Текст книги "Child Star: Part 2 "

Автор книги: J. J. McAvoy

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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 7 страниц)

“Get dressed, and I’ll get you all out for the best breakfast in town,” he winked at me, closing the door behind him. I let go of Mayko, who only leered at me.

“I like him,” Antigone said, walking toward the closet.

“None of my stuff is in there—”

“What do you mean?” she questioned, lifting out a yellow dress of mine.

What? This was still Noah’s room.

Rising from the bed, I moved into the closet right beside her, and there, next to all of his leather jackets and button-down shirts were my clothes, which took up two-thirds of the closet. Even my shoes were all lined up perfectly.

I wasn’t sure if it was Ollie or Noah, but I didn’t care. Just seeing something as simple as a closet made me feel better.

Heading into the bathroom, it was the same thing. All my facial cleansers, lotions, and perfumes were sitting on the counter, and I knew that it was Noah. I had a system for setting up my bathroom, and Ollie knew it already.

This was all Noah.

We’d be in Chicago filming for a few more weeks. This suite was his home away from home, and he had actively moved me into his life.

It really was the little things that mattered.

Chapter Eight

Amelia

“You can open your eyes now,” he said to us.

Dropping my hands, I’m not sure what I expected to see, but shiny stainless steel pots and a freshly polished flatbed fully stocked with vegetables inside the hotel kitchen was not it. I glanced over to my sisters, who looked just as confused as me.

“I got it,” Mayko said, clapping. “You hired a personal chef to make us our breakfast?”

“Close,” Noah answered, reaching for a folded apron on the countertop and tying it around his waist.

“You? You’re cooking?” I’d never seen him cook anything. I’m not even sure I’d seen him operate a damn microwave.

“Doubting Thomas, please take your seats, and prepared to be amazed.” He motioned to the stools on the other side of the tables.

Each one of us made a face as we took our seats—me in the middle, Antigone to my left, and Mayko to my right.

“What’s on the menu, Chef Sloan?” Antigone sat up, her elbows on the table. She reached for a piece of bread, but he smacked her hand with a wooden spoon.

“You’ll regret it if you eat now,” he uttered softly, his eyes never leaving hers, that devilish smirk of his stuck to his face.

Antigone slowly sunk back into her seat, holding the hand he smacked to her chest, like he had rewarded her. Snapping my fingers in front her face, she shook her head clear.

“You were drooling,” Mayko teased. But she shut up the moment he stepped up beside her, taking her hand and placing a champagne flute in it. He held on to it as he poured the chilled sparkling champagne, never letting go, even when he switched to get the orange juice. He smiled at her, filling her glass up to the rim.

“Who’s drooling now, bitch?” Antigone said. Mayko still couldn’t speak.

Noah, pretending he couldn’t hear us, skipped me and moved over to Antigone, repeating the same action. I’m sure some girls would have gotten jealous. I was trying my best not to laugh, placing my hand over my mouth. They were only being exposed to a fraction of his charm, and they couldn’t think straight. If they only knew—

“Hah!” I gasped, sitting up straighter as he came over to me. However, unlike with them, he pressed up against me completely, his lips right at my ear and his hands on either side of me.

“Drink reasonably, babe. Your fever finally came down,” he whispered into my ear. I shivered, trying to focus on anything but how close he was. That went out the window when he kissed my shoulder, though, and then moved back to his work station as if nothing had happened.

“I want one,” Mayko whispered.

“You already have a boyfriend,” Antigone reminded her.

“Not one like him,” she replied. I’m not sure what she was thinking, but she snapped herself out of it, turning to me and saying, “You think he’d give lessons on how to woo a girl?”

“Yes, because as actors, we have the luxury of time.”

“I’ll put it on my Christmas list,” she said seriously, and at that, Antigone and I broke out laughing. Mayko was one of a kind. You’d never guess she was actually studying to be a rocket scientist.

