Hitman's Hookup: A Bad Boy Romance (45 page)

She leaned back into me while I rubbed my hands across her head. I dug my fingers into her scalp, and she moaned beneath my fingers.

"God, that feels so good." The sound of her moaning was enough to make my cock wake up again. I reached down and rubbed my conditioner-lubed hands over her perfect tits.

She didn't tell me to stop. Instead she turned around and kissed me passionately, putting her wet body up against mine and shoving her tongue practically down my throat. I picked her up by her thighs and pushed her against the wall, the shower curtain sticking to her bare back.

She dug her fingernails into me and I massaged her ass with both hands, the water hitting my face. I didn't care. I wanted to devour her until there was nothing left. I wanted to fuck her until we both couldn't stand. I wanted to-

"Good morning, dearies!"

Olivia pulled away from my face with a popping sound, looking horrified.

"Uh, Gina?" I called out from the shower. A moment later I didn't need to wonder if it was her, because her wrinkled hand ripped the shower curtain aside.

"Oh, bless you two," she said kindly, smiling. "Believe me, if I could manage it, I'd be in that position with Richard as often as possible."

I was still holding onto Olivia, her arms wrapped around me. I could feel her skin burning with embarrassment. Even though I was routinely naked around perfect strangers and coworkers; I found myself blushing.

Gina pointed over at the bathroom counter where she'd put a tray containing orange juice and toast slices slathered in butter. A few brown boiled eggs sat in a small white, ceramic bowl.

"Breakfast, since I figured you two wouldn't be leaving the room any time soon. Sounded like you had fun last night,” she said pointedly.

"Thanks, Gina," Olivia said, speaking for the first time in this entire exchange. I could hear that her voice was on the verge of either pleading or laughter. I hoped it was a combination of both.

"Well, I'll leave you to it," Gina said to both us, turning and waving her hand. "Our hot water tank is on the fritz, so I'd hurry and wash out that conditioner, dear."

Then she snapped the bathroom door shut just as the hot water ran out.

Olivia shrieked as the icy blast hit both of us.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

OLIVIA

The rest of the day was a blur of sheets and sex and Wilder occasionally running downstairs to refill the water pitcher and grab some of the freshly-baked scones whose scent was wafting upstairs and into our room.

"If Gina knocks for dinner, tell her I can't move my legs to go downstairs," I said to Wilder, flat on my back, legs spread, as he kissed my breasts softly.

"I already told her we'd be staying in tonight," Wilder whispered against my skin.

I stretched my arms above my head and yawned. "It's nice being someplace they can't find us," I whispered to him, not even thinking about what I was saying.

Wilder pulled away and laid down next to me. He had a soft smile on his face. I took my fingers and traced them over the tattoos on his arm.

"It's a weird feeling, I know. You don't ever entirely get used to it. But after a few days you'll be begging for someone to take your photo again. Trust me. Relevance is everything in this business."

I blinked slowly. "You enjoy it? The attention?"

Wilder ran his hand softly over my belly. "Kind of. I hate the endless onslaught of photographers and questions. But it's business, Liv. It's all about feeding myself."

I laughed at that choice of words. "Feeding yourself? You must be able to eat Ramen noodles for the next five thousand years with the money you've made. You could quit tomorrow if you wanted to."

Wilder shrugged. "It doesn’t go as far as you think."

I raised my eyebrows and scowled in disapproval. "Not the poor little rich boy act."

Wilder held his hand up in defense. "I'm not saying I don't have plenty. I do. It’s just that a little goes to agents and a little goes to PR and a lot goes to taxes and various...hangers on. It's not as much as you think."

"Well, I'm sure I'm getting paid a tenth of what you are on this film, and I'll easily be able to live for the next three years on it."

"Will you?" Wilder asked.

I shrugged. "What do you mean?"

"Will you live off of that money for the next three years? I mean; you
will
have some opportunities after this. I've been sitting in on the dailies and you've got something Liv."

"You sound surprised," I replied, rolling onto my belly.

"Do I? I'm not. I mean...I knew what you could do back in college."

