Limelight and Longing (Movie Star Romance Book 1)

by Jay Shaw

  “Whatever you say, Ozzy.” Adam held his fist out for Jacob to bump before dropping down into position on his blocking tape. “Let’s get this on the first try.”

  Jacob smirked and moved to take up his mark off-camera, blaster in hand, ready to charge in on Oswald’s cue. Adam always said that at the start of a scene, and strangely enough it helped Jacob get into character too.

  “Dante Jones and the Crystal Lotus, scene fourteen, take one.”

  The sound of the clapper board completed Jacob’s transition into Ethan Fox and he braced for the call.

  “And three…two…one….action!”

  ♥♥♥

  Jenna woke to rain pounding a tattoo on the roof and wind howling around the windows trying to find a way in, screaming in frustration when it failed. The idea of leaving the sanctuary of her warm bed to drive the thirty minutes to school wasn’t a favorable one. Instead she snuggled deeper into her nest of blankets and closed her eyes. But sleep wasn’t coming back, both the storm and her well-trained body clock preventing a lie-in of any duration.

  She groaned and flopped a hand out in search of her phone, pulling it in under the covers where it illuminated her blanket cave in a harsh white glow. A cheerful bleep signaled three new messages – all from Jacob. She held tight to the fluttery excited feeling in her belly at the sight of his name on her screen and tapped open the first one.

  Waiting for A.

  A for Adam? Well that explained why he’d had time to text her in the middle of his filming day. She rolled on her side, pulling her knees up and snuggling into the warmth surrounding her inside and out. He’d been thinking of her.

  M’s sandy.

  She wondered exactly which M he meant, since he hadn’t been allowed to disclose any of their shooting locations. But the image of her disgruntled action star in a place where sand was an issue made her chuckle. Jacob wasn’t a fan of sand.

  WYWH.

  Another tap revealed an acronym she’d never seen before. It wasn’t the first of its kind. Jacob’s unique text-speak had taken a bit of getting used to the first few days into their sporadic trans-hemisphere conversation. But a quick search usually ended with a duh moment, and then she was sending back her own reply. Jenna brought up the search app on her phone, tapped in WYWH, and grinned when the top result brought clarity.

  Wish You Were Here.

  “Me too.” She whispered and traced a fingertip over the text whose meaning equated to so much more than the sum of its four individual letters.

  Me too.

  Wherever *here* is.

  7.30 - work calls.

  She tapped Send and lay on her back, phone on her belly, and sighed before throwing back the covers and leaping to her feet in a whorl of energy and a spectacular case of bed-hair.

  ♥♥♥

  It wasn’t until recess that Jenna turned her phone back on. The message app sprang to life as if it was reciting a Christmas carol.

  “Someone’s keen.” Eleanor, the other fifth grade teacher in the classroom next to Jenna’s, smiled at her from beside the coffee machine.

  “Sorry.” Jenna clutched her phone to her chest in an effort to muffle the bleeping.

  Eleanor emptied her fourth Sweeeet! sachet into her enormous Coffee-Drinking Is My Super Power What’s Yours? mug and reached for a wooden stirrer. “No, no, it’s fine. I’m just jealous.”

  Jenna made an encouraging sound and eased out a relieved breath when her phone fell silent at last.

  “George hardly ever texts me. Even when we were first together.” Eleanor waved a dismissive hand and sank into the chair opposite Jenna. “Not that texting was an option back in the time of the dinosaurs.”

  Jenna bit her lip to keep from laughing. Eleanor was her senior by a good three decades, but the woman’s carefully-maintained features and on-trend wardrobe did a great job of concealing the fact.

  “How long have you been together?”

  “Huh?” Jenna’s attention had drifted to the first of Jacob’s messages and she answered without looking up. “Oh, two months.”

  Had it really been that long? Could what she and Jacob had be classed as a relationship, when ninety-percent of their interactions were via text?

  “Oh, I remember those days.” Eleanor sipped from her mug and gave Jenna a slow knowing smile. “All the hot sweaty sex you could want.”

  “Eleanor!” Jenna glanced around the teacher’s lounge to see if anyone had overheard, but they were alone – for the moment.

