Chapter Eight
Jacob lounged on the red suede sofa in Sound Bite’s mixing room with Xavier and Savannah while Adam was in the booth; headphones on and rehashing his dialogue from the Iskan City crowd scene. It was a drag to be called back for additional dialogue recording, but it meant his and the other actors’ contribution to the project was almost done. One, two days, tops, and he’d be a free agent until the junkets began in the lead up to the premiere.
He rubbed his palms up and down his thighs. Jenna. Just the thought of her brought a slow sweet smile to his lips and warmth nestled in his chest. Elation rushed light and free in his veins, and goosebumps broke out over his skin. How he’d survived this long without her near him was a mystery. The memory of her arched back in her chair, sexy-teacher blouse and skirt yanked aside; breasts with their rosy teats on show just for him, creamy thighs spread wide as she fingered herself. He’d been harder than he could ever remember being as her pretty moans taunted him across the Transcom connection.
“Jacob?” Savannah elbow-tabbed him, one perfectly-manicured brow arched in query as if it wasn’t the first time she’d tried to get his attention. “You okay?”
He shifted to ease the pressure of his zipper on his chubbed-up dick and laid his hands in his lap in what he hoped was a relaxed pose. If she noticed he’d never hear the end of it. “Yeah, I’m good.”
Savannah scooted toward the edge of the sofa; delicate gold belly chain emphasizing the way her black yoga pants clung to her hips, lean thighs spread for balance as she swooped her long blond hair up into a messy bun at her nape. The pose accentuated the sweet curve of her spine and gentle swell of her ass, making him long for Jenna all the more. He wondered if the maneuver was a deliberate ploy on Savannah’s part to gain male attention. An artifice perfected over time until it became a natural part of the graceful alluring woman she was.
Either way it worked a treat. After all, he wasn’t the only man in the room who’d noticed. Xavier ran a hand along his jaw, palm rasping over fashionable stubble. Then reached to slurp from his jumbo pineapple soda; straw noisy as he sucked up the dregs.
“You’re next, Miss Westbrook.” Zach’s voice seemed to fade in and out. His gaze fixed on the mixing bank as he flicked switches and slid levers with long slender fingers.
“Zach, honey, I’ve told you to call me Sav.” Savannah smiled; her voice a hypnotizing blend of little girl and sex kitten.
Zach hunched his shoulders in an attempt to hide the bright color painting his cheeks as he flipped the intercom switch. “You’re all done, Mr Chase.”
Jacob gave the guy credit. Savannah Westbrook wasn’t a woman to be denied – anything. And yet, it appeared their sound engineer hadn’t had the privilege of sampling her wares.
Adam held the door open as Savannah sashayed past him into the recording booth, flimsy blue fabric of her crop top rippling in the draught from the air-con, and boosted herself up onto the waiting stool. “Ready when you are, Zachary.”
“Seems Zach’s the flavor of the minute.” Adam groaned under his breath and dropped down onto the sofa beside Jacob. He scooped a fistful of shelled pistachios from the bowl on the glass coffee table and poured them into his mouth.
“Looks that way.”
Adam crunched through the nuts and reached for a low-carb soda, popped the tab, swigged and swallowed. “Another poor sap takes the bait.”
Jacob snorted and leaned his head back, arch of the cushion supporting his neck.
“Speaking of poor saps…” Jacob opened one eye and glared at his friend. “When’s Jenna arrive? Or haven’t you invited her yet?”
“No.” Something in him twisted up tight at the thought. What if he asked her and she turned him down? But then, a voice whispered inside his head, if he didn’t ask the answer would definitely be no. “Haven’t had time.”
