Wardrobe Malfunction

by Samantha Towle

  “Yeah. I like to make things. Clothes mainly. But I like to make cards; it’s more personal than buying one, you know.”

  I wouldn’t know. I haven’t bought a card in years. It’s not like I can pop out to the shops to get one. Not without a bodyguard at the very least. Alex always buys them for me.

  “Is that for me as well?” I gesture to the package she’s still holding in her hands.

  “Oh, yeah. It’s…well, it’s just something I made. I thought it might help, but you don’t have to use it. And I’m sorry about the paper. It was all I could get.” She hands it over.

  I put the card and envelope down on the sofa and unwrap the package.

  Staring down at the unidentifiable black object in my hand, I toss the wrapping paper onto the sofa behind me. “Um…what is it?”

  “It’s a sling for groin injuries. I got the design off the Internet. See”—she steps closer and takes it from me—“this part goes around your hips.” She demonstrates against herself. “And, well…this is a little bit different than the usual straps used for groin injuries, but I made a, um…well, a part for your…” She points in the direction of my dick. “And a pouch for your…balls…to support the injured one. And I also put in an inner pouch that has a cooling gel pack in it, which, of course, you can change out.”

  I’m staring at her, mouth open.

  She made me a cock warmer.

  I’m in shock. And kind of turned on right now.

  I know. I’m a sick bastard.

  “And I made it extra large, you know, just in case,” she says, handing it back to me.

  Taking it, I blink a few times and stare down at it.

  The waistband part is made of soft elastic, and the cock part is made of a soft, stretchy material, kind of like Lycra.

  This woman, whom I’ve known for less than a day, who stabbed me in the ball sack, has made me a cock warmer.

  I actually don’t know what to say. For once in my life, I’m speechless.

  It’s got to be a joke. Surely.

  I blink and press my lips together. “Is this a joke?” I finally ask.

  When I see the hurt flicker through her eyes, I know it’s not, and I feel like a gigantic asshole.

  “Um, no, it’s not,” she says slowly and carefully. “You know what? Forget it,” she says, making a grab for it.

  But I quickly move it out of her reach, suddenly wanting to play.

  “No. It was really thoughtful of you.” I’m fighting a smile. Then, laughter snorts out of me.

  “God, you’re a jerk.” She frowns.

  “I’m sorry, but you made me a cock warmer. What do you expect me to say?”

  Her eyes narrow on me. “It’s not a cock warmer. And a thank-you would’ve been nice. I put a lot of thought into that.”

  “Yeah, I can tell,” I say drolly. “And, hang on, you stabbed me in the ball sack, and then you made me a cock warmer. What am I supposed to be thankful for? That I still have two balls?”

  “It’s not a cock warmer! It’s a sling for groin injuries!” Her hands slam onto her hips.

  Hips that I wouldn’t mind grabbing on to while thrusting in and out of her.

  I really am a sick fuck.

  It terrifies me what actually turns me on.

  Turns out, women who make cock warmers do it for me.

  “I don’t have a groin injury. I have a hole in my ball sack, thanks to you. And this”—I hold it up—“is a cock warmer. God, you are something else.” I chuckle.

  “And you’re an asshole!”

  My eyes swing to her just as she claps a hand over her mouth.

  “Quite a mouth you have on you there,” I say, feeling suddenly pissed off. I’ve never known someone who could push my buttons as quickly as this chick can. “Maybe you should put something in it to stop you from cursing out like that.” I hold out the cock warmer to her. “Here, put this in there. That should help keep you quiet.”

  “Ugh! Stuff you, you jerk! I can’t believe I even bothered! And have me fired because I’d rather dress a smelly tramp than you! At least he’d be more appreciative!”

  She storms off, heading for the door. And I have to hold back laughter.

  She’s a real pistol, this one, and I just can’t stop myself from stoking the fire one last time.

  “Hey, Pins,” I call to her back.

  She swings around. Her eyes are wide and blazing.

  “Pins?” she says like she can’t believe I had the audacity to call her that. “God…you are…you’re just mean! I can’t believe I ever thought you were hot!”

