Cherry Bomb: Forbidden Bad Boys

by Clara Leigh

  Dare shakes his head at him. “Yeah, you’re so fucking funny.”

  I’m pretty sure this is just good natured teasing, but there’s an undercurrent I’m not entirely sure about. “Is there something between you I should know about?”

  “Only a few years and a couple of dozen blowjobs.” The words roll off Lorne’s tongue with frightening ease, yet his smile is so broad I’m certain he’s ragging me.

  “You can bugger off now pal,” Dare instructs.

  “Still got a few more cherries to claim?” Lorne sticks a finger into his inflated cheek and then pulls it out fast, making a loud popping noise. In retaliation, Dare pelts him with strawberries until he leaves. I hope the decorator used scrub-able paint, because while he’s awesome at a whole bunch of things, Dare’s aim utterly sucks.

  “I’m sorry about that,” he apologises as soon as the bedroom door is closed. “Waste of good strawberries.”

  I take one of the remaining few and dunk it in the chocolate before offering it to him in a way that dribbles sauce all over his chest. Naturally that involves me having to lick it off. “Has Lorne really blown you?” I ask as I get level with Dare’s lips.

  “Maybe a couple of times, not dozens.”

  “Oh!” I sit back and cover my mouth.

  “I’m not a saint, Flicka. You know that. I’m sure you’ve seen the celebrity gossip columns.”

  Yes, I do, and I daresay there are many, many more sexual exploits in his history that might make me feel just a tad queer too. He’s probably tried everything at least once or twice, and some things with more people than it’s probably wise to calculate. If I’m squeamish about that fact, it’s only because I can’t claim anything approaching similar knowledge. Experience wise, we’re a zillion miles apart.

  “Flicka.” He leans into me. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah.” I huff out a little sigh, then muster a smile. “I just didn’t know you swung that way. I guess that’s two things I’ve learned about you today that the world doesn’t know. Are you going to spring a third?”

  “Yup,” he says, planting his palm right in the chocolate bowl. “I go loopy if I eat chocolate.” He paints my body with the mess, getting me sticky all over before licking me clean. Dare Wilde is very oral orientated. Not that I’m complaining, given the pay-out is dirty sex that makes me ache so good I don’t think I ever want to leave his bed.

  It’s not just lust that’s keeping me here though. It’s not even the prospect of a future in which I’m not ruled by a giant rodent. There’s more to it than that. When you move him out of the limelight, there’s a man beneath the glamour who’s looking for something that isn’t covered in glitter, something that is solid and real, that he can hold on to and trust.

  I want that thing – whatever it is – too.

  “You’re going to come to my trailer and do this with me every night, right?” I insist sometime later as we’re snuggled together post-climax. His arms are tight around me, one leg is cocked over the top of mine and my cheek is pressed against his shoulder in a way that lets me breathe in the salty aroma of his skin.

  “Only if you have a handy invisibility cloak or you’re ready to fireball your Chinchilla contract. Otherwise—” He shakes his head gloomily. “—it’ll be the odd, sweet caress while the camera is rolling.”

  “I’ll go insane if I can’t touch you.”

  “Hark at you, Miss. Insatiable.”

  “If I am it’s because what’s on offer is so tempting.” I fake bite one of his flat brown nipples.

  Dare takes hold of my hand and raises our entwined fingers to his lips. “We’ll find a way to make it work, Flicka. Promise.”

  Too right we will. This is too good to allow other people to destroy with their disapproval.

  “Maybe we can develop a code or something.”

  “What and slip ciphers underneath one another’s doors?’

  “Admit it, you like the idea of getting cryptic notes from me.”

  I roll onto my stomach and kick up my legs behind me. “Will they turn me on?”

  “I think you have sex on the brain. Isn’t it supposed to be guys who are constantly thinking about it?”

  I poke my tongue out at him, which simply makes him smirk. “It’s your fault. You shouldn’t be so sexy.”

  “I can totally grow a beard and forget to wash for a few days if that’ll help.”

