* * *

Synopsis:

In Hollywood everyone dreams about the fairytale ending. But I’m not promising her happily ever after. Just one night with the beast.

You know what’s f*@#ing ironic? They used to call me Gabe the Babe.

Of course, that was before an IED blew half my face off.

Now my scars are all anyone can see. Unless I’m prowling the floors of an LA sex club.

When I walk in there, barely dressed, women aren’t looking at my face. Not when I’m packing a python like this.

I thought I had it all figured out. Meaningless sex, no strings, no pitying looks…

But then I saw her. With her innocent doe eyes, her plump lips and her breakneck curves… I know one night could never be enough. Hell, one lifetime seems too short.

I can’t believe I just landed the role of a lifetime. Every actress dreams of her big break and my star is on the rise. It’s a dream come true.

I’ll be playing a nymphomaniac in the blockbuster of the year. There’s only one problem: I’ve never had an orgasm.

Ever.

Not even one.

So now I’m in a sex club trying to research my role when I run into the sexiest beast I’ve ever seen.

Literally.

All of a sudden I’m thinking of doing a different kind of research.

With him. Between the sheets. Naked.

* * *

I know a lot of guys like to get pumped up before they come to places like this, and I don’t mean they give themselves a pep talk in the mirror. I mean, what do I know? They could be jerking their cocks in the mirror, that might be their thing.

I’m not judging.

When they come to a sex club, they want the goods to look as big, as eye-catching, and hopefully as mouth-watering as possible. After all, if we’re going to be walking around in our tighty-whities, they want to make sure they have something to fill them up with.

That’s not my game. I don’t need to give myself a painful set of blue balls before I show up. My confidence might have been shaken when they pieced me back together after our Humvee hit an improvised explosive device overseas, but no one is looking at my sewn together face when they see what I’m packing.

I walk past the familiar faces crowding the different parts of the club. As I strut by, I glaze over the usual bunch of women out tonight. My white, almost translucent, underwear reflects the lighting in each area as I walk through. They glow an eerie purple and the ridge of my cock’s helmet and all the veins seem to pop as I make my way through the seated section under black light where women are taking things slow, engaging in the art of seduction, dragging it all out. The walls flash in erratic shades of gray and white as I look like I’m choppily hopping over the floor under the strobe lights on the edge of the dance floor where some women are already completely naked and having their bodies sucked, licked, squeezed and teased by more than one guy.

I take a look as I pass them, but seeing them exposed like that, it just doesn’t have the same effect. I’ve been doing this circuit for over half a year now, and I’ve met all the women who come here. I’m not sure what I’m looking for anymore. When I first showed up, it was obvious, I just wanted to feel wanted again. I wanted someone to look at my body, at my fat cock, and give me a chance for the night. No conversations about the military. No pitying glances at my scars. No discussions about how many surgeries it took to put me back together. Just pure passion. It gave me nights where I could feel normal again. It took stripping off almost all of my clothes to feel less naked and less vulnerable than my deep scars down the side of my eye make me feel in the day.

I stop at the bar and Mitch nods at me. He finishes mixing some girly cocktails and hands them off to a couple of ladies wearing leather bodysuits with holes for their tits to peek out. They wrap their arms around each other and hold their pink drinks in their free hands, walking off toward the dance floor. I’ve met that duo before, they’re broken.

All the women I’ve met in places like this are. They might not have the same physical scars I do, but when I’ve gotten to know them, when they’ve spent the night here drinking and getting fucked, I’ve heard the sad stories. Sure, I’ve seen the girls who come out just because they’re in Los Angeles and they want to have a crazy story to tell their friends back in Wisconsin when they get back from their vacation. But the regulars, the ones I see every single time I’ve been here, they’re just as damaged as I am.

Mitch walks to my end of the bar, his eyes shamelessly travel over my body, just like he always does. I don’t mind that he flirts with me or checks me out. He knows that I’m here for the women and he’s always respected that. I’m putting my cock out on display, if he wants to soak it in, I don’t really care. Besides, he always mixes me doubles, on the house. It must be how chicks feel when they go out for the night and just have to suggestively smile and have ten guys falling all over themselves to buy their drinks.

“Hey sailor,” Mitch smiles, he loves calling me that. He started when he found out I was in the SEALs. “Rum and cock? Oh, I mean Coke,” he smirks and gives me a wink. I can’t help but laugh. I was starting to feel too jaded being here tonight. It’s nice to have him lighten the mood.

“I will take the latter,” I lean against the bar and relax as he mixes my drink. Mitch doesn’t overdo it on the ice like some of these bartenders do, so that when it melts, you have a tall glass of rum flavored water. Instead he only plinks a couple of cubes into the glass and then liberally coats them with expensive rum. After a dash of Coke is sprayed on top, he hands it to me, making sure our fingers touch when he does.

“What do I owe ya?” I smile.

Mitch takes his time looking me up and down, the corners of his mouth twitch up and he pushes his shaggy hair back, “Don’t get me started,” he teases me. “You know drinks are always on the house for you, unless you piss me off, then the drinks are singles and the price is double,” he tosses his hair back and laughs at his own joke loudly.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” I smile back and let my eyes wander the room lazily. Nothing out there has changed. More women have gotten naked on the dance floor. One lady with long platinum blonde hair has her lingerie pulled down over her tits and is clutching onto a redheaded woman who is sucking on her nipples from the front, while a black man who looks like he probably competes in bodybuilding has her panties slid down her legs and is nailing her from behind. I watch for a minute, the way her face is contorted with pleasure. The way the three of them are simultaneously enjoying putting on a show and enjoying each other. My cock doesn’t twitch. I don’t get hard. I might as well be watching a truck paint lines on the road. My eyes are drawn to it because it’s something to see, because it’s a curiosity, not because it’s doing anything for me.

“You look bored,” Mitch draws my attention back to him. I shrug. It’s not boredom, more like apathy.

“Maybe I need to take a break from all this for a while,” I take a mouthful of my drink and swallow the boozy trail of heat. “It’s just not doing much for me these days,” I admit.

“Well, I think I can change that for you,” his eyes twinkle and I snort.

“Yeah, well, thanks but you know that’s not how I roll,” I shake my head and take another drink.

“I’m not talking about me, God, full of yourself much,” he rolls his eyes exaggeratedly. “I mean, I know you’re… cocky,” he sneaks a look at my tight, white underwear, “but you’re not even my type,” he puts his hands on his hips. “But that little lamb over there, the one who looks like she took a wrong turn and fell down a rabbit hole into Wonderland, now, I know she’s your type.”

I slowly turn my head and peer over my shoulder to where Mitch is nodding and I freeze.

He’s right. She is absolutely gorgeous. Her long brown hair flows down her back in a waterfall of cascading curls, while a few strands hang down over the front of her shoulders and hug her plump breasts. Her milky skin looks like she has never seen the sun, which you never see in LA. Out here, everyone looks like they spend their eight hours of shut eye sleeping in a tanning bed. With her wide doe eyes, I can see what Mitch said about her being a little lamb. That and the fact that she’s wearing more clothes than almost all the women in this place put together. Did she take a wrong turn? This isn’t an easy club to get into, so I can’t imagine she did. However, from her innocent, fear-tinged gaze, she doesn’t look like someone who has been to a place like this before. I feel like I’m struggling to breathe enough oxygen into my lungs, like just watching her from across the room has somehow knocked the air out of me. Every muscle in my body coils up, my fingers grips the dew-covered side of my glass and I don’t take my eyes off her as I tell Mitch goodbye and begin to walk away.

“Go get her tiger,” he calls out, but I don’t smile back. I don’t risk losing sight of her. Tiger is right. I feel like I’m prowling across the floor, moving in on her, stalking her. It’s as if my body is magnetized to hers. As if something inside me is being pulled toward her, like I’m not completely in control of my feet right now, but they’re taking steps I’m destined to take.

I slide past the nuzzling couples and ignore the half-naked women grinding on each other as I focus on only her.

I need her.

She stirs something inside me, something deeper than the desire to fuck. Sure, that’s there too, I am a man after all. But beyond that, I want to talk to her. I want to get to know her. I’m already drawn into her story and I haven’t even met her.

Yet.

“You look a little lost, need some help?” I slide up behind her and murmur in her ear.

She jumps and whirls around too fast, her nerves are tattooed all over as her beautiful brown eyes flutter open wide and her arms jostle against my abs.

“Oh my!” Her elbow bangs against my stomach and her glass of bubbly gets knocked sideways in her hand, dumping empty over my body and traveling down my treasure trail to my cock. The flimsy fabric of my underwear soaks and loses color, revealing my fat, fleshy dick underneath.

“Oh shit!” She starts to run her dainty fingers over my skin, attempting to wipe away the champagne. My cock moves a little as desire begins to flood my body. “Oh … shit,” she repeats slower this time, her large eyes soaking in the beginnings of my erection and then traveling up my body until they lock on mine.

I stare into his intense blue eyes and absentmindedly wipe my hand down his body, trying to clean my Dom Perignon off him. It would help if I had something to soak it up with, like a towel or even a napkin.

Or my tongue.

The thought flits through my head and makes my eyes grow wide as my cheeks blaze. My hand trembles slightly against his muscles before I remember that I’m practically groping him at this point.

“I’m, oh damn, I’m so sorry,” I shake my head and force myself to break free from his hypnotic stare. Instead my eyelashes flutter as I slowly look down his body. It’s as if all his tight, ripped muscles somehow just encourage me to keep traveling down over them, leading to the next and the one after that, until I’m staring at the huge muscle flexing in his see-through underwear.

“Wow,” I look back up at him, horrified that I just let that word slip off the edge of my tongue. My fingers flutter to my lips like I’m trying to catch it in the air and push it back into my mouth.

“Don’t worry about it,” his full lips curl up slightly at the corners, “I don’t mind wearing a little champagne, or chocolate sauce, or whip cream, whatever you’re into really,” he winks at me and all the nerve I built up to walk into this club tonight melts down into a hot pool in my belly.

“Oh, no, I wasn’t trying to start anything or whatever, you just startled me. I mean, not that I’m totally not interested. I’m just, I’m new and I’ve never been to a place like this before and … I’m not sure why I’m here,” I barely say the last part loud enough to be heard over the music.

“I’m Gabriel,” his eyes twinkle as he extends his hand and clasps mine gently, he has some deep scarring around his left eye, but it takes nothing away from his rugged sexiness. “You can call me Gabe. I can see you’re a bit flustered. You wanna sit down with me for a bit? I know you might not think so by how I’m dressed, but I love talking and scoping out the scene,” he nods toward his girthy, veiny package. The one I refuse to acknowledge. The one that I can very clearly see out of my peripheral vision. My eyes betray me and quickly sneak another peek. Damn it! I bite my lip painfully hard, as punishment for letting myself be so greedy.

“No, you’re not dressed for it,” I agree, trying to sound very matter-of-fact.

“I’m glad you noticed,” he smirks and his eyes trail over me so thoroughly. I feel like the short dress I wore, trying to look flirty, has evaporated and that I’m the one standing here practically naked in soaking white undies. Well, one part of that is right, my panties are soaked, but not from spilling champagne. I look around the club again and my heart beats wildly in my chest. I may have bitten off more than I can chew with this. My tight summer dress makes me look like a nun compared to all the writhing, sweaty, nude bodies out on the floor. I swallow hard and look down at the empty glass in my hand.

“I, well, I should probably go. This was a mistake,” I mumble.

“I’ll tell you what, how about you take a seat over there,” he points to a quiet corner, “I will get you a refill and we can chat. No pressure to do anything. No expectations. Just get to know each other a bit,” he steps in closer to me and I can smell his musk and the faint aroma of my dumped champagne on him.

I mean, it sounds good. And he does have me hotter than a black sand beach in Hades at high noon, and that’s saying something. Especially for me.

I nod, “Deal.” I finally smile as the tension I have been carrying with me since I decided to check this place out, begins to wash away.

“Perfect,” he smiles back and I notice that his teeth are straight, but not like he wore braces. They’re white but not like he bleaches them until air hurts the raw nerves. He’s so sexy, but he’s so not Hollywood and that’s a huge lung full of fresh air in LA. Gabe extends his arm to me like he’s Fred Astaire offering me to do a big dance number with him on the silver screen. I wrap my hand around it and can’t help how my fingers squeeze his tight, hard muscles. If he notices, he doesn’t say a word, instead leading me to the seats he pointed out.

“Thank you,” I tilt my head and give him another look when he pulls a seat out for me. This time I’m not checking him out, but wondering where a guy like this has been hiding this whole time. How is he not taken?

He slides his drink over to an empty seat and plucks my glass from my hand, “I will be right back,” Gabe turns on his heel and, I will admit, I study his tight ass as he walks away.

Maybe this place isn’t so bad after all.

I lose sight of him as he saddles up to the bar and I let my gaze slide over the sex club. On the dance floor, I can see a lot of naked and half-naked people grinding and licking and fucking right out in the open, seemingly oblivious to how many people are watching them. I focus on one woman who is standing straight, being fucked from behind by a snarling man with his hand pressing down on her throat. Her face is contorted with bliss as she works her ass back against him with every thrust. It isn’t hard to see she’s lost in her pleasure. He snakes his thumb up to the corner of her siren red lips and she opens her mouth eagerly, sucking on it feverishly. Her cheeks hollow as she attempts to deepthroat his thumb, but then she opens her mouth and her lips form a perfect O shape as she tosses her head back and screams at the ceiling. I can’t hear her orgasmic cries over the music, but I can see the shudder travel over her flesh as every part of her seems to find release in the moment.

That’s what I want.

That is why I came here.

“Here you go, for the pretty little voyeur,” Gabe seems to appear from thin air, making me jump in my own skin. He has a way of sneaking up on me.

“It’s Vanessa,” I smile and tuck my hair behind my ear.

“Beautiful name, it suits you,” his eyes drift over me as he slowly sips his drink. I take a sip of my own and crinkle my nose as the little bubbles explode down my throat.

“So are you new to LA? Or just this scene? You don’t look like the typical, jaded waitress who hits every audition on her days off.” He chuckles and runs his thumb over the side of his glass. I watch as it leaves a clear path across the drops, clinging to the tumbler, and remember the woman’s face on the dance floor as she stopped sucking on her partner’s thumb and she started cumming.

I clench my thighs together tight and run my hand over my hair, “I’ve been here a while,” I answer honestly. It is actually nice that he has no idea who I am. Not that my acting career has been stellar so far. Not until I landed this latest role. This one could change my life. If I can figure out how to play a woman who is more like the one I was watching on the dance floor. And if I can manage to lose the weight the director put in the contract. My lips tug down as I look at my glass of bubbly. How many calories are in this? I have to start thinking about that all the time now. Every bite. Every sip.

“How about you? Done any movies?” I push away the nagging voice at the back of my head worrying about empty calories, and focus back on Gabe.

“Me? No, not at all. That’s not my thing,” he looks like I just cracked a funny joke.

“Oh, so what is your thing then?” I raise an eyebrow.

“Well, right now,” he leans in closer and I watch his tattoos jump on his chest as his pecs tighten, making the muscles even more defined, “it’s getting to know a stunning woman.”

“Is that so?” I try to sound nonchalant, but the way he locks onto me with his eyes makes my voice crack when I speak.