I lifted myself up onto my elbows. "Ah. And now we've come to that. You mean when you humiliated me in front of an auditorium of my peers?" I was trying to sound light hearted.

Wilder's face went dark and he laid on his back, staring at the ceiling. "I was hoping you'd forgotten that."

"Not that easily forgettable," I confessed. "You really pissed me off. I actually came to one of the performances. That sorority girl you chose over me was terrible. You guys had all the chemistry of two raw potatoes sitting on a cold marble countertop."

Wilder laughed. "She was a terrible kisser too, honestly. God, Diane was so pissed at me for that. I think she intentionally sabotaged my first audition in Los Angeles. I can't prove it, though."

I stared at my fingernails. They were still perfectly manicured courtesy of the on-set aesthetician. It was a look that I wasn't used to. Normally I smeared nail polish all over my nail and cuticles, then got in the shower and peeled off the extra from my skin.

"Why did you not want me to have the role?"

Wilder was silent. "I don't remember," he said after a few moments.

"You don't remember?” I laughed in his face. He looked guilty. “You're a terrible liar, Wilder." I put my hand on his chest to show him that I was trying to take this in a lighthearted way.

"Okay, I fucking remember. But it doesn't paint me in the most flattering light, to be honest."

I laughed. "Like I had a flattering portrait of college senior-aged Nick Wilder bouncing around in my mind. You were a dick. No changing that now."

Wilder exhaled. It seemed like it was taking a lot for him to be honest. "You left me that night. Onstage. You said that the sex was a one-time thing. I wasn't used to that, honestly. It... pissed me off. I'm not proud of it."

"Not proud of such a possessive display of toxic masculinity?"

Wilder sat upright and took both of my hands in his. "I knew I couldn't do that role with you for three weeks and not want to be with you again, and knowing that it was just a throwaway night for you bothered the shit out of me. Because...it wasn't like that for me."

I wanted that to be true. But my heart wouldn’t let me believe it. I couldn’t decide between crying or laughing, so I settled somewhere in between: laughing uncomfortably.

"Give me a break, Wilder," I said, pulling my hands out of his grasp. "I was probably the tenth girl you'd been with
that week
, but
me
walking away from
you
was the real problem?" I stood up.

"Yeah, well, you had an effect on me that I hadn't anticipated."

I held my hands up in the air. "So you took that out by robbing me of an opportunity to act with you? Asshole," I replied, walking to the bathroom.

"It was seven years ago, Liv," he called after me. "I've changed since then. Or at least I like to think I have."

I laughed from the bathroom. I turned the tap on and splashed my face.

“Have you even bothered to call Hailey?” I called back to him.

I heard the mattress creak from the bedroom. Wilder must have sat up.

“About what?” he retorted.

I dried my face off and walked to the door. He looked incredible with the sheets wrapped around him, his muscular chest enhanced by a beam of sunlight coming through the window.  I shook my head, trying to focus again.

“About your ‘engagement’? About her flouncing off the set?”

Wilder laughed. “Hailey is barely human, Olivia. She doesn’t react like most people do to normal human shit. My calling her would end one way: her baiting me and then recording my reaction so she could put a beat over the top of it for her next single.”

I bit my lip. “It’s just weird. It’s like you’re not really broken up.”

“We weren’t even
together
, Liv. Seriously. Blackmail is not the foundation of a real relationship.”

I looked down at my fingers again, leaning against the doorframe. “Were you fucking while you were in Italy?”

Wilder exhaled. “Jesus, no. We weren’t even staying in the same room. I was sleeping on the sofa bed in my assistant’s tiny suite for a week until she left.”

I felt hope growing in my chest. “So you really wanted me, then?”

Wilder smiled and stood up, leaving the sheets behind to come hold me. He pulled me to his naked body and then lifted me up. I wrapped my legs around him. We were eye-level for once. “I really, really wanted you, Liv,” he whispered. Then he kissed me deeply and we fell back into bed together.

***

A few hours later it was dark. I rolled back out of bed and grabbed my hair brush. My hair was already tangled again. I started pulling at it impatiently, the brush making harsh ripping sounds as I pulled the bristles through thick knots.

