The Scene Stealer: A Hollywood Romance

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The Scene Stealer: A Hollywood Romance Page 10

by Renee Harless


  “You want me, Larsen?” I ask against her mouth. “You want my cock in you?”

  “Yes. Yes I want you, Devyn,” she replies breathlessly, one of her hands reaching around to grip my backside.

  Larsen’s hand falls away as I blindly tear the condom open with my teeth and toss the wrapper onto the bed as I settle back onto my heels. The condom stretches as the latex slides down my shaft. The velvet skin beneath throbs at the touch.

  My body descends on top of hers and I kiss her gently, reminding myself that I need to make this moment as good for her as I can.

  I align my erection at her entrance, savoring her heat against the head of my cock.

  “Are you sure, Larsen?” I inquire as I use one of my hands to gently brush her hair away from her face. “There is no going back from this.”

  “I want this with you. I won’t regret it.”

  “Me either,” I whisper as I meld our mouths together along with our bodies.

  My erection eases into her tight channel and I’m almost surprised to find that she lacks an obstacle, but her loss of virginity shouldn’t bother me. Except I want to possess all of her. The anger surges knowing that someone has had her before, but I toss that feeling away as I slip into her fully. Her sheath squeezing my cock tighter than any vice. I want to stay buried in her for the rest of my life; nothing has ever felt this good before.

  I ease out and then back in, my body aching for me to move faster.

  “God, you feel good.”

  “Faster, Devyn. Please,” she moans with an aching tremble in her voice.

  Like a genie rubbed free from my lamp, her wish is my command.

  My hips start to thrust hastily, chasing down both of our releases. The feeling of her nails on my back leaves me wishing that she leaves her mark, makes me bleed with her passion.

  Sweat drips from my body onto her chest as I pound into her, my hair now a sopping mess as I place my hand behind her knee and lift one of her legs, bringing it toward her chest.

  Larsen tears her hands away from my back to grip the covers at her side. Her cries of pleasure growing hoarser with each plea. “Oh, God.”

  “I want to see you,” I tell her as I quickly flip us around and switch positions.

  So lost in pleasure she either forgets or chooses to ignore that I have a full view of her scars as she settles on top of my body. Her body glows from the streetlamp shining through the window, its light the only illumination in the room basking it in a romantic radiance.

  As she bounces up and down on my cock, I watch in rapt fascination as her breasts sway from side to side, her hair bouncing along with her motions, the long strands skimming the tops of my knees. She looks like a siren pulling me toward her with a sultry and hypnotic song.

  Larsen is lost in ecstasy, and as she leans forward, I capture one of those supple breasts in my mouth, suckling on the sweetness while reaching up to hold her hips in place. I jackhammer my erection into her sex until I hear her scream in release, the cry echoing through the entire room, vibrating off the walls. That’s when I finally let go.

  Spent, Larsen collapses on top of my body and I capture her weight in my arms.

  “That was. . .” I begin and stare off into space for the words I’m searching for.

  She can barely speak but she tries to finish my sentence. “Exactly what I wanted.” But I shake my head.

  Rolling us to the side, I face Larsen and tuck away her sweat-covered hair behind her head.

  “Perfect. It was perfect.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT – LARSEN

  Devyn’s fingers have been trailing up and down my arm for the last half-hour, following my scars as if they’re a treasure map and he’s determined to find the prize. I’ve known the question was coming, and I could have covered myself up, silently ending any further conversation, but I’m not afraid to share my story with him. For the first time, I actually want someone else besides Uncle Jeff to know what I’ve endured.

  Opening my mouth, I beat him to the punch as his hand settles on my mangled hip. “I was trapped in a car after a collision. The tangled metal of the car had pierced my skin all over. Slicing me like a knife.” His hand tightens on my body, gripping the place where my hipbone settles under the skin. But his eyes are torn away from my body and are solely focused on my face.