“It is, so, let me ask you a question,” he looks down at his glass. Here it comes. Is he going to try to make a move now? Is he hoping I will go fuck him on the dance floor? A tiny part of me throbs at the thought.

“Shoot,” I swallow hard. My hand grips the side of my glass like it might get blown away in a storm.

“What’s your favorite Kubrick movie?”

“Umm, what?” My mind scrambles to process a question, I wasn’t expecting at all.

“Let me guess, is it Eyes Wide Shut?” He tilts his head and his blue eyes sparkle.

“No.”

I can see from the adorable way her eyebrows furrow together and she tilts her head that she’s not picking up on what I’m saying. I have met a few women in places like this who are checking out the scene for the first time, and they have all said the same thing about why they decided to give it a try: Eyes Wide Shut. There’s something about that movie that seems to drive women’s curiosity to a new peak, and once they have reached the summit they realize there’s only one way back down, they have to jump.

“No way, to be honest, I didn’t really like that movie at all. I felt like that was part of the sad decline of his work.” I watch her shoulders slide down as the tension eases from them and she finally relaxes. “Now, Clockwork Orange, that was my favorite Stanley Kubrick film.

A jolt shoots through my body and I sit a little straighter. I have met all kinds of women in these clubs. Usually all they want to do is get the goods, talk dirty, feel like a queen for a night and be on their way, but I can’t remember the last time I met someone who wants to have a real conversation. Especially someone who loves the same movie I do.

“That is the best movie he ever did, hands down,” I feel myself genuinely smiling as I look at her with fresh eyes. She’s like a beautiful, cool breeze that unexpectedly whirls around you on a stagnant summer day. It’s so refreshing to meet someone who is still genuine enough to blush when she gets flustered. Someone who isn’t as shallow as a mud puddle and whose soul isn’t just as dirty.

“I think so too, I really loved the way he brought the book to life.” Her light brown eyes dance and she parts her rosy lips as she finally stops trying to filter everything she’s saying. “I mean, I never think the movie is better than the book, it’s like some kind of sin to say that, but with Clockwork, it’s pretty close,” she giggles.

“We should watch it sometime together, it’s been ages since I have seen it.” I watch clouds of worry roll over her eyes. Why is she here? Clearly, she’s not comfortable with a one-night stand situation. “I promise I will wear real clothes and everything,” I laugh and love how she giggles. I’m not blind, I don’t miss how her eyes quickly flicker down my body. How they hover for just a second on my drying underwear. So, she does have a dirty side. Or at least a curious one. I’m more than happy to let her explore whatever she wants with me. I could teach her a thing or two.

“You know what? Sure,” Vanessa reaches into her purse and slides her phone across the table to me. “Give me your number and we will do it,” her eyes grow wide as the words hang in the air between us. “I mean that we will watch it, not do it. I didn’t mean …” she looks mortified and I have to bite the insides of my cheeks not to laugh.

“I got what you meant.” I type my information into the phone and hit save. “There, done,” I take another long sip of my drink and lean back in my chair. Vanessa smiles down at her phone and warmth blooms through my chest, I don’t think it is the rum.

Two bulky guys in golf shirts walk up behind her, closing the distance between them and her fast. Before I have a chance to assess them, they flank her sides and one guy leans over and whispers in her ear while the other guy stares me down with a feral snarl.

What.The. Fuck?

“Hey, how about you back off buddy, we’re in the middle of a conversation here,” I drop my hand from my drink and ball it into a fist. Vanessa looks around the bar and then up to the hulking man, like she is frightened.

“How about you cool your jets and shut the fuck up?” The golf shirt twin with a shaved head and bushy eyebrows, answers me.

“What did you just say to me?” I stand up and push my chair back and the man is in my face in an instant. It’s crazy that someone so solid can move so fast.

“No, Gabe, wait a sec,” Vanessa urges but I don’t look her way. Mr. Clean on meth cocks his fist back and all bets are off. I dodge his sloppy throw and snap my fist out, crunching against his thick jaw like a cobra bite.

He wobbles, but he doesn't go down. The guy sweet talking in Vanessa’s ear stands up and circles around the table at me. His hair is buzzed but not shaved to the scalp, so he looks a little different from the first guy but it’s not like I’m really studying them.

“Vince! Rocco! No!” I hear Vanessa cry out. Wait, she knows these ass-clowns? I don’t have time to iron out the details because either Vince or Rocco is moving at me and I need to think fast. He swings and I duck but his partner manages to get a good shot in at my kidneys. A dull ache spreads through my guts and tosses kerosene on the raging fire building up inside me.

“You wanna dance, fuckers? Let’s dance!” I whirl around and backhand the kidney puncher in the face, stunning him, and clock his temple like I’m trying to put my fist through a brick wall. His skull is so thick, it kinda feels the same.

Luckily, he drops so I wheel back around to face his friend just in time to catch a punch to the cheek. “Fuck!” I lean over and spear my head into his gut, sending him flying back into the chairs behind him and he ends up sprawled out on the floor. I punch his face and my anger boils up as I hit it over and over until it looks like raw burger. It doesn’t take much time, and I know I don’t have very long before his not-so-little friend wakes back up and comes after me.

“Fuck you, man!” I stand up and see everyone’s eyes on me. Searching the room, I can see that I’m gonna have cops dragging me out of here soon if I don’t get out. I search the exits and see Vanessa just as she rushes out the side door.

The heavy metal door slams shut behind me and I need to stop for a second and rest my head against it. It feels cool against my burning body as I slump into the chilly steel.

He was watching me.

I saw him look up from where he dropped my bodyguards like a couple of houseflies and almost made me want to face the drama to be back by his side. The way his sweat was glistening over his tight frame and how the bulge in his shorts was practically phosphorescent under the black lights of the club, glowing like the magic wand I need to finally make me cum.

My eyelids spring open as I realize that I have no idea how I’m getting out of here. If what Vince told me was true, the paparazzi have tracked me down to this place and the last thing I need is footage of me running out of a sex club all over TMZ tomorrow. They say there’s no such thing as bad publicity, and maybe they’re right, but I don’t want to risk it. Not when I have the role to make my career, hanging in the balance.

I yank my phone out of my purse and tap the message notification bubble with my finger. My agent is going haywire trying to get a hold of me. She’s blowing up my screen so fast I can’t even read her first message because it keeps scrolling down to her frantic messages.

Fiona: Where ru?!

Fiona: Get ur ass to the car!!

Me: What car?

Fiona: Behind the club, move it, papz is on ur trail.

Me: K

I step out of my heels and pick them up, rushing over the dirty sidewalk still warm from the unrelenting California sun earlier today. I turn the corner to the back alley. It’s creepy and dimly lit. I feel like I’m the dumb girl walking toward the flickering light by the creaking door in the horror movie as I squint and scurry to the waiting black car with tinted windows.

The back door flings open as I approach and Fiona pops her head out and starts yelling at me like we just robbed a bank together. “Get in! Get in! We gotta move, they’re on their way!” She waves her hand toward the car wildly.

I jump inside and slam the door shut behind me. “Okay, I’m in. Let’s go.” I let my shoes drop to the floor and Fiona jerks her frizzy puffball of red hair, that’s mostly escaped its bun, toward the driver and he starts the engine.

“God, here come the human vultures, ready to pick the skin off your bones. Look at these assholes,” she sneers out the back window at the heavy-set men carrying long lens cameras, rounding the corner behind us. “I wish we could drive right over them, do you think anyone would really miss them?” She smiles and picks up her velvet, drawstring bag from the seat between us and rifles through it.

“I can’t imagine anyone would,” I admit and crinkle my nose as she tugs her pack of smokes out from the bag. “Ugh, the only thing worse than someone smoking is someone smoking in a car,” I complain, but I know she doesn’t care. Long before Fiona was my agent she was my friend. We went through college together and both got bit by the acting bug at the same time. After a few bad experiences, she stopped going to auditions and started booking them. By now, she’s heard me give her a million stern lectures about smoking and learned to tune them all out.

“Yeah, yeah, here.” She hits the button on her dark window and opens it a crack, “Better?” The blue-gray puffs whirl around in a lazy game of ring-around-the-rosy, slowly climbing higher until they find their way out to the night sky.

“I guess,” I shrug and decide to give up. I mean, she did just save my ass.

The car veers up around the corner and we slowly make our way up the side of the club. The paparazzi disappear in our dust as the driver stops near the front edge of the building and waits for his chance to merge in with the crazy LA traffic.

“So,” Fiona hauls another long drag off her cigarette and blows it like a small smoke signal out the window, “you gonna explain to me what you were doing at a sex club?” She raises a perfectly painted on eyebrow and I squirm against the seat uncomfortably.

“It’s kind of a long story,” I tuck my hair behind my ear. “How did you get here so fast? How did you know the paparazzi were following me?” I try to change the subject but I can see from her pointed stare that she’s not falling for it.

“I was out with a friend down the street,” she smiles. “And it’s my job to know about those rat-faced bastards,” she takes another drag deep into her lungs. “You can thank me by telling me what the hell you were up to tonight. With Los Angeles traffic, it’s gonna be a long drive, so spill it.”

I want to sprint across the room, pushing past the crowd, shoving them to the side, in order to force them to make way for me to follow her out that door. I take one look at the two guys that I dropped who are starting to slowly get back off the ground like a couple of drunk and wobbly giants, then I scan the bar and see a couple of bouncers’ ready to take my ass to the back alley and “teach me a lesson” for disrupting everyone’s night. I fight my instincts to go after Vanessa and quickly scoot around the chairs in the seating area. I toss the empty seats behind me as I go, trying to form some kind of roadblock or at least a speed bump to slow down the four guys who all share the same goal, to pound the piss outta me.

I don’t have time to grab my clothes, I beeline for the front door in my form-fitting underwear and run out onto the sidewalk, into a crowd of flashing light bulbs.

Having men snapping pictures of me is disorienting, and I turn around on the street and seem to get lost in the pops of light and the jumbled words they’re yelling at me. My muscles tense and my stomach lurches as my mind instantly takes me back to the desert. Flashes, garbled yelling, the intense feeling of panic that is telling me to get the fuck out of here before I get hurt. It’s all too much.

My eyes blur and sweat drips down my brow as I can feel the uncomfortable seat of the Humvee bouncing against my back again. There’s a huge flash, a bright supernova of light as my ears ring the high-pitched squeal of death and the fire begins to consume the vehicle. We got hit, or we hit an IED, either way it doesn’t matter. The screaming grows louder and I can smell burning flesh as I look over at Corporal Heinkel, he’s slumped over and his arm is severed at the shoulder. I can see the blood pouring down over my eye like I have stuck my head under a red spray of water from a shower head. Fuck! It’s my blood. I need to get out. I need to escape right now but I can barely see the exit through the acrid, black smoke swallowing me whole. If I don’t get out right now, I will burn alive.

“Fuck!” I scream and the Humvee disappears. The group of photographers reappear around me and they look a little frightened as they step backward.

Use your five senses, I remind myself, it’s only a flashback. I stomp my feet on the ground and remind myself that I’m in LA, not Afghanistan. There’s no gritty crunch as my shoes hit the pavement. I breathe in the night air and smell booze, weed and fast food traveling on the breeze. Finally, I force myself to focus my eyes, looking at the crowd of strange men holding cameras in my face like a bunch of tourists on a wildlife safari who just spotted a cheetah. Lucky for me, they have formed a barrier between me and the angry men from the club who are still very eager and willing to kick my ass.

I might not be in danger of losing my life or limbs like I was over in Afghanistan, but I’m not safe right now either. I need to get my ass out of here before it’s either beaten, or arrested.

I turn on my heel and scan the street like a hawk, searching for a quick way out of this whole scene. I spot a cabbie, munching on a burger, with his light off a few cars away. I rush down the sidewalk, ignoring the people who are staring, and grab the back-passenger door handle, flinging it open.

“I’m off duty find someone else!” The cab driver yells angrily from inside. I start to argue with him when I see her. A black car with tinted windows slowly drives past and the bac- window rolls down. It’s Vanessa. She’s watching me. Her fingertips curl slightly as she waves goodbye and she peers out her window as the car keeps moving down the street until they disappear in the heavy traffic.

I give my head a shake and ignore the cabbie’s protests, hopping inside. “Whatever your rate is, keep the meter off and double it. I have got cash at my place, I just need to get out of here, fast!” I nod toward the thugs who are approaching the car.

The cab driver’s eyes grow wide as he checks out the men who look like they’re about to flip his car over in a kind of mob rage.

“Triple it,” his lips form a flatline and my anger boils back up inside me. The fucker knows he’s got me right where he wants me. I hate being taken advantage of like this, but I don’t exactly have a ton of options right now.

“Fine, but I want your fries,” I reluctantly agree.

“Take them,” he practically tosses the red box of French fries with the yellow arches decorating them back at me, and throws the car in drive, pulling away from the curb just as the angry men reach my door.

“Where are you going?” my driver asks, looking back at me in the rearview mirror. If he’s freaked out by some man wearing nothing but underwear running from a group of goons, he’s hiding it extremely well. But, this is Los Angeles, so he’s probably seen a hell of a lot worse.

“To Olive street, it’s in Cudahy,” I manage to direct him as I jam almost all his fries into my mouth. The truth is, I’m not even that hungry, I just hate to lose and making him give them to me felt like a minor win.

“That’s a thirty minute drive from here. It’s triple the rate, right?” His voice is sharp, like if I fuck around he won’t think twice about pulling a tire iron out and doing the job the guys back at the club couldn’t finish.

“You will get your money,” I snap. “Just drive.”

He peers at me one more time in the rearview mirror, like he’s not sure if he wants to keep driving me, but then he shrugs and turns on the radio instead. As an overplayed Top 40 song invades my ears, my mind drifts back to Vanessa and the crazy night we just had. Obviously, she gave me a lot to think about with her plump curves in all the right places, and her coy smile. But I know that it’s her giggle, the way she blushed and the way she looked at me, beyond my cock or my scars and truly at me, that I won’t be able to shake from my head for a long, long time.

“Who the hell was that guy? Do you know him? Oh my God, did you fuck him?” She whispers her last question as the idea seems to just hit her.

“No, no, nothing like that,” I clamp my mouth shut and swallow the confession about how I wish I had.

Fiona squints at me and then takes one last puff from her cigarette before dropping it out onto the pavement and blowing the last gray cloud from her lungs outside. “Is this about the movie? Because, listen, I know you want to take this part …”

“I have already accepted the part, Fiona,” I remind her.

“Yeah, I know,” she sighs deeply and runs her hands over her hair. “I know this is a great opportunity for your career, but I have got some concerns,” she rummages through her bag and pulls out a tiny plastic box of mints, popping it open and selecting one like she’s choosing a special Christmas chocolate out of the Pot of Gold box. Finally, she plucks one out and pops it into her mouth.

“What kind of concerns? That I will abandon you when I hit the big time?” I tease and steal one of her mints for myself, tucking it into my cheek.

“Ha-ha,” she answers humorlessly. “I’m being serious Vanessa, up until now you have always been the sidekick or the best friend or whatever, but you have never been pigeonholed into one personality type. This new role, it could define your entire career, but it could and probably will define the type of roles people will offer you from now on. If you’re playing a kind of sex-crazed nympho, that is the kind of stereotyping that sticks in this town.”

