Cross your Heart Page 13

  Swallowing as quickly as I can, I stare at her.

  “Oh, shit. It’s big.”

  My head moves up and down quickly.

  “Cock big?”

  My head repeats the same movement.

  “Whose cock?”

  “Reid.”

  Mouth hanging open, she blinks repeatedly.

  I shove the rest of the Snickers into my mouth.

  “I feel like I’ve been fucked,” she murmurs. “I need a shot of tequila and a cigarette. Holy shit, Roxy. When? Where? How? Wh- Fuuuuck.”

  She drops to her couch, her face bouncing on the screen. “Were you drunk? Was he drunk?”

  “Are you alluding to the possibility that I got him drunk enough that he fucked me by accident?”

  She shrugs. “Sounds worse when you say it like that.”

  “Neither of us were drunk. We were arguing and then it just happened…”

  She barks out a laugh. “Fucking doesn’t just happen.”

  “You have a child because of that very reason.”

  Brooke shakes her head, lips pursed. “No, I have a kid, because I got drunk and fell down some stairs onto my high school boyfriend’s cock.”

  “The room was upstairs.”

  “I fell upstairs onto my high school boyfriend’s cock. Sober fucking doesn’t just happen. There is eye contact and silent conversations that say things like ‘you wanna fuck, or nah?’”

  Scratching my neck, I glare at her.

  “How was it?”

  Exhaling heavily, I bite my bottom lip. “Mind-blowing.”

  Snippets of the morning invade my mind.

  His teeth on my neck.

  The way my body molded to his.

  The rough jerk of his body thrusting forward, filling me.

  You feel so fucking good, Rox.

  The growl he made as he emptied inside of me.

  “What happened after?”

  I clench my thighs, a little ashamed at how turned on I am while still talking to my friend.

  “We started to fuck again, and Ari turned up.”

  “The Australian?”

  “Mm.”

  “Did he walk in?” she asks excitedly.

  “No,” I reproach. “Calm your farm, it wasn’t some scandalous three-way.”

  “That would’ve been hot.”

  I laugh. “So hot.”

  “What does this mean going forward?” Brooke asks quietly, the concern in her voice leaking through without her permission.

  “I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “I… I think we’ve been struggling to find some semblance of what we had. Which is impossible,” I argue, working to convince myself. “It just exploded in our faces.”

  “Just because you’re no longer best friends, doesn’t mean you can’t be something else,” Brooke suggests. “Enough time has passed. Maybe your feelings are more romantic toward one another.”

  “How though?” I question vehemently. “How does he go from pushing me away for wanting what just happened to promising me it was going to happen again?”

  “He said that?”

  “Mmhmm.”

  “Wow.”

  “Brooke, we have a sex scene today for the film,” I worry. “How can I go in there knowing his cum is inside me and pretend it’s not real.”

  “Wouldn’t it be easier?” she asks. “Now you know how he fucks, just reenact this morning.”

  I groan.

  “Don’t overthink it,” she offers. “Get out of your head. You’re Roxy Monroe, actress, not the once upon a time best friend of Reid. You’re you. Nail the scene, not even sorry for that pun, then lose your mind about getting your freak on, on the kitchen table.”

  My head moves up and down in quick sharp movements. “I can do that.”

  “Good,” she praises. “Now go get showered and dressed, ready to slay that scene. Also, was it big?”

  “I’m hanging up now.”

  “You’re a horrible friend,” she yells down the line.

  Laughing, I hang up.

  Sixteen

  Take Two

  Reid

  “How are you feeling?” James approaches Roxy, her wide eyes taking in the set.

  Shifting in her robe, she tips her head side-to-side. “Nervous.”

  He smiles, the gesture full of warmth and understanding. “Reid,” he calls, gesturing me over.

  Roxy, like the last twelve interactions since this morning, avoids my eyes, gaze dropping to her feet.

  “I’m an open book when it comes to shooting sex scenes,” James explains to us both. “We all need to be on the same page for everything to run as smoothly as it can. No one wants to be running sixty takes of Reid dry humping you,” he jokes, tapping Roxy’s shoulder and earning him a shy chuckle.