  “I was in the car with my mom. After my dad died, she was determined that she was going to make it as a showgirl in Vegas. At least I think that’s what she told me. We stopped in a few towns and Mom had met some people, my guess is they were looking for someone to pass drugs over state lines. She took the money and drugs and told me we were taking a scenic route to our next stop.

  “As we were passing through Pueblo, Colorado, our car got T-boned on my side. Mom got out without a scratch, but because of the drugs in the trunk, I needed to hold two moving boxes on my lap. I wore a seatbelt, but I had no way to escape.

  “I’m not sure how long I was in the car before I started to smell gasoline, and then in the blink of an eye the car was engulfed in flames. I was lucky that the fire department arrived quickly, but at that point, most of the right side of my body had third-degree burns running from top to bottom.

  “I don’t need to go into detail about all of the surgeries I underwent, but those doctors and nurses saved my life. When I came to, I asked for my mother and one of the volunteers had the lucky draw to tell me that my mom couldn’t be located, but that they were still looking. I already knew that she wasn’t coming back for me.

  “I had already lost my dad, but that day I lost my mom and my freedom. I was in the hospital for months as I healed. When I was discharged, I had nowhere to go and at sixteen, I was considered old enough to go out on my own.

  “But Susan found me that day in the hospital and she and Uncle Jeff took me in. Fate brought her to me. The whole town took me in. I’d be lost without them. They dropped everything to take me to therapy every day until I was able to do it on my own.”

  I tell him the sordid details without looking away. I anticipate the shock, the disgust, but not the pride. Not the respect that shines back at me. Silently he bends forward and kisses me. It’s nothing like our kisses from earlier, it’s a kiss of gratitude.

  It doesn’t last long, just a few brushes of his lips and tongue. Pulling away, his attention goes back to the creases and folds of my skin. He gently runs his hands over the puckers with a look of awe.

  “Do they hurt?”

  “Some are extremely painful due to the scar tissue. With others, I have no feeling whatsoever.”

  His hand pauses just above the deepest scars along my upper thigh. “Does it hurt for me to do this?”

  Shaking my head, I tell him, “No, I love your touch.”

  “Thank you for telling me.”

  “I don’t need to hide from you,” I say sincerely.

  Devyn continues his journey to the tips of my feet and I hate to tell him that I have minimal feeling left on the tips of my toes as he tries to tickle me. Giving up, he grabs the blanket at the edge of the bed and drapes it over our bodies as he settles next to me again.

  “That first night together when we sat on that little stairwell you asked me what I was running from,” he whispers, his hoarse voice cascading over my body. I nod in recognition. “It isn’t so much of a what, as it is a who.

  “See, I was emancipated from my parents as a teenager when they continued to overschedule me on projects and then fired my manager without my consent. I was an overworked kid with no end in sight. Later my uncle learned that they had stolen almost every cent I had made.

  “I remember my uncle, aunt, and Tessa had traveled all the way to LA to confront my parents. We were living in a huge mansion that my work was paying for and my uncle had had it. See, he knew that they had no jobs; they were living off all of the money I was earning. I must have been ten or eleven, but I can remember the shouting and screaming. My uncle and aunt fought with everything they had to get control over my finances.<
br />
  “It took years, but he helped me remove them legally and he became my guardian and financial advisor. But by that time, I was already knee-deep in drugs. After he forced me to go to rehab to gain access to my funds, I turned to alcohol and women. Tessa is supposed to help keep me on track for this upcoming project.

  “But then we got word that my parents are violating our legal agreement and they’re trying to gain access to everything again. They think that they’ll be able to convince me in person to give them something or make a change to the agreement. Somehow, they got wind of this new project before it was announced to the media, but we should have seen it coming. So, when Tessa told me that they had been seeking me out, I turned into that hurt kid that just wanted his parents to love him and spend time with him but instead was pushed and pushed just for money.”

  “Can they do that? I mean, can they get everything overturned?”

  “I don’t really know. My uncle and aunt, who is a lawyer, are trying their best to fix it and keep it out of the press. I need to stay focused on this new movie.”

