Sweetest Sin: Bad Boy Bundle (84 page)

Still, why did it have to be Mark? It could have been any other person in the world and I would have been cool with it. I would have congratulated Savannah and told her I'd see her around. Then I'd move on and fuck someone else. It would have been simple, but the thought of her with that creep turned my stomach. How could she let him touch her like that? It was disgusting.

Savannah tried to make conversation with me for the remainder of our time in the trailer but I couldn't even humor her. I told her that I needed complete silence if I was going to remember my lines. It was partially true.

“All right but Dane, you have to understand,” she started but I put my hand up. “Total silence.”

“I didn't want to kiss him!”

“Total silence,” I repeated, “And I don't give a shit what you do.

”
I wished that was the truth.

After the silence became too much for even me I told Savannah that I was going to set now. She got up to follow me.

“You can't come. It's a closed set,” I said. It was true, we didn't tend to film sex scenes with every crew member watching. It was usually just the people who needed to be there. However, I was Dane Reynolds. If I really wanted Savannah on set they weren't about to say no to me.

“Oh, so what should I do?” she asked. “I don't know, have a nap or something.”

I closed the trailer door behind me before she could say anything else. It was surprising to me that she didn't argue. I guess I was kind of hoping that she would. Obviously she felt bad, though she had no reason to. She was single and she was as entitled to do what she wanted as I was. I just wished she hadn't done it in front of me.

I thundered onto set in such a way that the whole crew looked at me nervously. I wasn't great at hiding when I was pissed off.

The set was a bedroom, complete with balcony and fake New York night sky. Mark was talking to a member of the camera crew but as soon as he saw me he came over.

“Hey buddy, how's it going? You ready to get started here? Chrissy's in make up, but she shouldn't be too long,” he said. He peered around me, “Where's Savannah?”

“It's a closed set.”

“Yeah but there'd be no problem having her here, you know that,” he said. It took everything I had not to punch him in his smug little face.

“She's not interested,” I said, “She'd rather stay in the trailer.” Mark smirked.

“Yeah, that's fair. She's probably feeling a little embarrassed,” he said. I took a deep breath and clenched my fists.

“Embarrassed about what, Mark?”

Mark's pale skin reddened slightly. It was sickening to think of his pale clammy hands touching her beautiful skin. He lowered his voice and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“We got kinda carried away in your trailer. Not cool, I know,” he said, “I should have asked first. You guys aren't exclusive, are you?”

In that moment I wished more than anything that I could say yes and wipe that smug smile off of his face.

“No, we're not,” I said. Mark nodded, grinning at me.

“A girl like that's too good to keep to yourself. God damn it, did you see the way her tits looked in that dress? I couldn't keep my eyes off her. I'm not gonna lie, when you came in I felt like I was gonna kill you. I was so close to hitting that,” he said. This was not what I wanted to be hearing. Mark and I weren't buddies. I could barely stand him on a good day but I certainly didn't want to hear him talk about Savannah like that.

“I wouldn't be so sure. She's pretty picky,” I said. Mark patted my shoulder.

“Yeah, those kind of chicks always are. But it's OK, I got a way in,” he said. A way in? What, did he think his money would help him get into Savannah's panties? Yeah, right. She wasn't that kind of girl. It took more than that to woo her.

“Money?” I asked, raising one eyebrow, “Cos she doesn't care about money. It won't make her like you if she doesn't already.”

Mark sniggered.

“No man, not money. This is genius. I wanted to give myself a high five just for coming up with it. She tells me she's into making clothes and whatever...” he started.

“Designing,” I interrupted.

“Yeah, isn't that what I said? Whatever. Anyways, get this. I told her that she could design for my next movie. I made some shit up about it being set in the twenties or something and she lapped it up. If you had waited a few more seconds she would have been sucking my dick!” he said, between breathless laughter. It took a moment for me to take it all in.

“So, what you're saying is that you lied to her?” I said. That shit eating grin didn't even flinch a bit. “Yeah, but alls fair in love and getting pussy, right?” he nudged me. That was it. It happened so damn quickly. It was only when I heard people screaming that I realized what I had done. I'd shoved Mark to the ground and punched him several times in the face. I had to be pulled off by security and escorted out of the place to cool off.

I glanced back and saw Mark holding onto the side of his head and moaning. I'd done the right thing.

Savannah

“We're leaving,” Dane burst into the trailer, interrupting my nap. I'd somehow managed to fall asleep on the bed, despite how worried I was. I sat up to see Dane's t-shirt stained with blood. “Jesus Christ, what happened?” I exclaimed, “Was this part of the movie?”

