Chapter 11 #2
They bounced along the narrow track, and Finn’s thigh pressed against hers on the little seat.
Violet tried to shrink into the corner, but as the vehicle tilted on the rough terrain, she nearly slipped out.
Her right hand flung out to the side as she tried to find something to hold on to and grabbed Finn’s knee.
‘Please, Violet,’ Finn said. ‘I know you want me, but not in front of other people.’
The driver didn’t seem to hear over the grumble of the machine.
Violet scowled at him and opened her mouth to say something before they clipped a tree root, and she was thrown fully into Finn.
They were both wearing bulky coats against the early morning chill, but to Violet it felt like skin-on-skin contact.
She clenched her buttocks, grabbed the upright with both hands, and tried to lean away from him.
Finn stretched an arm behind her, along the back of the seats.
‘Are you that repulsed by me?’ he said in a low voice that rumbled in her ear. Violet felt a shiver travel down her spine. ‘I thought you said I was wearing you down?’
‘Tuh, shut up,’ she mumbled. ‘I’m trying to keep a professional,’ the little vehicle lurched over a fallen branch strewn across the path and jumped into the air. ‘Distance.’
She gasped as they landed. ‘I don’t like these things,’ she said, her left hand holding on for dear life to the metal upright beside her.
Finn leaned forward and squeezed the shoulder of the driver.
‘Mate, could you go a bit slower, please?’ he asked. ‘We want to get there in one piece.’
The driver nodded, and the quad slowed to a more sedate scramble.
‘Thanks,’ Violet muttered in Finn’s general direction.
‘Welcome.’
He grinned at her.
They sat in silence, and Violet prayed they’d make it to the location before her croissant returned for an encore.
‘I don’t like them much either,’ Finn said after a moment, leaning closer to her. ‘I feel like I’m about to be launched across the woods. But I didn’t want to say anything or ask the driver to slow down in case you thought I was a wimp.’
Violet took in his words and noticed that where his right hand gripped the upright metal post, his knuckles were white.
‘So you made it look like you were helping me, but really you were helping yourself?’ she asked.
‘What does it matter if we both get what we want?’ Finn said, his head bent towards hers.
Violet was glad that they were outside, hurtling through the woods in a death machine, fighting for their lives.
Much as she knew he was a lazy, entitled charmer who schmoozed his way through life, when his thigh and arm were pressed against hers, and he gazed at her with those dark eyes, she temporarily forgot about what a horrible human he was.
The driver slowed to a stop beside a little luminous pink sign that read LOC 1. Violet clambered out, legs as wobbly as a sailor returning from a year at sea.
‘Whoa there,’ Finn said, as Violet pitched to the left.
He grabbed her and held her still for a moment.
Violet wasn’t sure what was more responsible for her feeling woozy, the quad ride or Finn holding her by the shoulders and looking down at her with concern.
She was vaguely aware of the driver spinning the vehicle around and heading back down the track. Finn’s face loomed into focus.
‘You okay, Vi? Want me to—’
She could feel the warmth of his breath near her temple as he spoke. He was too close. Violet flapped her arms suddenly, dislodging Finn’s grip.
‘Yes! Fine, thank you for asking.’
Stepping back, she spun on her heel and started walking deeper into the woods with far more confidence than she felt.
‘It’s this way, please!’
The little footpath that took them the last few yards toward the fairy-dell-like clearing they were shooting in was marked periodically with little pink signs.
Pulling her can of cola out of her pocket, Violet cracked it open and took a long drink.
She needed both sugar and caffeine, and quickly.
She didn’t turn to check that Finn was behind her; the occasional crunch of twigs was enough.
They made it to the staging area, just above where the scene was to be shot. The camera team was already there, setting up, and there were three easy-ups, one of which was the green room for the cast.
Violet held back the canopy for Finn to step in as her radio chirped in her ear.
‘Okay, copy that,’ she said, then turned to Finn, leaning into the little space as she spoke.
‘We’ve got ten minutes until they are set up for the first shot, so we should hold here for eight or nine minutes, then make our way down into the clearing.
I’ll be back for you when they are ready. ’
She turned to go.
‘Where are you going?’ Finn asked.
She stopped. ‘To wait out here.’
‘Vi, don’t be weird. It’s five minutes. You can wait here.’
She hesitated for a moment. ‘I’m not sure it’s—’
‘All you’re doing is hanging around inside the easy-up, instead of outside the easy-up,’ Finn said, as he sat down.
He inclined his head towards one of the empty camping-style chairs across from him. Violet sat down gingerly and sipped at her cola. Finn nursed his coffee.
‘You drink too much of that shit,’ Finn said, nodding towards her drink. ‘It’ll rot your guts.’
‘Bless you worrying about my guts,’ Violet said, before taking a long drink, eyeing him as she drank. ‘This,’ she tipped the can towards him, ‘is what keeps me awake. And it stops me from mauling you by keeping me on a sugar high.’