I suck on the mint and enjoy the refreshing blast of cool as it washes over my tongue. I know Fiona wants what’s best for me, but what she doesn’t know is that I need to take this part, not just for the potential to shoot my star into the sky, but for me.

“I don’t think that’s something we need to worry about,” I smile at her but she does not return my smile.

“Oh no? Well should I be worried about you hanging out in sex clubs with almost naked men I have never met before? Or is that all par for the course now too?” she sniffs.

“You don’t need to worry about that because I will never be going there again. It was too intense for me,” I admit. “I don’t even know why I went,” I lie.

“Research?”

“Sorta, more for me I guess. I mean, this part, this movie, the sex club, it’s all for me, if I’m being one-hundred-percent honest with you,” I drag my freshly manicured nails over the back of my hand and look down.

“What do you mean it’s for you?” She pushes me to explain. Fiona isn’t one for playing guessing games or subtlety. She’s an open book and believes that everyone around her should be the same. So, this tidbit I have been keeping from her is going to be a real shock for her.

“Well, remember how when Erik and I were together?”

“Ugh, yes,” she crinkles her nose in disgust. “What about him?”

“And, I told you he never made me cum right?”

“Well, if his pecker is as small as you said, it’s no wonder,” she distractedly reaches into her bag and pulls out her pack of cigarettes.

“It was that small, but that’s not why. The thing is, no one has ever made me cum. Literally no one.”

“Wait, are you serious?” She drops the almost empty box of smokes and looks directly at me with her eyebrows shot up toward the ceiling of the town car.

“Dead serious. No one has ever gotten me there,” I confess.

“Well, except for B.O.B, right? My battery-operated boyfriend never lets me down even when Josh gets lazy,” she giggles.

“No, not even a vibrator, or any toys. I’ve well, I’ve never had an orgasm ever,” heat prickles over my skin and makes me squirm in my seat uncomfortably as Fiona’s mouth drops open dramatically.

“Shut the fuck up! You’re lying,” she protests.

“I wish I was,” I shake my head. “It is the truth. The sad, pathetic truth. That is part of the reason I wanted this part so bad. I felt like if I could get inside my character’s head, if I could understand her compulsion, if I could experience her world, then maybe it would unlock whatever the fuck is jammed up inside me. I don’t want to die without ever feeling that connection with someone. Fuck, it’s so embarrassing that I have made it to twenty-four and never even come close. I don’t want this to keep haunting me,” I blurt it all out. My deep, dark secret. I wish my deepest burden was a secret drug addiction or something like that. At least that would be interesting. This, it’s just fucking sad.

“Woah, I…” for once Fiona is speechless. She clears her throat and looks me over as if she’s seeing me for the first time. I suppose, in a way, knowing this about me makes her feel that way. “I had no idea,” she finally manages to speak.

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t exactly writing it on the back of my headshots and spreading the news around town. It’s fucking embarrassing.”

“Have you seen a doctor about it?” She seems to snap back from her thoughts and tries to help me figure this out, like it’s a problem we can solve together.

“I did, last year. There’s no medical reason for it. The doctor said it must be psychological, like I can’t relax enough or something.”

“Are you sure you’re not chasing the wrong type? Maybe you should try batting for the home team for a bit. I dated a woman back in college for a bit and let me tell you, the way she ate pussy, I considered turning my phase into a lifestyle. If I wasn’t such a cock slut, I probably would have.”

“I’m not gay, Fiona,” I sigh.

“Oh.”

Silence shrouds us and I stare out the window as Fiona lights up another cigarette. My thoughts wander back to Gabe. Back to the club. The vibrating music and the pulsing need that was growing between my thighs. He had real promise, but now I will never know if it all would have ended the same way with him.

I lean my forehead against the cool glass of the car window and watch the city slide by in a surge of light as we finally break free from traffic and get moving down the freeway. The image of Gabe knocking out my bodyguards in his underwear rushes my brain and I bite my lip as I remember how his muscles, looked like they were etched from steel, as he held his own against them.

I should fire them and hire him instead. Obviously, they’re not worth their pay if they can’t keep one guy from pounding the piss out of both of them. The thought seeps into my brain, marinating, as a smile spreads over my lips. I do have his number. And I do need a new guard. Maybe I can see him again after all.

“C’mon Axle! Go grab your Frisbee, let’s go,” I call out and my German Shepherd runs around the barely furnished townhouse in a jolt of pure excitement. Even with three legs, he gets around faster than most dogs I have seen. It doesn’t take him long to sniff out his favorite red Frisbee from the edge of the kitchen counter and bring it to me with his little stub wiggling.

I can’t help but smile at the pure joy on his furry face as he scurries around the front door. “Alright, chill out, I’m moving a little slow this morning,” I stand up from my worn La-Z-Boy chair and stretch my hands high over my head. “I had a late night,” I explain and Axle tilts his head at me, his triangular ears perked up and listening intently. “Don’t give me that judgmental look, l will have you know nothing even happened,” my dog keeps staring at me, looking into me, and I can’t face him, I have to look away.

You could say Axle and I are a couple of peas in a pod. We both served our country in Afghanistan, we both got blown up for our trouble and we’re both happy keeping our relationships simple. We have each other, and that is the main thing.

I walk across my bare floor and grab my running shoes by the front door. Even in socked feet, the sounds of my footsteps seem to echo in my barren place. What can I say? I don’t care about material possessions. As long as I have food for my belly, beer and casual sex, then I don’t need much else. And Axle, of course. We both came back from overseas broken, both of us carry scars on our bodies and wounds that you can only see if you have been to war. He was a bomb sniffing dog and lost his leg and tail when he and his handler found an IED that exploded. His trainer never came back to American soil alive.

I run my fingers over my sewn together skin as I remember my own recovery from the explosive we hit in the Humvee. It took months of surgeries and rehab to repair the damage that only took a second to rip me apart. For the first few weeks, the doctors kept me in a drug-induced coma because they felt that it would have been cruel to let me suffer the unnecessary pain. Of course, they had no way of knowing that even after they patched me up like a quilt and spent countless hours putting me back together that my own fiancé would cause me the most intense pain of all. She, didn’t even wait for my discharge from the hospital before she broke it off.

My hands tremble as my mind flashes back to our last conversation, “I mean, it’s just different now, you know? I can’t do this anymore Gabe,” she sighed heavily and I could tell from where her eyes were looking and her preoccupation with her lipstick that she was checking out the video of herself instead of me as we Skyped.

“It doesn’t have to be different,” I could see the writing on the wall, but I was in denial. I felt like I had already lost so much, my career was over, I lost friends in the explosion, I wasn’t ready to let her go too. “You always said you hated how much I was gone for the SEALs, well, that won’t be an issue anymore. I’m getting my medical discharge, so I’ll be around more now,” I wince at the memory of how I was trying to sell myself to her like a used car salesman: ‘Take a look at this car! It has low mileage, can carry a lot of baggage and because it’s been in a front- end accident, it’s a steal of a deal!’

“Gabe, it was fine when you were the hot SEAL and I was, like, gonna be your hot wife, you know? But, it’s just too hard now. I don’t even see you anymore when I look at you. I can’t spend the rest of my life with someone I’m afraid to look at. I’m sorry babe, I’m not proud of this or anything, but I can’t be with someone for the rest of my life if I’m not attracted to them. It’s not fair to me, is it?”

I looked at the little video box showing me the face of the man I’d become and I could not say anything. Tears sprung up, but only in my good eye and I turned away so she couldn’t see them. I squeezed my eyelids shut, trying to wash away the image of my scarred face. How could I expect her to want to wake up next to me every morning when I couldn’t even stand to look at myself.

“I understand,” I answered flatly and ended the video chat.

It was the last time I heard from her.

I never wanted another relationship after that. I didn’t even want to get to know the women I was fucking by name. The sex clubs were the perfect fit. They’re dimly lit, so my scars are less prominent, there’s not a lot of small talk, and I got to wear just enough clothes to cover the huge cock they’re all hungry for. After watching women wince and turn away from me at the grocery store, or even worse, bite their lip and twirl their hair as they sip their latte and gaze at my good side, only to watch their mouths drop open and their noses scrunch up in repulsion when they got the full picture, it all just made sex clubs more appealing to me. Strutting around in tiny shorts with a huge swaying cock between my legs had a way of giving me back what these scars stripped away. Of course, hearing the anonymous woman of the night beg me to fuck her or try to seduce me was always a nice bonus. And that’s all I ever needed.

Until now.

The thought is only a whisper on a breeze and yet, just like everything in my house, it seems to echo from the empty walls back at me.

I never expected to meet someone like Vanessa.

Not in a million years.

I stare blankly at the front door, my hand frozen over Axle’s leash as I remember her smile. There was something so innocent, so alluring about the way she genuinely looked at me when she laughed. I remember how she put down her window and waved goodbye to me.

An opportunity lost.

A moment that will become a beautiful memory and nothing more.

Axle whines and presses his cold nose into my palm, bringing me back to the present.

“Sorry about that buddy, I got kinda lost there for a second, didn’t I?” I look down at him and he seems to get it. He picks up his Frisbee and I clip his leash on him, even though he doesn’t need it, but I’ve got to obey the stupid bylaws. I grab my keys and phone as I head out the door toward the dog park a few blocks away.

Just as I drop my cell in my pocket, my ringtone begins to sing from inside. I pluck it back out, but don’t recognize the number. Swiping my thumb over the screen, I answer, “Hello?”

“Hey, um, is this Gabe?” A nervous sounding woman asks.

“It is,” I wait for her to tell me what this is about.

“It’s Vanessa,” she says it like she’s not sure if I’m going to remember who she is. Axle looks up at me and tilts his head, walking beside me down the sidewalk.

“Oh! Hi!” I blow my whole calm and cool act sounding way too excited that she called.

“Hey,” she giggles.

“What’s up?” I manage to say that much more nonchalantly and Axle again looks over at me as if to say he’s not buying it.

“I was hoping, if you’re not busy of course, that you could come to my place? I’d love to talk to you about something,” she rushes through the sentence like she’s trying to blurt it all out before I can say no.

“Yeah, I can stop by, sure,” I answer breezily. “Where do you live?”

As she fills me in I realize two things. The first is that she lives in a much, much nicer neighborhood than I do, and the second is that I’m about to break my own rule about not getting involved, because there’s no fucking way I’m going to let her go.

My fork makes a dull thud as I drop it into the empty plastic resealable container it was delivered in. I sigh and stare down at the bowl in disbelief as my stomach growls in protest. That wasn’t a meal! It roars at me angrily.

I don’t disagree.

The studio has generously paid for me to have healthy meals delivered to my house so I don’t need to measure food or count calories. Just like the trainer, the acting coach and the bodyguards, they have been treating me like royalty, all on their dime.

That is, if you starve royalty, force them to exercise until they vomit and have a couple of men who follow them around, that drop like flies the first time they actually need to fight.

I look over at my clock and get up, plucking the evidence of my unsatisfying lunch from the table, I stuff the container and fork in the dishwasher and realize that Gabe will be here any minute. It’s not like someone is going to buzz me to announce his presence at my gate. I scan my modern, open, ranch-style bungalow. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve done well to buy this new build in Mar Vista. It’s a beautiful house with a nice in-ground pool and I’m in a safe neighborhood, but this isn’t exactly West Hollywood. No TMZ bus tours are going to be stopping at the end of my driveway for a chance to catch a glimpse of an A-list celebrity.

I rush into my master bathroom and brush my teeth. I don’t want any of my mixed greens salad stuck in them when Gabe shows up. I open my lips and look at my pearly whites just to make sure I’m good and then reapply my pink lipstick. I know I’m primping and worrying too much. I’m offering him a job, not a date. Yet, just the idea stirs something powerful inside me, making me feel fluttery and nervous. I mean, it’s not like I’d be opposed to a date …

“Okay, focus,” I lock eyes on myself in the mirror and take a deep breath like I’m doing one of the twisted up pretzel moves from my yoga class.

Ding-dong.

My eyes grow wide and I jump a little. That’s him.

It’s got to be.

“Chill Vanessa,” I pat my fingers over my tied up hair and twist my body to the side, giving myself a once-over before I head out.

Bang-bang-bang! I hear a brusque knock at the door as I make my way over to it.

“Coming!” I yell out in a sing-song voice that reminds me of my mother’s weird ability to answer the phone is an eerie falsetto, no matter what was going on in our home. Her children could literally be slaying each other and she’d still manage to answer our telephone with a vibrant and bright, “Hello!”

I cringe at the idea that I’m waking up every morning just twenty-four hours closer to becoming my mother but push the thought from my mind as my hand circles my door knob and pulls it toward me, revealing him.

My God, he’s every bit as sexy as I thought, except, even more so because I’m not drinking and not nervous to be in a sex club. I let my eyes wander his frame shamelessly even as I step to the side and offer for him to come inside.

Is it weird that saying the words “come inside,” two completely innocent words on their own, suddenly make me blush furiously? If it isn’t, I’m not sure why I’m suddenly acting like I’ve never let a man step into my house before. I keep stepping my feet up too high when I walk, like a cat with paper shoes attached to its feet, as I repeatedly tuck my hair behind my ears like somehow, somewhere, a tendril escaped in the last ten seconds.

“Nice place you’ve got here,” Gabe moves his head from side to side, scanning the room. Although I can’t see exactly what he’s looking at since his aviator sunglasses are shielding his eyes.

“Thanks,” I smile and close the door behind him. “I saved money from every role I’ve had, so I could get a house. I grew up in an apartment as a kid, so I really had this thing about a backyard of my own,” I admit.

“Every role? I thought you said you weren’t an actress?” I can see his eyebrows knit together in confusion over the brim of his sunglasses.

“No, I just said I’ve lived here a while. I’m just like every other chick in LA. An actress. But, I’ve done enough movies now that I don’t need to do the jaded waitress thing anymore,” I echo his words from last night.

“Ahh, okay then. In any big movies? I’m not up on all the new films, I stick to the older stuff I guess.” He tilts his head at me.

“Yeah, I’ve been in a few hits, but not in a leading role. I’m always the smart-ass sidekick or the funny friend, I mean until now. Come on into the living room, let’s…” I almost said, ‘get comfortable’ but I bite my tongue and rethink my words. I don’t want to lead him on, into thinking this is a date. I mean, if I’m honest, part of me wants this to be a date that never ends, but that’s not going to happen and I know it. “Let’s go sit down and talk,” I finally finish my thought.

“Yeah, okay, so this is for you,” he hands me the bottle of bubbly that he was casually hiding behind his leg and I gasp when I see the label. It’s a bottle of Dom Perignon. He must have spent at least two-hundred dollars on this!

“Oh, you really didn’t have to do that,” I stammer and wave my hand at him.

“No, I insist. I figured you might want to actually enjoy some later, either in a glass or, you know, off me,” his full lips twitch up into a smirk and my entire body feels like it’s blushing.

“Thank you,” my voice is tight. The image of him in his transparent underwear, dripping with champagne sends a wave of scorching heat over my skin as my pussy clenches tight with desire.

“No, thank you,” he answers, hot on my heels as I walk into the living room. “I just wish those two assholes’ hadn’t interrupted us last night, I was having a lot of fun getting to know you.” Gabe sits down on the white leather couch next to me. Luckily it feels cool, helping me get the heat radiating from my body under control.