  “I’ll take that to mean I’ve hit the nail on the head, as it were.”

  Jenna sighed and Eleanor leaned across the table between them. “Oh, you can tell me, honey. Doesn’t he know what he’s doing in the bedroom?”

  “No, I mean yes, hell yes, but he’s away for work and well…I miss him.” Jenna gestured to her phone where Jacob’s messages waited eagerly for her attention. “I don’t know if all this back ‘n’ forth makes it easier, or harder.”

  Eleanor patted her on the wrist, giving it a bracing squeeze before returning to her coffee. “When’s he back?”

  Jenna didn’t know how to respond. They hadn’t discussed it. Too busy memorizing each other with mouths and hands to dwell on their impending separation. They’d barely remembered to exchange contact information in the airport before she flight was called for boarding. Now, two months into said separation, it didn’t seem like the best of plans. “Four months.”

  “Oh, honey.” This time Eleanor’s pat was one of consolation. “I’ll leave you to your messages, but if you want my dime’s worth, a man who takes the time to message that much…you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

  Jenna smiled, surprised how comforted by Eleanor’s assurances she was. She didn’t doubt Jacob’s loyalty or his desire for her. Two nights ago she’d watched him lying naked on the bed in his tent, somewhere on the other side of the world, jacking off for her while she did the same for him.

  Sprawled in her desk chair with her skirt around her waist like a belt, panties caught on one high heel, one leg over the armrest so he could see everything. Her head flung back and her breasts framed by the pushed-down bra, their nipples hard nubs of excitement as she worked for her pleasure. The sound of her name in Jacob’s deep voice murmuring encouragement, his sweet dirty nothings pouring from her laptop speakers, had her screaming his name and coming hard on fingers she wished were his.

  Afterward, the only sounds in the shocked silence of her house had been her harsh ragged breaths leaving her boneless and sated body. All praise to whichever TransCom employee had come up with the idea for a face-to-face online communication program. But even with the assistance of an innovative telecommunications company, it was easy to understand why long distance relationships struggled to survive. God, she missed her gorgeous movie star lover with his deep dark eyes, crazy-hot smile, and sleek honed muscles. But it was the way he held her like she was something precious, someone to be treasured beyond physical attraction. And his laugh, so free and warm it lured her in until her sides ached and neither could remember what’d started them off. Two completely different lifestyles would factor in at some point, of that Jenna was sure; but travelling Life’s bumpy road without Jacob by her side wasn’t something she was prepared to contemplate.

  Jenna sighed; five minutes before Social Science, enough time to read – if not reply – to Jacob’s messages. If she was lucky he’d still be up when she had her lunch break and they could text back and forth without the annoying time zone differential, before she headed in to supervise her class’s math test.

  Rescued A 12 times today.

  X has lousy timing.

  She chuckled to herself. Jacob might be bitching, but she knew as well as he did, he loved every minute of being a big-time action hero. Xavier King, the actor behind Leck Romanenko – space smuggler extraordinaire and purveyor of information, with his fingers in every kind of pie the Outer Rim Territories could offer up - attended both Wellington and Melbourne conventions,
but Jenna hadn’t been inclined to meet him. Not when Jacob was there, live and in the flesh.

  Note to self – never wear leather to the beach.

  Jenna pictured his annoyed face and her fingers itched to tousle his hair, knowing he’d duck into her touch and laugh at himself. Oh the hardships that must be endured to earn a crust in Hollywood’s gilded realm. A sweet smile played at the corner of her mouth as she tapped open the next message.

  Poker with the guys tonight.

  Glad the beer’s safe here.

  There was a two hour gap between the last two messages and she was happy he had a distraction and some time off from his grueling shooting schedule.

  Thinking of you.

  Her heart thudded an extra beat and she felt hot all over. She knew the feeling. Every minute of every day, Jacob Starr lingered in her thoughts. Background or foreground, it didn’t matter, he was always on her mind. It was a miracle she got anything other than daydreaming or pining done from one hour to the next.

  A says thanks for the winnings.

