Reel (Hollywood Renaissance 1)

He dips his head, disappearing beneath the cropped edge of my sweatshirt. His mouth opens over my breast and he takes me through the skimpy lace of my bra. His tongue is hot and wet and hungry on my nipple. He sucks hard, his teeth closing around the tight bud, sending a jolt through me that turns all the cartilage in my knees to mush. I reach between us and find his cock, hard, ready, huge in my palm. I tug once, twice, and again until he growls and straightens abruptly. He pulls my top down and into place, and much to my pussy’s dismay, withdraws from my panties.

“No.” He shoves his hands into his pockets. “I have plans.”

“But I have a bed.” I tip my head down the hall. “It’s a long drive to Santa Barbara. We could just take the edge off.”

“Neevah, no. I mean . . . yes. Hell, yes.” He drops a kiss on my forehead, wraps his palm around my nape. “But I didn’t wait this long for you to rush. I want this to be special.”

He angles his head so our gazes hold. “You are, special. You know that, right? I don’t do this. Everyone talks so much about Camille, but in my whole career, she’s the only actress I’ve ever dated.”

“She was special, too, then, huh?” I ask, holding my breath. Not that if he says yes it changes anything between us. I’m not above jealousy, though.

“Sure,” he says, nodding slowly. “But we weren’t right for each other. When I realized that, we’d already started. I had to shut it down. It was only going to get messier and more involved.”

“She loved you?”

His stare doesn’t falter, honesty on display. “She thought she did, yeah.”

“You thought you loved her?”

“I thought maybe I could, but I quickly realized I was wrong.” He takes a step back, giving me room to breathe. “If you have any reservations about this, I understand. I want you. I’m tired of fighting how much I want you, but I will respect your wishes, and it won’t affect anything in our working relationship. I promise you that.”

How could he think I could walk away now? I’m still wet from his touch. My heart is still thudding, scurrying around its little chamber like a trapped rabbit. And I still want him, not just the sex. Yes, oh my, yes. I want that, but I also want the secrets behind his guarded eyes; the sentiments locked away in his heart. And if I didn’t know before, I know now.

I’m willing to risk a lot to have it.

37

Canon

This is not how I saw this going.

We’ve been driving for twenty minutes, and I’ve been on the phone the entire time. Neevah knows I’m a workaholic, but I wanted to make an effort to focus on this, on us for a few days, and not think about Dessi Blue.

“You there, Canon?” Evan’s voice comes from my car’s dashboard.

“Yeah. I’m driving, on my way out of town, so you don’t exactly have my undivided attention.”

“We have to be back on set in three days. Where are you going?”

“Just to Santa Barbara for New Year’s. I’ll be back, obviously.”

“My invitation get lost in the mail?”

“Private party. Just me.”

It’s not exactly the truth, but the last thing I need is one of Evan’s “keep your hands off the actresses” lectures.

I glance over at Neevah in the passenger seat. She’s pouring over her script and doesn’t seem to even hear me. So much for us leaving work behind.

“Could we wrap this up?” I ask. “I have just a few days before the holiday break is over. I’m trying to unplug.”

“You have a plug? I would have pulled it years ago had I known.”

“So the permit for that site fell through,” I say, ignoring his jabs and returning to the reason for the call. We’ll never get off the phone if I don’t.

“Right. Henry sent over a few other possibilities,” he says of our locations manager.

“Like what?”

“Westward Beach.”

“Hell. We may as well film in my backyard. That would be less familiar. I don’t want to sell Westward Beach as the French Riviera.”

“We don’t have much time. We want to be on location in a month. Don’t shoot down every suggestion.”

“I promise to only shoot down the ridiculous ones.”

“You’re getting in that mode when nothing’s good enough.”

“No, just bring me better options. Damn, Evan.”

I feel Neevah’s eyes on me now, and I don’t want to have this conversation with her in the car. She’s not just my . . . shit, what are we calling each other at this stage? But she’s also an actor in this film. We try our best to shield our cast and crew from the behind-the-scenes madness producers deal with.

“Hey. Lemme get where we’re going and I’ll call you tomorrow.”