He shook his head and began to gather up his things. “Nope.”

“Jesus, what happened? Are you OK?” I asked.

“I'm fine. Mark may or not be dead though, so we better get moving,” he said.

“Dead?” I yelled.

“I'll explain in the car.”

Suddenly the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen in all my years on earth burst into the the trailer. It was Chrissy Jones, dressed in a seductive black silk gown, her dark hair flowing in caramel waves past her breasts. The only thing that ruined the picture were her blood stained hands.

“Chrissy, don't start shit now. We're leaving,” said Dane. Chrissy closed the trailer door and stood tall against it, her slender arms folded.

“I don't think so,” she said, “I don't know what the fuck you called that, Dane Reynolds, but I call it fucking up a movie. I don't want to have to re shoot all this stuff with another actor, but you can't beat our director to death. It's just not good.”

“To death?” I squeaked. I squeaked again when Chrissy looked at me. I wasn't a lesbian but if I had to chose a girl to go gay for, Chrissy Jones would be number one on my list.

“Don't worry honey, it's just an expression. He just lost a few teeth. He'll be fine,” her voice switched from gentle back to aggressive, “But this fucker could have killed him. What the hell was that about you stupid son of a bitch?”

“I don't have to discuss this with you. I quit. I don't give a fuck about my contract. I'm not working with that fucker on this piece of shit movie. It's not like I need the money,” he said. He turned to me, “Savannah, are you coming with me or are you gonna stay here and stare at Chrissy some more?”

I got up, feeling my skin flushing. The last thing I wanted was for her to know what an adoring fan that I was. Dane had made it clear how irritating that would come across.

“All right, we can go,” I said. Chrissy reluctantly moved aside and let Dane pass. He stormed out without giving either of us a second glance. I gave her an apologetic smile and was about to make my way out when she grabbed my wrist.

“What?” I asked. Her hand was so soft. She probably used creams that cost most than all of my cosmetics combined. Even so, her grip was firm.

“He's crazy about you,” she said, “He might not want to say it, but he is. Don't let him treat you like shit.”

“Oh,” I said, blushing even more. Had he said something? “Thank you.” She let go of my wrist.

“No problem. I love your dress, by the way,” she said. I thanked her again and ran to the limo, her words repeating in my head. He hadn't said that, of course. She was just being sweet. Dane didn't have a romantic bone in his body.

A girl could dream.

Dane

Savannah kept asking me and asking me why I'd punched Mark. The truth was, I didn't have a solid answer. He was a complete son of a bitch, but I worked with people like that all the time. Somehow I'd managed to avoid beating the shit out of any of them until this point. Mark had just pushed me too far.

I kept telling her that I felt like it, but that wasn't good enough.

“What do you mean you felt like it? That's fucking stupid, Dane. He could sue you!” I shrugged.

“So? Let him sue me.”

He'd have to sue me for quite a bit if he expected to a make a dent in my income. Fuck, even if I ended up back being a broke nobody it would be worth it. I just did not give a flying fuck anymore. Savannah pressed the button to raise the partition between us and the driver. We had some privacy now.

“Dane, I didn't want to kiss him.”

“I don't care who you kiss,” I said. I could see her gritting her teeth in frustration at me. It couldn't be helped. It was a frustrating situation.

“I didn't want to kiss him,” she repeated, “He kissed me and I couldn't get him off of me.”

“Did he tell you you could do costume design for one of his movies?” I asked. Those big green eyes widened.

“Yes,” she said softly, “How do you know?”

“I just do. Look, there's one could thing that came out of this. The tabloids are probably going to be talking about this now instead of us,” I said, “So I think you can go home now.”

“What?”

“I know you're worried about work and stuff. I can give you some money to keep you going since it's my fault you got fired, but I really think it's time to leave LA,” I said. Savannah shook her head in disbelief.

“I'm not ready yet,” she said, her voice trembling, “I'm not ready to go back to all that. The paparazzi might be gone but people will be talking and asking questions about me. I can't deal with that, not yet.”

“I think it's for the best,” I said, though my heart hurt as I forced the words out. Saying goodbye meant saying goodbye for good and we both knew it. This love thing was like an infection. I had to amputate the source before it spread any further and ruined everything between us.

“You really think that I would choose him over you?” she said, so softly that I could barely hear it. I made out what she said right away, however. Her eyes were brimming with tears.

“I don't know,” I said, “Maybe.”

