Chapter 23
ANYA
The next day is a rest day and Danny has been busy with long hours everyday. This week has been mostly lengthy, intense scenes and I can tell most of the cast and crew have been a little bit stunned by the effort he’s putting in. I’m not. I knew he just needed a push, a little support.
And regular orgasms.
Although, they haven’t been too regular with our busy schedules, the not-on-set rule I created, and the not-in-public rule he made. Options have been significantly limited. There are really only so many excuses I can make to go up to follow him up to his room when Jaques drops him off.
That’s why, after a late wrap last night, I suggested we could meet at my place today. Danny’s answering groan of relief was all I needed. “Do you have a regular sized fridge?”
So here I am, frantically cleaning the entire apartment. My phone rings in my pocket. I pull my rubber gloves off and tuck my phone between my shoulder and ear.
“I’m lost,” Danny huffs into the phone before I say a word.
“You really do need to be handheld at all times, don’t you?” I throw the gloves and cleaning products under the sink.
“I would be fine if your instructions weren’t ‘big door on the right’.”
“What can you see?”
“Lots of big fucking doors on the right.”
I laugh and open the window on the Juliet balcony. Leaning over the railing, I spot Danny up the street with one hand on his phone and the other on his hip.
“Now tell me,” I say cheekily. “Can you tell your left from your right?.”
“I came from a different direction!”
I lean further out the window and stick my fingers in my mouth, letting out a wolf whistle. Danny spins in my direction and I can see his glare from here. I wave.
“You better hope no one else heard that,” he says, crossing the street to my door.
“I think you’ll live. I’ll buzz you up. Fourth floor.”
Once I confirm he’s in the building, I anxiously start fluffing pillows as I wait. How long does it take him to walk up four flights of stairs for god’s sake? I’m trying really hard not to think about how this is the first time that we’ve met up somewhere other than his hotel, that this is the first time that we’ve arranged to meet up outside of work.
A light knock sounds at the door, making me jump.
“Who is it?” I tease.
“Noise complaint. Something about a whistle.”
I swing the door open and try not to swallow my tongue at the sight of his bright blue eyes.
“You going to let me in?”
God, I’m just standing still staring at him like a fool. “Uh, yeah.” I step back and he moves. I freeze. This is so not like normal. Should I kiss him? Hug him? High five?
“Stop being weird, freckles.” He looks around my apartment pensively. He pokes his head into every room and I follow along, awkwardly hovering over his shoulder.
“I’m not being weird.” Should I give him a tour? Or just show him the way to the bedroom?
He finally settles his attention on me, his lips rising in his insufferable smirk.
“Is this place a rental?”
Huh? “No, it’s my Aunt’s. She’s traveling.”
That smirk grows. “Anya, this place is posh.”
I bristle. “No it’s not.”
“Anya,” he says slowly, placing his hands on my shoulders. “You’re posh.”
I gasp and shrug his arms off. “Take that back!”
“God, all those comments about my fancy hotel and my sushi preferences and you’re hiding this in the back pocket.”
“I am not posh,” I bite.
“You’re a little Champagne Socialist, that’s what you are.” He taps my nose and brushes past me through to the living room.
I follow him and watch as he settles on my couch. I try really hard not to recognize how at home he looks there, how he would look sprawled there every day.
“Want a drink?” I peel my eyes away from him before my mind runs too far away.
“Don’t worry,” he looks around. “The butler will be here shortly.”
I throw one of my freshly plumped pillows at him as he laughs, but before I can get in a second swing, he grabs my arm and tugs me towards him.
I collapse onto him and his hands clutch my waist as he presses his lips to mine. He swallows my moan as his tongue teases me.
My hands find his hair and tug, until he’s leaning against the cushions and I’m straddling his lap. He kisses his way down my neck, the hands under my ass grinding me against him. My breath hitches as the bulge beneath his jeans hits just the right spot.
In a smooth motion, he grasps my thighs and twists us so I’m underneath him and his delicious weight squishes me. His lips return to my neck, his tongue licking at my skin like a live wire igniting my blood.
His hand wanders up my shirt and he groans into my mouth when he discovers the bare skin underneath. A good decision to forgo the bra I guess. He tugs my shirt off, exposing my peaked nipples to the cool air. His fingers flick over my nipple and he squeezes my breast in his hand, following the movement with his mouth. He travels down my body, kissing and licking my skin until he nestles between the cradle of my thighs.
