Текст книги "Fever dream"
Автор книги: Elsie Silver
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Текущая страница: 18 (всего у книги 24 страниц)
“Yes,” I reply, rising to the challenge in his voice as I impale myself on his impressive length with a sharp cry. The sensation of being so full makes my entire body feel hot.
I sigh in relief, finally feeling as close to him as I’ve been craving. Like my mind and body have needed this.
Needed him.
“Goddamn, Jules. You are fucking spectacular, you know that?”
My heart turns to mush at the mere sound of his voice, raw and brimming with wonder. He’s pulling me apart in the best way possible. He makes me want to stay in scattered pieces at his feet if it means he keeps looking at me like he is right now.
I fall forward as he moves inside me. His grip finds my chin, and he kisses me roughly, laying claim to me with his body. Giving me exactly what I didn’t realize I needed.
We move together with a tenderness that takes my breath away, his body molding perfectly to mine. The world shrinks until there’s nothing but the heat between us, the steady pulse of connection that runs deeper than skin.
“Jules, you terrify me. Needing you like this… it terrifies me.”
My heart clenches. “I know it does,” I confess, voice thick. Because I do know. I’ve seen what he’s lived with. I know his story. I understand him, and I don’t begrudge him.
“I think…” His voice trails away, eyes fluttering in pleasure as my body goes tight around him. He peppers languid kisses across my chest before quietly confessing, “I want to face my fears for you. Will you let me try?”
I kiss his neck, realizing that, in a way, I’m facing my fears with him too. “Over and over again. Until we get it right.”
I swear his entire body sighs in relief. He melts into me farther than I thought possible. Like he finally feels safe—wanted.
“Thank you,” he whispers softly, pressing his lips to my temple, body moving gently against mine like waves lapping at the shoreline.
Wrapped up in him—in us—I close my eyes and let go. Every fear, every doubt melting away in the wake of how completely cherished I feel. When he whispers my name, it’s not just a sound; it’s a lifeline.
We give ourselves over to each other.
And in this quiet, delicate moment, with rain falling against the window, I know we’re both exactly where we’re supposed to be.
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CHAPTER 34
Julia
FROM WHERE I’M standing in my small kitchen, hip propped against the counter, cup of piping hot coffee pressed between my palms, I watch Emmett.
Emmett. Here. In my space. Wearing only a pair of boxers.
I feel like I’m a visitor at a zoo, watching a rare and exotic animal. But it’s just me, in my condo, watching the WBRF’s most notorious playboy looking downright domestic.
The muscles in his shoulders bulge as he lifts a long, flat leaf from one of my favorite plants and inspects it with an expression of wonder on his face. “So many plants,” he murmurs, moving on to admire the one above it with long vines draping down over the shelf.
“Yes, some people have dogs or children. I have plants. I’m a weird plant lady. That plant you’re fondling? That’s Keanu Leaves.”
The grin he tosses me over his shoulder would melt my panties if I were wearing any beneath my soft, white jersey housecoat.
“Keanu Leaves? Well, who could blame me for fondling him then? Have you seen that guy? Aging like fine wine.”
I smile back at him like a total loon. The man fucked me silly. I feel like a little girl with a crush. If I were a cartoon character, they would draw me with literal hearts for eyes right now.
I clear my throat, trying not to scare him away with my stalker-staring vibes, then nudge my chin toward the counter. “There’s coffee here for you.”
“Thanks,” he replies as he goes back to admiring my plants, which is the perfect opportunity for me to admire his shoulder-to-waist ratio.
I sigh.
“Julia, if you keep eye-fucking me like that, I’m going to have to do the gentlemanly thing and lend you a hand.” He doesn’t even need to turn around. He just knows. I’m that transparent.
I scoff, feeling my cheeks go warm. “I bet you say that to all the other girls.”
He stills, and then he slowly pivots to face me. One brow is quirked but aside from that, his expression is deadly serious. “What other girls?”
I let loose another scoff. I must sound like I have some sort of affliction.
A nervous, awkward one.
“I was joking,” I tell him flippantly.
“I wasn’t.”
My throat works as I attempt to swallow the coffee in my mouth in lieu of spraying it all over my kitchen.
“We don’t need to talk about this.” My words come out rather choked, and I take a deep swig of my coffee to help—and just to give myself something to do. Because the way he’s looking at me right now is far too intense for my liking.
Emmett and his piercing stares are deadly at the best of times. But the intensity is borderline unbearable when it’s just the two of us standing face-to-face in my small condo. There’s no field or gravel driveway for me to escape to.
I’m just trapped. With him. And the elephant in the room. Romance Ranch.
“I think we do,” he replies pointedly, making his way toward me, prowling like he’s on the hunt. He takes a seat on the stool across the counter from me.
