Aced (12 page)

“All right—sorry, guys, but we’ll need to pick this last scene back up tomorrow, so let’s go ahead and break for the day.”

Just great.

I didn’t waste any time getting the hell out, loosening the buttons on my collar as I headed to my trailer. It was too bad I had to drive home, because the bottle of vodka in the mini fridge was just begging to be put on ice.

Maybe the best thing to do in this situation was to confront the issue head-on. Let Dylan know that on-set romances were a seriously bad thing and warn him before things went too far. I’d seen my fair share of costars hooking up, and how it all went to shit when the romance soured. So yeah, maybe just a little friendly advice. Not that I cared one way or the other what he did in his spare time. I wouldn’t be losing sleep over his bad decisions.

Yeah, that was what I kept telling myself.
 

“Mr. Locke? Mr. Locke—”
 

I turned to see the production assistant, Amy, jogging in my direction, her messy brown bun sticking out in all directions and her glasses falling down her face. When she caught up to me, she pushed the frames back up to the bridge of her nose.
 

“I just wanted to let you know that your call time tomorrow is pushed up a half-hour.”

“Great, thanks,” I said, and turned on my heel to leave, but then had a thought. A risky thought. And before I could stop myself or think better of it, I was saying, “Could you send Dylan Prescott to my trailer now? He asked me earlier to run lines, and since we’ve already been dismissed, I’ve got some free time.”

“Uh, sure, Mr. Locke. I’ll go find him now.” She didn’t waste a second before she’d sprinted off again, and as I watched her go, apprehension filled my mind.
 

What the hell was I about to do?

* * *

“MR. PRESCOTT?” THERE was a tap on my shoulder, and I turned to see a mousy brunette standing there hugging a clipboard.
 

“That would be me,” I said.
 

“Mr. Locke said you can go run lines with him in his trailer now.”

“Excuse me?”

“Um, he said since production is done for the day that he has free time to run your lines with you.” When my brow furrowed, a sheen of sweat broke out on her face. “I mean, unless I got the message wrong—”

“No, no, it must’ve slipped my mind.”
What the hell is Ace up to? He wants me in his trailer? Hmm…
I gave the woman a reassuring smile, since she had a look on her face that screamed,
Please don’t fire me.
“I’ll head that way now. Thank you.”

She blew out a breath and then gave me a big smile before scurrying off, and I took a long gulp of my sports drink.
 

So Ace wanted to “run lines,” did he? That was a surprise, considering I had about ten lines in the whole movie. I saw right through that lie, because if the glares he’d been shooting in my direction today were any indication, lines weren’t what Ace wanted to run over with me. And I wasn’t going to wait any longer to find out what he had in store for me today.
 

9

STOP TALKING. START DOING.

I WAS PACING the narrow confines of my trailer wringing my hands as I waited in silence for the man I had sent for to arrive. God, I’d actually
sent
for him. If that realization didn’t make me feel like an even bigger ass for my behavior these past couple of days, nothing would. But it was too late now. Amy was efficient, and I knew that the message would’ve already been relayed and received.
 

The blood was rushing around my head, as I continued to wear a path up and down the center of the space and though the room was air-conditioned I could feel a bead of sweat forming on my forehead. My emotions were all over the place. I was caught somewhere between anger, frustration, and nerves. And the person they all centered around was—

Knock, knock, knock.

Knocking on my door.
Shit.
Here we go.

I walked over to the door and made myself take in a couple of breaths before I reached for the handle and shoved it open. As I looked down into Dylan’s face, the air I’d just sucked into my lungs was knocked right back out. He was beautiful, still dressed in his costume for the day; the Navy whites only enhanced his overall allure, and there wasn’t one damn thing about him I didn’t find appealing.

As I stood in the frame of the trailer door, my shadow loomed over him as he waited there staring up at me, and I knew I needed to get him inside before I did something I would regret—
like walking down the three stairs between us and taking his luscious lips with mine—
and just as I was about to invite him in, the lips in question curved into one of the most sensual smiles I’d ever seen.

