by J. C. Grant
An Audrey Hepburn/Holly Golightly look-alike was in front of us then—tiara, oversized sunglasses, cigarette stick, the whole nine.
“Oh, perfect! I love this!” That was when I realized it was Elaine. “Look at you two, a 1940s sexy blast from the past.”
Before I could respond, she grabbed my other hand and led us through the house.
When I stepped into the kitchen, I was five years old again, if only for a second. The walls were covered in white wallpaper with green vines and grapes. The cabinets and tile countertops were white. It was the exact same kitchen we'd had when I was little.
“Would either of you like a drink?” Elaine asked.
“Nope, we're good,” David answered, then leaned into me. “You're good, right?”
“Yeah, I'm fine,” I answered distractedly as I looked around the party. There were many faces I recognized, and none were from having met them before.
“Hey, man, how’s it going?” I heard someone say from behind me.
"Good," was David’s clipped response.
“Who's that?” I heard the guy ask quietly.
“My wife.” From David's hard tone, I knew something about the inquiry was offensive.
“Seriously? Shit. I'm sorry, man.”
After hearing that exchange, I didn't want to turn around and be introduced to whoever it was.
“Hey,” Elaine distracted me, pulling me away from the exchange David was still having. Then she whispered quietly, “There are several people here I want to introduce you to, but David can't be with you. He's like a guard dog, scaring everyone off.”
I'd wondered why she'd been watching David since we entered the kitchen. I guess that had been his test, see how he would behave with all the men around. Apparently, he failed.
I nodded, not willing to say anything in case David was listening. Idly, I wondered if maybe he was right.
Were we working against him?
I hadn't intended to.
“One of them is the owner of the house,” Elaine interrupted my thoughts. “I know it's a little interesting in here, but keep that in mind.”
Instantly, I knew the person who owned the house was going to be a great match for my project. The house was proof they shunned Hollywood's expectations. And the crowd... It looked like they'd just gone down the Who's Who in Hollywood list.
Everyone was there.
“So how long do we have to be here?” David rasped behind my ear, but he was clearly talking to Elaine.
“Well, I need you to do some mixing and mingling for me tonight, David. Your manager's been trying to get you an endorsement deal, a big one, and they've been on the fence about you since the Zach Stone incident, so you need to talk to him. I'll introduce you.” She grabbed his hand, attempting to pull him away.
I mentally cringed at the mention of Zach. It was not the time to remind David of my ex, and the incident that led to the epic beat down David had given him.
“Austin—”
“No, David, you need to do this without her, and I'll stay with her,” she assured him.
I felt torn between the two of them. I didn’t want to hide anything from David, but I also wanted a career. Elaine was right, he was very resistant to what needed to be done in order for me to have one. It was going to be tricky, because I needed his jealousy and possessiveness to feel loved, but I didn’t think my career would survive it.
“Don't take anything from anyone and don't go anywhere with anyone,” David warned me quietly, softly. His genuine concern clear.
“Of course.”
“She'll be with me, David,” Elaine reminded him.
I watched as Elaine led him to a group of men, introducing them before excusing herself and heading back to me.
"Men, they're like children." Elaine sighed. “Okay, let's go get you introduced.”
Elaine hooked her arm in mine and led me out of the kitchen through the dining room, past David and the men she had occupying him, and into the living area.
“Perfect, he's alone,” she muttered to me as she pulled me toward a stout man wearing a ringleader costume.
“Jeff,” Elaine called out in an over-the-top, happy tone. “This party is amazing.”
I hesitated, surprised by her abrupt change in demeanor. She was definitely ‘on’. Briefly, I wondered if that was what I had looked like to David when I did my ‘act’. My face heated with embarrassment.
“Elaine.” He turned, facing us. He appeared to be fortyish, and I would've guessed he had a receding hairline under the top hat he was wearing. “Thank you. I'm so happy you made it. And who is this lovely lady with you?”
“This is Austin James, the one I was telling you about.”
“Hi, it's nice to meet you,” I greeted, taking his outstretched hand. It was an old-fashioned handshake. I half expected him to kiss my knuckles.
“It's nice to meet you.” His voice was smooth as he continued to hold my hand. “I'm very interested in this little project of yours. I would love to hear more about it.”
“Of course,” I agreed readily.
I had a feeling this was the owner of the house. He was eccentric, and he had a peculiar charm about him that I couldn't place. It wasn't slimy or creepy; it was old-fashioned and... interesting. And I didn't get any flirty vibes from him at all, which immediately put me at ease.
I explained to him the premise of my project, but didn't give away any details. Before I knew it, thirty minutes had passed.
But the time hadn't escaped David. I'd seen him looking for us. We'd moved over into the far corner by the patio doors. Honestly, there were several reasons I hadn't called out to him. This was a business party—for me anyway—and I didn't want to seem like I couldn't function without David by my side. Or worse, appear to be the henpecked wife. Another reason was because I was afraid of what it might look like from David's point of view, us tucked away in the corner together. I didn't want David overreacting and causing a scene.
I wasn’t sure what I thought would happen—that David would stop looking, or just give up? In hindsight, not calling him over when I first saw him was a mistake.