“I really enjoyed it too,” I lick my lip and put the bottle down on the coffee table in front of us. “So, about those guys, sorry I had to run off like I did when you guys all got into it. I had to get out of there though. The men you fought are my bodyguards. Were my bodyguards,” I correct myself.

“Oh really? Shit,” he folds his arms over his chest and leans back.

“Yeah, they came to tell me that the paparazzi had tracked me down and I needed to get going,” I explain.

“I thought you said you haven’t had any big parts? Why is the paparazzi following you?”

“I just accepted my first lead. It’s a huge role, the studio is already putting a lot into building buzz and the filming hasn’t even started yet. It’s probably going to have at least a sequel too, maybe even be a trilogy,” I gush excitedly. “Anyway, they hired those bodyguards for me, probably more as a publicity stunt than anything, I think they wanted people to notice that I had them with me so they’d think I’m important and ask me questions about the movie. But I fired them after last night because they’re useless.”

“I don’t disagree,” Gabe answers and finally removes his sunglasses. I pause for a moment and get lost in his beautiful blue eyes, but I’d be lying if I didn’t say I also notice the scar tissue around his eye too. It’s deeper and more profound than I could see in the club last night with raised tissue rippling back to his scalp and disappearing into his light brown hair. The prominent semi-circle forms a mountain ridge around his left eye, speaking to horrors he’s lived through and come out the other side stronger from. I don’t find the scar takes anything away from how hot-as-sin he is. I could get lost in his bright blues all day and never even care about the scar.

I bite my lip and make myself stop staring like a love-struck school girl. I swallow hard and manage to get my thoughts back on track even as he watches me so closely. “I would really like if you would be my bodyguard instead,” I look down at the bottle of Dom and then up to him, wondering if he’s going to take this as an insult. I mean, I don’t even know if he already has a job, he evaded the question when I asked him last night. “If you’re available, of course, I understand if you can’t or don’t want to,” I begin to overexplain.

“You want me to … work for you?” I can see a flash in his eyes and I can’t tell what it means.

“Well, technically you’d be working for the studio to keep me safe, I guess,” I feel silly saying the words. I don’t think of myself as someone who needs protection, yet it’s in my contract so I need to find someone to fill the position.

“So, you want someone to show up in the morning and follow you around all day while you make the movie?” He frowns and his voice sounds tense.

“No, not exactly,” my lips tug down as I look to my hands nervously. He doesn’t seem to like the idea at all.

“Well, what then?”

“I would need you to live here with me.”

“Live here?” I take a second look around at the vast, open house and try to imagine living in it. Compared to my condo, I guess this would be seen, as quite the upgrade. However, I like the familiar solitude of my dingy little place. Sure, it’s not much to look at and it’s not in some swanky part of town like this place is, but it’s home. All of a sudden, I see Axle's furry face invade my thoughts and I know there’s just no way. “I have a dog, a big one, he’s a German Shepherd. I’d have to bring him with me,” I take another look around all the crisp white furniture and decor and am confident that will be a nail in the coffin on this idea.

“No problem, I love dogs. I never got to have one growing up because of the apartment thing, it would be fun to pretend to own one for a while.”

My back stiffens up a bit at the idea of her pretending Axle is hers. It doesn’t sit well with me. He is definitely my dog and changing his address for a bit would make a difference. “I don’t know,” I answer slowly, “how long would it be for?”

“The movie is scheduled to film for three months and we start in a week,” her eyes dart over my face searching for an answer.

One thing she isn’t doing is cringing at the scars. I watched her face, her light brown eyes, so closely, as I pull off my sunglasses. I know she already saw me without them last night, but the dim lights of the club can hide a million sins. Every person who steps foot in that place is looking to disappear from their past for a bit. They want to escape the reality of their lives and to be seen, as the most desirable person in the room. Unfortunately, I wear my past on my face, but even I have, the opportunity to hide from it while I’m there. To be a promise of throbbing pleasure under low lights instead of a freak show with a road map of scar tissue around his eye. Yet, when I took off my glasses, when she saw the ugly truth in broad daylight, she didn’t flinch. The look of longing and lust didn’t diminish or dampen. For a second, for the first time since before the explosion, I felt like someone was looking at me. The real me. And wanting more.

“Three months is a long time,” I finally break the silence. “I’d need to do something with my condo,” I frown.

“I know the studio would pay for it while you are here. You wouldn’t have to find a person to sublet it or anything like that. But, I can see you need some time to think it over,” she runs her fingers over her lips before folding them tightly in her lap. “How about I give you a tour?” She stands up abruptly before I have a chance to say anything and I nod slowly, pushing myself up from the couch too.

“Sure, why not?” I run my hand through my hair and look down at the bottle of champagne I dropped a couple notes on before I showed up here. I thought this was going to unfold a lot differently than it is right now. I mean, I don’t know how smart it is to take a job where I live with a woman that I want to strip down and fuck on every surface in this place. Sounds like a recipe for disaster to me, and I’m not a guy that likes drama. At all. Yet, I can’t deny the idea of seeing her every day, of being around her, getting to know her like no one else can, it makes a powerful argument to take the job.

“Okay, so that was the living room, this is the dining room and kitchen. Out the sliding door there is the patio and pool,” she points to the glistening water visible through the double glass doors leading out to her deck.

“Where would I be sleeping?” I interrupt. “Would I have my own room? Or do you need some extra protection at night, cause I think I could have that covered,” my voice is a low rumble that seems to vibrate over her skin and down her spine. Vanessa’s pale skin glows pink as her mouth opens a little and her teeth bite into her full, kissable lip.

She clears her throat, “You would have your own room, of course,” she runs her hands down over her clothes like there’s a stubborn wrinkle in her dress that she is desperate to remove.

“Of course,” I smile, I love seeing her all worked up and flustered. It’s endearing in a town so full of soulless women, to meet someone so stunning on the outside and so sincere on the inside. “I’m just messing with ya, besides I don’t think you could handle me sleeping in your bed sweetheart. I’d destroy you.”

“I, um, okay, so this is my home gym.” She tries to brush off my comment but I can see it marinating in her mind and making her body involuntarily react as her nipples pebble under her sundress. “There’s not much to it, just an elliptical and some weights, but you’d be free to use it, if you wanted to,” she continues on down the hall, brushing me off.

“No thanks,” I glance inside at the equipment. “I like to run outside with Axle,” I follow her as she keeps showing me around.

“Axle? Oh, is that your dog’s name? That’s cute,” she stops and looks over her shoulder at me and it’s almost too much. I can easily picture her looking over her shoulder at me like that while I fuck her tight little pussy from behind.

“He’s not ‘cute,’ he’s a military trained dog.”

“Wow, is he friendly?”

“As friendly as anyone who’s been blown up in a war,” I quip.

Vanessa’s eyes travel my face over to my scars and she looks like she wants to ask about them, but thinks better of it and turns back around. “So there’s not much left, there is the main bathroom here,” she points inside the large, pristine room, clad in white tile. “That’s my room down there,” she points to the end of the hall and you’d be here.” We stop in front of the open door and I softly brush past her, pressing into her warm, soft body as I step inside.

Did I just hear her suppress a breathy sigh? Or am I imagining things? I look back at her and she composes herself quickly, following me into what could be my new quarters for the next few months.

“It’s nice,” I look around the spacious bedroom. It has a closet much bigger than I’d ever need and comes fully furnished with a big bed, although the fluffy pillows and comforter would have to go. There’s a wall-mounted TV hanging from the opposite wall and a French door that leads outside to another patio. “You know, I’ve gotta ask,” I let my gaze slowly lick her body from her toes up, “you really don’t seem like the kind of girl who would go to a sex club. What was it you were looking for there?” I step toward her and she doesn’t move. I can see her pulse vibrating in her neck as she takes a deep breath and flutters her eyelids.

“What was I looking for?” Her voice is breathy and I can smell her natural perfume. It intoxicates me and it takes every ounce of self-restraint I have in my body not to grab her and toss her down on this bed only steps away from us.

“Yeah.”

“I was looking for you,” she answers.

“Well, you’ve got me here,” I growl as the urgency to rip off her clothes overcomes me. “Now the question is, what do you want now?”

In the time, it takes me to blink once, a hundred scenarios run through my head. In almost all of them I’m naked. Pure need aches inside my core as a shiver of lust licks my spine. The way Gabe is standing over me, his hulking frame eclipsing mine, his muscles almost as rigid and vein-streaked as his cock was last night. I’ve never felt this pooling heat in my belly before that seems to be spreading out, down from my belly button to my pussy. I want to give in to him. I want to feel a real man spread me open, fill me until I can’t take another inch and make me cum. I want to scream his name as my face contorts in pleasure like the woman I saw last night at the club. But I know it won’t happen.

It never has, and I’m not sure it ever will. My cheeks blaze again, but this time with embarrassment, as I wonder for probably the billionth time, if I’m some kind of freak or if I’m broken. Why can’t I even bring myself to climax? What is wrong with me? The last thing I need is to expose that secret to him. Sure, this is the first time I’ve ever felt such a primal desire for anyone, but I don’t think it would change whatever is fucked up inside of me.

“I mean, I was looking for someone like you and someone like the women I saw and just, I was looking to understand the whole scene,” I step back from Gabe, and break the spell we’ve both been under. The intolerable tension between us seems to shatter, like a rock being thrown through a window in a hot car, I feel like I can finally take a lungful of air as my woozy head settles and my wits return to me.

“Why?” He doesn’t step forward, instead the intense stare he just held me under follows me as I make more room between us.

“It’s for the movie,” I answer, pretending that there’s something out on the patio worth looking at. Anything to avoid the powerful, almost hypnotic state I feel when I look at him. “I’m playing a woman who is a nymphomaniac. She’s big into the sex club scene and it’s not a world I know anything about. I wanted to go see if I could understand the draw and maybe learn a bit about it so I can play her character convincingly,” I tell half the truth. Obviously, I’m leaving out the part about my own sexuality. How it’s stifled and I’m desperate to unlock it. How I hope that I can discover what’s holding me back through this role. How I don’t want to keep living a life where I hear so much about the amazing experiences people have with sex, like I am some kind of alien that can never truly understand.

“Interesting, so it’s all just for research then?” I don’t look back at him. I refuse to meet his eyes, knowing damned well that if I do, he will see right through me.

“That’s right,” I answer flatly. “You know, you’re right about me not being the kind of girl that goes to places like that,” I finally whirl around to face him, “but you looked like you fit right in there.” I feel a tinge of anger swirl inside me as it occurs to me exactly how comfortable he did look last night. Like he’s been going for years. Jealousy nips at my insides, how many women has he met there? How many has he fucked? I know it doesn’t make sense for me to care, but I do. I almost feel some strange sense of betrayal at the idea of him sliding his cock into some strange woman out on the dance floor. I can see it in my mind, and I hate it.

Gabe shrugs nonchalantly, “I’m not a stranger there, that’s for sure.”

“Well, if you do take this job, you can’t be bringing women back here. You’ve gotta keep that part of your life separate from working here,” I suddenly snap, the words dripping from my tongue like bile.

“Oh really?” His eyebrows shoot up and his eyes twinkle with amusement as he walks across the room to me.

“Really,” I reply, trying to sound less like a jilted lover and more like a professional.

“And what exactly are you going to offer me to compensate for those lost nights?” He presses his body into mine and I step backward, bumping into the wall. My heart is racing and my knees might not hold me up. Passion floods through me, making me feel braver and saucier than I’d ever be normally.

“Oh, I don’t know,” I look up at him from under my eyelashes, “what do you suggest?” The twinkle in his eye dissolves into something entirely different. It goes from an amused glint to a flash of hungry need.

“I can teach you everything you need to know for your movie, sweetheart,” he pins me to the wall with his hips and drags his thumb slowly over my jaw. I open my mouth, aching to suck on that thumb. Flames flicker inside me as my blood boils for him. I want more than just his thumb in my mouth, but that’s where I want to start.

“What do you think you can teach me?” I encourage him, pushing my hips slightly back against him, I can feel his erection forming as he grinds against me.

“I can teach you how to fuck, how to feel, how to be free,” he murmurs, his mouth hovering over mine. I can feel his breath billow over my skin and I close my eyes, ready to feel his lips on mine. That’s exactly what I want to learn. That’s exactly what I need.

Suddenly Fiona’s ringtone cuts through the tiny space between us like a knife. Gabe and I both jolt at the unexpected noise and I stand up straight as he moves back from me, his eyes never leaving my face.

“I need to take this,” my voice is hoarse.

Gabe nods curtly and strides across the room as I inwardly groan at the timing and answer my phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey babe, I’ve got some news. Some of it is fucking awful and some is fucking amazing, how do you want it?” My agent, the straight shooter, cuts right to the chase.

“Bad news first,” I plug the ear I don’t have pressed into the phone and walk out of the room into the hall like I’m trying to hear her over a concert or something. The house is pin-drop quiet, it’s, the sexual tension I can’t seem to hear her over. Even though it’s silent, it makes my blood rush in my ears like an ocean breaking waves.

“Your co-star quit. He couldn’t get the salary he was demanding and it all fell through,” I can hear her breathe out smoke into the air as she talks.

I stop pacing the hall floor and almost laugh. “That’s, the awful news? Dramatic much? That’s not the end of the world, they will replace him,” I shake my head at Fiona’s theatrics.

“No, Vanessa, you didn’t let me finish. They did replace him already. They’ve got it all figured out, but, babe, are you sitting down?”

“No,” I pinch my fingers onto my nose between my eyes and wait for the big announcement, “just tell me.”

“Your new co-star is Erik,” her words hit my heart like a rock and then that rock seems to slowly sink inside of me until it settles in my gut.

“No,” I spit out the word like it’s burning my mouth.

“Yes, I’m sorry honey. I know you two had a bad break up, but the studio is loving this. They’ve already made a big announcement and everything. And someone supposedly leaked the whole romance that you two had so the buzz is already building about you guys working together.

“No, no, no,” I feel like if I say it enough this will stop. Fiona’s words, will stop and just like Dorothy repeating how “there’s no place like home,” I will wake up in my bed and this will all be a dream.

“It’s true. I’m sorry hun.” She sounds like a dragon breathing fire as she smokes on her end of the phone. I lean my head against the wall and whimper. “But I hate that douchebag. How am I supposed to pretend to love someone who makes me want to stab them in the face? This is so fucking stupid,” I hit my forehead against the wall.

“I don’t know, isn’t, all acting just make believe? Do that.” She answers plainly. From anyone else I’d think they were being a snarky bitch, but with Fiona I know her bluntness is just her nature. She’s right, of course, it shouldn’t matter that he used me like a prop for months, taking me to all the Hollywood parties and telling me he could really see a future together only to cheat on me and break up with me via text right before the Oscars because I was “too chunky to be Oscar red carpet material.”

The fucking prick.

“What is the good news?” I flatten my face into the wall, hoping that she’s going to tell me her good news is she’s fucking with me and this is all a lie.

“Just a sec,” I can hear her phone jostling around and the wind whoosh over it as she yells in the background, “Where did you learn to drive, you fuckwad? Get the fuck outta here!” She screams. “Sorry about that,” her voice is suddenly crystal clear and calm again, like she wasn’t just another raving lunatic on the LA. freeway two seconds ago.

