The Revenge Games Duet

by Kat T. Masen

  “I’m excited. We’re filming for three months in Sydney. I need to find me an Aussie husband.” She sighs.

  “Oooh... that would be nice.” I smile.

  “I love their accents.”

  “And the way they call everyone mate.”

  “So easy-going,” she says dreamily. “Like ‘hey, there’s a spider! No worries, mate.”

  “You lost me at spider,” I tell her, with a shake in my voice. “I’ll take my American boy.”

  “Your American boy, of course. Wesley Rich.”

  Josie stops filming, telling the both of us to relax while she joins Karl for a short break. As soon as she leaves the area, I finally chill with some more champagne and a few other actors that join us.

  After my third round of drinks, my voice becomes louder as we fight to be heard over the music. With a sudden urge to pee, I remove my mic and tell Scarlett I’ll be back.

  Somehow, I stumble my way to the bathroom, waiting in line and chatting with a few people.

  When I finish, my vision becomes hazy and I forget which way I have to go.

  “Jesus, can’t take you anywhere.”

  I hear his voice but can’t see him. When I turn around, he’s standing right behind me.

  “Oh… there you are Mr. Hussy,” I tease, placing my hands on his chest for support. “Let me guess... you’ve screwed a Playboy Bunny already. Wait... maybe two.”

  “You’re drunk.”

  “I’m right, right?”

  “I don’t like blondes or fake tits.”

  “That’s not what your mom said.”

  “What?” he asks in confusion.

  “I don’t know,” I mutter. “I had nothing to come back with.”

  “That’s not exactly a mom joke,” he chastises. “Stop drinking, okay? It’s like you’re nervous or something. In the limo you were all weird.”

  “No, you were all weird!”

  “Wait.” He pauses with a smile. “Another non-comeback?”

  “Logan,” I say in a soft voice, suddenly tired. “I just need an escape from reality. Three shots and I’m almost there.”

  He moves his head left then right, scanning the area then dragging me to a quieter section away from the bathroom. I notice his eyes appear slightly red like he’s tired or maybe it’s from the shots the Playboy Bunnies made him drink. “Are you drunk?”

  “I had a few. Not as much as you, though. I thought you told Ash you were laying off the drink because the tabloids said you had a drinking problem?”

  “Geez.” I lean on the wall, rolling my eyes at him. “Does Ash tell you everything? Don’t you have something better to talk about than me? What else does he tell you?”

  “I don’t know.” He keeps his expression blank. “Are you hiding something?”

  “Nope.” I hold his gaze. “I’ve pretty much told you everything. Wesley screwed some hookers, we’re pretending to be engaged for the sake of the show, and when I was eleven, I was the one that accidentally threw your ball over the school fence which got eaten by that psycho dog.”

  Logan stares back in astonishment. “That ball was signed by a soccer legend, and you threw it over the fence?”

  I lean in, playing with the lapel of his shirt, and sweetening my tone. “Accidentally.”

  “How do you accidentally throw it over?”

  With a pleasing smile, I alter my story to ease his pain. “My arm kinda slipped… over instead of under.”

  “You owe me,” he threatens.

  “Yeah, add it to the list, buddy.”

  “Buddy?” He raises his brow with a smirk. “I thought we had a deal.”

  Lowering my head to hide my grin, I cross my legs to ignore the delicious throb that began the moment he pulled me aside. Our petty arguments rile me up and now result in this—me wanting his tongue to run along the inside of my thigh.

  You did not just say that out loud.

  Shit!

  No, wait... his face remains the same.

  Stupid champagne.

  During my internal argument with my brain, Logan’s closed the gap between us.

  “The cameras have been following you all night,” Logan whispers courageously in my ear. “How will I get to prove my point?”

  This is it.

  There’s no cell between us to filter out the raging hormones.

  My body’s betraying me, calling out like a desperate whore. My brain is slower to come to the party, chilling in a hot tub telling all the rational voices to sit down and have another drink.

  “You know Karl? He’s easily distracted by good-looking men. Closet gay. When a model walks past him, he’ll forget I’m around. He chases dick like I chase chocolate.”

