Do You Do Extras? (An American in the UK Book 1)

by Nikki Ashton

  Arching my back, my chest heaved as Grantley moved his hand up and dragged his thumb along the side of my boob. His kisses along my neck became more heated as they continued all the way down, over the swell of my breast, to the last closed button of my shirt.

  “I’m so fucking hard right now,” Grantley groaned as his hand twisted in my hair. “You’ve done this to me, Phoebe.”

  As I moved closer to the edge of the table, Grantley pushed forward and I felt exactly how hard he was. He was steel-hard and long, and the idea that I’d made him that way made me more sensitive and needy. The seam of my jeans and the friction his movement was causing, gave me a tiny amount of relief – but it was nowhere near enough. I was throbbing and wet and knew I would never experience a kiss like this, ever again. Even if I spent a lifetime kissing Grantley James, this one would top them all.

  “Grantley, I…Oh God,” I moaned, my legs widening to accommodate more of his body.

  Grantley grabbed my bum in both of his hands and pulling me forwards, slammed me against him and I cried out, consumed with a craving for more. Then his lips were back on mine and he picked me up and carried me away from the table. I flexed my hips, desperate to detonate the pressure inside me, anxious for him to quell the throb between my legs.

  “I need to cum,” I cried, not thinking about either my embarrassment, or how close my mouth was to Grantley’s eardrum.

  “Shit,” he grumbled, sticking a finger into his ear.

  “Oh God, I’m so sorry,” I gasped, my hips still writhing of their own accord, obviously knowing what I needed.

  “It’s fine.” Grantley’s mouth went back to my neck, nipping and kissing along it and his hands went back to caressing me.

  “I hope I didn’t deafen you.” I pulled at Grantley’s hair, pushing my body closer to his to try and gain a little more friction.

  “You didn’t,” Grantley said against my skin. “But thanks for the heads up.”

  “Really?” I asked breathlessly. “Because the slightest of touches would be all I needed.”

  Grantley chuckled and took a nibble of my bottom lip.

  “Pretty girl, what are you doing to me?” he groaned.

  Grantley’s arms wrapped tighter around me as he groaned into my mouth and thrust his hips.

  “Oh shit, I’m sorry.”

  Barney’s deep voice rumbled behind us and just like that my need and desire curled itself up and puff, it was gone.

  “Fucking hell, Barney.” Grantley’s forehead fell to my shoulder. “Shit.”

  I squirmed in his arms, urging him to put me down.

  “I can’t,” he groaned. “I might poke Barney’s fucking eye out with my boner.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh and buried my face in his neck. He smelled so delicious, I nearly asked Barney to ride around the block for a while.

  “Hey guys, I’m real sorry.”

  I couldn’t see him, but I knew he had to be smiling.

  “Can you give us a minute?” Grantley asked, carrying me back over to the table, while I clung to him like a baby monkey.

  “Yeah sure, I’ll go make some coffee or something.”

  I risked a glance over my shoulder to see the back of Barney with his shoulders shaking with laughter.

  “I’m so fucking sorry,” Grantley whispered, closing his eyes and shaking his head. “I wasn’t expecting him back. He stayed out all night last time he went to see her.”

  I took a deep breath and smiled. “It’s okay. I suppose he did a good thing by coming back.”

  “He did?” Grantley asked incredulously. “How the hell do you work that out?”

  “I…we…well we shouldn’t have let it go any further. I’m not a prude or anything, but I’m also not the sort of girl who jumps into bed with someone, just because they’re the best kisser on the planet.”

  “Just this planet?”

  Grantley grinned at me and my stomach did another little flip.

  “Maybe this and Pluto,” I replied, tilting my head as though thinking about it carefully.

  “Shit, Pluto is really small,” Grantley gasped. “In any case, Pluto isn’t classed as a planet any longer, so that doesn’t really count.”

  “It isn’t?” I asked with a smile. “Well, I’m a little stuck now as to which other planet that you may be classed as best kisser on.”

  Grantley looked at me with amusement, brushing some hair from my face.