It wasn’t a complete lie. He’d still been shooting scenes right up until the last day when Oswald wrapped the project. Then he’d slept for close to twenty-nine hours straight. He’d spent the following day and a half feeling like a zombie on steroids. A strange mix of exhaustion and energized enthusiasm brought on by differing time zones and the absence of a demanding schedule. The empty pizza boxes, soda cans and beer bottles, sub wrappers, and butterscotch pudding cups, littering the designer furniture of his apartment declared themselves witness to his post-wrap carb binge. It hadn’t been pretty. But the long hot showers were the definition of bliss. Two days passed before he was convinced he’d gotten rid of every last grain of sand, smear of fake blood and makeup from his skin, and gel from his hair.
It’d felt good to lounge around in nothing but a pair of old sweats. To watch the sun set to the husky cadences of Persephone Jones’ debut album Bootleg Blues, and stay up late talking with Jenna without worrying about early calls to set. His extra-long black leather couch proved a wise purchase when he woke draped in the old crochet throw his grandmother made him, the midday sun streaming bright and warm across his face.
Okay, so he wasn’t that busy, but it was his process dammit. And he hadn’t wanted to think about anything work related, including the rapidly-approaching red carpet premiere.
“Isn’t that why you have a PA and an agent?” Adam smirked; the bastard. “Go on, get Rick or Ingrid on it. What’s the problem, you think she’ll turn you down?”
He didn’t, not really. Money could be an issue, but he’d already decided to have her ticket waiting at the airport for her once he’d invited Jenna to be his plus-one. Jacob tugged his phone from his pocket and brought up Ingrid’s number.
She answered on the second ring. “Jacob, darling, are you finished recording?”
“Just about to go in. Hey, can you do me a favor?”
“Sure thing, darling.”
“Can you mail Jenna an invite for the premiere? I’ll text you her address.”
“It’ll be in this afternoon’s post.”
He could hear the smile in her voice, along with the million or so questions she was dying to ask. “Thanks, make it priority registered.”
“Of course. Anything else, darling?”
“No, no, that’s it.”
“Okay, Auf Wiedersehen.”
The call dropped out before he could say anything else, and he pushed his phone back into his pocket. He’d make sure to message Jenna as soon as he finished up.
Adam handed him the platter of gourmet sandwiches but Jacob waved him off. He didn’t eat before recording dialogue. Adam shrugged and lounged back with the platter balanced across the threadbare thighs of his designer-faded jeans, and bit into what looked to be a beef and horseradish bagel with sesame sprinkle.
♥♥♥
It was after midnight when Jacob made it home. Adam, Xavier, and Savannah, having convinced him on the merits of Siesta Sid’s chili-beef enchiladas. The guys vetoed Savannah’s karaoke and shots idea in favor of margarita pitchers and a few games of pool. She pouted prettily and played the part of pool cue virgin with Oscar-winning skill, but none of them were fooled. They’d all lost too many Ben Franklins to that pout over the years.
His phone gave a cheerful bleep from where he’d tossed it on the comforter, then stripped down and headed for the bathroom to take a leak and brush his teeth. There was only one person who’d send him a video chat request at one in the morning. Jenna. He grinned at his reflection and ran his fingers through his tousled hair.
Jacob tossed back the comforter and slid between the sheets, twisting awkwardly to stack his pillows for optimal leaning before tapping the Accept button.
“Hi, Sweetheart.” He grinned and his heart flip-flopped in his chest when Jenna grinned back, green eyes sparkling with happiness and something hot enough to set his entire body aflame. “Was just thinking about you.”
“Well, duh.”
Jacob laughed out loud. This woman did him good in ways he had no words to describe; knocked him off-guard in the best way.
“What are you doing three weeks from tomorrow?” He asked, gaze fixed on Jenna’s face. Wayward tresses of her dark red hair brushed her cheeks and fell to caress the bare creamy flesh of her shoulders. His fingers itched to tangle in the fiery silk and pull her close enough to kiss. “Can you get time off work?”
“Three weeks from tomorrow…” Her attention drifted, the little concentration line appearing between her brows as she tapped at a keyboard outside the frame of his phone’s screen. “Are you talking just the one day or…?”
She shot him a mischievous smirk and Jacob felt hot all over, like a naughty kid caught out by his teacher. “As many as I can get.”
