On Heartbreak Ridge: Movie Trilogy Prequel Novella (The Movie Trilogy) (5 page)

I shook my head, staring up at him. “No I’m not okay. I’m afraid you’re not real.”

I reached for his arm, twisting his skin between my fingers, and he cringed with an amused grin.

“Did you just pinch me?” h
e asked, laughingly gazing down at me.

“You
are
real,” I breathed.

“Vivian,” he said, and I loved the way my name sounded on his lips. “May I take you out to dinner?”

I could only nod eagerly. He smiled again, lifting my hand to his mouth.

And then he kissed my hand.

Some memory from long ago tugged at my subconscious.

He couldn’t have done anything more perfectly romantic than taking my hand in his and pressing his lips to my fingers.

I stumbled in my heels, and he caught me, grinning.

“You’re not going to faint on me, are you? Historically, corsets were very tight, constricting the airways,” he admonished, running his hand down my side.

“No corset. Just a push-up bra and… and… I can’t believe I just said that.”

He laughed again, his eyes sparkling. “I love the way you talk. You’re so honest.”

His thumb brushed over my ribs, and before I could stop myself, I rose to my tip-toes and reached for him.

“Honestly, I’m not hungry, and I’d rather just kiss you. We can talk in-between breaths. Sorry if that sounds kind of slutty.”

He smiled, but had no objections.

We ended up on the old couch in the theater dressing room. When someone pounded on my door, I broke away from Matthew’s kiss and managed an “I’m fine, I’ll be out soon,” before turning back to the man
lying over me.

“
Vivian
,” he groaned, and as his hand began at my ankle and slid up my leg, I whimpered softly. “As good as this feels, we need to stop. I’m a stranger to you.”

“I know,” I admitted, even as he reached to unbutton his pants. Confused, I wasn’t sure if he planned on pulling away or not, and
nervous excitement crept over my senses. He tugged at the bodice of my costume, his mouth closing over my breast. “Wait, you’re right, Matthew-”

“I’m stopping,” he assured me, and I gasped at the prodding heat of
him
between my thighs. “God. I’m stopping. Okay.”

I arched my back and bucked against him, feeling so
reckless but fully aware that I was losing my whole fucking mind. His finger slid inside the edge of my panties, and I struggled to catch my breath.

“Wait, I’m a virgin,
wait
,” I rushed frantically.

He froze over me, his eyes locking on mine.

I felt the hives return to my neck, and flushed nervously. “I’m sorry. I should have… told you? I think? What? What are you thinking?” I begged, feeling him adjust himself and zip up his pants.

“I’m fighting the urge to pinch you.”

I stilled, and he smiled, and the kiss he gave me then was the softest, gentlest kiss of my life.

“I should k
now your favorite song,” he began, “before I know that you’re a virgin. I’m sorry I let us get this far this fast.” He took a deep, even breath, gazing down at me with a captivated smile. “Come on, I’m taking you to dinner. You’ll be hungry by the time we get a table, I’m sure.”

Matthew took charge of the moment, and I let him take charge of my heart from that moment on.

K

“
Kelsey! Kelsey, can you look over here?
”

The video brought back every memory. The paparazzi had covered all five hundred feet of
the red carpet outside the Kodak Theater. The pre-Oscar buzz had all culminated into that moment, where I stood with my gorgeous wife on my arm, smiling at the flashing cameras all around me.

I tried to re
member back to those first days, almost seven long years ago, when I arrived in Los Angeles.

I slept in my truck for the first week as I pounded the pavement, searching for a job.

Any job.

The money that my grandfather had left me was dwindling, and I needed some luck- fast.
The owner of
Pump
, a popular gym on the outskirts of Hollywood, happened to be crossing the parking lot at the same time that
I
decided that I needed to find a shower- and
fast
. When I asked how much it’d cost just to use their facilities, he stopped walking, turning to stare at me from beside his Porsche.

“Are you homeless, kid?”

“I prefer jobless,” I answered with as much dignity as possible. He smirked, shifting his laptop bag over his shoulder.

“You prefer jobless…” he laughed at that, nodding toward
Pump
. “Are you looking to remedy that situation?”

I raised my eyebrows,
looking at the gym. “Absolutely.”

“
You work out?” he asked, nodding to my arms.

“I did
back home. A little.”

“You willing to bulk up, work with the ladies? I have a feeling you’ll bring in some new faces,” he added.

I tried not to feel objectified by this man who, quite possibly, was my future meal ticket. I grinned as winningly as I could, crossing my arms over my chest.

“I’ll do whatever the job entails
- if it’s steady.”

He snorted at that, extending his hand. “
Frank Rickston.”

“Keaton,” I replied, my mind darting through the names that I’d toyed with over the last week. “Thane. Keaton Thane.”

“You’re going places, kid,” he replied, nodding to my beat-up pickup. “But not in that.”

I nodded toward his Porsche, grinning. “Want to trade?”

He laughed, a hearty chuckle that made me think that maybe-
maybe
- I’d found a friend. “No way. You’ve gotta earn it yourself. I’ll give you a chance, but I’m not doing you any favors.”

“I appreciate the opportunity, sir.”

He laughed again, clasping my shoulder with his strong arm. “We put a little muscle on you, the girls are gonna buy memberships just to watch you sweat.”

Against my better judgment, I shrugged. “Whatever it takes.”

“Well, it takes a shower, to start,” he replied, laughing.

