Exposing Alix (23 page)

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Authors: Inara Scott

BOOK: Exposing Alix
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All of the men laughed, and Ryker felt his fingers curl into
fists. Deliberately, he imagined Emilio standing at his shoulder, and he forced
himself to take a deep breath and let go of his temper. “That’s what Alix is
for,” he said evenly.

“Ryker has more important things to worry about,” Alix
said, looking down at her nails as if the conversation bored her. “He does the
real work—I’m like the fashion police. You can’t imagine some of the
positions actors get into.” She shuddered. “Very unattractive.”

“Alix, you can start a whole new trend in the industry,”
Anthony said approvingly. “We’ll all start hiring sex designers the way we do
costume and makeup. I can’t believe I didn’t think of it myself. Now tell me,
when are you finished with
Salva’s Revenge
? I’ve got a little serial-killer
flick I need to have sexed up. Any chance you’re available?”

Ryker gave Alix a hard, searching look but saw only the
barest flash of something real in her eyes. It was dark and sad, and he took
her hand to pull her away from the group.

“Back off, boys,” he said with a grim smile. “This sex
designer is mine.”

There were a few hoots and catcalls. “You can’t keep her
all to yourself,” Anthony said.

“She’s doing important work for me,” Ryker said. “It isn’t
just about the sex. There’s more to it than that. She’s got a real gift for
working with the actors. I’m learning a lot from her, actually.”

Anthony squinted at him and then passed a quick look at
Alix. His eyes dropped to her cleavage. “Son, you don’t have to say another
word. I think I have an idea of just what you’re learning.”

Ryker had actually drawn his arm back, hand forming a fist
before he could stop himself, when he felt Gunther grab his elbow. In a
heartbeat, the white-haired man stepped into the circle, neatly positioning
himself between Ryker and Anthony.

“Ryker, why don’t you take Alix to freshen up her drink?”
Gunther said quietly. “Tony, I think perhaps it’s time for you to leave.”

Chapter Nineteen

 

“Lena!”

Jake pounded impatiently on the door to Lena’s trailer. He
still couldn’t believe she had quit. Things were tough on the set, sure, but
quit? She couldn’t be serious. It would ruin her career. What director would
cast an actor that had quit in the middle of a movie? Gunther Hartcourt would
sue her for every penny she had, and then some. Not to mention the rumors that would
circulate about why she was quitting. It would get ugly fast and stay that way
for a long time to come.

“Lena, come out here.”

“Go away.” A tired, choked voice filtered through the thin
aluminum doorframe.

Jake rattled the handle. “Lena, be reasonable. Talk to me.
You can’t do this.”

“You aren’t the boss of me, Jake.”

He sighed. “What are we, six? Don’t make me do this in the
parking lot.”

“I’m not going to talk to you.”

Jake began to methodically pound on the door with his
fist. “I can keep this up all night,” he called. “Do you really want that kind
of publicity?”

There was a pause, and then the door opened a crack. “I
don’t care,” Lena hissed through the narrow opening. “This is going to destroy
my career anyway. Why should I be bothered by a little bad publicity?”

In an instant, Jake shoved his shoulder into the tiny
space and leaned his weight on the door. Lena stumbled, knocked off-balance by
the sudden pressure of his body, and Jake stumbled forward into the cluttered
trailer. He caught himself just before he hit the floor, taking in the mess
around him with dismay. Tiny, snack-size bags of potato chips littered the
coffee table, and empty diet soda cans had been thrown with abandon across the
floor. A half-full bag of miniature chocolate bars and dozens of tiny foil
wrappers covered the sofa.

“You really know how to party, babe.” He turned to Lena,
the smile fading as he took in her bedraggled appearance. He couldn’t restrain
a sharp exhalation of breath. “Damn it, Lena, what’s going on?”

Her eyes were bloodshot, rimmed with red, and swollen. The
tip of her nose glowed like Rudolph on Christmas Eve. She wore a fleecy white
sweatshirt and pants, and all he could think of was wrapping her in his arms
and kissing away every single one of the tears she had so obviously shed. All
the rational things he’d come to say disappeared in an instant, and all that
was left was a bone-deep feeling of desperation.