  The realization of what she just said flickers through her eyes, and her face goes bright red.

  And, in this moment, with her standing here, all angry and flustered, it is the sexiest thing I have ever seen. She is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. And I’ve seen a lot of sexy.

  “I am hot. And, FYI, this won’t fit, sweetheart. It’s too small.” I toss the cock warmer in her direction. It lands at her feet with a soft thud.

  Her eyes flash with something that sets my pulse racing. “You know what? You want somewhere to stuff that cock warmer? Then, you can stuff it up your ass!”

  “So, you admit, it’s a cock warmer?” I’m fighting back a smile, and I’m fighting hard.

  I never knew arguing could be this fun. But she somehow makes it fun.

  A cute growly sound escapes her. Her nostrils flare, her little hands ball into fists at her sides, and her chest heaves up and down, showing off those magnificent tits of hers. I have never wanted to fuck a woman more.

  Then, without another word, she flips me off and swings open the door, and then she is gone.

  And I burst into laughter. I can’t help it.

  She’s a spitfire.

  I like her.

  No way am I having her fired. I have a feeling that keeping Pins around will be very interesting. Very interesting indeed.

  And, no, I’m not going to fuck her. I’d have to be insane to let her near my dick. I might love sex, but I do have some sense of self-preservation.

  No, I’m going to fuck with her.

  Payback is a bastard…and he goes by the name of Vaughn West.

  Charly

  Well, it seems, I’m not fired, as Ava hasn’t said anything.

  We had dinner last night with Logan, and she never said a word. Actually, she asked how it went with Vaughn.

  I couldn’t tell her what had happened. I was too embarrassed.

  More like mortified.

  I totally fibbed and said that he hadn’t turned up. I know; I lied. It was crappy. But I didn’t know what else to say. Telling her the truth just wasn’t an option. I don’t think Ava is a gossip, but I couldn’t chance her telling anyone. I knew Vaughn wouldn’t want news of what I had done to him traveling. With any normal person, something like that might end up on someone’s Facebook status for a good chuckle. But, for Vaughn, it would end up on the nightly news. The guy can’t take a crap without it being reported, and he’s had enough shit lately. He deserves a break.

  I might think he’s a rude, obnoxious jerk, but I’m not out to hurt him.

  Well, not any more than I have already done.

  I still can’t believe what I did. I didn’t even tell Nick when he called last night, and I tell him everything. That tells you of my level of mortification.

  Ava was surprised when I said Vaughn hadn’t turned up, said it wasn’t like him and that she’d call his assistant to rearrange the fitting.

  I didn’t want her to call Alex, as he knew that Vaughn had shown up and it was me who was the problem. So, I told her not to bother, that I’d call him.

  That’s why I now find myself having to call Alex again—not so I can go apologize to his boss again, but this time, to actually get these clothes fitted. That is, if Vaughn will actually let me anywhere near him. Good thing is, I have the fitting for the Armani pants, so I can adjust all his other pants in line with those. There’s only some shirts, a few
vests, and several suit jackets for him to try on for me.

  Part of me doesn’t ever want to see him again after yesterday. And not just because of the stabbing incident, but because of the whole cock-warmer thing.

  I feel my cheeks start to heat with embarrassment at the memory.

  He was totally right; it was a cock warmer.

  Not that I’d ever admit that to him.

  I just hadn’t thought of that when I was making it for him. I’d thought I was being helpful, and I’d wanted to make amends for hurting him.

  But all that happened was, I ended up yelling at him again.

  I’m surprised he didn’t have me fired after that. I would have had me fired. God knows what Millie did to get herself fired. I’ve stabbed the guy, yelled at him, and made him a warmer for his cock, and I still have a job.

  God, yesterday was a total disaster.

  I guess it’s true what they say; you should never meet your idol because your illusion just might be shattered.

  I mean, Vaughn West wasn’t exactly my idol, more like a sexual fantasy, but whatever because, honestly, I wish I’d never met him.

  I’ll never be able to imagine him in any other way than with a pin stuck in one of his balls now.

  And he’s also a mean jerk.

  A handsome, super-hot, mean jerk.

