9. Sienna #2
The throbbing between my thighs continues.
This is hot. Mortifying and embarrassing, but totally hot. All of a sudden, I like the idea of Eli seeing me naked so much that I’m tempted to peel back the covers and let him have a second peek.
“I was…” Eli finally says, tensing his jaw. “I wanted to check in on you and make sure you were okay.”
“Fine,” I blurt out. “I’m fine.”
His eyes lower again. “Jesus. I didn’t mean to?—”
“It’s fine.”
Eli takes another step back and disappears, leaving me more sexually frustrated than I already was.
I throw the pillow over my face and growl into it.
I leave my cabin hours later and head toward the main one.
I realized I was gonna have to come out of hiding at some point. Plus, all the food is in the main cabin.
The wind has died down, and so has my embarrassment. Like the blizzard, this won’t last forever. I’ll be back in Hollywood before I know it. This will all blow over, same as the snow when it finally decides to melt and give me my car back.
Just give it another day, and I’ll be back on my way to LA.
But as I get closer to the main cabin, I start to feel sick to my stomach. The sooner this blizzard is over, the sooner I’ll be back getting harassed by the press again. Holden this, Holden that. “What do you think of his new fiancée, Sienna?”
My head hurts just thinking about all of the cameras and cheering fans. Underneath the glitz and glamor, I’m a person, same as them, and that makes me no different from anyone else.
But they raise me on a pedestal, and I let them. Because if I tell them how I really feel and show weakness, nobody will like it, and I’ll lose everything.
I wade through the heavy snow in my Diors. I’m plowing it out of my way more than I’m walking through it, but for the first time since being stuck up here, I don’t mind the struggle.
When I look up, there’s not a single person in sight—no cameras, no media waiting for their turn to ask me their stupid questions. All I see are snow-covered mountains.
Now that the weather has settled, I can see far into the distance. Down into the valleys. Everything is white, and the snow is real, not powdery like the fake stuff they use on set.
I tip my face into the freezing air. My pores can finally breathe.
And then I look at my phone, and miraculously, I now have three full bars.
JULES: You need to call me.
My stomach twists. She doesn’t mean that with any ill intent, but I feel sick just thinking about that costume designer meeting.
More waves of nausea roll through me as I think about it all.
The meetings. The sequel I’m going to have to bring myself to film, including multiple sex scenes with Holden. The press is going to eat that shit up.
I come to a halt in the snow and do what I know I shouldn’t—open social media.
And there I am, in ultra-HD on the red carpet in a red dress, trying my hardest to keep it together as Holden gets on one knee in front of Valentina. The camera is focused on me, not Holden. Typical.
My chest contracts, and more waves of nausea ripple through me. I’m freezing cold, but I’m also burning up. Sweat trickles down my neck.
I scroll.
And there’s more.
“Visible signs of Sienna Lane aging in her new movie Hearts For You.”
“That movie sucked ass.”
“I know, right. That’s two hours of my life I’ll never get back.”
Rule number one when you’re famous is never read anything about yourself online— especially not the comment sections. But I care what people think of me, just like anyone else does.
“I don’t know what happened to her acting.”
I scroll and get hit with another photograph of myself—this one from the mountain spa retreat. I was trying to manage a quick escape, but the camera crew had other plans.
I open the comments and feel like tossing my phone into the snow as I read the first one.
“Sienna’s looking old. No wonder she needed a spa getaway.”
No shit, asshole. Of course I’m going to be “looking old” when the photo was taken in unflattering lighting, on my bad side, and zoomed right on my face.
I take a deep breath to calm my nervous system, but my head is full of noise.
“Where is she now?”
“She’s disappeared.”
What. The. Fuck? Someone has made an entire podcast about me, speculating on why I might’ve retreated to a spa for the weekend after the premiere.
“She’s still hung up on Holden, most likely.”
“It would explain why her acting isn’t what it used to be.”
“I know, it’s taken a turn for the worse over the past year.”
I shut my eyes and breathe deeply. I’m not there, I’m here, on the top of a mountain surrounded by fresh air and white snow.
I shove my phone into my jeans and focus on something that isn’t my declining beauty and talent.
