Beautiful PRICK (14 page)
Authors: Sophia Kenzie
“Fight for us.”
“Can’t you see that I am?”
I get to the studio just in time to catch the final take of
the love scene Johnny and I rehearsed the day before. He’s good, powerful, and
I can’t take my eyes off of him.
That might also have something to do with the fact that he’s
all I’ve been thinking about the entire day.
“And if I don’t wait for you?” The actress playing his
counterpart is very believable.
“I’m asking you not to.” Johnny whispers, just as he did the
night before, with me.
“So you’re asking me to leave you alone without any hope?”
She looks up, and I’m pretty sure I see tears in her eyes. Go her!
“Hope is all I have.”
And then she says that final line: “It’s not all you have. Tonight,
you have me.”
I want to clap. I don’t know why. I guess I’m so used to
seeing stage shows in New York. Luckily, I stop myself before making any noise.
But the director hasn’t yelled, “cut” yet. He’s letting them play out the
scene, and they are taking their time. There’s a look here, a glance there, a
hand here, and a breath there.
And then they kiss.
And the jealousy rages within me.
Meaningless sex, Caroline. Meaningless.
I try to tell
myself, though I’m fairly certain I won’t have much luck. Melissa was right: I
don’t do
casual.
Damn.
“Hey, what are you doing here?” Johnny sees me for the first
time back at the trailer. I have his things set out on the table, next to his
backpack.
He looks more shocked and confused rather than happy to see
me.
That’s not comforting.
“I did what I had to do, and then figured I might as well
come in and see if you needed anything.” I lied. If I were being completely
honest, I would have told him that I really wanted to see him, and that’s why I
came in. Plus, I was kind of hoping we’d hang out for a bit after work.
Luckily, I’m only honest in my head. Out loud, I keep
everything hidden.
“Cool.” He nods, kind of awkwardly. “Want to grab a quick
bite to eat?”
I pretend to think about it for a second, but then quickly
respond, “Sure.”
The pub-type place he suggests is walking distance from the
studio, and he tells me he’ll meet me there after his shower.
“You don’t need me to hold your towel?” I look at him
sideways.
“No. I’m fine. You go ahead. I’ll be right there.”
He smiles and waits for me to leave before he even takes off
his shirt.
What the heck? Who is this boy and what did he do with
Johnny Braylock? I don’t know if I’m reading something into it here, but I
definitely think he’s acting out of character, even for him.
But I don’t argue. Instead, I walk alone to the restaurant,
order a glass of water with a lemon, and wait for him.
I don’t wait long; he’s only about seven minutes behind me,
and it gives me time to catch up on some random e-mails.
“Sorry about that.” He huffs as he sits down.
“Not a problem.” I don’t look up from my menu.
He’s weird. He’s acting weird. Or else, I’m just thinking
he’s acting weird because I feel weird?
Ugh. I think too much.
Or maybe I don’t…
“Listen,” he starts after setting his menu down, “last night
was…”
You have got to be kidding me…
“…wrong. It was wrong.”
“Right. Totally.” I awkwardly agree, hoping to not give
myself completely away.
“Okay. I’m glad we both agree about that.”
“Absolutely. One hundred percent.” He has to be able to tell
that I am viciously lying right now.
“I don’t know what got into me, but that was completely
unprofessional and it shouldn’t have happened.”
Oh God, why is he still talking? It just makes it worse.
“Don’t just blame yourself. I was there too.”
“Yeah, but…” He gives me a look, and I swear, he’s thinking:
yeah, but you’re you and I’m a movie star and it’s impossible to resist my
charms, so I took advantage of poor little you.
I could punch him. I feel a blast of rage surge through my
body and I start calculating all the ways I could take him down from this
position. I run through the different positions he’s shown me, and even add in
a few moves I learned off the internet that I’m pretty sure would be enough of
a surprise that I would at least have some leverage over him.
What the hell am I doing? I’m not going to attack Johnny in
the middle of a restaurant.
Neither of us says anything more until the waiter comes to
our table. Johnny orders a salad with grilled chicken and mandarin oranges.