“He’s no joke.” Antigone said, nodding to Noah. He reached for two onions, slicing them into quarters, and then with a speed I thought was reserved only for master chefs, he chopped right through them. He slid them to the edge of the cutting board before reaching for two cloves of garlic, then fresh parsley. He went for the tomatoes last.

“Where in the hell did you learn to do this?” I asked.

“I acted in a small indie movie called The Vintage Cloud in Italy two years ago. I wanted to be authentic, so I took a few classes,” he answered like it was nothing, pouring olive oil into a cast iron pan. “How I became this sexy, well—that was just divine providence.”

“Careful, your head is expanding,” I said.

“Is it?” He glanced down at his crotch. “Excuse me, ladies. I really can’t contain myself sometimes.”

 Antigone and Mayko couldn’t take it anymore. They almost fell out of their chairs laughing. Meanwhile, my face was slowly getting hotter and hotter. Downing the mimosa, I couldn’t think of anything to say. Damn him.

 “Come on, Santa. Mama needs one of those,” Mayko lifted her glass to toast him.

“Neither of you are helping his ego right now,” I said, glancing back and forth between them.

“Didn’t you hear him?” Antigone joined. “It’s divine providence. Nothing can help contain that.”

Noah winked at me.

“Ugh, Amelia, why do you have to be Blair Hawthorne?” Antigone groaned, leaning to the side. “How the hell am I supposed enjoy the sinful sex life of Damon and Blair when my sister is the lead actress being whipped?”

“Don’t. I’m still sad,” Mayko replied.

“Thanks, guys,” I pouted.

Mayko leaned in on my right. “How much of it is real?”

“Since you guys are dating, is it acting or foreplay?” Antigone said, leaning in from my left.

Yep. My face was red. I could feel the heat in my ears. Meanwhile, Noah just slid his minced ingredients into the pan, the corners of his lips turned up.

“Foreplay,” Noah answered as I reached for the champagne. Screw the orange juice.

He continued, “But we don’t plan it out that way. We go to set, and we’ve read through our lines so many times by this point that they’re almost dull. But the moment the director says ‘action,’ you forget everything but what you have to say and who you are saying it to. Each line, every single touch builds up, and even though in the back of my mind I know I am not Damon Shaw, I, Noah, can’t help but get excited either. What was once a simple line or a slight touch becomes so much. The fact that I think your sister is the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on only makes matters harder for me. Whether the director says ‘cut’ or not, until I have her, until I’m no longer aching with the need of her, then I can’t stop. So, yes, it’s real, and yes, it’s foreplay—of the best kind.”

I crossed my legs, trying to ignore the aching I was currently feeling for him.

“Jesus Christ,” Mayko whispered.

Without missing a beat, Noah turned off the stove, placing a mat down in front of us before lifting the pan into the center.

“Here you have Egg and Tomato Breakfast Skillet,” he stated before stepping over to me, taking a piece of bread, dipping it the red sauce, and bringing it to my lips. He blew gently before lifting it for me to eat off his fingertips.

“Oh my god,” I said. It was amazing.

“Like I said, the best breakfast in town,” he smirked, brushing the corner of my mouth with his thumb.

“Don’t mind us. We’ll just eat our feelings,” Antigone stated, reaching for a piece of bread as well.

The both moaned, and I felt proud. I was happy they got to meet him, and most importantly, see him they same way I did. He was fucking amazing.

Noah

I knew I didn’t have anything to prove—Amelia would love me no matter what anyone had to say. But I wanted her sisters to like me anyway. Despite the fact that they each looked vastly different from each other, all three of them share a lot of similarities, and I could tell Amelia really, truly cared what they thought of her.

We had spent the day touring, Amelia and I disguised of course. That was a small price to pay for the amount of fun she had. With everything going on, I wanted her to remember her life, our life, and the people within it weren’t all bad. She needed a break from the constant shitstorm trying to rain on us, even if it was just for a day.