Wilder sat up in bed and made a ‘come here’ gesture with his hand, holding his palm out flat. I looked at him, curious and confused.

“Give me the fucking brush, Liv.”

“Yes, sir,” I replied.

I moved onto the mattress and pushed my back up against his chest. He was so much taller than I was that sitting down he still had a head of height over me. I nestled myself between his legs and breathed a deep sigh of relaxation, his skin warm against my back.

He took his strong fingers and deftly moved the brush through my hair, starting gently at the bottom and working his way up the strands with a patience that I hadn’t thought possible from him.

"Back in college,” he said quietly. “Nobody had ever affected me that way before. Or since.”

I sighed. We were back to the topic that had been buried earlier. “And that’s why you reacted in a toxic, possessive bullshit way. Instead of talking to me, the woman you couldn’t have, about it – you decided to humiliate me.”

Wilder kept brushing. “I didn’t intend to humiliate you. The reaction I had scared me. And I lashed out.”

“Intentions don’t matter,” I said calmly.

“I know.”

“How you reacted was hurtful. It was toxic," I said, feeling tears stinging my eyes. I wasn't sure if it was from the gentle care he was showing me right now or from the memory of humiliation. "You're not the first guy to pull that with me and you weren't the last either."

"I'm sorry, Liv. I really, really am. If I could take it back, I would," he said.

"I don't need bullshit masculinity in my life, okay? I had enough of that growing up with my dad. For the brief amount of time he bothered to be around, anyway." I pushed back my tears.

"You and me both," Wilder muttered, running the brush closer to my scalp and pulling down slowly.

He had finally worked his way up to my scalp, moving the brush in tiny circles that gave me goosebumps.

We sat in silence for a while, the only light from the moon, a light, soft breeze blowing the curtains in the air. It seemed like the bubble of unreality that we'd cocooned ourselves in for a blissful thirty-six hours had popped with the sharp prick of days gone by.

When Wilder finished brushing my hair, he pulled his strong fingers through the strands and then started massaging my shoulders.

I sighed and relaxed into him. Then he wrapped his strong arms around me, resting his mouth onto the top of my head. We stayed like that until we both fell asleep.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

OLIVIA

"You fell off the grid for a while," Lydia said pointedly, sipping her white wine.

We were sitting in the hotel restaurant patio overlooking the vineyards. This part of Tuscany was even more beautiful than where I’d been with Wilder. There were paparazzi swarming the town, but thankfully the hotel was keeping them far away.

That meant that we were trapped here for the rest of the shoot.

I looked around, thinking that everything was going on the studio's tab while I ate five-star food in absolute paradise. I needed to be grateful for this surreal experience. Still, a part of me was itching to get away already. Preferably in a place where Wilder and I could be together in public.

At this point, it seemed like even Antarctica wasn’t even safe.

"Yeah, I went off for a quick little side trip." I stuffed my mouth with ciabatta, hoping that the chewing would hide my guilt.

It was harder to turn on the acting for my friends and people who knew me well. It felt creepy at best. I hated lying.

"Mm. Interesting. You weren't the only one who went on a side trip then," she muttered.

"Yeah, I heard Aldo took the train down to Venice. He was telling me all about it at lunch," I said, cutting across her.

She raised her eyebrows. "Aldo isn't eye-fucking you right now from across the restaurant, so pardon me if I'm not too interested in the prop guy's weekend narrative,” she retorted. “But Wilde definitely is."

My instinct was to whip around to see if Wilder was, in fact, staring at me from somewhere I couldn't see. I compromised by flinching and shaking my head. "Whatever, Lydia."

"AHA!" she exclaimed. "I
knew
it
.
I knew it when Harrison called to ask your dress size. Why didn't you call me?" She leaned in, whispering. "Where'd you go? Did you fuck him?"

I looked around at the tables around us. They were filled with old, rich people tourists eating their meals silently and a few of the extra cast members. One of the key grips was looking over, interested in our conversation.

"Not here," I replied.

Lydia groaned. "God, I can't wait to hear more. I could have written an entire romance novel off of your first night together back in college."