by Ava Cummings
“Oh my God. There’s Bradley Cruz, sitting over there with a huge entourage.”
Alec leans in and whispers, “You just turned a very dark shade of crimson, Miss Anna Starr.”
“I think he was watching us,” I say.
“Maybe so.”
“You’re naughty; do you know that?” I ask.
“I’m not the only one,” he teases.
I glance back over at Bradley’s table. I need to see who’s with him. My reporter’s hat is on. This could be an item for Celeb. I see one of the girls with Bradley get up from the table and head for the bathroom.
“I’ve got to run to the ladies’ room. I’ll be right back.” My mind buzzes with the familiar mix of nerves and excitement that comes when I’m on a tip.
I hop up and head to the back of the restaurant, stealing another look at Bradley and his table along the way. He’s just as gorgeous in the flesh, without lighting or wardrobe, wearing jeans and a white T-shirt.
While I’m washing my hands, Bradley’s mystery woman comes out of the stall. I make small talk.
“Amazing place, isn’t it?” I say, trying to strike up easy conversation.
She looks up quickly and nods.
“Been here before?”
“Uh-uh, you?”
“Virgin, too—and, oh, what a night.”
We both look at each other in the mirror and laugh.
“You can say that again.”
“So, how do you know Bradley Cruz? I couldn’t help but notice your table as I walked to the bathroom. Don’t think I’m crazy…just a fan.”
She hesitates, so I double down with niceness.
“Sorry for the forwardness; maybe I had one too many sakes. Here on a date with a guy I really like, and we had a few, maybe a few too many.” My hands shake in nervousness.
Her expression relaxes. “I’m the PA on the set of his new movie. We’re shooting over in Red Hook. We just worked an eighteen-hour day, and we’re exhausted and so sick of craft food services. Brad offered to take us all out. I guess this is his favorite place.”
“That’s so sweet.” God, that is so sweet. I must’ve had a genuine look of surprise on my face, because she kept talking.
“He’s actually really cool. Not like so many actors on other sets, where the crew isn’t allowed to make eye contact with the lead or even address him at all.”
We never get to do nice stories about the stars. I could actually do a story that would make someone happy, instead of tearing them apart and taking them down. Maybe, in a small way, it can make up for the other pieces we do.
“What did he have?” If I can get this out of her, I’ll have enough for an item for the news section.
She gives me a delightful grin. “We all had the omakase. Chef Nobu brought out some crazy sushi that even Brad had never had.”
I look over and raise my eyebrows in surprise, trying to play it cool, while I dry my hands.
“I’m not that adventurous, but he had sea urchin and, I think, abalone.”
“Sounds unbelievable. Hey…have a great night. Nice to meet you—and nice knowing some stars are real people,” I say, flashing an honest smile, feeling good that I got something sweet to report in tomorrow.
As I steal glances at Bradley on the way back to the table, I see Alec once again pull a wad of cash out of his wallet to pay for the meal. I would have expected him to pull out an Amex black card or something, but I don’t think twice about it.
Outside, it’s raining lightly. Before we jump into his town car, Alec stops abruptly on the sidewalk. He turns to me, lays a hand on either side of my face, looks into my eyes with an all-consuming gaze, and kisses me fiercely. Still simmering from his moves in the restaurant, my body responds instantly, and suddenly we’re passionately exploring each other’s mouths. His lips push against mine, his tongue fully inside me, wildly dancing with mine and delving into every corner of my mouth.
He commands so strongly with his body and his eyes, I find myself succumbing to his needs and wants without thinking. In the sway of his power, under his gaze, I don’t think. My body takes over, and I let go and just do. I do what Alec wants. It’s an unfamiliar feeling. His desire is wild, untamed. He comes at me so raw with need. It’s scary, yet exhilarating. Maybe this is what love is supposed to feel like.
“Oh, Anna,” he moans. “I want more of you.”
It sends us both over the top. He wraps his arms around my body and holds me close to him. I feel every inch of him against me, as the rain, harder now, pelts down, and our drenched clothes bind us together like glue.
