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  I got it, and with him directing me, things felt more natural. I started to rock, doing my best to simulate sex. It had been a long while since I’d fucked anyone, but once I got going, my body knew what to do. I almost lost myself in it a time or two, but the constant peripheral awareness of other people in the room kept me from forgetting it wasn’t me and Spencer doing this, it was Sam and Chris.

  Vincent told us before we began that he wouldn’t be giving much direction during the scene. This wasn’t a porno but an intimate scene between two lovers, and he wanted us to do our thing. If there was something glaring, he would say, or stop us, but otherwise he left it up to us.

  When Vincent said that, I’d been grateful. Both that he trusted us in the scene and that he wouldn’t be giving direction about what the sex was supposed to look like.

  Still, I was surprised when Spencer surged up and flipped us over. He did it masterfully so his ass stayed pressed against my hips, and he instantly leaned forward to hide our cocks. We still fit together well, and now with him on top, I could relax and act.

  “Hold,” Vincent murmured and we both froze. I was panting hard, had been getting excited again, but Vincent’s timely interruption calmed me down. He walked around us, checking things out, then stepped back until he was clear of the shot. “Cody?”

  The cameraman shook his head. “Nothing indecent.”

  “Okay. I can probably work around anything if I need to in editing. You’re doing great, guys. Go ahead.”

  Spencer gave me a wicked grin, leaned in farther, and kissed me hard even as he rotated his hips. I felt him everywhere and I wanted him again. I thought of the past two days, how he hadn’t said a word to me after the first time I brushed him off.

  The morning after, he’d smirked when he saw me walking, and he opened his mouth to say something, but I cut him off with a quick “Fuck you.” He didn’t say another word. That was fine with me, but it reinforced his typical behavior. I still hated that I was so turned on by him, but as soon as this scene in the den was over, we’d be done with that.

  Shooting a sex scene was not a quick process. I’d done a few before, so I knew what I was in for. Vincent let us go at it, occasionally telling one of us to move a body part, otherwise staying silent. My lips were chapped and aching from so much kissing, my back cold and hurting from the hard floor, and my legs starting to cramp by the time Vincent finally called “Cut.” I’d been about to ask him for a break so I could get some water, lip balm, and have a stretch, but he called it done before I had to.

  Spencer sat up but didn’t get off me, still using his body to shield us. I didn’t let myself acknowledge the courtesy of that action. I didn’t want to think about Spencer doing anything kind.

  “I’m going to check out the playback,” Vincent told us, shooing Dan and Cody from the room. “If I think we need anything more, we’ll grab it tomorrow afternoon. But I think we got enough today. Great job, guys. Go ahead and get dressed. I think you’re done for the day.”

  With that, Vincent headed out of the room and shut the door firmly behind him. I lay there for a minute, waiting for Spencer to move, but when he grinned down at me and I saw that wicked gleam in his eye, I shook my head.

  “Hell no,” I whispered fiercely, then lifted my hips to buck him off.

  Spencer must have been prepared for it because he rode the motion better than any cowboy could have. He clamped down on my hips, holding me in place as he shimmied off. “Be quiet now.” He bent forward.

  I clapped a hand over my mouth to stifle the shout as he swallowed me whole. His mouth was warm and wet, the suction and pressure perfect, and I went from semi to fully hard in just three sucks. He had no problem deep-throating me; I’m pretty average, but he also has no gag reflex to speak of. He sucked and laved, nipped and licked. It was all I could do to keep the noises inside, and even then I had to muffle the sounds with my hand.

  When I felt his finger slide into his mouth alongside my dick, I knew what was coming. Shamelessly I spread my knees, pulling them up. He pulled his finger out, wet and dripping, and without any preamble slid it into my ass. He pressed and pushed, and I screamed, hunched, and came down his throat. He swallowed it all, and when I’d done, kissed the tip of my cock and lifted up so I could see his face. With his hands on my knees holding me open, I felt decadent and wanton.

  And kind of dirty in the bad way.

