15. Avery
I don’t sleep.
I can’t. It’s impossible. Not with my body still wound tight and the memory of Duke’s voice commanding, low in my ear.
“Keep that smart mouth shut while I make you come…”
I bury my face in the pillow and let out a wail.
I mean, come on. Dirty talk has never really been my thing with other guys, but clearly, they’ve been doing it all wrong, because Duke’s low, possessive growl got me hotter than I’ve ever been in my life before.
And I’m still burning up.
I want more.
I grab my phone off the nightstand, breathing hard. I could text him right now, a casual little 2 a.m. U up? message and a flirty photo that would bring him running to my door to pick up right where we left off…
Except, this is Duke, I realize with a groan. He’s stubborn. Infuriatingly unaffected by my charms. The usual rules of seduction don’t apply with him. I bet he’s not even awake right now. Nope, he’s probably sleeping the sound, peaceful slumber of a man who doesn’t jump to anyone’s command.
Which of course, is even more sexy.
Damn him.
I spendthe rest of the night twisting naked in my sheets, until the morning light breaks through the window, and I give into temptation and reach beneath the covers to touch myself. Again.
“You’re a work of art…”
My fingers move faster as I lose myself replaying every dirty, delicious moment. And god, there are plenty to pick from. The way he touched me… the ravenous passion in his eyes…
His world-class, A-list, mind-blowingly filthy mouth.
My own expert fingers are still nowhere near as good as the feel of his, but I still come, moaning out loud with the rush of release.
God. Between Duke and this heatwave, I’m going to need a cold shower morning, noon, and night. But just as I’m about to go rinse off, I hear the sound of the gate swing open, and then a moment later, there’s a knock at the cottage door.
I pause. The paparazzi don’t knock, and besides, they’ve given me some breathing room now that we’re feeding them a steady supply of official photo-ops. Why spend hours loitering outside the cottage with no coffee or bathrooms when they can just wait in comfort for Quinn’s not-so-anonymous call?
No, it’s not them. So who’s at my door at seven in the morning?
Duke.
My pulse kicks. Maybe he was up all night thinking about me, too. Maybe he couldn’t wait to see me, and had to drive straight over…
There’s another knock.
I tumble out of bed and grab the nearest robe before rushing downstairs. “Just a minute!” I call, frantically checking my reflection in the hall mirror. I look messy and flushed, with my cheeks bright red and my hair in a wild tangle like I just got dragged backwards through a hedge.
Like I just orgasmed moaning his name.
But hey, maybe that’s not a bad thing.
I fling open the door with a seductive smile. “I was hoping you’d come….”
My words die in my throat, because it’s not Duke. Nope, standing on my doorstep, looking casual and put-together, is the last person I ever expected to see.
It’s the director, Madeline Marrone.
Shit.
“Hi!” I blurt, yanking my robe tighter and patting at my hair. “I… umm… what are you doing here? Did we have a meeting scheduled, or…?” I gulp, wishing to god I had some warning.
Or, you know, real clothes on.
I’m going to kill Max.
But Madeline smiles, friendly. She’s got her dark hair pulled back in a low bun, and a pair of chunky vintage glasses on, wearing casual jeans and a crisp men’s button-down, intimidatingly cool. “I know, it’s weird, me just showing up like this. But I got your audition tape, and I was driving back to New York, and I just thought, why not cut out all the endless agent back-and-forth, and just drop by and meet you in person?”
I gape. “You saw my tape?”
“Yes.” Madeline’s expression is impossible to read. It could have impressed her, or been the worst pile of trash she’s ever witnessed.
She glances around. “Do you want to go get a cup of coffee? I saw a place in town on my drive through. Unless… I’m interrupting something,” she adds, eyeing my disheveled appearance with a faint grin.
Oh god,I cringe. She thinks she caught me in the middle of a wild sex marathon!
“Give me five minutes!” I blurt. “I’ll be right out!”
I flee back upstairs, realizing too late that I should have invited her in, and sat her down to wait with sparkling water, or fancy tea, or whatever it is you offer visionary artists who have the power to change your entire career with a single role.
But it’s too late. Now, all I can do is try to undo this terrible first impression, so she doesn’t think I’m a complete airhead slut– like every tabloid has been screaming for months.
Where’s a nun’s habit when you need one?
I dive into the shower, and manage to pull myself together in record time: dragging a brush through my birds’ nest hair, and matching her cool-girl vibe with a pair of cutoffs and a loose peasant blouse. OK, it’s technically seven-and-a-half minutes before I’m able to meet her out front, but I’ve got mascara on, clean pits, and even a swipe of lipgloss, too.
Now I just have to hope I can talk my way into the role of my dreams.
We headinto Blackberry Cove and pick up coffees, taking a stroll around the town square. “Cute town,” Madeline remarks, looking around.
“It’s great!” I agree enthusiastically. “Everyone’s so friendly, it has really fun vibes.”
Vibes?
I scold myself. This is a sophisticated filmmaker here. The next Greta Gerwig or Sophia Coppola. I’m supposed to be impressing her with my intelligence and insight, not babbling away like I’m auditioning for a trashy reality show!
“Relax,” Madeline tells me, as if my nerves are written all over my face. “This isn’t an interrogation. I just wanted to meet in person, that’s all. I’ve seen a couple of your movies, but, well, you tend to play a certain type.”
“I know,” I agree with a sigh. “I’m the hot girlfriend, or the chick the hero gets to bang in the end. Occasionally with a nice crying scene, if I’m lucky.” I shrug. “And if they don’t cut it for time.”
