Chapter 15
The script is the elephant in the room.
I head down to grab some food and coffee the next morning, and it’s sitting there on the kitchen table, ready to be pried open. There are no notations on it yet. I haven’t been able to bring myself to write in the margins, things for me to remember. I’ve barely been able to get through the entire thing without thinking of everything that will be asked of me, required for memorizing and characterization, without shuddering.
I’ve read through it twice, and every time, I end up closing it halfway through and having to do something else.
Then there’s the guy who brought the elephant in the room.
Marcus stands at the stove, his back toward me, and aside from a quick tightening of his shoulders, he won’t turn around or even acknowledge my presence.
Fucker.
He knows I’m here; otherwise, he wouldn”t have bothered to make breakfast. There are two plates on the counter next to him, turkey bacon already plated on both of them, while he stirs the scrambled eggs in the pan.
I dreamed about him again.
The nightmare of the plane crash had shifted somehow, so I was in the seat with Marcus strapped in at my side. Rather than going down and waking up in a ball of fire, the scene shifted to the two of us alone in bed, his beautiful cock in my hand, between my legs, his teeth on my neck.
I ended up waking up with a completely different tenor of scream in my throat.
I liked it. I liked it when he took what he wanted from me and ordered me around until he got me in just the right place.
I’m too scared to look deeply at what kind of person that makes me.
Not when my mouth already starts to water at the sight of his t-shirt clad back and the way his gray sweatpants hug his lower half.
Talk about awkward.
Thinking about the taste of him has moisture pooling between my legs, even as my back proverbially goes up. How can one man turn me on and infuriate me so much? It makes no sense.
Not like I’ve got a lot of experience, but come on, even I know you’re supposed to fall for guys who treat you like princesses, not a problem. I’d been ready to beat the ever-loving crap out of him last night until he told me to get on my knees and then…what? I became some kind of glutton for punishment?
Opened my mouth for him without a word or a bite?
I keep my groan to myself and walk stiffly to the table, dropping into my seat to wait for Marcus to finish plating. He walks equally stiff to the table and drops the plate in front of me with a clatter, neither of us looking at the other or bothering to speak.
Fine by me.
It’s so much easier to go back to ignoring him. I ignore what we did last night, even though my mind is struggling to believe it actually happened.
With the script waiting for me, there’s no doubt in my mind what Marcus wants me to do today. And with River out of the county at another live event, I’ve got a wide-open day to read.
I shovel the first forkful of scrambled eggs into my mouth and grab the script, searching for a scene, one I’d struggled with since the first read. It’s the first time Alicia and Mr. Patterson actually go through with their seduction, a little over halfway through the film after a cat and mouse game where he finally steps into the trap she set, but things are not exactly what Alicia thought they would be. Sounds familiar, too familiar.
Chewing thoughtfully, I land on the scene and fold the corner over to make sure I won’t lose my place.
If he wants to force me to go through with the charade of filming for Parker Heath, then I will. Marcus made it clear I don’t have a choice in the matter. Kicking and screaming, he’ll make me do it, like I’m some kind of robot or marionette for him to maneuver.
I don’t need to make it easy on him, though.
I might not kick and scream, I decide, snapping into one of the crispy pieces of bacon, but I’ll make it painful for him. I’ll torture the man within an inch of his sanity. The idea brings a rotten smile to my face.
“Are you willing to go over a scene with me?” I ask lightly, staring at my plate.
I want him to feel every bit as awkward as I do this morning, and if forcing him to play with me is going to get to the end result of suffering, then so be it. He wants a spoiled little brat? I’ll give him one. I’ll make him hold my hand every step of the way until he’s ready to scream and pull out his own hair for a change.
Marcus finally turns from the stove with his face a mask of indifference, stern and handsome and giving nothing away. “I would be very happy to help you once we’re done eating,” he says in a calm and collected tone I automatically hate.
“Then you better hurry up and eat.” I smirk at him and use the same tone as I say, “You’re wasting time.”
No hint of a growl, but I do see the way he swallows compulsively, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
Last night, I had his cock in my mouth.
Last night, I cried about my parents and how terrible it felt to be alone. I’m not sure I’ve forgiven Marcus for the shitty things he said, or if I will for a long time yet while I work through things on my own.
But I learned one thing: I’ll have to take care of myself. It doesn’t matter if I’ve got four more years under his guardianship or not. My happiness is on me, because he’s going to force me to be a star whether I want it or not. I’ve got to make the most of the situation.
After breakfast, we head into the office.
“Sit in your chair,” I tell him. “I bookmarked the scene I want to work on because I think it’s going to be the hardest for me to get through. And you said you’d help.” I make it sound more like a question to get him off guard.
He’s got a second copy of the script on the desk already.
Marcus eyes me for a moment before he does as I ask. “So biddable today?” he asks lightly. “I’m shocked. Seems like last night is already forgotten.”
You’d like that, wouldn’t you? But I don”t bother dignifying that with a response.
