"You know, you could try a little harder not to stand out so much," I grumbled. Nate pointed at his shades.
"I'm wearing dark glasses. What else can I do?" he said. I rolled my eyes.
"I don't know, maybe dress a little bit less..." I gestured as his muscles, "Less, you know."
"I don't, tell me," He said.
I bit my lip.
"You turn the cutest shade of red sometimes Blondie. I mean Darcy. Darcy, see, I got your name right." he said.
Things only got worse when we stepped inside the supermarket. One of the cashiers recognized Nate straight away and screamed, which caused a crowd to appear. Soon we were being swarmed by people asking for pictures and autographs and hugs. I was elbowed out of the way by a particularly eager teenage girl who insisted on telling Nate how his movies had changed her life.
Gosh darn it.
What was worse was how good Nate was with his fans. I expected him to be the same arrogant jerk as he was with me, but he kept that charming smile plastered on his face and signed every piece of paper or body part that was thrust in his direction. I sighed. This was going to take a while if he was going to do the Mr Charming act. I might as well grab the groceries. It was surprising how easy it was without other shoppers in my way.
Though I had full permission to use his credit card I kept my manners and didn’t go nuts. I grabbed what I would usually get and a few extra ingredients to jazz things up. All right, so the movie star girls had the looks but Nate was actually impressed that I could cook. I'd just have to show him how good I was. I was, after all, a lady. Don’t forget to be a lady! My mother’s voice repeated in my head.
I brought my basket to the checkout where a reluctant cashier began to scan them through, all the while staring in Nate's direction with an open mouth.
"He's really something, huh?" she said.
"You can say that again," I muttered. Her eyes fixed on me. Suddenly, I was no longer invisible.
"Wait, you're the girl who came in with him," she said, her eyes widening. I shook my head in protest but it was too late, "Yes, yes you are!"
"Yeah, so what? No big deal, right?" I said. People in the big city usually had such a relaxed attitude to celebrities. I'd thought that seeing Nate McCoy would be totally mundane for these people, but that obviously was not the case.
The girl, whose name tag said 'Carla' looked at what she was scanning.
"Are these Nate's groceries?" she asked, "Oh wow, I get the same brand of maple syrup!"
"Well isn't that just peachy." I said. This was getting a little bit much now. Carla didn't detect the sarcasm and continued to badger me mercilessly.
"So, are you his girlfriend?" she asked, raising one eyebrow.
"Goodness me, no. I'm his..." the word 'babysitter' sprang to mind but I somehow didn't think Nate would appreciate it, "His assistant. Yeah, I'm his assistant."
"Wow, you must know all about him then," she swooned, "What cologne does he wear? I bet he smells amazing. I only got close to him for a second but I think I could smell him."
I shrugged and began to bag my own groceries. Carla had no interest in helping me out.
"I don't know."
"You don't know what?"
The color drained from Carla's face and I turned around to see Nate standing behind me, smirking. His ego had gotten a good stroking, that was for sure.
"Nothing. Now can we go, or are you still hanging with your fans?" I hissed. I tried my best to sound pleasant but the tinge of bitterness in my words just wouldn't lift.
"Sure," he said. Of course he had to give Carla her autograph and make a big show of paying for the groceries himself, even though I insisted that I could cover it. By the time we left the store everyone had gotten a good look at Nate McCoy.
"Hey, who's that girl?"
"Is she his girlfriend?"
"Was she in a movie?"
"Nah, she's nobody."
Nobody.
I was nobody.
It would be in my best interests to remember that.
Nate
Okay, so being mobbed wasn't exactly my favorite thing. Long gone were the days when i could run to the store for a pack of smokes and a box of condoms without the world following me. Sheila had insisted again and again that dealing with the public was part of my job. Like I was one of those losers in a suit at a theme park. I was Nate fucking McCoy for fuck's sake. I could tell my fans to go fuck themselves and they would still be wet for me. It was all part of my image. Or so I thought.
Sheila disagreed. I wasn't an action guy anymore. I was moving into Romantic Dramas and holy fuck, apparently that meant I had to act like a little bitch.