  “Okay. What about Earth and Jupiter? Jupiter is pretty big you know and I think that kiss was more than worthy of Earth and Jupiter’s votes.”

  I thought about that kiss and grinned. He was probably right.

  Grantley dropped a kiss to the end of my nose and then pulled back to look at me. “You’re right, I shouldn’t have kissed you like that, I’m sorry.”

  “No, don’t be sorry. It was a great kiss.” I cupped Grantley’s face with my hand and sighed. “It was just a little too hot and heavy, especially as we weren’t even on a date.”

  Grantley grinned and slowly pulled away, leaving me sitting on the edge of the table. I watched him, swinging my legs, as he ran a hand through his hair and looked towards the kitchen area and then back to me.

  “I’ll ask Barney to take you home,” he said with a hint of disappointment – which I happened to like.

  “No, I’ll get the train.”

  I looked at my watch. I’d probably missed the ten-thirty, but could definitely catch the eleven o’clock one.

  “No damn way,” Barney’s voice thundered from the kitchen area. “I’ll take you.”

  I turned around to see Barney reappear. He was still grinning and when I glanced at Grantley, I saw him give his friend the middle finger.

  “Barney,” I replied with exasperation. “It’ll be gone midnight before you get back, and that’s if we leave now.”

  “Not a problem.”

  “Why are you back anyway?” Grantley asked, moving towards Barney. “She give you the brush off?”

  “No, she’s going away on business in the morning, so needs to get a good night’s sleep.”

  “Whatever.” Grantley punched at Barney’s stomach as he walked past, but Barney didn’t even flinch. He just flashed a pure white smile.

  “Okay Phoebe, you want to get your stuff together?”

  “Are you sure?” I asked, jumping down from the table. “I really can get the train.”

  “Don’t make me throw you over my shoulder, sweetheart.”

  I gave him a big smile and nodded. “Okay, thank you.”

  I picked up my bag and remembered that my coat was in Grantley’s wardrobe. I turned to ask him for it, but he wasn’t there and I didn’t want to go into his room without asking.

  “Erm, my coat is-.”

  “Here,” Grantley replied, handing my wool coat to me.

  I took it from him and noticed he had a black hoody on.

  “Where are you going?” I asked.

  “I’m coming with you.” He winked at me and stuffed his wallet into the back pocket of his jeans.

  “Ah shit,” Barney groaned. “Please don’t tell me you’re gonna be making out in my back seat.”

  Grantley twinkled a smile at him. “Maybe.”

  Warmth spread through me as Grantley’s fingers linked with mine, and I hoped that Barney took the long way home.

  Grantley

  “You gonna tell me about last night?” Barney asked, as he drove us to the Mill House.

  I wasn’t sure I was going to tell him, because I didn’t know how I felt about what had happened. I liked Phoebe; she was great, she was sexy, she made me laugh, and she was going to be here when I left in four weeks’ time. Yes, I could stay for a while after we wrapped up filming; I had a couple of months break coming up, but what after that? The fact that I was even thinking about it scared the shit out of me. We’d kissed just once, admittedly it had been the hottest kiss I’d had in a long, long time, but here I was wondering how we could do the long distance thing. W
hen I’d moved in with Serena I hadn’t given it this much thought. Because all I’d done, all fucking night, was think about Phoebe and that kiss. I’d jerked off thinking about it, I’d gone for a run on the treadmill in my room at four-thirty in the morning thinking about it and I’d showered, oh and jerked off again, thinking about it.

  “What the hell are all these plastic bears about?” I asked, pointing to the third one I’d seen, on the side of the road.

  “I heard it’s a local tradition thing,” Barney replied. “It’s known as bear town and don’t change the subject.”

  “I wasn’t.”

  I fucking was.

  “She’s a good kid, Grant, don’t do this if you’re not on the same page as her about it.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I turned in my seat to look at the big man.

  From his profile I could see he wasn’t joking around. He always got a fast pulse in his jaw when he was being serious and that fucker was throbbing to a pretty wild dance beat.