  Logan’s amused, shaking his head at my comment. “So, what happens if you want dick and chocolate?”

  “I’ve never been in that predicament,” I answer smugly. “Why? You got chocolate on you?”

  “Are you saying you want dick and chocolate, right now?”

  “How did we even get onto this?” I scratch my head, ignoring his cocky remark.

  “Nice segue, Chase,” he says with a broad grin. “What about your other camerawoman?”

  “Josie? She likes to talk… about her cats and her new boyfriend. He just moved in and told her he never expected to be around so many pussies.” I laugh instantly, remembering the moment Josie had innocently told us he’d said that. I swear she’s a virgin because the joke flew completely over her head.

  Logan tries to keep a straight face until something changes and his smile becomes a frown. “And Wesley?”

  “What does it matter?”

  “He’s your fiancé,” he states, dragging out the word fiancé like it fucking means something.

  “I told you. He isn’t,” I tell him for the millionth time. “You’ve got a choice, Carrington… prove your point or go run off with Ash and score some Hollywood bimbo looking to put an athlete on their resume.”

  He keeps his eye contact firm, then slowly, they move and trace my mouth. I can’t help but bite my bottom lip, attempting to control whatever the hell is happening between us right now. I’m semi-aware anyone can find us, including Wesley. But deep down inside, that possibility only adds to the thrill.

  “C’mon,” I push him. “What’s it gonna be?”

  He places his finger on my lips, lingering, then runs it slowly down my body, against my skin and between my breasts. I’m sure he can feel the thump of my heart as it almost bursts out of my chest from the nerves of being caught. He continues to move down until his finger has grazed between my legs causing me to suck in a breath.

  “You,” he whispers with fire in his eyes. “I choose you.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “The thrill of getting caught

  is a dangerous thing.”

  ~ Emerson Chase

  He presses his finger hard against my clit, only the thin fabric between us. I’m still holding in that breath, scared if I let it go my legs will fail and I’ll drop to my knees which happen to be at eye level with his crotch.

  Maybe that’s not such a bad thing?

  “Emerson,” I hear my name being called, and like a giant bucket of cold water being thrown at us, Logan retracts his hands and shoves them in his pocket.

  Scarlett turns the corner, looking slightly flustered. “We need to talk.” She realizes I’m standing with Logan and she’s quick to notice no one else around. I can see her mind turning, wondering what’s going on and why the both of us look suspicious.

  “I’m sorry. Did I interrupt something?” She hides her smile, eyeing me with curiosity.

  “Nope,” I say casually. “Logan asked for a room so he can screw a Bunny.”

  “Wow! Talk about throwing me under the bus, Chase,” he notes with dark amusement. “Excuse her. She’s chasing dick and chocolate.”

  My shoulders move up and down while laughing at how ridiculous that sounds.

  “Sounds like I’ve interrupted a fascinating c
onversation. Maybe I should leave you guys—”

  Logan interrupts Scarlett, “I need another drink. The Bunnies have the stamina of a... well... a Bunny. I’ll catch you around later, Emmy.”

  Asshole.

  Scarlett ushers me into her bedroom through a hidden stairwell behind the kitchen. Guests aren’t allowed upstairs, but she still closes the door behind us so we can talk in private.

  I’ve never seen her bedroom and even in my intoxicated state, I can’t help but utter the words “Wow!” a million times over. It’s huge. All white with a large four-poster bed in the middle of the room. Even her bed sheets look fancy with an intricate gold trim.

  A few pieces of abstract artwork hang on the walls which brings the room to life. I swear they’re couples in compromising positions but I’m drunk and have sex on my brain, so what would I know.

  “There’s not many people I trust, but I know you’re not like the rest of the fake people in Hollywood.”

  “Ah… thank you?”

  “My um… brother-in-law is here.”

  “Okaaay,” I drag, unsure of what that means.

  She shakes her head, almost in a state of panic. “You don’t understand.”

  “Of course, I don’t. You just said your brother-in-law is here.”

  “I’m in love with him, Em.”