"You're the dream guy now. The epitome of gentleman. So no spitting, no swearing, no punching paparazzi. No mooning or middle fingers. No fucking your fans!" she droned on and on. Jesus Christ, how was I supposed to have fun anymore?
"So what you're saying is I can only kick them?" I joked. Sheila didn't really do jokes.
"No! Christ on a crutch Nate, I have had it up to here with you. Why can't you act like a god damn decent human being for once in your life? I want you to smile, sign autographs and keep that pretty mouth shut! If anyone asks you about your personal life you smile and tell them that you're so focused on your new movie you haven't had time for anything else. You get it?" she said.
"Right, right, sure. I'll try it."
I didn't relish being a jerk to my fans, but they didn't interest me either. What kind of sick fuck cries about meeting some guy she doesn't know? It was weird. Sure, it worked in my favor to get the panties dropping but I'd never had problems in that area before. Jesus, sometimes being famous was like working retail. Stick on a smile and deal with every crazy member of the human race or you're fucked. Only by fucked it meant my face would be on the front of the local tabloids. And I didn't get any sweet employee discount.
Darcy didn't seem impressed by my mob, but then again what did impress her? I smiled and signed every scrap of paper or piece of merch and I only swore twice. She just looked annoyed.
We had to take a rather winding route through alleyways rather than the straightforward walk back to my place. It was the only way to lose them. Darcy was uncharacteristically silent.
I couldn't help but stare at her. Her honey blonde locks shimmered in the sunlight, bouncing as she walked. That little bounce in her step made her grumpy expression all the more endearing. She wasn't happy that I hadn't let her pay and she really wasn't happy that I hadn't let her carry the grocery bags.
"That dress is hot on you, by the way." I said. I said it light heartedly, as if I didn't really care. It clung to those tight curves in a way that made me want to grab her and ravish her. She blew a raspberry.
"I'm gonna charge you a dollar for every time you say anything sexual from now on. It should pay off my college loans in like a week," she said. Damn, I wasn't that bad, was I? Maybe I was. But every other chick liked it. But every other chick thought I was great. Darcy didn’t seem to think so.
"You went to college? Do they have college in the South?" I prodded. She didn't like that either.
"Yes, I went to college. University, actually. I graduated top of my class too, for all the good it did," she said. I wasn't surprised. Sheila wasn't going to send some dumb blonde to keep me in line. Nah, that would never work. Darcy was like a razor blade wrapped in sweet pink packaging.
"That's cool."
"Don't mock me," she said. I was being genuine. University was something that had never been on my horizon but fuck, I respected the people who went through it. You go through years of being told what to do and writing stupid essays and then you pay to do four more. Fuck it man, that took balls.
"I'm not. I think it's cool," I said. Darcy looked doubtful, but I didn't care. I'd given her plenty reason to be suspicious of my motives already, I supposed.
"All right, well, thank you then."
“What did you study?” I asked. Darcy narrowed her eyes at me but
when she couldn’t detect any sarcasm or mocking, she answered.
“Journalism with a minor in film studies,” she said.
“Film studies? Like making movies and shit?”
“No, just theory. Studying old movies and foreign movies and stuff.”
“Did you study any of my movies?” I said. I was only half teasing. Darcy snorted.
“God no. It was a little more intellectual than that. No offense.” she said.
“None taken.”
We ended up taking a detour on our way home. It was a long detour, that involved a stroll in the park and getting ice cream from a van. The ice cream man looked at me like he knew me but he as nice enough not to say anything. Darcy got chocolate and I got a double scoop of strawberry. We didn’t speak much, but the walk kept getting longer and longer. Maybe she didn’t want to be home alone with me again. Maybe she wanted to get a real look around the big city. I tried not to question it. By the time we got home the sun was setting.
