20. Cole
Chapter twenty
Cole
It’s been a week since the game’s night, and to the surprise of absolutely nobody, Jenna has avoided me.
On set, she greets me with a simple ‘hello’ and a kiss on the cheek. If I’m lucky, I get the occasional smile. I swear, I even caught her blushing at one point when I overheard one of the extras ask her about what it’s like to date me. But as far as conversations go between the two of us? I can confidently say they’ve been non-existent.
I’ve watched her talk to Tahnee all day. I’ve watched Jude hit on her, knowing full well I could see. Hell, I even watched Gio, Tahnee’s square of a husband, get a laugh out of her.
I’m the guy she’s supposedly dating, and I can’t even hear about how her day is going directly from her.
I didn’t think it’d bother me this much, but apparently, I hate being ignored by the woman I can’t seem to have enough of.
People around us are noticing, too. They’re deeming our ‘relationship’ on the rocks, because we don’t communicate at work, and Mara has upped her flirting game.
She laughs at everything I say and do. She squeezes my biceps, or places her hand on my chest whenever I’m close enough for her to do so.
And every single time, I tell her I’m not interested in her; she thinks I’m flirting back—playing hard to get. Everything I say just falls on deaf ears, though.
“We still have over two months of filming, Cole,” she told me in a whisper. I was seated in Jenna’s chair waiting for my hair and makeup, and she had the nerve to hit on me. “I’ll make you crack.” She winked at me as she stood upright, only putting distance between us because Jenna cleared her throat from behind her.
“That wasn’t what it looked like,” I tried to tell Jenna on instinct, but she waved it off like it was no big deal. And I guess, it wasn’t.
But it felt wrong, and I wanted to clear the air just in case things got out of hand.
“You don’t owe me an explanation, Cole. It’s fine.”
Nine words, and the longest sentence she’d said to me since our car ride home.
She was fucking frustrating.
It’s been a whole week. Seven long days since we fucked in her best friend's home, and with every passing minute, she’s been the only thing on my mind.
Her pink, pouty lips, her full, perky tits, her tiny waist, and those thick thighs.
She has the perfect hourglass figure, and all I can do is watch as the sand slowly dwindles away, and my time with her runs out.
God, everything about her makes me want to beg for more. I’d even be willing to shout from the rooftop of our apartment building that I want to spend what’s left of our time here admiring and worshiping her perfect body. All while buried deep inside of her.
Tongue, or cock—I’d be happy with either—but she’s making it so fucking difficult.
My hand lingers over her apartment door as I try to find the courage to knock on it, but I know that if I knock and wait for her to answer, I could lose my nerve and back out.
So I don’t. I twist the handle to find that she’s left it unlocked.
Perfect.
Inhaling a sharp, steady breath, I burst through the door, finding Jenna’s shocked eyes glaring at me, our surroundings completely blacked out.
All I see is her.
It’s been happening all week, no matter where we are or who we’re with. I could be mid scene, and she’s the one who has all of my focus.
“I don’t know why you’re still avoiding me, Snow, but I told you last week that we were going to fuck and take our time with it, and I meant every damn word. But you’ve continued to avoid me like the fucking plague and I just…I’m over the chase. I want you to let me fuck you into Sunday. My cock has been semi hard all day, every day for a week, Snow. An entire week. And do you know who he needs to calm him down?” I ask, my hands on my hips, but my feet remain still. It’s a rhetorical question, and I watch as she swallows hard, her eyes darting around the room.
“Cole—”
“You. He only wants you. If you want me to beg, I will, but dammit, I just need you to calm him down.” The words spill out of me before I can stop them, and they probably make absolutely no sense, but I’m past the point of caring.
“Uh…hey, Cole.” I hear to the right of me, and I blink rapidly to clear my vision, realizing that Jenna and I are not alone. I see three women in my peripherals, watching us like actors on a stage, and I’ve just put on the performance of my life.
