Chapter 20
ANYA
The door closes behind him so quietly he might as well have slammed it.
I sit there, gaping like a fish for a few seconds before I scurry out the car after him. Who is he having lunch with? For a second, I thought he meant he wanted lunch for me too, so that we could eat together. Of course, that was stupid. He probably wants nothing to do with me. I need to stay away from him from now on. It’s for the best. It’s what I wanted to happen.
So why did my stomach ache at the thought?
I hurry behind him as he makes his way to set, clutching his dead phone in my hand. He never usually switches it off, usually trusting me to not be weird and look through it unless necessary. He doesn’t want me to look at it at all. Is he already seeing someone else?
Not that what we had constituted seeing each other. Although, we definitely saw a lot of each other.
It was one night. It’s no big deal, he’s allowed to date whoever we wants.
Not that he’s necessarily dating whoever he’s invited to his trailer.
The set today is a courtroom, a local one in the fifteenth arrondissement. Danny immediately heads to Gwendoline, listening to her as she starts to block out the scene.
Spotting Lauren, I sidle up next to her.
“Hey,” she says, not looking up from her iPad.
“Hey, do you know anything about a visitor for Danny today?”
She doesn’t glance up. “Nope. Probably a French supermodel or something to pass the time, you know how he is.”
Lauren walks away after that lovely bombshell. A French supermodel. My chest burns and I have to physically unclench my jaw before I break a tooth.
The scene is a long one so I settle in the corridor outside the set, propped up against the wall with my arms crossed across my chest and Danny’s switched off phone clutched in my fist. The scene rolls on and he’s on fire. It’s a tense scene, one where Danny’s character has to defend himself with a quiet anger, keeping himself leashed. For once, Gwendoline has no notes for him, only the supporting actors or the camera angles.
Pride swells in my chest but I stomp it down. He’s probably only doing well so he can get through the scene and burn off some energy in his trailer.
When they call wrap on the scene, I don’t walk over to Danny and collect him like I usually do. I wait for him to come to me, the phone in my hand calling to him like a carrot on a stick. When he reaches me, I turn and walk away, his phone still in my hand.
Am I being petty? Yes. Do I care? No.
We get to the car and I open it for him. I feel his presence at my side as he holds his hand out expectantly. I drop his phone in his waiting palm.
“I’ll stick around here. Jess has your lunch orders .” I make sure to emphasize the plural. “I’ll be back to pick you up for makeup in an hour and a half.” I close the door behind him before biting through the open window. “Hope that’s enough time for you.”
I can’t help the glare I level him with as he looks up and catches my eye for the first time in days. He gives me a saccharine grin. “Oh, it will be.”
I give him a sarcastic smile that drops before he even looks away. I turn around, refusing to watch the car pull away. My insides boiling.
Later, after I’ve got enough strange looks from the crew for hanging around like a bad smell, I return to base.
My jaw hurts from how hard I’ve held it clenched. As I near the truck, I try to see if I can see it rocking. Logically, I know the structure is too sturdy but it wouldn’t surprise me for Danny’s thrusts to be that powerful.
Each step towards the truck feels like I’m walking through drying cement, the thought of his hands on another woman — a tall, beautiful woman who has probably never had a hair on her chin — makes me feel ready to throw up.
It’s cruel really, to know what a night with Danny Covington is like. To know what his lips feel like on mine, and how his clever fingers can tease me to my peak. Even with the sour thoughts of what he’s doing in his trailer, I can’t stop the warm flush that envelopes my body at the memory of his lips tracing down my neck.
Taking a deep breath, I steel myself at the door to the trailer. If he’s going to be immature about this , I think, so will I.
I bang on the door, loudly announcing my presence. I yank it open with a level of force that almost knocks me back down the narrow steps, and I raise my hand to cover my eyes — partially for self preservation but mostly for the drama.
“You’re needed in makeup,” I snap into the darkness.
My senses are heightened. The door slams behind me and I listen out for any noises from the direction of the couch. Nothing. My imagination runs wild. Maybe they haven’t moved at all, maybe he’s still deep in the throes. Is that a rustle? Is that him or her? Is he pulling his clothes back on?
“What are you doing?” Danny asks with an amused lilt. I don’t have to look at him to know he’s smirking. Prick.
“I don’t want to burn my retinas,” I say primly.
He chuckles softly, I swear I feel his breath on my face. When did he get so close?
“Put your hand down, freckles.”
Biting my cheek and preparing myself to look at his conquest, I lower my hand, pinning him with my coldest glare.
Out of the corner of my eye, I scan the trailer.
We’re alone.
“What did you think I was doing in here?”
He looks the same as he did when I left him, dark t-shirt perfectly sculpted to his chest and a heated look in his eye. I cross my arms across my chest. “Just wanted to give you your privacy.”
“That’s a first.”
I huff, hands falling to my sides.
“My sister dropped by an hour ago.”
I blink. “Your sister?”
“Flying visit before meeting friends in the Marais.” His smile is cocky. “Did you think I had someone in here, freckles?”
Refusing to meet his gaze, I step back. He follows me moving into my space until my back is against the counter.
“Did you think I had a woman in here?” His hands rest on the counter, caging me in. His proximity makes me instantly woozy, and my legs start to wobble. His piercing eyes drop to my mouth.
“You did have a woman in here,” I protest, weakly. His proximity is overwhelming. If he tilts forward just slightly we’ll be kissing.
“Freckles.”
I swallow. “You need to be in makeup.”