We got back to the house without an issue, though I could tell the stares bothered Darcy. They bothered me at first, but now they were easy to tune out. It was the crazy fuckers with their selfie sticks that you had to watch out for. I told her this when we got to the apartment and she laughed.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, “God, aren’t people desperate? I mean, you’ve been in a few movies here and there but you’re not Rudolph Valentino. What does it matter if you sign a tit or not?”
A thought occurred to me. I don’t know why, but I couldn’t let it go.
“Will you take a picture with me?” I asked. She gave a double take.
“A picture?”
“Yeah. Maybe you can show your friends back home.” I said. Suddenly I was worried she would say no. I couldn’t understand why I wanted it so much. Something to look at, I supposed. She’d be gone soon, I knew that. She wouldn’t last. I wanted to remember her face.
Darcy looked thoughtful. Without answering me, she pulled her cell phone out of her dress pocket.
“How should we do this?” she asked. I shrugged.
“Just smile.”
I put my hand on her waist and felt her shivering against me as she took the picture. In the first we were smiling. In the second she was blushing and biting her lip. In the third I was kissing her neck. There wasn’t a fourth.
Her phone made a quiet thud as it hit the carpet.
Darcy
Nate's breath was hot against my neck and his arms wound tight around my waist. Every kiss his lips left on my skin left me burning with desire. I wanted him, no I needed him. The dress I'd spent so long choosing to impress him suddenly felt like a nuisance.
He slipped one strap down and bit my bare shoulder. His jeans grinded against me and I felt that he wanted me just as much as I wanted him.
"Fuck," I pleaded, "Just touch me. Properly."
He smirked, confident in the power her had over me.
"All in good time, princess."
His hands brushed the heat between my thighs for a tortuously short moment. He trailed his hand back up my body and grabbed my breast, causing me to cry out at his roughness. This was a world away from the awkward, cautious fumbles that my friends had described to me. Nate knew what he was doing. He could play me like an instrument and I was loving every minute of it.
His mouth met mine again and I melted into the kiss. His hand grasped my hair just tightly enough for me to feel it. Suddenly, Nate's phone went off. The ring tone was loud and piercing, almost pulling me out of the moment. Nate grunted and threw it on the carpeted floor so hard that it actually smashed.
I gasped.
"Your phone!"
Nate grinned as if five hundred plus dollars down the drain was nothing to him. Well, it was nothing to him. A small fortune to me was pocket change to the country's biggest movie star of the moment.
"Fuck it."
He lifted me off of my feet and I wrapped my legs around his waist. He was so strong, overflowing with the kind of masculine energy I didn't think existed outside of movies. His movies. Who better to create those love scenes with than the star?
"I want you Darcy." he murmured. Those four little words made the hairs stand up on the nape of my neck. He wanted me. Even if it was only for a moment, Nate McCoy wanted me. It was every woman in America's wet dream and I was living it.
We were interrupted once again by the ring of my own phone. It was laying next to Nate’s on the floor.
"I need to answer this." I said. Nate put me down.
"No you don't." he growled. I bit my lip. I just couldn't be as carefree as he was. The truth of the matter was that I gave a fuck. I couldn't afford to miss calls or to smash my phone in a moment of passion. I’d already gone too far by giving into my desire. This wasn’t me. Darcy Scott didn’t do random hookups, especially not with movie stars.
"I do."
I pressed answer at the moment that Nate's hand snaked into my panties. He was playing with me now, but I could remain cool. Guys never knew what they were doing down there anyway, no matter how big a game they talked. That’s what I’d been told over and over again.
"Hello." I said. I had to stifle a moan as Nate traced tiny circles around just the right spot. He was teasing me now and it felt so darn good.
Sheila didn't bother with the formality of a greeting. That was unnecessary. Another one of my Southern mannerisms that just didn't translate to Hollywood.
"What the fuck is going on?" she yelled, "Are you trying to ruin Nate's career?"
"Huh?" I said. My heart started hammering. Nate began to rub me now, still gently but using a little more pressure than before.
"Huh? What do you mean huh? And why isn't Nate answering his phone?" she demanded. Nate looked up from kissing my neck and grinned.
