Sweetest Sin: Bad Boy Bundle (78 page)

Then why did Savannah fascinate me so much? I already knew all that there was to know about her. She liked my fingers in her pussy and her tits in my mouth. Lots of girls liked that. She didn't seem like the freaky type. Yet I found myself glancing at her as I drove and wondering what was going through that blonde head of hers. She was like no girl I'd ever been with before.

Most women in Hollywood weren't as stupid as they were known to be. Some of the most shrewd people I'd ever met were wannabe reality stars. They knew to keep themselves in shape and dress to accentuate that shape. They knew that they should always be agreeable, pleasant and laugh at men's jokes. The last thing most Hollywood men wanted was a challenge, especially if it came in the form of a six foot blonde with tits to die for. No, these girls knew what they were doing. They played dumb and twirled their extensions around their fingers as the casting agents fell at their feet. Most of the chicks I'd banged had been like this and to be honest, it drove me crazy. The sex was great most of the time but not being able to have a conversation made for a boring time outside of the bedroom. They were giving me what they thought I wanted. Savannah didn't give a shit what I wanted. She was rude, spiteful and not afraid to put me in my place. It really was intriguing.

I saw her eyes widened as my house appeared in the distance. I owned an old vineyard about thirty minutes away from town, on a cliff out of sight from most of humanity. It worked well as a retreat when I was sick of Hollywood. I thought of it as a humble abode but seeing it through Savannah's eyes made it seem rather grand. It had wrought iron gates, marble pillars, the works. Even a girl like Savannah couldn't hide how impressed she was.

“It's nice, isn't it?” I said, as we pulled up to the gates. It made me feel good that she liked it. Her opinion mattered to me for some godforsaken reason. Savannah wiped the look of surprise off of
her face and shrugged.

“It's fine, if you like that flashy look.”

“You do. Your panties got wet just looking at the gates, didn't they? Have you ever fucked a guy with his own gates?” I teased. She rolled her eyes at me and refused to answer. I wasn't sure if she enjoyed my banter or not. I liked to maintain that she enjoyed being teased, but it was so hard to tell. It was the only way I could think to communicate so it wasn't like I had much of a choice, “Sorry, too far? I'm sure you've fucked plenty of guys with gates. Sorry for saying that,” I leaned out the window and typed in the key code. The gates opened slowly, creaking as if they were from a Gothic novel. Savannah liked reading. She probably went for that kind of thing.

We pulled up and I parked the car in my garage. If the four flashy cars I had laying around were as impressive as the house's exterior, Savannah didn't show it. She was taking care to control her facial expressions now. As soon as I turned the engine off she turned to me.

“You have a guest bedroom, right?” she said. I raised my eyebrows.

“Yeah, I have four and I've only fucked in three of them so you're in luck!” I said and she sighed. My jokes weren't funny but I'd be damned if I wasn't going to try. Savannah's smile was so beautiful but I saw it so rarely. I would obviously have to try harder.

“If you're going to be creepy about it I'll just call one of my friends,” she snapped. I didn't want that. Normally I loved being alone but tonight was different. Tonight I wanted company and Savannah's was the only company that would do.

“Don't do that,” I said, a little too quickly,” I'll be good, I promise.”

“All right, but you put one foot out of line and I'm out of here!” she said.

When we got into the house Savannah insisted on being shown her bedroom.

“I'm not here to hang out with you,” she said. I didn't argue. There was no arguing with that crazy chick. Not if I wanted her to stick around.

“All right, all right! Cross my heart, I won't be a dick. Come on, I'll show you the guest room,”

I
said. In an out of character move of respect I lead Savannah to the furthest room from my own bedroom. It was the best room too. The real estate lady had called it the 'spring suite'. It had bright blue walls, a large window with white lace curtains and a large windowsill perfect for sitting on and watching the day go by. There was a four poster bed straight out of historical novel patterned with florals and soft, designer patchwork pillows. Savannah took it all in and had a glance at the en suite. The room alone was nice than her apartment would ever be.

“This will do fine,” she said, without so much as smiling, “Thank you Dane. I'll see you in the morning.”

She looked at me expectantly. What was I, a fucking bellhop? I wasn't about to disappear just like that. I folded my arms.

“It's not even seven o' clock yet. You're not seriously going to bed?” I said. Savannah nodded. “I've had a tiring day.”

“You haven't even eaten yet,” I said, quietly adding, “I was gonna rustle up something.”

Savannah actually laughed out loud at that one. She had to hold onto her sides, she was laughing so hard. I failed to see the joke.

“What's so funny?” I asked, as she continued to guffaw.

“You? Cooking? I don't think so buddy!” she said, “The movie star wants to 'rustle up something' for me, what a fucking joke!”

Ah. So she thought I was a spoiled diva type who only ate steamed chicken prepared by his personal chef. Well, sometimes that was what I ate but it was under much duress. Staying in shape came naturally to me but when I had to look extra ripped for a role Craig called in the professionals. In my personal life I liked preparing my own food. I hadn't cooked for a girl before and I was starting to feel sorry for offering.

“I can cook,” I said, “I wasn't always wealthy.”

Savannah just kept laughing. It was pissing me off now. I didn't need to take this bullshit. You didn't
grow up like I did with absentee parents without learning how to cook for yourself. “Fine,” I said, “If you want anything I'll be downstairs.”

I turned and walked out of the room without another word. Savannah's laughter stopped. I was already regretting inviting her over.

That's what I got for talking to a girl after I fucked her. Nothing but trouble. At least she would be gone in the morning.

Savannah

It seemed so silly to me that a guy as macho as Dane would get so offended from me laughing at him. I had said so many bitchy things since first meeting him it seemed ridiculous that the cooking comment would get to him so much. When he stormed out of the room I actually felt bad.