I run my hands over my face so Cassandra, Lizzie and Olive can’t see the embarrassment painted so clearly for all to see. “Ladies,” I say, with a nod. I’m sure my face has returned to its natural color. I don’t get embarrassed easily. Hell, it almost never happens, but apparently it’s never too early to start.
“This night just got so good,” Lizzie says with a giggle, pulling a white throw rug over her legs, resting her elbow on the backrest of the couch. Her cheek rests in her palm as she brings her glass of wine to her lips.
“I think that’s our cue.” Olive stands, ripping the blanket off her twin sister’s lap, ushering her off the couch. Lizzie groans to let everyone know how much she disapproves, but rises to her feet, anyway.
“You kids have fun.” Cassandra is the last to rise from the couch. She collects her belongings from beside her in a rush, without making eye contact with me. She hurries over to a very uncomfortable Jenna, places a kiss on her cheek, and quickly follows both of her sisters out the door.
“You want to explain why you barged through the door to my apartment without so much as a knock, practically begging that I take care of your semi hard penis?” Jenna finally says, crossing her arms over her chest as it rises and falls heavily.
“You want to explain why I was able to do that?” I match her stance, eyebrow quirked, doing my best to keep my face void of all humor. “It’s dangerous to leave your door unlocked. You never know who could break in.”
“We’re in a tiny town. They literally have, like, one cop because the crime rate is non-existent. The worst they have is a big, broody, actor-man with a stupidly sexy face who breaks into apartments, telling them he wants to fuck them all weekend.” She huffs, but her demeanor softens, arms relaxing by her side. Her cheeks are now a soft shade of pink as her eyes rake over my body slowly.
I smirk with a tilt of my head. “You think I have a sexy face?” I attempt to inch closer to her, but she shuffles backward, raising her palms in the air.
“ That’s what you got from what I just said? God, you really do think with just your dick, don’t you?” She pinches the bridge of her nose, shaking her head.
I rub the back of my neck, needing an alternative approach. “Are you drunk?”
Her cheeks are slightly flushed, but from the way she squints at me, I know it was the wrong thing to ask.
She turns away to look anywhere else. “Don’t, Cole.”
She stalks to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of water. “I’ll have you know, I’m nothing like my mother, and I would appreciate it if you didn’t comment on the fact that I like the occasional glass of wine. If I didn’t, last week wouldn’t have happened, the night of the F and T awards wouldn’t have happened, and I definitely wouldn’t be telling you any of this, either. So zip it, Green.” She rolls her eyes, opening her freezer, filling her glass up with ice cubes.
“I thought you were sober at games night?” I ask her, refusing to acknowledge the comment she made about her mother. Learning about her in that way isn’t a line I’m ready to cross.
“I was. But I had one glass of wine, and a cocktail because I like to drink socially. I wasn’t over the limit. Being a social drinker doesn’t mean I have a problem.”
I know close to nothing about Jenna Rogers aside from her profession and the fact that she ignores me whenever she can, with the occasional bout of jealousy. While I don’t necessarily want her to open up to me, I kind of like that she is. It might be rage filled and probably should be directed at someone else, but I’ll take whatever tiny piece of herself that she wants to give me.
I smile to lighten the mood, and get nothing back but a blank expression. “So you only want me when you’ve had a drink, right? A bit of liquid courage to help push you over the edge?” I tease, and she squints at me, crunching on an ice cube.
“If that’s what you want to believe, Cole, sure. Believe it,” she says, resting her hands on the counter, finger tips tapping along the cool surface.
“What I want to believe, Snow, is that you want this as badly as I do. I want to believe you don’t hate me, and that you aren’t ignoring me to be cute or because you think it’s funny. If you were avoiding me because you feel bad for using my body… please don’t. Use me. Take it. No matter where or when, I will gladly be at your disposal. But I also want to believe that by the end of this entire experience, maybe we could be friends, regardless of the fact that we’ve spent the entire time fucking,” I say, and her body stiffens, obviously uncomfortable with my confession.
