To Love Jason Thorn (4 page)

My emotions waging a war inside me, I clung
to my dad and watched Jason get into the black Mercedes. The image of him
turning to look at us with a dimpled smile before he got into the car would be
burned into my mind as a sad memory for years to come.

Then like every other fleeting moment in
life, my first love slowly faded into time.

Eight years later…

Pushing the private back door of the nightclub
open with my shoulder, I dragged the giggling mess out with me. Since she was
busy pawing at me with those claw-like fingers, she tripped over her own feet,
righting herself at the last moment, her giggling getting even louder. Gripping
her waist to make sure she didn’t face plant in those spiky-heeled shoes, I
checked the alley to make sure we were alone. As soon as the door closed and the
heavy bass of the music drifted away to a buzz, I took Jenna’s hand off my dick
and slammed her back against the concrete wall, eating up her moan in a hungry
kiss.

Wait, is her name Gemma?

“Take me home, Jason,” she said, her words
slightly slurring. She wasn’t drunk—if she were, I wouldn’t do this with her—but
for some reason she chose to act like she was. I didn’t care for her games. “Take
me home and I’ll show you a few new tricks.”

More giggling.

Jamie maybe?

Fuck!

“This is better, babe. Don’t you feel the
thrill?” I asked in a low voice as my lips ghosted over her skin against her
throat. “Anyone can walk out on us. Doesn’t that excite you?”

What the hell is her name again?
She hadn’t had a big role in the movie, but we’d shared the same
set for about a month. She twirled and skipped around me whenever she found me
alone in a corner, watching the crew work. She whispered dirty, dirty things in
my ear—at least dirty for a girl her age—when no one was around. At last, after
countless ‘fuck me eyes’ had been thrown my way at the wrap party that night, little
brunette beauty Jessie (
???
) was about to get the fuck of her life
against a concrete wall in the back alley of a club. Looking at her flushed
skin and already dazed eyes, I could see that it wasn’t bothering her in the
slightest that she was about to get fucked like a cheap hooker, out in the open.

That was all she would be for me, and most likely
for the others that would come after me—producers, agents, etc.

“Aww, you can’t wait to slide your dick into
my pussy, can you? I can’t wait either. I knew you were crazy about me Jason,”
she whispered into my ear right before she licked it, trying to kill my ear
with the stabbing motions of her tongue.

Christ!

I pushed her face away.

Her high-pitched voice buzzed around in my
head, making me too aware of the alcohol I had consumed.

Ignoring her words, I lifted Jenna’s skintight
silver dress up and over her hips, making sure to caress her toned thighs as
she moaned against my neck, her heart racing.

She kept mumbling in between sloppy kisses,
but I tuned her out and let myself get lost in her body.

At that point, I wasn’t feeling much, just
some sort of house music pounding in my head making it too hard to think
clearly. My dick was definitely feeling something as it strained against my
jeans, dying to get into her tight pussy.

“You knew you were gonna get fucked
tonight, didn’t you…babe?”

Damn it!
I
still couldn’t remember her name.

“Yes. Yes. I knew you couldn’t stay away.” She
gasped as my fingers found their way to her…butterfly? What the hell? Normally
I wouldn’t care, but, well, sue me, I was a curious bastard.

I took a step back from her octopus arms
and looked down to find a sparkling butterfly holding two flimsy straps around
it wings. Her pussy was open for all to see in her crotchless panties—if you
could even call them panties, that is.

“Huh,” I muttered. “I guess that makes my
job easier.”

My dick was still roaring to get into
action so I shrugged her hands off my shoulders and took out a condom from my
back pocket, pulling it on pretty quickly considering my buzzed state.

Lifting her thigh as high as it would wrap
around me, I entered her in a quick deep thrust as she gasped in delight.

“Jesus, you filled me,” she said in
surprise.

“You like that, babe? Is that what you’ve
been after for so long? Getting filled up properly?” Another thrust and her
eyes fluttered close.

“Yeah, it’s better than what I’ve heard.”
Her voice was all dreamy, which made me hesitant to keep fucking her. I didn’t
do dreamy. A one-time quick fuck that would get us both off was more my kinda thing.
Dreamy led to complicated stuff, and even though I liked to believe that as an
actor I could sell a good dream, or hell, even
be
a good dream, I wasn’t
fucked up enough to think that I would find my own happy ending with my career
choice. Not everyone would tolerate the lifestyle I led.

Don’t get me wrong, I loved my job. It was
the only thing that made any sort of sense in my life. However, everything
else? The constant isolation forced on you, the paparazzi hounding you,
everyone dissecting your every little move… After a while it felt like there was
a noose around your throat that was being tightened by everyone in your life.

Yes. That’s exactly how I felt.

Indifferent. Tired.