‘You know that takes twelve minutes off your life,’ Finn said. ‘Twelve minutes. Every can.’
Violet sighed. ‘Any chance it could be the next twelve minutes? I’ve got a feeling I won’t be enjoying them.’
She slurped at the can.
‘You should drink more water,’ Finn said.
‘You should mind your business.’
‘You should be nicer to me.’
‘You should do something to earn it.’
‘I could have you fired, you know,’ Finn said idly.
‘Promises promises,’ Violet said, setting her can down as the radio chirruped in her ear again.
‘Don’t be grumpy just because you’re stuck with me all day,’ Finn chided.
A smile played about his mouth.
‘They’re ready for you,’ Violet said. ‘Time to go.’
‘Sure,’ Finn said.
He stood and shrugged off his padded coat.
Violet paused, drink can halfway to her mouth, as Finn, half-drunk coffee in one hand, stretched his arms above his head and groaned.
His shirt rode up, and the loosely laced trousers inched down as he reached over his head.
His stomach was taut and lean, and a line of dark hairs disappeared down below the waistband.
Violet wished her gaze had stopped there, but it was drawn lower to the outline in his trousers, which was now roughly level with her eyeline in her seated position.
‘Violet?’
The shirt dropped back into position, covering the exposed skin and interrupting Violet’s view.
Finn, arms down by his sides, was peering at her.
‘Vi?’ he said again.
Violet blinked rapidly and tried to take a drink to buy some time, missing her mouth and pouring cola down her chin. She swabbed with her sleeve at the sticky liquid soaking into her scarf and swore under her breath.
‘Fuck…’
‘Vi,’ Finn murmured, his tone playful now. ‘Were you checking me out?’
Violet concentrated on patting up the pools of cola, her jaw clenched.
‘Vi-o-let,’ Finn sing-songed. ‘Admit it. You were.’
Violet’s cheeks were on fire. She could feel the hairs in her hairline prickle.
This was insufferable. He was insufferable.
She was certainly not paid well enough to put up with this.
She wished Finn’s outsides matched his insides, then he’d look like the sort of troll you heard about in children’s books, and she would remember how horrid he was.
‘We need to go,’ she said tightly, not making eye contact.
Hurriedly getting to her feet, her eyes everywhere but on Finn, her foot caught in the metal chair leg as she turned.
Violet stumbled and dropped her drink, lurched forwards, arms flailing, with the chair leg hooked around her ankle.
She was moving at the speed of light and in slow motion at the same time, her hands clawing at thin air.
Her arms wheeled like windmills as she tried to find something to grab onto.
She could do nothing to stop it as she face-planted into Finn’s chest. As her feet slipped out behind her on the damp ground, the chair bashed against her calf.
Her left hand grabbed at some fabric and halted her downward slide, pulling her body sharply to the left and slowing her descent.
Finn, still holding his coffee cup, grabbed for her with his free hand but only got a handful of scarf, which tightened threateningly around her neck.
As Violet’s right hand grappled for something to hold, it dragged down the front of Finn’s body, over the firm stomach she had admired just moments ago, past the waistband of his trousers, and slid right over his cock.
In shock, she instinctively let go of his lapels with her left hand and finished slithering down his body into a heap on the floor. The imprint of his cock was burned into her palm.
Violet lay there at Finn’s feet, a knot of limbs, sticky with cola, her scarf threatening to cut off her air supply, and the folding chair still hooked around one foot. She closed her eyes and prayed for a quick death.
Finn bent over her and frowned.
‘Are you okay?’
‘Just kill me,’ she whispered, screwing her face up.
‘I can’t. Not until I know you’re not injured.’
‘I’m not injured,’ she croaked. ‘Physically.’
There was a pause.
‘You grabbed my cock,’ Finn said, in a conversational tone.
Violet squeezed her eyes closed tighter.
‘I didn’t grab it,’ she hissed. ‘I accidentally brushed it when I was falling.’
‘Felt like a grab,’ Finn said.
Violet could hear the grin on his face.
From her prone position, she opened her eyes and glared at him.
‘Perhaps you need to date more,’ she said, kicking the folding chair off her foot and out of the way. ‘Perhaps then you’d know what it feels like when someone grabs you.’
Finn reached a hand down to her. Batting it away, she pushed herself up onto her knees and then upright. As she dusted herself off, Finn watched on in amusement.
‘First you check me out,’ he said, as he reached for his script and rolled it up in his customary style. ‘Then you literally throw yourself at me.’ He pulled back the awning and strolled out of the easy-up ahead of her. ‘Then you grab my cock.’
Violet followed, fumbling to put her earpiece back into her ear.
‘I have Finn,’ she said into the radio, voice still a little breathless.
‘Do you now?’ Finn said over his shoulder, grinning broadly, eyebrows raised.
Violet’s cheeks flamed again. ‘Keep walking,’ she muttered, like she was transporting a prisoner.