  “It means, she doesn’t seem the type to want some sort of fuck buddy. I’m guessing she’s an all in type of girl.”

  “And how do you know that’s not what I want too?”

  Barney glanced at me with one eyebrow cocked.

  “I’m not some fucking man whoring douchebag, you know that about me.”

  “Yes I do,” he replied in his deep, rumbling tone. “But I also know you don’t do commitment. Fuck, you lasted two months living with Serena and you loved her.” His gaze shot back to me again. “Or are you telling me that you’re actually in love with Phoebe?”

  “No,” I spluttered, “of course I’m not.”

  She’d be pretty easy to fall in love with though.

  “I just want you to think about what you’re doing, that’s all. Make sure she knows what you’re wanting before she falls in too deep.”

  “Yes, Dad,” I muttered.

  “I’m fucking ten years older than you, so it’s not physically possible. Doesn’t mean I won’t beat your ass though if you carry on giving me shit.”

  I laughed, but deep down I knew he was right. I did need to have that conversation with Phoebe, but I didn’t want to. What if she wanted everything that I didn’t, we wouldn’t be able to carry on and I hated that idea.

  It was almost eight in the evening by the time we finished filming for the day, and all I wanted to do was shower and sleep. I didn’t even have the energy to eat, but Alexi had insisted we all sit down together for dinner. I didn’t even have Barney for my socially inadequate self to talk to. He’d gone back to Manchester to drive Marcia around and help her with my mother when she finally arrived. Apparently she’d decided to have a stop-over in Paris, so was arriving a couple of days later than originally planned. I’d said no at first, but when Marcia threatened to get back on a plane to LA without waiting for Sue-Ann to arrive if I didn’t loan her Barney, I had to change my mind.

  Stepping out of the shower, I wrapped a towel around my waist and rubbed another through my hair, before wiping the steam off the mirror over the sink. Leaning forward I peered at my reflection. I looked as tired as I felt. There were grey circles under my eyes and my skin was pale. These damn films took it out of me, with the long hours and all the action scenes I had to film – hence why we only shot one every year and a half. I needed that time for my body to repair. I winced as I rotated my arm. I’d fucked up my shoulder when I was filming a scene where I was thrown against a basement floor. Henrik Dietler, playing the main drug lord, had been a little too enthusiastic in that scene.

  With a sigh, I reached for my electric razor, needing to make sure my scruff kept to its usual two-day length. It was surprising how many film critics picked up on shit like that. Turning it on, I started to carefully tidy up, being sure not to go too short. I was pretty much done when I heard my cell ping with a text message. My heart lurched. Only a couple of people had my number, so I just hoped to God it wasn’t Marcia or Barney letting me know my mother had already landed and was causing trouble. Finishing off my shave, I moved into the bedroom and found my cell on the mahogany night stand. It was a number I didn’t recognize, but when I read the text, I couldn’t stop the huge ass grin.

  Unknown: Hey it’s me, Phoebe. Barney let me have your number. Just wanted to say hi and hope it’s going OK.

  I quickly saved her number and started to type out a text then thought better of it and called her instead. As her number rang, I began slowly pacing the room, still smiling. That was what Phoebe did to me – she made me smile.

  “Hello.”

  Phoebe’s voice was a little tentative and I wondered if she thought I was mad at her for texting me.

  “Hey, pretty girl.”

  I was right. She gave what sounded like a relieved sigh on the other end.

  “Was it okay? Barney giving me your number?”

  “God yeah. It was nice getting a text from you,” I replied, as I dropped down onto the edge of the huge, four-poster bed. “In fact it was great after a long, tiring day.”

  “I wasn’t sure whether you’d be finished, which was why I sent a text. I didn’t expect you to call me back. I just wanted to say hi.”

  I caught my reflection in the mirror over the dresser and noticed I had a pansy-ass look on my face. Shit, she really was making me a pussy.

  “Well hi.”

  “Hi.” It was a soft whisper and I really wanted to see her face and kiss her.

  “What’re you doing while we’re here? You working on anything else?”

  “I’m working on Coronation Street tomorrow for two days.”