He wants to provoke me, but who really has the control here? Newsflash: it’s me. He’ll see soon enough once he actually reads the scene I want to work through.
He might resent having to watch me and take care of me, but never in my life have I seen Marcus lose it the way he did then, with anger becoming his master and his devil at the same time. I might have been the one on my knees, but he couldn”t have walked away from me even if he’d wanted to—which he definitely didn’t.
So really, when I think about it…there’s a way for me to turn this around if I’m smart enough to manage and navigate the right way.
I’m going to push his buttons to the point where he’ll regret calling me names.
And leaving me wanting.
Because I’d gone to bed last night with a physical ache at my core, and touching myself hadn’t done the trick. Even getting my toys out only made me think more about Marcus and what it would feel like for him to actually make good on the tension between us.
Today, I’ll see how far I can push him.
Let’s see how far his control extends.
“Turn to page one hundred twenty,” I tell him.
He settles himself in the chair with his mouth twisted to the side in a sour natured scowl. “You’re sure which scene you want to run?” he asks.
“Of course I am. You want me to work on the script? Then we need to start with the scenes I find the hardest to get through, to get into character.” I bite my lip and tuck a lock of hair behind my head, feeling his eyes on me, trying to look innocent when inside, I’m cackling.
Oh, this is going to be good. I can feel it.
When he doesn’t move, when he only looks at me waiting for me to make another move, I shift to the desk and physically open the second copy of the script for him, finding the right page and pointing to the start of the scene. “Here,” I say like I’m explaining it to a child. “I’ll start.”
In the scene, Alicia is still pushing Mr. Patterson to the end of his tolerance, and while Mr. Patterson thinks he’s the one in control, it’s really Alicia springing a trap on him.
How much art imitates life.
And I thought I’d never be able to get into character. I work my neck side to side, taking a few deep breaths. I was totally wrong.
“It’s no secret you’ve been alone since your wife died,” I start. “I’m here to help you. I’ve done nothing but help you, Mr. Patterson.”
Marcus twitches but says nothing for the longest time, clearly seeing how this is going to go and considering the options internally. If he backs out, then he concedes to me. If he goes through with it, he might lose control again. It’s a test.
I push my chest out, waiting for him to read his line, and when he doesn’t…I jerk my nose toward the script. “Go on, Marcus. Read.”
He shakes his head a little and clears his throat. “My wife has nothing to do with this or why you’re here, Alicia. Keep her name out of your mouth, please,” he says gruffly.
“You’ve been alone in this stuffy house for too long. It needs a little life inserted into it, right?” I saunter forward but don’t stop at the desk, not when the scene calls for a little something extra from me.
Alicia sits on Mr. Patterson’s lap.
Damn right she does.
“You’ve kept me at arm’s length for long enough. You see I’m trying to help you, right?”
“I see a little girl playing at something far beyond her comprehension.”
I maintain eye contact, reaching one leg up before I drop down right over Marcus. His hands curl around the arms of the chair, but he refuses to touch me. I arch just a bit to let him feel the heat rolling off me. “I can help, if you let me,” I murmur.
“What’s a little thing like you going to do?”
“A little thing like me can do a lot if you give me the chance.” I grab his wrist and lift it to my waist, his fingertips skimming my ribs.
Mr. Patterson skims his fingers beneath the hem of her shorts but no higher. He stops, maintaining his exquisite control, but only just. The chords are fraying.
“Chances involve risks, and I’m not sure you’re worth the risk, Alicia,” Marcus reads.
He’s not taking the cues, though, and I have to grab his hand again and stick it where it belongs. The moment his fingertips touch me, a fire lights. Sparks fly, and my breath quickens.
“You’ve got to touch me, Marcus,” I warn. “Otherwise, I’m not going to get into the scene the right way. It says here Mr. Patterson fondles Alicia’s breast and groans. He’s losing it.”
He groans again, curling his fingers, pushing a little bit higher until he stops at the underside of my tit. I wait, a small, impatient sigh dying in the back of my throat before he finally lifts his hand to me and squeezes, massaging the globe lightly.
“I’m always worth the risk,” I say as Alicia, only glancing at the script to catch the next lines. “I thought you were more adventurous than you really are, Mr. Patterson. You’ve done nothing but put me off. You can’t expect me to keep trying and trying if you don’t want this the way I do.”
“Wanting this isn’t the problem, Alicia.”
“Then what is the problem?” I ask.
Mr. Patterson leans in to kiss the side of Alicia’s neck.
Marcus takes the cue this time, hesitating only a moment before he presses his lips to my overheated skin.
“Don’t worry,” I whisper, closing my eyes at the contact. “You won’t have to follow through with this. It will be my co-star. I’m sure he’ll be much more willing to embody the part once we start filming. I just want to make sure I’m comfortable enough with the dialogue to really give it my all when he’s fondling me.”
I’m not sure whether I need the careful reminder more or he does, but his twitch at the statement gives me a certain amount of pleasure.
“Now go on,” I press. “Keep reading.”