Chapter 21
ANYA
The last scene of the day is in the courtroom again, which means I can’t linger near the action and have to wait in the hallway. Despite being near the craft table, it feels like I’m waiting for a sentencing myself.
I spend the entire scene leaning up against the wall, avoiding eye contact with any of the crew lest they can somehow tell what I’ve been up to in Danny’s trailer. The stubborn flush in my cheeks is relentless, hardly fading as the memories of his hands on my body serve as a wicked reminder.
I pull out my phone for something to do, scrolling mindlessly through emails, desperately trying to assemble my jumbled thoughts into some sort of order.
Could I really jeopardize my career by sleeping with the lead star?
With Danny Covington ?
Would everyone know? There is no way it wouldn’t spread like wildfire if it got out. People would roll their eyes at Danny sleeping with someone who is essentially his PA, but me? I would be branded a slut and probably blacklisted for the rest of my career, destroying it before it even began.
Would he even want to do it again? Now that we’ve done it twice, maybe he’s over it. Maybe he’s got it–me–out of his system. Which would be a good thing. Obviously. Even if I would probably sell my kidney just to bury my head in his chest and feel his strong arms wrap around me one more time.
I could survive on just the memories, and one day when my grandchildren are watching Better You Know on TV, I can point and say “ He was a fabulous lover. ” and cackle whilst they all cringe. I could cope with that.
Of course, that would mean I would have to deal with seeing him everyday for the next month, knowing exactly what he tastes like and the look on his face when he comes.
What could he possibly want to talk about? Surely he’ll just say that it will never happen again. Why would Danny Covington want to keep hooking up with me ? There are plenty of other women who would be happy and willing to warm his bed. Or his trailer. God, I bite my lip and glance around the empty hallway as memories of this afternoon assault me. Maybe he only wants me because I’m here. Because I’m convenient.
I cannot sleep with him again and ruin my career. I just can’t! My job isn’t even a real job for god’s sake, and I need to nurture as many connections and get as much experience as I can possibly squeeze out of this position. Sleeping with Danny Covington would only make that infinitely more complicated. Even if it is the best sex of my life.
“That’s a wrap, great work everyone.” I hear Rachel shout from the set. I stand straight and decide that whatever Danny has to say to me now, I will leave with my dignity and my clothing intact.
Danny slides out of the room, glancing around until he spots me. I take a calming breath and head over to him. I pull his phone out of my pocket and hand it to him.
“Good scene?” I ask, awkwardly.
He nods, placing his phone in his pocket without powering it on. “Yeah.” He licks his lip and I pull my hand to flatten nonexistent wayward strands of my hair.
“Let’s go,” I say. “Costume are de-rigging you here so you can just go straight home.”
He nods and follows me to the room allocated by costume so he can change into his street clothes.
I wait outside, trying really hard not to think about the fact that a wooden door is all that separates me from his naked body.
He emerges fully dressed in jeans and a t-shirt and I nearly swallow my tongue. How is he so gorgeous? And how have I already had him? Twice!
We leave, waving goodbye to people as we pass. I don’t look at him, even when we settle in the car. I find myself pressing against the door, as if to increase the limited space between us. Will he say something now? I hear him breathe and can feel his gaze on the side of my face.
I practically dislocate my neck peering out the window.
We pull up outside his hotel.
“Freckles,” he says softly.
With a glance at Jaques, I turn to him, a false smile pulling at my lips. “You must be tired, it’s been a long day.”
“Yeah, it’s been an eventful day.” His eyes burn into mine for a heated second before he gets out and rounds to my side. My hand lingers on the door. When I open it, something is going to happen. If I stay right here, nothing will be said and everything will stay the same. I catch Jaques’ quirked eyebrow in the rear-view mirror and the distraction allows Danny to pull my door open.
I gulp. Saying a fumbling goodbye to Jaques, I clamber out of the car. I rub my sweaty palms on my jeans and I wait until the car pulls away from the curb before I say, “Well I should get goin—”
“Freckles,” he interrupts, grabbing my fingers. Before I have time to speak, he’s pulling me through the front doors.
Dutifully, I follow him through the lobby, marveling at the feel of his warm palm in mine. The foyer is empty as we make our way to the elevator.
Before the doors even finish closing he’s on me, pressing me into the wall as his lips descend on mine. I moan as I part my lips for him, my hands rising to the nape of his neck.
His body presses into mine as he groans, his lips leaving mine to run down my neck, licking and kissing as he explores my skin.
“Danny,” I breathe, as his lips catch mine again. “We said we’d talk.”
“We will.” He says against my lips. “After.”
The elevator doors opening save me from speaking. He pulls away and tugs me into the hallway. Anything I had planned to say earlier has slipped between my fingers like the strands of his smooth hair. When he releases me to pull his key from his pocket, I press my fingers to my tingling lips.
Get it together Anya, I tell myself.
Inside the room, he presses me against the door, claiming my lips again, his tongue teasing mine. I can’t catch my breath, let alone summon the words that are lingering at the edge of my mind.
“You taste so fucking good,” he mumbles as he runs his hands down my side, clasping my thigh in his hand and hiking it around his hip. I whimper at the new angle as he grinds into me.
Heat spreads across my body at the pressure. My hands work their way back to his hair, my fingers spreading through the silky strands. I tug his hair until his head pulls back. His hooded eyes linger on my surely swollen lips.
