Indiscreet (The Discreet Duet Book 2)

by Nicole French

  One finger dipped inside. “Dresses like what?”

  My head fell back against the wall as his thumb pressed on my clit and started to rub.

  “Dresses that—oh!—” I arched as another finger joined the first, and the two started to move, slowly fucking me against the wall in time with his thumb.

  “Dresses that make me want to fuck you in front of every one of those bastards out there, cameras be damned?”

  Will dropped the hand over my head, which fell limp to my side, and then slipped his fingers under the strap of my dress and behind, teasing it over my shoulder while his other hand continued its onslaught lower down. My thighs spread for him as if of their own accord.

  “Dresses that make me want to flip you over one of those tables and show the whole fucking world that you’re mine?”

  As he spoke, his deep voice rumbled over the delicate skin of my neck, over my collarbone, following the strap over my shoulder, and then back up. He kissed me, sucking one lip, then the other into his mouth. Delicately, but with little bite. I moaned against his mouth, and he inhaled sharply.

  A third finger joined the other two, and distantly, I sensed the strap of my dress falling down, baring one breast to anyone who might see.

  “You make me crazy, you know that, woman?” Will muttered as his hand started to move faster, deeper. My hips began to writhe on it, riding his hand a little faster, a little more furiously. “Goddamn. Look at you.”

  I couldn’t look. I couldn’t think. With little else than his touch and a few kisses, Will had rendered me completely speechless. He dipped down and sucked my nipple into his mouth. This time I couldn’t silence my moans at all.

  So instead of fighting, I followed the rest of my instincts. Arching into his mouth, his touch, I reached down between us, undid his pants, pulled out his cock and squeezed it lightly with both hands.

  “Fuuuuuck, Lil,” Will moaned against my breast. But he didn’t stop what he was doing, and neither did I as I began working my grip up and down his silky length. A pipe was less a cliché and the most apt description in the world.

  “Will?”

  A high, familiar, British voice rang out through the coatroom. Both of us froze. I moved to get away, but Will pressed a hand to my sternum, warning me not to move.

  The fingers inside me pulled out. And then pushed back in. And then they did it again while his thumb began to rub over my clit all over again.

  “Don’t. You. Stop,” Will ordered in a harsh whisper as the hand on my chest slid up to fit lightly around my neck, then up farther to cover my mouth. Obediently, my hand continued to move below.

  “Will, darling, one of the waiters said they saw you dart in here, you little monkey. Corbyn is asking for you,” Amelia called. There was a brief shuffle. “You’d better come.”

  I buried a laugh into his shirt, and Will pressed his forehead into the wall above my shoulder and grinned.

  “I’ll be right there,” Will called back, his voice creaking with every movement. “I’m just…” Will turned to me with a salacious grin. “Trying to find something.”

  I tried to smirk, but the flick of his fingers down below wasn’t giving me much ability to do anything other than work out his pleasure along with mine. His fingers continued their movements, and my hips gyrated into them, begging for deeper penetration while I helped him along.

  His thumb pressed harder, and my mouth opened with a loud cry that Will swallowed with a kiss.

  “All right, darling, don’t be long.”

  I writhed against him, coming apart completely as my orgasm overtook me in harsh, unforgiving waves. I spasmed.

  “I’m…coming,” Will managed to get out as he grabbed his cock, which I’d unfortunately dropped as I’d lost my senses completely. “Fuck!” he hissed as he shoved up my skirt.

  One, two, three harsh strokes of his fist, and suddenly he was lurching against the wall. I floated down from my euphoria, my hand drifted down to cover his, and we both clutched his pulsing length together as he emptied himself all over my thighs.

  And, then, eventually, consciousness returned, along with the cold, hard texture of the brick behind me and the newly suffocating atmosphere of being buried in a pile of coats. Will pushed a hand off the wall, but continued to loom over me.

  “Um, can you go get a paper towel or something?” I asked. “I can’t go out there like this.”