“Thank you for today,” she said, squeezing my hand as we walked to the awaiting car from the airfield. It was late, and her sisters said they’d prefer to head back to school. I was pretty sure they were only saying that because they didn’t want to intrude.

“No thanks required,” I replied.

When Daniel opened the car door for us, we slid inside, our hands never unlinking.

Silently, my thumb rubbed slow circles over her hand. When she placed her leg over the top of my thigh, I felt the excitement rising in the pit of my stomach. Releasing her hand, I slid up her dress until my hand rested on her smooth upper thigh.

I wanted her. It felt like it had been years since I had had her, and when she moved to sit in my lap, I knew she wanted me just as bad. We weren’t going to make it back to the hotel suite. I slipped the yellow strap of her dress off her shoulder, allowing me kiss her neck, my right hand grabbing a handful of her breast. Annoyed with the fabric, needing to feel her skin, I pulled the down the top of her dress, bra included, freeing her breasts.

“Noah!” she squealed as I pinched her nipple, tugging on it. She rubbed her ass on my cock, teasing me just as much as I was teasing her.

“Do you know how long I’ve thought about fucking you?” I asked, biting the top of her ear. “How badly I’ve wanted to bury my dick in your pussy, Amelia? I’m losing my mind here.”

She could only moan in response.

“Daniel,” I called out, not bothering to look away from her body, my hands sliding into her underwear. “Find a place to park and come back in an hour.”

Without question or hesitation, he pulled over. Leaving the car on, he stepped out. I really didn’t give a damn if he was in the car or not when I took her, but I didn’t want her overanalyzing this later.

Pushing down the rest of her dress until it and her bra sat around her waist, I kissed down her spine as she bent over as far as she could within the backseat of the Mercedes.

She turned back to face me, lust burning hotter than the sun in her blue eyes. Slowly she slid off my lap and onto the seat beside me. Undoing my pants, she reached into them and wrapped her hand around my cock.

“Can I taste you?” she asked, but she didn’t wait for me to answer. Instead, kneeling, she licked the tip of me, and my cock twitched against her tongue.

She licked my cock from top to base not once, not twice, but three times before taking me into her hot, soaking wet mouth.

“Jesus fuck, Amelia,” I hissed, brushing her hair from her face so I could watch as she sucked me off. Being in her mouth was the sweetest kind of torture. Reaching over, I lifted up the bottom part of her dress, exposing her lacy thong. As I pulled on it, she gasped, wiggling her ass for me.

SMACK.

SMACK.

“Ahh!” she gasped, breathing heavily.

SMACK.

 Her tongue wrapped around me as I thrust into her mouth. And it was like she knew I was barely hanging on and decided to step up her game. She sucked harder, her head bobbing up and down, all while massaging my balls in her hand. I could feel myself hitting the back of her throat.

Dear god.

SMACK.

I hit hard this time, enjoying the redness of her ass. Pulling her hair back, I forced her to release my dick, and when I did, I kissed her hard, tasting all of her mouth. She moaned in response, grabbing tightly on to my hair.

When we parted, her lips hovered over mine, a look of need on her face.

“Turn around,” I demanded, and all she could do was nod, giving me full access to her ass as she laid across my lap.

Rubbing it, I grabbed a handful of both cheeks, then slapped it hard.

“Ahh…” she moaned in pleasure and pain.

“Who do you belong to?” I whispered, my body shaking with excitement at her like this, completely under my control.

She glanced back as she gripped the door handle and said, “I belong to no one.”

She was toying with me, and this time when I smacked her ass, her legs shook and her toes curled, her mouth dropping open.

“To whom do you belong?” I asked again, and this time, she didn’t—maybe couldn’t—answer with words. Sweat clung to her skin, rolling down her neck. She was itching for me to touch her again as she sat up on all fours. But I wouldn’t until she answered my question.

“Who do you belong to?” I repeated.

“You.” She glanced back over her shoulder, her lips parting with another rush of pleasure as I simply touched her back.

