I spend the entire scene leaning up against the wall, avoiding eye contact with any of the crew lest they can somehow tell what I’ve been up to in Danny’s trailer. The stubborn flush in my cheeks is relentless, hardly fading as the memories of his hands on my body serve as a wicked reminder.
I pull out my phone for something to do, scrolling mindlessly through emails, desperately trying to assemble my jumbled thoughts into some sort of order.
Could I really jeopardize my career by sleeping with the lead star?
WithDanny Covington?
Would everyone know? There is no way it wouldn’t spread like wildfire if it got out. People would roll their eyes at Danny sleeping with someone who is essentially his PA, but me? I would be branded a slut and probably blacklisted for the rest of my career, destroying it before it even began.
Would he even want to do it again? Now that we’ve done it twice, maybe he’s over it. Maybe he’s got it–me–out of his system. Which would be a good thing. Obviously. Even if I would probably sell my kidney just to bury my head in his chest and feel his strong arms wrap around me one more time.
I could survive on just the memories, and one day when my grandchildren are watchingBetter You Knowon TV, I can point and say “He was a fabulous lover.” and cackle whilst they all cringe. I could cope with that.
Of course, that would mean I would have to deal with seeing him everyday for the next month, knowing exactly what he tastes like and the look on his face when he comes.
What could he possibly want to talk about? Surely he’ll just say that it will never happen again. Why would Danny Covington want to keep hooking up withme? There are plenty of other women who would be happy and willing to warm his bed. Or his trailer. God, I bite my lip and glance around the empty hallway as memories of this afternoon assault me. Maybe he only wants me because I’m here. Because I’m convenient.
I cannot sleep with him again and ruin my career. I just can’t! My job isn’t even a real job for god’s sake, and I need to nurture as many connections and get as much experience as I can possibly squeeze out of this position. Sleeping with Danny Covington would only make that infinitely more complicated. Even if it is the best sex of my life.
“That’s a wrap, great work everyone.” I hear Rachel shout from the set. I stand straight and decide that whatever Danny has to say to me now, I will leave with my dignity and my clothing intact.
Danny slides out of the room, glancing around until he spots me. I take a calming breath and head over to him. I pull his phone out of my pocket and hand it to him.
“Good scene?” I ask, awkwardly.
He nods, placing his phone in his pocket without powering it on. “Yeah.” He licks his lip and I pull my hand to flatten nonexistent wayward strands of my hair.
“Let’s go,” I say. “Costume are de-rigging you here so you can just go straight home.”
He nods and follows me to the room allocated by costume so he can change into his street clothes.
I wait outside, trying really hard not to think about the fact that a wooden door is all that separates me from his naked body.
He emerges fully dressed in jeans and a t-shirt and I nearly swallow my tongue. How is he so gorgeous? And how have I already had him? Twice!
We leave, waving goodbye to people as we pass. I don’t look at him, even when we settle in the car. I find myself pressing against the door, as if to increase the limited space between us. Will he say something now? I hear him breathe and can feel his gaze on the side of my face.
I practically dislocate my neck peering out the window.
We pull up outside his hotel.
“Freckles,” he says softly.
With a glance at Jaques, I turn to him, a false smile pulling at my lips. “You must be tired, it’s been a long day.”
“Yeah, it’s been an eventful day.” His eyes burn into mine for a heated second before he gets out and rounds to my side. My hand lingers on the door. When I open it, something is going to happen. If I stay right here, nothing will be said and everything will stay the same. I catch Jaques’ quirked eyebrow in the rear-view mirror and the distraction allows Danny to pull my door open.
I gulp. Saying a fumbling goodbye to Jaques, I clamber out of the car. I rub my sweaty palms on my jeans and I wait until the car pulls away from the curb before I say, “Well I should get goin—”
“Freckles,” he interrupts, grabbing my fingers. Before I have time to speak, he’s pulling me through the front doors.
Dutifully, I follow him through the lobby, marveling at the feel of his warm palm in mine. The foyer is empty as we make our way to the elevator.
Before the doors even finish closing he’s on me, pressing me into the wall as his lips descend on mine. I moan as I part my lips for him, my hands rising to the nape of his neck.
His body presses into mine as he groans, his lips leaving mine to run down my neck, licking and kissing as he explores my skin.
“Danny,” I breathe, as his lips catch mine again. “We said we’d talk.”