  She crosses her arms, pacing back and forth at the same time I mouth, “Oh.”

  “Yes, oh. I’ve pretty much avoided him for the past few months since they had a baby, but my sister confided in me and told me they’ve separated. Things aren’t working out, and they both needed a break from each other.”

  “I’ve heard kids can do that to you.”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “I’m trying to, Scarlett, but I guess you haven’t painted the whole picture for me,” I tell her.

  “I made a move on him. When he first came here. It’s awkward between us and now he’s here, and single.”

  “I wouldn’t call him single. Is the separation final? People have breaks then realize they’re in love with each other again.”

  She nods her head in agreeance then quickly shakes it. “Morgan, my sister, she has a complicated life. Noah is... not so patient. I mean... he worships the ground she walks on but ever since she had the baby they’ve simply grown apart.”

  “That’s sad… for the baby.”

  “I know.” Scarlett lets out a frustrated groan. “Em, please tell me to get over this. I hate feeling this way. I avoid him at all costs, and when I’m forced to be around him I pretend like there’s nothing’s there. I’m embarrassed about what I did but... I don’t know. I haven’t even been with a man for so long because I just can’t get him out of my damn mind.”

  “Maybe you need a distraction fuck?” I suggest. “Like someone to just knock your socks off so you can move on.”

  She laughs. “I’ll cross Logan off my list.”

  I clear my throat. “Logan is single.”

  “You’re an awful liar.”

  “That’s the truth!”

  “Uh-huh.” She grins. “God, what do I do?”

  “Look, just have some wine and relax. You’re beautiful. Men love you. I mean, really, how good looking are we talking?”

  She grabs my hand and drags me outside the room and to the top of the stairs, the void opens to the main foyer where partygoers stand around. She points to a man positioned in the corner, chatting with some other men. It doesn’t matter which one he is because the three of them are as hot as fuck.

  The lighter-haired one is tall with a handsome face and sharp jaw—it’s like jaw porn. The darker-haired one is wearing glasses and is dressed in a plain white tee and jeans—totally glasses porn. The third one looks slightly older, dressed much smarter and looks like a model from a designer magazine—absolutely model porn.

  We’re standing a fair distance away, but even from here, I can see he has lighter eyes similar to those of Logan. Great, more eye porn.

  This party just got interesting. Now I understand her predicament.

  “Oh... you’re so screwed,” I say without thinking.

  “I told you,” she hisses. “What could be worse than this?”

  “How about almost fucking your brother’s best friend only to be interrupted by a friend who’s hopelessly pining for her brother-in-law?”

  She turns to face me, eyebrows raised, her eyes wide and full of shock. “I thought you guys were just flirting. You’re engaged.”

  “Nope. Wes fucked two hookers while snorting crack and everything you see filmed is a lie.”

  We both fall silent, staring into the crowd with heavy shoulders.

  “We’re both screwed.”

  “Yep,” I quip. “So, your brother-in-law?”

  “Noah,” she corrects me. “His nickname is Mr. Rebound. Before he met my sister he was known for preying on broken women.”

  “What’s new? Wesley does that now and he’s supposedly committed.”

  She bumps my shoulder, laughing then quickly apologizes. “We should probably head back. Your camera crew look pissed off.”

  “Will you be okay?”

  “Yeah, I don’t know. I guess I have to go say hello.”

  “I’ll come with you,” I offer. “You know, for moral support.”

  She chuckles. “C’mon.”

  We both step downstairs weaving in and out of the crowd until we’re standing beside Noah and his friends. I can see the awkward exchange between Scarlett and Noah, but move on as she introduces me.

  “Haden Cooper runs the publishing house who published my book,” she says proudly of the man wearing the glasses. “Lex Edwards owns a few studios in town and his wife is also my lawyer.”

  The older guy has these very green eyes, almost an emerald shade. It’s hard to concentrate and not be rude by staring at them.

  “And Noah is my brother-in-law.”

  “Nice to meet you all. I’m Emerson.”

  Haden snickers. “Oh, we know who you are.”