And then he just… looks.
“Are we having a staring competition?” I joke, trying to soften the tension that’s thickening the air between us. I’d rather just have more sex, not talk about the show and all the repercussions of this situation. As they say, ignorance is bliss!
But he doesn’t fall for it. He breezes right past it with a look of concentration on his face.
“No, I’m gauging what’s going on in your head so we can figure out how we’re going to do this.”
I blink. “What this?”
“Us, Jules. You and me. Catch up, would you?” He reaches for his coffee, but not before shooting me a lethal smirk that sends butterflies crashing into my ribs.
Did Emmett Brandt, playboy extraordinaire, just refer to what we’re doing here as an us?
I shake my head as though that will help me gather my thoughts. Because I am not the kind of girl who gets all frilly and excited over boys.
Alas, here I am.
“What’s going to be my reason I’m suddenly chaste? Something that Dick Wad will buy.”
“Chaste?”
“Yeah, they’ve been on my ass all season to be more physical with the daters. But I…” His hand scrubs against the stubble on his jaw as he stares off, considering his next words. He lets loose a dry chuckle. “It’s funny, actually. I came on this show under the pretense of meeting someone. I thought that was an impossible task. But I did.”
His eyes flit back to mine. Piercing. “She’s just not a contestant.”
I try not to squirm. Instead, I gnash my molars against the inside of my cheek.
“Well, she…” I shift my weight, fingers flexing against the warm ceramic mug. “Doesn’t feel it’s her place to weigh in on this particular subject.”
Third person, Julia? Really?
His brows jump up in amusement. “And why is that?”
Dropping my gaze and my voice, I confess, “Because she knows how much is on the line for you and your family and would never get in the way of that.”
When I peek back up, he’s regarding me with a different expression. Something gentler—sadder.
Clearing my throat, I continue—like a fucking dork, in third person, because somehow one level of removal seems to make this conversation easier to have. “I think she would want you to do whatever it takes to fulfill your contract and get every last payment.” I glance down into the cup of creamy liquid, thumb brushing against the smooth glaze before quietly adding. “She would harbor no hard feelings but would rather not know about whatever goes on.”
The longer I talk, the lower his brows drop on his forehead until he’s practically glaring at me. My stomach twists as I wait with bated breath for him to do something other than look murderous.
“Is she here in the room with us?” Emmett asks, voice dangerously low.
God, I regret talking in the third person right now.
“Why?”
He rolls his eyes at me. “Because I need to speak with her.”
A brittle laugh spills from my lips as I tip my head because this is ridiculous. I’m being ridiculous.
But that doesn’t stop Emmett from standing, rounding the kitchen counter, and coming to tower over me with all that warm, firm skin. My eyes land on his chest, a dusting of hair over his pecs.
“Jules,” he says, using his fingers to tip my chin up. His baby blues are there, waiting for me, and fuck if I don’t get lost in them for a beat. “This thing we’re doing. It’s not for show. And I won’t be doing whatever it takes to fulfill my contract. I will be doing the bare minimum, and whatever it takes to keep you. Just until this sham of a show is over. Then I’m all in.”
Blood rushes through my veins and pounds in my ears. God, he is so intense sometimes. It makes it too easy to gloss over the fact that this show isn’t over when filming wraps. His obligations extend out over a year.
But I don’t go there. We don’t go there. I just nod, feeling the brush of his thumb across the front of my chin.
“So I could claim I’ve found religion. Or say I’ve had some sort of moral awakening. Maybe I’m saving it for marriage now? I could even act like I’m favoring one woman and don’t want to betray her. Whatever it is, Richard will have to deal with it. I’ll show up for filming, and I will go on whatever outings they have planned for us, but anything beyond that…”
His thumb strums over my bottom lip, pulling it gently to the side as he stares at my mouth. “Anything beyond that is simply off the table. You got me?”
My tongue darts out, his gaze following the motion. “I got you,” I say back, the words weighing a little more in their duality.
I’ve got him.
“Good, because I think I need to be gentlemanly and lend you a hand like I mentioned before. Gotta keep you satisfied. I can’t have you eye-fucking me like this on the set.”
I suck in a breath, my body arching toward him on instinct. My skin sizzling under his threat. “It’s going to take more than a hand, Brandt.”
A slow smirk curves his lips. “Wanna bet?”
My heart gallops in my chest as my core clenches. He’s electrifying when he weaponizes that mouth. “Bet.”
In a flash, he steps behind me and uses a flat palm at the small of my back to bend me over the kitchen counter as he flips up my robe and sucks in a breath right as I do. Cool air and the weight of his gaze on my ass set me alight.
“But, Jules, we really got to keep this under wraps on set. Need to keep them off our trail.”
