Captive Films: Season One (8 page)

“Collin’s been having an affair with his secretary. But that’s just an excuse. I never should have married him in the first place.”

“I couldn’t help but notice you’re wearing the Hello Kitty ring Riley gave you when he asked you to be his girlfriend,” Keatyn says.

I look down and study it, tears filling my eyes. “Yeah, it’s what gave me the strength to come here.”

Club Razor - Hollywood
 

RILEY

I was going to make a bootie call but, instead, I call Knox.

“I am in serious need of a drink. Meet me at Razor in ten,” I tell him. “I’ll call and let them know we’re coming so our section is ready.”

A few minutes later, I’m handing my keys to the valet and being escorted to our VIP section.
 

The music is loud. The lights are flashing. The beat thumps in my chest.
 

And there are already girls lined up to see us.

This is more like it.

Knox strides in a few minutes after I do. We sit on the leather couch, toast to a good night, and down a few shots of tequila.
 

Make that four.
 

Or five.
 

Whatever. Thank god, I’m finally feeling buzzed.
 

And maybe a little drunk.
 

I have to pee, so I head to the bathroom while Knox starts grinding on two of the girls who were let into our section. Ron, our usual VIP bouncer, knows by now which ones to let in and which ones to turn away. Hot blondes with smoking bodies for me. Big tits for Knox.
 

I push the door to the bathroom open, remembering just a few months ago when a girl followed me in. I’d never seen her before, but she was hot and horny, so I leaned her over the sink and fucked her. I remember watching her titties bouncing in the mirror with every thrust. As I was coming, she said
ohmigawd
and proceeded to puke into the sink. I disposed of my condom and got the hell out of there as fast as I could. At least she waited to puke until I was done.

So she had that going for her.

Maybe tonight I’ll do the same, just find a girl who’s not as drunk.
 

I’m making my way to the dance floor, hoping to find my next bathroom fuck, when the DJ blasts the words no man in a club wants to hear:
If you want it, you gotta put a ring on it.
 

I hate when they play this fucking song. All the girls put their hands up in the air and think they have the power.
 

Tonight, though, the song brings back a memory.

One I’ve tried for years to forget.
 

I’m back on the Eastbrooke campus, standing outside her dorm just before curfew.
 

What if we got married? Then your dad couldn't say anything.

He’d still cut me off.
 

So? My parents are paying for my college. What’s mine is yours. I’ve got money coming from the movie and three more music videos lined up to produce. We’ll get by.

She grabs ahold of my face and looks deeply into my eyes. You'd really marry me, Riley?

Right this second if I could. I don't have a ring, but I'll get down on one knee and ask you right now.
 

I drop to my knee, take her hand in mine, and say, Ariela, will you marry me, go to California with me, and love me forever?
 

She smiles at me, tears in her eyes, and says yes.

I shake my head, willing away the memory.
 

Clearly, I’m in need of another shot.
 

Bouncer Ron fist bumps me, smiles, and gestures to the women he’s allowed in. He’s proud of his choices. I’m not sure if I’m just drunk and horny tonight, but I’d have to agree.

In fact, I might skip fucking a drunk girl in the bathroom and take a couple of girls home instead.
 

A nice threesome.
 

That will help me forget.

I down another shot and slide between two of the prettiest. They sandwich me in, both grinding against me. I close my eyes and enjoy it.
 

When I open my eyes, I see Ariela out on the dance floor.
 

I blink my eyes, thinking I’m hallucinating. How many shots have I had?
 

But, no, it’s her, looking hot in a skimpy little black dress. And some guy has his hands all over her ass.
 

I lose it.
 

Jump over the VIP railing and onto the dance floor, push the guy off her, and pull her into my arms.
 

“Are you following me?” I yell at her.

“No!” she yells back.
 

“Good,” I say, as the guy comes back looking for a fight. I raise my finger into the air, letting Bouncer Ron know there’s going to be trouble. He bounds over the railing and, with the help of two other bouncers, drags Mr. Hands off the dance floor.
 

What I'm about to do is so against my better judgement but, what the fuck?
 

Tonight Ariela is going to be just another sexy piece of ass.
 

I’ll dance with her, get her drunk, hot, and horny, then I’ll take her home, fuck the shit out of her, and forget about her for once and for all.

Just like all the others.
 

To all the girls I've fucked before.
 

That can be my theme song.

Friend’s home - Santa Monica

ARIELA

When I get back from Malibu, my friend is waiting for me in her kitchen.
 

“So, the kids are in bed and my husband is home. Let’s go to a club.”

“A club?” A club is the last place I want to go. I’m mentally exhausted from seeing Riley.

From being near him.

From kissing him.

“I have a dress you can wear, in case you didn’t bring one. Come on, I haven’t been to a club in ages. And you need to get out there. Speaking of which, how was dinner with your old friends?”

“He was there,” I say quietly, still barely believing it myself.
 

“Oooh, tell me all the details. I’ll grab a bottle of wine.”