  I had no idea what that was, but she sounded excited.

  “That’s good right?” I asked with a laugh.

  “Yes,” she cried. “Oh my God, it’s fantastic. You really need to Google it. It’s our equivalent of The Bold & the Beautiful, but without the bold or beautiful people.”

  “Not my thing, but I get the picture, so I’m excited for you.”

  “Hmm… the only problem is, Declan is on it too. We’re playing a couple having a meal in the bistro. Which means I’ve not only got to sit for hours forking cold food around a plate and drinking lukewarm, watered down apple juice out a wine glass, but I have to do it opposite him.”

  My mood suddenly soured at the thought of her sitting with that prick while he stared at her fucking tits.

  “Grantley, did you just growl then?”

  Fuck, I think I might have.

  “Can’t you ask to do something else?” I asked, trying to keep the bitterness from my tone.

  I had no damn right to ask her, we only kissed. We weren’t even dating.

  “It’s a really small cast of extras,” she replied. “There isn’t much else I could ask to do.”

  “Well if he gives you shit, tell me.”

  I wanted to add: ‘and if he looks at your tits tell me, because I’ll punch him in the face’, but thought it best not to.

  Phoebe sighed. “I’ll be fine. He just caught me unawares last time. I’ll be ready for him.”

  “You shouldn’t have to be ready for him, the fucking douche. I should’ve had him thrown off the shoot at the time.”

  “No, you shouldn’t have,” she protested. “It would have made things much worse.”

  I rolled my eyes and decided that was enough talk of Declan, he wasn’t worth the oxygen.

  “What you doing tonight, pretty girl?”

  “Just chilling with Beth and the boys.” There was a smile in her voice as she spoke of her family and it made me smile right along with her. “We’ve been watching The Secret Life of Pets, it’s hilarious.”

  I chuckled. “Yeah, I watched it on the flight over here. You’re right, it’s pretty funny.”

  “You watched it?” she asked incredulously. “Aren’t you a little old?”

  “Hey, I’m a kid at heart. Plus, I’d pretty much seen everything else, even been to the premier of two of those showing.”

  “Ooh listen to you,
Mr. Showbiz.”

  “I try,” I replied with a laugh. “Well, say hi to all of them for me.”

  A warm feeling spread through me as pictures of Phoebe, Beth, and the boys sitting around watching movies flitted through my mind.

  “I will. Anyway, I’d better let you go.”

  I reached for my watch on the night stand and looked at the time – I was going to be late for dinner, but I couldn’t give a fuck. I much preferred the idea of talking to Phoebe a little longer, for a couple more hours, if I could.

  “It’s fine,” I replied. “You’ll be back on set on Thursday, right?”

  “Oh yes, this is just a couple of days’ work.”

  “That’s good, it wouldn’t be the same without you to talk to at lunch.”

  Phoebe laughed on the other end. “You really do need to learn to socialise more, Grantley.”

  “Nope, I’m good.”

  We continued talking and as Phoebe told me about one of the soap actors falling over and spoiling a scene, there was a knock at my door. I ignored it the first time, but when it happened again but a little louder, I thought I should answer it.

  “Hey Phoebes, someone’s at my door, just hang on a second.”

  “Okay.”

  I padded over to the door and swung it open, to find Francesca on the other side.

  “Hey Grantley,” she said in her sickly-sweet voice. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

  I looked down at myself and realized I was still only dressed in a towel.

  “Hey Frannie, sorry, I’m running a little late.”

  “That’s okay, I can come inside and wait.” She licked her top lip, and didn’t hide the fact that she was ogling my body. “Maybe catch a little more of that body, although there’s not much of it I haven’t already seen.”

  “Give me five and I’ll be right down.”

  Francesca nodded. “Okay, I’ll save you a place right next to me.”

  I flashed an empty smile and watched as she sashayed away. Closing the door, I put my phone back to my ear.

  “Hey Phoebes, I’m going to have to go.”

  “Okay. Take care and have a good night,” she replied in a quiet, flat tone. “And I hope the next two days go well. Night, Grantley.”