  Another slow, wicked smile spread across Will’s face. Holding my skirt up with one hand, he reached between my legs with the other and proceeded to smear the remnants of his release down one thigh and up the other. Without moving his gaze from mine, he continued to rub it in until my legs were fully coated with…him. Then, with a smirk, he pulled a white handkerchief out of his pants pocket and proceeded to clean his hand, but left the sticky residue on my skin.

  My skirt dropped, but I gawked downward. “I can’t believe you just did that.”

  A finger tipped up my chin, forcing me to look Will in the face. For the first time that night, I saw genuine mirth there. Happiness. I didn’t even care where it came from—only that it was directed at me.

  “If you’re going to wear dresses that bring out my animal side, Lil, then you better be ready for the beast.” He kissed me, with a slight bite of my lower lip that had me yearning for more all over again. “Now, let’s go schmooze with the studio heads. If I have to watch these assholes ogling my girl for another fifteen minutes, I want to do it knowing she’s been claimed.”

  I rolled my eyes, but didn’t argue.

  “Animal,” I muttered as I followed him out of the coatroom.

  Will barked a laugh—a brief, momentary, but one hundred percent real laugh, all the way from his belly.

  “Only for you,” he said and tugged me out with him.

  21

  “Any word from your mom?”

  I sighed and sat back in my car—or, I should say, the Tesla that the studio had loaned Will and me while we were in LA. It was a waste, really, since Hakeem and Garrett drove Will everywhere. I was parked outside the lot where Will currently had two more weeks scheduled until principal photography on Green Lantern would wrap and we would be free…for six months, anyway.

  “No,” I told Calliope. “I’ve been calling, but she’s not picking up or returning anything. She finally let her friend Barb come over again, so she’s been letting me know how she’s doing.”

  “That’s her friend who took part in the intervention?”

  “Yeah. So, I guess that’s progress.”

  I plucked at an errant thread on the hem of my skirt. Other than Barb, Mama still hadn’t been willing to speak to any of the people who’d showed up that terrible morning. She avoided church like the plague, and so Lucas (via Lindsay, unfortunately) had taken it upon himself to check up on her at Curly’s where Mama continued to make a moderate fool of herself several times a week. I had to accept it: I’d failed. And maybe I had to accept too that, as much as it hurt, I couldn’t have my mother in my life anymore.

  But it did hurt. A lot.

  “So, two weeks, huh? What are you guys going to do after that?”

  That was the big question. Will wanted to go back to the lake, but I wasn’t so sure. What was I supposed to do there? Go back to cleaning rooms at the inn while my mother and I pretended to ignore each other? Leech off my movie star boyfriend while we hid in the woods?

  Neither option seemed particularly appealing, and yet…I still didn’t have a clue what the alternative was.

  “We’re still figuring it out,” was all I could say.

  Will, of course, was dying to go back to the woods. He had big plans to build a massive perimeter around his property and install a permanent security team there until the crazy buzz died down. I wasn’t so sure. A cage was still a cage, no matter how big.

  We’d attended one more of the five contractually required premieres, plus he’d also done two late night interviews as a way to start building buzz for the upcoming film. Eac
h appearance had been more chaotic than the last, and it had gotten to the point that he regularly had to change SUVs when he drove around to avoid the paparazzi that tended to hover outside the studio lot, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. I began to understand why he had hated this life so much—the poor man barely existed outside of the studio and our rented backyard.

  “By the way, that new stuff you sent me is amazing,” Calliope said. “Really different from your old work.”

  I smiled. “You like it?”

  While Will had been filming, I spent at least a few hours every day at the house recording something onto my computer. They weren’t the best recordings in the world, but it was amazing what you could do with a decent soundboard and mic. I was finally starting to get some of the sounds together that I could hear in my head—at least enough that they made sense.

  “Oh, yeah,” Calliope said. “They’re very…I don’t know. Cinematic, maybe. One of them really reminded me of Sigur Ros.”

