Dirty Boy (16 page)

“I’m doing what I have to do to save you. Now, you do what needs doing.”

“Save me from what?” Story cried.

“Jail,” she answered after a moment.

“Max never mentioned jail, so you’re lying. You’re doing this…Mom…I don’t know why you’re doing this,” Story gulped on a big sob. “Just don’t. If you go through with this lie, I’ll never forgive you.”

“Trust me when I say this is for the best, Story,” Babs said in a high-pitched tone.

She almost didn’t recognize her mother. No. No almost. She
didn’t
know this woman.

“Story, hang up the fucking phone,” Max ordered. “This is doing nothing but further exhibiting your guilt.”

“What do you want from me?” Story shouted, not sure who she spoke to. Her mom or Max.

“I want you to honor your agreement and then get on with your life. In whatever circumstances you may be in in three months,” Babs explained. “Now, is there anything else? I’ve more than met my quota of speaking to you today. Make it easy on everyone and confess to Max.”

Before Story formed one word to respond, Babs hung up. Story sat in stunned silence, holding the phone to her ear, unable to comprehend what had taken place. Wetness burned her cheeks, mocking each and every time she’d ever made excuses for her mom.

“Stop with the fucking phony tears. They don’t work on me.”

Swiping away the tears tracking her cheeks, Story tried and failed to think of a response to Max. No longer sitting, he stood, the broadness of his shoulders shrinking the space. She knew the hardness and strength of his body from when he’d pressed into her during their sex.

“I knew you were just like
her
,” he snarled. “A lying, manipulative bitch out to make a fucking fool out of me.” He ground his jaw together. “Out of all of us,” he corrected, as if he spoke of someone else, and not her mother. “I should have you fucking arrested and the fucking key thrown away.”

Her mom’s lies coupled with Max’s anger and proximity overwhelmed her. No words to defend herself came to her. Nothing except, “I’m innocent. I swear.”

“Do you know why I called your mother?” he asked in a soft, deadly voice that made Story flinch.

Sitting on the bed, she shook her head.

He crouched in front of her and offered her a stare devoid of emotion. Warmth.
Feeling
. It was as if he were a hollow shell disguised as a man. “I felt remorse. Me! Do you know the last time I had that feeling?” The hatred washing over his face sent shivers through her. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter. I wanted a reason to help you out of this situation. Away from me. It was simple. Innocent, you leave courtesy of me and live the rest of your life in whatever way you saw fit. Guilty, you stay and face my wrath. Go to jail, if you don’t do everything I demand of you.”

Despite the threat, he sounded desolate and disillusioned, as if he’d counted on her innocence. In a world that had gone mad, Story acted without thinking. She reached out and laid her palm against his jaw.

“Max,” she whispered. “Today proved a lot for me, but the bed I made is my own. That’s why I came to this room when we got home. To give myself a good talking to. I reminded myself that I’m at a bumpy road in my life and I needed to play the cards handed to me to get to smoother sailing. If that meant watching you with other women, listening to my body being discussed like a commodity, then so be it. I wouldn’t always be in this situation. But, I swear to you, I wasn’t trying to make you feel guilty or remorseful. And I definitely wasn’t trying to play you, which is what I would be doing if I lied to you about that money.”

Lips thinned in a tight line, he rose to his feet. “Save your words because I don’t believe you.” He headed to the door where he paused. “This is the way things will go from now on. Unless you want to be thrown in jail, you’re at my mercy. Fuck your tuition. Fuck the contract. Fuck
everything
but what I tell you to do. You’ve gotten enough fucking money and consideration from me. And if you run,” he added as the thought of fleeing crossed Story’s mind, “I’ll have your mother arrested so goddamn fast, she won’t know what hit her.”

With that, he slammed the door behind him, leaving Story alone. In more ways than one.

Boredom was one thing Story hadn’t counted on during the filming. But, the next morning, the monotony of a movie set almost brought her to tears. To amuse herself, she considered the lighting that needed to be just right, the various positions of the microphones, and the required volume of their sex sounds during the act.

She stood near Eric, fidgeting as the cameramen positioned themselves. Flipping through the script, Eric went out of his way to ignore her.

As everyone had since she and Max had arrived this morning, after an uncomfortable and silent ride to the studio.

Max had been gone the entire night and Story wasn’t sure if he intended to pick her up or leave her at his condo. Either way, sleep had eluded her, so she’d brewed coffee and realized she didn’t have his cell phone number. While she’d poured herself a cup of coffee, Max walked in. His thinned lips, as he took in the scene, indicated his disapproval at her actions.

Instead of apologizing for making use of his kitchen, she’d folded her arms and dared him to say anything to her. She needn’t have worried. He was angry with her, intent on making her life miserable if she allowed him.