  I’ve a sneaking suspicion that might actually have the opposite effect. Not that I’m mad for beards and sweaty bodies, but he wouldn’t be the first loveable rogue who forgot to take a bath that I’ve crushed on – I am quite partial to a certain zombie series and one of its crossbow firing characters. Maybe I should audition to be a badass chick in a zombie flick.

  “More snuggles,” Dare demands, covering my body with his. “Before we both have to face the world.” It’s true that much as we’d both love to stay here, we’re expected to be back on set for the crack of dawn tomorrow, and I don’t want to have to explain to Jace Jones why I’m late.

  I roll us over, so he’s not squashing the breath out of me. Men are way heavy.

  “And one more,” I add.

  “One more what? Strawberry? Nah, I’m too full. I’ll burst.” He hugs his stomach, earning himself another prod.

  “One more ride into the sunset.”

  He grins when I straddle his hips. “Why am I not surprised you want to be on top?”

  “Problem?”

  “Nope.” He folds his arms so that his hands are behind his head. “It means I can lie on my back and chill while you do all the work.”

  That isn’t quite how it turns out.

  I’m a weeny bit sore post-finale. Seems I need to learn to better pace myself.

  -25-

  Felicity Caine

  “Flicka! Oh my God, Flicka, you’re here!”

  Flo’s face is lined with worry. She’s dressed in mismatched workout clothes and has her hair pulled up onto the top of her head in a messy ponytail that looks like a pineapple. I don’t think I’ve seen her look so ragged since we were tots and mum was solely responsible for our presentation and attire.

  “I’ve been out of my mind. Where’ve you been? Oh my God, Flicka! I mean, oh my God! When I left last night you said you were going to bed, then I get back in the wee hours and you’re not here. Not only that, no one has seen you. I had to enquire. I mean, I had to. I had no fucking clue where you were and you weren’t answering your phone. I’ve sent you like a thousand texts. Where’s your phone? Did you lose it again? How come you haven’t answered?”

  I hold up my hand, mostly to slow her down as she’s already asked so many questions at once. Her mouth hangs open as she waits for me to respond, and I’m horrified to see there are tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. I should have answers. Flo deserves answers, especially as I’ve scared her so much, but it’s probably better for everyone involved if I don’t mention my whereabouts or who I’ve been with and what I’ve been doing for the last twenty-four hours. I’m not concerned about Flo spilling my business. She’s my sister and we’ve always stood by one another no matter what, but if she’s unaware then no one can hold it against her. Also, I want to keep Dare all to myself, for him to exist as my secret lover for a little while, before the rest of the world poke their noses in and dust the magic off our relationship.

  I know it’ll happen. He’s A-list, and a favourite of the celebrity gossip mags. It’s a miracle some paparazzo hasn’t already snapped us in a dozen compromising poses.

  “Where were you?” my sister demands again. She gets to her feet and paces towards me. “Where, Flicka? Why aren’t you saying anything? What were you doing?” She clasps my upper arms as if she means to shake me until I utter a response or my teeth fall out. Then, instead of rattling my skull, her lips curl back from her teeth as realisation dawns.

  “Yes, where were you, Flicka?”

  My eyes pop open as wide as my sister’s. “Tyler?” I jerk my head around to
find him. He’s lounging in the entrance to the bathroom, arms stretched out to clasp both sides of the doorframe, and his pretty face is all knotted up with surliness.

  “Or should the real question be who were you doing?”

  “Where I’ve been and what or who I’ve been doing are hardly your concern.” I turn back to my sister. “What’s he doing here?”

  “I told you. I had to.” Flo plants her gaze firmly on the floor. “You’ve been gone a whole day. I was scared. And better Tyler than mum or Warren. It’s been difficult enough keeping Kurt in the dark.”

  I wandered past our illustrious bodyguard in the hallway. He didn’t seem remotely surprised by that fact.

  “But Tyler?”

  “Fine, next time I’ll go straight to the police search.”

