Hard Glamour

by Maggie Marr

  “But you liked it.” I couldn’t prevent the wicked smile that curled over my lips.

  A blush crept up over her bare breasts with their pretty little pink nipples that tasted like sugar and flooded her neck and finally her cheeks. She smiled and nodded her head. She buried her face deep into my arm. This was a shy, innocent part of Lane She could be tough, all lip, all heat, and sometimes anger, but with a definite attitude that said she would stand her ground. Here, in my arms, in this moment, with a light pink blush on her cheeks and her mussed hair, her face buried in my arm, there was a soft shyness about her that I already loved.

  “I did.” She bit her bottom lip and the hardness ached in my pants. “I didn’t want to stop.”

  “Baby, you’re killing me.” I took a deep breath. I ran the pad of my thumb over her bottom lip and saw a flash of want in her eyes. I leaned forward and kissed those beautiful plump lips. Lips I wanted to bite and suck.

  “I didn’t want to stop either, but I want you to be sure… I want us to be sure—”

  Her eyes clouded over and that wall of toughness flashed up around her. She started to roll away from me.

  “Hey, what? No, don’t pull away.”

  She tucked her chin even as I pulled her closer to me. She felt suddenly distant.

  “What, Lane? Please, don’t pull away from me.”

  Her lips flattened and the corners turned down. “It’s just”—she shook her head I felt her hair brush over my arm—“I’m not the right type of girl for you.”

  “Right type? What the hell does that mean?”

  “I mean…” She pressed her eyes closed as if she didn’t want to say it, but struggled to say it. “I’m not pretty enough, I’m not L.A. enough, I’m not—”

  I pushed my lips onto hers. I couldn’t think fast enough to say the right words to make her stop. I wanted her to feel the heat coursing through me, the desire she caused, the want, the ache. Finally I pulled my lips from hers and looked into her eyes. A smile curled around her lips.

  “You’re everything I could ever want,” I said, “and definitely more than I will ever deserve.”

  Her smile turned into a blush.

  “I’ve wanted this since the first time I saw you,” I said.

  “Maybe not the first time,” Lane countered. A smile curved the edges of her lips. “You were kind of too busy being an asshole.”

  I smiled. Yeah, I deserved that. “You scared the crap out of me,” I said. “You don’t know this, but one of the reasons I was so pissed is that I’m supposed to die before I’m twenty-five.”

  “What?” Lane lifted her eyebrows and the little furrow between her them was too cute for words, so I planted my lips there.

  She pulled her head back and looked at me, really looked at me, and there was worry there. “Are you sick? Why do you think you’re supposed to die before you’re twenty-five?”

  “I had my palm read and this woman said I wouldn’t make it to my twenty-sixth birthday.”

  “And you believed her?” Lane said. The look of incredulousness on her face like I was somehow nuts to base my fear on this woman got to me. “Some stranger telling you you’re going to die for no reason other than the lines on your palm and you believed her?”

  I rolled my gaze upward. How could I explain it so she’d understand? “It’s just this feeling, I have. This feeling I got when she said it, like it’s true. Completely true. Then look around you. This? This life that came out of nowhere. This life is like a rocket. One day I’m walking around campus, the next I’m lying on my back shooting an underwear ad? Then I’m above Sunset Boulevard and every agent in town is after me? That shit doesn’t happen, Lane.” I brushed my fingertips across her cheekbone. She was too damn beautiful for words. “That shit doesn’t happen to a guy like me.”

  She settled her chin onto my chest and peeked up at me, my arm draped over her back. I could lie like this for the rest of my life.

  “I think,” Lane said and her fingertips played across my chest, “that you got lucky. You got a chance and you ran with it. Now you’re taking advantage of that luck for you and for your brother and you’re turning that luck into a career.”

  Her words didn’t completely quell the fear lodged in my brain that this life was too good for me, but they helped.

  “I know one thing,” I said and let my hands skim over her back. “No matter how much time I get, I want to spend as much as I can getting to know you.”