  I shouldn’t have let it happen again. One time was one thing. We’d both needed it, wanted it, and that had been all there was to it. But a blow job just because we’d gotten a little turned on? Really unacceptable.

  “You’re so beautiful when you come,” he murmured, dropping his gaze to my spent, saliva-slick dick. The lust in his gaze would make anyone feel good. “I want in your ass.”

  “No.”

  His gaze jerked to mine. “Alex?”

  I was surprised to find a raw vulnerability in his expression, and the vitriol I’d been about to spew died in my throat. I couldn’t give him the hate-filled words I’d been poised to deliver.

  I slowly pulled out of his hold and sat up. “I can’t, Spence,” I said, keeping my voice soft, deliberately shortening his name. Suddenly I didn’t want to hurt him, even though a few moments before that was all I wanted—had been all I wanted for the past nine months. “Please, I just…”

  He kissed me. Just leaned forward and took my lips in a slow, sweet kiss. Then he pulled back, gave me a nod, and stood, offering me a hand up. Neither of us said anything as we pulled our clothes back on. I was the first one done, and I left without a backward glance.

  Chapter 8

  Vincent called, “Action.”

  We all raised our bottles. I waited a moment, letting the emotion and heaviness of the scene sink in, and then spoke my line as reverently as I could. “To John. May we make him proud.”

  Even though we weren’t bothering with sound since we were on the beach and the wind would play havoc with the mics, I needed to get the emotion right so I could dub it over later.

  Spencer took my hand. Across the fire, Melora leaned into Brandon, who had his arm around Lena. Dan was sitting a little bit apart, his face impassive and his body still.

  “Cody, go,” Vincent directed.

  The Steadicam operator stepped into the circle and slowly panned around, catching each person’s face. This was the final scene in the movie, and Vincent had scheduled it last so we could feel the goodbye even more strongly. Well, that and he’d been waiting for the fire restriction to be lifted so he could build one above the high tide line on his private beach.

  The camera finally settled on Dan, who I could see clearly from where I was sitting. My breath caught as I saw the warmth and affection on his face and the great sadness underneath. Then he stood slowly, took one final look around, stepped over the log, and walked down the beach. I watched him go, feeling the sense of loss my character was supposed to feel.

  He walked about a hundred paces and then glanced back over his shoulder. Vincent held up his hand, Dan’s signal to return.

  I didn’t move. I didn’t know if we’d have to do it again, or if we’d actually gotten it in one take as Vincent had wanted us to. Once Dan was in hearing range, Vincent let out a whistle.

  “And that’s a wrap, you fools! It’s in the can!”

  The cheering was sudden and surprisingly loud for such a small group of people. I couldn’t hold in a whoop of joy. Not only had we shot the final scene in just one take, but we’d finished filming the movie. Spencer notwithstanding, it had been an amazing experience, and the film was going to be something awesome when it was cut together. I felt relief that it was over but also immensely proud of a job well done.

  Vincent’s booming voice cut across the noise. “All right, go have fun. But get the equipment put away first! Then eat, drink, and be merry. You guys did great.”

  That was all the praise we were going to get from the man. As I glanced at him, he wrapped an arm around Dan’s waist. The two am
bled off down the beach, so I turned my attention back to the task at hand and bent, grabbed the cable at my feet, and started to wind it up.

  It didn’t take long to put everything away, especially with Lucas watching carefully. Before I knew it, I stood among the long tables Vincent had set up on the lawn. Milo had just finished setting out all his dishes, and Cody was lighting the torches that had been shoved into the ground around the perimeter. Coupled with the bonfire behind me, the lanterns hanging off the deck and placed on the tables, and the glowing house in front of me, the entire yard was transformed into something gorgeous.

  For a long moment, I took it all in and then moved toward the beverage table, wanting a real beer, some of Milo’s amazing food, and to just relax. Tomorrow I would be heading home; I wanted to soak in everything. I needed to capture this in my memory while I could.

  Lost in it all, it took me a little while before I realized someone was standing, still and silent, behind me. It was Spencer. Well, I didn’t know that, but it felt like it was. I was certain that if I turned, I would see him there.

