Indiscreet (The Discreet Duet Book 2)

by Nicole French

  “Can I ask you something?” I wondered.

  Will took a large bite of salad and looked up, waiting for me to continue.

  “Is there—is there going to be a sex scene in this movie?” I asked. “With, um…with her?”

  He set his fork down, alarmed. “Jesus, Lil. No. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

  “Look, I get it. It’s part of the job, so I wouldn’t be surprised if—”

  Will interrupted me with a hand on my knee. “It is part of the job,” he said. “For some. But when I originally signed this deal with Beauregard, I was seventeen, and it was for four films over ten years. I didn’t do the last one, which is why I’m stuck on this piece of garbage, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have rights. And one of those includes a no-nudity clause.”

  My jaw dropped. “Wait—but—you’ve done sex scenes before. You—you showed the entire world your ass in The Playbook.”

  I couldn’t lie. As pretty as he had looked in that movie, I wasn’t exactly happy about watching my man parade in front of the screen naked and then crawl on top of a ridiculously gorgeous and very naked woman. The scene had faded to black, but not until after a few well-timed thrusts and some tongue-heavy kisses. Sexiest man alive indeed. I was pretty sure that one scene earned him the title.

  Will rolled his eyes. “Please don’t watch my movies anymore, Lil. That wasn’t a Beauregard film either. And anyway, it was just an ass, Lil.”

  I scowled. “Yeah, but it’s my ass. And that was my dick in the unrated director’s cut too.”

  “No, it’s not,” he said, “because I was wearing some very sticky tape at the time and humping a pillow that put several inches between us.”

  I shook my head. “No way.”

  “Way.” Will’s eyes gleamed as he took a bite of fish.

  “But I could totally see your—”

  “Cock sock and CGI, babe.”

  “And what about her—”

  He shook his head, then pulled out his phone, typed in a few words into Google, and then turned a photo of said sex scene to me.

  “What’s really embarrassing is that my junk gets forty million hits on the internet.” He pointed at the picture. “That’s not me; that’s special effects. You know my dick is bigger than that, anyway.”

  I smacked him, and Will chuckled, then continued pointing things out.

  “Sweat? Water and baby oil. Pubic hair? Nah, that’s a merkin on top of a pillow. You can’t see her nipples, but they were covered with neon-green pasties and then recreated later. And her mouth? Tasted like cigarettes and Certs.” Then he pointed around the screen, outside of the frame, to people and objects we couldn’t see. “Director. Continuity. Boom. Camera one and operator. Significant other. Camera two and operator. Script supervisor. Makeup. Wardrobe assistant. First AD. Second AD. Gaffer.” He put his phone down. “Want me to keep going?”

  I shook my head. “No, I get your point. There’s a lot of people around, and most of it is fake.”

  “Lil, absolutely nothing about this shit is hot. I had to sit there awkwardly, almost naked, pretending to be aroused in front of about fifty other people. The only actors who really get turned on by sex scenes are probably deviants in the first place, and not in a good way.”

  “Okay, okay, I get it!” I pushed my food away, no longer hungry. “But look at your partner. She’s still beautiful. It couldn’t have been all bad, right?”

  I knew what I sounded like: a petty little girl. But I couldn’t help it.

  “Hey.” Will took my hands, and I had to fight not to pull them away. It didn’t matter how many times he explained it, I wasn’t ever going to like the fact that he was going to kiss his ex on screen.

  I mashed my lips together. “I’m sorry.”

  Will shook his head. “If I could get out of it, I would, Lil. I swear to God, I would.”

  I sighed. Guilt flooded me—of course he didn’t want to do this. The man had faked his own death trying to get away from this industry. And here I was, the person who had brought him right back into it, getting jealous over moments neither of us had any control over.

  I placed my hands on his big shoulders and pulled him close.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. Will closed his eyes as I delivered a slow kiss, full of promise.

  “Mmm,” he hummed, leaning forward for more.