“Please.” She shakes her head and scrunches up her nose. “I can satisfy myself without the help of a man.” She pours another ice cube into her mouth, but this time she sucks on it, and my dick twitches involuntarily.
She knows what she does to me.
“You told me on the night we met, that the most orgasms you’d had in one night, was four,” I remind her, attempting to round the counter to get closer to her, but she holds her arm out to stop me again. And this time, she shakes her head, too.
“I told you, I don’t need a man. I have a trusty little friend in the top drawer of my nightstand that does the job just fine.” She’s said too much, and she knows it. The second the words slip out of her pretty mouth, her hands fly up to catch them before I hear them, but it’s too late. She’s thrown them out for me to catch, and I do it with both hands.
Grinning at her, we both stand still, eyeing each other in some kind of standoff, wondering who’s going to take the first step toward her bedroom. Her hands fidget at her sides, and I tilt my head slightly.
“Would you like a head start?” I ask, and she takes off at full speed, with me right behind her.
I catch her quickly, looping my arm around her waist as she attempts to wriggle free, but my grip on her is too good. “Cole, please. I was kidding, there’s no toy,” she pleads with me, but I know that Jenna is a sexual person. I learned that the night we met. Only an idiot would believe that she doesn’t have at least one lying around.
I’m surprised she didn’t arrive in town with an entire suitcase full.
Holding her in place, my arm still snug around her, I use my free hand to rip open her drawer on her nightstand, and the bright pink vibrator in question stares back at me. “No toy, huh?” I clasp it in my fingers, pushing the button on the end to turn it on. It buzzes softly in my hands, and she groans while trying to fight herself free, but my grip around her tightens. “Should we use it?” I ask as a thousand filthy thoughts run through my mind, but one in particular taking the crown.
“ We shouldn’t use anything,” she says with minimal conviction, before squirming free from my grasp. She lands backward on her bed with her legs spread slightly.
“Are you sure about that, Snow? Because the words coming out of your mouth tell me one thing, but the look in those ocean eyes are telling me another.” I nudge her legs further apart slightly with my fist, kneeling on the ground in front of her, the toy still in my hand. Pressing the same button, the toy vibrates harder and louder. “Tell me you want me to touch you with it, and I will,” I whisper. Jenna nibbles her lower lip, throwing her head back onto the bed, and I know she wants it.
“I’m not sure about anything anymore, Cole.” She groans, covering her eyes with her forearm as she rests her back down onto her bed. Her dress sits slightly above her knee, and I hike it up even more, little bruises on her inner thighs now visible.
“These from me?” I ask as my palm glides over them, proud of the marks I’d left on her.
“No, they’re from Robbie,” she says sarcastically, and I squeeze her thigh just below the marks. “Fuck. Sorry. Yes, they’re from you.” She breathes out. “They’re from you.”
“Good.” I release my grip, her face still covered. “Tell me I can, Snow.”
“Please, yes. Do it.”
Tracing her thigh with my fingertips, I find her panties soaked when I reach the center, and I just wish she would give in and admit she wants me.
Slipping her underwear down her legs, she sucks in a sharp breath, her nails digging into my arm. Her vibrator is gently resting on her pussy, sensitive and desperate. Her back arches against the bed. “God, I want to hate you so bad,” she mutters, and I hover over her body, kissing her quickly.
I make it deep, desperate, and I make it fucking count.
“I have a feeling you’re about to hate me even more,” I finally say when I pull my mouth away from hers, pressing the button on her pink friend to switch it off. I rise to my feet, and head straight for her apartment door.
“Where the fuck are you going?” she shouts, her voice mortified that I’ve just left her all riled up, no doubt on the brink of an orgasm, and taken the only thing she claims can get the job done.
“When you stop avoiding me and finally admit that you want me, I’ll give it back to you. Until then, your little friend belongs to me,” I shout back, slamming her door behind me, my manic laughter echoing through the empty halls and foyer of the building.
Making a desperate dash to the elevator, I bash the button, and hope it arrives before she does.