  I lift my hands in surrender. “Okay, I’m sorry. It wasn’t my intention to scare you. I just wanted some time out from everything.”

  “You weren’t with anyone?”

  I swear I keep my expression utterly neutral. The thing is, Flo and I are twins. We’ve spent our whole lifetime together, which means we know one another. A twitch, a miniscule quirk of the lips, all the little gives that other people don’t notice or attach no significance to, are utterly familiar to us. We recognise the significance of those microscopic giveaways.

  “Where did you stay last night?” Tyler throws out.

  “With a friend.”

  “A studio-approved friend?”

  “Stop digging, Tyler. It’s none of your business.”

  “It will be if you screw it all up and it affects the film we’re making.”

  “Yeah, well the only way that’s going to happen is if you squeal.”

  “Or, you know, if anyone takes a look through your wardrobe.” He holds a white shirt up, which he must have fished from the laundry basket. #TeamWilde. I don’t point out that it isn’t mine or even ask what the hell he was doing rifling through our laundry. I don’t see the point, and the more I can do to keep Flo out of this the better.

  I give Flo a squeeze, then head towards my bedroom. “Don’t you have things to do?” I ask Tyler. “Like catching a train back to the Abbey?”

  He sneers at me, but checks his watch. “Actually, I do have to go now,” he says to Flo. He gives her a quick kiss goodbye.

  “Thanks for coming over.”

  “My pleasure.”

  I’ll bet.

  Me, he throws a side-eye at. “Shall we journey together?”

  “I’ll see you back in the wilds. We’ll draw less attention if we travel apart.”

  “Yeah.” He shoots me another squinty look. “I suppose. Okay, I’ll see you back on set.”

  I don’t move until I’m sure Tyler has left the building. Flo walks him as far as the lift before returning and closing the apartment door. She puts her back to the wood a moment, then walks forward and clasps the back of our cream sofa. “Is that where you were?”

  “If you mean with Dare, then yes.”

  “Who happens to be dating Marie Logan.”

  “He’s not dating Marie or anyone else.” What I mean is anyone else besides me. That’s what we’re doing now – dating, secretly.

  I don’t know if Flo believes me or if she nods simply to avoid a disagreement. She climbs over the back of the sofa and slides into its saggy comfort. It’s really past its best, but we hang onto it because it’s been with us through everything. Sinking into its embrace is like coming home.

  “How long until the shit hits the fan?”

  I shrug. “It might not. If we can keep it quiet until the filming is done.”

  “And how likely is that?”

  I want to say not very since Tyler knows, but my actions last night when I appeared in Dare’s club and caused a fuss are a bigger issue. While nothing has emerged on social media yet, that doesn’t mean it won’t.

  I head into my room and throw some bits and bobs into a daysack ready to head back to Mortham Abbey for the rest of the film shoot. After five minutes, Flo sticks her head around the door. “You weren’t supposed to fall for him, Flicka. It was all supposed to be fake: the attraction, the meetings. The idea was that you could dust it all off and still be who you’d always been.”

  It’s all been a game of make-believe to her. That’s why her opinions have swung back and forth so often. But this isn’t the imaginary dating game we played for years between takes on set.

  “He was plan D for deception, remember?”

  “Things change. I can’t help how I feel.”

  She sighs and wiggles her toes against the carpet. Her toenails are done up like newspaper print.

  “I didn’t mean for it to be like this, but you saw that kiss, Flo. How could I not want more of that? You’ve even encouraged me.”

  A gentle sigh escapes her pretty lips.

  “I never said you shouldn’t have done this, only that it wasn’t the plan. What is the plan?”

  “I don’t know. I guess maybe there isn’t one, other than what’s been my aim all along – cutting all the unnecessary strings.” Dare can totally help with that.

  “We need one. If the press get wind of the fact you’re shagging him, we’re going to have a cataclysm on our hands.”

  Perhaps it won’t be quite that catastrophic. I can hope, at any rate.