She frowned and a tear spilled down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away.

“You're such a prick. You can't even see what's right in front of you,” she said. Before I could say anything else she wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me passionately. I resisted at first but I soon fell into the embrace, holding her close to me as we kissed. The softness of her body just felt so good, I couldn't let her go.

I pulled her onto my and ran my hands along the curves of her body as we kissed. More than anything, I wanted to feel her bare skin underneath my fingertips.

She pulled away and looked at me intently. The tears were gone now, but her eyes were still a little bit pink.

“Do you believe me?” she asked. I nodded. “I do.”

She took my hands and guided them underneath the soft cotton of her shirt dress. Her skin was just as soft and warm as I remembered. My hands slid up until I found her breasts. I played with them and fondled them gently, causing her to moan softly at the sensation. I loved seeing her get so turned on. To my surprise, she began to unbutton the shirt dress. She did it tantalizingly slowly, revealing herself inch by inch until I was rock hard and she was sitting naked on my lap. Her pale skin was so beautiful. I kissed down her chest and sucked on her pretty pink nipples, drawing out
another moan. She pulled my shirt off over my head and tossed it on the floor, beside her dress. “Fuck me, Dane,” she whispered. I didn't need her to ask me again. I laid her down on the soft leather seat and undid my belt, pulling out my cock. Her eyes lit up at the sight of it.

She opened her legs for me and I lined myself up against her entrance. She had me so damn hard that I just wanted to slam it into that beautiful pussy of hers, but I held on. I forced myself to be gentle and slide in gradually, paying attention to all her tiny whimpers and moans. When she made it clear that she was comfortable I leaned forward and began to move inside her. That familiar, wonderful tightness grasped my cock deliciously as I fucked her. Sex always felt good but it had never felt quite as good before I'd met her. Our bodies seemed to fit together as if they were made for each other.

“Oh god Dane,” she moaned. Her eyelashes fluttered closed and she bit her lip, “That feels so good. Keep going.”

That was all the encouragement I needed. I put her legs over my shoulders in order to penetrate her more deeply and quickened my pace. Every thrust brought me closer and closer to the point of no return. Based on Savannah's moans, she was rapidly approaching her own orgasm. I reached down and caressed her breasts. This was the final straw for her. I watched as her back arched and her hands dug into the seat. She screamed my name as she reached her climax. Seconds later I followed suit and came inside her.

We got cleaned up and I collapsed beside her, too drunk with passion to even care what it meant. I didn't object when she pulled my arm around her. I just held her as the limo continued to drive. Of course, that beautiful silence couldn't last forever.

“What now?” she asked, looking up at the ceiling. It was a good question.

Savannah

Mark didn't die and no one got sued. We waited a few days for the letter from his legal team and
when it finally arrived we read it with baited breath. Well, I did. Dane made out like he didn't care, though I'm sure he did. No matter how much money he had a lawsuit had the potential to take a good chunk out of it.

All Mark wanted was for Dane to pay for his teeth. He wanted gold ones, which I thought was pushing it a little bit but Dane reluctantly agreed. If it would get him off of his case then it would all be worth it.

For a few days the two of us didn't face reality. We barely left the house because we were fucking so much. By the time a week had passed we had fucked in every room in the house and I'd fallen asleep in his arms every night. It didn't make me feel any less confused about our relationship or lack thereof. We didn't talk about it. We didn't talk about anything real. All we did was talk about food, or movies or other banal things. It was safer that way. That way, no one got hurt. There was no more talk of me going home. We just existed for a while.

That peaceful existence couldn't last forever, of course. It was soon shattered and real life came and bit us in the ass.

Dane was showing me how to make pasta from scratch one evening when the doorbell rang. We both froze in place. The whole time we had been here together, no one but Dane's driver had called. The front gate had a pass code so anyone who got as far as the front door knew it. Either that or some crazed fan had climbed over the gate. Dane told me that it had happened before. He was the first to take action.

“Don't look so scared, it's probably just a friend,” he said, washing his hands, “I'll get it.”

I followed him out to the hallway. He didn't even bother to put a shirt on before he answered. After fooling around, getting dressed had felt like a big effort. Dane just wore his jeans and I wore his t-shirt, which was so long on me that it was almost hitting my knees. He liked the way I looked in his clothing for some odd reason. I didn't question it. Between us we had a full outfit.

He opened the door and gave a groan at the sight of the person standing there. It was an older man, maybe in his late thirties, dressed in a business suit.

“What the fuck do you want?” asked Dane, reluctantly letting him in.

