Beautifully Broken 2.5: Until We Burn

Tally pretended not to see as Abbi knelt in front of me, not once, not twice but three times during the eleven hour flight. It was nice at the time, of course, but after arriving into Heathrow at 6am without a wink of sleep, I decided to check into my hotel and get a couple hours of shut eye.

Of course now, three hours later, it’s time to get up and I feel worse than ever. I probably shouldn’t have slept at all.

I grab my phone and punch in Tally’s number.

“Dude, I can’t get up,” I groan. “Postpone the promo shoot, would you? I need to sleep.”

Tally sighs. “Stop acting like your brother. Sin always does this shit to me. Get your ass out of bed, take a cold shower to wake up and get here. You’re already five minutes late.”

He hangs up and I throw my phone. It hits the wall and slides to the floor, apparently unbroken. I should have thrown it harder. Fuck this shit.

As I head into the shower, I grab the room’s phone and dial the front desk.

“Send up a Blood Mary,” I tell them without preamble. “In fact, send two.” I don’t wait for a response before I hang up.

When I step back out of the shower ten minutes later, two icy cold Bloody Marys are waiting for me on the table in my sitting room. I already feel better from the cold water. But the Bloody Marys make me one step closer to human.

Not close enough to deal with Amy’s drama this early, however. Her name flashes on the face of my phone and I wonder if she has already arrived. I vaguely remember Tally saying she’d be a day late.

I let it go to voicemail.

She calls right back.

I let it go to voicemail again.

She’s got to learn that I won’t drop what I’m doing for her. I’ll never do that. I don’t care who she is.

When I’m in the car riding to the set, I listen to her voicemail. In the first one, she’s snotty.

“Dom, where the hell are you? I know you’re on set, so I know you have your phone. Answer it.”

I’m rolling my eyes as I listen to her second message.

“I’m sorry, babe. I was being bitchy. I’m bitchy when I’m tired.” And hungry, anxious, bored, calm, or otherwise, I think. “Anyway, I just wanted you to know that I can’t wait to see you. I’m getting in later tonight. Let’s have a late dinner, OK? Talk to you soon. Kisses.”

I sigh as I slip my phone back into my jacket pocket.

She’s starting to get clingy. They always do. And I had really thought that with Amy’s prickly personality, she wouldn’t. But here we go. The same old song and dance. I know how it ends and it won’t be pretty. But it won’t end yet. I’ll get what I can out of it while it lasts.

I close my eyes for a few minutes, until the car glides to a stop. I glance at the window and sigh. Fans are already lined up. How they know where I’ll be, I don’t know. This is just a promo shoot, for God’s sake.

But I paste a smile on as I step outside of the car, as the fans scream and faint and try to touch me.

Sign myshirtDominicSignmyboobsDominicCanIkissyouPleaseDominicTakeapicturewithmeDominic!

Dominic! Dominic! I love you, Dominic!

Their voices blend together as security pushes them back and ushers me through the masses, through the sweat and perfume, and into the building. I take a deep breath as we step into the silence and I don’t glance back. I know what I’ll see.

People scrambling to get another glimpse of me, hoping that I’ll come back outside. They don’t even know me, but they think they do because they’ve seen me on-screen so often.

My fans are why I am so successful. I know that. And I appreciate them. I do. But I’m an intensely private person and having people tear at my clothing unnerves me in a way I’d never thought possible.

But in order to avoid looking ungrateful, I grin and pretend it doesn’t bother me. I flash the sexy smile that the world recognizes as mine.

They don’t have to know that it’s a mask, that it’s all an act.

I’m an actor. They should expect it.

*******

“I want to see the Tower of London this time,” Amy demands as she takes a bite of cracker slathered in caviar.

I stare at her. “Aren’t you worried they’ll keep you in it? They’ve confined witches in it before.”

Amy stops chewing for a moment, her blue eyes astonished. Then she laughs.

“You’re such a dick, Dominic,” she chuckles, leaning over the sofa arm to slide her fingers along my cheek. “But that’s why I adore you. You say what you want to say to me.”