“Fiona, you really need to get a handsfree set. Like, seriously,” I groan. “One of these days you’re gonna kill someone.”

“Not because of talking on the phone, that’s for sure,” she argues, “but if they can’t learn to drive,” I can hear her teeth gritting, “then I just might.”

“Fiona,” I sigh, but I give up before I say another word. I know she won’t listen anyway. “What’s the good news?”

“Right, right, right. The good news is you thought this movie might propel your career and you’re right. Since that whole supposed leak and the co-star thing all the rags are picking up the story. Entertainment Tonight wants to do an interview with you and Erik, TMZ is covering the replacement. It’s all everyone seems to be talking about. I’m telling you, Vanessa, this is going to put your name on Hollywood Boulevard!”

But at what cost? I can’t help but feel like I’m selling my soul a little if making my career means working with a man who treated me like garbage and made me feel bad about myself. I try to push the thoughts, the anger I still have for him, all aside, and focus on the good, but I’m failing. This role was supposed to be for me. It was supposed to help me understand myself and possibly help me explore the part of my sexuality that I still have never uncovered. Now, it’s going to be all about Erik fucking Fisher. The guy who could never even come close to making me cum. The guy who told me I was too fat to be sexy. So much for this role helping me in my personal life. Now it’s just going to be a job. A job I dread.

“Ok that’s great,” I answer her cheerlessly.

“You don’t sound happy about it,” she pouts.

“No, I am. For sure,” I lie. “I’ve just gotta go, I’m heading out for yoga and don’t want to be late. Love you babe,” I chirp, hanging up before she has a chance to protest.

I drop my hand that’s wrapped around my phone to my side, dangling like a dead fish on a line. Pushing myself up from the wall, I take a deep breath, trying to bury the anger and disappointment back down inside, but it keeps splashing up the back of my throat like stomach acid, tainting my tongue with its foul taste.

Fuck that guy!

I whirl around and head back down into the guest room where Gabe is messing around with the television on the wall and he looks up at me with surprise.

“Listen,” I feel my stomach tighten into knots as the bad news about Erik overshadows my life. “I need to know if you want this job or not because I don’t have time for games and if you don’t want it, I need to find someone else,” I snap.

“Woah, good phone call?” He crosses his arms zeroing in on the source of my anger precisely.

“It doesn’t matter. Do you want the job or not?” I put my hands on my hips and face off with him defiantly.

“Sure, I’ll take the job,” he answers slowly, “on one condition,” I can see a spark behind his eyes.

“What’s that?” I answer crisply.

“I’ll take the job and I won’t even argue with your thing about bringing women over as long as you agree that I’m going to do things my way and if I’m going to protect you, you’re gonna play by my rules,” the way he says it sends a shiver down my spine. It isn’t hard to imagine being punished, laid out across his lap with a bare red bottom, for disobeying whatever these mystery rules are. Honestly, it sounds enticing.

“Deal.”

“What do you think, Axle? You think you got enough stuff?” I laugh as even he seems to notice how much bigger the bag I packed for him is than the one I’ve got my stuff in. His dark brown eyes look up at me and he pants, making it look like a big doggy grin. “Yeah, I think we’re just about set here too,” I agree with him like he’s actually talking to me. Like I don’t just carry on a long, rambling and one-sided conversation with my dog all the time. People probably think I’m crazy as I walk down the streets of LA. chatting with him, but I don’t care. He’s great company and he understands me, which is more than I can say for most people I’ve met in this city.

Except for her.

Vanessa’s face swirls in across my eyes in a blurry vision. This girl has got me feeling a way I told myself I never would again. A way I never thought I could. Her plump lips are so juicy and pink, I want to kiss them, bite them, and watch them as my cock slides between them. That part isn’t so different from other girls, the thing that’s different is, I also want to listen to the words that come out of them, and I want to make them smile.

I look down at the duffle bag overflowing with Axle’s stuff. A dog bed made of memory foam is shoved inside at the bottom and his toys, bones and leash are stuffed in on top. Compared to my bag of mostly toiletries and a few clothes, it’s not hard to see who the priority is in this house.

My stomach growls at me and Axle tilts his head, listening intently. “I’ve gotta get some food soon,” I nod down at my belly. I would normally go downstairs and make something, but I just got rid of all the perishable food from the kitchen. I guess I could open a can of soup, but after cleaning everything up, I’d rather just grab a burger on the road.

I zip up the bags and sling them over my shoulders. My thighs bang against them as I walk down the hall and head down the stairs. Axle is right on my heels, curious as to what all this is about. He knows something is up, that we’re going somewhere, but he has no idea he’s in for an address change for the next three months.

Halfway down the stairs, I hear my cell phone ring and I hurry up. Dropping my bags, I grab my phone from the TV stand and answer it just as it’s about to go to voicemail.

“Hullo?”

“Gabe! Gabriel! My man! Gabe the Babe! I mean, shit, ignore the last one,” I don’t need to look at the number to know it’s Ryan. I served with him in the SEALs, in fact he was on the same mission that ripped my face up. Although, he managed to get out of that explosion unscathed. Ryan is the kind of guy who brings the fun to the party. He knows how to have a great time and make everyone feel awesome. The girls love him too, and he’s a kick-ass wingman. All around great guy.

“Hey man,” I ignore the old nickname the guys gave me and his embarrassment for using it, but my fingers grip onto my phone tighter and my back straightens. Before I looked like someone Krazy Glued some skin to the side of my face, I used to be pretty hot shit, and I fucking knew it too.

It feels like a lifetime ago that I would look in the mirror and smile smugly at what I saw. Before I put a ring on my shallow, cheating fiancé's finger I had my fingers stuck in more cherry pies than I could count. A simple smirk was enough to bring home more women than I could count. I wince at the memory. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen that same swooning look, in a woman’s eyes just from walking into a room. Now, when I grab my coffee in the morning, I see how people’s eyes shift away from me. Like I’m a monster walking out of the shadows and into the daylight that no one is prepared to face, so they just pretend I don’t even exist.

“Buddy! I’m heading out on an epic road trip on my Harley, I’m gonna hit all you guys up for a visit,” he sounds like his usual chipper self.

In the SEALs we all have nicknames for each other. Usually it’s one word, like ‘toaster’ or ‘coyote’ but with my old swagger the guys zeroed in on my looks. “Gabe the Babe” stuck for me and became what all my buddies called me. It wasn’t meant as a compliment, more of a tongue in cheek, doesn’t-he-think-he’s-so-pretty, kind of thing. Sometimes, since the IED shredded my face, I’ve wondered if this has been some kind of curse for how I treated people back then. Like it’s all a terrible karmic payback for the hearts I callously broke and women I used.

“When are you gonna be here?” I cringe, hoping he tells me it won’t be until this three months is through. I want to see him, but I’ve got this obligation to Vanessa now too.

“I’m heading to Oregon first to see Connor, then in about a week I’ll be down your way,” he answers. I can almost see the shit-eating grin on his face.

“Man, you’ve got some bad timing,” I sigh. “I just took a job as a bodyguard for an actress out here, I have to stay at her place and it’s all expenses paid,” I explain.

“Wow, that sounds like a sweet gig, does she need another one?” he jokes around.

“Nah, it’s all set up, but I’m not getting rid of my place. The studio she’s working for is covering my rent while I’m there, so you can still come and crash here. I should definitely be able to get away for a night. We can have some brews and catch up,” I wish there was more I could offer. I haven’t seen Ryan, or any of the guys for that matter, since the night of the explosion. I was helicoptered out to an overseas base for emergency medical assistance and by the time I returned to US soil they’d all gone back to their hometowns.

“Sounds like a plan, I’d love to see you for longer but I’ll take one epic night,” he laughs.

“Cool, give me a call when you’re heading this way and we’ll do it up,” I smile.

“Will do,” he answers. “Later man.”

“Later.”

We hang up and I grab the keys to my Jeep and jerk my head at Axle. “Come on, time to see your new home,” my dog hops up and prances over to the door, clearly excited.

Hell, with the way this summer is shaping up, for the first time since before we went out on our mission that night in Afghanistan, I’m feeling pretty excited too.

I slurp up the last of my protein shake like I’m trying to suck the bottom out of the glass. This diet is bullshit. There’s no way I’m going to be able to sleep properly with my stomach so empty and growling. I close my eyes and remind myself of the old saying about the camera putting on ten pounds. With all the high-resolution cameras that we have now, it’s more like twenty. I know we’re filming a topless scene near the end of our schedule. I need to look as good as I can for it.

I would hate to be too fat to be on-screen fuckable.

Suddenly the powdery chocolate flavor from my shake turns bitter in my mouth as anger rises inside me about Erik again.

You know what? Fuck him.

Fuck that guy.

I’m not going to let him ruin this movie for me and I’m not going to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he hurt me. I will be cheerful and completely breezy when I have to deal with his ass. I refuse to whimper around the set like a puppy dog that someone kicked just because I’m stuck with him as a co-star.

I refuse.

Outside, I hear the beep of someone locking their car door with their keychain fob, and my heart skips a beat.

Gabe’s back.

I practically leap from my chair and head over to the door, my cheeks actually hurt a little from how wide I’m grinning. I fling open the door and he shuffles inside with two duffel bags, a grease-stained paper bag of McDonald’s food, and his dog.

I try to ignore the tempting aroma wafting from the bag, instead focussing on my new furry friend. “Come on in,” I tell Gabe then look down at the beautiful pup in front of me, sizing me up. “Well hello there, you sweet thing,” I use my baby talk voice and the dog tilts his head at me. “You must be Axle,” I pet his head and give him a scratch behind one of his large, pointed ears.

“You can just talk to him normally,” Gabe shakes his head, “that’s what I do,” he shrugs.

“What do you mean?” I look back at Axle, “I am talking to you normally, aren’t I you sweet guy?” I mean, yeah, my voice is a bit high-pitched, but still.

“Would you talk to me like that?”

“Uh, no.”

“That’s what I mean,” he laughs at me and un-wrinkles the top of the McDonald’s bag, plucking a few delicious smelling fries from inside.

The camera puts on ten pounds.

More like twenty.

Nothing tastes as good as being skinny.

I grit my teeth together and try not to look jealous as he munches on them. “Want some?” Gabe holds out the box and I shake my head but don’t open my mouth.

“You sure?” He raises an eyebrow.

“I can’t eat them. The studio wants me to lose weight for the movie,” I cross my arms over my tummy self-consciously and look down at the dog.

“That’s bullshit!” I jump at how loud Gabe says it. “You’re body is perfect, there’s no way they want you to change it, that’s crazy!” He looks genuinely upset.

“You know how it is in Hollywood,” I roll my eyes, “there’s no such thing as too skinny.”

“Well, they should pull their heads outta their asses because there’s nothing wrong with you.” It’s strange the way Gabe is looking at me right now, with total disbelief, that anyone would want to change me. It makes me feel sexier, than I have ever felt before.

I shrug it off, I don’t want to talk about weight and dieting. It won’t change Hollywood and it won’t make it any easier. “Do you think you brought enough stuff?” I tease him. “You know it’s only three months right?”

“This one is all Axle’s stuff,” Gabe pats the huge duffle bag that looks like it’s seams could burst at any time. “This one is mine,” he jerks his thumb to the smaller one on his other shoulder.

“Really,” I giggle. “all of that is for him?”

“Yep, what can I say, Axle’s a bit of a diva,” he smirks and folds his McDonald’s bag shut again, putting it down on the kitchen counter.

I can’t help but laugh. “Oh, you are not a diva!” My voice goes back to that high-pitch baby voice and Gabe cringes. “You’re a good boy,” I pet his head and both the dog and his owner look relieved that I use my normal tone.

“Go on Axle, go look around,” Gabe nods at the dog and he gets up and explores. I notice for the first time that he’s missing a back leg and his tail too.

“What happened to him?” I whisper, like I’m afraid I might hurt Axle’s feelings if he hears me talking about him.

“Same thing that happened to me, improvised explosive device.” he answers flatly.

“Oh,” I look down at my feet not sure what to say next. My eyes dart over to my keys on the counter and I look back up at Gabe, “Oh, so I have a key for you for the house,” I cross the floor and go grab it from the dining room table. “The other guys returned them earlier,” I explain.

“So, how did that work exactly?” Gabe leans back against my counter and smiles.

“What’s that?”

“Well, you had two bodyguards and one room for them. Did they have to share a bed, or did one of them get a sweeter deal than I’m getting,” he runs his hand over his jaw and holds me in his gaze.

“No!” The word comes out louder than I intended. “Nothing like that,” I huff. “They were supposed to work shifts, one was here for the day and the other at night. But, they were both supposed to come out with me, if I went anywhere I might need protection,” I explain. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter, they sucked, you don’t, here’s your key,” I thrust it out at him and he laughs. I swear he enjoys getting me flustered more than anyone I’ve ever met.

“Okay, just wanted to make sure,” he teases and plucks the key from my fingers. A buzz of excitement tingles through me, like a low-level current of electricity over my skin as our fingers briefly touch.

I breathe sharply and it feels like time stops, like all the noise out on the busy streets of LA. has been muted and I can only hear my heartbeat in my ears.

Bang-bang!

Both of us jump at the interruption and stare at the front door like it’s foreign to us. “I have no idea who that could be,” I grumble and walk over to it, annoyed at the distraction. My annoyance quickly erupts into full-on anger as I look out the window at Erik.

Seriously?

Don’t let him get the better of you.

Don’t let him win.

I yank the door open and paste a fake smile to my face, “Erik! What are you doing here?” I try not to sound like I’m accusing him, but I think I’m failing.

“Oh, I was just in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop by to celebrate the good news,” he doesn’t wait to be invited in, instead just swooping past me into my house.

“Oh, hello,” Erik quickly sizes up, and dismisses, Gabe and Axle. “I didn’t know you had guests or whatever,” Erik waves his hand at them.

How could you? You, didn’t fucking call. I don’t speak the words, instead I smile broader. “That’s right, Gabe this is Erik. He is the leading man in the movie now, he just got the part today,” I spit out the foul tasting words.

“Oh yeah, congrats man,” Gabe extends his hand and Erik shakes it like he handed him a dirty tissue.

“Yeah, well with our history, it shouldn’t be that hard to play your lover,” Erik narrows his eyes, making him look even more like a human version of a fox than he already does. His bushy but perfectly waxed eyebrows push together as he purses, his lips like I’ve seen him do a hundred times for a selfie.

Gabe looks from Erik to me and I can see a flash of anger in his eyes. Is he jealous? Or does he just realize how much of a douche-canoe Erik is?

“Wow, they always say that people look like their pets, but you two really fit the bill, huh?” Erik jerks his head at Axle’s missing leg and then shamelessly stares at Gabe’s intricate pattern of scars.

“Erik!” I can’t believe he’d be such an asshole, I mean, even for him.

“Oh, what? Like the guy doesn’t know they both have this thing going on? Come on, Nessa, relax,” he rolls his green eyes.

“Don’t call me that,” I snap. So much for not letting him get to me.

“Yeah, it’s no big deal,” Gabe answers coolly. “I agree with him, Axle and I do look alike. I guess it’s because when you were getting seaweed wraps and Botox injections in your face, my dog and I were overseas fighting for your freedom. You’re welcome you fucking clown,” Gabe’s face twists with rage and I can see him restraining himself as his hands quake with anger. For a second I think he’s gonna haul off and punch Erik and, I’ve got to admit, that would be pretty, awesome. Instead he slings the duffel bags back over his shoulders and grabs his McDonald’s bag from the counter. “Let’s go Axle, we’ve got to get unpacked, I want to make sure we get nice and comfortable in our new home,” he calls out to the dog and the Shepherd obediently follows him out of the room.