  Chapter 16

  Lane

  The morning after I was with Dillon, he left for seven days. They were shooting action scenes in the desert. He’d made me feel things physically that I’d never experienced with another person, and then he’d gotten up at five a.m., kissed me good-bye, and left. He’d been gone for nearly a week and was meant to get back tonight. My stomach flipped with the idea that soon I would see him. Soon he would kiss me again, touch me again, make me feel so many amazing things in my body. His touch—I shivered with the thought of his fingertips over my skin. I licked my lips and the anticipation of being in his arms caused desire to curl between my legs.

  I’d spent the last seven days trying to keep thoughts of Dillon from taking up every minute of every day. We texted. We Skyped. We talked on the phone. But I still felt an uncertain shyness with him.

  I parked my Jeep at the bottom of Runyon Canyon and climbed out with the boys. The best way not to miss Dillon and to try to forget his absence was for me to stay busy. I set a fast pace as the five of us passed through the gates and started the ascent to the top of Runyon. Scorsese and Spielberg bounded around me, seeming excited by my energy. Bernie looked at me like “are you serious?” I smiled. Bernie would do Runyon, but he liked a leisurely pace that included pauses to sniff and pee and breathe. Today I didn’t want pauses, I didn’t want breaks, I didn’t want to think too much. I wanted to sweat and suck in oxygen. I wanted to think of nothing but trying to conquer this hill. There were so many thoughts crashing through my mind. The main thought was Dillon, and where I fit in Dillon’s future?

  In a very short time Dillon would have everything. He would be the hottest celebrity in the world, and I knew enough to know what that level of fame would mean for him. Mission Ranger was tracking huge and the studio anticipated the film to be the biggest of the summer. Soon Dillon wouldn’t be just a gorgeous face attached to a gorgeous chest with a giant package decorating a billboard above Chateau Marmont. Dillon would be the hottest commodity in Hollywood. Women would be throwing themselves at him, and I just couldn’t believe that he would want to be with someone like me.

  “Hey Lane!”

  I recognized the voice. I turned back but kept my pace. Taylor sped up his run until he was beside me and the boys.

  “Hi Taylor,” I gasped out. I stopped and turned to him. I sucked in giant lungfuls of air.

  “Trying to work up a sweat today,” Taylor said.

  Kong hopped up on his back legs and placed his front paws on Taylor’s shins.

  “Hey buddy,” Taylor said and bent over to give Kong a pat.

  Bernie ambled over and licked Taylor on the side of his face as a sign of thanks, I was certain on Bernie’s part, for forcing me to stop my wicked pace. Scorsese and Spielberg sniffed the bushes beside the path. Taylor had a great smile. My heart crumpled. I didn’t want to make him feel bad.

  “You must be really busy with those scripts,” he said. “I haven’t heard from you in a while. Did you have fun the other night with Amanda?”

  “I did. We ate cheeseburgers.” I added some emphasis on the word cheeseburger.

  Taylor’s eyebrows tightened. “Amanda ate a cheeseburger?”

  I nodded and began to walk again and Taylor kept pace beside me.

  “Wow,” Taylor said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Amanda eat anything but vegetables or fish.”

  “We bonded over grease,” I said.

  “I know she thought you were great when you guys met at the party. But cheeseburgers? Looks l
ike you two may end up best buddies.” His beautiful, playful smile curved around his lips.

  Some girl deserved that smile. Some girl would swoon over that smile. But that girl wasn’t me.

  “Amanda has great taste,” Taylor said.

  I was flattered. I didn’t know what to say and I blushed.

  “You’re gorgeous and completely down to earth.”

  “I’m not so sure about either,” I said. “I feel like a hot mess most the time.”

  “You don’t look it,” Taylor said. “Well not the mess part anyway.”

  I sighed. Yeah. I had to tell him. I had to be honest. I stopped walking.

  “Taylor, I…”

  He nodded, his eyes flitted to the distance as he settled his hands onto his hips. His gaze came back and landed upon me. “He got to you, didn’t he? Dillon?”