  Her face ached with how hard she grinned. He’d been so distracted thinking about her that Adam won the round at cards. Jacob hadn’t said what he lost, but she hoped it was only a few dollars and not something insane like the pink slip to his truck, or a dare that would have him streaking naked down Hollywood Boulevard. Even if the mental image held a certain appeal.

  Dune buggies on Saturday.

  The bikes get more air.

  She could almost see his pout as she imagined him in motorcycle leathers instead of allowing herself to fret over the dangers. Would he take her out in a buggy? She’d have to remember to ask.

  The bell rang and Jenna switched off her phone before putting it in her locker. Then she straightened her black pencil skirt and headed across the quad to her classroom. Social Science was one of her favorite subjects to teach, and her students appeared to enjoy the experience. Today’s lesson might have to include a pop quiz on how many countries began with the letter M.

  She entered to the buzz of children’s voices revved up on fresh air and the scrape of chair legs on linoleum, and clapped her hands to gain everyone’s attention. “Hurry, sit down, we’ve got a lot to get through. Please initialize your screens and access your Social Science folder.”

  The room settled into an industrious hum and Jenna lost herself in the joy of teaching young minds. It’d always been something she wanted to do. While other little girls had tea parties with their dolls, she’d taught Barnaby Bear, Spaceman Steve, Cuddles the purple unicorn, and Giraffey, their ABCs and their one-two-three’s in her best school ma’am voice. She’d achieved her Master’s in five years instead of the usual six, and had been teaching fifth grade at Lockwood Elementary ever since.

  “Miss?”

  “Yes, Benjamin?” Jenna looked up from her own screen; knowing what was coming.

  A tow-headed boy in the third row rested his chin on his palms and sighed with a dramatic air. “I forgot my password again.”

  Chapter Eight

  Jacob lounged on the red suede sofa in Sound Bite’s mixing room with Xavier and Savannah while Adam was in the booth; headphones on and rehashing his dialogue from the Iskan City crowd scene. It was a drag to be called back for additional dialogue recording, but it meant his and the other actors’ contribution to the project was almost done. One, two days, tops, and he’d be a free agent until the junkets began in the lead up to the premiere.

  He rubbed his palms up and down his thighs. Jenna. Just the thought of her brought a slow sweet smile to his lips and warmth nestled in his chest. Elation rushed light and free in his veins, and goosebumps broke out over his skin. How he’d survived this long without her near him was a mystery. The memory of her arched back in her chair, sexy-teacher blouse and skirt yanked aside; breasts with their rosy teats on show just for him, creamy thighs spread wide as she fingered herself. He’d been harder than he could ever remember being as her pretty moans taunted him across the Transcom connection.

  “Jacob?” Savannah elbow-tabbed him, one perfectly-manicured brow arched in query as if it wasn’t the first time she’d tried to get his attention. “You okay?”

  He shifted to ease the pressure of his zipper on his chubbed-up dick and laid his hands in his lap in what he hoped was a relaxed pose. If she noticed he’d never hear the end of it. “Yeah, I’m good.”

  Savannah scooted toward the edge of the sofa; delicate gold belly chain emphasizing the way her black yoga pants clung to her hips, lean thighs spread for balance as she swooped her long blond hair up into a messy bun at her nape. The pose accentuated the sweet curve of her spine and gentle swell of her ass, making him long for Jenna all the more. He wondered if the maneuver was a deliberate ploy on Savannah’s part to gain male attention. An artifice perfected over time until it became a natural part of the graceful alluring woman she was.

  Either way it worked a treat. After all, he wasn’t the only man in the room who’d noticed. Xavier ran a hand along his jaw, palm rasping over fashionable stubble. Then reached to slurp from his jumbo pineapple soda; straw noisy as he sucked up the dregs.

  “You’re next, Miss Westbrook.” Zach’s voice seemed to fade in and out. His gaze fixed on the mixing bank as he flicked switches and slid levers with long slender fingers.

  “Zach, honey, I’ve told you to call me Sav.” Savannah smiled; her voice a hypnotizing blend of little girl and sex kitten.

  Zach hunched his shoulders in an attempt to hide the bright color painting his cheeks as he flipped the intercom switch. “You’re all done, Mr Chase.”

