ryder's right hand. He suspected Khloe would be pissed at him for holding it out so McLean could get a better look at it, but he did it anyway.
Several emotions passed over the guard's expression starting with anger and ending with what looked like acceptance.
"I get it. I don't like it, but I get it."
Ryder slipped the sex toy in the pocket of his sports coat before answering. "I'm glad. I'd hate to have to paint you a picture."
"You don't have to be such an asshole, you know. I really do care about her," McLean protested.
"That's exactly why I'm being an asshole." He moved closer until their chests bumped aggressively. "Keep your fucking hands off her and do your job."
"That's all I've ever done." He looked sad for a moment before adding, "Now I see she needed more." Ryder was about to deck the jerk until he added, "You worked a miracle getting her to eat that much. I've been worried."
After an awkward pause, Ryder stepped aside, putting some distance between them to de-escalate that discussion. "Yeah.”
Just as the words left his mouth, he heard it. The unmistakable sound of someone puking. Not someone. Khloe.
Trevor must have heard it too because the men met at the door, each fighting to get through first. Ryder had the edge from his angle and pushed in ahead of the taller man, beelining it to the only closed door, pounding so hard the entire three-stall structure wobbled.
"Goddamn you, Khloe, I'm gonna blister your ass so hard it makes our earlier discussion look like love taps. Get your fucking finger out of your throat and open this door right now."
The sound of her depositing the contents of the food she'd eaten into the toilet stopped, but when he leaned down to look under the door, he could see her still huddled over the porcelain. He detected her body shaking, fighting the urge to purge. When she leaned forward ready to resume against his orders, Ryder kneeled, reaching under the door and grabbing both of her ankles.
He yanked her hard, furious that she couldn't see the damage she was doing to her own body. She struggled and kicked, barely missing slamming her face against the toilet by pushing back in time for her torso to fall to the ground before being dragged under the bottom opening of the still closed stall door.
Her dress rode up as he pulled, exposing the still-red patches on her butt cheeks where the hairbrush had done a number on her. He'd be adding belt marks in a few minutes.
He'd expected her to fight him, but instead she'd started crying, laying limp in a heap on the cold tile floor, curled up into a ball on her side. Her sobs cut through his anger, temporarily stunning him into non-action.
McLean had surprisingly stayed on the sidelines, standing a few feet away looking as lost as Ryder felt. As angry as he was at her, a little voice was shouting at him that this wasn't a submissive's defiance. The woman at his feet was falling apart before his eyes, trembling from fear or cold, he wasn't sure. He ran his hand through his cropped hair with uncertainty until he knew what to do.
Ryder took his coat off and slid to the ground, placing his back against the closed stall door. He reached out and scooped the broken woman in front of him into his lap, wrapping her in his coat and hugging her to him.
"Grab me some wet paper towels," he yelled to a still frozen McLean before talking softer to Khloe. "It's gonna be okay, baby."
He rocked her as she cried into his chest. He suspected she was too ashamed to look at him, which was fine by him. He needed the time to get his anger under control.
Trevor handed him a handful of wet towels, standing close by as if waiting for orders. Ryder held her chin, forcing her to look up at him. Her eyes were bloodshot from crying and the exertion of purging. Her makeup was a running mess and her coifed hair was jumbled.
"Go tell the director Khloe isn't feeling well. She needs to call it a day." She opened her mouth to protest, but he lifted her chin to stop her. "Trust me. You're done, baby."
Trevor stood grounded until Ryder looked up to see why he was still there. Anger emanated from her guard. "You better not lay a hand on her for this."
He wasn't sure what pissed him off more. That the jerk actually thought he would spank her for hurting herself, or that he had actually contemplated it himself first.
"Relax. She's sick, not in trouble."
Only when they were alone did he use the towels to start patting at her splotchy face, wiping away drops of spittle and tears along with snot running from her nose. He wiggled until he could retrieve his hankie from his pocket, holding it up to her Rudolf-red nose and asking her to, "blow for me."
The loud honk of her nose made them both smile, breaking the heavy blanket that had been thrown over them. Fresh tears welled in her eyes as she tried to explain.
"I panicked. I felt so full. It scared me."
He didn't know what to say, so he said nothing.
"You don't know what it's like, being a woman in Hollywood. Always havin
g someone slightly younger, or thinner, or more talented nipping at your heels, trying to take away every part. Every appearance. Every opportunity."
He took his time, formulating his response. When he was ready, he drove his hand through her ruined hair, grasping close to her scalp and yanking her head until he was certain she couldn't look away.
"I want you to listen to me well, little girl. You have one body. One life. What you're doing to it may help you today, but what about tomorrow? And the next day? Trust me when I say, you're on a fucking slippery slope. One day, you'll get so tired from holding on, you'll let go and fall so hard and fast, there won't be any recovery. I see it in your eyes. You're exhausted, pushing yourself so hard, but by refusing to refuel your body, you'll be burned out before you're thirty.
"You're a beautiful, talented woman, Khloe Monroe. I've watched you all day, and you have serious talent. Dirty Business is a box-office smash hit. You're being offered dream roles. You're so close. Don't fuck it up by judging yourself by some antiquated vision of what asshat producers want. You're the real deal. Make them take you on your own terms."
"Why are you being so nice to me?"
She really didn't know?
"Because I think you are amazing. Because as much fun as I have hurting your body, the thought of you hurting yourself infuriates me. I'm not a doctor, but I know enough about this to understand you need help, so I guess I'd like to apply for the job."
"Since when do you ask? You barged in and made yourself the head of my security without asking." She must be feeling better; she was teasing him.
"Guilty. I guess I know I can't just spank you into submission on this one. Not without getting this straightened out first." He tapped her temple with his index finger.
She melted into his arms, trembling as he rocked her. He wasn't sure how much time passed until McLean returned. "Apollo is pissed as hell. I think we should get out of here."