“Come on,” Madeline protests, looking amused. “What about The Last Time You Left Me?” she asks, naming the one good project I’ve acted in; the one that made me think I was finally leveling up my career.
At least, before the tabloids decided to move in for the kill.
“It was great to dig my teeth into something with more substance,” I agree, as we take a seat on one of the benches. “That’s why I’m so excited about your project. Amelia is a fascinating subject,” I tell her eagerly. “I’ve been doing a ton of research.”
“I could tell,” Madeline says, with an assessing gaze. “Reading her letters for your audition tape, that’s a ballsy move.”
I gulp. Is that a good thing?
“I wanted to get in her head,” I explain, self-conscious. “All the books say she was passionate, obsessive. Every time she got in a plane, she knew it could be her last flight. There’s something fascinating about that mindset, taking that kind of risk. Loving it, even.”
Madeline just nods and sips her coffee. She’s impossible to read, which only makes me more nervous. Then a new thought strikes me. “Have you already decided on casting?” I ask, worried. Because if she’s already got an A-lister lined up, then I don’t stand a chance.
“No, I’m still thinking it over,” Madeline replies. “It’s a big choice,” she adds, giving me another thoughtful stare over the frames of her glasses. “It’s been hard enough for me to be taken seriously as a female director. Getting this film financed, with a studio willing to support the release, it’s going to be an uphill battle. And the reality is, who I cast could be the difference between getting the project made and in movie theaters… or not.”
My heart sinks.
“Then I’m the last person you want to pick,” I sit back with a sigh.
“Why’s that?”
“Come on,” I give her a look. “We all know, I’m a liability right now. The things people are saying about me, the photos,” I add grimly. “I know I would work my ass off if I had the chance, and I could be good, really good in this role, but… I know you’ve come a long way to even get to this point. I would hate to be the thing holding this movie back,” I tell her. “Some people are just never going to take me seriously, and it’s not just the old guys who write the checks, either.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Madeline says cryptically. “If there’s one thing Hollywood loves, it’s a reinvention.”
She gets to her feet before I can reply. “I’ve got to get going. But it was great meeting you,” she adds, flashing a brief smile. “I’ll be in touch when I make a decision about the role.”
“Thank you,” I bounce up. “I mean, thanks for watching my tape, and coming out here, and… well, not laughing in my face that I could even try and get cast for this.”
Madeline shakes her head. “Don’t do that. Don’t start believing what they say about you. It’s fine for people to underestimate what you’re capable of. Hell, I get that all the time, just walking onto a set. But you won’t change anything unless you believe in yourself first.”
She strolls away, leaving me to try and figure out if that was a “let-her-down-easy” pep talk – or an, “I’ll-be-seeing-you-soon” hint that I’m still in the game.
Does this mean I still have a shot?
I can’t help feel a surge of excitement. Just the fact she didn’t immediately toss my email in the junk file is a huge victory– let alone wanting to sit down and meet me in person. She hasn’t written me off– not yet.
The audition self-tape worked!
And I would never have thought to send it, if it hadn’t been for Duke...
Impulsively, I hop in my car, and drive out to his construction site. It’s not far from town, and when I arrive, I find the place quiet. Duke is alone in a corner of the half-framed house, consulting over blueprints with a stub of pencil tucked behind his ear.
He looks focused, and capable… and handsome as hell.
“Look me in the eye…”
His words from last night echo in my mind, and my body temperature shoots up another couple of degrees just watching him.
Then he looks up and sees me, and a surprised smile spreads across his face. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.” Duke comes to meet me. “Don’t tell me you’ve found another bar brawl you need backup for.”
I laugh. “Even better!”
I fill him in on Madeline’s unexpected visit– minus the part where I’d just been driving myself crazy to the memory of his touch. “Isn’t it amazing? She has her pick of talent, and she came out of her way just to talk to me. Now I want to work with her even more,” I add, excited. “I can already tell she’s smart, and thoughtful,” I pause my gushing, trying not to get carried away. “But I know, there are still a ton of hoops to jump through?—”
“No ‘buts’ about it,” Duke cuts me off, grinning. “This is huge. I told you, sometimes you’ve just got to cut through the bullshit, and take your shot.”
I pause. I want to throw my arms around his shoulders and hug him, but I’m suddenly self-conscious. Barely twelve hours ago, Duke had his fingers inside me, driving me out of my mind with his gaze locked intently on mine. But now, in the bright light of day, it feels way too intimate just looking him in the eye.
I clear my throat, blushing. “Anyway, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just wanted to tell you ‘thanks’, for giving me the idea.”
“It’s no interruption.” Duke rolls the blueprints away. “We’re actually on pause here today, waiting for a permit to come through. I was going to deal with some paperwork, but… do you have plans?”
“You mean, besides obsessing over every moment of my meeting with Madeline?” I ask, only half-kidding.
He chuckles. “I think we can find a way to distract you.”
A hot, sweaty, naked way…
But just as my imagination roars to life in all its technicolor, surround-sound glory, Duke adds, “There’s a festival on, a couple of towns over. Do you want to go check it out?”
A festival. In public. With our clothes on.
“Sounds good,” I agree quickly, covering for my filthy mind. “Just as long as there’s something to eat. I was so nervous with Madeline, I haven’t had a bite today.”
Duke grins. “You haven’t been to many local festivals, have you?”
I shake my head. “No, why?”
“Trust me,” he says, steering me towards his truck. “Finding you a snack will be the least of our problems.”