  I grinned. “Thanks, girl. I’m glad you like it.”

  “Have you sent anything to that Rob guy you met?”

  Rob Reinquist and I had actually been exchanging emails for a few weeks. I liked him. He sort of reminded me of a corny uncle I never had. Lately he’d been making noises about having Will and me over to meet his family, but Will had never had a break in filming, and I didn’t want to go by myself.

  “No,” I replied.

  “And why not?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t want to seem opportunistic, I guess. Everyone in this town wants something. I kind of think Rob enjoys having a friend to talk shop with who isn’t trying to get anything from him.”

  Calliope scoffed. “Babe, you have to put yourself out there. If you’re not going to stand up for your talent, no one will. And you’ve got too much of it to keep to yourself.”

  I sighed. “Point taken. But, Cal, I gotta go. Will is supposed to break for lunch soon, and then they are leaving to film some crazy scene in Death Valley for three days, so I won’t see him until Friday.”

  “Got it. Go shtup your man in his trailer so that Kate Moss wannabe can’t sink her claws in.”

  I chuckled. Calliope actually seemed to hate Amelia more than I did. There had been a few more catty moments, but mostly Amelia and I had managed to avoid each other since her premiere. I wondered if she had seen more in the coat closet than we thought.

  “Will do, boo.” I hung up the phone and got out of the car.

  Although Will’s schedule definitely wasn’t exact, if I did miss his rare moments off, I risked not seeing him for days. This week he’d be gone for a minimum of three, possibly up to a week if things didn’t go smoothly. I was spending every spare moment with him in his trailer, since we had next to no time together anywhere else. Everyone was putting in extra hours to make sure things ended on time.

  I raced toward the “base camp,” where the collection of trailers containing props, costumes, and talent were located along with the second AD’s headquarters next to the soundstages for the production.

  Most of the production team and even the security guys in the front of the studio were used to my presence by now. I’d been provided with a pass to drive myself on and off the lot, which gave Garrett and Hakeem more time off (to work with other people more in need of their services).

  “Hey, Maggie,” said Leon, one of the sound guys. “You listening today? They’re almost done, I think.”

  I shrugged and took a seat in one of the extra director’s chairs set up around the sound equipment. Leon handed me an extra set of headphones that was hooked up to the equipment and I listened in on the scene currently being filmed on the closed set next to us.

  “Guys, I’ll be back. I need to take a leak.”

  I giggled. Will was as blunt as ever—and I doubted that was in the script.

  There was an audible sigh over the mic and a rustle on set. I considered getting up to go find Will, but ended up staying put when I heard another familiar voice—this one female and very British.

  “Honestly, Corbyn, if you can’t elicit some kind of emotion from him in the next take, I’m going to slap him across the face myself,” Amelia snapped. “It’s like making out with a bloody broom handle.”

  There was some shuffling, and then the muffled voice of Corbyn, the director, seemingly assuring Amelia that he would fix the problem. I bit my lip. Did I want to be listening to this particular scene?

  “Hold on there, hon. Your makeup got smeared during the last take.”

  Another loud sigh—I was guessing it was Amelia while someone touched up her face.

  “Did you see that?” she asked whoever was helping her. “He touches me like I’m a bloody leper. Am I that hideous compared to that little urchin he’s shacked up with? Must I get a headful of toddler curls like hers to compete?”

  The makeup artist laughed, and I reached up self-consciously to pull at one of said curls. My hair had long reverted back to its natural state since arriving in LA. It was so curly these days that I didn’t even bother to brush it out anymore. I just gave it its weekly coconut oil mask and let it riot freely. I’d considered another keratin treatment, but Will said he liked it the way it was.

  “It used to be so much easier,” Amelia said. “Once upon a time, a scene like that would have been pure foreplay. Four takes, and he’d have had me over his shoulder and in his trailer with two other women. And by the way, the rumors are absolutely true about everything he has going on…down there. More than enough for three of us, if you know what I mean.”