  Jacob gave the guy credit. Savannah Westbrook wasn’t a woman to be denied – anything. And yet, it appeared their sound engineer hadn’t had the privilege of sampling her wares.

  Adam held the door open as Savannah sashayed past him into the recording booth, flimsy blue fabric of her crop top rippling in the draught from the air-con, and boosted herself up onto the waiting stool. “Ready when you are, Zachary.”

  “Seems Zach’s the flavor of the minute.” Adam groaned under his breath and dropped down onto the sofa beside Jacob. He scooped a fistful of shelled pistachios from the bowl on the glass coffee table and poured them into his mouth.

  “Looks that way.”

  Adam crunched through the nuts and reached for a low-carb soda, popped the tab, swigged and swallowed. “Another poor sap takes the bait.”

  Jacob snorted and leaned his head back, arch of the cushion supporting his neck.

  “Speaking of poor saps…” Jacob opened one eye and glared at his friend. “When’s Jenna arrive? Or haven’t you invited her yet?”

  “No.” Something in him twisted up tight at the thought. What if he asked her and she turned him down? But then, a voice whispered inside his head, if he didn’t ask the answer would definitely be no. “Haven’t had time.”

  It wasn’t a complete lie. He’d still been shooting scenes right up until the last day when Oswald wrapped the project. Then he’d slept for close to twenty-nine hours straight. He’d spent the following day and a half feeling like a zombie on steroids. A strange mix of exhaustion and energized enthusiasm brought on by differing time zones and the absence of a demanding schedule. The empty pizza boxes, soda cans and beer bottles, sub wrappers, and butterscotch pudding cups, littering the designer furniture of his apartment declared themselves witness to his post-wrap carb binge. It hadn’t been pretty. But the long hot showers were the definition of bliss. Two days passed before he was convinced he’d gotten rid of every last grain of sand, smear of fake blood and makeup from his skin, and gel from his hair.

  It’d felt good to lounge around in nothing but a pair of old sweats. To watch the sun set to the husky cadences of Persephone Jones’ debut album Bootleg Blues, and stay up late talking with Jenna without worrying about early calls to set. His extra-long black leather couch proved a wise purchase when he woke draped in the old crochet throw his grandmother made him, the midday sun streaming bright and warm across
his face.

  Okay, so he wasn’t that busy, but it was his process dammit. And he hadn’t wanted to think about anything work related, including the rapidly-approaching red carpet premiere.

  “Isn’t that why you have a PA and an agent?” Adam smirked; the bastard. “Go on, get Rick or Ingrid on it. What’s the problem, you think she’ll turn you down?”

  He didn’t, not really. Money could be an issue, but he’d already decided to have her ticket waiting at the airport for her once he’d invited Jenna to be his plus-one. Jacob tugged his phone from his pocket and brought up Ingrid’s number.

  She answered on the second ring. “Jacob, darling, are you finished recording?”

  “Just about to go in. Hey, can you do me a favor?”

  “Sure thing, darling.”

  “Can you mail Jenna an invite for the premiere? I’ll text you her address.”

  “It’ll be in this afternoon’s post.”

  He could hear the smile in her voice, along with the million or so questions she was dying to ask. “Thanks, make it priority registered.”

  “Of course. Anything else, darling?”

  “No, no, that’s it.”

  “Okay, Auf Wiedersehen.”

  The call dropped out before he could say anything else, and he pushed his phone back into his pocket. He’d make sure to message Jenna as soon as he finished up.

  Adam handed him the platter of gourmet sandwiches but Jacob waved him off. He didn’t eat before recording dialogue. Adam shrugged and lounged back with the platter balanced across the threadbare thighs of his designer-faded jeans, and bit into what looked to be a beef and horseradish bagel with sesame sprinkle.

  ♥♥♥

  It was after midnight when Jacob made it home. Adam, Xavier, and Savannah, having convinced him on the merits of Siesta Sid’s chili-beef enchiladas. The guys vetoed Savannah’s karaoke and shots idea in favor of margarita pitchers and a few games of pool. She pouted prettily and played the part of pool cue virgin with Oscar-winning skill, but none of them were fooled. They’d all lost too many Ben Franklins to that pout over the years.