  Got to me? My stomach clutched. My eyebrows perked upward. Taylor spoke about Dillon as though I was a prize to be won or a possession to be owned. Kong wrapped his leash around my legs.

  “After your party… we… I… there was nothing before. I wouldn’t want you to think—”

  Kong barked.

  “Hey, I believe you,” Taylor said.

  He turned back up the path, and I unwrapped Kong’s leash. We started to walk again. Taylor’s face was hard, pensive, like he was fighting with something he wanted to say.

  “What is it?” I finally asked. What weighed on Taylor’s mind?

  He pulled up short and again settled his hands on his hips. His face emanated disdain, almost disgust. “Here’s the thing. I don’t want this to sound like sour grapes because it’s not, but you know about Dillon right?”

  “What do you mean know about Dillon?”

  “Look the only reason I know any of this is because Sterling and my uncle hear everything about everyone in town. He’s a great actor with a big future, and Sterling says he’s a good guy to hang out with, but… if you’re a girl… he’s not that great of a guy to be involved with.”

  My stomach knotted and my heart dropped. I understood what Taylor was saying. The first time I’d met Dillon, a California bimbette had been wrapped around his arm, and then there was the night at Area—which when I did the math really wasn’t that long ago—when he’d been having sex with the girl in the backyard… while looking at me. I shook the memories from my mind and forced the fear and clutching doubt deeper into my belly.

  “I know he’s been involved,” I said with a quiet in my voice.

  “Involved?” Surprise with hints of irritation inhabited Taylor’s voice. “Is that what you want to call it? More like a new girl every twenty-four hours. That’s the thing, Lane, Dillon doesn’t become involved. He uses girls like most people use trash bags. He changes them out every couple of days.”

  I froze with Taylor’s words. I chewed on the inside of my cheek. I definitely wasn’t a trash bag and I didn’t like the implication.

  “You know about what he does with his readers, right?” Taylor continued.

  My stomach pitched forward with his words. A tilting sensation gripped my head.

  “Webber, his agent, was supposed to find him a guy.”

  “His readers?” I whispered. Nausea careened through my belly and the left side of my neck tightened. Bernie crowded next to my leg, bumped my hand with his nose, and whined. I put my fingertips on his head to reassure him I was okay.

  Taylor leaned forward and his voice was low as though he didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to tell me, didn’t want me to feel like he knew I was going to feel.

  “He sleeps with his script readers and then fires them,” Taylor said. “That’s Dillon’s thing.”

  Dillon’s thing?

  A shaky breath rattled through my chest. I was so thankful for my sunglasses. I didn’t want Taylor to witness the hot tears in my eyes, the tears that were about to drop onto my cheeks and roll down my face.

  “You’re an amazing girl, Lane. I don’t want Dillon to do that to you.”

  I nodded. I didn’t think it was sour grapes on Taylor’s part. He seemed sincere, as though he really was trying to tell me something he thought I needed to know. We were back at the gate for Runyon Canyon.

  I called to Scorsese and Spielberg and clipped their leashes to their collar, then forced a fake smile to my face. I wouldn’t let anyone see me cry. I wouldn’t tell anyone that Dillon had started to mean something to me. That I’d believed, that I meant something to him. That I was different. That I was somehow special. That Dillon connected with me the same way I connected with him. That we were meant to be together.

  “Lane, I’m sorry,” Taylor said.

  “No worries. Thank you for telling me. I’d rather know now than later.”

  “I hope it’s different this time,” Taylor said. “You’re a special enough girl that it definitely should be.” He ducked his head. “I know it would be for me.”

  A sad little smile decorated my face with Taylor’s words. He would be such an amazing catch for the right girl. “I’ve gotta go. These guys have an appointment with the vet.”

  “I’ll see you soon,” Taylor said. He turned and ran up the path.

  I turned back to my pack, tucked my head down, and walked toward my Jeep. I wasn’t sure I wanted to see anyone at all.

  Dillon

  The desert was hot. I was dirty and exhausted. Bob pulled the black Escalade to a stop in front of the house and I slid out with my duffel bag. We’d done four days of night shoots and two days of day shoots and all I wanted was a shower and a bed. Preferably a bed that had Lane snuggled in it.