“I’m here to ‘run lines’ with you,” Dylan said, and it was obvious by the way his eyes gleamed at me he knew I was full of shit. I took a step back as he climbed the stairs, and when he entered the trailer and I shut the door behind him, the confines suddenly felt much more claustrophobic than usual.

I kept my eyes on his back as he wandered down the narrow hall, looking from left to right as if inspecting the place, and when he reached the door that was pushed open to reveal my bed, I decided it was time to speak before I did something rash, like shove him down on top of it.

“It seemed like the most…practical way to get you here,” I said.

Dylan glanced over his shoulder and then reached up to remove the hat from his head, tucking it under his arm.
Damn
, there was definitely a reason Navy guys got a lot of action. He looked so sexy standing there like he’d just come home for a few weeks after a stint at sea. Even if it was just for show.

“Well,” Dylan said as he headed back toward me. “Now that you’ve got me here, whatever do you plan to do with me…commander?”

Dylan came to a stop only inches from me, and I could feel all the blood that had been in my head racing down to my pounding cock.

“Is this going to be one of those moments when you act one way then suddenly change your mind? Because I’ve just about—”

“Stop talking,” I said, realizing I needed just a second to work out what was going to happen here. Dylan, however, was apparently done taking orders today.

“If I stop talking I’m going to start
doing
. So make a choice in the next two seconds, sir.”

Oh shit.
That had every part of my body on instant alert. Dylan was so forward. It didn’t seem to faze him in the least who I was; he just went for it. And wasn’t that a fucking turn-on all in itself.

“What about Russ?” I asked, needing to know what had happened between the two of them.

“What the fuck about him?”

I narrowed my eyes. “Don’t screw with me about this, Dylan. I saw you two together. I’m not about to—”

My words were cut off when Dylan tossed his hat onto the table in the small seating area, and then he faced me again and took a step closer.
 

“What exactly do you think you saw?”

I licked my lips and Dylan’s eyes immediately dropped to them. Jesus, it suddenly felt like a sauna in here.

“I saw you going home with him,” I said.

“No, you didn’t.”

“Oh no?” I asked, my frustration from the previous day and today resurfacing in the face of Dylan’s amusement, which I knew was directed solely at me. “Are you saying you didn’t leave with Russ yesterday?”

“No.”

I opened my mouth and was about to continue my line of questioning when Dylan tilted his head to the side and asked, “Why am I here, Ace?”

Good question.
“I…uh…”

“Yes?”

I let out a huff of air. This was going nowhere smart—fast. And if I wanted to get a handle on what was taking place, it needed to be now. “I wanted to tell you what a bad idea it is to get involved with your coworkers.”

Dylan’s eyes narrowed, and when he took a step forward, I refused to budge.

“No, you didn’t,” Dylan said.

The ache between my legs intensified as Dylan’s gorgeous eyes held mine in place, daring me to look away. But I was beyond that, I’d come this far, and he’d just told me there was nothing going on with Russ. So what the fuck was I waiting for?

Then Dylan touched me.
 

He reached up to one of the buttons of the dress jacket I was still wearing, and then bit his lower lip behind his top teeth and…
damn
. I was done.
 

Without even thinking about it, I started to move. I took several steps forward, backing Dylan up and across the trailer until his back hit the wall by the sink. When his hands came up to my chest for balance, I heard him suck in a breath as our bodies aligned with one another. I placed my palms on either side of his head, and when he thrust his hips forward against mine, I heard a low growl that I barely recognized escape me.
 

Fuck
. I wanted to devour him.
 

I wanted my hands on him. My mouth tasting him. And I wanted to sink my throbbing cock inside of him.
 

“You’re right,” I finally said. “I wanted to tell you that it’s a bad idea for him to touch you in front of me.”

The grin Dylan aimed at me then could only be described one way—smug. Then he was smoothing his hands down my jacket and around my hips to my ass, where he tugged me closer so he could—
ahh…hell yes
—rub his stiff length against mine.

“You’re jealous,” he said, and when I shook my head, he laughed. “Yes, you fucking are. What I’m trying to work out is why?”