It wasn't that I thought that men couldn't cook. Of course not. It was the twenty first century and some of the best chefs in the world were guys. Dane just didn't strike me as the type to slave over a hot stove. I'd assumed that he had servants to do that kind of menial work for him. I certainly would have them if I was famous like he was.

I was tempted to follow him downstairs but I stopped myself. It was his fault for taking my joke so seriously. Maybe if he was so sensitive about his skills in the kitchen then he knew he wasn't very good. He had said so many horrible, offensive things to me in the past and I had never received any sort of apology. If he wanted to be mad at me then that was his preoperative. It wouldn't be long before I was out of here and never had to see him again anyway.

The guest room really was beautiful. I lay down on the bed and felt like a heroine from one of my favorite historical novels. The light of the setting sun streamed through the window, lighting up the room with its soft amber glow. All I needed was a prince charming like the men in my books. I already knew that was the one role that Dane couldn't play.

I closed my eyes and let myself rest for a moment. The whole day had been so hectic that I felt like I'd done a triathlon or something. It was hours before my usual bedtime, but I couldn't help myself. I
fell asleep.

I dreamed of Dane. Not the Dane I knew, but the Dane in all the romantic comedies. Instead of insulting me constantly he pushed my hair away from my face and called me beautiful. He held me at night. He didn't want to fuck me and leave me. He just wanted to be with me.

“I love you,” he whispered. My eyes snapped open and I was back to reality. For one beautiful moment the dream was still real to me and I felt myself glowing from the inside out. Then I sat up and saw where I was, though it was dark now. I remembered that the Dane of my dreams wasn't real. He was just a character made to sell movie tickets and I had fallen for him. I hated myself for being so stupid. Dane would never be like that with me. He would never be like that with anyone. He'd never loved a woman in his life so far and he probably never would. If he ever did it certainly wouldn't be me. It would be some blonde with impossible proportions and a face like a Barbie doll who would take him for everything he had if they didn't sign a prenup first. I'd be a fool to convince myself otherwise.

Besides, I didn't want Dane. I mean sure, he was gorgeous and great in the sack but that was it. Our only connection was a sexual one and it would never grow behind that. Neither of us could afford to kid ourselves that we were anything more. Maybe he would find his dream blonde and marry her, maybe he wouldn't. His whole life was ahead of him and had endless glamorous possibilities. As for me? I'd probably meet a guy through work. He'd be older. Most young men didn't get their clothes tailored. He wouldn't be hideous but he wouldn't be handsome either. He'd take a liking to me, the two of us would get married and I could give up my dreams of designing anything that mattered. He'd have some money to take care of me and that would make me stay when things got bad. I'd probably murder him before our tenth wedding anniversary if I was lucky. That was just the way that things were going to be.

A gorgeous smell wafted through the bedroom door and caught me in the middle of my ridiculous train of though. It was aromatic and spicy, too exotic for me to recognize right off the bat. My stomach grumbled and I realized how little I had eaten today. I would feel like such an idiot going
downstairs to Dane after our little argument, but I was so damn hungry that I knew I couldn't hold out for long. He hadn't actually made something tasty, had he? I figured he'd maybe ordered a nice Indian takeout for himself. I just hoped that he was willing to share with the bitch who'd laughed so hard at him.

I got out of bed and padded my way downstairs as carefully as I could because the lights were out. The only light on in the house was coming from an open door downstairs. I could hear the sounds of the television. It had never occurred to me that movie stars would relax in the same ways that I did. It was oddly comforting.

I peeped my head in the door and saw Dane. He was sitting on the black leather couch and eating what looked to be a delicious curry with noodles from a bowl. There was a bottle of beer on the coffee table and a crass cartoon playing on the TV. He looked up at me in surprise, as if he'd forgotten I was here.

“Oh, Savannah. Hi. You OK?” he asked. I stayed standing by the door, my eyes fixed on his food. “What's that?” I asked, biting my lip. Dane glanced at the bowl.

“It's Pad Thai.”

“Did you order it from somewhere?” I asked. My stomach gave a low moan and I felt myself turning pink with embarrassment, but Dane ignored it.

“No, they don't do it right in most places. I got the recipe from the director's assistant from my last movie,” he took another mouthful of noodles and swallowed before adding, “It's all right. You don't have to eat it. I can order you some food if you're hungry.”

“No,” I said, a little too quickly. Dane looked surprised, “There's really no need. I can have what you're having. If there's any left, of course.”

Dane looked taken aback. I was sure he was going to tell me to fuck off after I had laughed at him so much before. Then a smile danced at the corner of his lips. It quickly turned into a full on beaming grin.

“Yeah sure, there's a shitload left. I eat like a horse but I made too much for even me,” he slurped
the last of his food, “Doesn't mean I won't have seconds though. Give me a sec, I'll grab you a bowl.”

He got to his feet and looked at me.

“You know you don't have to stay standing there, right? You can sit down. The couch is comfy and I won't make a move on you,” he said. I was still blushing.

“OK. Thank you Dane,” I said. He laughed.

“That sounds so weird coming from you.”

“Just get me some food before the good mood wears off, OK?” I teased. Dane nodded and retreated to the kitchen. I debated whether I should sit down next to where he had been or take the armchair to the side. For some reason I was drawn to the couch, though I knew I couldn't let anything happen between us again. That was finished.

Dane returned with two steaming bowls of Pad Thai and a bottle of beer for me. I hadn't drunk beer since high school but I accepted it eagerly. It seemed like a great companion to a warm meal.

He watched eagerly as I took my first bite. Before it even hit my taste buds I vowed to tell him that it was wonderful it seemed to matter to him a lot that it was. However, as soon as I tasted it I realized that there would be no faking enthusiasm here. It was the single most delicious morsel I had ever consumed in my life.