  It was way too easy to forget where I was when he kissed me like that. And much too easy to consider the fact that, other than last night, we had been apart for close to a month at this point. “Will,” I whispered as he started twirling his tongue under my jaw. “Will, people are going to—”

  “Fuck ’em,” he murmured into my lips as he pressed me back into the couch.

  “Yeah, but won’t they hear—”

  “Fuck them, Lil.” He kissed me again, this one full of lips and tongue and the mild threat of what he would do if I didn’t stop worrying.

  “Yeah, but—”

  “I said, fuc—”

  “Mr. Baker?” There was a knock at the door, and immediately, I squirmed out from under Will and to the other side of the couch while he sat up and pushed a hand through his hair with a face full of thunder.

  “What?” he barked.

  The trailer door opened, and the terrified face of a young production assistant popped in. “Oh, um, sorry, sir,” he said, his gaze boomeranging between us. “I, um, it’s your call to choreography, sir.”

  Will sat back on his heels and gave me a look that said, clear as day, next time, before turning to the PA with a nod. “I’ll be right there.”

  He hopped off the couch and bent over to give me a quick kiss. “No rest for the wicked. I’ll be home late. Don’t wait up, okay?”

  I nodded and scooted back to the food. “I won’t,” I said and watched him go with regret.

  18

  Much, much later that night, after I had ventured to the grocery store, gone for an evening run, picked at my guitar by the pool for a solid hour and a half, and then gone to sleep some time past midnight, I finally felt a long, solid body slide into bed with me.

  I had fallen asleep crying as the enormity of the day had finally come crashing down. The things I had done and seen. An intervention. Leaving my mother. Moving to LA. And then, of course, the drama on Will’s set.

  I didn’t move, still half-asleep, lingering at the edge between consciousness and dreams. But a strong arm wound around my waist and pulled me into a wall of warmth, and a pair of lips nestled behind my ear, inhaling deeply.

  “Mmmm,” I hummed. “That feels good.”

  But his touch wasn’t insistent the way it had been the night before or in New York. For a moment, I was taken back to the lake, to those precious, lazy days before he’d been found out, and the world consisted of us and no one else.

  Will drifted a hand down the side of my body, resting a moment on my waist before dragging his fingers back up. He repeated the motion several times, lulling me back into something close to sleep. But not quite.

  “Sometimes,” he said, his voice coarse, like he’d been speaking for too long, “sometimes I’m still not sure you’re real.”

  I continued to focus on the tickle of his fingernails over my ribs. We lay there together for a long time, until eventually his hand stopped and his breaths started to grow longer. And then, slowly, I turned over to find his eyes wide open, blinking into the dark.

  “What is it, Lil?” he asked as his caress moved to my cheek.

  I leaned into the touch. “Where…where do you see us? After all of this is over?”

  “Where do I see us.” He said it like a statement, almost like there was no doubt that he did see us—he just hadn’t revealed it yet. “You really want to talk about this right now? You don’t think you’ve had enough serious conversations for one day?”

  I swallowed, but found that I did. Considering the topsy-turvy nature of my life the past few months, I needed a bit of stability. I needed something resembling a plan, even if it
was only for him and me.

  “I know…I know we haven’t really talked about it, but—”

  “Lil—”

  “And obviously you’re not going to be thinking long term with someone you met a few months ago—”

  “Lil—”

  “So maybe it’s dumb, and I shouldn’t have asked. Forget I said anything.”

  Abruptly, I was flipped onto my back, and Will pounced like a panther.

  “Stop. Talking,” he said as he framed my face with his hands. “For one second.” I opened my mouth, but before I could say anything, he pressed a finger to it. “One second, Lil.”

  Slowly, I nodded and shut my mouth. Maybe I was worrying too much. Maybe I needed to let things unfold naturally.

  Then Will leaned down and pressed his lips to mine. The kiss was closed-mouthed. Chaste. Safe.

  “For the record,” he said quietly, “I see the entire fucking world with you.” He grazed his knuckles over my cheek and tucked a strand of my hair around my ear. “When I think about my future, I see you, and no one else.”

  I inhaled sharply. “Really?”

  He nodded. I felt like I could dive into the warm green of his eyes.