  But I didn’t turn, didn’t speak. Neither did he. Part of me felt that I should just walk away so as to not get into anything on our last night, but another part of me wanted to know what he was doing.

  Finally I took a fraction of a step backward. A moment later, he took one forward—I could feel his heat on my back, though he wasn’t actually touching me. He made a noise, just a soft sound to let me know he was there, and then stepped right into me. Spencer placed his hand on my back and then bent his head. His breath washed over my neck as he spoke directly in my ear.

  “Can we have a real conversation?” His voice was soft, just an edge of pleading.

  I shivered. It was chilly, dammit! That shiver certainly wasn’t because of his proximity. I swallowed hard, then cleared my throat. “Okay.”

  Another moment’s hesitation, and then Spencer gently took my hand, wrapping his fingers around mine and tugging me in the direction of the woods. The trees were dense around the house, and I had a wild moment imagining Spencer was leading me there to kill me. I choked down the ridiculous laugh and breathed a sigh when we were out of earshot of everyone else, but only partially concealed by the huge oak trees.

  I turned to face him when we stopped walking, and after a glance to make sure we weren’t too far away from the party, I focused my attention on him. I was bound and determined not to be the one to speak first, but Spencer wasn’t talking either. He rubbed the back of his neck, shuffled from foot to foot, and stared over my head at whatever was behind me. He dropped his gaze and kicked at a small rock, then brushed his foot against the ground to clear the space in front of him. I finally realized he was nervous, but I had no idea why. A small part of me wanted to soothe him, to assure him that he could just talk, but I resolutely shoved it away and crossed my arms over my chest.

  Spencer released an explosive sigh, sucked in a deep breath, and raised his gaze to meet mine. I saw determination there, and surprisingly, affection. It was clear his mind was working as he tried to figure out what to say.

  I dropped my arms to my sides, and Spencer’s lips twitched into a small smile.

  “It was never my intention to hurt you.” His voice was quiet but firm. “I’m sorry that I did. I wanted you, had been wanting you for a while. Because, let’s face it, who doesn’t? And you were talking with me and laughing, and it was everything I wanted. You let me take you home, and you let me fuck you. Then you started talking about the role. I was a deer in the headlights because I feared if I said anything, you’d make me leave, and I didn’t want that, and oh God please say something so I stop babbling.”

  I would have laughed if it wasn’t so serious, so I squinted instead. “So you lied?”

  “I omitted, yes.”

  “Semantics.”

  “Maybe…yeah.” His smile grew a fraction, and then he shook his head. “You wanted that role so badly, and I was sure you would get it, so it wouldn’t matter. When they offered it to me—shit, Alex, I couldn’t say no.”

  Well that, at least, we agreed on.

  Okay, so the fucker could have said no, and I probably would have been offered the part. I would have liked that better, of course. I’d really fucking wanted that role.

  But yeah, I totally got where he was coming from. And that was the business, after all. “Yeah, I get it.”

  Spencer ducked his head a little so he could look straight into my eyes. “Believe me, Alex. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  I let that sink in and saw the sincerity on his face. Over the past month, I’d gotten to know him a bit. Watching him interact with everyone who wasn’t me meant I understood him better. In the beginning, I was sure it was all a show, but I’d rethought that opinion in the intervening weeks. The way he treated me after the scene in the den had gone a long way to showing me a different side of him. He was still an ass, but he meant what he was saying to me now.

  I gave a nod and decided to let him off the hook. “Yeah. Okay.”

  Spencer’s mouth bloomed into his gorgeous grin. He took a step toward me and his voice dropped. “Can you stop hating me now?”

  My gaze snapped to his, disbelief running in my veins. “You hate me back!”

  He cocked his head to the side, studying me as he considered, took another small step forward. “I was reacting to you.” His voice was so soft. “We slept together, and then you punched me in the face. What was I supposed to think? Then you kept saying shit about me to the press, and I felt like I had to retaliate.”