“Please…Noah. Fuck me,” she begged, and there were no better words in the English language. Sitting up, she rocked her wet pussy over my cock. Holding on to her waist, I tried to control myself, but god fucking damn it, I needed her just as much.

Taking my dick in my hand, I pressed up against her red ass, rubbing slowly before finally thrusting deeply into her.

“Noah!” she cried out, grabbing the seat in front of her. Holding her hips, I didn’t move for a few seconds, allowing her to adjust to me, my hands working her hips until I could grab her breasts from behind, pinching her nipples as my thrust quickened and I fucked her like a wild animal, her breasts bouncing in my hands.

I couldn’t fight anymore. With each thrust, with every moan that escaped from both of our mouths, I wanted more. I wanted everything about her. I kissed down her spine as she called my name over and over again as if she were singing as I fucked her.

So…fucking…tight…

Somehow, we turned over, her on all fours in the backseat, me hunched over her on my knees.

“Amelia…” I couldn’t speak. She looked beautiful, sinful, but I couldn’t tell her, so I let my dick speak for me.

“Yes! Noah! Yes!” she cried, coming for me.

My vision blurred as I came closer, until—

“Fuck, Amelia,” I hissed, slamming into her once more as I too came.

With the little strength I had left, I pulled out of her, sitting back and pulling her onto my lap. She rested her head right under my chin, breathing in the smell of our sex as it filled the car, her heartbeat rapidly beating against mine.

“You … know what the … best part of all of this is?” she managed to say through deep breaths.

I kissed the side of her head. “What?”

“We get to go to work and do this all over again,” she replied, and I laughed.

When our lives weren’t shitty, it was fucking glorious.

“We owe a lot to this movie,” I told her, hugging to me. “Who knows where either of us would be without it? So in honor of Sinners Like Us, let’s fuck like champions.”

She giggled. “When don’t we?”

I loved her more than life itself.

Chapter Nine

Noah

I wasn’t expecting anything when we got to set the next morning. But the moment we entered the casino, the wave of applause confused both Amelia and me. Smiling from ear to ear, the director came over to us.

“If it isn’t the couple the world is talking about,” he said, lifting a magazine cover. There was a photo of Amelia and me making out in front of the Chicago police department, the words “Unconditionally in Love” captioning the picture. It wasn’t just that; apparently the premiere date of Sinner Like Us had been pushed up.

“December?” Amelia noticed too, taking the magazine from me. We were already stressing, trying to get it ready for Valentine’s Day next year.

“Midnight Empire Studios wanted to capitalize on your growing fame. I’m sure your agents will explain more when they are done screening your calls.” He put a hand on my shoulder and one on Amelia’s, saying, “Thank you for proving me right. Today, we will be doing a few interviews for the DVD before filming.”

When he let go, clapping his hands for the rest of the cast and crew, Amelia sighed, turning back to me.

“December?” she repeated again.

“What’s life without a good challenge?” I asked. I honestly didn’t care, as long as I was coming in to work with her every day.

“Mr. Sloan, Ms. London?” The executive producer, So Jim Zhang, stepped in front of us, extending his hand to shake ours. We all knew who he was, yet we had never really crossed paths before now. “I know it wasn’t intentional, nor was it under the best circumstances, but I have a feeling that this movie is about to blow up even beyond our expectations. My assistant will be the one asking you the questions for the DVD.”

“I’d rather count my money after the movie is released,” I replied, shaking his hand.

“We’re ready,” someone called, motioning to the chairs set up right in front of the Russian roulette table.

Amelia lifted the bottom of the long-sleeved backless black gown she wore in order to sit down. A slit on the side opened all the way to her mid thigh, as if being beside her wasn’t already tempting. When she smirked at me, I knew she was aware of what she was doing, and to push me further, she crossed legs. Since we had started filming, I had noticed a change in her: she was bolder, more comfortable with her own sexuality, and it turned me on to no end.

Sinners Like Us was the metamorphosis of Amelia London.

