Chapter 31
chapter
thirty-one
Seven
G em got roped back onto my set full-time, and he didn’t even bitch at me about it which said a lot about his mood at the moment. Something about Stella had changed my twin…and not in a bad way. As much as she irritated me and made me want to push her into a crocodile-infested swimming pool, I couldn’t deny how happy Gem was. Or Ollie for that matter, and if that wasn’t a shock, I didn’t know what was.
Ollie was a perpetual bachelor. A player of the highest degree. He didn’t date—not seriously. He fucked around and flicked them away the second they started developing feelings. That’d been his MO ever since we hit puberty and he started being asked to sign chicks’ tits.
Until now.
Until her.
Stella fucking Charles.
“What are you doing?” I asked when I found her sprawled on the sofa in her underwear and one of Ollie’s favorite T-shirts. The fabric was all hitched up from her awkward position and the underside of one boob was exposed. Why the fuck was I so turned on, staring at that curve? Probably because my fake relationship with her had totally killed my sex life. I couldn’t exactly go hooking up with anyone else with all eyes on Seven and Stella .
She glanced up at me, totally unconcerned by her lack of clothing. The infuriating woman had no modesty at all. The other day I’d walked in on her sucking Gem’s dick in the gym bathroom and she hadn’t even flinched. Just winked and continued with what she was doing, while Gem threw a towel and told me to fuck off.
I’d thought about that way too many times since then.
“Watching TV,” she replied. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
I scowled, eyeing her weird pose hanging half off the couch with a leg slung up over the backrest and her hair on the floor. “Yoga? I don’t know. Stop it, though. You’re irritating me.”
She scoffed and made no move to get up. “Me breathing irritates you, Demon Spawn. Go brood in the library if you have an issue with me.”
Footsteps in the hallway reminded me why I’d vacated my library in the first place. Our cleaner wanted to vacuum in there and I couldn’t deal with the noise.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” the woman said, pausing in the doorway. “I didn’t realize you still had company, Mr. Harrison.”
“You’re fine,” I replied, moving closer to where Stella sprawled on the couch and nudging her leg aside to make space for me to sit down. She obliged, but then placed her leg across my lap once I was sitting. I guess it was a good thing she was willing to sell the story.
The woman glanced curiously from me to Stella and her very obvious lack of clothing, her eyes widening. “I just wanted to apologize, Mr. Harrison. I knocked over a glass in your library and it’ll take a little longer to clean up the breakage. I didn’t want you accidentally getting cut.”
That was annoying, but I bit back my sigh of frustration. “That’s fine, Martha, wasn’t it?”
The woman frowned, her lips pursing. “Flora.”
“Right,” I replied. “Sorry.”
“Seven’s in no hurry to get back to his library,” Stella drawled from her weird position, using the remote to select the next episode of whatever trash she was watching. “He was just telling me how much he desperately wanted to suck my toes while I watch Is It Cake? ”
The cleaner—Flora—gasped in embarrassment, shock, or horror, or a mixture of the three, before disappearing back down the hall to continue her work.
“I’d rather suck on a poisonous snake than your toes, Stray,” I growled, smacking her foot off my lap. The motion unbalanced her position and she slid off the sofa onto the floor headfirst. Which, to my disgust, ended up with Ollie’s T-shirt over her head and totally exposing those lush tits in all their upside-down glory.
“Dickhead,” she snapped back, rolling and rearranging herself to sit on the floor with her back to the sofa. Her T-shirt was back in place. “Snakes are venomous, not poisonous, you moron.”
I puffed out a long breath, folding my legs to hide my thickening cock. It wasn’t her that I was attracted to—it was just tits in general that turned me on. They could have been Flora’s and I’d still be rocking a semi right now.
“Whatever. I was going to offer you something nice, since you generously waived our agreed fee for your public appearances with Gem, but now I changed my mind.”
Her head whipped around, suspicion etched over every inch of her pretty face. “You don’t do nice , Demon Spawn.”
Okay, she had a point. That wasn’t to say I didn’t ever do nice things, but as far as our interactions went? Yeah, her point was valid. “Well, I don’t now . Are you seriously sitting here watching a reality TV show about cake making?”
Her eye roll was infuriating. “It’s about cake decorating , dumbass. The whole point is that they’re so realistic you don’t know which item is real and which is cake. See this one?” She gestured to the TV where on the podiums there were five different sneakers. The camera zoomed in on one. “Is it cake?”
I wrinkled my nose, confused. “No. That’s a shoe.” Then watched in fascination as the host took a huge knife and cut straight through the toe of the shoe. “Holy crap, it was cake.”
“See, it’s genius,” she muttered, utterly enthralled once more by her show.
Somehow, don’t fucking ask me how, I sat there watching the rest of the episode with her—plus two more—and got genuinely fired up when I guessed the wrong bag of cash at the end. Then cursed when I saw what time it was.
“Get dressed, Stray,” I ordered. “We were supposed to leave twenty minutes ago.”
“Leave? For what?” She did get up off the couch, where she’d made herself comfy a while ago, so that was a step in the right direction.
I blew out a sigh, raking my fingers through my hair. “Does it matter? You didn’t have any plans today anyway. Come on, I’ll pull the car around.”
I started for the door when she called after me. “Is this a paid date, Spawn?”
Sassy bitch.
“Sure. Whatever. Just put some pants on, for the love of fuck. And a bra.” Although, I couldn’t say I’d be too disappointed if she forgot that part.
Damn it. I needed to get laid so freaking bad.
I pulled out one of my lesser-used cars—a Mercedes—and waited impatiently for Stella to slide into the passenger seat, sadly fully clothed.
“So are you telling me where we’re going?” she asked, weaving her inky hair into a loose braid over her shoulder.