The warm early-September rain feels so sensuous, like an outdoor shower. I could stay here forever, just like this. People walk by and stare, whispering hushed comments, as we intimately share ourselves with each other in the middle of the sidewalk, without a thought for appearances.
Being intimate under the gaze of others has touched something deep inside me. Raised to behave properly and never to make a spectacle of myself, being watched feels not only liberating but empowering, thrilling. I’m breaking free from rules and limits—ones that I set for myself for no real reason.
Alec reaches down, places both of his hands on my butt, and starts to feel me, as we’re furiously making out. He cups each side from underneath with his hands and gently massages. It’s so sensual, ramping up my arousal. I respond and put my hands on his backside. It’s sculpted and hard, and reflexively he starts to grind into me. We’re bound so tightly now, almost as one, as the rain pours down on us.
“Acch,” I say, suddenly breaking our steaming embrace.
“What?”
“I just got a raindrop in my ear,” I say, smiling, as my hearing becomes muffled on one side.
“Shake your head,” he says, laughing.
I obey and turn my head to the side and begin to shake it. The water clears out and I nod my head.
The passion dissipates for now. He grabs my hand and we slide, slippery and wet, into the back of his town car. I fall into his arms in the back seat.
“I want to take you for a drink. But I have to stop by my office first. I’m in the middle of running a financial model and need to make sure it’s rendering—big meeting in the morning. Do you mind stopping by for just a minute with me?”
“No, that’s fine,” I say, even though it’s after 11:30 p.m.
“Hello, Mr. Conrad.”
Alec nods to the security guard in the lobby as he grabs my hand and leads me through to the elevator.
We get out on the eighteenth floor of the skyscraper, and it’s pitch black except for a few dim security lights. Endless carpeted hallways wind around corner after corner, opening into islands of empty cubicles and walls of deserted offices.
Reading my mind, Alec takes my hand again and leads me down one of the halls to his office. It’s a large executive space with a vast mahogany desk and a wingback chair. There are three monitors on the desk, each with numerous columns of market data and activity scrolling across their screens.
“One screen just wasn’t enough, huh?”
“Nope,” he smiles. “More is better. Always.”
“It’s the Wall Street credo,” I say, as I wander around the space. Behind his desk, a wall of windows faces the inside of the building, looking into an inner courtyard. As I lean over and peer through, I can see into the other offices that line this courtyard. I run my hand over his bookshelf, looking at the spines of his books, all of which are on finance and the art of number crunching.
Suddenly, Alec comes up behind me, whips me around, and pushes me into his high-back desk chair.
“I’ve been wanting this all night,” he says as he drops to his knees, spreads my legs, and pulls himself to me while he slips his arms around my backside and slides me up in the chair.
The passion that’s been simmering between us since Nobu explodes. He grabs my bottom lip with his teeth and bites down. It stings but sends me flying.
He furiously releases me from my
shirt and throws it to the floor. Attacking my neck with his mouth, he kisses me harshly, moaning and biting. He lands his mouth on the side of my neck, sucking and nibbling the skin with intense fervor. I close my eyes and lean my head back, giving the soft flesh to him. I desperately want to satisfy him. I hope I’m enough for him.
“Oh, Alec,” I say, as I lean back in the chair and arch my back, giving him my body.
A moan escapes from his mouth as he kisses and nips at my ear, my chin, my lips.
He releases both of my breasts from my bra, taking one in each hand, caressing and getting to know each one, moving them in sensual circles. When he can stand it no longer, he puts his mouth on my left breast and begins to suck the nipple, playing and teasing it with his tongue until it’s taut and ready, while his right hand continues to play with the other breast. I flush with heat from his unchained wildness. His savage need is primitive, feral.
He bites down on my nipple, a little bit hard.
“Alec!” I shout, surprised but undeniably excited.
“I wasn’t too rough, now, was I?” he asks, pulling back and looking up at me for a moment.