  “Do you have any good memories with your parents?”

  “Not really. Nothing worth letting them back into my life. I don’t need a piece of paper to tell me we are estranged.”

  “I’m sorry, Devyn.”

  “I’m sorry for what you’ve gone through too, Larsen,” he echoes as he tucks my head under his chin, bringing our bodies as close as physically possible.

  “We make a great pair, don’t we?” I whisper.

  His answering chuckle vibrates across my entire body. “Yeah, the movie star and the waitress. Seems a bit cliché, don’t you think?”

  I giggle along with him, and as his arm reaches around me and tries to pull me even closer, I slip my leg between his. I try to fight against falling asleep, knowing that our time is running out, but I lose the battle and slumber overtakes me.

  I can feel him slipping away before the bed even moves. The sheets rustle sounding as loud as a Mack truck against my ear, but I make no move to open my eyes. I know what’s coming, and even though I thought I was ready, I’m not. How can two days together feel more like two years? How can someone possibly feel this way about a stranger so quickly?

  He must be tugging on his pants and the shoes that we left on the bedroom floor last night because the bed jostles as he rolls off. A minute or so later I hear the toilet flush in the attached bathroom and I know the time has come.

  I pry my eyes open, the crust of old tears pulling at my lashes.

  “Hey,” he whispers as he moves to my side of the bed and crouches down, his chin resting on his crossed arms lying on top of the duvet.

  “Hey.”

  “I need to go. Tessa just texted.”

  “Okay,” I choke out.

  One of his hands reaches out and he tucks my hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering for a moment before pulling away.

  “I’m going to miss you. I wish that you had a cell phone so I could text you. I can try to call your landline. I’ll dial my phone from it so I can grab the number and write mine down for you.”

  “I’m going to miss you too, but it’s better this way. You’re going to move on to much bigger and better things. I want the best for you, Devyn.”

  “And you’re going to be an amazing nurse. I have faith in you.”

  “Thanks.” The edges of my lips tilt up in a smile.

  We both stare at each other wanting to say more but knowing that we can’t. We were just supposed to be friends for the weekend, two people with nothing in common. Instead, we formed a relationship from the shards of our broken hearts.

  We both startle as his phone buzzes in his pocket and the edge of the bed bends as Devyn reaches down and silences the device.

  Leaning forward, I press my lips to his forehead. I don’t want our last real kiss to be one out of sadness. “Take care of yourself, Devyn.”

  There isn’t anything more to say, and as he stands and leaves the bedroom, I don’t turn to face his retreat. Instead, I stare out the window and watch the sun slowly rise over the horizon.

  Time slips by and I’m unsure how much of it has passed. I work the lunch and dinner shift today so I have no need to get up early. I suppose I should feel some sort of grief at Devyn’s departure. And considering I’ll never again have another chance at meeting a celebrity I most certainly should feel something other than the numbness surrounding me.

  But as I get ready for my shift, I stare at myself in the mirror over my dresser. I expect to look different, to look morphed from my time with him, but I still look the same as I always have. My eyes are the same shade of brown, hair same tone of blonde, the scar still ugly and jagged, but there is a new look in my eyes, a glimmer of something that takes me a while to recognize – determination. My time with Devyn has shown me how much of my life I was letting slip away.

  Just as I close the door to my apartment, I hear my phone ring. I pause for a second, debating internally if I should answer the call or let it continue to ring. My heart wins.

  I do my best to push my key into the lock, but the piece of metal doesn’t want to cooperate in my haste to get inside. Finally, the key slides into the contraption just as the ringing stops. My chest heaves knowing that I’ve missed his call, my damn heart hurting all over again.

  My gaze falls on the scrap of paper with his number scrawled in blue ink. Without a second glance, I dial the numbers and wait for the ringing tone, except I’m met with the immediate answer of a generic voicemail message telling me that Devyn’s mailbox is full.