  “All non-essential staff will leave the set. The three of us, the camera guy, the sound guy, and our script supervisor is all that’s left. The scene starts,” he explains, more for Roxy’s benefit than mine, “those who can, will turn their back. It’s as awkward for them as it is for you.”

  “Doubtful,” Roxy combats.

  James laughs at the dryness in Roxy’s tone. “I’m all for offering my actors space, nothing worse than having Joe’s lovely hairy face staring down at you while you’re trying to look as though you’re enjoying yourself. For that reason alone, the camera will be about twenty feet away at all times. Sound okay?”

  Roxy and I nod in unison.

  “The scene is pretty tightly choreographed…” He waits for us to respond, both our heads moving up and down in easy agreement. “Great. I don’t mind a bit of improv; however, choreography lets me know where the camera angles need to hit. You change the game too much, I lose my shot. Understood?”

  “Sounds straightforward,” Roxy agrees easily enough.

  I look her over, head-to-toe. She, like me, is covered in a white robe. Underneath that fluffy material would be a nice little skin-colored patch over her pussy. A pussy that I was buried deep within only hours ago.

  My cock stirs and I shift my hips, hoping to relieve the pressure building.

  “Any questions or concerns?”

  “I’m good,” I answer.

  “Me too,” Roxy says quietly beside me.

  “Let’s do this.” James claps his hands, turning his back on us and moving toward his chair. “If you’re not needed in this scene, find yourself scarce. That includes you, Hart.”

  “Sorry, Valentine, Monroe requested I be here.”

  My head flicks to Roxy in confusion.

  “This true, Roxy?”

  Swallowing, she nods. “He’s the only one that doesn’t tread on eggshells around me. He’ll tell me if I look like a wet fish without trying to sugarcoat it.”

  “Rivere, do you hold issue with him here?”

  I ignore the mosquito of doubt buzzing in my ear telling me this is something more. The devil on my shoulder niggling at my self-worth pushing me to believe I need to read more into this.

  “I’m cool with it,” I lie.

  Ari sees through the lie, a devilish smile creeping onto his face. Asshole is enjoying this more than he should.

  “All right, go time.”

  Robes off, Roxy laid out on the bed in front of me, I let my eyes drink her in. Caught up in the moment that I didn’t get a chance this morning to enjoy. My mind had a one-track goal, my cock needing to feel inside of her. This is different, I can take in her blush-colored nipples, and the softness of her stomach. The way her skin prickles with goosebumps as my fingers trail up her outer thigh.

  Crawling atop of her, she turns away from my greedy eyes, forcing her mind anywhere but this moment. Her body is like concrete, stiff and lifeless.

  I kiss her neck, but it lacks conviction, fear holding me hostage, too afraid I’ll take it too far. I can no longer tell the difference between Reid and Beau and it scares the fucking shit out of me.

  She grunts uncomfortably, my cold hand grips her leg, attempting to lift i
t. After a second of encouragement, she wraps it around my waist, the movement as graceful as a robot.

  “Cut!” James yells. Fist to his mouth, he stands, moving toward us. “Have either of you ever had sex before?”

  “What?” I splutter.

  “Uh, yeah,” Roxy answers, less affronted.

  “Because right now you look like two fifteen-year-olds fumbling around your first time. You” —he points at me— “not actually sure what a vagina looks like, and you” —he points at Roxy— “afraid his penis is going to bite.”

  “You’re stiff.” Ari comes up beside him, an air of authority to his voice that makes me want to punch his stupid face. “In all the wrong places,” he adds for emphasis.

  “Fuck off, Hart,” I gripe.

  “Nice cock-sock, Rivere.” He winks, goading me as he ambles off.

  Sighing, I look at James. “Sorry. It’s me. I’m tense. Give us a sec, please?”

  Grumbling under his breath, he lifts his chin. “One minute.”

  I watch him walk away before turning to Roxy. Arms covering her chest, she swallows nervously. “I knew I’d suck at this.”