  I had to admit that was a fair assessment. We’d fed off each other, each of us reacting to what the other said last. I dropped my shoulders and blew out a breath.

  Spencer took that as his cue and closed the distance between us until he was right in my personal space. “But I’m not gonna do it anymore. Not in public. I will not react.” He offered me a sweet smile. “I’d love it if you stopped too.”

  I was having a hard time downshifting into this new line of thinking. Rubbing my eyes hard with the heels of my hands, I made a split-second decision to trust him. Because if he didn’t do as he said, I could always eviscerate him again.

  I blew out a breath and met his gaze. “I’ll try.”

  “Thank you,” he murmured. Then he slid his hand under the edge of my sweater.

  My mouth dropped open, but before I could react, he’d wormed his fingers under my T-shirt and brushed their tips over the top of my hip. I shuddered. Fucker knew that was a hot spot of mine. He’d made me writhe and beg with his mouth on that spot; he wasn’t playing fair. “No, I’m not going to—”

  “Hey.” He grabbed my chin in a gentle grip, turned my face to his, and bent low, his lips hovering over mine. His gaze was burningly intense. I sucked in a fast breath, and under the scents of dirt and wet leaves and bark, I could smell him. Fabric softener and his shave gel combined with his natural scent, and I wanted to lean closer and inhale him. A good clean smell, one thing I’d noticed about him from the very beginning.

  Spencer’s grip on my chin gentled further, turning into a caress as he slid his fingers along the edge of my jaw. His gaze dropped, watching what he was doing, and then he licked his lips and raised his eyes back to mine.

  “Don’t pull away, okay?” His voice was barely more than a whisper and his hand closed convulsively on my hip. He tried for a cocky grin, but didn’t quite make it. “Let’s part on good terms.”

  I knew what he wanted, but I wasn’t sure if I wanted to give it to him. “We are. No more hate talk, remember?”

  He laughed, a sultry sound that hit me right in the gut. “Right. But maybe—” He pushed his thigh between mine and pressed up a little, so I could really feel him on my suddenly hardening shaft. “—a nice, slow goodbye is in order, don’t you think?”

  I should say no. I should walk away from this man who’d done everything he could to mess with me. Just because he’d apologized, and probably even meant it, didn’t mean I s
hould give in to my body’s desires. I wanted him before everything went wrong, and wanted him still even when I hated his guts. Maybe I didn’t hate him with the same vehemence anymore, but that want was still right there, riding me.

  But I didn’t have to act on it. I was a grown-up, for fuck’s sake. In charge of my faculties. I didn’t have to let my body lead.

  I took a long, deliberate step backward.

  Spencer’s face fell. Then he gave a sad sort of smile and dropped his hands from my body.

  I grabbed his wrist and tugged him toward the front of the house.

  Chapter 9

  It was a wonder we made it into the house without anyone noticing. There was a moment when we almost got caught, but it was Milo leaving through the back door with another tray of food and he didn’t pay us any attention. I dragged Spencer up the stairs, and he crowded me the moment we stepped into the hall. I didn’t hesitate to go into his room, simply pushed his door open and let our momentum carry us through. I turned fast as soon as he shut the door.

  The heat in his gaze nearly made me burst into flames. With his attention fixed solely on me, I stripped. I wasn’t making a show of it, but I wasn’t rushing either, wanting my clothes off so he could put his hands on me. After I pulled off the sweater and shirt in one motion, kicked off my shoes as I undid the button on my jeans. Then I pushed them down with my boxers and stepped out of both. There was no sexy way to take off socks, but no way was I letting him fuck me with them on, so I sat on the edge of the bed and peeled them down. He was on me a moment later, nudging me back, his naked body covering mine. He’d apparently undressed in the minute I’d been focused on my feet.

  He lay on top of me, and I spread my knees so he could fit between. He was slightly taller through the torso, so he dragged his pelvis against mine and adjusted to the best fit. Holding some of his weight off me with his forearms, he framed my head with his hands. I breathed out a sigh, content to have him covering me. I loved how he pressed me into the mattress.