9. Sienna
Sienna
Iwas counting on the snow being gone this morning, but it’s coming down even harder than it was yesterday.
Pilates was a complete waste of my time, although I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t intrigued by Cash.
He’s certainly wound tight. When I told Eli about my dietary requirements last night, Cash stormed out. Talk about childish behavior. He was clearly finding it hard to even be in the same room with me.
I’m sure he was finding it extra hard this morning when he walked in on me doing Pilates…
I enjoyed having him there, staring at my ass. I was kind of wondering if he’d come over and give it a spank.
What is going on with me? I’ve never even thought about a man spanking my ass before…
After staring out the window for a long time trying to decipher who’s awake at the main cabin, I decide I need to do something more productive, like making coffee. Of course, it’s not a simple case of plugging in an appliance and pressing a button.
I grab the kettle, fill it with tap water that better be as pure as Eli claims it is, and turn on the stove…
Except the damn thing won’t start. I press the dial in, waiting for the flame to appear. Nothing. Pushing on it harder doesn’t work either.
I rummage through the worn wooden drawers until I find a box of matches. I wouldn't know how to do this manually if it wasn’t for all the times the power went out on Grammy and me back in Michigan.
I strike the match and hover it over the stove, watching the blue ring appear.
I’m still thinking about Cash’s bad attitude. He clearly doesn't know the first thing about fame. If he did, he’d know why celebrities have to protect themselves from people like him who have nothing nice to say.
I set the kettle on the stove and search for a coffee mug. Wind whistles outside and the walls of the cabin keep creaking. They sound like they just might collapse. I could totally be in a life-threatening situation right now, yet my heart beats steadily and I’m completely unfazed.
I’ve pretended to die a couple of times as an actress over the years.
Strangely enough, I freaked out more in those made-up scenarios than I am right now.
It’s probably because I don’t have a director analyzing my every move.
Dying on command is stressful when everyone on set is counting on you to get it right.
Hollywood directors are incredibly hard to please, unless, of course, you take your clothes off.
The kettle whistles, reaching the boiling point.
The coffee is instant, and that definitely isn’t my first choice, but I don’t seem to have any other options.
I sit on the couch that’s seen better days and face the window, taking a sip of the coffee.
I get hit with another wave of nostalgia.
“Here,” says Grammy, handing me a steaming cup of coffee. “We ran out of tea last night, but this should keep you nice and warm. Be careful not to spill it. It’s really hot.”
I take the mug of coffee from her hands and blow on it before taking a sip. “I don’t understand. Everybody else at school had electricity today.”
“I know, dear,” says Grammy. “But we live right on the edge of town where the power lines aren’t as strong. Everything will be back to normal soon. Drink up. You might feel better after you get some coffee in your system. Stay here, baby. I’ll fetch you a blanket.”
I stare through the window, watching snow clouds roll through the sky. It’s quite peaceful until I feel something crawl into my lap.
A spider.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I scream, coffee spilling everywhere as I run around the room in circles, trying to flick the thing off my thigh.
I feel like crying. These are the only pajama pants I brought with me, and now they’re stained brown. Same as this ugly carpet.
I soak my pants in the kitchen sink and jump in the shower, which, of course, only runs hot for two minutes before turning to ice.
I grab the towel Eli left and wrap myself up in it. My Ugg robe would be so nice right now. So would some heat. I’ve got the thermostat turned up to 75, but there’s no way it’s even close to that right now in here.
My only option is to crawl back into bed for the remainder of the day and catch up on sleep. That’s why I came to the mountains in the first place, and now I’m finally alone with nothing to do.
I check the time on my phone and freak out when I see that it’s almost 9:30 AM. The meeting with the costume designer was supposed to start thirty minutes ago. The guy will be pissed.
I navigate to the Wi-Fi settings on my phone. I stand up, stick my phone in the air, and manage to acquire one signal bar—enough to fill Jules in on the latest.
Me: I’m stuck at the top of a mountain waiting out the storm. Be in touch soon.
She’ll know I got harassed at the retreat if she’s checked her social media since yesterday. As an agent, Jules rarely misses a thing.
I lie back down and throw my head back onto the pillow, but it sinks straight through to the mattress. Zero support, and the mattress isn’t much better. I feel like I’m lying on a piece of cardboard.