  “You don’t need to hide from me.” I lift a finger, pulling at her arm. “We’re caught off-guard by what happened this morning. We’ve got this, Firefly. Trust me.”

  She shakes her head, eyes glistening in embarrassment.

  “First time you made my cock hard was when we were fourteen.”

  A sharp intake of breath, then quiet, eyes watching me carefully.

  “It was at my birthday party. By the beach?” I test.

  She blinks in recognition.

  “We’d been friends so long, I didn’t think of you as a girl.”

  “Thanks,” she scoffs, her arms dropping from their defensive position.

  “You were wearing this bikini.” I ignore her indignation, continuing on. “Fuck.” I tip my neck back, remembering the moment vividly. “It was red.”

  Tongue dipping out of her mouth, she licks her lips.

  “I don’t know if you’d always had tits like that and I’d never noticed up until that point or whether they grew overnight, but shit, my eyes noticed them about a second before my cock did. Thank fuck I was in the water and no one could see.”

  She laughs. “You avoided me the whole day.”

  “And the week after,” I offer. “I jerked off thinking about you in that bikini that night. First time I ever did it. I was ashamed.” I smile. “I came so hard for you,” I whisper. “Kinda like I did today.”

  I faintly hear James call for action, but the buzz in my ears is too much. All I see is Roxy. All I hear is the quick intakes of air as her breathing fastens in line with mine.

  Pushing her back on the bed, I kiss her. She lets me. This time her body like butter, melting around me.

  Maybe it’s wrong. Maybe I shouldn’t be enjoying myself as much as I am. But the soft push of her lips against mine erases every doubt. For me, Beau and Abbigail don’t exist. Not in this room. Not in this moment. This is Reid and Roxy.

  Completely caught in the moment, body writhing beneath mine, soft moans tickling my eardrums and lips eagerly tasting mine, I hope Roxy feels the same.

  I’d give anything for this moment to be ours. To be alone, giving me the ability to savor every touch just that little bit longer.

  I let my lips veer from her mouth, peppering down her neck and jaw, tasting... teasing. Her skin is warm to the touch, a fire under my lips. Her heart patters steadily under my tongue, the sweet taste of her sweat making my need for her grow.

  I’m hard.

  Painfully so.

  She’d feel it. Pushed desperately against her. The torture of not feeling the bare skin of her pussy against my naked cock almost unbearable.

  My mouth finds her nipple, sucking it roughly. Her back arches, hands twisting in the comforter beneath her.

  “More,” she begs.

  Moving across to the other nipple, I offer it the same, this time releasing it to bite the flesh beneath the rosy bud.

  Hands finding my hair, she rips at it, yanking my face from her skin.

  Mismatched eyes, flaming with a lust I feel I consumed by, drink me in.

  “Touch me,” she pleads. “Somewhere.” Her lips drag across my chest, the words spoken only for me. “Anywhere.”

  I freeze. The line between reality and fiction isn’t just blurred. It’s unrecognizable. Criss-crossed in a knotted mess of lies and desire.

  “Please, Reid,” she urges.

  Reid.

  This isn’t for the cameras. This isn’t her finding herself in Abbigail. This is Roxy, pure and simple, and what’s unfolding is as real for her as it is for me.

  So wrong, my mind pulses with uncertainty.

  But so fucking right, my cock jerks in incitement.

  Moving down her body, in line with the script, I let my face push against the flesh-colored patch hiding her pussy.

  She’s wet. Her excitement leaking through the material, spurring me on. Dragging my thumb against her, she bucks into my touch.

  “Trust me?” My words are murmured along her inner thigh, the tip of my tongue trailing the soft skin.

  “Yes,” she hisses.

  “Call me baby.”

  Her eyes flicker in recognition for a beat, but she nods.

  This might be for us, but it is in front of the camera. The last thing either of us needs is the sound of my name on her lips.

  Licking the pad of my thumb, I let my hands grab her naked ass cheeks, spreading them and giving the viewer the impression of a man diving deep into a face full of pussy.