“Uh, no, let’s do the club,” I say. On second thought, clubs are loud and talking is nearly impossible. The last thing I want to do is talk about my night. Drinking sounds like a better idea.
 

Drinking, dancing, and not thinking.

I shimmy into a spandex dress, throw on a pair of heels, and pretty soon we’re waiting in line.
 

“I can’t believe we have to wait in line on a Monday night. We look good, right? Like good enough to get in? What do you think of this shirt with this skirt? I picked this shirt since it’s flowy on the bottom and hides my belly. I got my body back right away after my first two, but this third one is killing me.”

“You look great,” I tell her.
 

“So, tell me about tonight.”
 

“He was there.”

“Yeah, you said that already. How did he look?”

“He looked good.”

“But you already knew he would, based on the magazine, right?”

“Yeah, but he looked better in person. He’s matured. Filled out in all the right places. And that jawline of scruff. Holy shit.”

“Did you talk?”

“It was kind of a disaster. He walked in, saw me, said
What the fuck?
to Keatyn, and hid in the kitchen.”

“Oh, that’s not the kind of reaction you want.”

“No, not at all. Keatyn went to talk to him. Then she came out and told
me
to go talk to him.”

“Awkward, much?”

“Yeah. But we didn’t talk.”

“What did you do?”

“We made out.”

“You, what? How? Why?”

“I don’t know. He said it didn’t mean anything but it did. It was the hottest kiss of my life. He pushed me up against the wet bar, slid his hands up my skirt. I would have done him right then and there.”

“But you’re married.”

“Yeah, I’m married.”

“You going to fix that?”

“Yes. I want a divorce.”

“Based on what you told me about Collin, I would agree with you. And that’s saying a lot. I loved the two of you together in college. I even stood up for you at your wedding.”

“I know.”

“You’re lucky you don’t have kids with him.”

“I didn’t want to get pregnant. He kept pushing for it. He’s been pushing for it since we got married. I mean, sex with him was one thing. A baby, well that’s a lot bigger commitment. I couldn’t risk tying myself to him for the rest of my life in that way.”

“So, you’ve known for a while?”

“I knew at my wedding, Sarah.”

“What?!”

“It’s true. I told my dad I didn’t want to marry Collin. Well, that’s not right. I told him I didn’t love Collin the way I loved Riley.”

“What did he say?”

“That I was being ridiculous. That it was just cold feet. That we’d been together for so long. That the family loved him. All very logical things.”

“I was your maid of honor. You should have told me.”

“I know. It’s really not Collin’s fault our marriage is failing. It’s mostly mine. I never loved him the way I should have.”

An hour later, we’re finally in the packed club. We immediately head to the bar and order a round of shots.
 

“Tonight we forget about our lives for a few hours and just dance,” Sarah says, clinking her shot glass into mine. “Let’s get out there!”

We work our way out to the crowded dance floor and it’s not long before a cute guy is dancing with me.
 

His hands are touching my ass and I don’t care.
 

It’s just dancing.
 

It’s fun.
 

The place is full of energy and I feel alive.
 

The guy yells into my ear, “Can I buy you a drink?”

I’m about to say yes, when I see quick movement out of the corner of my eye.
 

It’s Riley.
 

He grabs the guy and tells him to get off me. The guy is coming back, ready to punch him, but Riley raises a finger in the air and bouncers collect my former dance partner and escort him off the dance floor.
 

It’s really kinda hot.
 

But then he wraps me in his arms like he used to and kisses the top of my head. It’s a sweet gesture.
 

One that makes me want to start crying.
 

But then he gives me a naughty smirk and puts his hands all over my ass. I do the same while pulling him into my body and grinding against his leg. I’m trying like hell to grind against his dick and make him hard like he was when we kissed earlier tonight.
 

He smells like expensive cologne and alcohol.
 

And this reminds me of nights spent dancing after curfew.

We dance the night away. Although, I’m not sure this should be categorized as dancing.
 

It’s more like foreplay set to music.
 

I’m all worked up, barely able to control how much I want him.
 

This so wasn’t my plan.
 

I was going to talk to him first.
 

See if we could become friends again.
 

Then, maybe, we could be something more.
 

When he squeezes my ass, I care less about my plan.
 

I just want him.
 

I move my lips toward his and he full on attacks my mouth.
 

Grabs my neck and forces me to keep kissing him.
 

Like I’d ever try to stop.
 

Our kisses are ravenous, hungry. I’ve been starving for him all this time.
 

“I’m taking you home with me now,” he commands.
 

And I don’t dare say a word, for fear he might change his mind.
 

I just nod yes.

He grabs my friend, hands her off to Knox—as in the hot movie star, Knox freaking Daniels—and tells him to make sure she gets home safely. Then he wraps his arm around my waist and staggers out to the valet.
 

“Are you drunk?”

“Just a little,” he says. He used to say the same thing when I’d ask him if he loved me. He’d give me that handsome smile and say,
Just a little
even though he meant a lot.