The only time it seemed like I was
breathing again was when I was on a movie set, pretending to be someone else.

In a way, my life was a play.

“Oh my god, Jason. Yes. Yes, I knew it
would be like this with you.” She moaned as her words slurred. I picked up my
pace. This was the only time she’d be getting fucked senseless by me; I
should’ve been focused on her.

“Keep it quiet,” I hissed in her ear as her
cries started to get higher. “You don’t want to get caught getting fucked in
the street, do you?”

“I do. I do. Yes! Yes!”

I dropped my head to her shoulder and raced
for the finish line. The quicker this was over, the quicker I could get back to
my house.

Grabbing her ass, I wrapped both of her
skinny legs around my waist and kept drilling into her. Her sharp cries echoed
in the dark alley, blending with the music that was coming through the walls of
the nightclub her back was against.

“Oh, fuck me, Jason,” she screeched in my
ear.

“That’s what I’m trying to do,” I said through
gritted teeth. With all her shrieking, I was already sobering up.

I closed my eyes and tried to focus on the
task at hand. When she suddenly tipped over the edge to fucking dreamland, I
swore and came after her as she kept squeezing my dick rhythmically.

Tipping my head back, I felt every muscle
in my body relax and experienced the bliss I appreciated so much, even if it
was only for a few seconds.

That’s exactly when I heard the running
footsteps coming from behind us. Looking over my shoulder, I saw the first of
many blinding flashlights.

“Fuck,” I swore, my hands quickly getting
rid of the condom before they could get to us.

Jenna slumped back on the wall and sighed,
an even more doped up smile beginning to form on her lips as she started to fix
her hair.

Zipping up my fly, I pulled down her skirt
for her as she was too busy already beaming up to our intruders over my
shoulder.

Shit!
They
were almost on us. Thankfully, my body was big enough to hide her from their
cameras so I doubted they had gotten any shots of what we’d been doing just
seconds before. At best, they would think I’d taken her out for a quick make
out session.

“Jason! Jason! Is this a new relationship?”
the one with the mustache yelled.

Click. Click. Click
.

“Did your love start on set? Are the rumors
true?”

“When are you goin’ public with this?”

Click. Click.

“Did you start a relationship to promote
your new movie?”

“Jason! Talk to us man! What were you guys
doing back here?”

A few of them snickered.

Click. Click. Click.

What’s-her-name threw her arms around my
neck and beamed at the cameras. “How did you find us back here? This was
supposed to be secret. We were being clever.”

My face a mask of calm, I gently shrugged off
her arms yet again and opened the private back door to push her back into the
club.

Her eyes were as big as saucers and she couldn’t
do anything but gape at me as I closed the door on her face and turned to face
the paps still shouting questions at me. Thankfully, there were only seven or
eight of them.

“Jason! There is a clip of you with Zoey
where it looks like you are getting busy in your car. Now you are with
Jennifer, any comments?”

Ah!
So that
was her name.

“Have a nice evening, guys,” I said in a bored
tone, ignoring their questions. I put my hands in my pockets and they parted
for me to pass, their voices getting higher and higher in my head. I didn’t
specifically hear what they were saying, but I knew I would be getting a phone
call first thing the next morning from my agent, Tom Symond, who had become a good
friend over the years, and of course my publicist, Megan.

A few minutes later, I was in my car racing
back to Bel Air, still as edgy and empty as I’d been at the beginning of the
night.

“Can you please remind me why you couldn’t
come with me again?” I whispered to Lucy on the phone as I pressed my forehead
to the wall in the corner of the white waiting room where I sat, waiting to be
called in.

“Babe, calm down. If it wasn’t the little
bitch’s class, you know I’d be there holding your hand every step of the way.
The woman already has it out for me; I can’t give her more ammo. By the time
you get home, I’ll have the tequila shots ready to celebrate. Focus on that.
It’ll help.”

I closed my eyes. I was seconds away from
throwing up. To calm down and focus on something else, I started to pace up and
down in my little corner.
Happy thoughts,
I encouraged myself.

Happy, happy thoughts.

There was a blonde girl sitting on the U-shaped
white couch. She’d been busy texting away and then taking useless selfies for
the last ten minutes. She was all dolled up and had a so very obviously fake
tan that was already going splotchy on her. She hadn’t let that thing—that
phone that had mickey ears on it—down even for a second ever since she’d
stepped in through the doors.

I mean, for god’s sake, how many freaking
pictures can you take while sitting in the exact same spot, smiling the same
fake smile? I’d stopped counting after thirty.

Looking at her making another pouty face as
she squeezed her breasts together with her arms, I groaned.

“I think I’m gonna throw up,” I whispered
into my phone.

“Oh shut up. Pull up your big girl panties
and bra and wow them with your pretty little smile.”

“Since you are doing such a crappy job with
the best friend gig, at least remind me why Char couldn’t come with me?”