“Not yet.” He tilts his head forward slightly until his forehead rests against mine. I couldn’t move away even if I wanted to. My heart is beating so loud I’m sure he can hear it. “Come on baby, tell me. Tell me what you think I was doing in this trailer.”
Tingles erupt across my body as his breath fans my cheek.
“I thought—” I break off, my mouth dry. Curse him for doing this to me.
“Did you think I was fucking someone else? While you were on the other side of the door torturing yourself with the thought?”
He presses closer to my body, my breasts brushing against his chest with every haggard breath I inhale. As he presses closer, words and anger escape me in a breath that brushes against his cheeks. All that is left is the feel of him pressed against me and the sound of my thumping heart.
“There’s only one woman I want.” This is torture. He tilts my chin with his fingers, dragging my eyes to him. My eyelids feel heavy and arousal takes control of my body, as easy as breathing. “You want that too, don’t you baby?”
His lips ever so slightly brush mine. I hear a whimper and with a jolt realize it came from me.
His lips pull away, and my head feels like it’s attached to a magnet as I chase him in his retreat. I’m going to explode if he doesn’t touch me. Suspended in the moment, all I can think about it the feel of his lips on mine. Anticipation thrums in my chest.
Ignoring the small voice in the back of my head that’s telling me this is a terrible idea, I capture his lips with mine.
Pulling back, lips tingling, I finally look in his eyes. And then we explode.
He crushes into me. My hands raise to his head, tangling in his hair and pulling him closer. His arms tighten around my waist before he effortlessly lifts me onto the counter.
His weight between my spread legs makes me moan as I feel his hardness right there.
He grinds into me, biting my bottom lip before his fingers come to my chin, clasping it tightly and forcing me to look up at him. His thumb pulls at my bottom lip, opening my mouth wider.
“You’ve been ignoring me.” His eyes are glued to my plump lip under his fingertip. “Tell me you feel this Anya.” He rubs his nose against mine. “Tell me you want this as much as I do. Tell me this distance has been driving you crazy.”
I can’t remember how to speak. I whimper as his other hand spreads up my leg, moving to the juncture between my thighs. His fingers tease the seam of my jeans and my eyes flutter closed.
“Tell me baby, and I’ll give you what you want.”
Heart pounding, I’m desperate to clamp my thighs together, to make his fingers move and relieve this torturous ache.
“Please,” I beg. “I want you.” He groans and presses his fingers firmly though my jeans.
“You’re mine, Anya.” He tilts my head back, that damn thumb pulling my mouth open wider. My heart races as I somehow know exactly what he’s going to do. He brushes his thumb against my lip, and my mouth follows it, my toes curling in my shoes. His thumb scrapes across my bottom teeth and my tongue flicks against his skin. I open wider for him, wrapping my lips around his digit, desperate to be feel him on my tongue.
With a groan, he yanks his hand away and replaces it with his mouth. We attack each other with frenzy. I clamp my legs around his hips, pulling him closer, his length pressing against me, in the most delicious tease. He quickly unbuttons my jeans and plunges his fingers into my underwear, his attention right where I need him. I let out a haggard breath as I desperately reach for his zipper, taking his cock in my hand.
“Condom?” I ask breathlessly, as I squeeze his hot length.
He pulls my jeans off completely, throwing them on the floor and reaching into his pocket. He hands me a condom and I take over, rolling it over him as an excuse to touch him. I guide him to me and the first flex of his hips has him sliding into me. Deep.
We both freeze at the sensation. His head buries into my neck as he groans. I clutch his hair and try to catch my breath. He rolls his hips, pulling out and back in so, so slowly. His hands settle on my ass, pulling me onto him in time with each flex of his hips.
His fingers return to my clit, and it isn’t long before I’m tumbling off the edge, his tongue in my mouth, his fingers on my clit and his cock deep inside me.
He follows soon after, clutching my thighs tightly to his hips.
I rest my forehead against his chest, still covered by his t-shirt. I can feel his heart beating erratically through the cotton.
God, we didn’t even take all our clothes off. He presses a kiss to my forehead and slowly pulls out.
“Danny,” I start softly. I don’t even know how I’m going to finish my sentence.
He brushes the hair out of my face and tilts my head gently to look at him. “Don’t. Don’t deny us this.”
I take a deep breath, his blue eyes pleading. Maybe it’s the orgasm but I can’t think of a single reason not to do this. Not to allow myself — us — this electric chemistry.
Whatever he sees in my eyes has him backing off, reaching for my jeans and helping me hop off the counter. Which is good because my legs are trembling so much I don’t think I can stand.
“I’m going to freshen up,” I say, clutching my jeans to my chest and heading for the small bathroom.
“Okay.”
Closing the door behind me, I race to the sink and splash cool water on my face. Looking in the mirror, I take in my bedraggled appearance. I look like I’ve been thoroughly fucked. Great.
Pulling my jeans back on and attempting to look respectable, I take a steadying breath and head back into the room.
He’s where I left him, leaning against the counter. My tongue feels heavy in my mouth.
“Okay look freckles, before you say anything, you need to stop overthinking it.” He runs his hand through his hair. “This doesn’t have to be anything more than it is.”
I swallow. “I just need some time.”
“Let’s talk after wrap.”
I nod shakily, still trying to lower my blood pressure.
He nods seriously. “That was pretty hot though.”
An incredulous laugh bubbles out of me. Trust him to make me laugh at a time like this.
“I’ll come back to take you to makeup soon,” I say as I push the door open, rushing down the stairs into the fresh air as I try to decide what the hell I’m going to say after wrap.