by Pamela Ann
“I take it that the Hot Cheetos are yours?” I smirked as I sat next to him, legs crisscrossed as I cuddled under a soft down comforter.
“I am more than willing to share them with you, my beautiful miss.” Bass beamed as he took out a remote and with one click, the lights shut off and the large screen before us came to life.
I took a lengthy sip of my wine when he gathered me close and I rested my head on his chest. It was definitely comfortable, I mused.
When the movie rolled on, I was so engrossed by the star-crossed lovers that I felt gutted along with Tristan. What fated luck! To love someone the way he loved Isolde and to watch his beloved marry someone else. What luck indeed!
By the time the movie ended, I was crying and out of sorts. I felt Bass tighten his hold on me as he lightly chuckled, his chest vibrating. “Oh, baby, you are the most adorable thing!” I just bet. I lightly punched him, but he kept on laughing at me. “You know, had it been another girl with me in here, they would’ve been busy feeling me up, trying to seduce me to get me into bed, but you—you don’t care much about me at all. You were stuck to the movie. I don’t know if I should be happy or insulted with that. You seem to have a knack for not making me feel so special and it’s invigorating.”
I suddenly looked at Bass and wondered out loud, “Do you wonder what it would be like to kiss me? Because I am dying to know what it’s like to have your lips on mine, Bass.”
His jovial demeanor vanished and changed to that ever so popular smoldering look of his. And boy, it was deadly… that look alone captivated me. “I have been meaning to, wanting to since the night I met you. Why do you ask, Emma? Are you ready to move on? Are you ready for me?” What a heavy loaded question… didn’t he do anything in small measures?
“You know I’m not, Bass, but what’s wrong with kissing? It’s only a kiss. I’m sure you’ve kissed hundreds of women without much thought. Why can’t you do the same with me?” I countered.
“That’s the difference, my darling Emma. A kiss with you will never be considered ‘one of many’ and never ordinary. I can’t explain it without sounding irrational, but I can’t shake this intensity that’s taken hold of me. I’m fixated by you, for reasons I cannot fathom or distinguish, for that matter. It’s disconcerting and demoralizing to my psyche.”
My sentiments exactly.
I gathered him in my arms and hugged him because he just looked like he needed it. He was so deep in thought and so bothered as he spouted the words out. He really was beyond confused. I would have been, too, if I was freaking Bass Cole and could have any woman I wanted. And yet, here he was, fixated on me; a woman who loved another man. Didn’t make sense, did it?
“This totally sucks, BC,” I murmured against his chest.
“Totally… anyhow, feel like going for a night swim?” Bass asked me huskily.
“I don’t have my swimsuit with me, genius!”
He gave me a devilish smile. “Who said anything about clothing?” Bass continued, his question loaded with innuendo. He then cocked his eyebrow at me.
Hmmm, swimming naked in the moonlight? Bass’s hot body for all my senses to devour?
Sounds…perfect.
“Are you trying to get a peek at my goods, Mr. Cole?”
He opened his mouth to respond, but closed it. “You know what, that’s not a great idea after all. You naked and wet will seriously kill any restraint I have.”
“Oo, Bass Cole, unbridled and impetuous. I am curious and rather provoked.”
“You’re my sweet torture do you know that, Emma? Put your imagination to rest because I think we should try to sleep.” He got up and made three of the seats lean backwards until it made some sort of bed.
Wow, super neat.
“So, we’re sleeping here, I take it? Why not in your bed, huh?”
He jumped on our makeshift bed and gathered me in his arms. “The only time you will share my bed is when you’re willing to give me what I’m after. Until then, we stay away from it.”
Odd, but I understood.
“Are you always like this with women, Bass?”
“Always like what?”
“This difficult. I mean, how do you even manage to get laid if you don’t want women in your bed?”
“I get women in bed just fine, Emma. The big difference is my bed. I go to hotels if I need to fuck. It’s cleaner that way, faster to get away.”
HAH.