I swallow. “We need to talk.”
We both take a breath, my chest heaving, brushing against his.
He steps back and readjusts himself in his jeans. “Do you, ah, want a drink? I have wine.”
“God, yes.” I pull the hair off my neck, attempting to cool down. “Wait, no. Wine and this ,” I wave my hand between us, “is a terrible hindrance on my ability to think logically.”
He smirks as he hands me a glass. “I already poured.”
I take it gratefully, swallowing a large swig as I perch on the small armchair.
He sits on the coffee table, so close to me his knees on either side of mine. He sets his glass on the table.
“So,” he says, looking entirely too pleased at my flustered bumbling.
“So,” I parrot, taking another gulp. “You go first.”
He laughs as he runs his hands through his hair, “I think you know what I’m going to say.”
I shake my head. I have no idea what’s going through his head.
“I like fucking you.” Well then. “And I think you like it too. So we should do it again.”
I can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of me. “It’s pretty simple when you say it like that.”
His grin lights me up inside.
I take another sip of my wine, the whole glass nearly empty.
“Do you?” he asks, his blue eyes dark.
“Stop looking at me like that and saying things to me.”
He laughs, “So don’t look at you or speak to you?”
“Ideally.”
“Sure thing.” He doesn’t look away.
Taking a deep breath, I try to assemble my thoughts. “Okay, so I mean. You are — you. Ah, I don’t know!”
“Why are you overthinking this, freckles?”
“I’m not over thinking, I’m just thinking .”
He stays silent, his fingers tracing my thigh through my jeans.
“If anything, I’m doing your thinking for you,” I say.
“I’m usually pretty good at doing that on my own, but thank you.”
“So,” I pause. “You want to…”
“Fuck you, yes.”
“Gah.” I stand and escape to the window.
He follows, his hand coming to rest on my hip.
“What is it baby? If you don’t want this, it’s okay.” His hand drifts to my front, his pinky finger resting on the slip of skin where my shirt has ridden up. “But I think you do want this.” I place my hand on the window. We’re high up enough that the people on the street can’t see us but it doesn’t stop the streak of arousal that pools in my belly.
He gently brushes my hair over my shoulder and I can’t help but tilt my head, baring my neck to him. His hot mouth presses a kiss against my pulse and his wicked fingers open the button of my jeans.
My head falls back against his chest as his hand descends into my underwear, his fingers finding the evidence of my arousal instantly. His finger strokes gently teases my clit and I moan. Am I really letting this happen?
I can just about make out our reflection in the window. The sight of his lips on my throat, his strong arm banded across my chest and his hands in my jeans, is almost enough to send me over the edge.
“Tell me what you want, baby,” he says, nipping my ear with his teeth.
There’s no use denying what my body is screaming. “I want you,” I admit with a whisper.
I protest as he pulls his hand out of my jeans and spins me so my back is pressing against the cool glass of the window. His mouth finally claims mine. His tongue licks across my bottom lip as I open for him.
“Say it again.”
“I want you.”
His hands tighten on my hips as he twists me again, walking me back until I fall on the mattress. My hands make quick work of his belt until I’m tugging his cock free. He groans as I wrap my hand around him, pumping him once, twice. He yanks my jeans down my legs and I laugh as they get stuck on my shoes.
He quickly throws my clothes across the room. He grabs a condom from the bedside table and comes to rest between my spread legs.
“Yeah?” He asks, breathlessly, holding his cock at the base.
I lick my lips. I think I might die if I don’t feel him inside me. “Please,” I beg, reaching for him.
He hitches himself at my entrance and with the softest kiss, pushes inside me. I moan at the sensation, his hardness filling me and hitting that spot deep inside me. He thrusts, gently at first before speeding up. My whole body moves at the force of his movements and my hand stretches to the headboard for support. He leans up on his arm and his hand descends between us. I cry at the first brush of his fingers on my clit and it isn’t long before I’m falling off the edge, my orgasm barreling through me in waves and waves of pleasure.
Danny doesn’t give me a moment to recover before his hand slides beneath my thigh and pulls my leg to my chest. The new angle sends sparks through my body.
“Freckles,” he groans before his orgasm overtakes him and he collapses on top of me, burying his head in my neck.
We lie there as we catch our breath, his weight on top of me the most comforting embrace. Eventually, pressing a kiss to my lips, he rolls off me, disposing of the condom before opening his arm to me. I rest my head on his chest and run my fingers across his toned abdomen.
He kisses my hair, his fingers playing with the strands.
“So,” he says, “are we doing this?”
I rest my chin on his chest as I look up at him.
“What is this?” I ask, curious as to what he’s going to say.
He throws me that wicked smirk. “We can figure that out along the way. But for now, we hang out, we fuck, we enjoy ourselves.”
It sounds like the worst idea I’ve ever had. Maybe my orgasm has rattled my brain but I still can’t quite deny myself this. We can be discreet, can’t we?
“Okay,” I say.
His smile is almost blinding. “Okay.”
I rest my head back on his chest, listening to his heart beat.
“We’ll need to keep this quiet.”
I snort. “Obviously. I’m not having everyone on set thinking I’m trying to get a leg up.”
He chuckles as he rolls so I’m underneath him, he swipes his nose across mine. “Let’s keep it just between us.”
“Just us,” I agree as his lips claim mine once more.