Chapter 5
Ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod.
Did he hear us talking about his muscles? Did he hear the nickname River had for him?
Embarrassment churns my stomach, and my insides wobble a little bit. I’m happy to be sitting down with my legs crossed on the bed before Marcus notices any cracks in my veneer. We can pretend all is well and that I’m not totally mortified at my bestie calling him hot.
My guardian isn’t hot.
Okay, well, that’s a lie. He is. He’s drop dead gorgeous in a surly, I’ll-bite-your-head-off-and-you’re-gonna-like-it kind of way, but he’s never looked at me the way a man looks at a woman he wants.
Why would he?
I’m nothing but a spoiled brat to him. and the smartest thing for me to do is consider him an uncle. Uncles are totally off limits.
“I’ll talk to you later.” I mutter the last statement to River, pushing the hair out of my eyes.
“Call me soon, okay? I want to know everything,” River answers before pressing the screen to end the call. Her eyes were lit by mischief. “Bye bye!”
Hot Daddy Marcus indeed.
If he overheard, I’ll never be able to live it down.
I cover my fluster by shifting to my feet, tossing the tablet aside, and forcing Marcus to follow me out of the room. My stomach does an uncomfortable flip, trying to get out of my body. Nerves, or something like them, tingle through my limbs with each step. “If you want to talk to me, then talk. I’m hungry. Haven’t eaten anything today.”
He’s a silent black cloud behind me.
My stomach does grumble as I pull open the fridge and reach for the cheese drawer on autopilot. Every bit of my attention is trained on him and the way he burst into my room making demands. “You wanted to talk to me badly enough to interrupt my phone call. You can tell me everything while I make a sandwich, Mr. Grumpy,” I say.
He rests his hand on the countertop beside me until the air molecules in the room disappear one by one and my lungs hitch.
He’s too close for comfort, practically breathing down my neck with whatever he wanted to say, something important enough to force me off the phone. Or maybe that’s his way of showing his dominance. Might as well bite the back of my neck or piss on my leg.
I’d been safe in the room, even though it was harder to breathe with him stealing the air in the small space.
Now, I’m out in the open because I hadn’t wanted to be hedged in, and he does it anyway, by simply existing in the same space as me.
“Well?” I press him. “What is it? You’ve got to at least talk to me if you’re going to be a dick about things.”
“Are you going to actually look at me, or are you going to pretend we’re not in the same room?” he retorts.
“I’m going to make a sandwich, unless you want me to starve. I’m nothing but skin and bones these days.”
Like an uncle, I repeat, two pieces of bread next to each other on the plate, the cheese at the ready. He’s nothing but an uncle to me, and that’s the way it’s always been. It doesn’t matter how absolutely gorgeous he is, especially when he’s angry. And he’s always angry.
Some men are handsome when they smile: Marcus Ortega is transformed when he glowers.
“Then maybe you need to actually eat when I cook for you.”
“I would if you made something other than spaghetti and didn’t burn the sauce every single time.” I hastily finish assembling the sandwich, but my stomach growls for a completely different reason when Marcus steps closer and I catch another whiff of his scent.
“I heard from the producers of Wretched about an hour ago,” he finally says.
“Did you?” My heart leaps into my throat. “And what did they say?”
He waits for a beat and forces me to turn slowly to face him, blinking him into focus over my shoulder. He doesn’t smile as he tells me, “They wanted to call and tell me personally that they’re interested in you for the part of Alicia.”
It takes a second for his words to sink in, and when they finally do, a switch flips inside me, from excited to nervous and back again before settling into some nebulous confusion in between the two. “You’re serious?”
Marcus’s brows furrow down into a single line. “Of course I’m serious. I wouldn’t bullshit you about this role. It’s the chance of a lifetime, Empire. You’ll finally be able to make a name for yourself, on your own, with your talent.”
It’s something I’ve always worked for and never attained. I’m not even sure I really wanted to get the part. The small voice in the back of my head acknowledges it even as I force it aside, staring at Marcus, because a part of me did. Emotions war, denial and joy and excitement and worry.
I can only focus on Marcus and wait for them to settle.
I open my mouth to speak, but before I’m able to get anything out, he goes ahead with, “I told them I have to speak with you before I make any concrete agreement on your part, but you’d be a fucking fool if you turned this down. Remember that. It’s a large part under a big wig producer.”
“I’ve never been in a movie before.” I shouldn”t have to remind him. My voice is small, timid, not at all how it would sound if I were a real actress faced with a good part. “I have no idea what to do.”
All of a sudden, it gets hot in the kitchen, scorching hot, and I feel like I need to rip my t-shirt off to breathe easier.
“You’ll learn,” Marcus insists. He takes another step forward, and the butter knife in my hand clatters to the countertop. “You’ll learn by doing it, just like everyone else. You’ve seen your mother and father do it often enough; it should be second nature to you at this point.”
I shake my head, irrationally worried he won’t give me time to think this over on my own.
Hell, he’s probably already got a contract written up, waiting for me to sign.
“I mean…” I scrub at my eyes. “I don’t even really know what the movie is about. I only read for the role because you told me to, and you had my monologue ready to go when I got there.”
I’d loved the dialogue, though. Something about the way they wrote Alicia spoke to me. She came across as confident, outgoing, a little brash. Defiant against the odds stacked against her and all the things I might have been at one point had things not changed. There was an openness about her, a lack of embarrassment about going after the things she wanted.
“I know how to settle this.” Marcus holds up a finger. “Hold on. Don’t go anywhere.”
Flustered, a little on edge, I grab the knife again and finish slathering vegan mayonnaise onto both pieces of bread. By the time he returns, I’m done with the sandwich and wondering if I’ll be able to eat.