“Wham-bam thank you ma’am? Hm, I knew the playboy side of you was in there somewhere. For a second, I thought you were lost.” I smirked.
“I love women, Emma. What can I say? I love every fucking thing about a woman. That’s why I can’t figure out why I’m so fixated on you. You’re beautiful, don’t get me wrong, but there are tons of beautiful women around me and I want to fuck them when the opportunity arises, but with you, it’s not as easy. I want to fuck you, but I can’t seem to even manage to kiss you. Isn’t that the most absurd thing you’ve ever heard?”
“That is kind of weird,” I mumbled. “This might sound weird, but how old are you?”
“I am twenty-three. Why, how old are you, Miss Emma?” His brows wiggled in question.
“I am a woman of twenty.” For such a young age, he was quite accomplished.
I was honestly a tad jealous about that. I guess my indecisiveness about what I wanted to do about my future took a toll on my self-esteem. I hated how other people knew what they wanted to do when they grew up. The only thing I knew growing up was that I didn’t want to be a doctor. Period. Apart from that, I was so lost and admitting it didn’t make me happy at all.
Bass stroked my hair. “Hey, I didn’t know my age would make you look so sad,” he tried to joke. “What’s wrong?”
Shrugging, I sat up, opposite of his laid-out, relaxed position—looking like a sexy Abercrombie model. “It just dawned on me how jealous I am of you. I mean, in the sense that you seem to know what you want in life. I, on the other hand, have no fucking clue what my future holds.” Biting my bottom lip, I continued, “Do you think that’s pathetic? I’m twenty-years-old; aren’t I supposed to have had an epiphany by now or something?”
“What did you love doing when you were younger? The only thing that helped you escape your reality and feel that you’d found solace and happiness in it and through it?”
That’s easy to answer. “Reading and I loved my drama classes in high school.”
“So, there’s your answer. Pursue a career that has to do with reading or drama. Why wait and ponder like a lost puppy?”
“It’s not that easy, Bass! Not everyone has freaking connections like you do!”
He looked offended. “Hey! I know I have good connections in the industry now, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t have to work hard for it. Do you think I didn’t have to work from the ground up? I had to start somewhere and had to build up my acting credibility by taking odd jobs here and there; like getting paid minimum wage to be an extra in an Indie movie wearing a hotdog suit for twelve hours or being ridiculed for being an amateur from hotshot directors and well accomplished actors.
“But you know what, Em? I took it in stride and brushed it off. As much as I hated it, I knew where it would lead me. All that hard work paid off in the long run. I didn’t give up because it was what I wanted to do. Passion is the fire that drives us to do the things we do. The reason we do the things we do. So, if your passion is reading and acting, then there it is. Go write or act without hesitation. Put your foot forward and give up your soul to your passion. It makes life worthwhile when you give your heart and soul to the things that are gratifying and priceless to you.”
So much depth and profound meaning…
“Gee, that was something. Thank you, though; I might just do that. Write or act, I mean. I’ll think it over.”
“You should because life is meaningless if you live it half and half. Being whole should be your sole goal and ambition.”
Half and half, is that what I’m doing?
Weeding through my life… half and half?
“So… you feel whole then?”
“Career wise, yes, but personally, I am getting there. One can’t have everything in life at the same time, but I am a patient man and I will figure it out sooner or later.”
He was confident and knew what he wanted…
“For such a young man, you seem to have it figured out.”
“I had to. My parents were almost never there for me so I had to figure shit out on my own, you know?”
“Oh, that must have been hard. Growing up in itself is hard, but having to figure out everything on your own must have been challenging.”
Bass boyishly grinned at me. “I like that.”
Dumbfounded, I asked, “Like what?”
“That you didn’t say ‘sorry’ about my parents being absent. Most people do when I tell them.” His hands pulled me down next to him.
We were lying down, face to face and I watched his azure eyes sparkle. “I really like you, Emma,” he declared.
Oh, man. He was going in for the kill, yet again.
