I think I hate him.Until he reaches the first waiter with a tray of drinks and just for a second he glances my way and a mischievous smile plays across his lips, then I realise no matter how much hell he raises tonight.It’s not going to cure me of my infatuation.Dylan Drake is under my skin, and I like the dizzy feeling him being there creates.
-4-
-Dylan Drake-
The scratch along my cheekbone provides a focal point for conversation over the next hour as we’re served aperitifs.Every new person I greet insists on grilling me about it.Unfortunately, this provides Kira with a direct route into the conversation as she fusses over me like we’re genuine pals.I need to get away from her, every time her fingers touch my arm, or anywhere else, it’s like being zapped with a thousand volts, only instead of ending up with smoking boots and my hair on end, it’s my dick that gets hot and rigid.
Why the fuck does she keep touching me?
I can’t deal with it.I need to get away from her, but she’s fucking inescapable.I suppose that makes her good at her job.Trust Falchard to assign me his best minion.She follows me as I make a sociable lap or two of the foyer, catching up with old acquaintances, checking in with the directors I’d like to work with, and basically getting myself seen.It’s a painful experience at the best of times, and the situation in my pants makes it particularly arduous.
If I actually felt under threat, then she’d be a fantastic fucking asset.I can’t fault her dedication to her duty, but this much scrutiny is totally mucking with my head.Like it needed further scrambling.
“I need another drink,” I announce, when her hand alights on my arm for the umpteenth time.I need something to numb me against her presence.She rolls her eyes as I knock back a line of shots one after another.Sadly, not even the burn of spirits can temper the hungry demon that’s taken up residence in my skin.
I’m not overly religious, but I swear, possession is the only logical answer.I’m being ridden by some horny other worldly being.It’s the only rational explanation for why I’m looking at a woman and wondering how wet I can make her pussy before sliding into her.What’s more, and which makes everything even more awkward, is that people keep eyeing us like we’re a thing.We’re so definitely not a thing.We’re never ever going to be a thing.I bat for the other team.Hard to believe that fact isn’t logged in people’s heads.It’s not as if the press don’t shill it at every opportunity.Apparently, I need to give them another reminder…them…myself… I order another line of shots that the bartender kindly lines up for me.
“Don’t you have a speech to make?”Kira lifts herself onto the barstool to my right, and crosses one long leg over the other at the knee, which leaves her toes almost touching me.“I’m pretty sure the organisers would be grateful if you delivered it sober.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s not your concern.”
“Your safety is my concern.”She waves the bartender off.“That’s more than enough.”
Somehow the movement of her legs snatches my attention away from the line of shot glasses, to the narrow strap of her shoe where it rests across her ankle.From there it’s a short journey upwards to her knee and the beaded fringe of her dress, and the split in the side that reveals nothing, but entices the gazer with promises it won’t keep.She’s wearing stockings.Not the hold-up variety, but the old fashioned type that requires a suspender belt.I bet all of her underwear matches.I picture dainty patterned shorts with lacy edges.I like shorts, but normally of the plain cotton variety, the kind that don’t leave much to the imagination, and that look great on a man with a nicely muscled arse and an athlete’s thighs.Kira’s thighs are long and slender, but powerful.I’m sure she’s trained to wrap them around a man’s throat in order to ground him, exactly like the woman in the Avengers.What’s her name?Black Widow?Yeah, that’s it.
My hand shoots out to snatch up a shot glass ahead of any conscious thought to drown the image now floating in my mind’s eye of Kira’s legs wrapped around my neck and her pussy shoved up against my lips.
I don’t even know what a woman tastes like.I’m not familiar with the scent or any of the other sensations.I don’t wish to be, and yet my tongue is peeping out from between my lips to sample the liquid in the glass I’m holding, mimicking the scene playing out in my head.
The alcohol burns my tongue, and sends a shiver racing through my tensed limbs.If I don’t untangle a few of these knots, I’m going to fucking pull something.
Pulling something… Of course, it’s so obvious that’s the solution.
What I need is some prime beefcake, or hell, just a pretty boy in a bowtie that I can hold onto while I slide into him.
“Mind if I join you?”
I recognise the voice at the same time as his musky scent ripples over me.Adam Bask—once hot property, currently on everyone’s do not engage list.I’m not sure what the stupid beggar did to piss off so many people.It has to have been something major because I heard even theZombilancheteam balked at working with him.
He fills the space between Kira and me.Thus obliterating my view of her endless creamy legs.His palm splays across my back between my shoulder blades, while he reaches for one of my shots.
My heart does a little jig, while I simultaneously fight an irrational desire to shove him aside and kick him in the nuts.I never thought this man would ever be my saviour, but I can’t deny his timing is impeccable.
“Don’t look so surprised.You didn’t think I was going to leave you hanging after the note we left things on last time.”
Adam Bask shoots me a villainous grin as he knocks back my poison.I think we have very different memories of what happened, and where we left things the last time we met, but I let it ride.It suits me just fine to have him filling up my field of vision.I reciprocate his leading man grin, like I’m actually glad to see him.“Adam.It’s been a while.”
“Too long.Tahiti.The Feinstein & Clairmont ad.”He leans against the bar, every inch the film star he currently isn’t.It’s an act that he’s perfected though, and it’s got him way further than you’d ever imagine possible.“So, I’ve just been talking to Sam, and he thinks he might have something for me alongside you in the new season ofOldrich.I’m sure we can steam things up together.”
I doubtOldrich Halldirector, Sam Rust, is even in the room.He despises these events, and on the off chance that he is, the likelihood that he’s spoken to Bask let alone offered him a part is several million to one.I’ve more sense than to remark on that fact.Adam Bask is full of bullshit, but right now his irrepressibly charming visage is serving a useful purpose.Looking at him, I’m feeling the most stable I have all evening.Maybe it’s just the effect of the shots kicking in.Maybe the dose of prime man flesh has conveniently realigned my chakras.Whatever it is, I’m feeling benevolent.I can spare him some time.
“So, do you think that’d be fun?”He peeps at me through his eyelashes like a scheming coquette, but then that’s exactly what he is.“Me and you, hanging out on set again.”
We made one advert together.That’s the sum total of our professional relationship, yet the way he says it, you’d think we’d filmed forty-odd episodes of a prime time drama.
“Sam’s not been specific about the part yet, but we both know how that duke of yours rolls.”
With anything he fancies…An accusation the tabloids have been keen to saddle me with too.I swear people forget that the actor is not the character and vice versa.Maybe that’s what this thing with Kira is about.I keep reading stories about myself, so now I’m starting to blur the lines between reality and movie magic.Then again, I can’t really fault the media.They’re only extrapolating on the truth.Rolling with whatever takes my fancy is something I’ve definitely done, especially when the booze is flowing, and yeah, that includes some up close and personal time with the man before me.