  I stop in Starbucks on the way to the studio and grab a caramel latte, needing some caffeine before I speak to Alex. Then, I make the call.

  “Alex Larson speaking.”

  “Hi, Alex. It’s Charly. From wardrobe.”

  “Oh, hey. It’s my new favorite girl, Pins.” He chuckles.

  Pins?

  Ugh.

  That’s what Vaughn called me right before I flipped him the bird yesterday. Shit, I forgot I had done that as well.

  “Yeah, it’s, uh, me.”

  “What can I do for you?”

  “Well…” I bite my lip. “I still need to fit those clothes for Vaughn—not the pants,” I’m quick to say. “Just shirts, a few vests, and some suit jackets.”

  “Mmhmm.”

  “Would he be able to come in for a fitting today, as they’re needed for shots tomorrow?”

  “He’s got meetings all morning, and then he’s running lines all afternoon.”

  “Oh.” Shit.

  “Does he not have any space at all to fit me in? I’ll only need thirty minutes, max. I can come to him, wherever, to save him the journey.”

  “Okay, come to the hotel at six p.m. You remember his suite number?”

  “Yes.” Not forgetting that anytime soon. “Thanks, Alex. You’re a lifesaver.”

  “Anytime.”

  “Alex…will he be okay with me coming to fit him?”

  He laughs. “Guess we’ll see when you get here. See you later, Pins.”

  He hangs up, and I stare down at the phone, feeling a little sick.

  Oh well, I don’t have any other choice than to go. I have a job to do. I’ll just apologize—again—for yelling at him, calling him an asshole and a jerk, and giving him the middle finger. I won’t let him rile me up. And I definitely won’t be taking him any more I’m-sorry gifts; that’s for sure.

  Charly

  Six p.m. sharp, I’m standing outside Vaughn’s hotel room with his clothes hanging over my arm in a garment bag, my sewing case in my hand.

  I’m wearing my dark blue distressed skinny jeans, an oversized beige sweater that falls off the shoulder, and my leopard-print Christian Louboutins that I found in a secondhand charity shop in SoHo. I swear, I nearly cried with happiness that day; they were practically brand-new. I like to think they belonged to a celebrity who was clearing out her last-season items. I now make it a point to visit that charity shop every chance I get. Hanging from my shoulder is my knock off Gucci Dionysus GG Supreme mini bag. I love her. If only she were real. My hair is tied back in a sleek ponytail. My eye makeup is light. My lips are painted red.

  I look good. I feel good.

  I push my shoulder back, take a deep breath, fix a smile on my face, and knock on the door.

  You can do this, Charly. Yesterday was yesterday. Today is a new day.

  I hear footsteps approaching the door, and it swings open, revealing someone who’s not Vaughn.

  Oh.

  Oddly, I feel a flash of disappointment. I wanted to make an impression. A good impression.

  The guy looks to be around my age or a little older. With close-cropped brown hair, he has on a pair of black-framed glasses, and he’s wearing jeans, a navy-blue shirt, and a pair of Vans.

  “Hi.” I smile wide. “I’m Charly. I’m here to fit Mr. West—I mean, do a fitting for Mr. West. I’m from the studio. I work in wardrobe. I’m a wardrobe assistant.”

  For fuck’s sake, Charly.

  I do a mental eye roll at myself.

  He smiles. “Hey, Charly. I’m Alex. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

  Oh, it’s Alex. Duh.

  “Good to meet you, too, after speaking to you twice on the phone.” I laugh lightly.

  “Here, let me help you.”

  He gestures to the garment bag, so I hand it to him. He seems nice. Much nicer than his boss.

  “Come in,” he says.

  I walk past him and into Vaughn’s suite. Then, I hang near the door before following him over to the dining table on the other side of the room—where I gave Vaughn his cock warmer last night.

  Dear God.

  “Did you get a cab over with this stuff?” Alex asks, putting the clothes down on the dining table.

  “I did.” I put my sewing kit and handbag next to the clothes on the table.

  “How much was it?”

  “Oh, like ten bucks.”

  He gets his wallet from his pocket and pulls up a ten-dollar bill.