“I know what you mean. See you in six months sounded doable standing in the airport with our arms around each other and you whispering sexy promises against my ear, but not so much in reality.”
Jacob nodded; a dejected look in his warm brown eyes as he ran a hand through his hair. “You’re not alone, Sweetheart.”
“Hmmm…” She was distracted again. “Yes, and I can do a week either side too.”
Jacob’s heart thudded an extra beat in relieved anticipation.
“What have you got planned?”
“Ingrid sent the information today, but I wanted to make it official and ask in person.” He waved a dismissive hand, corner of his mouth tugging up in amusement. “Well, as in-person as a live chat window can be, anyway. Will you be my date to the LA premiere? They’re not as glamourous as the media makes them out to be, but I know how much you liked the previous films and I’ll be there, so it won’t be a total loss.”
He was babbling, he knew, but he couldn’t seem to stop. It was why he’d delayed asking in the first place.
“I’ve got Rick on standby to book your flight once you give me the dates.”
“Jacob.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes.”
“Yes?”
“Yes.”
He laughed; a light kinda-goofy sound as he fist-pumped the air, heard her laughing too.
“What? After all these months apart you thought I’d turn down a chance to be in the same hemisphere again?”
“Uh, yeah, sounds stupid when you put it like that.” He yawned, the release of tension combined with the margaritas and the late hour had drained him of his energy.
“Fuck, I want to kiss you right now.” Jenna murmured as she leaned back into the plush sofa cushions and crossed her legs beneath her. He looked so goddamned sexy. It still caught her off guard that it was her he wanted.
“Ditto, and then some.”
The yawns came thick and fast once they’d started, and she chuckled. “You’d better rest up then.”
“Something tells me I’m going to need all the energy I can muster.”
“I can’t imagine what you mean, Mr Starr.” She twirled a strand of hair around a finger and fluttered her lashes for extra effect.
“I could give you a preview if you’d like, Miss Long.” He slipped a hand beneath the comforter, exhaled slow and deep as he palmed his cock; felt it grow heavier with each twist and pull he gave it.
He heard a soft whimper but didn’t know who’d uttered it.
“Absolutely.” Jenna murmured; gaze mesmerized by the view filling her phone’s screen. Her free hand wriggled inside the cotton and lace of her panties, fingertips sliding in slick circles over her clit - his name falling in husky broken syllables from her softly-parted mouth.
♥♥♥
The priority registered envelope arrived on the courier just as Jenna hauled two grocery bags from the back seat of her car.
Since her live chat with Jacob, she’d tried to put the fact she would attend a Hollywood red carpet event on the arm of one of the movie’s stars out of her mind. It hadn’t worked but points for effort and all. It was both exciting and terrifying at the same time.
What were the protocols?
What would she wear?
The last thing she wanted was to embarrass Jacob in front of the world’s press, and have the moment immortalized on every social media platform ever created.
She thunked the bags on the polished cedar countertop, sank onto a barstool, and stared at cursive loops of the handwritten address before opening it.
Lunar Studios
Presents
The World Premiere
Of
Dante Jones and the Crystal Lotus
At The
Maricot Theatre, Hollywood, CA
8 PM
Dress: Black Tie
RSVP: Events Coordinator, Lunar Studios
The purple font winked in the overhead lighting as Jenna held the thick card in her shaky hand. Jacob inviting her felt real enough, but this, this confirmed it in the world beyond internet communication.
The accompanying letter bore the logo and contact information for The Muller Agency, and explained that all protocol and details regarding her attire for the premiere would be gone over once she arrived in Los Angeles. It concluded with the expected salutations and the elegant signature of one Ingrid Muller, Agent to the Stars.
Jenna rummaged the nearest bag for the carton of strawberry-fudge-ripple ice cream she’d tossed into her shopping cart on impulse, and leaned to get a spoon from the drawer. Two weeks and she’d be with Jacob again.