“Wait, what? Is he living with you?” Erik’s eyebrows shoot skyward and he watches Gabe storm away.

“I think you should go, Erik,” I sigh suddenly feeling exhausted.

“Fine, I don’t have much time anyway. I just wanted to congratulate you on working with me and all that,” he can’t even hear how obnoxious he is. It truly seems to come completely natural to him.

“Yep, should be lots of fun,” I answer with no feeling at all in my voice. “I’ll see you on the set,” I usher him over to the door and practically push him through it.

“Okay, see ya,” he walks, not bothering to turn around or wave, instead he just hops back into his Ferrari and squeals his tires as he spins off.

This is going to be a long three months.

I’m not sure I’m gonna make it.

I trudge my heavy feet down the hall and into the kitchen, blearily pulling open the fridge and grabbing my unblended kale smoothie from inside. All the ingredients are already in the Nutri-bullet I just have to shove it on the base and mix it up.

Somehow, I manage to get the thing going and I close my eyes as it whirls noisily. Who gets up this early? I’ve never understood people who willingly wake up at the ass crack of dawn to start their day. It seems masochistic.

I mean, it’s six o’clock in the morning, so not exactly the ass crack since the sun is fully up and I can hear people outside, but close enough. I slam my palm on the buttons until it stops making noise and pull the cup off, flipping it over I take off the part with the blades attached to it and sniff the green, foamy drink suspiciously.

You know what else is masochistic? Kale.

Ugh.

I hate how it feels like every single calorie I consume is being counted...against me. As if everything I eat will be judged and that my self-worth is supposed to be attached to my meals, or lack of them. I know that Hollywood can be toxic for women like me, ones who have broad hips and big breasts. Girls who have a big booty that jiggles when we walk. If I felt like there was anything I wanted more than this I’d say screw this diet and forget the whole thing. But I’ve wanted to be an actress, since my mother and I watched the old Elvis Presley movies together on TV. My mother used to get lost in pretending she was the leading ladies in his films because she loved young Elvis. She would sigh and stare at the television like a schoolgirl with her first crush. I used to sit on the sofa beside her with the same look fixed on my face, but not because I had a thing for the King. I pictured myself as the same leading ladies because I imagined myself in their shoes, on set, performing for the audience and temporarily losing myself in a role. It all seemed so magical.

I manage to take a sip and convince my throat to swallow it down with some coaxing. I stare out the window blankly and do a double take as I spot Gabe and Axle out in the yard playing Frisbee. He’s certainly not struggling to wake up as he, shirtlessly, tosses a Frisbee to his dog across the lawn and Axle catches it mid-air. Holy crap.

I mean, it’s impressive that a three-legged dog can so gracefully pluck the Frisbee out of the air like that, but that’s not what has my attention. The glistening sweat trickling down over Gabe’s tattoos and tantalizingly traveling down his eight-pack abs has suddenly given me a jolt that no kale smoothie or coffee in the world could.

Holy crap.

Suddenly awake, I take a long sip of my disgusting drink and don’t even flinch this time as it wreaks havoc on my taste buds, not when I have a distraction like him in my backyard. I’m pretty sure I’ve stopped blinking, just soaking him in as he drops to the ground and quickly does an impressive amount, of push-ups in about thirty seconds. He stands back up just as Axle approaches him and pulls the red disc from his dog’s mouth, tossing it back in the air. As the dog races across the grass to catch it, Gabe drops to the ground and does a bunch of burpees.

Wow, now that’s a workout. Trying to beat his lightning quick German Shepherd before he returns with the Frisbee with his own exercises, looks exhausting. I have to fan my face with my hand just from watching.

You know, a girl could get used to this whole early bird gets the worm thing if this was her motivation. I smile as I spy on their exercise, lingering by the window in my nightie as I chug back the rest of my green morning blend like a frat boy doing a keg stand. I know I’ve got to get ready for my own cardio session. My personal trainer is probably on the way to my house right now, but convincing my feet to move from this spot, or my eyes to move from that hard body isn’t an easy sell. I peer over at the clock on my wall and groan. It’s already quarter after six and my trainer is going to be here at six-thirty. I need to get myself together. At least today it’s a fun workout and not the brutal kettlebell circuit I did last week. I’d never even heard of kettlebells before, and if I never swung those strange cannonballs with handles attached to them again, I’d die happy.

Taking one last lazy minute to enjoy my unexpected morning view, I sigh and tear myself away from the window. Time to do this. At least now I’ve got the energy to face the day and the gruelling schedule ahead of me. It’s amazing how Gabe can send a little jolt through me and get me going. It makes my mind wander to other naughty ways he could give me a jolt and get me going. Damn, I’m going to need a cold shower and I haven’t even worked out yet!

I walk around the big pool and up to the patio door, sliding it open for Axle. He waits for me to walk through it first, giving me a sign of his respect, and follows me inside. The beads of sweat covering my body are blasted by the air conditioning, making me shiver. I slide the patio door shut and head over to the kitchen, parched after my morning workout in the blazing hot California sun. In the hottest days of the summer, the weather here reminds me of my time in the desert. I swear one of the reasons I still can’t stand going to the beach is because it is just too much like walking around the endless sand in Afghanistan.

I push the thoughts from my mind, they don’t do me any good now. Besides, I know all too well the slippery slope that thinking about the war leads me down. The depths of hell have nothing on the gut-lurching flashes that leave my body frozen as they fester in my mind.

I grab a bottle of water from the fridge and pop the top, taking a long, refreshing swig. It feels good to sweat out all my anger after last night. It took me a long time to calm down enough to even shut my eyes and get some sleep after I met Vanessa’s ex.

I mean, what the hell did she ever see in that guy? I know I’ve seen his face on some posters and he’s an A-lister, but still, he’s also an asshole with a capital A. The way his smarmy lips twisted to the side when he made that crack about Axle and me, made me want to punch him until his face stayed that way, permanently.

Fuck him.

If I’m going to be stuck dealing with him, I need to learn to keep my temper under control, but there are just some people you meet who instantly know how to push your buttons and send you flying off the handle. Why is it that those people are always the ones who take so much joy in doing it too?

Guys like that are always overcompensating for something. I saw it all the time in the military, especially in the Navy SEALs basic underwater demolition. The cockiest guys with the smartest mouths and the most to prove were always the first to ring the bell. When it came down to it, they just never had what it took to join the brothers. Sure, they talked a great game, but talk doesn’t mean shit when you’re looking down the barrel of the enemy’s gun. I finish my bottle of water and shake the thoughts from my head.

It doesn’t matter.

He doesn't matter.

Move on.

I wheel around and start to head down to hit the shower when I stop dead in my tracks and stare. In the living room, Vanessa is wearing a tiny bra top and shorts that can barely keep her thick hips and full ass covered. I watch as her trainer leads her in, some kind of booty popping striptease type workout, that’s got her twerking her ass up in the air like a drunk girl in a club.

Fuck.

What I wouldn’t give to make that trainer disappear right now. I’d love to grind up behind her and let her plump ass feel how hard it makes my thick cock. Blood rushes through my shaft and my shorts tighten as I watch her hypnotic ass sway back and forth.

Axle walks over to her, drawing Vanessa’s attention and ruining my moment. She smiles at him and stands up to pet him, catching me in the act of spying on her like a pervy neighbor.

She flips her long ponytail over her shoulder and smiles, is it just me, or is she pushing out her tits? Maybe it’s just that bra top with all it’s crisscross straps accentuating her already ample rack, but her body is banging hot. As in, I want to bang it.

“Why don’t you take a picture, it lasts longer,” she puts one hand on her hip and raises an eyebrow at me.

“You know, if you could do that move again and turn it into some kind of gif that I could watch on my computer, that would be a lot more useful,” I wink at her and her cheeks blaze bright pink. What is it about her that makes me want to tease her so much? I love watching her get all shy and flustered. “Anyway, I should really hit the shower, have a good workout,” I smirk and finish making my way to the bathroom.

I run the shower, adjusting the temperature before stripping off my clothes and stepping in. As the warm water pelts my skin, I close my eyes and replay Vanessa’s ass up in the air, bouncing around wildly. I imagine walking up behind her and yanking her shorts and her soaking wet panties down over her plump behind, leaving the fabric clinging to her legs, just above her knees. I pull out my hard cock, in my mind, as I squeeze my hand around it in the shower, jerking it as I envision sliding it inside her. I bet she’s fucking tight too. I imagine her pussy squeezing around my girth like a warm hug. I support myself with one hand on the cold tile as the water splashes down my body. I stroke myself faster as I picture grabbing her hips in my hands and thrusting my cock inside her as she flattens her hands down on the floor. I fuck her faster, harder, my cock pulsing inside her as my orgasm crests. Cum spurts out, arcing across the shower door and sliding down the wall as my fantasy dissolves back into reality. I look at the evidence slipping down to the tile floor and wash my hand off under the spray of the shower.

Fuck.

If this is what it’s going to be like being her bodyguard, I’m in for a long summer with a lot of cold showers.

Axle whimpers at me as he watches the buzz and commotion continue in the living room. All day Vanessa’s house has been a revolving door letting in a parade of people who need her time in one way or another for the movie. I spread some mayonnaise on my bread in the kitchen and can hear chopped up phrases and laughter as the latest guest discusses her hair.

Grabbing a few slices of deli turkey, I layer my sandwich up on a plate, then put the food away in the fridge before I head to my room.

Honestly, I have no idea why the studio insisted that she have a bodyguard unless it’s for, some kind of an insurance thing. Who needs protection when they can never leave their house? I pad down to my room with Axle on my heels and sit on my bed. My dog knows better than to beg at my feet for crumbs, he’s too dignified for that. Instead he always lies in the furthest corner of the room and places his head on the floor flat, still watching me, still very much begging for scraps, but in the least obnoxious way possible. I always save him a good-sized chunk for his polite efforts. I’d much rather he do that, than whine at my feet drooling as I try to enjoy my food.

I lift the remote from the nightstand beside the bed and distractedly flick on the television. I don't even pay attention to the screen, but just want to listen to the background noise instead of the bursts of fake laughter erupting from the living room.

Vanessa needs a bodyguard like a prisoner in solitary confinement needs a cell guard. Except she’s not violent or in any danger. I don’t think she’s even left the house at all today. For all I know, she didn’t go anywhere yesterday either. She doesn’t even get to venture out to her own patio or enjoy her pool because her meetings with these Hollywood types overlap and run into each other all day long.

First, she had a personal trainer swing by, then someone dropped off a bunch of pre-made meals for her and picked up her empty containers, after that she was on the phone doing talk interviews, then some lady with a thick accent and horn-rimmed glasses stopped by to help her go over lines, and now she’s got a whole team of beauticians and hairdressers in with her. I couldn’t live like that, I mean, if you never get out in the world or have minutes that aren’t recordings of meetings, are you even living?

I munch on my sandwich and glance over at my dog. Him and I live pretty simple, but every day, we feel the sun on our skin and fresh air in our lungs. As fresh as the air gets in LA. anyway. I understand that this role is a huge opportunity for Vanessa and she doesn’t want to mess it up. But I’ve seen this before. Not with actresses, but business people who are on the cusp of making it. They put in all their time and effort to break into the mainstream telling themselves that the opportunity it will provide will all be worth the free time it steals from them and their families. Then, once they become the sensation they always dreamed of, they get stuck on a hamster wheel of working twice as hard as they did to make it, just to stay relevant.

There’s no escape.

They become locked in a prison of their own success.

I finish inhaling the bulk of my turkey sandwich and whistle to Axle. He stands up excitedly and wiggles his little nub at me as I toss him the part I saved. Axle catches the generous portion and he doesn’t even chew it, just swallows the remains of my sandwich whole. That’s one way to do it.

“Alright bud, let’s go take this into the kitchen,” I lift up my plate and slide off the bed. “It’s not our house, so we don’t want stacks of dirty dishes in here,” I head back out into the open concept space and am jarred by the silence. It’s been hours since the house has been this quiet. Has everyone finally gone home for the day? I put my plate in the dishwasher and tilt my head, listening carefully. No, wait, I do hear something.

Crying.

Ah, shit. I walk down the hall and can hear the muffled sobs inside Vanessa’s bedroom. She sounds like she’s bawling. I don’t know what to do. See if she’s okay? Pretend I didn’t hear anything? I hate when women cry. And I don’t mean those manipulative, fake tears when they want to win an argument. But that heart-wrenching cry that comes from real sadness, it’s impossible to ignore.

I walk down the hall and lightly tap my knuckles on Vanessa’s door and I hear her startle inside.

“Y-yes?” she sniffles.

“Vanessa, is everything okay?” I know it’s none of my business, but I can’t help myself.

“It’s f-fine,” she lies. “No it’s not,” she wails and I open her door, against my better judgement.

Flopped out on her bed with her face buried in her pillow, Vanessa’s shoulders shake as she sobs.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Concern tinges my voice as I stand in her doorway, cautious to cross the invisible line drawn across her floor. Once I cross that line, things feel like they could change, and I don’t think she wants that.

Especially not right now.

“I look ugly,” she sits up and I shake my head in disbelief.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Then I see it. They cut off all her hair. Well, not all of it. But what used to flow down her back in light brown waves is now cut blunt around her chin and dyed dark. It’s severe against her milky skin. Of course, her puffy red eyes are not helping.

“They cut it, they said my character needed a powerful look. And I let them chop it all off. I know it’s stupid to cry about my fucking hair, but it just feels like everything is getting fucked up. This was supposed to be my opportunity. This movie was supposed to be for me. Now fucking Erik is my leading man, they chopped off my hair and I have to lose fifteen pounds. I’m just starting to feel like this was all a huge mistake,” she sniffles.

“Can I come in?”

Her chin trembles and fat tears slide down her cheeks as she nods. Axle and I walk into her bedroom, it’s huge, probably the size of the entire first floor in my rental. But all this space doesn’t make her happy and all these walls, as pretty and decorated as they might be, still trap her inside.

I sit down on the edge of her bed and look into her red-rimmed eyes, gently putting my hand on her shoulder, “Vanessa, it’s a haircut. It didn’t transform you into a fucking troll or something. You’re still stunning, trust me,” I look into her light brown eyes and she looks away.

“You don’t have to say that,” she sniffles.

“You’re right, I don’t. And I’m not the kind of guy who just says stuff to be nice, okay? Not my style. I know that the Erik thing sucks, I mean, that guy is a fucking douche, but I think you still want to do this don’t you?”

Part of me, even though it would mean the end of this job and possibly my time with her, wishes she would say ‘no.’ That she doesn’t want to sacrifice her life and her happiness to make it in Hollywood. That she doesn’t want to starve her perfect body or work with a man she clearly can’t stand.

“Yeah, I do,” my heart sinks but I don’t show it on my face.

“Look, you could shave your hair right off and you’d be beautiful. Hell, you could melt a pot of crayons into a waxy wig and wear that around, guess what, you’d still be beautiful.”

She laughs and I smile. “Thanks,” she looks up at me.

