Sweetest Sin: Bad Boy Bundle (77 page)

“No, because stars are usually talented.”

“Jeez Blondie, I see you haven't lost your edge. You seemed pretty happy with my performance the night I stayed at your place,” he quipped. Damn it, he had me there. Why did I have to be so damn vocal during sex?

“My name's not Blondie and don't flatter yourself. I can be a pretty good actress when I want to be,” I retorted. My orgasm had been one hundred percent genuine and incredible, but he didn't need to know that. It was fun to see some real doubt on his face for once. However, it was soon replaced with his signature cocky smile.

“Nah, you loved every second of it baby. Don't lie to me.”

“Don't call me baby,” I said, “And please talk about something else or just let me get out here. I'm tired of listening to you.”

Dane rolled his eyes at me but he stopped talking about sex. In fact, he stopped talking altogether. He drove in silence, staring straight ahead. Part of me enjoyed the welcome break from his obnoxious comments, but the other part of me was disappointed. In a weird way, I liked hearing what he had to say.

“Are you hungry?” Dane asked after a while. That was not what I was expecting him to say. With perfect timing, my stomach gave a low grumble. My day had been tiring and if I was being honest, I was starving. I needed food pronto. I wasn't about to admit that to him.

“No, I'm fine.”

“Savannah, your stomach is making really weird noises. Just admit you're hungry, will ya?” he said. His tone became deeper, more serious, “Look, I know I annoy you, but why don't I make it up to you with dinner? I'm starving and I always feel weird going out to eat by myself.”

That was strange too. No man I'd had a one night stand with had ever asked me out for dinner. In fact no man had offered to buy me dinner in my entire life thus far without wanting to fuck me. Dane was obviously ready for round two. Well, he could forget about that. I was quite happy to burst his bubble.

“I'm not fucking you again, Dane.”

He wasn't finished pushing his luck just yet.

“All right, no dinner and no fucking. Just a quick blow job then,” he smirked. I gave him a hard nudge.

“You're so disrespectful! How do the directors and actors put up with you?” I said. Dane grinned. “Baby, when you're this famous you can act however you want and people deal with it. It's great that way,” he put his hand on my knee and I felt my whole body tingle, “You should try it sometime. I'd bet you'd make a great actress.”

The thought made me laugh. I was as much an actress as Dane was a gentleman. The thought of being famous held absolutely no appeal to me, unless it was for the clothes I designed. That kind of fame was different.

“Ugh, no way. I'd hate that!” I said. It was true. Dane was surprised. He clearly hadn't heard someone react so negatively to the idea anymore.

“Really? Jeez, you really are an oddball. I've never come across a hot young girl who didn't want to be an actress or singer or model or dancer or a mixture of the three,” he said. I shrugged it off, wondering how many models, singers, dancers and actresses that Dane had slept with.

“Yeah well, I'm not like everyone else. I'm special,” I said. Dane nodded.

“I can agree with that,” he said, “So if you don't want to model, don't want to sing and don't want to act or dance, what do you want to do? Save the whales or something?”

He was mocking me and I hadn't even told him yet. What a great guy. Somehow answering his question with 'fashion design' didn't seem any less silly than the whale’s thing. I was under no illusions that it was a hard industry to break into. Most people laughed at me when I told them about my ambitions. It usually didn't bother me, but I knew that if Dane did it would.

“Yeah, like you care. You're just mocking me.”

“No, I do care and I'm not mocking, I'm just playing around. I'm genuinely curious. What's your ambition in life?” he asked. I bit my lip, wondering if I should tell a lie. If I told him that I was an engineer or an architect or a scientist he might take me seriously. In the end I knew that I had to tell the truth.

“I want to have my own clothing label,” I said, as confidently as I could muster. The words still sounded silly coming from my mouth. To my surprise, he didn't laugh at me. He didn't say anything at all, “It might sound silly to you, but I work very hard and I am talented. Very talented actually. So if when I get the right break someday...if I get the right break someday it might actually happen.” “I don't think it's silly,” he said, “I can't really judge anyway. I'm an actor. It's not exactly the most traditional career route.”

“I guess not.”

“You know I could probably hook you up with some people who could help you out there. I mean, if your stuff is shit they won't be able to do anything for you but if they like it it might help you a
bit,” he said. I held my breath. Had he really just offered me my big break, just like that? Dane dressed well but he didn't seem like a very fashion conscious guy. Would he really have the connections I needed? He was famous. Very famous. He probably had designers from all over the world wanting him to be seen wearing their stuff. It would be great publicity for anyone. They'd probably help him out in exchange for having their suit worn on the red carpet.

I felt dizzy all of a sudden. It was all too much for me to handle.

“That's really nice of you Dane, but it's all right,” I heard myself say, “I have to do this myself.”

“I know, and you would be doing it by yourself. It doesn't hurt to get a helping hand every now and then, you know. Actresses suck director's dicks for roles all the time before they make it big. Fuck, some of them do it even after their big break. It's no big deal,” he said. Ah, so that was what he meant. His offer of help was totally conditional. My mother had always said that there was no such thing as a free lunch. It was only in that moment that I realized how right she really was. Dane would help me, but only on the condition that I sucked his dick or did god only knew what for him. “Ah, you really think I'm that easy to manipulate? God, you're the fucking worst, Dane. You think you can get me into bed because you're famous. When that doesn't work you think you can get me into bed because I'm desperate to be successful,” I said. Dane's mouth opened.

“No, I didn't mean it that way. I was just using it as an example.”

“Yeah well, I've had plenty of examples of what kind of person you are and I'm not fucking interested. Not for all of the money and opportunities in the world,” I said, “Stop the car now and let me out!”