“Well you haven't been answering my calls, so I figured I'd see how you were doing. Mmm, what's that smell,” he said. Then he spotted me, “Have you been cooking, little lady?”

Dane crossed his arms and smirked at me. He knew me far too well. Pet names were one of the many ways a man could get on my bad side.

“No, I haven't. Dane has and we only have enough for two. And my name's not little lady. It's Savannah,” I said. The man gave a low whistle and looked back at Dane.

“I like the ones who don't talk back,” he said. Then he grinned at me, but I knew he wasn't joking. Something about him made me massively uncomfortable. I wished that he'd just leave the two of us in peace.

“Savannah talks back all right. She'll punch too, if you get her worked up enough,” said Dane. He put his hands in his pockets and lazily strolled back to me, “This is Craig, Savannah. He's my manager. Basically the cum stain on the crusty sock that is my life.”

I sniggered. Craig laughed too but I could see that he didn't appreciate being the butt of the joke. Despite the ribbing, Dane made an extra serving of pasta for Craig and invited him to have dinner with us. I willed him to turn down the offer but the greedy bastard was delighted at the chance to eat Dane's cooking. So the three of us sat around the kitchen table eating our pasta and making small talk. It was torture. Craig kept trying to talk business but Dane insisted that we had to wait until the meal was finished. The whole time we were eating he kept his hand on my thigh, squeezing it every time Craig said something particularly ignorant or funny.

It wasn't long before every scrap of food had been demolished. There was no more procrastinating to be done. Dane had to talk shop or we'd be here all night long.

“So, what's the problem now?” asked Dane, “Is it Mark? 'Cos I swear to god if he is causing any trouble I will fucking end him. I will.”

Craig laughed nervously and looked at me.

“No, no. Don't be silly. Mark's perfectly happy with his new teeth and the swelling's gone right
down,” he said, “Say Savannah, why don't you toss these dishes into the sink like a good girl and give us guys some alone time?”

I tilted my head and narrowed my eyes at him. The only person who got to call me a good girl was Dane, and that was just during sex. Even he wouldn't get away with it under normal circumstances. “No, she can stay,” said Dane, before I could say anything, “I don't mind her hearing stuff.”

Craig sighed.

“If you say so. I need to talk to you about this whole relationship thing you've got going on here,” he gave me a withering glance.

“It's not a relationship,” I said, before Dane could say it first and break my heart. Dane looked at me, awestruck for a moment. Then he looked back at Craig and nodded.

“She's right. It's not a relationship.”

Craig looked at my Grandma's emerald ring and frowned until I let my hand slip under the table. “I don't care what it is, frankly. What I care about is what it looks like and it looks like a relationship to everyone looking in,” he said.

“We've barely left the house together,” said Dane. It was true. The only times we'd been bothered to go out was when we needed to pick up food. Even then, we only went as far as the grocery store a few blocks down. Dane hadn't even been recognized during those shopping trips. If he had, no one had commented on it.

Craig picked his briefcase up and pushed our pasta dishes away so that he could put it up on the table. He pulled out a handful of magazines and threw them down on the tables. The one on top, one of the tackiest celebrity gossip rags that I wouldn't have been caught dead spending my money on, had us on the cover. I was holding a cartoon of milk and blushing, a shy smile on my face. Dane had his arm around me and he was kissing the top of my head. If any of my friends had a candid photo like that with their boyfriends it would have been an immediate candidate for profile picture. For the two of us, it apparently spelled out disaster. The magazine had tagged it 'Loved up? Read all about the bad boy and the woman who tamed him on page 3'.

Craig showed us the pictures, the articles, the interviews with 'close sources'. As far as these magazines were concerned, Dane and I were practically married. If only they knew the truth! However, this was apparently a very negative thing.

One magazine even printed a rather unflattering picture of me bending over to pick up my phone after dropping it. The angle was so bad that it made me look like I had a stomach pooch. According to the magazine, this meant that I was definitely pregnant. Possibly with twins.

I looked up to see Dane's reaction the pictures, but his face was unreadable. He flicked through the magazines and skimmed the articles without saying a word.

“This is suicide for your image,” said Craig, “No one wants to hire a bad boy with a ring on his finger. Your appeal is your lack of attainability. It makes women want you and men aspire to be like you. No man wants to be married before he's thirty.”

I looked at Dane, willing him to defend me, to defend us. To tell Craig that he didn't give a shit about his image, that he just wanted to be with me. It was too much to ask for, of course.