My heart pounds in my ears as he unbuttons my jeans. He gives me space to pull them off and fling them across the room. He rips his t-shirt over his head, allowing my hands to roam across his torso, tangling my fingers in his dark chest hair. A small voice in my head reminds me to consider how I look, to contort my body so there are no rolls on my belly, but the wet kiss he presses to my inner thigh distracts me. His strong hands grip the outside of each thigh and wrench them further apart. His nose brushes against my folds and he presses a light kiss to the bundle of nerves begging for attention.
“Fuck, Anya,” he groans. “You’re so wet. Have you been like this all day baby, waiting for me?” He kisses the crease of my thigh and looks up at me with hooded eyes.
“No,” I lie, my eyes fluttering closed. A sharp bite on my inner thigh has them flying open again and a shudder runs down my spine.
“Liar,” he returns his attention to my parted thighs. “I bet you’ve been thinking about this all day.” His breath brushes against me, making my breath catch in my throat. “Been thinking about my cock all day haven’t you, freckles?”
I can’t take it anymore. “Yes,” I whimper. “Please.”
“Because you asked so nicely.” His tongue swipes with a strong lick and my back arches off the couch. Danny consumes me with a frenzy, licking and sucking and kissing. He lifts my hips off the cushion and closer to his mouth, like he could swallow me whole.
I watch as his breathing grows frantic and his eyes flick up to mine. His smoldering gaze combined with his wicked tongue sends me careening over the edge.
I catch my breath and he releases me with a final kiss to my sensitive flesh, lowering me back onto the couch.
He falls forward and presses his lips to mine. Before, with other men, I would have turned away before they kissed me, but with Danny I chase his lips as he pulls away, desperate for another taste. He kisses my cheek gently before lying between my open legs, his head resting on my heaving chest.
My eyes close as the comforting weight of his body and the affect of my orgasm almost lulls me to sleep.
“I can hear your heart,” he says softly.
“Hmm?” I murmur, not quite back on Earth.
“Yeah, it’s saying ‘Danny-gives-the-best-head.’”
I laugh and flick his cheek. “Don’t call it head.”
“What am I supposed to call it? Licking the bean?”
I grimace, “It’s called cunnilingus.”
“Doesn’t roll off the tongue as easily as rug munching,” he quips.
“Ew!” I squeal and try to push him upright. He laughs and lets his body become dead weight, so I dig into his sides in retaliation. We battle until he nearly rolls off the couch and calls a ceasefire. We collapse again with flushed faces and racing hearts.
His head resumes its position against my chest. I could push him off for real and put some clothes on, but I can’t think of a single reason why. My fingers push through his hair, lightly scratching with my nails. It’s so quiet, I think he’s fallen asleep. What man comes to a woman’s house, eats her out and then falls asleep? Who did I blow in a past life to deserve this?
“Anya,” Danny mumbles. Not asleep then.
“Yeah?”
“I think the butler forgot my drink order.”
My groan dissolves into a laugh as he raises his head to look at me, a silly grin on his face and his hair wild from my hands. “You’re insufferable.”
“And yet you suffer me.” He presses a kiss to my lips. “Drink now, please.”
I roll my eyes, but can’t help my smile as I push at his shoulders. “Get off me, you big brute.”
He eases off me and I grab his discarded t-shirt before heading to the kitchen. By the time I return with a glass of water, Danny has pulled his jeans back on and is inspecting the room, admiring the trinkets acquired from Claudette’s many travels.
The room is light and airy with chic, practical furniture, but dotted around the room is an assortment of gemstones, figurines, and general tat that Sabine would never allow to clutter up her house. The two bed terraced house I grew up in feels miles away from this luxurious Parisian apartment.
“It’s my aunt’s place, Claudette.” I explain. “She’s rolling in money – I don’t know why, and I haven’t asked, but mum and I are just regular people.”
“Your aunt lives here full time?”
“She has a house in the south and a chalet in Switzerland. She doesn’t even rent this place out.”
“She’s letting you rent though.”
“Yeah, it’s a whole thing.” I wave my hand. “I think she just likes being useful so she can hold it over my mum’s head. I don’t have any siblings, so I don’t really get it.”
“I could tell you were an only child.” He nudges me. “So bossy.”
I roll my eyes. “You have a sister, right?”