I brought a hand down from the wall and gripped his chin with my thumb and forefinger, angling his face up slightly. “Because
I
want to be the one touching you.”

Dylan ground his pelvis against mine, and when the tip of his tongue flirted with his lower lip, there was no way I wasn’t going to taste him. I brushed my lips over the top of his, and when I raised my head and his eyes opened, he asked, “Why’d you stop?”

I ran my thumb along his slick lip, and when his mouth parted and his eyes took on that heavy-lidded look of arousal, I just about fell to my knees. “Because I want to know if I do this, that I will be the
only
one touching you.”

Dylan sucked my thumb between his lips. When he let it slip free, he said, “You’re awfully demanding for someone who’s denied me at every turn. I don’t even have your phone number.”

I planted kisses along his jaw. “Yes. But you have me. In my trailer. Alone.”

“And that’s supposed to make me what?”

My mouth was now by his ear, and I flicked my tongue against it, eliciting a ball-tingling moan from Dylan. “It’s supposed to make you hot.” I couldn’t stop myself from nipping on his lobe, and when I did, Dylan’s hips punched forward, causing the exact same reaction from me.
 

God
, it felt fucking unreal to have him pinned there against the solid surface with my body. I wanted to grind all over him and relieve the ache between my legs. But first things first.

“You didn’t answer me,” I whispered by his ear.

Dylan turned his head against the panel of the wall, and when our eyes connected he panted. “No, he hasn’t touched me, no he won’t be touching me… Now will
you
fucking touch me? You’re driving me crazy.”

I knew the grin that curved my mouth then must’ve been close to feral, because those words falling from Dylan’s mouth made me feel wild.
 

His urgency only added to the arousal that was already heating the blood coursing through my veins, and I brought one of my hands down between our bodies to the brass clasp of his belt buckle.
 

“Now who’s being demanding?”

Dylan’s hand came up to grip my bicep, as I continued to work on unfastening his pants next.

“Can you blame me?” he said. “I’ve been thinking about this since Saturday night.”

As I drew the zipper down, I brushed my lips over his. “Only since Saturday…I’m disappointed.”

Dylan nipped at my lower lip, and as I slipped my hand into the elastic of his tight briefs and ghosted my palm along his erection, his mouth parted on a groan. “Ahhh…
fuck
…disappointed? Why?”

I chuckled at his ability to still talk, and ask questions, while my fingers were now wrapped around his cock. “Well, I’ve been thinking about this,” I said, and slid my palm up his engorged length, “since I saw your hot-as-fuck billboard.”

“Jesus, Ace.”
 

“Mhmm,” I said, loving the way Dylan was falling apart for me one sexy sigh at a time. It was such a high. “I used to drive miles out of my way to see you. Just so I could imagine you looking at me the way you are right now.”

Dylan’s fingers flexed and he bucked his hips forward. “And how am I looking at you?”

He was looking at me like he wanted to fuck, and God help me, I wanted that too. I wanted to be inside him, and all over him. I wanted to be naked and rubbing my body along the hard muscles and cock I could feel now slipping through my hand from the pre-cum. But there was no way I could just say that—was there?

“How am I looking at you, Ace?” he asked again, and there was a dare in Dylan’s eyes and voice this time around. He was daring me to tell him what I wanted, what he was making me feel, and with every word out of his mouth, the tight control I always kept in check started to unravel.

When I didn’t immediately answer, Dylan’s fingers dug into my arm again as he began to fuck my fist without any assistance from me whatsoever, and the sight was something I couldn’t have ever dreamed up.

He looked disheveled and erotic when he grinned against my mouth and goaded me again. “How. Am. I. Looking. At. You?”

His warm breath ghosted over my lips, and with his hard length pulsing in my palm, there was no way I wasn’t going to tell him. He was practically begging me to.

“You look like you want to fuck.”

Dylan licked his top lip and looked at me from beneath his lashes, and goddamn he was breathtaking as he whispered, “Correction, commander. This look…this look means I want to
be
fucked.”