Текст книги "Take Two"

Автор книги: Laurelin Paige

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Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

Chapter Twelve

Maddie was pissed.

After a whole week of avoiding any Micah drama, he had to go and wreck it in the sweetest way possible with compliments and praise and long intense gazes. Seriously? What the hell was she supposed to do with that?

It had been bad enough when her attraction was all sexual, her body betraying everything her mind commanded. But after her encounter with him the night before when he’d said all those nice things about her film and had recognized very private things about her in her art, she had fallen, smack, head-over-heels for the guy. And that flippin’ sucked.

Now, like any lovesick fool, she could think of nothing but him. She kept searching for him during setup, kept looking off toward his trailer. Even that afternoon during her daily run, which usually distracted and calmed her, she could not rid her mind of Micah, Micah, Micah. Of course, it didn’t help that she continued her running course past his hotel. Because it was the best view, she told herself. Yeah, right. Damn, she had it bad.

Just get through the next two nights, she thought as she prepared her calculations with the stand-in. Two last nights of shooting before a whole day off. Then they’d be back to day shoots and everything would be clearer in the sunlight.

Getting through tonight wouldn’t be easy though. The scene they were shooting took place around a campfire. The unsteady light source was sure to play tricks on the focus and the dark night made it difficult for actors to hit their marks correctly. She threw herself into the preparations, double– and triple-checking each measurement, trying to foresee any possible change that might arise during filming. By the time the actors were due to arrive, she thought she actually had a good handle on the situation.

But then Micah appeared on set and she was a goner. He wore baggy jeans that hung on his hips in a way that got her juices flowing, and he had no shirt. God, he had no shirt. Was that in the script? She’d never seen his bare chest in person and my, oh, my, was it a pretty sight. His stomach was perfectly sculpted, his pecs rock-hard. The small trail of hair at his navel caused her core to clench. She longed to trace it with her fingers. Who was she kidding? She longed to trace it with her tongue.

Damn Micah Preston and his hot body.

Yep, she was completely pissed.

When Micah took his place by the campfire, it was even worse. His blue eyes smoldered in the low light and the flames, as they licked and furled unpredictably, seemed to echo the unstable electric pulses deep in her belly. He wound her up so tight and distracted her so thoroughly, how could she possibly make it through the evening’s filming?

And that was only the beginning of the disastrous shoot.

By the time they made it through one full take, there had already been three false starts and two “cuts” because of lighting issues. Beaumont had to be throwing a fit. Maddie was glad he was directing over the headset so she didn’t have to witness his displeasure. Even Joe, normally easygoing and laid back, didn’t bother to hide the tension, snapping and barking the directions he relayed to the cast and crew. Before an hour had gone by, everyone was in as foul a mood as Maddie.

With all the problems, the thing that continued to piss Maddie off the most was the actors. Well, one actor, who kept missing his mark. Micah had run his blocking perfectly during the run-through, but in every take thereafter he stopped his movement in the wrong spot. If he’d be consistent with the mistake it wouldn’t be that big of a deal, but it wasn’t even the same wrong spot. With the unpredictable fire, Maddie found it impossible to adjust to his mistakes.

“We’re out of focus,” Maddie told Adam in between takes. “Micah isn’t hitting his mark.”

Adam nodded and called Joe over, repeating Maddie’s concern.

“Micah,” Joe called out. “Where are you stopping on that line? Can you show me?”

Micah stood on his mark and Maddie ran the calculations again. He was in the right spot. Maybe she’d been the one who was wrong.

But when the camera rolled, he missed it again. And again.

“What’s going on, Maddie?” Adam asked after another nine takes. “Beaumont is going off saying none of the shots are in focus.”

Maddie cringed. She wished she had a headset so she could tell Beaumont he needed to take up the issue with his actor. “Micah’s still not hitting his mark.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” She usually didn’t get defensive with Adam, but this seriously wasn’t her fault. And Micah knew where he was supposed to land for his monologue. He hit it whenever they called him on it. So why did he keep fucking it up? Was he trying to piss her off?

Adam relayed the message to Beaumont over his headset.

“Micah, can you hit that mark again?” Joe said. “We’re still having a focus issue.”