“I know,” I breathe, arching my back, silently begging him to stop talking about the show and put his hands on me instead.
“I know you know. I’m reminding myself. Because you are so goddamn distracting that I can barely focus most days,” he mutters gruffly. And then, “Fuck, you’re pretty like this. Spread for me.”
With a disbelieving chuckle, I drop my head against the countertop, push up onto my tippy toes, and step out, widening my stance. Baring myself to him.
“Fuuuck.” A deep, appreciative groan echoes from behind me. The sound of it—of him—hums through my marrow and makes me smile against the cold granite.
Then Emmett makes good on his promise.
And it only takes one hand.
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OFFICIAL MEMO
To: Richard Wadsworth
From: Teri Baker
Subject: Fifth Elimination Ceremony/Unexpected Departure
We postponed our elimination ceremony due to a conflict at the rodeo. Emmett has officially eliminated Akira. Her father’s disapproval during the meet and greet made this the obvious choice.
Due to that same conflict Emmett was unable to meet with Evelyn’s family so she has been awarded an extra one-on-one date to make up for that lost time.
This development caused tensions to boil over between Jada and Evelyn.
Jada confronted Evelyn about being a “producer plant” based on how things played out last night with Emmett clearly refusing to redo the take and the producer interference that followed.
Jada packed her bags and left despite my and the night producer’s assurances that she’s important to Emmett. We are now down to two daters: Catherine and Evelyn.
I do believe some of the footage can be massaged and used for television if we get creative.
We may want to film this week’s one-on-one dates as though she hasn’t departed and then have the outburst be after Evelyn’s date and before hers. Making it appear as though it was time alone with Emmett that set them off rather than any accusation about the show itself.
Catherine has stayed quiet and clear of the drama. She might be the perfect balance to Evelyn as we head into the final. Will he pick the bitch or America’s sweetheart?
Jada’s unexpected departure leaves a hole in the schedule, though. My suggestion is that we give the cast and crew a two-day weekend before heading into the final week of recording.
One last observation: I had noted that Emmett and Julia were on the outs, but now I’m not so sure. He is back to searching for her off camera, and I have a sinking suspicion there is still something going on there, given his refusal to move forward with any physical contact. As of this writing, he has not come back to his cottage on set since yesterday.
We may need to increase outside pressure to keep him motivated through these final weeks.
Please advise on the best next steps.
Sincerely,
Teri Baker
Story Producer
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CHAPTER 35
Emmett
“NO, NO, NO, no, no. You put her harness on. And where the fuck are those mics? We’re losing good light here, people!” Richard barks from the side of the shot. He’s been on a tear for days and is clearly still seething over me fucking up the rodeo scene he tried so hard to produce.
The one where Evelyn was set to leap into my arms and kiss me in front of a crowd. And her family.
We had to rerecord the elimination ceremony a day later thanks to my early departure. And based on the way Richard has been treating me since, I would say that I’m still very much in the doghouse.
Pretty sure I’m going to be paying for that snub for the foreseeable future.
“The cameras are already rolling, for fuck’s sake! And none of you thought to bring backups? How long can it possibly take to fix such a simple piece of technology?” He rages on, waving sheets of paper in the direction of a frazzled-looking crew member who is handling the mics with shaking hands.
I grind my teeth and try not to turn my scowl on poor Catherine. After all, it’s not her fucking fault that Dick Wad is, well, a dickwad.
“May I?” I ask, gesturing to the harness, acutely aware of the fact that Julia is also on set watching. After all, there was an endless number of waivers for shooting at a zip-lining adventure.
“Yeah, sure, that’s fine,” Catherine says, with a soft laugh, indicating that she also finds this to be fucking absurd.
But Richard isn’t giving us much leeway. Since I refused to do a retake of that shot with Evelyn at the rodeo, I’ve been on his shit list. And he’s been finding every chance to get me to touch someone or stage moments where creative camerawork can tell a story that’s not true.
So while there may not be any kissing or any truly sexual contact, I know what he’s doing. He can create something out of nothing as long as I get down on my knees and make sure that Catherine is strapped in right.
I hate it. I suspect Julia hates it, but she’d never tell me.
She is grinning and bearing it at every turn. And when I ask her if I should stop, she always tells me to just keep going, that we’ll make it through. That she trusts me.
As I crouch and fall to my knees in front of Catherine, I hold out the harness for her to step into before pulling it up her waist and situating it neatly above her hips. I avoid as much actual physical contact as possible.
I try not to freeze up when Catherine’s fingers play with the neckline of my simple white tee. The contact feels a touch too familiar. Especially now.
“Hurry the fuck up!” Richard snaps as he storms over toward his staff member.