“It’s the truth. Now, you know what you need?”

“What’s that?” She wipes away her tears with her fingertips and runs her hand over her new haircut self-consciously.

“You need to get out of here. You need to go blow off some steam, feel sexy and have some fun.”

“Oh, no,” she shakes her head violently, “I know what you’re thinking and I can’t go back to that club. Can you even go back there after that scene?” She looks up at me.

“There’s more than one club in the city, Vanessa,” she still shakes her head at me in protest.

“I can’t. I don't fit in there,” she whispers, but her protest is unconvincing.

“Listen, remember what I said when I took this job? We play by my rules, right?” I’m not asking for her permission, and she knows it. “You will have some fun, no one will recognize you and you might even learn a thing or two for your character,” I stand up and head back to her door, “get ready to go, I’m taking you out tonight.”

She doesn’t argue, instead she gets out of bed and takes a deep breath, “Okay,” she agrees, “give me an hour to get ready.”

Our Uber driver pulls down the familiar road of boring nondescript buildings and stops at the address. Vanessa looks at the condo lurching up into the sky and the uniformed man at the door.

“Why are we stopping here?”

“This is it,” I nod at the glass building.

“That’s not a club,” she protests but I give her a stern look and she purses her lips together tight.

“You’ll see, let’s go,” I open the car door for her and slide out, holding out my hand to help her onto the curb.

Tonight, there won’t be any paparazzi flashing pictures of me in my tighty-whities. They don’t even know about this place. The woman who owns this place has converted her three-floor penthouse into one of the most exclusive and secretive sex clubs in the city. Only the who’s who of the scene are invited to play here.

The doorman swings open the grand glass door and we walk through the marble lobby over to the front desk. Vanessa’s heels clatter against the floor as we approach, reminding me of the hollow echoes that bounce off the rundown house I’ve left empty for the summer. If the woman who brought me into this world had any idea of how I really lived, I never would have been allowed to come here.

Lucky for me, I clean up well. And I have a way of distracting people’s attention from boring small talk about where we live when I’m half-naked.

I recognize the elderly man with the pristinely side-combed head of white hair. I can see in his pale blue eyes that he remembers me too as we approach the desk.

“Good evening, how may I help you tonight?” He doesn’t give away that he has seen me here before, many times, or that he knows full well what happens at the top levels of this building. Discretion at every level is key to keeping a secret club like this one going, and so far, it’s worked.

“I’ve brought some rhinestones and chardonnay for Ms. Jillian,” I utter the familiar nonsense phrase that will get me inside. The clerk nods and leans under his oversized, semi-circle counter to grab something. He holds up two small bags and slides them across the desk. Vanessa watches the whole scene closely, like she’s studying what we’re doing without fully understanding it.

The man places a keycard on top of one of the bags and nods over to the elevator across the lobby that leads straight to the penthouse. “I believe you will find everything you need there,” he gives me a half-cocked smile. I grab the bags and the card, extending my arm for Vanessa, which she wraps her hands around a little uncertainly, and I lead the way to the elevator.

“What did you say about rhinestones and wine?” she whispers as her heels sharply clack against the polished floor with every step.

“Don’t worry about it,” I answer nonchalantly and swipe the keycard down the number pad at the side of the mirrored elevator doors, casually punching in the digits I know will make the doors slide open.

“Why are you being so secretive all of a sudden,” she pouts. The doors slide open and I lead her inside, waiting until they’ve closed behind us to hold up the bags. I reach inside each one and pull out our masks.

“What are those for?”

“You need to wear them at this place. That last club you went to was like amateur night at a karaoke bar, everyone knows about it and it’s not hard to get on stage, but where I’m taking you tonight is an invite only, discreet club. Everyone needs to wear their mask,” I hold hers out to her, the teal blue material shimmers under the elevator lights.

“Oh my God, is this like a real ‘Eyes Wide Shut’ kinda thing?” She blinks at the mask in disbelief. A shudder runs through her as she looks at the mask in fear. I can’t blame her, there were some cultish and frightening parts in that movie.

“No, nothing like that other than it’s exclusive and we wear masks. No one is going to be selecting you or taking you anywhere. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. We can just have a drink or two and leave, if you want,” I explain and I can see the fear in her subside.

“Oh, okay then,” she giggles nervously and takes the mask from my hand.

I fit my black one over my head and look over at her. The teal surrounding her mask makes her lashes look longer and her large brown eyes pop. Vanessa, is absolutely, stunning tonight.

“You ready?” I nod to the one button just inside the elevator door that will take us to the top of this building when I press it.

“I guess so,” she sounds so nervous.

I turn into her and grab her hands, holding them against my chest, “Listen, the great thing about this place is no one knows who you are. Paparazzi won’t find you here. You’re completely safe here, especially with me. Once you’re wearing these masks, you can be whoever you want to be. It’s probably the same when you’re acting, right?”

“Yeah, I can see that,” she looks up at me and leans into me more, pushing away the space between us.

“So, why don’t you just relax and enjoy the scene,” I let her hands go and turn away from her, hitting the button.

The elevator begins to rise, up. When I look back at her, Vanessa looks a little disappointed, like she was expecting something I didn’t give her. I step back into her, pushing her back against the wall as I hold her there with my hips and she gasps, but doesn’t protest.

“When you’re here, with me, you can live out whatever your deepest fantasies are. When you’re wearing this mask, you can just let it all go,” I tuck a loose strand of her hair behind her ear and she looks up at me. I can see the desire blazing in her light brown eyes and there’s a fire raging behind them. So why does she fight it? I slowly let my fingers travel over her jaw and down the side of her neck, hovering over her closer and closer until my mouth is almost on hers.

“What’s your deepest fantasy?” she whispers, but doesn’t shy away from my eyes.

I grind my cock into her and she moans softly, melting against me like her legs can’t support her anymore. I cover her soft lips with mine, kissing her urgently as my fingers dive up into her hair, tangling in her locks as I grab a fist full of it and yank her head back under control. I bite her lip and she gasps, her hands bunch up the fabric of my shirt, like she wants to tear it off.

As the elevator slows, I step back and look down at her face, her lips are swollen and begging for more without ever saying a word. “My deepest fantasy is you,” I murmur just as the door slides open behind me.

Vanessa opens her mouth but doesn’t have a chance to say anything, I grab her hand and lead her down the hall with a wall of what appears to be safety deposit boxes at the end. Before she can second guess all of this, I lead her to the wall and open one of the unlocked boxes. “This is where we leave our clothes, phones, all that stuff,” I explain, tearing off my shirt and folding it neatly before I lay it inside.

“What am I supposed to wear,” pink flushes her cheeks as I unbutton my pants and kick off my shoes.

“Whatever you wore underneath is fine,” I answer breezily.

As I place all my belongings inside, Vanessa turns around, “Can you help me with the zipper?” I can hear the nerves fluttering inside her as her voice cracks a little.

“Of course,” I slowly pull the gold tab down until the back of her dress falls open, watching shamelessly as she peels it down her body, revealing a sexy black bra and matching panties made from expensive lace.

I run my fingers over her soft shoulder and down her arm until I reach her hand, holding her steady as she steps out of the pool of fabric at her feet. She bends over at the waist and a groan escapes my lips as she teases me with her beautiful, plump ass. Plucking her dress from the ground, she folds it over and places it on top of my things in the box. I close the door, locking our belongings inside.

“Ready?” I slide my arm over the small of her back and lead her to the penthouse door.

She takes a deep breath and slides into me a little closer, “Ready.”

Gabe saunters easily into the room like he owns the place. His tight, revealing underwear are navy blue this time, but every bit as scandalous as the pair I accidentally spilled my drink on the first night I met him. The thin fabric clings to his cock, curving around every ridge and hugging every inch. I want to slide my hand down his perfectly defined abs and wrap it around him. He’s so thick and he’s not even hard. I know if I circled my finger and thumb around his girth they wouldn’t even touch together on the other side.

My nipples grow hard and a flush of heat surges through me at just the thought. My hands are not the only things I want to wrap around him. I want to slide my lips over him and feel him fill my mouth. I want to wrap my legs around his waist and let him stretch me out, fucking me with raw, primal need.

I squeeze my thighs as my pussy clenches and grows slick with desire. The way Gabe makes my body react is new to me. Part of my problem with not being able to cum is I find it hard to get turned on. I mean, I’ve had plenty of sexy thoughts and imagined every dirty thing I could think of with minimal results. Nothing like the surge of wetness I feel in my center now.

Gabe leads the way through the penthouse, slicing past the crowd like he knows the layout intimately. He probably does. He’s probably been intimate in this place more times than he can count. Jealously splashes over me like a cold shower, sending an icy anger through my veins that I don’t really deserve to own. He wasn’t in my life then. Hell, it’s not like I have any say in what he does now. We’re not together.

But what about that kiss? What about the way he makes you feel? You know it means more.

My thoughts are interrupted as my eyes soak in the dark, sultry suite. I follow Gabe slowly, entranced by the writhing, hot bodies bathing in pleasure all around me. In the middle of the floor is a naked woman with four men propping her up as she’s licked and touched by all of them. There are two burly men whose faces are buried in her tits as they each suckle and flicker their tongues over one nipple each. She’s standing tall, her legs open wide as another two men dart their tongues over her most sensitive parts, one eating her out as he fingers her pussy the other keeps alternating between licking and fingering her asshole. All four men are attending to her, eight hands on her body, four tongues, every man working toward one goal, her orgasm. I can only imagine how overwhelmed she must be by the sensations. I almost feel dizzy just thinking about it.

“This way,” Gabe gently tugs my hand and I didn’t even realize I had stopped walking. That I’m just standing here staring at the mesmerizing scene. I manage to move, even though my feet feel heavy and I follow him to a set of stairs leading to a loft above. “Up here, we will have a drink and you can watch as much as you want,” he smirks. Luckily, it’s too dark in here for him to see me blush.

We walk up the stairs and find some seats at a small table by the railing, overlooking the entire floor below. Gabe tucks my chair in for me and tells me he’ll be back with some drinks. I just nod silently as my eyes slide over the unfolding scene. Near the back of the room and below, I can see a man who has three women bent over a table. He has their panties pulled down just enough to expose their pussies. Each of them is standing bent over at the waist, their upper bodies pressed flat into the hardwood. He stands behind one of them and grabs a handful of her ass, harshly twisting it in his palm before giving her a firm slap. She writhes under his touch, but the music in here is too loud to know if she’s crying out in pain or pleasure. He moves to the next girl and slides his dick inside her, pumping into her a couple of times before pulling out and smacking the next girl’s ass mercilessly.

It feels so strange to be able to watch people in their most intimate moments like this, yet I can’t look away. There’s something almost hypnotic about the exchange of power here. Between the people fucking each other, the people watching, and the people putting on a show.

“Here you go,” Gabe slides a glass of bubbly across the table to me and sits down with his rum and Coke. “What do you think so far, Vanessa?” He pulls his chair over to sit closer to my side and I lean into him a little.

“It’s intense,” I admit, watching the orgy below.

“I think you like it,” he muses, watching me as he takes a slow sip of his drink. “I think you put on a good act, but you’re not really a good girl at all. I think you’ve got a dirty side that’s just begging to come out and play,” he softly grazes his fingers down my cheek and I, gaze into his blue eyes.

“I think you’re right,” my throat is tight as I let my confession slip out.

“So the question is,” he leans in and sucks my earlobe in over his lip, inside the heat of his mouth. “What are you going to do about it?”

Vanessa’s lips pulls down in the corners and sadness rolls in over her eyes as she lifts her glass of champagne and takes a drink.

“Nothing,” she finally answers flatly, looking down at the table.

It’s hard to see behind her mask, but it looks like tears are forming in her eyes. She runs her hand over her new haircut and sighs.

“Are you worried about your new look again?” I drape my arm over her shoulders and pull her into me. “Listen to me, you are beautiful. I know it, every person in here knows it, you should know it too,” I gently scold her. “Every guy in here wishes he could trade places with me right now, trust me.”

“I don’t know about that,” she smiles and nods her head down to the floor below us where two women are taking turns sucking some guy’s cock. “I’m pretty sure most of the guys in here want to trade with him,” she laughs.

At least she’s laughing.

“I wouldn’t, the only woman I see in here is you.” I put my finger and thumb on her chin and turn her face to mine, “I mean that.”

Vanessa looks down at her glass, like she’s studying the small bubbles that slowly slink up to the surface and explode in tiny little pops. “It’s not my hair that’s bothering me, I mean, it does, but it’s just like the straw that broke the camel’s back,” she explains.

I silently take another drink, giving her time to collect her thoughts. It’s not hard to see something is weighing heavily on her mind. She runs her glossy nails over the back of her hand and her eyes flicker up to mine, searching for something, but I don’t know what.

“This movie just isn’t panning out how I expected, I guess,” she confides.

“Because of Erik? Were you two serious?” I almost choke on my words. The idea of them being together flames the embers of anger I still have in my gut after the first impression he made yesterday. I can’t imagine what she ever saw in him.

“I thought so, but I was wrong. He dumped me right before the Oscars for another actress he cheated on me with,” she rolls her eyes. “I honestly can’t stand being near him, so it’s just thrown an ugly monkey wrench in my plans for this part. I mean, I hate him, but he’s supposed to be my love interest? And how am I supposed to act like he’s so sexy and irresistible that he makes my character go from needing anonymous sex with any man she can get, to being satisfied with only him. Fuck, he wouldn’t know how to make a woman cum if his stupid Oscar depended on it,” she laughs dryly.

“Wait, so he never did it for you?” I can’t help the undeniable joy that fact brings me. It still doesn’t completely wipe out my feelings about them being together, but it helps somehow.

“No, no he didn’t. I mean, but that’s not his fault I guess,” she tucks her hair behind her ear and bites her lip. Vanessa’s eyebrows shoot up as worry etches into her face.

“What’s wrong?” I slide my hand over her soft hair, wishing I could ease the pain and sadness I can see swirling behind her eyes.

“It’s just, well, fuck this is really embarrassing. But, the reason I originally took this part, I mean, the reason I ran into you at the sex club that night was because I wanted to do research on what it looks like to really get into it, you know?” She looks at me pointedly, but I’m not understanding the words she’s dancing around.

“You wanted to understand the mind of a nympho?”

Vanessa shakes her head and lifts her glass, emptying the rest of her champagne in one gulp. Her breasts heave up as she sighs deeply, and I get lost in her exposed curves for a moment before I remind myself to focus. She’s obviously trying to say something that’s important to her.

“Not exactly,” she slowly speaks, as if she’s choosing each word from a list. Carefully selecting the perfect sentences. “I wanted to see what it looked like for women to really enjoy themselves, you know? Like the way they looked when they had an orgasm. Not just the actual cumming part, but the part that leads up to it. I wanted to understand what I’ve been missing,” she breathes out like she’s been holding her breath for a year, her shoulders rounding as she deflates.

“Are you saying no one has ever made you cum?” I try to piece together her thoughts. Vanessa puts her head in her hands and nods, barely moving her head.

“No one. Never. I’ve just, I’ve never had an orgasm. Ever.” Each word seems to beat her down, like her admission is defeating her.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” I run my hand over her back and she looks up at me. “That just means you haven’t met the right person.” I lift my glass to my lips and this time, I don’t try to hide the fact that I’m drinking in her body, I take my time as I let my eyes travel over her. “I’ll tell you what, you come down to the floor with me and I’ll make you cum. Right here, right now,” I drag my fingertips down her spine.