“Elaine,” David's stern voice rumbled behind me. “You trying to hide my wife from me?”
“David—” Elaine started.
“Babe,” I tried, looking over my shoulder.
His jaw was clenched as he stared at Elaine, the anger evident in his eyes. He'd figured out what Elaine was doing, keeping him busy and away from me.
“David Taylor,” Jeff interjected cheerfully. "I hear we're going to get three more seasons out of you."
David looked to Jeff, his expression relaxing somewhat. “Yeah, three more seasons.”
“I'm a huge Dodgers fan.” Jeff seemed entertained by the tension between David and Elaine. “But I had no idea that Austin was your wife. I guess I missed that part.”
The thickest, hardest, most explicit body I'd ever known pressed up behind me. Those sculpted pecs flexed against my back as a warm, possessive hand slid across my bare stomach, fingers fanning out and pinning me to him.
“Oh, did these two fail to mention that she’s married?” The warning in his tone was clear, but it wasn’t directed at Jeff; it was meant for me and Elaine.
The cold metal of his belt buckle against the small of my back was in sharp contrast to the warm platinum band pushing against my stomach. I felt trapped. Controlled. And I couldn't help but think of the way he pinned me down when we fucked.
Instinctively, my hips tilted back and my hand covered his. When realization struck, I had a moment of panic as my eyes darted between Elaine and Jeff, hoping they hadn't notice. If they did, they didn't let on.
But David noticed.
Immediately, a low hum of approval rattled through his chest, vibrating against my back. Luckily, the chatter and low music covered it.
“Actually, they did forget, but with a ring that size—” Jeff nodded toward my hand that was gripping David's tight. “—no need to announce
it. I was actually referring to the news. I've been out of the country for a couple months, guess I need to catch up on my celebrity gossip.”
I couldn't help but like Jeff even more; the way he handled David was brilliant. And he really did seem entertained by David's reaction to finding me in the corner with him.
“I'm gonna monopolize my wife for a little while," David announced as he let go of my waist and intertwined our fingers.
"Ummm, I'll see you later. It was so nice to meet you, Jeff," I managed to say before David pulled me away. “David, what are you doing?” I whispered, gripping his bicep with my other hand, nearly clinging to him as he led me through the house. “Elaine has more people she wants me to meet."
He paused at the bottom of the stairs, leaned into me, and growled, "Did you really think you were gonna wear that sexy little outfit, ditch me for thirty minutes, then press your ass against my dick and not get fucked?"
A barely audible "oh" escaped me before he led me up the stairs, down the hall, and into a bathroom.
Emerald green marble covered the floor and area surrounding the step-up Jacuzzi bathtub. Everything else was white, everything except the gold hardware accents. While I was focused on the bold décor, David was locking the door behind us. In the next breath, he was pushing me up against the double vanity.
Catching his gaze in the mirror, we watched each other. In our costumes, we didn't feel like us, at least not to me. But I liked it.
"Down. Stick your ass out." His quiet command sent a chill up my back as I obeyed, bending over, bracing my forearms against the cool, white, tile counter, my hips arching toward him.
"Doesn't this seem wrong, dressed the way we are?" I asked, holding his stare in the mirror.
He gave me an incredulous look.
"If I'd just met you, and I was shipping out the next day, this is exactly what we'd be doing. So no, I think it seems pretty fucking accurate."
I heard the hallow clank of his belt unbuckle, the zip of his fly, the rustle of fabric. Then his fingers were sliding under my panties, roughly yanking them aside.
My body was strung tight with anticipation as David stared at my exposed sex.
The sudden stinging slap of his palm against my pussy jolted me forward. “But you know what does seem wrong, my wife hiding from me.” He slapped it again, and I gasped. “At a party, where a bunch of horny assholes are staring at her ass like it’s candy.” He slapped it again, harder.
My chest heaved as violent need tore through me.
Before I could recover, his thick cock was pushing into me from behind.
“Goddamn girl, you liked that,” he rasped, pushing in deep.
It took a moment for his words to sink through my lust haze. Then I felt and heard how wet I was.
I didn't understand what was wrong with me, why I responded to his roughness that way, but it felt so good, and I was so horny, I didn't give a shit.
“Fuck me,” I pleaded, widening my stance, my hips straining toward him, wanting more.
“Fuck, I think that's a record,” he murmured. “From zero to begging for it in less than thirty seconds.”
I didn't respond. I was too focused on arching my hips, getting his balls to slap my clit.
A deep, hungry sound rattled through his chest. “That's my girl.”
*****
Sunday and Monday had been quiet as David and I returned to our normal schedule. Well, mostly. Aside from the gym, we spent most of the time at home resting, finally letting David recover from his jet lag. I hadn't heard anything from Elaine since the party, and with what David had done at the party…
Oh, God.
I still couldn't believe we did that—at someone else's home. But I was so lust-drunk, I couldn't think straight.
Apparently, we were a little... loud. Because when we finally emerged, over an hour later, we received several knowing looks, including ones from Jeff and Elaine, as we made our way through the house and out to the waiting car.