Still, it’s much better than being stranded in the mountain resort, surrounded by the press—though if I’d stayed down there, I probably wouldn’t be in this emergency weather situation.
I try to check social media, but the Wi-Fi connection is too weak for anything to refresh.
Dropping the phone, I let out a long sigh.
The second I shut my eyes, I see the men lined up in front of me again.
Eli is something to marvel at. Those big brown eyes alone will make any woman fall to her knees.
And don’t even get me started on his cooking.
I wouldn’t say no if he ever wanted to run his hands over me like he was doing to the bread last night.
Based on first impressions, Knox is a lot more aggressive than Eli. If looks could kill, I wouldn’t be alive and fantasizing about all of them right now.
Clearly, Knox doesn’t want to speak about his past, and I’m pretty sure I know why.
It’s not hard to figure out that he killed someone.
He’s probably living up here because it’s the only place he won’t get caught.
I’m guessing those huge hands could do some real damage.
One blow to the head would be more than enough to knock you out for good.
Adrenaline courses through me when I remember how close our faces were last night. I can already tell he’s super unpredictable, keeping me on edge, trying to figure out what he’s going to do next.
At this point, I’d take unpredictability over whatever Hollywood has to offer, and that includes Holden fucking Gray and his smug smile.
Compared to these three guys, Holden is boring and far too predictable. My heart still twangs that all-too-familiar way when I think about him too much, so I shove him out of my head and think about Cash instead.
I’m still figuring Cash out, but he was definitely pissed to find me on all fours this morning in his living room.
He was also pissed about my dietary requirements, like it’s my fault I can’t eat gluten.
I don’t appreciate his tone, but I do appreciate his face.
His eyes are a startling shade of green.
I felt them on my ass this morning, prickling the skin there as he stared.
If he were so pissed about me being there, he’d have told me to get out immediately instead of silently watching me do my leg raises.
I press my thighs together. I have too much time on my hands, and all I can think about is them. Fuck.
I slip my hand under my panties and close my eyes, releasing a heavy exhale. I blame the massage therapist at the mountain retreat for getting me all riled up, which explains why I’m carrying all of this sexual tension around now.
I find my clit and circle the nub. Since there’s nothing else to do around here, I let my imagination run wild.
I have all three of them in my bed. They’re shirtless and wearing work pants, just how Cash looked yesterday morning.
Hair in disarray, tangled from the wind.
I can’t decide who I want to touch first…
They all sit on the edge of my bed, and the mattress dips, barely taking their weight because the three of them together weigh a ton.
Knox gives me a lethal glare.
Eli begins sliding his tongue up the length of my torso.
Cash is kissing my clit while he palms his cock.
God, if their dicks are as big as the rest of their giant bodies, I’m in big trouble.
My eyes flicker shut again as I imagine how it would feel.
Cash enters me.
I’m stretched in the most wonderful way.
It takes a few moments to adjust, but once I do, I’m in for a ride.
I slide my finger inside of my soaking wet entrance and pretend he’s fucking me. He’s not holding back, and neither is my finger right now, pumping with an aggressive rhythm. I curl it and imagine them taking turns, each hitting different spots. Three men. Three orgasms. Three times the fun.
My moans build as I edge closer to a climax.
I lift up my shirt and palm one of my breasts, pretending it’s Eli’s hand. He’s squeezing and flicking my nipple. It’s so hard between his fingers. Between his lips, as he starts to suck and pull.
“Holy…”
I add another finger inside of myself and use a third to stimulate my clit.
I’m seconds away from exploding when the door flies open.
And Eli is standing in the doorway with his jaw on the floor. His eyes are wide with shock.
Mortified doesn’t even begin to describe how I feel.
“Oh my fucking god!” I panic, pulling the sheets over my body.
But the damage has already been done.
Eli’s already seen me naked, fingering myself.
I stare at him in horror, feeling my cheeks flush the brightest shade of red. My clit is still throbbing from the orgasm I was moments away from having, and my breathing is labored, now for two different reasons, as I hyperventilate over what has got to be the most embarrassing moment of my life.
He knows what I look like naked now.
Shit.
But then I remind myself it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t know who I am. He doesn’t know anything about me.