Vanessa’s eyes grow wide, but the way she bites her lip and looks me over tells me she’s interested.

“Get up,” I stand up and tug her hand until she’s standing next to me. “I’m going to show you what you’ve been missing,” I promise her as I lead her back over to the stairs. “I’m going to make you cum so hard you’re going to wonder how you ever lived this long without it.”

She doesn’t argue or even try to slink behind me. I can see the uncertainty in her face, but her body is telling me it’s ready. She wants this. She needs this. And I’m going to give it to her.

I clutch onto Gabe’s hand as he leads me down the stairs and a million second thoughts light up in my brain like stars in a clear sky in autumn. I swear my heart is racing so fast that I can feel its rhythmic beat in my fingertips.

I shouldn’t do this. Not with him. Not here. It won’t work anyway. It’s not like Gabe has some kind of ‘magic dick,’ that’s going to fix whatever is broken inside me. All these thoughts bombard me at the same time. And none of them stop my feet. None of them keep me from following Gabe even as we reach the bottom step and he walks me through a crowd of people fucking in every way imaginable, leading me to the far side of the room, with a cocky swagger.

I want him.

I want this.

I push the nerves down, trying to trap the butterflies that are flurrying around in my stomach. I swallow hard, trying to coat my dry throat and breathe in sharply when Gabe suddenly stops, turns around and pulls me into him so tight I can feel his bulge press into me.

“Oh!”

It’s all I have a chance to say before his fingers snake up my back and he unclasps my bra with one hand. The straps slip from my shoulders and I gasp as he quickly yanks the fabric free from my body and tosses it next to the wall. Instinctively I press my hands over my breasts, suddenly feeling very shy and like this is very real.

This isn’t a twisted fantasy or a game, I scan the room self-consciously and wonder how many people in the dimly lit loft are watching us. I gaze over the mostly naked bodies all around us, of all ages, ethnicities and shapes, the one string connecting them is their sexuality. I hold my tits tight, my heart pounding in my chest and realize I’ve just agreed to be one of them. To join the disjointed orgy of couples and groups fucking in this place. I look to the couch a few feet away and am not surprised to see an older man, a silver fox with a head full of white hair and tight muscles sitting down, leaning back while a much younger woman blows him. I try not to stare, but I gasp with shock when I look to my left and see an older woman who could be that silver fox’s wife on her hands and knees being taken on both ends by two much younger men.

“Why are you hiding from me?” Gabe steps toward me and I can see the glint of hunger in his eyes, like a wolf on the prowl for it’s prey.

“I, uh, I’m not,” I still don’t drop my hands. The only thing keeping them from shaking is the fact that I’ve got them clamped over my exposed breasts.

“Have you changed your mind?” Gabe tilts his head and his blue eyes study my face.

I look around the room one more time, biting my lip. It’s crazy and it’s foreign but it’s also incredibly sexy, to see all of these people indulging in a type of pleasure I’ve always craved, but never experienced. I turn my face back to Gabe, leveling him with my eyes. “No. I haven’t changed my mind,” I utter bravely.

His full lips twitch up in the corner and he narrows his eyes. “Good,” he swoops in at me, grabbing my hands securely in just one of his and walks me backward until I hit the wall. He holds my hands tightly in his, up over my head, leaving my body completely at his disposal. I breathe in sharply over my teeth. What is he going to do to me? My pussy floods with desires I’ve never felt before, and all the possibilities.

“Relax,” Gabe leans into my ear and speaks softly so I can just hear him over the rattling bass of the club. “We can stop anytime. This is all about you,” he reassures me and I begin to calm down a little until he wrenches my hands up tighter and steps between my feet, forcing me to open mine, on either side of him.

“I’m a little nervous,” I admit.

“Don’t be,” he brushes it off. “I haven’t laid a hand on you. I don’t need to, sex isn’t about your body it’s about your mind. It’s about your fantasies, it’s about the build-up,” he hovers his hand down over my collarbone and glides his fingers over my skin closely, so I can feel the heat of his hand, but he doesn’t touch me.

As his fingers draw closer to my tits, my nipples grow taut, transforming into tiny pink diamonds. “Do you feel that? The electricity between us? What does that do to you? What does it make you want to do?” He leans in and sucks my earlobe in past his lips, flickering his tongue over it quickly as his hand still travels over my body without touching me.

My eyelids flutter closed as the buzz inside me grows stronger. Tiny currents seem to travel under my skin, like a summer lightning storm, the heat builds and then explodes down through me, running over me in a jagged path from my earlobe down to my aching pussy.

“It makes me want you,” I manage to confess. “I want you to fuck me,” my voice is wheezy with need. I’ve never felt anything like this before, this overpowering pull to be with him. This all-consuming craving for his touch.

“Good girl,” he smirks, his hands tighten around mine and he jerks them up high on the wall making me arch my back and push my tits out further toward him. “When you surrender your mind, when you give in to your true desires, then something as simple as this,” he leans over me, his mouth surrounds my nipple and I can’t help the moan that escapes my lips. My nipple puckers tight as he licks it and my pussy grows slick with need.

“Ohhh!” I cry out.

“Feels almost orgasmic,” he pulls away his head and smiles as he stands tall over me. “And something like this will make you cum, if I let you,” he releases my wrists and slides down to his knees in front of me, his breath billowing onto my pussy as he tugs my panties down my thighs. They are completely soaked and he looks happy with himself as he notices the evidence of my desire.

I press my hands flat against the cool wall behind me and quickly look around as Gabe slips his tongue inside my pussy. I glance up at the balcony, between the mask and the darkness I can’t really tell who might be watching, but as Gabe’s tongue tastes my juices, I realize I don’t care. Let them watch. Shivers of pleasure run up my body and my skin covers in gooseflesh as Gabe licks my clit, slowly and under control as he slides his fingers inside me.

I’m surprised how heightened this all feels. I’ve been with other men and no one has even come close to getting me this worked up. As he twists his fingers inside me and presses them against my inner wall, I feel my control slip away.

I thread my fingers through Gabe’s brown hair and get lost in the sensation building up inside me. I feel like a rose about to bloom, the petals stir, pushing out, as the bud is ready to explode into a beautiful flower. I grind my hips, pushing my pussy into Gabe’s face as I feel myself get closer and closer to a bliss I’ve never experienced. My muscles clench and I stand up on my tip-toes, arching my back and rolling my head against the wall as it builds even more.

I’m almost there! I can’t believe it, but I don’t want to think about it. I want to get lost in the moment. I want to live it. To fully feel everything.

Then he stops.

He, fucking stops.

“No!” I yell, my voice hoarse and my throat dry.

He stands up as I shake my head violently from side to side. This isn’t fair. He can’t just stop.

“I’m going to make sure your first orgasm is on my cock, Vanessa.” I can see the flames of need behind his eyes and he reaches around my legs, lifting me easily from the floor. His fingers slide down over my ass and dig into my skin, he tugs his underwear down with one hand and guides his cock to my entrance, “You ready?” He looks in my eyes and I nod.

Gabe thrusts his cock inside me and I try to wrap my legs around him, but he just pushes it in further until I’m completely pinned against the wall with his cock locking me in place. I feel so full, it’s almost painful. If I wasn’t so wet, there’s no way I’d be able to take him like this. He gives me a second to adjust to his girth before he grips my thighs on the inside tightly, and wrenches my legs open, spreading them wide until each one is pressed against the wall. My pussy is completely exposed to him as he buries his cock deep into my core, further inside than I’ve ever experienced before.

“Oh fuck!” I cry out and twist against the wall as the sensation overcomes me again. It’s more focused this time. More powerful.

“That’s right, give in to it,” he growls in my ear and begins thrusting his hips faster. His shaft filling me fuller than I’ve ever known I could feel, with every pump. My legs quiver as he holds them flush to the wall, I grip onto his broad shoulders tight and let my fingernails dig into his skin as he fucks me harder. His cock is so thick, I can feel it grind against my clit each time he pulls back and slams it back inside me. The world around us begins to blot out, growing blurry as I struggle to breathe. My pussy tightens down on him, clamping around his cock as a shuddering earthquake of hot ecstasy shatters through me, from my center and out through my entire body. I can’t help the screams of pleasure that escape my lips. I don’t care about how raw my throat feels or how many people are staring. In this moment, all I can focus on is the completely overwhelming sensation.

Gabe’s cock pulses inside me as his thrusts grow ragged. He buries himself to the hilt and I can feel his cum fill me as he takes raspy breaths and holds me tight. He let’s my legs go and my feet feel numb when they hit the floor. Gabe pulls out of me, beads of sweat scatter across his forehead and he wraps his hand around my head and pulls me in for a surprisingly tender kiss.

Suddenly, all my emotions seem to burst through the dam at once. I look around the club as I struggle to breathe, I’ve never felt so vulnerable, so exposed, and yet so free. It’s as if every negative emotion I’ve ever felt just bubbled to the surface and then evaporated from my skin, leaving me lighter. Leaving me … happy.

Tears streak my cheeks as I sob. Not from sadness but from understanding for the first time, what it feels like to be free. Free from self-doubt, anger, depression, anxiety and fear. Free in my own skin, in my own body, in my own mind.

Free.

“What's wrong?” Gabe looks down at me as I start to breakdown. I can’t explain this. I notice people around us start to look over and I begin to choke on my tears. I can’t control the explosion of feelings inside me. I don’t answer him. I need to get out of here. I need to go.

I grab my bra from the floor and yank my panties back up my legs, stumbling toward the door. Gabe pulls his underwear back up and follows me, concern etched over his face. I can’t stop the sobbing, now my shoulders are shaking as it takes over me.

I need to leave.

Now.

I pace the floor like I’m trying to form a groove in it as Axle watches me. I still don’t know why Vanessa started crying last night. That wasn’t exactly the reaction I was going for. I mean, I got that too. I know she came, but then the explosion of waterworks stole my moment of pride and replaced it with worry.

Did I hurt her?

Does she regret it?

Why was she crying?

She, wouldn’t look at me on the drive home, instead sniffling as she watched the buildings transform into a streak of light outside the car window. When I asked her if she was okay, she just clammed up saying she was tired. As soon as we got home she disappeared into her bedroom for the night and I paced the floor.

Axle tilts his head as if he’s asking me what I’m doing.

“I dunno, bud. I’m not sure what the hell is going on. I may have screwed the pooch on this one,” I look up at his furry face. “sorry, it’s just an expression,” I laugh at the perplexed look on his face.

All morning Vanessa’s house has been filled with all kinds of Hollywood goons who need her for one reason or another. It hasn’t exactly left any time for her and I to talk about what happened. I can hear her in the other room saying goodbye to the latest crowd as they shuffle out the door.

“Gabe?” she yells down the hall.

“Yeah?” I call out my bedroom door.

“I’ve got to get to the studio, are you ready to go?”

I look at Axle, his mournful eyes seem to tell me what my gut already knows. Vanessa never just bellows to me from the other room, she’s always tracked me down and talked to me when she needs anything. She’s avoiding me.

“Yep, we’re good to go,” I push the thought from my mind and nod toward the door. “Come on boy,” I talk to Axle, “let’s get this show on the road.”

He, hops up spryly, happy to do something besides watch me try to pace the finish off the hardwood floor. He quickly prances down the hallway in front of me, wagging his little nub at Vanessa and rushing over to her. For the first time since last night, she smiles. It’s at my dog, but at least I know she’s not somehow shattered by what we shared.

“The driver is waiting for us. I’m all set if you are?” Vanessa doesn’t look at me as she talks. For all I know she could be talking to my dog.

“We’re ready,” I nod curtly.

We silently leave the house and all three of us pile into the back of the town car. Axle immediately lies on the floor at our feet being as unobtrusive as possible. As soon as we slam the car doors shut, the driver heads off toward the studio. I know he can hear us, we don’t have any kind of privacy screen between us and him, but I still need to find out what’s going on with Vanessa.

“Hey, so, are you okay?” I rub my hand over my scruffy chin. I forgot to shave this morning, that’s how distracted this whole thing has me.

“Yeah, totally,” she answers breezily as she rummages through her purse.

“Are you sure, cause last night…”

“I’m sorry, but I’ve got to check in with Fiona before we get to the studio,” she plucks her phone from her purse and hits her agent’s number before I have a chance to say another word.

Okay then. So much for that.

I stare out into the Los Angeles landscape, sun-bleached and worn down. It’s suiting that this place looks like this. I think a lot of people come here full of hope and big dreams about making it in this city, but just like the sun streaked buildings with crumbling foundations, they get worn down and burned out. I half listen as Vanessa mostly mutters a series of “uh-huhs” and “okays.” It certainly doesn’t sound like an urgent call she needed to make. But I guess she thought it was better than talking to me.

What the fuck did I do? Did I fuck up this thing before we even got a real chance with it? I haven’t felt anything for a woman since, well, not since the last one I loved broke my heart. I swore off losing control. I swore off letting my feelings cloud my judgement. Now I finally meet someone who makes me second guess all of that, and I’ve ruined it. The worst part is, I have no idea how.

The car pulls into the security gate and he flashes his card at the guard. In seconds, we’re on the lot. I open the car door and Axle and I step outside into the blinding sunlight. For a second, less than that, the high sun blots out the building and it feels like I’m in the desert again. The moment is fleeting, but it’s enough to make me feel sick to my stomach. I take a deep, shaky breath and push the vision of Afghanistan as far from my mind as I can.

Vanessa walks up beside me and leads the way through the maze of chaos inside the studio doors. There are tons of people, all of them buzzing like bees in a hive, some setting up lights, some holding makeup bags that look like suitcases, some setting up a long table of snacks and drinks, all of them looking like they think they are very important.

I scope out the exits, soak in the scene from right to left, looking for menacing faces or things out of place. I know my job as Vanessa’s security detail isn’t really necessary, but it’s more a force of habit than anything. Axle seems to be on the same page as me, his nose is to the ground like he’s sniffing out a bomb. Maybe we both need to learn to relax a little. Suddenly Axle’s ears shoot forward and he gives a deep, faint growl. I look up at what he’s spotted and don’t disagree with his assessment as I see Erik heading over to us.

“Vanessa! Got the first day jitters? Don’t, you’re going to do fine,” Erik rambles without letting her respond. It gives me satisfaction when I see her roll her eyes at him. I stand back and try to stay out of the banter.

“Hey Erik,” her voice is lifeless.

“So, I know it’s not even nine yet and I’m talking about drinks, but after we wrap today a few of us are going to grab some cocktails at Hemingway’s Lounge, you interested?” He doesn’t look at her when he asks, instead frowning at some dust on his shoe.

“No, I don’t think …”

“Here, can you hold this?” He thrusts his fancy latte in my hand and cuts Vanessa off as he leans over and rubs his hand over the scuff on his toe. I want to toss the stupid foamy drink at his head, but force myself to breathe and let it go. Vanessa is already acting weird around me, I don’t think fucking things up for her on set will win me any favors.

Axle gives a low growl and Erik pops up straight looking down at him. “He’s friendly isn’t he?” His voice gives away his fear and I smirk a little at what a baby he is.

“Yeah, he’s trained,” I answer.