“Vegetable soup, please.”
The waiter smiles and leaves us alone.
“Just soup?”
“Yeah.” I start to play with the straw in my water.
“With no meat?” He’s obviously very confused by my order,
because I am anything but a vegetarian.
“I’m just not hungry.”
“Oh, then why’d you come?” He stares at me, waiting for an
answer.
Because I wanted to spend time with you…
Because I thought you wanted to spend time with me…
Because I actually enjoy your stupid company…
Because you suck and I have no idea what the heck changed
since last night, but you’re stupid and should like me…
Okay, I’ve become a child. Again, I’m very thankful that I’m
not honest out loud. So instead, I simply say, “It’s weird. I thought I was
hungry. I guess not.”
And he says, “Gotcha.”
Awesome. Just awesome. Why is Melissa always right?
I finish my soup and say goodnight. I have to get out of
there. I have all this pent up energy and anger, and I just can’t look at him
any more. He offers to take me home, but I tell him not to worry about it; I’ll
be fine.
And anyway, I’m not going home, not after that. I’m going
back to the underground fight.
I hate admitting that I’m this person, but I’m only human
and I need something to focus on. If Johnny doesn’t think it should be him,
then all my energy is going toward Juan. So, yes, it might not have been the
smartest decision I’ve ever made, but I went to that fight… alone. And then I
went again. And again.
And I continue to go for weeks.
They hold this specific fight club four nights a week, but
it seems that the competitors only fight once a week, giving themselves a nice
enough time frame to heal. The matches are set ahead of time, all days except
for Sundays. Sundays are considered “amateur night”. Anyone can show up, and
anyone can fight.
I have every intention of fighting on Sunday.
“Today I want to work on something commonly referred to as
the Electric Chair.”
I nod my head as Johnny speaks, but am busting inside
because I actually know this move. I saw it happen at one of last night’s
matches, so I went home and practiced it on my own.
Johnny tackles me from the front, pushing me on my back,
with him on top. I smile, as we’ve been in this position before, but this time
I know the outcome will be much different.
Before he can explain what I should do next, I wrap my feet
around his one leg as I use all my might to push him up by his ribs. At that
point, I check him under his arm, and sneak my body through the trap door I
have created. My head is now at his knee, and I straighten my legs so that he
ends up in a split. I continue to straighten and stretch him until he taps out.
“Where did you learn that?” He scrambles away from me.
I jump to my feet, not even trying to hide the immense
amount of pride I feel. I almost say it: that I’ve been sneaking away to the
underground fight, that I now know those tunnels like the back of my hand, and
that I have every intention of fighting on Sunday.
But then I realize I can’t tell him. If he knew I was doing
all of that without him, he would throw a fit. He would give me all that crap
about it not being safe, and how I’m reckless, and then he would start calling
me “kid” again.
I hate it when he calls me “kid”.
So instead, I just say, “google.” And I smile.
I can tell he doesn’t believe me,
he
thinks there is more to the story. But still, he cautiously nods. “Nice work.”
“Thanks.” I try to seem unfazed, but inside I am reeling. I’m
excited and yet nervous, and completely out of my element.
We continue to train. I’ve actually gotten quite good over
the last few months, and it’s finally starting to show. He continues to put me
in submissive positions, and I continue to escape. Down, and up, down, and up,
down, and…
We’re down; we’re on the ground. His knee has my knee pinned
out to the side, his arm has my arm secured above my head, and his other arm is
wrapped under my ribs. We’re close, too close, and my body is arched toward
him. I can feel a twinge of pain in my chest as I try to subdue the wanting
feeling my body is offering.
Johnny’s eyes are locked on mine. He seems lost, maybe even
hurt, and I’m sure mine look the same way. I don’t want to move from this
position, but something needs to happen, or else I’m pretty sure we’ll stay
here forever.
“Kiss me.”
I don’t mean to say it. I don’t know why I do. But, there’s
something there. I can’t deny it, and I honestly don’t think he can either.