Adam ran the shot then asked over the headset, “Was that good?” He listened then said to Maddie. “It’s good just like that.”

Maddie scowled. “Then get him to hit that when he actually runs the scene and we’ll be golden.”

“Okay, Micah,” Joe said. “You have to hit that exact spot or we can’t get the shot.”

“Got it,” Micah said. Did he just roll his eyes? Maddie wasn’t sure in the dark.

They ran the scene again with the same results: Micah missed his mark and the shot was blurry.

“Cut!” Joe said. “Hold for five. Beaumont’s on his way down.”

Maddie groaned. Beaumont only came to the set if he was really ticked off. Just what she needed—to be the source of his ticked-offness. He’d already ended any chances of her being a director in Hollywood. Would he now blacklist her as a camera assistant as well?

When Beaumont arrived he marched directly up to Adam and Maddie. “What is the goddamn problem?”

It wasn’t her place to talk to the director about actor issues so she swallowed the response she wanted to give and let Adam speak.

“Micah’s been missing his mark,” he answered, a lot more patiently than Maddie would have.

Beaumont called the actor over. “Hey, the crew says you’re having trouble hitting your mark.”

Micah’s eye twitched. “I’m not. I’ve hit it every time.”

Weeks of sexual frustration fed her work frustration and Maddie’s anger spiraled out of control. “You have not! You keep walking right past it!”

“Maddie,” Adam warned. The crew did not address actors. That was the director’s job.

Micah narrowed his eyes, but didn’t look at Maddie. “Look, run it again. It will be perfect. Like it’s been the last twenty times. You can see for yourself.”

Beaumont considered. Then he turned to Adam. “You run focus, I’ll shoot.”

Adam took Maddie’s place while Beaumont climbed behind the camera. They ran the scene again. Just like Micah said it would be, the scene was perfect. Maddie fumed. They ran the scene two more times with the same results. Finally, Beaumont called it a wrap.

Maddie watched as the crew began to clean up, frozen in her anger and humiliation and guilt. Adam—wonderful Adam who stood behind her and mentored her for years—pulled down to do her job because Micah Preston decided to be a dick. At least, that was the only logical conclusion she could think of.

She turned to the cameraman. “Adam,” she said, holding back angry tears. “He didn’t hit his marks when I was on focus, I don’t know why—”

“You know what, Maddie?” Adam interrupted, his voice low and rough. “I don’t care what the problem is or was or the why, but I’m telling you right now it better be fixed by the time you return to this set. I will not stand for that shit when I’m on camera, not even with you. You hear me?”

Adam had never spoken so harshly to her before. And the reason he was angry wasn’t even her fault.

“Now, get off my set. I don’t want to see you until call tomorrow.”

Dismissed from set. She had to set Micah straight. She spun around, searching, and spotted him walking toward the trailers.

“Micah?” She ran after him. She caught up with him as he approached his trailer from the back. “Micah?”

He turned to face her, an impatient expression on his face.

“What the hell was that?” she asked.

“What the hell was what?”

“Don’t play dumb with me. You missed your mark, and what’s more, I think you did it on purpose.”

“I did not.”

“You did! And when Beaumont took over you got it perfect. Which made me look like shit. What I don’t get is why.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I did the scene the same each time. If you’re feeling insecure about your work, that’s fine, but to blame it on me is real low.”

“Fuck you, Micah.”

“Whatever, Maddie.” He turned to walk away.

Her fury escalated. “Wait, I’m not done.”

He pivoted back on her. “By all means, Maddie, go ahead.”

Anger flooded her, so much that she shook. She pointed an unsteady finger at him. “You.” She stepped toward him, gathering her strength. “You’re such an actor. You charm and you play and you get into my head and jerk around with my emotions and my body. One minute you don’t remember me, and you’re rude and arrogant and then you’re thoughtful and intellectual and complimentary all the time parading around with your hot body and please-touch-me six-pack abs. Then you’re kissing me and stroking me, but oh, oh, oh wait! Nothing can come of this because, you know, ‘I have rules.’”

He snorted. “This coming from Miss Leave-Me-Alone-While-I-Give-A-Handjob-Under-The-Table?”