“Oh stop,” she said, her nose clogged and voice thick. “I
don’t need your pity. I know you’re just here to save your movie. I’m not a
fool, Jake.”

“Lena…” He fought to clear his throat, searching for the
right words. “Lena, I—”

“You what?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “There’s
nothing left to say. It’s done. I tried and I failed, okay? I can’t do it. I
can’t shoot this movie with you. I thought I could, but I can’t. Are you
happy?”

“Happy?” He stared in amazement. “Of course I’m not happy.
You
can
do this; I know you can. You’re a damn good actress, and this
part was made for you. You can’t walk away from it.”

“So now Alix has you giving pep talks too?” she snarled.

“It’s not a pep talk. It’s the truth.”

“No.” She bent over and began to crumple the silvery
wrappers and shove them into the bag. “It’s not going to work. When you touch
me”—her voice turned husky—“I can’t act. I can’t think.”

“So don’t think,” he pleaded. “Just let yourself go. Let
yourself feel. That’s all Alix wants you to do. I heard what she was telling
you, and she’s right. If you could only let go, it could be incredible.”

The thin lines around her mouth hardened. “Let go? So
everyone can see how pitiful I am? The pathetic Lena Mandaval, still carrying a
torch for bad-boy Jake Redburn?”

He slapped a hand against his forehead. “You can’t be
serious! God, Lena, what’s this really about? You can’t possibly believe anyone
is going to think that, can you?”

Lena snatched empty potato chip bags from the floor. “I
want you to go.”

“I’m not leaving until we straighten this out,” he said.
Something fell into place as he said it. He wasn’t leaving. Not anymore. He’d
spent years walking away from her, and he was through.

“There’s nothing to straighten out.” Exasperated, she
threw her hands into the air, empty bags and potato chip crumbs flying across
the room. “I know what’s going to happen when that insane woman puts us in bed
together, and I refuse to let it be captured on film. I’ve got some pride,
Jake.”

He paused, tapping his mouth gently as an idea occurred to
him. “So why don’t we just get it out of the way right now?”

She cocked her head, looking at him as if he’d finally
gone insane. “Get it out of the way? Get what out of the way? What are you
talking about?”

“This.” He turned to close and lock the door, and then
took a purposeful stride toward her. “I understand what’s going on now. You’re
worried about what will happen the first time we make love after ten years.
It’s a legitimate concern. And there’s an easy solution.”

Her eyes widened, and she took a step back. “Jake, that’s
not what I meant.”

“There’s a lot of pent-up sexual energy between us. You’re
worried you’ll lose control. So we need to bleed off some of the tension. Get
the kinks out before they put it on film.”

She shook her hands in front of her and kept inching
backward. “I think you should leave. You’re obviously distraught about the
movie. I can understand that, but surely Ryker can think of some way to finish
this up without me.”

He grabbed her around her waist, sliding his hands under
the hem of her sweatshirt and locking his fingers on her warm, soft flesh. “I’m
not going anywhere.”

“Let go of me.” Her voice quavered.

He shook his head and pulled her toward him. “This is
something I should have done a long time ago. You know, all these years I kept
thinking someday we’d be able to start over. We were kids back then, I thought.
Someday we’ll be adults, and things will be different. I thought if I gave you
time, you’d come around. But I realize now that’s never going to happen. What
we had was too deep to forget. It’s in our souls. You know that. That’s why you
fight me so hard.”

Her hands formed two small, ineffective fists. She leaned
them against his chest as tears began to glisten in her eyes. “Don’t do this to
me right now,” she said.

“Oh no, I’m not falling for that. I’ve been sympathetic
before, and what good did it do me?” He moved his hands higher, from her narrow
waist to her back. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and his hands moved freely across
the soft, bare skin. “We’re going to make love, sweetheart, and there isn’t a
damn thing you can do about it.”

“Jake!” She sucked in her breath as he trailed his hand
along her rib cage, skimming the edge of her breast. “What do you think you’re
going to prove? That you can turn me on? Fine. I admit it. You turn me on. You
always have. Is that what you want to hear?”

He slid his hands to the sleeves of the sweatshirt, and,
with one neat tug, pulled it up and over her head. Seeing her naked breasts
brought a rush of desire so strong his knees quivered. Staring at her small
brown nipples, he said simply, “I know you want me. That was never our problem.
But do you know how much I want you?”