“They’re very sensitive, and they’re not used to this kind of treatment.”
He dives back in, sucking each nipple until it’s uncomfortably raw, going back and forth between them, adding gentle bites.
I look up and notice that his office door is halfway open.
“Anyone here?” I ask, feeling nervous yet charged at this new thrill—the possibility of being caught.
He pulls up, pausing.
“The rest of the team is at Cipriani, celebrating the deal we just closed.”
I’ve never done this kind of thing in an office. It’s wild and erotic. I think we could be visible through the window to anyone in the offices across the courtyard. I feel my body lighting up inside.
Alec grabs my jeans and adroitly slides them off as he unhooks my bra. He grabs me from the desk chair and pulls me to the floor in front of his desk, even closer to the door. He lays me down, spreads my legs, moves my arms above my head, and climbs on top of me, pinning both my arms with one hand. He’s still fully clothed, and I feel his erection pulsating through his pants, as he moves on top of me.
He releases my hands, but I leave them above my head, reveling in the submission. With him fully clothed and me almost naked, I feel exposed and at his mercy—powerless, under his unbroken spell. I find myself filled with a desire to satisfy him, tame his needs. He begins to slowly work his way down, lingering over breasts and nipples, biting and sucking them almost savagely. It’s pleasure and pain together, driving me higher and higher.
He kisses my stomach and playfully bites as he moves down to my thighs. He nestles his head and takes a deep breath.
“Anna, your body. It’s like a goddess’s,” he says, caressing each thigh with his mouth, setting my nerves aflame. He slowly works his way up, closer and closer. He starts kissing me over my panties with a fury, his tongue licking the lace, wanting in. The feeling of the moist fabric makes me writhe up and down, as I push my cleft further into his mouth.
Alec pulls my panties off and takes me fully into his mouth, sucking and licking. His roughness, and the thrill of being strewn naked on his office floor, stokes my desire even more. I start breathing deeply, feeling the tension build.
His tongue explores and strokes, now ever so gently, as if he knows I’m close. Slowly, slowly, he keeps lapping at me in perfect rhythm. He grabs both my thighs and spreads me, pushing my legs back as far as he can, so I am fully exposed to him. He continues to lick and suck with a fury.
I’m more open and exposed than I have ever been, which both frightens me and turns me on. The unaccustomed combination, along with my desire to satisfy his unrestrained need, makes me unhinged with longing, a thrill that’s totally new. And then the thought of someone walking by, seeing us like this, sends me over the edge. My body shakes as waves of pleasure cycle through me. I feel like I’m falling, flying. My mind goes blank, and my body goes wild. Alec keeps his mouth on me, moving with me as my body convulses.
“That was beautiful,” he says, coming up to lie by my side. He holds me from behind and nuzzles the back of my head, caressing me with his warm breath and tender kisses.
“Mmmmmm.” I loll my head and reach my arm around to hold him. Dizzy and wrung out, I can hardly get words out of my mouth.
A moment later, I come back to earth, sit up, and grab him, pushing him into his desk chair.
“My turn,” I whisper.
“I wasn’t sure you’d be into this,” says Alec, looking around the office, smiling, and still holding me tenderly.
I am into it—into the unspoken but thrilling possibility, however slight, of being caught by a coworker or seen through the window.
“But I’m so glad you are.” We both smile and pause, staring into each other’s eyes. The pull between us is too strong to fight.
I undo his pants and slide them down, releasing him fully. I spread his legs and crawl between them on my knees, taking his sizable girth into my mouth. Alec leans into the chair, lets his head loll back, closing his eyes.
I work my tongue into the mix, lapping it up and around the sensitive tip, and I dive down again. My tongue strokes the underside and then swirls around the top, over and over, as he gets harder and harder.
I can feel him pulsing, his pleasure building. I get into a rhythm. I slow down, suck harder, using my teeth a little, concentrate on the head, and grip tighter. He starts to move his hips gently, thrusting in and out of my mouth. He’s strong yet tender as he quietly moans and plays with my hair. His length increases even more. We move like this until he comes, with a long, low moan, and I keep him in my mouth as he releases.
