Orlando (Blackmail #1) (6 page)

“It didn’t seem relevant at the time. To be honest with you, I was more concerned about myself than I was anyone else,” she responds.

Where did my sweet Neri go? Did I do this to her by not granting the divorce sooner? Did I turn her into this cold-hearted person speaking to me from the other end of the telephone? My ears can’t believe anything they are hearing. It almost makes me happy I’m granting her wish of a divorce if she is acting this way.

“I’ll fax the paperwork to your personal assistant. And to answer your question, Larry said it had everything to do with you not directing that film with him. He said it wouldn’t have failed if you had stayed on the project. Thus his reasoning behind our blackmail.”

I guess Larry is upset with his own failures. He shouldn’t need to attach my name to one of his projects for it to succeed. He should be able to be successful on his own without my help. Besides, the film was shit, not even theater worthy. Of course, I was not going to attach my name to it.

“Just fax me the damn paperwork. I’ll be getting a hold of you in a few weeks when we’re back in California so we can handle this mess you’ve created for all of us,” I demand in a stern, serious voice.

I don’t let her respond before swiping the off button. I have never been so pissed off in my life. I promised I would protect Friday for all of our lives, no matter if we have been distant for the past twelve years. She is still a critical part of my life. I wouldn’t be the man I am today if I hadn’t grown up with a friend like Friday.

I believe whom I grew up with and surrounded myself with helped shape me as the person I am now.

When I reach my cottage, I flop down in the hammock between two beautiful palm trees. In the dark of the night, the ocean breeze relaxes and relieves my senses as the wind sways the hammock back and forth.

I will fix this with Friday, and start by showing her my separation papers tomorrow after filming. And I’m going to fuck the shit out of her once she realizes she is all that I want from now on. She is who I’m going to spend the rest of my life with. It should have been Friday from day one. This is one of those scenarios where marrying and falling in love with the best friend should have happened. We should have been together from the get go.

My mouth splits into a huge grin with thoughts of making Friday all mine and only mine. She isn’t going to know what hits her tomorrow night.

***

Chapter Seven

Friday

Filming has been awkward all day long. Orlando barks orders and nothing is to his liking. I thought maybe his rants and raves to reshoot this scene and the next were because Neri and I hid this blackmail scheme from him, but again, I wouldn’t peg Orlando to be so vindictive.

“Goddamnit, Friday, what the fuck is wrong with you? You’re delivering your lines like shit,” he roars and throws the script down on the ground like an adolescent child not getting his way.

“Maybe you’re acting like an asshole, and I like pissing you off today,” I scream back and then cover my mouth with my hand. I never talk like this. Cursing is a rare thing for me. Look what he is making me do.

Orlando kicks at his chair, cursing to himself before demanding his next orders. “That’s a wrap for the day, everyone. Be back here at seven in the morning,” he screams while throwing his headset down onto the filming monitor.

“Friday, get your ass back home. I’ll be there to discuss what we talked about last night,” he says in a loud whisper as he storms past me.

Oh great.

After the day he made us all have, he is the last person I wish to see when the workday is over and done. Who wants to be yelled at all day and all night long? No one, that is who. Because he has known me my entire life, he thinks he reserves the right to call on me at any moment’s notice. What a butthead.

If he were any other man, I wouldn’t give him the time nor the day, but he is Orlando. My one and only true love. My best friend and maybe the one person who can makes things happen to clean up this mess I’ve been stupid enough to find myself in.

I walk to my dressing room, strip from my slutty clothes, throw on yoga pants and a small tank top, and slip on some ballerina flats. These will be quick and easy to get out of back home. I’m anxious to shower off the skank that has latched itself on my skin. I hate the feel of some strange man’s sweat slathering my body. It is disgusting and makes me feel like a cheap slut. Now that Orlando has pointed out all the wrongs of why I’m doing this stupid porn, I find myself questioning all my morals.

What self-respecting woman does this to herself? Me, that is who. I have more than screwed up, it is beyond clear to me.

I take a company car back to my cabin. I would have walked if I weren’t so dead set on washing this nasty man’s sweat off my body.

I unlock the front door, kick it shut with the heel of my foot, and trudge straight towards my shower while I strip from my clothing. Throwing each piece to the floor as it comes off, I march to the bathroom. I reach into the stall of the shower and turn the water all the way to hot. I want to scald the dirty from my body.

I step into the steam and let it flow over my skin. I dump more than half of my body wash into the palm of my hand and rub it all over myself. Then I pick up my loofah brush and scrub my skin until it is raw and almost bleeding red. Shampoo and condition are next, and once I’m satisfied germs no longer cover me, I turn the water off. As I step out, I wrap one towel around my body and tie one up in my hair.

I hear shuffling in the living room and curse myself for not locking the front door. I know who it is without calling out to ask. Only one person would not respect my boundaries, and that is Orlando.

“You could’ve knocked,” I yell from the bathroom.

“Yeah, but I didn’t.” He chuckles.

At least he is laughing and not yelling back at me. I have had enough of all of that. Orlando yelling at me is the last thing I ever want. He is a gentle, loving man, one I always want to please, but not let walk all over me at the same time.

I open the bathroom door, take a deep breath, and walk out to where he is. He smiles when he views my state of undress. A bath sheet is all that covers my naked body, and that thought alone tickles my insides. I want him so bad. If only I knew for a fact that he was getting a divorce, and as my thoughts trickle, he gestures to the desk in my living room.

“Take a look,” he says with a sexy smirk.

I trudge over to my desk, and a shocked sound comes from my mouth as I read the title on the thick mound of paperwork.
Separation papers.
I don’t even pick them up. I turn back around with quickness, tears forming in my eyes.

“What does this mean, O,” I ask, my voice shaking.

He walks towards me with a grin that would melt the panties off me, if I were wearing any.

“It means, I’m free to be all yours, if you will have me,” he whispers as he steps in front of me.

Have him? I would like nothing better than to have Orlando all to myself. What woman wouldn’t want him?

“You’re legally separated,” I whisper.

Oh my god! He is legally separated. I fling myself at him, wrap my arms around his shoulders, and slam my mouth onto his, moaning and crying in happiness at the feel of him against me. Orlando makes quick work at tossing me onto my desk, and he rips the towels from my body, our lips never separating. His hands shake as he works the zipper of his jeans. He exposes his cock, and I tear our lips apart so I can take a look.

“Hurry,” I plead as I get a good look at his massive erection.

“I’m trying,” he pants.

Over twenty years of attraction work us into the moment we are in now.

My hands reach up, tearing at his shirt. The buttons fly across the room as I bare his chest to my eyes. He is a vision exposed to me. When he enters me, a longing moan escapes my lips as he fills every inch of me. Nothing about his movements is slow. They are rushed, animalistic, as he claims me.

“You feel so fucking good,” he grunts as he pounds inside of me at a feverish pace.

My walls squeeze him as my back arches further, and my head pounds against the wall behind me. The desk squeaks as it moves across the wooden floor from his quick movements. I wrap my legs around him, pushing him deeper inside of me. His green eyes smile into mine. Orlando brings his mouth down to my right nipple, teasing it with his tongue as he builds a rhythmic tempo. A framed photo falls from the wall and shatters, and we laugh in happiness as we moan our release.

His mouth falls from my nipple, and he buries his head between my boobs as we both pant.

“You’re mine,” he growls and nips at my tits.

I run my fingers through his hair, wondering what is next in our future. With this film, the blackmail, and the hell that I think will come from it all.

“What next, O,” I whisper.

He lifts his head, peers up at me with half of a frown. “We get this blackmail shit under control and get on with our lives.”

All I can do is force a smile back at him.

***