  “Like…like what?” I asked. I couldn’t help it. I had so many visions that danced around in my head, but I wanted to hear his.

  He hovered his mouth above mine, then over my cheeks, my eyelids, the rest of my face. “To start,” he said. “I’m going to marry you. You’re going to be my wife, and I’m going to be your husband, and we are going to belong to each other and no one fucking else.”

  Oh. I hadn’t really been asking about that far in advance, but apparently Will was already heading that direction. Well, fine. I was right there with him. And I liked the sound of no one else very much.

  “What about…what about a family?” I ventured. “Do you…do you want that too?”

  I had never really considered having children before now. This moment, actually. Most of my life had been spent with a parent who didn’t really know how to be one, so why would I know how to do any better? On top of that I was a starving artist, planning a career that, even if successful, would have taken me on the road for months at a time, surrounded by all manner of substances, derelicts, and environments that generally weren’t good for children. Kids never seemed like they would be in the cards for me.

  Until now.

  The mouth edging around my jaw stilled. I turned my head, and Will pressed back up, drifting his gaze down to my flat stomach, then back up with an unreadable expression.

  “What is it?” I asked. “Do you…do you not want kids?”

  He sighed. “It’s…complicated, Lil.”

  I tensed. What did that mean?

  “I’ve thought about it,” he continued as he rolled back to lie next to me on his side again. He slipped a hand over my belly and began circling my navel with his thumb. “With you. More than I should probably admit.”

  A golden warmth expanded in my chest.

  “I can see them,” he whispered. “Two, maybe three. Their hair is curly like yours, but blond like mine. One has my eyes, and the other two have brown ones, like yours. They are all kind and so damn beautiful, just like their mother. The oldest is a boy, and he’s tall and looks like my dad. We’d…maybe we’d name him Michael. We’d raise them near the water, and I could teach them to sail too.”

  He continued to touch my stomach while I closed my eyes, imagining with him. I could see it so clearly––Will with a small, curly-haired child perched on his shoulders. One running diving off the dock at the lake while I cradled the youngest in my arms. It seemed perfect. So…right.

  “But, Lil, how could I bring kids into this chaos? I can barely deal with the bastards who photograph me. I don’t even want to think about what will happen when they figure out you’re here. How…” He buried his face into my arm, the skin muffling his tortured words. “How could I ever allow someone like that to torment my own child?” When he looked up, his eyes were full of dread. “What kind of parent would I be if I did that?”

  In that moment, I knew he wasn’t only thinking of this imagined family, but of his own upbringing, at the hands of a father who was at best unnerved by his son’s fame and eventually almost indifferent to it, and a mother who nurtured the frenzy despite the fact that her son clearly couldn’t deal with it.

  “I can’t have kids, Lil,” he said sadly. “As much as I might want to one day, it wouldn’t be right. Because…I’ll never escape this life. Not completely. Maybe it’s not fair of me to ask you to endure it either. But, like you said, I always was kind of an asshole. And I can’t fucking stand the thought of losing you.”

  I didn’t laugh. For the first time, the joke wasn’t funny.

  “You’re not an asshole,” I said softly. “And also, for the record, I think you’d be an amazing father.”

  His eyes closed again and he exhaled, long and low. “Maybe in another life.”

  His tone was sad, but resolute. Well. Apparently that was it.

  “Maybe,” I agreed and tried to ignore the heaviness in my chest as the image of those three haloed children disintegrated. “It’s not like I bring the greatest gene pool to the table anyway.” After all, I came from a family full of addiction, neglect, and absence. It wasn’t exactly a winning combination. Maybe this was for the best.

  Will’s eyes popped open. “Don’t do that.”

  I shrugged. “Do what? It’s true.”

  He shook his head.

  When his lips landed on mine, it was a kiss intended for comfort, but the chasteness from before quickly disappeared. It was becoming clear to me that Will and I shared a common protectiveness over each other. Neither of us were willing to hear anyone talk badly about the other—even if it was ourselves.