He pulls me up to his lap and holds me in his arms. I look up at him and smile.
I move to straddle him, weaving my legs through the sides of the chair. He starts to move me on top of him, and he’s hard again. I rock my hips in rhythm with his as our passion ignites again. I give him my breasts, and our desire pulses. I want him inside me.
Suddenly, a loud bell rings. An elevator door dings somewhere nearby.
Alec and I look at each other in shock and sheer panic erupts inside me.
We both frantically reach around for our clothes, throwing them on carelessly. After a few moments of silence, we realize that it was security, making their rounds. I think of another headline from my life: Caught in the Act—Starr Busted While Doing the Wild Thing inFinancier’s Midtown Office. The guard has done a quick, cursory check and moved onto the next floor without noticing us.
As I take a moment and breathe a massive sigh of relief, Alec’s computer starts beeping, and the mood is permanently changed.
“Shit, something’s off,” he says. “I’ve got to deal.”
We finish getting dressed, and he puts me in his town car and sends me home.
12
Rough Around the Edges
“Hi, I’m Anna Starr from Celeb.”
The security detail for the new sitcom, The West Side, checks the list of people allowed on set for the day.
Bernie assigned me this exclusive street set visit to Charlie Grant’s new show. My palms break out in a clammy sweat thinking of sitting down in front of one of Hollywood’s biggest stars, my battered notebook in my shaking hands, trying to scratch out his responses to my slightly invasive questions.
Bernie arranged the interview through his personal publicist. Charlie Grant is getting his life in order post-rehab, and this is supposed to be a feel-good story on his comeback. What if he doesn’t feel like answering questions about the dark days?
I nervously finger the scarf wrapped around my neck. I woke up achy and covered in bruises after my night with Alec. Aunt Sylvie’s hand-me-down Hermès has come in handy. I knew he was being rough but didn’t realize how rough, in the heat of the moment. He’s so wild, yet in control of every movement, every detail. I realize that I feel somewhat powerless be
side him, and I have to admit, reluctantly, that part of me enjoys it.
I start to get hot again as the memories come flooding back. Focus, Anna. Focus! Why is it that every assignment from Bernie feels like my last? It’s so untrue that everything you need to know you learn in kindergarten. At least not at Celeb—where the dynamic is much more middle school than kindergarten. As security begins to let me through, the show’s network publicist runs up with her palm in the air.
“No one from Celeb is allowed on set,” she says, holding her hand up like a stop sign.
My face contorts in confusion. “Bernadette Roberts negotiated this story with Charlie Grant’s publicist weeks ago.”
“Not anymore. No one from your magazine is allowed here,” she reiterates, holding me back. She starts to nudge me off the set, as I stumble a bit in shock. This was supposed to be a puff piece on Grant—an apology of sorts, to make up for running several weeks’ worth of stories last year detailing his crazy binge with hookers and drugs at the Plaza.
“Anna, wait.” Tessa, the stylist I hung out with at the Bubble Lounge opening a few weeks ago, comes running up the street.
I still haven’t wiped the crazy look off my face. It’s as though the shock has glued it on. “What the hell is up?” I say.
“I know, I know,” she says.
“I’ll ask a couple of questions about the past, but only to give him a chance to atone for his wrongdoing. Is he on another bender or something?”
“No, Anna,” says Tessa, quietly, as she leans toward me. “You can thank your ace reporter for this one.”
And she runs off, fearful of being caught talking to the enemy. Next thing I know, I’m being forced out by security.
I call the one person I know who will help me get to the bottom of this.
“Jesse, it’s Anna. I need your help.”
“What is it, Starr?” he asks, sounding happy to hear from me. Jesse can be so sweet. But he’s a player at heart, and always will be. As long as I can remember that, I’ll be fine.
“I need to talk,” I whisper into the receiver. “But not over the phone. Jesse, something weird is going down here.”