“I really like you, too, Bass. I really do, but I’m not ready for anything more.”
His eyes searched mine, without blinking. “Because you’re in love with the man from the apartment right?”
An angry man to be precise.
“Yes,” I whispered back to him.
“Why are you in love with him? What makes him special?” His gaze still probed, seeking answers.
Fuck, what do I say to that?
I’ve asked myself that before and couldn’t seem to find one good reason. Sure, Carter was dynamite in bed, but apart from that, what? He was sweet—from time to time—which wasn’t a consistent trait. So, what then? His rock-hard body and asshole attitude? We didn’t really talk much about anything in depth. For reasons I couldn’t fathom, though, I did love him.
When he got hurt once during a soccer game against UCLA, he blacked-out for a good minute and I thought of never being with him again. I knew then that I loved him, much to my dismay.
There was a lot of truth about what people said about falling in love with the wrong person. Your brain might have told you it was a horrible idea, but your heart ruled everything. It just did, plain and simple.
“I can’t explain how or why I do, I just do. I remember that it just dawned on me one night. It’s been hell ever since.”
“You don’t seem very happy about it,” this wise man observed.
“No, I’m not. He’s not an easy man.”
Hell no, Carter Mason was not easy! He was a walking contradiction, for reasons about which I had no clue.
“I understand.” He sighed and closed his eyes.
“Bass, let’s go for a swim? I feel restless.”
“Seriously? It’s like three in the morning, Em.” I got up and left the movie theatre.
“Last one there has a sore, hairy butt crack!” I yelled after him.
~E~
“Whoa, there!” Bass uttered as he saw me wiggle out of his boxers and hastily place them on the pool lounge.
The moon was high and the City of Angels glittered before me; thriving, alive and so full of life! It really was beautiful here, especially at night. It looked downright riveting. The huge swimming pool looked too enticing to resist. The color matched Bass’s azure eyes.
What was he waiting for anyway? The known bad boy was hesitant.
“What’s wrong, Bass? Admitting that you have a sore, hairy butt crack?” I teased, but he was too stunned to reply. His blue gaze stuck to my skimpy thong-clad bottom. A jolt of excitement coursed through me as Bass took me in with his eyes. It was intoxicating and it made me feel beautiful. “Hello, earth to Bass Cole?” I waved both hands at him.
Bass cleared his throat. “I don’t think this is a good idea, Emma.”
Yeah, right. I’m only young once and I want to live and let live. Who cared if I had my heart broken? Who cared if Carter didn’t love me? At least I was alive—alive and breathing and enjoying Bass Cole’s arousing countenance. I am grateful for life’s good blessings, I thought mischievously.
“Why not? It’s not like this is the first time you’ve swam naked. In fact, it was your suggestion to skinny dip, if I recall correctly.” I pouted at him.
Seriously, Bass looked like the epitome of a sex god. The way he would brood when he was in deep thought or the way he held his hands on his hips when he didn’t agree on something. Every single move he made just oozed of sex. Bass was potent with masculinity and I found it erotic and stimulating. According to most females, they felt this way about him, too. Furthermore, all that fame and power didn’t seem to get into his head. He was quite grounded and not stuck up, surprisingly enough.
I didn’t know what precisely triggered my audacious attitude, but I felt like I had some kind of clarity. Maybe it was the tiny stint of acting in Martin Lombardo’s home or the talk I had with Bass or quite possibly the wine talking, but it didn’t matter because I felt fan-fucking-tastic!
“Beauty is only skin deep. If you go after someone just because she’s beautiful but don’t have anything to talk about, it’s going to get boring fast. You want to look beyond the surface and see if you can have fun or if you have anything in common with this person.”
~Amanda Peet
Chapter Thirteen
“Emma, I’m telling you again, this is not the wisest of ideas,” Bass croaked out.
I merely shrugged as I pulled the hem of my shirt, lifting it upwards and off.
I turned around to face Bass. “Ready to swim?”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Emma Anderson,” Bass taunted me as he placed a bottle of vodka and his phone at the edge of the pool. I just gave him a seductive smile.