Unbuttoning my jacket, I sat down beside her, lifting my chin for the makeup artist and the hair stylist to finish their final touches. I was tempted to mess up my hair just to screw with them.

“Let’s start with you, Noah, and, Amelia, you answer afterward,” said the man in front us, looking at me. His voice would most likely be cut out in the final version. He was just there to help prompt us to speak.

“What did you first think of when you saw the script?” he asked.

“I thought, ‘I could do this.’ I didn’t even read it. I just remember seeing the title and knowing that if there was anyone in Hollywood fit to play Damon Shaw, it was me…unlike someone,” I coughed, and Amelia smacked my shoulder.

“Hey!” she said, making a face. “When I saw you right before casting, wasn’t I glowing with confidence? It was you who wasn’t sure if I could do it.”

“Touché,” I nodded. “I’ve been proven totally and completely wrong, though.”

“He might be biased, but never mind,” she said, focusing on the camera. “Truthfully, I was intrigued by the movie, but being so well-known as a child actress, I was initially worried about how this would affect my career. The day the cast list went up, I remember reading a petition to have me replaced, and under the worst photo they could possibly find of me were over ten thousand signatures.”

“Jesus, really?” I frowned, not remember hearing anything about that. “I do my best not to Google or read anything with my name on it.”

“Such a smart idea,” she laughed.

“What do you guys actually think of your characters, Damon Shaw and Blair Hawthorne?” the assistant asked.

“They’re fucking crazy,” Amelia answered.

“Are they, though?” I questioned.

Her eyebrow rose as she looked at me. “Scene nine,” she said.

I thought about that for a second, grinning, and nodded in agreement. “Okay, so they are fucking crazy, but that’s just part of their charm. I mean, to me, Damon Shaw is the epitome of the three Cs: cool, cunning, and confident. He’s always thinking about the big picture in order to get what he wants.”

“Meanwhile, Blair Hawthorne,” Amelia added, “is just this fiery volcano. She’s always active and is a creature of her passions. She may think she knows it all and oftentimes gets herself in trouble. But the thing about Damon and Blair’s relationship is that they always have each other’s backs no matter what. If Blair were to kill someone, Damon—without question—would hide the body.”

“On the flip side, if Damon were to go to prison for that murder, Blair would work out a full-scale prison break,” I replied

“Oh, if that happened, where do you think they’d run to? They’d be hunted all over the world?” the assistant questioned, sitting on the edge of his chair.

“Kazakhstan,” Amelia and I said at the same time, forcing us to look at each other and break out laughing.

“Why Kazakhstan?” I asked her.

“You first,” she shot back.

I shrugged. “I remember seeing it on a documentary called—”

“… No Extradition! I watched that same one!” she finished for me.

“Was Kazakhstan the only country on the list?” we were asked, forcing us to look away from each other for a second.

“No,” Amelia answered, glancing back at me. “Croatia was on the list, but I figured Damon would grow bored there.”

“Dubai was also on the list, but I thought Blair would drive Damon crazy complaining about the heat. So…”

“Kazakhstan,” we both said again.

“You both are so in tune with your characters. Is that just your skills as actors, or is there something about these characters specifically that captures you?” the man asked.

“I think they’re just fun characters that the writers did an amazing job presenting us with,” Amelia responded.

“Honestly,” I agreed, “the ease of the dialogue, the situations presented, even small comments from the director all make it amazingly easy for us as actors to step into Damon and Blair’s shoes and get carried away. They feel real.”

He signaled for us to close.

“I think the reason we all love Damon and Blair is because we relate to them. After all, there is a sinner in all of us,” she said, winking at the camera.

“Brilliant, thank you both.” He gave us a thumbs up, and Austin appeared beside me, a smug look on his face.

“What?” I asked.

He shrugged. “I was just listening, and I think that’s the most you’ve spoken in one of those interviews ever. You looked comfortable, too. It’s like a brand-new you.”