Lucy let out a long breath. “Charlotte
would be trembling right beside you if you took her with you. That’s why we
didn’t tell her where you were going, remember?”

I did. She was right; if Charlotte were there,
they would remember us as the shaking duo—not the best first impression you’d
want to make with anyone, let alone the studio people who were interested in
adapting your book into a fucking movie.

“I hate you.”

“I love you too, my anxious babe.”

“Lucy,” I started again in a miserable
tone. “The meeting was at 2:30, it’s almost 3. Maybe I should leave? Maybe they
made a mistake scheduling this. I mean, who am I kidding, right? Clearly, this
isn’t happening. I don’t want to wait around to see someone jump out and
scream, ‘Jokes on you, sucka!’ I just wanna come home. Can I come home, please?”

“No, you can’t come home. I forbid you to
come home before you take that meeting and come back with good news and lotsa
money. Now, close your eyes.”

“Why?”

“Do it, Olive.”

“Fine. My eyes are closed shut. You can
come and pry them open if you want to win the best friend of the year award.”

“I already own the shit out of that award,
babe, so that’s a useless threat. Are your eyes closed?”

“Yes,” I huffed.

“Ok. Now, imagine you are a river.”

“Ahhh,” I groaned.
Not this crap again.
“What are you doing?”

“Calming you the hell down.”

“By telling me I’m a river?”

“Yes. Now, shut up and imagine that you’re
a river. You are flowing; no one and nothing can stop you. You feel the
sunlight on your…whatever and it makes you happy. You are a twinkle of laughter
in the air. Then, you turn into a small waterfall, no, you turn into a majestic
waterfall and then yo—”

“Ok, ok, Lucy.” I cut her short before she
could sputter more bullshit. “I’m calm. You calmed me down. I’m a cold river
that hears twinkles of laughter in the air and then turns into a majestic
waterfall thing.”

“Great, good for you. Now, I saw Jameson’s hot
ass walk by me so I gotta go and take a bite out of that.” I tried to cut in,
but she shushed me. “Make me proud and I’ll meet you at the house. Byeeeeee!”

I opened my mouth, but she had already hung
up on me. I lowered my phone and smiled to myself. She hadn’t come anywhere
near calming me down, but she always had a way of making me smile.

I looked around the black and white office.
Everything looked so expensive: the art on the walls, the furniture, the carpet,
even the damn windows looked all expensive and shiny. Feeling naked, nervous,
scared, excited—did I mention naked?—I took a step forward to go sit down next
to the clicker happy chick, but when I saw her take a selfie stick out of her
bag, I decided against it.

Pacing it was.

My gaze landed on the women that sat behind
the huge, crescent-shaped reception desk. They all looked like models, not
secretaries. Not a single hair on their head was out of place while mine was a
crazy wavy mess. I glanced down at my clothes… Well, obviously I didn’t fit in
with their pencil skirt, blouse, and high-heeled office attire, but I looked
good. Just a few hours before, Lucy had forced me to wear a black bandeau skirt
with a simple white shirt and a thin leather jacket. Of course, she had tried
to force me to wear high heels, but I had gotten away with wearing my lucky
combat boots. I liked to think I looked chic and relaxed in a fashionable sort
of way. However, it wasn’t helping me not feel out of place at all.

I focused on the brunette that had told me
that I needed to wait a few minutes because the execs were running late. That
few minutes had turned into forty minutes exactly one minute ago.

Please, don’t judge me. Normally I’m cool
with waiting. Hell, any other time, I would’ve loved to sit down next to the
photo chick and take pictures of her taking pictures of herself and have a
laugh about it with Lucy and Charlotte when I got back home. But, minutes had a
really slow way of moving when you were about to lose your cool and throw up in
front of a handful of strangers. I couldn’t be held responsible for all the
daggers I was throwing at the model-secretaries.

Hell, shame on them. What kind of cruel
people were they that they were playing with my emotions like this? As far as I
was concerned, they deserved all the imaginary sharp little daggers.

Finally the brunette met my eyes, held her
finger to her ear to listen to whoever was talking on the other the end of her
bluetooth thingy, then nodded once.

“Miss Taylor,” she called to me.

I closed my eyes, took a deep, shaky breath,
and walked over to her.

She was already up from her seat and
walking toward me. We met in the middle.

“I’m a river. I can flow peacefully,” I
muttered to myself.

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, nothing. Sorry.” I gave her a shaky
smile.

“I’ll walk you to Mr. Thomas’ office. They
are ready for you.”

“Thank you,” I said, trying very, very hard
to keep my hands at my sides instead of doing something crazy like slipping my
hand into hers to steal some of her cool.

That wouldn’t be weird, right?

She gave me a sincere smile, the first one
actually, and led the way down the long hallway.