The opening of the door drew Story out of her thoughts. A tall, blonde girl walked in, already naked and secure in her nudity. A moment later, Max followed her and settled his hands on the girl’s shoulders. She turned, her eyes lighting up when he stepped close to her, so close her back had to be touching him. Their combined laughter floated to Story, their lust for one another palpable.

“Roll tape,” Eric called.

The pit of Story’s stomach sank. Annoyance coupled with despair.

Arms around the blonde’s waist, Max guided her to the bed. They paused at the side and she threw her head back, resting it on Max’s shoulder. Her breasts flared out and Max tugged her hard nipples. She squealed.

“Suck my dick, slut.”

Max’s voice rang loud and clear, reciting one of the lines Story recognized from the script during a scene between Will and his neighbor, Jane. There was supposed to be a different lead-in. More buildup. Two or three lines, at least.

On her knees, “Jane” licked around “Will’s” cock before sucking him.

One look at Max’s face and Story saw his complete enjoyment. He said he loved women and he hadn’t lied.

An overhead light started flickering, rescuing Story from witnessing this scene.

“Fuck!” Eric yelled. “Cut.”

But it wasn’t a rescue. Neither Max or the blonde moved. She continued sucking him off and he continued to enjoy it.

A mere moment resolved the lighting problem.

“Roll,” Eric said unnecessarily.

“Stand up,” Max ordered.

When the girl did, Max turned her so she’d face the camera and fingered her feminine lips, opening her and exposing her clit. He rubbed her and the lights seemed to make her wetness glisten. She was breathing hard and heavy, her loud moans carrying through the space.

This wasn’t acting. This was
real.
The woman wanted Max as much as he wanted her.

She strutted to the bed, her blonde hair falling all around her. Sitting down, she scooted back, throwing her legs open and massaging her clit herself.

“You wanna fuck this pussy, baby?” she asked.

Was that in the script? Story couldn’t remember, too caught up in her anger and in the scene. Too busy ignoring her unwanted arousal and her silent rage as Max leered at the blonde, stroking his cock. He climbed into the bed, aiming his dick at her pussy and sinking into her with a grunt.

“Oh, fuck, give me all your dick.”

Maybe, if Story blocked out the words, it would remove her hurt. She was so good at pretending her life was fine and that she could accept all bumps in the road. But she wasn’t okay with this. She couldn’t stand watching the pleasure on Max’s face or hearing their explicit words, some of them scripted, some of them ad-libbed, especially after his hurtful tirade to her yesterday evening.

Searching for a way to make it go away, she honed in on the only thing she could. “Why isn’t he wearing a condom?” Why the hell should she worry if his dick fell off and brought his balls with it?

Max stilled at her words and Eric jumped from his seat, screaming, “you ruined the fucking scene opening your goddamn mouth.”

“Dude, chill out,” Ryker said. “We have all fucking day to get this scene right.”

Instead of taking Ryker’s advice, Eric snatched Story’s arm.

“Get your fucking hands away from her,” Max snarled, as Story jerked away and shoved Eric, the force of her push dawning on her at his stumble.

Eric fell against one of the mounted cameras and toppled it. The camera banged into a light, setting off an endless amount of crashing that had people scrambling in all directions. Max scooped his costar up, hurriedly removing her from any danger. She clung to him, until he set her on her feet. Silence met the end of the catastrophe. Every eye trained on Story, including Vista and the blonde Max had been fucking.

“You did this on purpose,” Eric spat.

“I didn’t,” Story said with quiet dignity.

Once again, Max whispered to the girl, allowing her to stroke his still hard cock that glistened with her juices.

Story glared at Eric. “Don’t ever,
ever
put your hands on me again. I’m sorry about the set. But I’ll find the nearest weapon to knock your head off if you don’t keep your fucking hands to yourself and off me. Am I clear?”

Max’s chuckle surprised her. She wanted to hit him, too, but for ridiculous and inappropriate reasons.

“First time I’ve seen you speechless, Eric,” Ryker commented as some of the crew started cleaning her mess.

“We don’t use condoms here, Story,” Max told her, as if he hadn’t shunned her all morning. She’d almost forgotten the comment she’d made, that started the chaos.

“That’s against the law!” she cried.

“How about we all sit in the same jail cell together?” Eric wasted no time in rediscovering his voice. “If we go down for this, you and your mother go down for
your
shit.”

“Eric, my office. Let’s regroup after lunch, people.” Max turned to the blonde. “If you don’t mind, once I’m finished with Eric, we’ll use my office to fuck.”

He watched her sashay away, then turned to Story. Beneath his blue gaze, all the noise and activity around them fell away. For Story, just the two of them existed.

“During filming we’re tested every fourteen days. We have access to each other’s health records. We’re all clean,” he told her.

“There’s more than STDs to worry about. What about pregnancies?”

Max stiffened and coldness dropped into his eyes. “My cock,
my
concern,” he told her.