  “And I realise that you were having fun, but really would it hurt so very much to have sent me a text so that I knew you were still in the land of the living? It’d have taken you ten seconds. I was flippin' out of my mind with worry. Don’t ever cut me off like that again.”

  “I didn’t want the world to intrude,” I say in my defence. As explanations go, I realise it’s a poor one, but it’s the truth. It was fun to exist in the little vacuum Dare and I created and simply be two people acting on their attraction to one another for a few hours. Matter of fact, I could totally go for making weekend time outs a regular thing.

  Obviously, it’s not happening as long as Jace Jones is directing what I’m working on, but when we’re not busy filming, I’m totally going to institute compulsory long, lazy weekends in bed.

  “You’re being sensible, aren’t you, Flick? Taking precautions.”

  “He has a kid,” I blurt. Fuck! I didn’t mean for that to spill out. I guess it’s been niggling away at the back of my mind, being an issue without being an out-there issue. I guess at some point there are going to have to be formal introductions and stuff. How am I involved with a guy who has a kid? I don’t think that’s supposed to happen for another ten years or so. Flo jerks upright again, halfway through lowering herself onto the bed.

  “Whoa! Since when? I assume he told you that? How old? Who with?”

  I wish she wouldn’t stack questions all on top of one another. One at a time would be much easier for me to answer.

  “It’s a secret. I’m not supposed to say anything.” I tell her what little I know. “He told me because he wanted me to know who I was getting into a relationship with. I shouldn’t have said anything. All I was trying to say is that he’s super careful about such things. He’s not aiming to become another baby’s daddy.”

  Her frowny face endures.

  “Seriously, Flo, we’re both being careful, so you don’t need to worry. I’m not going to end up pregnant with his kid.”

  “That’s okay then.” She rubs her hands across her tired face. “How soon until you leave?”

  The train I have a reservation on leaves in forty minutes, but I don’t want to share the journey with Tyler. “Why don’t we hang for a little while and I’ll catch the late train. As long as I’m in the make-up chair at the appointed time, no one will mind at what time I arrive on location.”

  “Cool.” She nods and smiles. “I’ll whip us up a quick salad.”

  Salad, not a sandwich – the old indoctrination is still at work. I wonder if we’ll ever truly claw ourselves free of Chinchilla’s clutches.

  “And I’ve another track I want you to hear that we laid down last ni
ght.”

  “We?”

  “I,” she corrects herself.

  We’ve been a duo for so long, it’s weird to think we’re moving in different directions and forming relationships that don’t involve one another.

  We used to mean Flo and I. But she just used it to mean her and the crew at the studio. I guess times are changing.

  -26-

  Dare Wilde

  “You’ve some nerve,” Jace scolds me the moment I arrive on set. I don’t even have time to dart inside my trailer before he’s bearing down on me like an irate weasel. “I gave you time off so you could see Arrietty, not so that you could hole up with the one person you’re not supposed to go near.”

  “Lorne?” I blithely wave aside Jason’s accusations and head into my mobile sanctum. Some bugger’s been in while I’ve been away and dusted. There’s no longer a collection of empties on the coffee table, and my bottle of Talisker with the dribble in the bottom has disappeared. Swines – I wasn’t finished with that! I was saving the ghost to share with Flicka or failing that, Arrietty. She loves watching things flare up and go pop! I guess she’s like me in that respect.

  “Don’t spin me any shit, Dare. I know you were with Flicka. I saw her leaving your apartment.”

  “Keeping an eye out through the keyhole were you?” I knew taking her home was a risk, but not such a big one as sitting tight at the club.

  Jace’s steps into my home from home while shaking his head, and not at the geometric 1970s décor. “What was she doing there?”

  I cock an eyebrow. Really, he needs to ask? I manspread myself over the sorry excuse for a sofa, leaving him without a place to sit. No biggy, he pushes his hands into back pockets of his cargo shorts and rocks on his heels.

  “You promised.”

  “Nope.” I shake my head for additional emphasis. “Definitely didn’t.”

  “I warned you, any shit, Dare, and that would be it for your Jack Bold pitch.”