Maddie had never felt so outraged in her life. She rushed at him, placed her hands on his bare chest and shoved with all her strength.

It felt so good to unleash her fury. She raised her arms to shove him again. But he grabbed her at her wrists before she could. Then he pulled her to him. In an instant, he was on her—his mouth, his tongue—kissing her with a fire and passion she’d never felt in a kiss before.

And she responded with equal fervor, her fingers clawing his rock-hard pecs. It was all-consuming, her pent-up desire met with his, and she was immediately lost in his touch, his taste, his scent of sweat and makeup and campfire. Two weeks and seven years of longing had led to this moment and she no longer cared about what would happen after, just the now. She couldn’t get enough—she wanted him. All of him.

Micah wanted more too. He pushed her against the backside of the trailer, pinning her with his leg, the now familiar ridge in his pants, hard against her thigh while he fumbled at the buttons of her shirt. She was vaguely aware of her shirt falling to the ground as he undid the closure of her jeans, releasing the edge of her tank top. Then his hand was underneath her top, caressing her breast. She leaned into his palm and moaned against his lips. His other hand moved lower, slipping under the band of her panties to reach the center of her want. Skillfully he touched her, circling his thumb against her sensitive bud, sending electric shocks throughout her body.

And then he went even lower. First he eased one finger into her. Ecstasy. She almost came undone right then as she clenched around him, wet and hot. He pulled out and she arched to follow him, not wanting him to stop. He met her motion with two fingers, plunged deeper this time, all the while rubbing her clit.

He continued to finger her, massaging her in and out, while she struggled with the fly of his pants, freeing his hard, thick staff. She stroked him as he throbbed in her hand, causing him to utter a deep, lustful groan.

Somewhere in her head her conscience tugged for her attention, shouting at her to stop and think about what was happening. She was about to do it with Micah Preston pressed up against the back of his trailer. Was this really how she wanted sex with him to go? In a public place where anyone could walk by at any minute? Did he even have a condom? She sure as hell didn’t.

But her body’s heightened sense of arousal drowned out any common sense. Clutching to his back, she wrapped a leg around his waist and he removed his hand from her breast to help hold her up. His other hand left her southern region, the sudden absence of his probing almost painful, and he lifted her other leg around him.

Condom! Her conscience screamed at her.

Then all thoughts and sensations were interrupted by the sound of voices and approaching footsteps.

“Fuck!” Micah slapped the back of the trailer, dropping her gently as he did.

She bent over for several seconds, her hands resting on her thighs, before her breathing slowed. She could hear Micah next to her, breath also ragged as he fumbled with his zipper. She found herself able to move again just in time for Sam and Chloe to round the side of the trailer.

“Micah,” Sam said as Maddie turned away and fumbled with her pants. “Beaumont’s looking for you to go through those shots.”

“Yeah?” Micah stepped in between Sam and Maddie, shielding her as she straightened herself.

It almost made her laugh. She’d left visible scratches on his still bare chest and he was hiding her for propriety’s sake?

Besides his action didn’t impress her. She was hot for him, yes, but with the passion of the moment gone, her anger returned full force, rolling through her like an avalanche. What the fuck was she doing kissing the man who had screwed with her on set? Did she have zero self-respect? Had her usual professional demeanor disappeared just because Micah had some sort of magnetic pull on her vagina?

No more. She had said this before, but now she meant it. She had to mean it if she wanted to keep working in her field. First thing tomorrow she would lodge a complaint. Not that Beaumont would care, but if she told Joe, maybe he could control his actor. She grabbed her shirt off the ground and brushed past Sam and Micah.

“Hold on a minute, Sam. Maddie!” She kept walking and Micah called again. “Maddie!”

She didn’t turn around, couldn’t turn around, but put her hand out to her side in a wave as she continued walking away from the trailers, away from the heart-crushingly gorgeous man behind her.

Chapter Thirteen

Micah crouched in the trees, watching as Maddie ran up the road by his hotel. He’d spotted her when she was still a speck at the bottom of the hill and knew it was her, recognized the movement of her body from seeing her run around on set. He watched through the dark lenses of his sunglasses, enraptured as she neared him, her firm legs striding easily up the hill, her breasts bouncing rhythmically in her light blue sports bra. His cock stiffened at the sight. Fuck. That was going to make his next move real uncomfortable.