Needless to say, I was surprised when she called Tuesday morning just after we'd finished breakfast.
“Hello?”
“Mr. Toler just called me,” Elaine greeted calmly.
“I'm taking Chance outside, sweetheart,” David interrupted as he stood, taking the breakfast tray with him.
“Okay,” I called to his retreating form. “Sorry, Elaine. Mr. Toler?” I asked.
“Yeah, Jeff.” When I didn't respond, she reminded me, “You met him at his Halloween party the other night.”
Holy shit.
Jeffrey Toler.
Elaine had never told me his last name. Jeffrey Toler was a major player in Hollywood. He'd gotten his start five years earlier when his indie film went to Sundance and blew the fuck up. Since then, he'd been producing raunchy comedies that had proved to be box office gold.
"You didn't tell me who he was... Oh, my God, I'm so glad you didn't tell me who he was." I would've been nervous and done something incredibly stupid or embarrassing, as was my normal nervous behavior. I still didn't understand how David was able to look past that craziness when we met.
"I told you, just trust me."
"Okay? What's the news?" I cringed as I asked.
"Well, he's not interested in doing a short."
My hope instantly started deflating, not that I would have ever expected someone like him to be interested.
"He wants to know if you could turn it into a series?” My breath caught in my chest as she continued, “He's thinking eight seasons. What do you think?"
Holy shit.
I didn't even bother considering her real question.
"Yes."
"Austin, can you come up with enough material to last eight seasons?" she asked again.
"Is this serious? Is this real?" I questioned.
"Yes, he's ready to make the calls as soon as you give him something to bring to the networks."
Holy fuck.
"He wants a completed script? For a pilot?" I checked.
"The script for your short is perfect. The opening scene has to be the very first scene in the pilot. It sets everything up—the new girl in town, first time at the Oscars, and everything that can go wrong, does. That's what sold me on the script. That's what's going to sell him and the network."
"Okay, I should flesh that section out a little more then?" I checked, wanting to make sure I didn’t fuck this up.
"Yeah, add a little more to the bathroom scene, the sex scene in the elevator, and the limo ride home. How long do you think it will take you to do that?"
"I'll do it right now. A few hours, maybe?"
"That's fine. Just give it to me by morning, okay?"
"Yes, absolutely. Thank you so much, Elaine."
Thank you wasn't nearly enough, but I didn't know what else to say.
"I told you, the idea is amazing. But we can't let up on this. It's going to move fast. He wants a summer schedule."
Fuck, that would be fast. Having a short turned into a series required a full season of scripts, location scouting, casting, directors, and more. All of which had to be done before filming could start, and to be airing in nine months? And two of those months, December and January, Hollywood pretty much came to a grinding halt.
"Okay, no problem," I lied. Though I knew I would only have to worry about the scripts and casting, it suddenly seemed like a lot.
"Go get started and make sure you send it to me by morning. Talk to you later."
When the call disconnected, I wrestled with whether I should tell David. He was still outside with Chance. I weighed my options. Telling him would be the right thing to do, but there was a real possibility that nothing would come of it; that was always a possibility in Hollywood.
It was that possibility, the chance of it not going through and looking like I’d been overconfident or just a failure, that made me decide to keep it to myself until there was a contract on the table.
“Hey, sweetheart.” David's deep voice echoed down the hall into
our bedroom. "I want to leave for the gym in about an hour. I have to get back home early. The decoration company is coming by this afternoon to take everything down. And you have your appointment this afternoon.”
“Noooo,” I moaned. "Can't we leave them up a little bit longer?"
His large frame filled the doorway then. His gaze held mine for a long moment. "How about I promise that we decorate for Halloween every year?"
That wasn't what I wanted to hear, but it wasn't the time to argue about Halloween decorations. I needed to get my laptop and get some writing done.
CHAPTER EIGHT
David
I hated this. Waiting for Austin, giving her space. Maybe it was because I had unwillingly agreed to it, or maybe it was because she wanted it, but letting her have a few hours a day to herself was pure torture.
After our workout, she headed out to get one of her green drinks before her appointment—an hour and a half early. She could have gone anywhere, met up with anyone and I wouldn’t know.
That wasn’t true.
I glanced over at my phone again. I could track her down in seconds, but I’d told her I wouldn’t.
Ten more minutes, I told myself, trying to refocus on the screen.
Chance and I were lying on the couch, where we had been since the décor company left, indulging in a rare afternoon of watching ESPN. And that’s exactly how long I’d been playing this little game with myself.
Ten more minutes... Give her ten more minutes.
If she hadn’t called by then, I’d track her phone, or her car. Probably both.
It was the fourth time, I’d told myself that.
Just as I was about to cave, my phone lit up. Austin was getting a call from Elaine. I waited a few seconds, giving Austin a chance to answer before I did.
“Hey.”
“David?” Elaine asked confused. “Is Austin around?”
“No, she's got her colonic today. What's up?” I asked, turning the volume down.
“I need the file for her short,” Elaine explained, gaining my full attention.
“Okay?” I couldn’t keep the irritation out of my voice. “Can she do it when she gets home?”