Without breaking eye contact, he took off his clothes—all of them. What was a skinny dip if one didn’t take it all off?
I gasped as Bass pulled down his boxers and stepped out of them.
“Is it up to your approval, my darling?” he amorously asked me. Cocky.
I couldn’t help but lick my lips and I tried to drag my eyes away from his...
He actually laughed at my embarrassment before diving into the pool. I watched him swim a few laps before he came up for air. I made sure to stay in the deep end, choosing distance. We were on opposite ends of the pool.
“Scared of me already?” he called out as his hands leisurely skimmed through the warm water.
“Hell no; should I be?” I asked. He was daring me to come closer, so I did.
I watch his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he guzzled the bottle of Vodka. “You’re not going to share that? What a greedy man you are, Bass,” I teased and then settled myself right next to him, our arms touching.
“I’ll share whatever you want me to share, little lady,” he retorted back as he handed me the bottle of vodka, eyes zeroed in on my lips as I placed the bottle opening to them, threw my head back and took a quick gulp.
I couldn’t help but shiver. “Argh!” I muttered as I placed the bottle back on the white cobbled floor, next to his phone. “Bass, are you nervous?” I leaned close to him. Wanting him to kiss me, touch me, something!
Without answering me, he went under water and swam away from me. When he came up for air, he swam towards the middle side of the pool and stared out at the city.
I couldn’t help following him. He let out a soft moan when I pressed a kiss to his shoulder. He grabbed my waist and drew me into him, pressing my back against the pool wall.
Face to face, we stared at each other, both hearts on a wild stampede. With the searing power of his eyes, he caressed me—slowly, decisively and acutely.
Then, he said the sweetest thing.
“Exquisite, so lush and pure
Will you taste as sweet as I have dreamt you to be?
I’m staggered by your magnetism, your beauty and your truth—
Will I captivate you as you have done me?
Sweet Emma, your name alone,
spoken from my lips gives me enough sweetness
Savored and cherished as one should be.”
He buried his head in my neck and softly bit it. I moaned and threw my head back, exposing my neck to give him full access to it.
“Bass,” I gasped out his name.
From the base of my throat, his hot tongue snaked out and licked my wet skin all the way to my chin. His hand found my nipple and he placed it between his thumb and finger, twisting it back and forth as he sucked on my neck and bit into it as my legs locked on his hips.
“I want… Bass… your lips… kiss me,” I pleaded, breathless. MY hips grinded against him and my scantily covered, hot mound rubbed against his naked cock. He panted against my neck and I became determined with my grinding.
I felt the hazy lust-filled moment that blanketed us; leave him when we heard his phone ring. Bass cursed. Kissing my forehead, he unlatched my legs from his waist and swam towards his ringing phone. I heard him say, “This better be important, Papa.”
Bass pulled himself out of the pool and walked out of earshot. I drug myself out of the pool and laid in one of the lounge chairs, awaiting his return.
“Emma?” I heard Bass call out.
“Yes?”
Strolling towards me, Bass sat on the edge of the lounger. “That was Martin. He’s wondering if you’re interested in replacing Samantha in the film.”
I sat up. “Shut up!”
Bass shrugged and smiled. “If you say so.”
My mouth hung open. “Martin wants me? But I fucking suck compared to other actresses. I’m an amateur, what could I possibly offer?” “Chemistry, he said we crackled with it.” He reached out and stroked my calf. “Martin is known for picking out fresh faces and he has an eye for making a hit. He thinks you and I will be a hit. That alone proves how much he wants you to be onboard. Will you do it, Em? Filming doesn’t start until summer time anyway.”
“Bass, are you crazy? Of course, I want to do it! It’s a fucking Martin Lombardo film. I am not dense; I recognize that this is a once in a lifetime opportunity, but what I’m worried about is… I don’t want to disappoint any of you guys. This is major for me. I’m psyched and freaked out at the same time.”