"I broke it!" he sang. "Press speaker, baby. Yeah, like that. Good girl. Hey Sheila! I broke my cell phone!"
Sheila's groan of frustration echoed through the room. Nate didn't stop rubbing. It was getting intense now. My muscles were tightening and contracting in a way they hadn't done before. Every movement of his fingers was bringing me more pleasure and it was almost impossible to stay quiet about it. I let out a tiny, breathy moan as Sheila launched into a tirade about Nate's lack of responsibility.
Nate clamped his hand over my mouth to keep me quiet. His assertion of dominance only made me wetter. Fuck. If Sheila heard a sound then I was toast.
"All right, all right. Sorry for breaking it, I'll get a new one. Well, you'll get me a new one," he said. I held the phone up for him and bit into his palm as he continued to pleasure me. My knees were quaking and I could feel myself getting closer and closer to the point of no return.
Sheila's anger didn't subside.
"You'll be lucky if you're still employing me by the end of this phone call Nate. What the fuck were you thinking? Blowing off all of your god damn commitments for what? What did you do? Did you have Darcy suck you off?" she said. There was a particular tinge of venom in the last question that made my blood boil, even though she wasn't far off the truth. Commitments? I didn't have time to consider. Nate was rubbing me faster now, faster and softer and just the right way. I was close now, so close that my body trembled and that I moaned into the skin of his hand.
"I had other plans." he said, winking at me. At that exact moment my body gave into the pleasure. For just a moment all the stress, all the tension just released itself into the most satisfying climax I had ever had. I stood there, trembling.
"Other plans? Nate, the studio is furious! You wasted so much time and money by not showing up to those interviews. Jesus H Christ, what am I paying that bimbo for? She's supposed to keep you in order. Obviously I overestimated her abilities, didn't I?" she ranted. Nate's brow furrowed.
"She's not a bimbo," his voice was cold and low, "She graduated first in her class."
Even Sheila knew she'd gone too far with that one. I hadn't expected Nate to care so much about a stupid insult. I wasn't a bimb
o and we both knew that, but it wasn't like it made a difference. I was still just another dumb girl who'd fallen for his charms. Sheila didn't take long to start backpedaling.
"All right, all right. She's not a bimbo. She's just a little too trusting," said Sheila, "Darcy, are you still there?"
"Yes." I said, trying to hide how breathless I was. God damn. It was like I'd done a full work out.
"Let me guess. Nate didn't bother to show you his schedule, right?"
"Right."
"My apologies for calling you a bimbo then. Nate, you're a fuckwit. A complete fuckwit. If you don't stick to the schedule we're gonna lose so much money!"
She went on like this for a while, Nate silently mocking her every word. Despite my anger I couldn't help but giggle. His exaggerated facial expressions were right on the money.
Eventually, after many promises of cleaning up his act and a little bit of light flirting, Sheila mellowed considerably. She agreed to pick up his new cell phone and even laughed at one of his jokes. If the charm could work on Sheila like that then it could work on anyone. It had certainly worked its magic on me, hadn't it? God damn it, I was a sucker.
Nate hung up the phone and looked at me.
"Now, where were we..." he said. I bit my lip. My orgasm had given me immense pleasure, but now I had a sudden moment of clarity. This couldn't happen. I couldn't let it happen. Not sleeping with Nate was my meal ticket.
"No," I said, "No, that's enough for now."
Nate stared at me bemusedly.
"That's enough?"
"Yeah. It was great Nate, really. But I think I'm gonna go to bed. Alone," I said. I left him standing there with his mouth hanging open. I wasn't going to play into his hands, not again.
Nate
I'd spent my whole adult life picking up women, taking them to bed (or to the floor, or a nightclub bathroom) and tossing them aside like they were nothing. Relationships were a hard limit for me. I didn't need the drama or the responsibility. Plus, being single was good for my image. It made my fan girls feel like I was attainable. I was attainable if you had a great rack. Just so long as you didn't expect me to cuddle with you after I'd had my way. Fuck, now that would be a level of kinky that I wasn't willing to touch.
Starring Me and You Page 4