“What?” He asks as if he thinks he imagined my request.
“I said kiss me, Johnny. You want to. So do it.” I whisper
with full intent.
“Don’t tell me what to do, Caroline.” My body takes more of
his weight, and I know he’s torn. He’s closer, allowing himself the ability to
take advantage if he so pleases.
So what’s holding him back?
“If you would just do what you so obviously want to do, then
I wouldn’t have to tell you to do it, now would I?” I’m talking to him as if
I’m angry. I guess, in a way, I am. He turned me down. He had no right to do
that. For so long, he had been the one actively pursuing me. What right does he
have to completely flip the switch once I decide to go all in? I’ve been
harboring these confused and angry feelings for too long now. I’m sick and
tired of it.
Johnny subtly licks his lips, but continues his stare. He’s
still unsure. He’s still deciding.
And then he’s gone.
He grabs my ribs and flips me onto my stomach, sprawled out
in all directions. He puts his full weight on me and lowers his lips to my ear.
“I said, don’t fucking tell me what to do, Caroline.” His
growl is fierce, and while it should frighten me, I find myself more turned on.
I want to give it back to him. I want to start this fight.
And I do.
“Then fucking tell me what you want from me.” I close my
eyes, trying to take in the pain from his weight pushing me into the ground.
My arms are pushed up above my head and he locks my wrists
in his grip. He spreads my legs, and I can feel him becoming hard against me.
“I told you what I want from you.” The Welsh God whispers as
his fingers tickle down the side of my arm, my ribs, my waist, and land on my
hip. They dig into my skin and my body warms to the idea of him.
“You told me you wanted to be professional.” I harshly
tease, as I arch my pelvis back, pushing into his growing pleasure.
“That is still what I want.” His fingers dig deeper as his
grip on my wrists tightens.
He deeply moans as I arch back again, and again. “Doesn’t
feel that way.”
He pushes into my push, and I can feel his breath grow
hotter on my shoulder. He rests his head against me, and his hand begins to
travel under
my stomach. I suck in, allowing him
to sneak his hand down, if he so pleases, to which he takes the hint quite
nicely. His finger slips inside of me, and I tighten around him. He kisses my
neck: nipping at my skin between each shoulder blade. I begin to pant, wanting
him to know that I desire more.
“Johnny, take me.” I whisper, all anger gone from my voice.
He slips my thin, tight shorts down my hips, kicking them to
my ankles, and bites down on my shoulder as he fills me. He makes sure I take
all of him, and I scream out in response. I roll my hips with his movements, encompassing
every last bit of him.
“Tell me you’re mine.” He grumbles into my ear.
I play along. “I’m yours.”
“Say it again.” His voice deepens, ever so intense.
“I’m yours, Johnny. I’m all yours.”
He slowly pulls out, teasing me with the anticipation.
“Tell me you need me inside of you.” He nips at my earlobe.
I cry out, “I need you inside of me.”
He slams his hips, jumping both of our bodies forward on the
mat. My screams echo throughout the large gym, and even though the thought
crosses my mind that anyone could enter at any time, I don’t care. I want to
enjoy this. I want to enjoy him. I want to live in this moment of ecstasy.
And I do. And I do again. And I meet his thrusts, and match
his moans.
And then we lay there, together, as we did before, neither
wishing for our bodies to ever separate. I feel his light kisses on my neck and
my shoulder, and I sigh out a hum in response.
“Spend the night with me tonight.” Johnny whispers right
into my ear.
I want to,
I can’t deny that,
but I stop myself from giving my instinctual response. Johnny had made it clear
that he wanted things to be professional between us, and although I was able to
swerve him from that in a moment of weakness, I can’t trust that he won’t just
as quickly recourse back to his moral high ground. I can’t rely on that, so I
must keep with my initial focus.
On Sunday I will fight.
Therefore tonight, I must study the matches.
“I can’t tonight.” I roll from his grip. “I have plans.”
“Plans?” He looks at me, seemingly hurt.
“Yeah, plans.”
It’s all I say before composing myself and walking toward
the gym door.