“Can you calm your tits? I'm like a block away from your place!” he snapped. There was no way that I could put up with him any longer, even if it was only for another block. I would end up slapping him.

“If you don't stop the car now I'll jump out of it!” I said. It sounded extreme but I wasn't lying. I needed to get away and I needed to get away now.

“Jesus! OK, you're fucking crazy so I'll stop,” he said, pulling the car to a screeching halt. As soon
as I stepped out the door a flash nearly blinded me. A bunch of men with cameras had appeared from nowhere.

“How do you know Dane?” One yelled.

“How long have you been sleeping together? How do you feel about his reputation as a ladies man?”

“Miss, we're prepared to offer you an exclusive!”

They were gathered around in such away that I couldn't budge. I couldn't escape. It was like being in a parallel universe. All I could do was stand there, my feet frozen to the ground in shock. Suddenly a hand grabbed mine and I was pulled back into Dane's car. I shut the door as fast as I could and he sped away, the paparazzi cameras flashing violently behind us.

“I'm sorry about that,” he said, “I don't know how they found us.”

Driving a Porsche around town didn't exactly help us to appear inconspicuous. I didn't even know that we had paparazzi in our town. I turned to Dane.

“Why did they want pictures of me? They were asking so many questions,” I said. He nodded, a frown on his face.

“They tend to do that. I'm sorry. They always want to know who it is that I'm fucking. It's really stupid,” he glanced back in the rear view mirror, “They don't seem to be tailing us but you never know with them.”

“They want to know who you're fucking? But you're not fucking me, I told you that!”

Dane groaned in exasperation.

“I know that but they don't. As far as they're concerned you're the hot news story. I don't know what kind of shitty publications consider the women I'm fucking to be news but there you go sweet cheeks. That's how they work,” he said, before begrudgingly adding, “You could probably get your own reality show now if you wanted.”

Was he serious? This was all so unreal, but he spoke as if this had happened to him a thousand times before. Those photographers had spoken to me like I was a star. A star they were determined to get a
story out of. I had hated every second of it.

“I don't want a reality show!” I said. The idea of it was horrific. Imagine being followed around 24/7 without being given a shred of privacy. It was inhumane. Dane smiled.

“Christ, you would never fit in in Hollywood. There isn't a person there who wouldn't give their left kidney for a chance at fame,” he said, “You really don't have any interest? Not even getting the chance to wear nice dresses and go to award ceremonies and shit?”

“I wear nice dresses anyway and I watch award shows on TV. All I want is to be left alone!” I insisted. Dane gave a low whistle. Had he really not met a girl who didn't want to be the next superstar? I found it hard to believe.

“You really are something else baby,” he said. I wished he wouldn't insist on using his stupid pet names on me. It made me think that was what he called all of his girls. For all I knew he did. Even the paparazzo had called him a ladies man. The last thing I aspired to was to be a notch on some stupid movie star's expensive belt.

“Don't call me baby. I want to go home,” I said, “It was nice of you to help me out there, but please. Just take me home Dane.”

Dane shook his head.

“That's a bad idea.”

“A bad idea? What the fuck are you talking about?” I said. I hated the authoritarian tone in which he spoke to me, like I was beneath him. Well, I wasn't some silly young groupie.

“Savannah, this is a small town. I guarantee that the paparazzi will be waiting for us when we get to your place,” he said, “It's just not safe.”

“I don't believe you!” I said, “You just want me to go home with you so we can fuck again.” Dane rolled his eyes.

“Don't flatter yourself, princess. I'm trying to help you out here but obviously that means nothing to you. Let's go to yours and see what happens,” he said. I nodded contemptuously. Hopefully when I got out of the car I would never have to see that stupid, handsome face again. Paparazzi in my
neighborhood? What a joke.

As it turned out, Dane wasn't exactly wrong. In fact, as we approached the apartment block we immediately spotted a huge crowd waiting outside. That had never happened before but I tried to reassure myself.

“It's a block party,” I said, “People are just hanging out. It's not paparazzi.”

Dane didn't say a word. He let me see for myself. A chain of lights began to flash. People rushed dangerously close to the car in an attempt to get a glimpse and Dane. Dane and his newest squeeze. It was mostly strangers but some of my neighbors were there, telling the paparazzi my name and everything they knew about me. It was Hell, and I hadn't stepped out of the car yet.

“Do you still want to go home?” he asked and for once his tone wasn't mocking. My hand was on the door handle and I felt conflicted. There would be no way that I could get through that crowd alive. Then again, I wasn't sure if I could spend the evening with Dane and come out alive. It was like choosing between getting shot or getting stabbed when all I wanted was a peaceful passing. Still, the choice was clear to me.

“No,” I said, “I want to go with you.”

Dane gave me that smug smile and we drove off into the horizon. What had I gotten myself into now?

Dane

Taking Savannah back to my house meant nothing. I fucked girls at home all the time. It was just more comfortable that way. Most of their houses weren't as nice as mine anyway. There was always the fear of taking home a clinger, which had happened a few times, but security usually got the message through to them. I wasn't a relationship guy. I wasn't even a friends with benefits guy. I was a doggy style on the first date kind of guy who had never called a girl back in his life. It was what worked for me.

Even so, knowing that I was taking her back after we had already fucked once was scary. Usually
girls made me feel like a kid on Christmas morning with a big pile of perfectly wrapped presents waiting for him under the tree. It was great at first, but once I'd torn the wrapping off and gotten what I wanted I moved onto something else. A kid gets and Xbox for Christmas and two weeks later he wants a tablet. I had a supermodel on Saturday night and on Sunday morning I wanted an actress. It was no different.