“Don’t you have calls to be making?” I tried to ignore his comment, though I did feel different.

“I made them all. The bad news is that you don’t have another day off until next year, but the good news is that your face is going to be everywhere.”

“Your eyes are becoming dollar signs again,” I said, snapping my fingers in front of him.

“Let me enjoy this. Three months ago, I was wondering how I was going to live.”

“I’m going to get back to work now,” I said with a laugh, glancing over to see Amelia laughing at something one of the crew members said.

You would never be able to tell that before Sinners Like Us, we were on the brink of disaster both emotionally and career-wise.

Moving to my position at the head of the craps table, I fixed the cuffs at the ends of my sleeves when Amelia joined me. She reached up to adjust my tie, neither of us speaking to each other. The extras stood around us.

“Remember, this is right before the climax. You all are completely at ease. Since we are redoing this scene, I’m sure we can capture it in one take,” Director Zane instructed not only us, but the extras as well, then took a seat behind the camera. He then raised his hand as if he were a conductor in front of his orchestra.

“And…action.”

“For luck,” I said, lifting the dice in my hand to Blair’s lips.

She rolled her eyes at me but leaned in, her breasts pushing up against my chest. But instead of blowing on them, she kissed my hand.”

“The moment you need luck, it disappears. So I’ll just bet on you,” she replied.

“Only with you is that a safe bet.” I never looked away from her and threw the dice down the table without bothering to watch.

“Twelve craps twelve come away triple!” the stickman exclaimed, the group around us shouting out in amazement at the pair of double sixes.

“What did I say?” Blair grinned as the stickman pushed the chips to us.

But before I could get a word in, the staff nearest the doors screamed, “RUN!”

But it was too late. I felt it, like a sonic wave of fire. The explosion threw me off my feet and backward.

My chest burned.

Blood—mine? I wasn’t sure—was on my face, mixed in with the ash.

I tried to stand, but my body screamed in agony.

Each time I tried to open my eyes, the world spun, and all I could see were blurs of red, orange, and black.

My eardrums were ringing—no, scratching—in my ears, and in between the pain was screaming ... screaming from all over.

“Help!”

“Someone please!”

“My leg!”

“Help!”

“AHH!!!”

“Oh God! Oh God!”

Rolling onto my side, I once again tried to open my eyes, again rubbing my ears. As I did, my body ground onto broke glass, tiles, and casino chips. When I finally could see, it felt as if I were staring into hell. The bodies of the guests were piled on each other in a bloody, ash-covered mess. The fire spread over the top of them, over everything in sight. As I pushed myself off the ground, my heart stopped when I realized no one was beside me.

“BLAIR!” I screamed, ignoring the pain and rising to my feet to look around the rubble. “BLAIR!”

My screams blended with the screams of everyone else. Everything was spinning. Wiping my nose with my hand, I noticed the blood.

“BLAIR!” I called again, turning to search through the rubble. Then I spotted a black heel—Blair’s heel.

My hands shook as I reached for it.

“This can’t be real. This can’t be real,” I whispered.

“Blair?” I started to clear the parts of the broken table with a bare hand, quickly. Throwing rubble to the left and the right of me, I crawled on my hands and knees as I searched, hoped, and prayed.

There was large gash across her head, blood coating the side of her face.

“Blair, can you hear me?” I checked for a pulse. It was faint, but it felt like it was slowing down. Taking off my jacket and using it as a towel, I held it to her head. “Blair, can you hear me? I need you to open your eyes, okay? Baby, open your eyes for me, okay? You’re fine. I’m here. You’re fine.”

I coughed as my lungs filled with ash and glanced around for anyone, anything that could help.

“Da—Damon?” she groaned, trying to lift her head, lifting her hands to where mine were trying to stop the bleeding.

“Thank God,” I whispered, kissing her forehead. However, her breathing quickened, her chest rising and falling. “Breathe, Blair, breathe.”