Marcus drops the script in front of me, and when I fail to pick it up, he slides it closer. “Read. You want to know about the part? Read.”
He’s always so damn demanding.
I glance over at the summary. Teenage heartthrob Alicia St. James sets up her rich older neighbor, seducing him to get what she wants. A lesson in being careful what you wish for.
Seduction, older man…Call me stupid, but I’d had no idea.
“What the actual fuck, Marcus?” I shove the script back toward him in shock. “You never showed me any of this before I went in! You just tossed me in the room and told me to read.” So stupid of me. I should have looked at the synopsis before I started to monologue.
Except I’d been too worried about keeping it together, too caught up thinking about Mom and what she would have done if this were her part. Worse, because it hurt even more to think about, I’d wondered what she would have said if she’d been in the waiting room with me for the audition.
“Is there a problem?” Marcus asks.
Extra flustered, I ignore the sandwich and move to the espresso machine. Trembling fingers press the buttons for a double shot. My heart is already racing in a bid to get out of my chest; what’s a little extra caffeine jolt?
“I asked if there’s a problem, Empire.” He crowds me, his front pressing to my back. His hip arches lightly to remind me of his proximity. “Do you suddenly not want to know more about the part? You were perfect for it. I told you you would be. Now you see why. The producers see it too.”
I shake my head, and the espresso begins to drip down into the cup below in steady black drops.
“Answer me.” His fingers curl on the counter beside my own, his arms a cage keeping me trapped. There”s nowhere to run.
Take the part.
I know I should.
What will happen if I don’t? If I say there’s got to be a better path for me out there, one outside of the spotlight? Something I’ve never experienced before in my life.
“Is that what you think of me?” I bark out instead. “You think I’m some kind of seductress who uses men to get ahead? I have no idea why you think the part is perfect, but let me tell you something: it’s not.”
“I think the part was written for you,” he answers clearly. “It’s about a woman exploring her own needs and how she relates to others. Yes, there’s a little more sex,” he punches the word, “than you’re used to, but I’ll be there for you, watching.”
I shudder against him as he presses closer still. His body is a threat, a warning, an invitation. I’m not sure which one excites me more. The heat of him sinks into me, his hardness against my softness, but it isn’t enough to keep me from worrying.
“You’re telling me you don’t want it now?” he asks. “After you read so beautifully? They didn’t even wait twenty-four hours to call me up and tell me the part is yours. It means something, Empire.”
It does, doesn’t it? I’d seen Mom wait weeks to hear back for reads, even though she killed it each and every time. Sometimes, producers and directors liked to play things cool.
What about today had stood out for the panel?
“It’s the perfect gateway part for you, the kind that can catapult you to extraordinary heights,” Marcus continues.
“I don”t want to catapult.” The espresso finishes, and I stare at the cup, too shocked to reach for it, too flustered to eat my sandwich now.
“Why? What’s going on inside your head? You better start fucking talking to me, or else we’ll have a problem,” he says.
I sigh. “We always have a problem.”
“Don’t get smart with me. What the hell is going on with you? Talk to me.”
I shake my head hard. “No.”
It’s not me. It might have been at one point, but it’s not anymore. I thought I might become that person again through the powerful dialogue, but not if it means the character is going to do something so…sexualized. With an older man. And the seduction is the whole point of the movie! The entire driving arc of the character. I don’t need to read the end to figure out how it is going to play out. A teenage woman using her brains and her body to get ahead…it never ends well for her, no matter how beautiful or smart.
“Why don’t you want this part, Empire?” Marcus repeats.
“Leave me alone.” I push against him to get him to back up even a little, but there’s no space between our bodies for me to move. The counter bites into me from the front, and his fingers curl tighter on the counter, knuckles white.
“You”re going to answer me, or I’ll drag you up to your room and get the answers out of you one way or another.” He stops, and then, “Is this because you’re still a virgin?”
I answer without thinking, without even stopping to wonder how he knows it before I blurt out, “Yes!”
How fucking embarrassing to have to admit it out loud, that I’d been touched but never in a way that made it below the belt. Never even a kiss on the lips; only the cheek, the forehead, the side of the neck…
I’m pathetic.
He goes still. “Well. That’s a problem we can easily solve.”
He wraps his hand in my hair, crushing the tendrils between his fingers and dragging me back, exposing my neck to him. His lips are on my skin a heartbeat later, and heat rushes between my legs at the feel of his muscles against my back, against my ass, and then his teeth nip the side of my neck.
His lips trail a path along my skin before he nips harder, biting down where my neck meets my shoulder.
I gasp and push back against him. He won’t touch me anywhere else, but I feel him everywhere. Every inch of me is taught. My breasts tighten until my nipples ache where they rub against the fabric of my shirt.
There’s no escape, but suddenly, I don’t want to find one.
Marcus drags his lips up to my ear and bites down until I shudder against him and my eyes flutter closed.
He says nothing, and it’s hotter for the silence between us. His hot breath tickles the arch of my ear, and my back arches to bring him into closer contact. Wetness pools between my legs. Everything narrows to me and him, the feeling of his teeth on me, kissing me, pinning me in place as he grinds against me.
I should be pissed off for this, furious at the way he glides his tongue along the mark his teeth surely made on my neck. Heat flashes between my legs. I ache for him.
A moan slips out before he finally gives me the space I’d craved before.
“You’ll do fine,” he says. “Stop doubting yourself.”
I nearly sag at the loss of his heat, and only locking my knees keeps me upright when he stalks out of the kitchen. The front door slams a second later.