“It’s been ten years. You can’t possibly…” Her words
trailed off, and she sucked in a breath as he lowered his mouth to kiss each
impossibly beautiful peak.

“I’m not interested in talking anymore. That was my
problem all along—talking never worked with you. I’m going to show you, darling.
Maybe then you’ll get it through that thick skull of yours.”

Slowly, deliberately, he bent over and slid one arm behind
her knees, catching her in his embrace and marching purposefully toward the
bedroom at the end of the trailer. He had to shift sideways to fit through the
narrow hallway between the living space and the bathroom, bumping Lena’s
shoulder in the process.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

Lena stared up at him, eyes wide and vulnerable. For a
moment, he almost stopped and set her down. But then he remembered how many
times he’d walked away from her in the past and forced himself to keep going.

He laid her down on the bed. Lena threw out her arms to
steady herself, her eyes still tightly shut. Her skin, like sweet cream, stood
out in sharp relief on her crimson bedspread. When she laid her head down, her
hair surrounded her, jet black and shining.

“Tell me how you doubt me, Lena. Tell me how I can kiss you
like this and you can doubt the way I feel.” He lowered his mouth to her neck
and then gently flicked the hollow at the base of her throat with his tongue.

She closed her eyes. “Do what you want. I’m not going to
fight.”

He stood up and kicked off his shoes, pants, briefs, and
shirt. Her eyes remained closed, but her breathing had quickened. He watched
her chest rise and fall, her breasts swaying with the movement.

“I’m glad to hear that. And by the way, I’m naked now.” He
kept his voice conversational as he leaned over her. Pulling gently, he began
to lower her pants. Despite her protests, she lifted her hips obediently and
helped move the soft fleece down to her knees. He kissed along the inside of
her calf, down to her instep and the arch of her foot. She shivered when he
pressed his mouth against her toes.

Memories came back to him, images of kissing those toes in
their tiny studio apartment in Hollywood. They had nothing back then—just
a futon bed and limitless ambition to make it in the movies.

“What a lovely little thong, Lena. Did you wear this for
me?” Her clothing fell to the floor, and she lay before him, her body a miracle
of shining white skin and soft curves.

He put one knee on the bed, and the mattress shifted under
his weight. The comforter was soft and thick, so different from the coarse
materials they’d once shared.

She flinched, closing her legs.

“Tsk, tsk,” he said. He put one hand on her knee and
pulled her legs apart. “If you’re yielding to me, you must yield all the way.”

After a pause, her legs dropped open. He had to restrain
his own indrawn breath when her pink flesh was revealed to him. “God, Lena.
You’re so beautiful.”

Carefully, he coiled his body along hers, taking care not
to touch her except with his hands. Using only his finger, he outlined her
face, the curve of her eyebrows, and her smooth red lips. And then he kissed
her, softly parting her lips with his tongue and exploring the depths of her
mouth.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” he said, sliding his mouth
along the edge of her jaw.

She turned her body to his. Her eyes remained tightly
closed. “No words, Jake.” She pressed against him, and his skin caught fire
every place she touched. Her breasts burned against his chest, her mound seared
his cock, even his legs were scorched by her long, lean thighs. “If you’re
going to screw me, do it with your body, not your words.”

He ignored the shot of pain her words inflicted and
grabbed her buttocks with both hands, grinding their bodies together as if his
passion alone could convince her he was speaking the truth.

“Open your eyes, damn it.”

She shook her head. “You’re an actor. I can’t trust my
eyes.”

With a growl of frustration, he turned his attention back
to her breasts. With a long sweep of his tongue, he bathed the hard peak and then
gently bit the end until felt her hips jerk against him. He turned to the other
peak, giving it the same attention, nibbling and sucking until her hips were in
constant motion, grinding rhythmically against him.

Wanting both hands free, he sat up and pressed her onto
her back. For a moment, he stared at her body, memorizing her curves, the taut
flesh of her belly and puckered skin of her areola. Her legs were open now,
relaxed, and he ran his hands along the inside of her thighs, brushing against
the hair at the apex of her legs, feeling a cynical rush of satisfaction when
she moaned and strained toward him. With one finger, he parted her nether lips
and touched the soft flesh below.

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