After she passed him, he counted to three before he pulled his baseball cap lower on his head and jogged to catch up with her.

“Hey,” he said when he’d reached her side.

She pulled her ear buds out and looked at him. Realizing who he was, she jolted. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Yeah, she was pissed. He knew she was. He’d tried to find her before he left set the night before with no success. He’d called her cell phone. No answer. He’d called her room. Again, no answer. When he awoke that morning he had tried again. Still no answer. She was avoiding him. Why was he surprised? He had seriously fucked up with his behavior on set.

He had to talk to her, had to apologize, and since she was avoiding him, he’d have to resort to other methods. Including running. “What? I’m just getting some exercise. Enjoying the scenery.”

“Then you can do it someplace far away from me.” She looked both ways down the street, then started toward the other side.

“Wait.” He grabbed her wrist.

Yanking her arm away, Maddie turned on him, venom in her voice. “Don’t touch me!”

“Sorry, sorry.” Her response to him—as if his touch was loathsome—felt like a knife in his chest. “I’m sorry. I need to talk to you. This is the only way I knew how.”

She shook her head, her jaw set firm. She didn’t speak but resumed running her original course.

Micah took that as a good sign and fell into a run beside her. As he adjusted to her stride—a punishing pace at this altitude—he tried to think of what to say. He had thought the right words would just come, that he’d be able to explain his actions. But now that he was with her, all he could think about was what had happened after the shoot, when her body was beneath his and his mouth and hands were everywhere on her.

And then she was gone, leaving him with her scent in his nose and a hard-on in his pants. When he spoke, that was what he asked about. “What happened?”

“When? When you fucked with my focuses?”

Even though she didn’t look directly at him, he felt the daggers in her eyes. She had been mad last night too, but then they had kissed and so much more—didn’t that mean anything?

“Did you really think that groping me against your trailer changed that you pretty nearly lost me my job?”

Shit, did she just read his mind? Truth was he’d hoped that kiss changed everything. Obviously not. He had to come clean. “Okay.” He spoke in short sentences, the only way he could speak as they climbed the mountain. “I missed my mark.”

“On purpose?”

He didn’t do it on purpose, at first. It was dark and he was distracted, as usual, by Maddie, who was ignoring him. So missing it was a natural mistake. But after that… He lowered his eyes. “Yes. I missed it on purpose.” There. He’d confessed. Why was that so hard? She already knew. “I’m sorry.”

She stopped running, her ponytail hitting her in the face as she spun on him. “You’re sorry?” She stepped toward him, hands balled at her hips. “That’s all you have to say?”

He raised his brows. “I’m very sorry?”

She whipped away from him and started walking up the mountain road. “You’re such an ass. You ask me to respect your career but you can’t respect mine?”

Man, she was hot when she was angry. Hotter than anyone had a right to look.

He followed her, grateful for the easier pace. “I know, I know. It was shitty.”

She didn’t speak and he felt helpless in her silence. He wished to God he could take back his actions, wished he could go back to—to what? Avoiding her? Ignoring her? Chasing her?

He’d been a shit to her all around. He removed his glasses and hung them on his shirt. “I’m really very sorry,” he said softly.

She glared at him sideways. “Why?”

He creased his brow. “Why am I sorry?”

“Why did you do it?” She swallowed and he suspected she was choking back a sob. “That was one of the absolute meanest things anyone’s ever done to me.”

His heart dove into his stomach. He could deal with her anger, but her pain tore him to pieces. “I know. God, Maddie, I know.” He ran his hand through his hair, trying to divert the frustration at himself into the action. He had hurt her. Fuck! Hurt her bad.

He hadn’t given her a reason and she was waiting. “I don’t know why.”

Actually he did know why. He saw how his mistake affected her. How an easy little change in his blocking got her up in arms and made her pay attention to him. He knew she was getting heat for it, that he was messing with her in a way that was not only unprofessional, but also seriously shitty. But he couldn’t help himself. He craved her attention, and he’d take it any way he could. “I guess I wanted you to notice me.”