  I close my eyes as I place the phone back on the receiver resolving myself to try again later. At least I can say that we both tried and that surprisingly gives me a little more pep in my step.

  As I walk toward the diner, I keep my head held high, a far removal from the slouched appearance of my normal stance.

  Inside, I stroll over to Uncle Jeff sitting in his booth and lean forward to hug him, then do the same to Joanne as she walks by. I can see them silently ask how I am doing since Devyn left, but I just smile and get to work.

  Tacker is a no-show, and I’m not surprised, he’s been showing up less and less. I need to talk to Uncle Jeff about hiring another cook.

  Cole and a few of his colleagues walk in just before the dinner crowd and they take a seat at one of the booths. But he surprises me when he comes up to me and calls my name.

  “Larsen, my friends and I are going hiking this weekend. You want to come along?”

  My normal answer would be a silent shake of my head, a denial to his request. But I surprise both myself and him when I smile. “Yeah, that sounds fun.”

  One small step has never felt so glorious before.

  ~

  The days pass, one into the next. Diner. Auto shop. Books. Stocking the convenience store. Everything is a blur of the same routine. Devyn’s car was fixed and shipped back to his home in Los Angeles. All is how it was before he arrived as if he was never here at all.

  We play a series of phone tag. I was only able to catch him once before he was needed on set. That few second conversation felt like another goodbye instead of a glimmer of hope of what we could be.

  Uncle Jeff hires another cook from the town over and she seems to be a good fit for the diner. Her daughter also comes along and helps serve, opening more free hours of studying for me. I also think the older woman may be what helps fix my uncle’s heart. I saw some interest in his eyes when she came in after we posted the Hiring sign on Monday. Maybe she can be the thing that heals both of us.

  Tomorrow is my big hiking trip with Cole and his friends, and while I’m excited to spend some time away from work with people my own age, I know that it won’t make up for my missing Devyn. I haven’t slept much this week, my dreams inundated continuously with memories of him or scenarios where we were still together. Our constant missing of calls making the longing even worse.

  “Are you headed out?” Joanne asks as I drape my apron on the hook
and grab my bag.

  “Yeah, I have an online test tonight and I want to get some more studying in.”

  “You look tired, hun. Maybe try to get a nap in?” I brush off her concern and tell her that I’m fine. I know that they’ve all been walking on eggshells around me, especially since I seem to be more comfortable in my skin around everyone. It’s as if they don’t know how to act around a more self-assured me.

  “Oh, and I have the beef stroganoff going for the dinner special.”

  Joanne shakes her head with a chuckle. “Mr. Turner’s request?”

  “You know it.”

  I stalk toward the rarely used back door. If I go through the front, one or more people will invariably ask me questions about Devyn.

  “Hey, Larsen,” Joanne calls out as Karen, the new cook, comes into the kitchen smiling warmly. “It’s okay to have fun tomorrow, it’s okay to move on. Because he’s not coming back, hun. And I don’t mean that to sound cruel, but maybe just as a reality check.”

  It’s not said in malice or to hurt me, it’s said like a friend trying to help me maneuver through this situation, through the hurt.

  Taking a deep breath, my shoulders relax and I look over at her, my wounds exposed.

  “I know, Joanne. I got more than I ever expected from him. I mean, when he first arrived, I didn’t even like him. I know he isn’t coming back. And Cole is great, we’ll have fun.”

  “Okay, just know sometimes you have to let go to move forward. And stop by whenever you want for some Ben and Jerry’s. I want to hear all about being with a celebrity.”

  Smiling, I nod and slip out the door, trying not to dwell on her advice. Or whatever it is that she is trying to say.

  When I arrive at my apartment, I grab the mail and the large box of items I ordered online. Cole mentioned that we were going to hike the river trail outside of Pueblo tomorrow and besides my typical jeans and T-shirts I don’t have anything for outdoor activity. I could wear my workout clothes, but most of those are old ratty sweats.

 

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