  He rolled on top of me, fitting himself between my legs. I wore only a thin camisole and underwear to bed, and as his tongue continued to probe mine, I quickly felt the evidence of his desire lower down.

  “You,” he said as he drifted kisses over my neck, “are not allowed to talk about yourself like that. I won’t fucking have it.”

  “Oh no?” My voice was breathy—his tongue was doing things against my collarbone that made it hard to breathe.

  One of his hands slipped down my side and yanked his briefs down, followed by my underwear. The silky length of him slipped between my thighs, rubbing against the desire he fed with each light thrust.

  “No,” he said as he locked a hand around my hip and tipped me to meet him. Our gazes locked, green eyes to brown, as he slowly, gently, pushed inside. He stretched my limits, inch by full inch, until he could go no further. I gasped, arching against him. I wasn’t sure I’d ever get used to his size—both because of its undeniable intrusion, but also because of the way his body demanded a response from mine.

  “No,” he said again as he started to move. This close, his big body rubbed over mine top to bottom, sharp angles meeting soft curves, finding ways to energize that sensitive bundle of nerves between my legs from inside and out.

  “Do you hear me?” he asked as he started moving faster. “You are everything to me, Maggie. You are amazing, in every way. You’re beautiful.” Thrust. “Kind.” Pull. “Smart.” Ache. “Talented. The full fucking package, and then some.”

  “Will!” I gasped as he rubbed against my clit again. My muscles squeezed, a familiar current starting to run through them.

  But he didn’t stop, just balanced himself more evenly with his forearms braced on either side of my head so he could kiss me, twist our tongues together, mimicking the union of our bodies lower down. Everywhere else.

  “I swear to God, Lil. I’d give you everything I have in the world if it would make you happy,” he groaned as he thrust even deeper, finding my limits, and, if his lack of breath indicated anything, his own as well.

  I had no words by this point. When we were like this, Will consumed me. Made it impossible to speak, to think, even to feel anything but him.
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  “P-please.”

  He pushed up on one arm and slipped his other hand between us. His finger found my clit and pinched lightly.

  “It’s okay, baby,” he whispered. “Let go. You’re safe.”

  It was as if he knew exactly what I needed to hear—that curious combination of desire, fear, and safety undid me completely. I came with a loud cry, my fingers clenched in his hair as the currents inside me exploded. My body bucked with his, seizing with each thrust of his hips, flick of his fingers.

  “Lily,” he murmured as every muscle he had was cast into high relief. “Oh God, Lil.”

  His teeth found my shoulder, and he came in a series of loud grunts, emptying himself into me completely as my legs entwined around his waist, pulling him closer, deeper, as far inside me as he could get.

  “Will,” I murmured as we both slowly fell. It was the only thing I could think. The only thing I could say.

  His face remained pressed into the pillow for a very long time, until slowly, he lifted himself up, though he stayed inside.

  “Any man would be lucky to be the father of your children,” he said, his forehead damp against mine.

  I inhaled, not even bothering to wipe away the tear that trailed from the side of my eye. His admission felt like a loss—another future together we could never have.

  But we did have each other. Maybe that was all we would ever really need.

  “I love you,” he whispered in a low, deep voice, the one that spoke to resonances within me I had never heard until then.

  I sighed, letting the calm of night finally wash over me. I should have known better than to try for peace without being in his arms anyway.

  19

  “Come on, Lil, let me see.”

  A few weeks later, I stood in the middle of Will’s walk-in closet, hardly able to recognize myself as I stared at my reflection in the floor-to-ceiling mirror.

  “I don’t know,” I said to Robin, the stylist sent from the studio.

  We were getting ready to attend one of five separate premieres over the next year in support of one of Beauregard’s movies—a contractual obligation that Benny hadn’t been able to get Will out of. Apparently since Will wasn’t planning to make any other movies after this, they were going to milk his reappearance into pop culture for everything it was worth. Corbyn wasn’t particularly happy with the decision since they were in the middle of filming, but del Conte was adamant. Amelia’s new movie, a rom-com that wasn’t projected to do well, needed all the promotional boost Will’s star power could give it.