She glared at him full on. “Notice you? You narcissistic little fucker.” She turned her attention back to the road in front of her. After several steps she said, “Like I’m not completely one hundred percent aware of your presence at any given moment?”

He grinned. “You are?”

“Don’t,” she snapped. “Don’t be cute.”

He tried to erase the glee from his face and took a deep breath. “Look, you’d been ignoring me all week. And after the night with your movie, I thought maybe things would be different since, you know, we’d talked and…”

“And for once you didn’t try to get down my pants?”

Well… “Yes.”

“Wow, you deserve some sort of award for that. Were you pissed that I didn’t acknowledge your accomplishment?”

“No, Maddie, I’m pissed that I can’t be with you.” He stopped walking, stunned at his honesty. She stilled too, but didn’t face him, which was for the best. It was easier to say what he needed to without the anger shooting from her gaze.

“Maddie, I want you more than anything. I am so…” What? He searched for the words. “Turned on by you. All of you, your mind, your art.” He moved his eyes down her form. “Your body. It’s killing me that you won’t give me the time of day.”

She rolled her eyes. “I bet it’s a first for you.”

“Yes.”

She shook her head and resumed running.

He followed, thinking about what he’d just said. “I mean…” He wasn’t used to women saying no to him, but that wasn’t why he liked her. “I’m not attracted to you,” he panted, “because you keep turning me down.” He panted again, the increasing incline making it hard to carry a conversation. “If that’s what you’re insinuating.” A stitch dug in his side. He put his hand on his waist to ease the ache. “Hey, can we just…walk?”

Maddie knit her brow. “What’s the matter with you?”

“I’m…” God, this was embarrassing. “I’m not a great runner.”

“What do you mean? You’re totally in shape. See? I notice you.”

He bit back a smile. “I strength train. And I run on a treadmill. A treadmill that’s totally flat.”

“That’s lame.” She sighed, slowing her pace. “I guess walking is fine. Though I enjoyed seeing you struggle.” Her lips curved slightly.

“I deserve that.” Her candor made him hopeful. He continued in her path of truthfulness. “But trust me, I’m always struggling around you.”

The smile that had hinted before now settled on her face.

Good. They were making progress. Though they still had miles to go. “I feel horrible about last night. I’m buried under the weight of regret, Maddie, and I don’t know how to come up for air.” He paused, uncomfortable with how exposed he felt. “I was an asshole. I can’t bear that it might mean I never have another chance with you. What can I do, baby?” The endearment was a slip but he didn’t regret it when he saw the pleased glimmer in her eye.

“Tell Beaumont,” she said without hesitation.

“Of course. I’ll tell him tonight.”

“He isn’t on set tonight. He’s out for some Beaumont-y thing. Joe’s running the shoot.”

“Then I’ll tell Joe.”

She pinned him with her stare. “No, it has to be Beaumont.”

“Then I’ll tell him first thing the next time I see him. I swear to God.”

“And promise to never ever do anything like that again.”

“Cross my heart and hope to die.” Never. He would never hurt her like that again, not on purpose.

“Okay.” She relaxed. “All right. Thank you.”

Micah let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. They walked in silence for several seconds while he gathered up his courage to say what he had to say next. “But, Maddie, that won’t fix everything. We have to deal with this.” He waved his hand back and forth between them. “With whatever is going on between us. Because it’s not going away.” He returned the scowl she gave him. “Don’t look at me like you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

Her eyes narrowed. “And what exactly do you propose? Just fuck and get it over with?”

His balls throbbed at the suggestion of sex. “I was going to say one date, but yeah.”

She shook her head, her ponytail catching on her shoulder. “I can’t believe I’m listening to this.”

He exhaled slowly, worried that he was losing ground.

She turned on him before he could formulate a new plan. “Why me, Micah? If it’s not my repeated nos that have you intrigued, what is it? Why not one of the million other girls you know would kill for a night with you? Why me?”

That question. God, it was impossible to answer. He’d asked himself the same thing over and over since the airport and hadn’t come up with anything he could quite explain.