We turned right, passing more expensive
paintings, and some movie posters, then we took a left turn, this time passing
a whole bunch of small offices. Each time we passed an open door, I was ready
to jump out of my skin with nervousness. When we made yet another turn, I was
starting to feel like a hamster trying to get to its treat. Then there was only
a big door in front of us.

I came to a halt. Was I really doing this?
Was this really happening?

Shit!

Who was I kidding, this was going to be a
complete disaster!

I was no majestic waterfall. Not even close.

The brunette stood next to the door and her
hand paused on the handle before she pulled it open. Clearly, she was waiting
for me to come closer, but I was having none of that. I lifted my eyes up to hers.

Fight or flight?

I was seconds away from flight.

Damn it!

How many turns had we made? Could I even
find my way out of that labyrinth of hell without her?

I took an involuntary step back to test the
waters and the next thing I knew she was standing right next to me, asking if I
was okay, her hand surprisingly strong at my back.

I made an awful, awful mewling sound in my
throat and then started coughing. When I was done with all that nonsense, her
face had softened up.

“Sorry,” I murmured.

“You are nervous about the meeting?”

“It can’t be that obvious,” I said, trying
to chuckle.

“You have nothing to be nervous about. I
loved your book,” she stated, shocking the hell out of me.

My eyes widened. “What? You did? You read
my book? You actually know who I am? Did you say you liked the book?” I asked,
holding my breath. Well, she obviously had good taste; it was a damn good book
after all.

“Yes, I did, and of course I know who you
are. And right after this meeting, if you accept their offer, a lot more people
will know about your story. You hit it big.”

I didn’t want to hit it big or get bigger.
I didn’t want to get anything. At that moment, all I wanted was to get in my
bed and hide under my covers.

“But you have to go in now.” I could see
she was waiting for me to move already. “Mr. Thomas has a packed schedule and
he is already behind.” She checked her dainty little watch then looked back at
me. “Go on now, there isn’t much time until his next appointment.”

I wasn’t budging.

Before I knew what was happening, she had opened
the door and was ushering me inside.

Catching myself before I fell down on my
face, I came to a halt and heard the distinct sound of a door closing. I looked
over my shoulder.

She was gone.

The traitor!

I turned around and found myself face to
face with three suit-wearing men.

For a second I didn’t know what to do, but
then I mentally shook myself off and walked toward them.

I was already in for it, might as well look
like someone who knew what they were doing.

The bald one—I was assuming he was Bobby
Thomas—came forward and met me halfway, quickly offering me his hand.

“Hello, Miss Taylor, I’m Bobby.” He greeted
me with an easy smile on his face. If his eyes hadn’t been fixated on my
breasts, I would have said he looked friendly.

Annoyed, I angled my face and caught his
attention. “Nice to meet you Mr. Thomas,” I said pointedly.

“We’ll have none of that. Call me Bobby. By
the end of all this we’ll get to know each other much better.”

I forced a smile on my face and gently pulled
my hand out of his grasp.

The other two didn’t get up from their
seat, but had their eyes on me again, assessing me.

Walking by my side, Bobby led me to the
long table in front of the floor to ceiling windows.

Managing to look around, I noticed that we
were in some kind of conference room, which did nothing to calm my nerves down.
I was beyond out of my depth here.

“Olive, this is—can I call you Olive?”

“Sure,” I mumbled, distracted by his hand resting
on the small of my back.

“Great. Olive, I’d like to introduce you to
the youngest member of our company, Keith Cannon.”

With those pale blue eyes and sharp
cheekbones, Keith Cannon made a very impressive first impression.

“Nice to meet you Keith. I’m Olive Taylor.”

I smiled up at him and shook his warm hand.
He had long, strong fingers. His teeth looked a little too white, a little too
blinding to be natural, but it was hard to find natural in LA.

Next to him, a shorter, younger guy who was
busily typing away on his laptop got up and briskly shook my hand as Bobby
continued with the introductions.

“This is probably very exciting for you, and
if we agree on our terms, he will be the screenwriter for the movie. It’s
important that we reflect everything in your story onto the big screen as well
as you managed to do in a few hundred pages so I wanted you to meet Harry
Schuman and hear out his ideas. He is actually here for our next meeting, but
we’re running a little late today, so since he is already here, we wanted him
to sit in on this with you.”

I nodded and after the pleasantries took my
seat across from them.

“We understand that at this time you have
no book agent, Olive. Is that right?” Keith asked.

“Yes,” I answered. “This wasn’t something I
was expecting to happen. At all. I’m an indie author, and as you must already
know,
Soul Ache
is my first novel, which makes all this even more
surreal.”

“We understand that it could be a little
overwhelming, but you definitely impressed us with your story and we wanted to
get your attention before anyone else could steal you.”