“Don’t you care about the babies you might make?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Are you at risk for pregnancy?”

“As long as you fuck, you’re at risk, asshole,” she snapped.

“I’ll keep that in mind. Now, answer my fucking question.”

“I’m on the pill,” she grouched.

“Any particular reason why?”

“To be prepared in case I decided to have sex.”

“Is that so?”

He sounded lethal. “Yes, Max. Why?”

“Did you have a boyfriend?”

“No.” She wouldn’t tell them Babs insisted she get on the pill, with the express purpose of Story losing her virginity. As angry as she was with her mother, she didn’t want Max’s opinion of Babs to further disintegrate. She attempted to steer the conversation back on track. “My point is you don’t seem to care about safety or contraception.” So why should she?

“I can’t help your misconceptions.” He turned toward the door. “You’ve held me up long enough. I have a gorgeous woman panting for my cock whom I intend to fuck as soon as I discuss an issue with my brother. I’ll see you after lunch.”

Unable to do anything more, Story watched Max saunter away, not once looking back.

She decided to take her lunch in the dressing room. Pasta, fruit, and a bottled water. Her head hurt so bad. The betrayal of her mother’s lies hadn’t abated. Witnessing Max’s lust and knowing he acted on it away from the set, ruined her entire day.

Annoyed, she pursed her lips.

The door opened and Vista stuck her head in. “You’re needed on the set in, like, two minutes.”

They were all one, big happy family. No one carried hurt feelings or pangs of jealousy over Max screwing that girl, except Story.

“You heard me?”

“Am I filming?”

“If they have all of Addie’s shots with Max.” She laughed. “They can’t seem to get enough of each other. It’s totally freaking hot.”

Story forced a smile. “Totally.”

Satisfied at Story’s response and missing the sarcasm, Vista waved and left Story alone. Wanting the day over with, she forced herself back onto the set, finding the girl she now knew as Addie filing her nails. Max lounged against the headboard, long, muscled legs stretched out and ankles crossed. His day old stubble added to his heavy-lidded allure.

They both looked sated and relaxed.

“Go to Max, Story,” Ryker said without raising his head from his phone. A frown darkened his face. He didn’t like whatever he read on his screen.

“Max?” Story called upon reaching him. Addie raised her head and smiled in Story’s direction.

Surprised at the acknowledgement, she nodded to the blonde, images of her and Max flashing through her head. If everyone else accepted this as normal, then Story would, too. Although it didn’t help her discontent to discover how much more stunning Addie was up close.

“Undress,” Max ordered without preamble, sounding as if he preferred not to talk to her. “We’re not filming yet. Addie, you, and I will get to know one another first. Get you comfortable with having her on set and the scene between you two.” He gave her a pointed look as Addie blew on her nails and set the file aside. “We’re both showered and ready for this afternoon. This is all fun and games with us. It helps the authenticity when there’s chemistry, and Addie and I have heaps of it.”

“Right.”

Addie cocked her head to the side.  “We’re enjoying each other for now, but that’s it. Nothing more will come of it.”

Addie’s gentle curiosity affected Story more than Max’s unyielding demeanor. She was used to that attitude from him. Even offering explanations to her, he had a cavalier disregard toward her. It was either his way or no way.

The insane urge to cry hit her again. She’d cried most of last night because of how deeply her mother had hurt her. In essence, she’d thrown Story to the wolves. She’d joked about Story’s crush on Max, but her out-of-control feelings weren’t the least bit funny.

At first, she’d at least been filming for her tuition. Now, she did it so Max wouldn’t have her arrested. Her mother had given up a complete confession, filled with lies. She’d left her to Max’s mercy, an emotion the man lacked.

“Undress,” Max repeated.

Protests raced through Story’s mind, but she recalled her sweet little speech about doing what she needed to do to get to a smoother road.

“Never done girl-on-girl?” Addie asked her.

“No.” That was about as much as Story could manage right now.

Smiling with understanding, Addie got to her feet and walked to Story. She threaded her fingers though Story’s hair. “It won’t be that bad,” she promised.

“An orgasm will cure your hurt feelings, sweetheart,” Max said gently.

Rolling her eyes, Addie snorted. “He’s a guy, honey. Ignore him. This is over his head.”

“You think?” Max teased and winked at Story. “We both know you can’t get attached to whoever you’re shooting with. I’d prefer to clear the air now.”

“By giving me an orgasm?” Story asked skeptically.

“By watching you
get
an orgasm,” he corrected. “By seeing you enjoy your body and Addie’s body, as she and I enjoyed each other’s.”

“Max—”

Addie bending and planting her mouth on Story’s drowned out her protests. Dragging her tongue across Story’s lips, she silently demanded that Story open to her probing. The contact teased Story’s senses, leaving her unsure if she wanted to return Addie’s kiss or not. Confused, Story stepped back and bit her lip.