But now, for her, because she needed to know, he tried. “You remember that night?” He waited for her to nod. “Back then you liked me. At least, I think you did. And it wasn’t because I had money or a big name. It was me.”

He shook his head, not believing how completely exposed he was making himself for her. For a woman.

But as scary as it was, he wanted to be that exposed. “Now, when I’m kissing you, I’m kissing her—the woman who wanted to kiss that no-name guy from the wrap party. And you don’t seem to give a shit about the Micah Preston stuff.”

“That was a wrap party? Huh. I had no idea.” She kicked at the gravel with her toe, her eyes fixed on the ground.

It drove him crazy that she wasn’t looking him—that he couldn’t read her features, couldn’t see what she was thinking. “Yeah. For a Davenport film I’d just finished.”

“Hmm.” Finally she met his eyes. “Micah, that’s a really sweet sentiment. And I’m sure I can’t even begin to understand what it’s like for you. But I didn’t even know you back then. Yes, I was attracted to you for reasons that weren’t about fame or money. You were charming and adorable and well, so freakin’ hot.”

He grinned like he always did when she stated her attraction to him.

“But it was one night. A brief night a long time ago. If you want to know if I’m really into you, the real you under all that other stuff, then you’d have to give me a chance to get to know you. Because I don’t. I don’t know you.”

Her words punched him in the gut. Right. She didn’t know him. And he’d been wrapped up with this idea that she did—that she saw him for who he really was.

Yet instead of taking her truth and running like he usually did, he found himself asking, “Do you want to?”

“After what you pulled? I’m not sure.”

But she was still standing there talking to him. There had to be something he could say or do to make it work. “If I hadn’t been such an idiot, if I hadn’t fucked it up royally, what would it take to be with you?”

“It would take you being willing to be with me. I mean, I wouldn’t expect you to become my boyfriend. Or for you to be seen with me in the press. I’d just want a chance to see. See what happens, you know? Spend time together without any presumptions or preconceived notions of what we will or won’t be.”

“Spend time together…would that include time in and out of bed?”

She rolled her eyes. “You are such a horndog.”

“These days? Just for you.” His grin disappeared as he digested what she’d said. And though his next question tumbled out without much thought, he knew as he asked that it was exactly what he wanted. “I can’t take back yesterday, but if you thought you might be able to forgive me, and if I said okay, that I’d be willing to spend time with you without any presumptions or preconceived notions, would you give us that chance to see?”

Confusion and uncertainty crossed her face as she bit her upper lip.

Maybe it was too much to expect, for her to forgive him that completely. But he wanted so much for that chance, he had to ask. “At least consider it.” He took her hand.

“I told you not to touch me,” she grumbled, but she kept her hand in his. “Okay.”

“Okay?” He was sure his eagerness came off as nothing short of pathetic. Whatever. He’d rather be pathetic than without her.

“Okay, I’ll consider it.” She peered at him with intense brown eyes. “But you have to promise to respect whatever I decide.”

“Yes, of course.” He stroked her hand with his thumb, enjoying the vibrations that traveled through his nerves at the touch of her soft skin.

She stared at their joined hands as if trying to decide if his caress was pleasant or painful. “Why does it feel like I’ve already decided this a million times?”

“Maybe you keep making the wrong decision.”

“Yeah, that’s it,” she said, her voice laced in sarcasm.

They walked in silence, hands entwined, for several minutes, long enough for Micah to pretend they were an ordinary couple out for a lovers’ stroll. It felt…nice. Surreal, but nice. He wondered if she felt the same. “What are you thinking?”

She sighed. “I hate you.”

“Say that again,” he said, throwing the next line in the scene they had read together.

She smiled, catching his reference. Then she said the next line. “I hate you.”

Did she want him to continue? If they kept this up, it would lead to a kiss. Did she want that kiss? If his lips were on hers, she wouldn’t resist him. He knew it.

But he didn’t want to bully her anymore. So he dropped the scene. “I know,” he said. “I hate me too.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it.

“You’re going to break me,” she whispered.

But she was wrong. “You’re the one who’s going to break me.” She would. He knew it now. She was going to break him into so many pieces he wouldn’t be able to recognize himself.

And he was totally looking forward to it.