At least the sky looks pretty this evening, like an oil painting filled with pastel colors.
Gradients of pink and purple stretch across the mountain tops, spilling light onto the land.
It’s like something out of a fantasy movie.
I always wanted to star in something different, like a fantasy action movie where the plot wasn’t about two people falling in love. But directors never hired me for those kinds of movies. I was better suited for romance, apparently.
I continue my walk over to the main cabin. The pastel colors reflect on the small lake, situated at the front of the cabin. The water is still iced over, but it sparkles, like someone’s shaken glitter over the surface.
I decide to circle around the cabin, checking out the surroundings. Icicles hang from the eaves like daggers, making me feel uneasy. I’m sure Knox would love to put one of those through my chest. Best not ask him again about what he does for a living. He might actually tell me.
Smoke plumes from the chimney, and I can hear low voices from inside, none of which I can understand. I do hear a voice that sounds like it belongs to a child, but I must be mistaken—the birds out here are chirping like crazy.
I run my hand over the sturdy rock wall, making my way around the perimeter of the house. I soak up the smells of fresh pine and burning wood from the chimney, and feel the noise disappear from my head. Maybe being out here isn’t so bad…
And then I turn a corner and see several axes propped up against a wall.
I jump back. It can’t be legal to own so many axes. It probably isn’t—which is why they live all the way out here. These guys definitely live life on their own terms.
I look closely at the different blades, my heart in my throat.
I look over at the tree nearby with lots of axe marks and gasp, choking on the cold air. Apparently, they hit the bullseye every time.
Snow crunches under my feet as I make my way over to the tree, running my fingers over the indentations. They’re deeper than they look. My breath catches. These guys really could kill me if they wanted to.
I move away from the tree and head back toward my own cabin.
And that’s when I hear moaning.
I creep toward the sound, finding myself outside one of the bedrooms.
I look inside the window and see Eli.
He’s stroking himself.
Jesus mighty.
Gravity pulls my jaw to the ground, and I don’t fight it. His dick is so big that it could cast a shadow.
I slap a hand over my mouth in case I accidentally gasp and get caught watching him. He’ll stop, and I don’t want him to stop until he’s coming in his hands.
His jaw is strained, eyes snapped shut.
It’s no coincidence that he saw me earlier and now he’s doing this.
I zero in on his giant hands. I’m guessing they can do a lot more than cook.
The tip of his dick surfaces between his hands, all magenta and swollen and hard.
He releases a choked groan, seconds away from finishing. I’m counting on that climax just as much as he is.
The ache returns to my center, my clit swelling with the thought of him pushing into me.
Holden’s cock is nothing compared to this.
I salivate, feeling myself dribble. I’m too star-struck to wipe away the saliva, to do anything but stand and stare and wish it were me he was coming into, instead of his hands.
He groans as he comes, every muscle on his face contracting. I duck down as soon as he opens his eyes.
And begin to fall over.
Fuck, I forgot I was wearing stilettos.
I lose my balance and faceplant in the snow. But it feels nice. Cooling. I was working up quite a sweat just from watching Eli.
I army crawl through the snow until I’m far enough away from the window to stand again. I brush myself off and look back at the sky. The pinks and purples are darker now as the sun dips between the mountains.
I snap back to reality when the sun completely disappears.
What the fuck am I doing? I can’t be here.
The men are attractive, and the isolation is nice, but these factors are what’s gonna kill me.
And I don’t want to die. Not yet. Not before I prove myself to Grammy up in heaven and make her proud.
I can’t die being a disappointment to her.
My mind wanders back to Eli. What else does he do with those hands, besides cook and massage his dick? I absolutely want to find out, but I know it’s not a good idea.
My pulse spikes for a more than one reason. I trudge back to my own cabin, reeling from seeing Eli. I need him inside of me. I need all of them. I want all three of them in my bedroom, stripping me naked, each taking turns.
My inability to control myself around them is why I need to get the fuck out of here. Now. Before they kill me or whatever else they’re planning to do.
I hurry the rest of the way to the cabin and start throwing stuff into my bag.
There’s a good chance I’ll have to get down this mountain on foot if the Bentley is still stuck. But I don’t care. I need to get out of here before I end up like that deer on my plate.