“Damon—”

She was in shock, and so was I, I but I needed her to focus. “Blair, I swear if you bleed out here and abandon me, I will never forgive you. And I will curse you at your funeral.”

She somehow managed to smile, reaching up to hold her head. “Don’t make jokes like that. They aren’t funny,” she said.

“I know,” I said as I brushed dust from her eyes.

“Damon.”

“What?”

She didn’t answer, her eyes wandering down to her stomach, my eyes following, and there we saw the piece of wood impaling her, the blood soaking through her black dress.

“If I die—”

“We are not having this conversation today,” I told her. “Let’s postpone it for another eighty or so years.” I pulled the wood and she bit her lip to stop from screaming when I tried to move her.

“It hurts!” she yelled.

“I know. I know. Baby, but we got to get out of here. I’d rather neither of us be cooked alive.”

“Ugh.” I coughed again, turning my head to the side.

“You need to get out,” she whispered, brushing the blood from my nose again.

I shook her hands away. “I will leave when you leave,” I told her.

“I can’t—”

“Blair! When I say I’m not leaving you, I am not fucking leaving you, do you understand me? Just keep thinking of tomorrow. We are getting a tomorrow.” Even my voice wavered at that. “The paramedics will be here any second.”

As if they heard, I turned and saw firefighters, the beeping from their jackets growing louder as they drew closer.

“What did I tell you?” My body felt so heavy.

“Damon!”

The last sight I saw was of her blue eyes wide, panicked and scared, tears falling from one eye over her nose and onto the ground.

“Damn, you’re beautiful.”

 “And…Cut! Perfect! Amelia, Noah, we’ll be heading back to the hotel to wrap up one more bedroom scene.”

The moment he said it, I opened my eyes again, coughing as I sat up, as did she.

“If we are ever in an explosion, ‘damn, you’re beautiful’ is the perfect line,” she joked, but I didn’t even want to think of it.

In my mind, just like Damon and Blair, we always had a tomorrow.

Amelia

“Act—ion!”

“I didn’t want to get out of bed. All of my muscles burned, and I swear to God, Damon, if I have to spend another day smiling and laughing with the rest of those goddamn elitist bitches, I will lose my fucking mind,” I muttered, burying my face into the red pillow on the amazingly soft king-sized bed.

“It’s noon, Blair. You can’t stay in bed all day.” I felt his hands softly brush against my bare back.

“Oh no, you don’t—”

Ignoring me, he brushed my hair to the side and kissed down the back of my neck. With one hand, he pulled the sheet covering my naked body away.

“Jesus Christ, Damon, do you have an off button?” I whispered, wiggling underneath his lips. I was still recovering from our last session together. The man could bounce back in ten minutes flat, and I was going to die from too much sex. They were going to have to put “Here lies Blair Hawthorne, Happily Fucked to Death,” on my tombstone.

He stopped, only for a moment, flipping me onto my back. Gazing up at him, he smirked, leering at my body. I knew that look. His eyes glazed over with lust, and my nipples reacted without him even saying a word.

“Damon…”

“I want nothing more than to fuck you until your eyes roll back, but … we have a lunch with a group of elitist bitches to get to. We need their help if we want to get in to see the private Botticelli art collection.”

I sat up in front of him and grabbed his chin so that he could look me in the eye and not at my breasts.

“I’m not going,” I said.

Again, he ignored me.

“Pick a dress, and be downstairs in an hour,” he demanded, getting off the bed.

Grabbing the red sheet off our bed, I stood up, wrapping it around myself. He raised his eyebrow, a small smirk on his lips.

“I don’t know why you bother,” he teased.

“It’s cold, and I’m not walking around naked for you because you piss me off. Nor am I going to your fucking charity lunch,” I said.

He stepped forward, and I took one step back. It wasn’t long before the backs of my legs hit the bed frame. Brushing his hand softly down my cheek, he stared into me, not at me. It was like he was seeing everything, and once again, I felt as though I couldn’t walk.