Then I sneak a peek at Julia, who’s wearing that same matching workout set she did the day she hiked Prickle Point by herself—and ended up bent over my kitchen counter.
Our eyes meet for a beat. Her expression is blank. She might be better at faking it than I am, because I’m certain my expression right now is pained.
Forcing myself to focus, I look back at the buckle before me, finishing the task at hand.
From above me, Catherine giggles.
“Something funny?” I mumble as I continue working at the straps. As soon as I’m done, someone professional will check them for actual safety, but I’m still putting on a good show of it.
“Yeah, what’s funny is that everyone seems to think you’re going to be able to pick a winner for this show when you’re clearly in love with her.”
Catherine doesn’t look at Julia, but she gives a subtle tip of her head in that direction.
I glance up at her, and shock must be clearly written across my face because she laughs again. Her voice is so quiet that I wonder if I misheard her. We may not be mic’d up right now, but the crew is all around us.
“Oh, you poor thing,” she whispers. “I do not envy you in this position. I’ve read about some sad shit, but this? This might be the saddest.”
I drop my eyes and groan out a pained chuckle because she’s on to me, and there’s no point in denying it. Plus, she doesn’t seem all that upset by the development.
“Sorry,” I say lamely. But I’m not sure what to say to a girl who spent weeks living on my family farm, doing daily activities, all to have me possibly fall in love with her—or at least choose her as the winner.
Catherine smiles. “Don’t be. It’s been… kind of a privilege to watch this whole thing develop. I spotted it early on and thought to myself, how unique to be on a show where we’re all looking for love, and there you are, finding it where you least expect it. That’s just how the world works, isn’t it?”
I stare at her dumbstruck. There’s a thoughtful, tenderhearted vibe about the woman, and I find myself flattered that she’s noticed the connection between Julia and me for so long.
It strikes me that maybe Catherine noticed before either of us did.
“Well”—I dust off my hands—“I don’t know what to say other than that I very much appreciate your mature approach to my being a fucking mess.”
She throws her head back and lets out a hearty laugh before dusting a bug off my shoulder, which I’m sure the cameras will twist into something far more than it is.
“Happy to be of assistance. Now, should we try these things out?” she says, tugging at her harness.
“For sure,” I reply, trying not to be distracted by Richard ranting and raving behind me.
“You’re done. Fired! We just missed that whole conversation thanks to your incompetence. Get the fuck off my set!”
My jaw ticks as I turn to glare at the man. But he doesn’t see me, instead he’s shouting at the drone operators to get close enough to capture audio.
The entire crew has resorted to keeping their eyes downcast, focusing on their tasks and trying to escape his scrutiny. Julia too. Which only makes me want to go check on her.
But I don’t. Instead, I focus on the person who has arrived to do our safety checks. And when all of that is set, we begin.
We glide from platform to platform. The crew relies mostly on drone footage and tactfully placed cameras. Mountain vistas stretch out below us, and gently burbling creeks spill over dark moss-covered rocks, the stream of water disappearing between thick sections of Ponderosa pines.
We hit the first platform before the drone catches up. I can hear Richard blowing another gasket, but Catherine doesn’t spare him any attention. Instead, she turns to me and whispers, “If you need help with Richard or getting in and out of your house or anything like that, just let me know. If I can’t find my own love story, I want to be able to tell my kids one day that I played a part in making a real one happen.”
I don’t know what I was expecting her to say after we launched across a deep valley with the wind in our hair, but it wasn’t this.
“Are you serious right now?” I can’t tell if she’s fucking with me. “This just seems… I don’t know. I’m suspicious after all the drama that’s unfolded with the other women. I—”
“Listen, Emmett, I came here because I had the time, because I was single. And because sitting in my house recording a true crime podcast with only a few weekly listeners was fucking depressing. I figured I had nothing to lose, and I don’t. And helping two people who do have something to lose make it work, well, that takes nothing away from me. If anything, it would bring me great joy to stick it to Dick Wad and Evelyn.”
My eyes bug out because that might be the meanest thing I’ve ever heard this woman say.
She only proves me right when she clarifies, “Stick it to them in a subtle and mature way, of course.”
The hum of the drone draws near and I catch sight of it speeding toward us. Part of me wants to laugh because this entire exchange is so absurd, but the other part is touched by her offer.
Plus, she seems to agree that Richard’s true and rightful name is Dick Wad, which automatically means we are on the same team.
Without a second thought, I reach forward and shake her hand. “Deal,” I say.
“Deal,” she responds.
“What did they say? Please tell me someone got whatever they were shaking on? None of you can do your jobs at all?” Richard’s seething voice echoes across the canyon and this time all it does is make me smile.
A smile that carries me through the rest of the date.
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