  I smile politely, holding back the flirtatious eye-batting. “Is that a good or a bad thing?”

  Lex bows his head, hiding his smirk while Noah stands there mirroring Haden.

  “Good,” Haden responds. “We’ll leave it at that since your fiancé is over there.”

  I turn my head to look where Haden’s pointing. Low and behold, Wes is surrounded by a group of people, mainly women, who are all desperate for his attention.

  “Ignore him, please,” I say bored. “Lord knows I do.”

  “So, Emerson’s here with her brother, Ashley Chase and his friend Logan Carrington.” Scarlett sways the conversation, detecting my annoyance.

  “I’d love to meet them,” Lex speaks up. His voice is so masculine yet smooth as silk. “I’m a huge Royal Kings fan.”

  “Sure, if you can pry them away from the Playboy Bunnies,” I joke.

  The three of them laugh. “Easier said than done, right?”

  I continue to chat for a few more minutes before Josie finds me and requests that I head on outside to film some additional scenes with a few Hollywood big names who are at the party.

  I quickly excuse myself, promising Lex I will find Ash and Logan and send them his way.

  We set up outside where I clip on my mic, and film for another hour. Our discussion revolves around weddings and my relationship with Wesley. I honestly couldn’t have thought of a more mundane topic, but Cliff gave the camera crew strict instructions to film me discussing my wedding plans. Fictional wedding plans since we aren’t actually getting married!

  I make sure I don’t have any alcohol in hand while filming, but when a waiter walks past with a tray of drinks I reach out and grab a glass, downing it in one go when Josie uses the restroom.

  This wedding talk does nothing to curb my anxiety. Every time I think about it, I resent Wes even more. I bet he’s not being filmed talking about the wedding because he’s a guy. Fucking sexist bullshit.

  Karl�
�s now joined Josie and asks me to walk through the house and find Wesley so we can finish up taping. I keep walking and stop just shy of the fire-pit where Logan’s sitting next to some woman. He hands her a wine, and despite the bullshit he said earlier she’s a fucking blonde.

  In the corner of my eye, I see his gaze shift to meet mine. I quickly move on, ignoring the jealousy building up inside me. You have no right to feel that way—ignore, ignore, IGNORE.

  Inside the house, Karl moves the camera around the room capturing what I’m witnessing. I continue walking, pretending Logan’s behavior doesn’t affect me whatsoever because it shouldn’t, and I’m terrified the camera will pick up my irrational emotions.

  Wesley’s moved to the main living room cozied up in the middle of women only. There appears to be no men around him, and oddly, it bothers me more than it should. I still care about him, and I hate admitting that.

  “Here’s my baby,” he slurs. “Come sit on my lap?”

  I don’t sit on his lap. Instead, ask the skank beside him to shove over.

  “Did I tell you girls how much I love her? She’s going to be my wife.” He laughs, grabbing my neck with his hand and pulling my lips toward his. I watch him pull back with mixed emotion written all over his face. “You smell different.”

  My instinct is to sniff my armpits, but the more he stills the more I become paranoid. I shouldn’t smell of anyone... Logan hasn’t been near me. Stop being so paranoid. “I’ve been mingling with everyone, hugging everyone…”

  He continues to watch me then follows through with a laugh. “Oh, yeah.” Sliding his hand up my thigh, he leans into my ear. “I don’t care what you want. I’m going to fuck you tonight.”

  “Stop it!” I tell him, pushing his hand aside. “You’re drunk.”

  He leans back in and I know the microphone can’t pick up too well over the noise in the room, but Wes strategically removes his mic.

  There’s a commotion near the entrance, a fight has broken out between two men. Karl turns to face them and film.

  Wes grabs my thigh, applying firm pressure. “You think someone else can touch you? Then think again. You’re coming home with me and the second we walk through that door, I’m going to take back what’s mine. I’m done waiting for you.” His demand to take me without my consent angers me beyond belief. How dare he! Wes thinks I so easily will forget what he did? I know I’m not thinking straight. I know the champagne’s not only expensive, but it is rather potent clouding any rational thoughts or any ability to remain civilized.