  “No, it’s fine.” I wave him off. “It’s my fault I had to come over here to finish the fit.”

  “You sure?” He checks before putting the bill away.

  “I’m sure.” I smile.

  “Well, I’ll have Vaughn’s driver take you home when you’re done. No need to get a cab back.”

  Speaking of Vaughn…

  I glance around for him.

  “Vaughn’s just in the shower. He’ll be out in a few. Can I get you a drink?”

  “A water would be great. Thanks.”

  He goes over to a mini fridge and gets out a bottle of water.

  “Thanks,” I say when he hands it to me. “So, was Mr. West okay about me coming to do the fitting?”

  “Depends. You’re not armed, are you?”

  I swivel at the sound of Vaughn’s voice behind me.

  He’s standing in the doorway of what I’m guessing is the bedroom. His hair is wet from the shower. He’s wearing black trackpants and a fitted tank. He looks amazing.

  Turns out, my attraction for him is still there—pin in ball sack aside.

  He walks toward me. Eyes set on mine. My heart stutters.

  He stops a foot away. “We need to stop meeting like this, Pins.” His voice is low, throaty. It does funny things to me. “People will start talking.”

  “Hello, Mr. West. And please don’t call me that.”

  “Vaughn. And don’t call you what?”

  “Pins.”

  “Why not? I think it’s cute. And apt. Don’t you, Alex?” His head tips to the side as he casts a glance at Alex.

  “Leave me out of this.” Alex chuckles from behind me.

  Vaughn’s eyes come back to mine, and a smile graces his lips.

  Damn, he looks good when he smiles.

  “It’s not apt. It’s…insulting,” I state calmly. “And a little annoying.”

  “It annoys you? Oh. Well then, of course, I’ll stop calling you it.”

  “Thank you,” I exhale, relieved.

  “No problem, Pins.”

  Argh!

  Deep breaths, Charly. He’s just doing it to wind you up. Don’t react.

  “Right. I’m heading to my room�
�unless you need me to stay?”

  I sense Alex move, but I can’t see what he’s doing because Vaughn and I are currently locked in a staring battle.

  “Nah, you’re good to go,” Vaughn answers him, eyes still on me.

  Don’t blink, Charly.

  “Unless Pins plans on giving me another injury. Then, I might need you to stay. I know how lethal she can be. I have the hole in my ball to prove it.”

  And I blink.

  Mother-trucker!

  He smiles a winning smile.

  The hot jerk.

  I grit my teeth and breathe out through my nose. Then, I fix a sickly sweet smile on my face. “I wasn’t planning on puncturing any more of your tiny body parts. But the night’s still young, so…maybe.” I lift my shoulder, causing my sweater to slip a little further. I see his eyes go to it and then back to my eyes.

  “Tiny? Ha! You crack me up. Oh, and, Pins, the cock warmer you made me—extra-large, you said? Yeah, it doesn’t fit.”

  “Too big?”

  “Funny. Too small. Way too small.”

  “I think I should stay,” Alex says. “You two might need a referee.”

  “We’ll be fine.” I give Alex my most professional smile.

  “Yeah, Pins and I will be just fine,” Vaughn states.

  God, he’s an annoying, gorgeous bastard. How can I want to kiss his face off and smack him on it at the same time?

  “Okay. Well, I’m just next door if you need me.”

  I hear the door shut, signaling that Alex has left, and then it’s just Vaughn and me, alone.

  Vaughn

  Maybe I should have had Alex stay. Not because I fear for my safety, but because I have the strong urge to fuck her.

  I spent most of last night trying not to think about her.

  And having her here isn’t helping anything. Arguing with her is like the best kind of foreplay ever.

  Fuck, is she hot, and that mouth of hers…that fucking smart-ass, sexy mouth of hers that I would love to see wrapped around my cock.

  But, nope, not gonna do it.

  I’m just here for this movie. No fucking around.

  I promised Jack and myself.

  “So, we’re doing this?” My voice comes out sounding sharper than I intended.

  “Yep. Put this on for me, please,” she says, holding out a crisp white shirt.