“I just call a spade a spade,” I shrug. “You know you’re a bitch and you don’t care. It’s one of the things I like about you.”

She eyes me, her expression hardening a bit. “You like about me? I just said I adore you. And you like me? What the hell, Dom? I’m not feeling the love from you lately.”

And here we go. I knew this was coming.

I set my whiskey tumbler down and level a stare at her.

“Amy, you knew going into this what I’m like…. What I’m after. I’m not after a relationship. At all. I like you. I respect you. I enjoy having you in my bed. But love? That’s not who I am, Amy.”

She leans back, her eyes narrowing now, but filled with amusement.

“That’s what you think now,” she tells me knowingly. “Just wait.”

“For what?” I raise an eyebrow. “Until hell freezes over? Because that’s how long you’ll wait if you’re wanting more from me than what we’ve got.”

She shakes her head. “Whatever.” She waves one hand, the diamond rings adorning her fingers sparkling in the dimmed light of my sitting room. “I’m going to be jetlagged. So I should take a sleeping pill and go to bed. But first, let’s go to bed.”

She stares at me, her gaze turning dark and sultry, as she stands up and slowly begins shrugging out of her clothing.

I lean back in my seat and enjoy the show.

Half of Amy’s body isn’t real… it’s been enhanced by plastic surgeons. But because of that, it’s perfect. Her tits are large and round, her n**ples pointed to the sky. Her stomach is perfectly flat, her h*ps swelled to perfection. Due to liposuction, there isn’t one trace of fat on her.

She’s unnaturally perfect. I personally prefer real curves, imperfections and all.

But I don’t say that. Instead, I just enjoy the show.

Bending over in front of me, she slides her panties off and tosses them into my lap. I pick up the lace with one finger and hold it to my nose, inhaling it.

“You smell good,” I observe.

She smiles.

“You know I do,” she purrs, gliding to my side and dropping onto my lap. Reaching into her nearby purse, she pulls out a pair of padded handcuffs.

“Get on your bed, Dom,” she commands. “I want to be in charge tonight.”

It’s a good thing I’m in the mood for that. Lying back and zoning out… letting the intense feelings of pain and pleasure blend together until I can’t tell one from the other?

Yes, please.

“Fine,” I smirk, as I get to my feet and head for the bedroom. “But stay the hell away from my n**ples. If you pull that nipple clamp out of your bag, so help me, I’m out of here.”

“This is your room,” she points out dryly.

“Whatever. Then you’ll be out of here. And I won’t give you time to put your clothes on, either.”

She giggles now, unconcerned.

“You’d like that, you freak. Watching me strut down the hallway nak*d, with everyone watching me? I know you’d love that.”

It’s true. I would. And I’d also like to watch.

“Don’t blindfold me,” I instruct her as she folds her body against mine and begins to unbutton my shirt with experienced fingers. “I want to watch your tits as I lick you.”

She sighs into my mouth, her tongue plundering my own. She tastes of vodka and caviar.

“Lick me from back to front and everywhere in between,” she tells me. “And then,” she pauses as she reaches one more time into her bag. She pulls out a pierced dildo, ten inches long and pierced through several times, Prince Albert style. “And then f**k me with this. After I unlock your handcuffs.”

“Consider it done,” I murmur huskily as she snaps the manacles around my wrists. “And you’re a f**king freak, too.”

“That’s what you like about me,” she whispers as she crawls over me and arches her h*ps against my lips.

That’s true. It is.

Amy grinds into my face and I absorb her taste, her smell. She bends backward and rakes her fingernails into my thighs, hard. I’m sure she drew blood, but I don’t care. I’m already at the point where the lines between pain and pleasure have blurred.

I know that tonight will be spent in just such a place, a place filled with varying shades of gray, where no guilt or worry lingers. Memories from my past will be gone, guilt from my past nonexistent.

Just for tonight. It can all resume again in the morning, but for tonight, I’m going to enjoy every kinky hour of oblivion.

There will be no blacks, no whites, and no rights, no wrongs.

I’ll do what feels good, without regard to what society might think.