Frank
gave me a space to sleep in above his office. The storage alcove had room enough for an air mattress, a small, overturned box to act as a table, and a newspaper. I hadn’t negotiated any pay- or actual job objectives- with Frank yet, but the monthly rent for the available apartments that I was finding in the ads would eat most of whatever I’d be making for sure.

By the end of my second week in LA, I realized that the room and the showers
were
my paycheck. I didn’t have an actual job; Frank let me hang around, use his facilities, and basically serve as a billboard for his gym.

But holy hell, he was right about the girls.

They came in droves to wherever I was in the gym, and at first, I took full advantage of the situation. When memberships tripled after my first month, I marched into Frank’s office with a list of available apartments.

He
glanced at the classifieds, and then back down at his laptop. “What, kid?”

“I need an apartment. I found three. Do I have a job here?”

Frank snickered, continuing to type. “You’ve got food, a place to shower and sleep, and you’re telling me you need an apartment.”

“Yes.”

“You getting pussy?”

I shrugged. “Yeah. But when I start turning them down, I’m pretty sure they won’t be as interested in coming here anymore.”

He scowled, lifting his eyes from the screen. “Kid, you’d still be living in that piece-of-shit pickup if it weren’t for me.”

“I didn’t say I was ungrateful. I said I needed an apartment.
You want me bringing in the clients, fucking them in the storage room? Classy.”

He sighed, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. “I’m not your pimp, Keaton. I’ve got some morals. This feels a little shitty to me. If you want to sleep with them, that’s up to you. I’m not keeping you here to do that. I’m paying it forward. Someone ga
ve me a chance when I got here to LA, and I’m doing the same for you.”

I eased up a little,
dropping the newspaper to his desk. “I appreciate that. And I plan to pay you back-
two
-fold- when I’m a successful director.”

He smirked, rolling his eyes.
“That’s not how it works. You pay if forward, not back. So when you’re Mr. Hollywood big-shot director, give someone a break. The break I gave you.”

“Fine. But I need an apartment.”

He shook his head, laughing his throaty laugh. “Fine. Pick one. It’s yours. Be conservative. I got college tuition for my girls to think about.”

I grinned. “You won’t regret it.”

The apartment was small but clean, and the location was the main reason I’d chosen the place. I was within walking distance of the Paramount production studio, and I planned to do everything that I could to make myself known there.

After two months at
Pump
, I was already getting stronger and putting on muscle. I ran every morning before breakfast, worked out twice a day (usually with gorgeous women eagerly watching my every move) and then finished the day with a work-out in my apartment.

In bed.

Frank was right; I had my pick of any woman I wanted, some married, some not. All gorgeous. I’d lied and told him that I was already twenty, so a couple of weeks before my nineteenth birthday, he was ready to shit a brick when I told him my actual age.

“You know these women are all too old for you, kid.
Fuck
. You ever lie to me again, I’ll kick your ass.”

I shrugged, digging my Pennsylvania driver’s license out of my wallet. “My last name is also Thorne, not Thane, but I trust you to keep that a secret.”

He glared at me, sitting back in his office chair. “Anything else I should know?”

I couldn’t respond. I could barely form words.

A girl knocked lightly on the window just outside his office. Her blonde hair was so thick, it fell in layers of spiraling white-gold over her shoulders, nearly reaching her hips.

Her tits were absolutely perfect
. Huge, heavy, mesmerizing.

“
Can I help you, young lady?” Frank asked, sliding his chair back to stand.

The girl walked through the open door, her bright, brown eyes grazing over me before she turned her attention back to Frank. She wore a white tank top, tiny white shorts, and her skin was evenly tanned.

“I’d like a membership.”

Her voice was husky. I guessed her to be maybe in her early twenties; not nearly as old as half the women that I spent bending and stretching
with each day.

“Of course. My assistant manager, Keaton, will get you all signed up.”

She bit her lower lip, and I had to practically leap behind Frank’s desk to hide my instant hard-on.

Assistant manager?

She turned to me, arching one perfectly manicured eyebrow and extending her hand.

“Kelsey King.”

“Keaton Thane,” I replied confidently, making sure to brush my thumb over the back of her hand as I shook it.

“I’m not quite twenty-one yet. Is there an age requirement?” she asked, purposefully waiting to release my hand a moment longer than I’d anticipated.

“For what, exactly?” I clarified.

She smirked. “A membership here.”

“Not at all, Miss King. Come on back, let’s get your contract together.”

“You’ll be handling me, then?” she clarified, glancing to Frank, and then back to me.

I turned on the charm, crossing my arms over my chest to purposefully flex my newly-formed biceps. “I could go a million ways with that comment… but I’ll just answer professionally. Yes, Kelsey, I’ll be handling you.”

She grinned, running her fingertip over her lip before slowly drawing a line down her throat.

“We’ll see.”

Holy.
Fuck
.

And we did. That afternoon, after the most detailed and extensive
orientation I’d ever given.

I had her up against the wall of the private shower, the hot water cascading over both of us as I drove into her. She arched her back and echoed my thrusts, and I growled, tightening my grip on her hair. With one yank, her throat was mine, and my teeth grazed her skin as she screamed my name.

She moved into my apartment with me that weekend, on my nineteenth birthday.

“Keaton?”
Kelsey’s voice called from the front door, jerking me from my thoughts.

I
pulled myself from my memories of the past seven years and paused the video on my iPad, lifting my eyes to watch her struggle with more than five shopping bags. “Can you help me with these, please, baby?”