  “Thanks,” I said to Bob. Lane’s Jeep wasn’t parked in the drive and my heart dropped a little in my chest. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her face, her neck, her nipples in my mouth, and the hard shaking orgasms that she had experienced at my touch.

  Heat surged through me. I wanted to kiss her this instant, needed to kiss her, but I was a wreck. They’d shot my last scene and I’d headed out. My shirt was filthy with sweat and dirt. I should have showered, but all I’d wanted was to get home. Cool air slammed into me when I walked into the house. The scent of something meaty roasting in the kitchen hit my nose. There was no click-clack of claws on hardwood, so that explained the absence of Lane’s Jeep. She must have taken the pack for a run. I’d hoped that Lane would be with them wearing a cute sundress filled out by her amazing curves.

  I ambled toward the stairs and up to my room, dropping my duffel bag and then heading into the bathroom. I turned on the shower jets to let the water heat up and then slid off my shirt and my jeans. My phone rang and for a split second I didn’t want to answer, but I knew it was Choo by the ringtone.

  “What’s up,” I said.

  “She’s leaving.” His voice was panicked.

  “Who’s leaving?” I asked. I settled my hand on my hip. I was too tired for guessing games.

  “Lane is leaving,” Choo said. “What the hell did you do?”

  I was stunned. Shocked. Surprised. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “I like her,” Choo said. “I handpicked her. She’s my friend. You’re never home and now she’s leaving, too?”

  What the hell had happened? I’d just texted her last night and everything had been fine. “This is a mistake, Lane isn’t—”

  “Dude, she just called Webber and told him he needed to find another reader. I’d say it isn’t a mistake.”

  My heart slammed in my chest and a solid, cold tingle slithered up my spine. “Where was she? Where is she?”

  “I have no idea brother, but you’d better find her.” Choo clicked off his phone.

  The steam from the shower fogged the mirror. I heard the clamor of clickety-clackety dog claws. I walked into the hall holding my towel at my waist. Lane stopped.

  “Lane?” I held out my hand while I held the towel with my other.

  Her eyes roamed up my body and back down. She flushed. With her eyes all over me, I grew hard. I wanted her han
ds on my skin, not her eyes. I wanted her body pressed to mine. I wanted her. “What’s going on? I just got a call from Choo and he said you’re leaving?”

  “I… I can’t talk about it,” she said and started to walk past me.

  She brushed my arm with her shoulder and I grabbed her. A jolt coursed through me. It took all my resolve not to yank her close and plant my lips on hers. I’d missed her. I wanted her. I’d never had these feelings for a girl before.

  “You’re leaving me?” I asked.

  The pain in my chest with the thought of it caused my voice to deepen. It nearly shook. I couldn’t imagine coming home without Lane here. The realization hit me. My head pulled back with the thought, the idea, that in such a short time Lane had become a need. How had this happened? Why had this happened? Her eyes. Her mouth. The smile. Just everything that was her made me want to keep her and protect her and be only with her.

  Lane’s eyes widened with my question. She looked startled.

  “I’m just your reader,” she said. Her jaw jutted forward and she yanked her arm from my grasp. “I know what you do with your readers.”

  My heart thudded and my throat thickened. I closed my eyes and licked my lips. I was an asshole. I was a man-whore. I was a guy that used girls and kicked them to the curb and now finally, when I met a girl I couldn’t get out of my system, a girl I wanted to stay, a girl I cared about, I was going to pay for my past sins.

  “You’re not like that,” I said.

  “I know I’m disposable to you.” Her gaze locked onto mine.

  There was loads of pain in her eyes. Pain that I had caused by my past. This was one of the reasons I hadn’t wanted to involve Lane in my life. I wasn’t worthy of her. I would only hurt her with my past or my future—something I did would break her apart. But I was also selfish. I wanted her. I wanted her for now and I wanted her for later. I wanted her to be mine and only mine. My fingertips brushed across her cheekbone.