I could tell her, but why make things easy? “Nope. You’re getting paid for your time, Stray, just go with the flow. Better this than lurking around behind bushes taking photos of my colleagues anyway.”
“I don’t lurk,” she grumbled, folding her arms and staring out her window.
We were quiet most of the drive, our only conversation happening when I tried to put on the radio and she insulted my choice of station, then I obviously had to make fun of her for her shitty taste in music.
“Okay, why have you brought me here?” she finally asked when I pulled into the warehouse parking lot.
I smirked, then climbed out and went around to open her door for her. “You have no idea where we are, do you?”
“Absolutely no idea,” she replied, agreeing. Just then, the door to the closest warehouse opened and a gray-haired woman in overly large chunky-framed glasses stepped out with a severe scowl.
I suppressed a shudder.
“Seven, you’re late. And you brought a friend.”
“Sorry, Janice, my girlfriend and I just lost track of time this morning. You know how new relationships are, all hot and heavy.” I kept my hand on Stella’s elbow, keeping her right by my side as I approached the scowling woman. “This is Stella, the light of my life.”
Stray snorted under her breath and I squeezed her elbow in warning.
“Stella, baby, this is Janice Greenbriar, senior photographer for Notoriety Magazine .”
I’d somewhat expected some fawning or awe for meeting such a well-established and highly regarded photographer. Surely that was the position all paparazzi aspired to? Photographing celebrities with their consent and gaining accolades for their artistic merit, rather than just the salacious content? But Stella just looked Janice up and down and gave a tight-lipped smile.
“Hi,” she offered, folding her arms under her breasts to make it clear she wasn’t going to shake hands or anything.
I wondered briefly, as Janice ushered us inside, whether Stella could sense how little I cared for Janice and was emulating my vibe or if she was just always rude to people she’d never met.
Little explanation was necessary when we entered the studio space, and I was quickly ushered into wardrobe and makeup, leaving Stella to her own devices for a little while. It irritated me that I found myself anxious to know what she was thinking. She remained quiet, sitting on a stack of pallets and watching Janice set up the lighting.
I didn’t like shooting with Janice, but Notoriety was one of the biggest magazines right now. It wasn’t an offer I could turn down easily, so I gritted my teeth and reminded myself I was an adult and a professional as Janice posed me how she wanted.
Janice, unfortunately, liked to be hands on with her posing. I used to think it was just her artistic style, but after speaking with some colleagues, that was not the case.
“Whoa, what the fuck?” Stella exclaimed after twenty minutes into the photoshoot, pulling everyone’s focus. I was wearing nothing but a white button-down—unbuttoned—and a pair of white briefs, and trying to keep my head in the zone. Professional. “Did you seriously just adjust the position of Seven’s dick with your hand, Janice?”
The photographer’s spine stiffened and her lips tightened before spinning to face Stray’s accusation. “I posed my model to get a better shot, yes,” she snapped. “Do you have a problem with that?”
Stella’s wide eyes swung to mine, then back to Janice. “Is that a joke? Yes, I have a problem with that. You can’t just grab a man’s penis without consent, regardless of your profession. What the actual fuck?”
Janice must have been fuming, her shoulders were shaking but she had her back to me. All I could do was shake my head at Stray and silently ask her to let it go. The shoot would be over soon, and we could leave.
I had thought that bringing my girlfriend would mean Janice kept her hands to herself. I’d also hoped that the Notoriety editor was going to be here, so I could introduce Stella and maybe help her get her foot in the door at the magazine. Apparently, I was wrong on both counts.
“I didn’t—” Janice spluttered. “Seven consented to this shoot and as such?—”
“Sev, babe , did you tell Janice it was okay to touch your special place? Are you comfortable with her groping your meat stick in the name of photography?” Stella fluttered her lashes at me, the sarcasm loaded on heavily.
I almost laughed. Almost. It would have been funny if we weren’t literally talking about my dick here.
“I’d prefer she didn’t,” I admitted out loud, since Stella had already burst this can of worms right open.
Janice whirled back to stare at me in horror, like I’d just accused her of sexual assault. “Well, I never. If that’s how you feel, Seven, then I think we’re done here.”
“Great idea,” Stella agreed, not letting me say otherwise. “And before you go feeling like the victim here, Janice, consider how this all might have played out if the genders were reversed. If an older male photographer was caught adjusting a younger actress’s vagina flaps for the photos , I seriously doubt that’d be acceptable, do you?”
Janice seemed shocked speechless, as was I.
Stella needed no response, though, striding over to wardrobe and grabbing an armful of my clothes and shoes. “Come on, Seven, we’re leaving. And, Janice? Don’t be shocked when you see Sev’s written complaint to your boss about this inappropriate conduct. Bye!”
Stunned, confused, and bewildered…I followed.
“Stray, what the fuck?” I whispered as we reached my car. I was still in nothing but my underpants and shirt, barefoot, but she wasn’t waiting around for me to dress. The moment I unlocked the car, she was tossing my stuff inside and strapping into her seat.
Shaking my head with disbelief, I just got in and started up the engine, driving us out of the lot.
Neither of us spoke for a good portion of the drive, then I said the only thing that could fully form in my head. “You’re not like other girls, Stella.”
She snort-laughed so hard, I thought she was going to hurt herself, tears leaking from her eyes as she shook with mirth.
“Oh my god, Spawn, do you ever hear yourself speak? I’m just like every other girl. Literally a dime a dozen. If I’m not like other girls , then you’ve been spending way too much time around vapid airheads like Clara Belle. You’ve lost touch with real women. Don’t worry, precious. I’m here now to bring you back to earth.”
Great. My own personal reality check. Just what I always wanted.
Then, an even more disturbing thought crossed my mind.
Had Stella just saved me from sexual assault? Was I the helpless princess in this fairy tale? Fuck .