“Younger, Pip. We used to be at each other’s throats all the time.” He picks up a figurine. “We were more like strangers than siblings, because we were always away working or at school. And then when we were together, our parents would just be comparing us to each other – our careers and what we were doing next. It took years for us to realize that it wasn’t me against her, but us against them.”
“So you’re close now?”
“We make an effort. I stayed with her earlier this year in LA but then I had to move to France,” he looks at me wily. “She’s coming over again for a collab with a fashion house soon so you’ll probably see her around.”
I bite down on the twist in my belly. Meeting his sister?
As if Danny knew where my head was at, he says, “She mentioned coming to set, so.”
An awkward silence commences. Our arrangement works when it’s just the two of us in my apartment or his hotel room, but then the outside world comes knocking and douses us with cold water.
Danny’s hand lingers on Claudette’s beat-up guitar resting in the corner of the room. His fingers trace the strings, plucking a discordant twang. Before I can ask if he plays, he picks up a photo frame. The photo is dated and old. “Is this your mum?” he asks.
I take a closer look. “Yeah that’s her.”
In the photo, Sabine dances with her brown hair curled in an 80s wave, holding the hand of Claudette, who is bent in half with laughter.
“You look like her.” Danny says.
“Yeah, we get that a lot.”
“You miss her,” he says.
“I talk to her most days but it’s still not enough sometimes.”
“Where is home?” Danny asks, like he can’t believe he doesn’t know.
“A small village with about a thousand people and a pub. The people who live there have always lived there. I moved out after uni but go back as often as I can to see people. What about you? You grew up in London?”
“Mostly. We moved around a lot so it was a base of sorts. But as soon as Better You Know kicked off, I left school and had on set tutors. So I didn’t have, like, school friends or anything, no one I keep in touch with.”
“Wait, so you don’t have all the people from school on Facebook?” I ask, puzzled.
He shakes his head.
“But how do you keep up with who’s gotten married or started fights in the pub or named their babies something stupid like Hawk?”
Danny snorts. “Hawk?”
“There are two from my year alone.”
“You have to be famous and audacious to get away with that.”
I laugh. “Please name your future child something like ‘Candle’.”
Danny chuckles, “Nah, I’m more partial to a food themed name. Broccoli.”
“Parmesan.”
“Lasagna.”
“This is an Italian child of course.”
“Well, obviously.”
I stop my snort escaping with a hand to my mouth.
“You have a beautiful laugh,” he says.
I chuckle. “Shut up.”
Danny reaches out with his finger and brushes it along my temple, pushing my hair off my face. “I should probably go,” he says.
I clear my throat. “Yeah of course. Well thanks for the…” I wave my hand.
“The orgasm?” he asks.
“Yeah, that.” My cheeks burn.
He grins and steps into my space. He cradles my face and lowers his lips to mine. I melt into his kiss and whine as he releases me, looking into my eyes. “I’m going to need my shirt back.”
Ignoring the sinking feeling in my chest at the thought of him leaving, I whip it off without looking at him. What am I doing? This is a casual hookup. I shouldn’t expect him to stay.
I cover my body the best I can as I pull my clothes back on. The rustling I can hear behind me indicating that he is doing the same.
The awkwardness makes me cringe. I have no idea what to do now. I just face-fucked Danny Covington and now he’s doing a walk of shame out of my apartment.
When he is ready, we walk towards the front door.
I don’t look up as I open it. A strong hand appears over my head and closes the door before his hard body backs me up to it. “Stop freaking out, freckles,” he says gently, catching my eye.
“I’m not freaking out,” I mumble.
He smirks knowingly. “When can I see you again?” he asks, running his nose along my neck. It’s unfair of him to expect me to remember things like a calendar whilst his sinful fingers trace my stomach.
“You’ll see me tomorrow.” I gulp as he presses a wet kiss to my neck, the hickey he left me with finally fading.
“When can I see you like this?”
“Uhm.” Coherent thought goes out the door as his teeth descend onto my flesh, gently biting the same spot as if he wants his mark to remain etched on my skin.
“After work tomorrow, I’ll be back here.” Danny says, pulling away and looking into my eyes.
“Okay,” I whisper breathless.
“Good,” he says, pressing a gentle kiss to my lips.
Before I can formulate any other words, he pulls the door open and calls, “See you tomorrow, freckles,” over his shoulder as he descends the apartment stairs.
I close the door behind me and take a deep breath. What have I gotten myself into?