  My mouth dropped open. There was an audible sigh from the makeup artist.

  “’Course, back then he’d be up for a few other types of fun, too. The Fitz Baker I knew would have taken any pill I gave him for the surprise factor alone. Now he’s so bloody boring, it’s painful.”

  “He’s probably stressed about the movie. Filming is tense, and he’s been gone a long time,” said the other woman. “The wrap party is just around the corner. I bet you’ll be able to get him to loosen up then. Remind him a little of what he’s been missing.”

  There was a shuffle as the boom seemed to move around out of earshot, but afterward, I could hear their voices a bit more faintly as they continued to speak.

  “What about his…”

  “Darling, please. She’s nobody. She’s basically a human security blanket. Once Will gets his bearings again, he’ll get rid of his wet blankie and come right back to where he belongs.” Amelia giggled. “You’re going to hold up your end of the bargain, right?”

  There was a snicker. I felt like I was going to be sick.

  “Yeah,” said the other girl. “The old Fitz Baker could never say no to a threesome. Let’s see if he’s changed as much as everyone’s said.”

  I strained to hear Amelia’s response, but the boom moved again. There was more shuffling, and after a minute, I heard Will’s voice in the background.

  “All right,” he said. “Let’s get this over with. I’ve got a hot date I don’t want to miss.”

  I took the headphones off with a smile and handed them back to Leon. With one phrase, I was less interested in hearing the rest of the scene and more concerned with being in Will’s trailer when he was finished. I didn’t want to miss my “hot date” either.

  I hopped off the chair and started toward the other side of the soundstage where his trailer sat by itself. He had requested that it be away from the “base camp” for extra privacy, much to the irritation of the PAs, as I had gathered. I practically skipped down the pavement, rounded a corner, and without looking where I was going, barreled headfirst into another person whose voice was immediately familiar.

  “Whoa, there, Flower. Watch your step.”

  I froze, looking around for any other crew who might be nearby. Of course, there was no one—I was in a part of the lot that was purposefully isolated from the rest. For my misanthropic boyfriend.

  I swallowed. I always knew this was a possibility, bu
t over the past several weeks, I’d gotten too comfortable and began to accept the possibility that maybe Theo was done tormenting me. That maybe since I had lost my claims in court, we were done and he was really out of my life. But his presence on set was prohibited by the terms of Will’s contract, so what the hell was he doing here now?

  I glanced around nervously. If Will knew that Theo was here, I didn’t know what he would do. And I didn’t know what Theo would do after.

  “Flower?”

  The word made my skin absolutely crawl. But I didn’t want to be bested by this prick. I was in a different place than I was a year ago, even six months ago. I was stronger. I didn’t need to live my life in fear of this man anymore.

  So, with Herculean effort, I dragged my gaze up to meet his. Theo looked much the same—tanner and a little thicker now that he had been out of jail for a few more months. But otherwise the same lanky frame, the same dark brown eyes, the same curled lip, the same inky black hair. His gaze traveled over me, but when it came back up, it was full of something I have never seen on his face: admiration.

  “What—what are you doing here, Theo?” I managed to get out with the stutter that had all but disappeared until now.

  Theo smiled. Once upon a time that smile would have made my heart beat faster, but right now it dropped like a stone. “Where’s the love, huh?”

  I folded my arms across my chest, praying that one of the PAs or someone would interrupt us as I stepped backward. “Y-you’re not supposed to be around me.”

  “Ah, ah, ah, wasn’t supposed to be around you,” he corrected me. “The judge overturned that pretty quickly thanks to your little dinner attendance, didn’t he? Of course, I’m sure my family’s fat contribution to his son’s state senate campaign didn’t hurt much either.” He clicked his tongue like he was chastising a small child. “Oh, Flower. You always were too innocent for your own good.”

  I opened my mouth to speak. Nothing came out. Was this for real?