  If only.

  Instead, I let my thumb wander, stopping only as it presses against the tight pull of her ass. A stuttered breath, her body pausing for a single beat before she exhales, the soft sound dripping in need. I press forward at the same time she does, the tip of my thumb disappearing into her greedy ass on a satisfying groan.

  My cock is leaking, beading with the unwieldy swell of cum heavying my balls.

  “Like that,” she appeals, her body stretching, arms lifting above her head, the beautiful line of her body on complete show.

  I bite her thigh.

  Her breathing stutters, a desperate cry for more following the choked sound.

  “Baby, I’m gonna…”

  Her back arches painfully, my thumb falling deeper into her ass, the muscle clamping down as her body begins to shake.

  “Come,” I whisper against her thigh as her body falls back onto the bed with force.

  “Cut.” Loud clapping echoes James’ voice. “Well, fuck. That was brilliant. Fucking brilliant,” he bellows, moving closer. “Look at you two, who the fuck needs rosewater and glycerin spray, you’re covered in sweat, anyone would think you were truly fucking.”

  Reluctantly, I slide my finger from her protesting body discreetly. Robes are thrown to us haphazardly, I cover Roxy’s body before shifting awkwardly into mine. Working not to show the remaining crew the exact size of my straining dick.

  Face flushed, lips swollen, eyes wide, Roxy sits, wrapping her body in the soft material.

  “He’s right.” Ari moves to his side. “I almost cracked a fat. You guys are fire on screen. Roxy, I could’ve sworn that was all real. Blew my mind.”

  “Me too,” I hum, watching the color in her cheeks move from lustily flushed to a downright flaming.

  “First take,” James praises. “I’m gobsmacked. Reid, you have a conference call with the studio. They want to go over financials. Also, we need a stunt double for Roxy. She’s not keen on the bungee jumping.”

  “I know.”

  “Monroe, Hart,” James moves on. “Let’s move into shooting where Abbigail confesses she’s in love with Beau.”

  “Cool if I just clean up?” Roxy tests softly, pulling the robe around her more securely.

  “Hair and makeup will need you in ten.”

  Roxy nods, spinning on her heel and disappearing without another
word.

  I move to follow her, but Baxter’s voice rings out across the set. “Reid. You’re late.”

  Seventeen

  Take Two

  Roxy

  The knock is soft, quiet enough that I barely hear it over the television. Standing, I let my feet pad quietly across the room, in no doubt as to who is standing on the other side of the door.

  Leaning against the doorframe, Reid stands to full height when I open the door.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey.”

  Silence. I rock on my heels, not exactly sure what to say.

  “I just wanted to check you were okay.” He saves me from embarrassing myself by speaking. “After today,” he clarifies, unnecessarily. “I don’t know if I crossed a line—”

  “You didn’t,” I cut him off.

  I watch his body deflate with relief, the coiled muscles releasing with my assurance.

  “Do you want to come in?”

  He chooses to nod instead of speaking. His body heat radiates heavily as he edges past me and into my suite. I can smell him, the soft scent of soap overpowered by a hint of cigarette smoke and an intoxicating mix of something sweet and fiery.

  Freshly showered, his dark hair falls messily across his brow, hazel eyes open and alert.

  Pushing the door closed with my back, a good five feet separate us.

  “When did you start smoking?”

  He takes a step closer. “Soon after I got to London. Helps calm me.”

  “While giving you cancer.”

  I hadn’t noticed it until just this moment, but the bags under his eyes are swollen and dark. Prominent in the same way his eyes are weary. Even his body slumps in exhaustion.

  “Does it bother you?” Another step toward me.

  “None of my business.”

  “Just don’t tell my mom,” he warns, a quiet seriousness in his tone.

  “Why?” I narrow my eyes.

  “Just don’t,” he almost snaps and I hold my hands up in surrender.

  Raising a brow in challenge, the look so completely arrogant and so fittingly Reid, I find myself blushing.

  “Do I make you uncomfortable?” He smirks, now close enough to drag a finger across the heat of my cheek.