The Drazen World: Dominate (Kindle Worlds Novella) (7 page)

“Sit.” She pointed to the chair beside me. “You’re the mouthiest bitch I’ve ever met.”

I knew I was a mouthy bitch, and I considered her insult a compliment. I sat down, casually crossing one leg over the other and pretending to inspect grime beneath my fingernail. “Admit it. I’d make a perfect homicide detective.”

She laughed. “If you don’t give my director a fucking heart attack first. He said you punched him for refusing to give you the detective role.”

“That’s not why I punched him,” I growled. I was so angry, I was seeing red. That lying little prick.

She waved me off as if she was shooing a fly. “He was going to fire you this morning, but after I watched a playback of your stellar performance, I decided it would be a shame to waste good talent.”

Doubtful. She probably just wanted the honor of firing me herself.

I leaned forward, imagining my expression was so intense, it could peel the paint off the walls. “He tried to force me to give him a blowjob. I’m not sucking his dick for this part, just like I’m not kissing your ass when
you’re
the one who ran into
me
.”

One corner of her plump lip twitched before she flashed a cosmetically enhanced smile. “Isn’t that what you do best? Suck on married men’s dicks while their wives are getting Botox?”

I drummed my fingernails on the top of her shiny mahogany desk. “I don’t sleep with married men. I lied to piss you off.”

“It worked.” She grabbed a pen out of a drawer, squeezing it until her knuckles whitened. Then she slanted a sideways smile. Either that or her lips were due for a collagen boost. “But I’m glad to hear you don’t sleep with married men.”

I shrugged. “I wouldn’t knowingly.” I’d only slept with one married man that I knew of, a sailor I met my freshman year in college. I was dumb enough to believe the hot stud I’d been fucking didn’t have a wife and three kids back home until I read a text from his wife. I’d ended it right then and there, despite his reassurances he was about to file for divorce. 

The producer traced lazy circles on a blank piece of paper, stopping to leer at me from beneath her lashes. “Do you know Sebastian’s wife?”

“No, and I don’t care to,” I grumbled. “I’m not here to fuck him. I’m here to play a goddamn homicide detective.”

If the bitch was going to fire me, I wished she’d just get it over with.

She picked up a photograph off her desk. “Just so you know, I’m Sebastian’s wife.” She spun the photograph toward me. It was an image of her and Sebastian holding hands. She was in a modest, off-white wedding gown, and he was in a tuxedo. They were both shoeless and smiling on the beach. What a happy moment. Too bad it obviously hadn’t lasted.

“Oh!” I tried to erase the look of shock from my face, but I knew it was too late. She had to be at least twenty years older than him. Wow. I’d figured
her
as the gold-digger. Guessed I had my stereotypes reversed.  

“Sorry I haven’t been around much.” She tossed the pen on her desk. “I had to make funeral arrangements for my mother. She had a massive heart attack two days ago.”

“I’m sorry.” The fucker had been trying to get a blowjob while his wife was burying her mother? Wow. The guy had balls. I was so glad I’d smashed them.

“Shit happens.” She dabbed the edge of her eyes with a tissue before throwing it in a wastebasket. “The show must go on, as they say.” She pulled out her cellphone and hit a few buttons. “Sebastian,” she yelled into the speaker. “I need you in my office. Now.” She plastered on a cool smile while looking me over. “So you wanted the detective part, did you?”

I pulled back my shoulders, determined not to let her intimidate me. “I thought I had the part when Sebastian hired me.”

She waved a manicured hand at my elbow. “Did he know about your injury?”

“I told him about it during the callback audition.”

Her smile thinned. “I see.”

Suddenly, it all made sense. No wonder Sebastian had been so fascinated by my bag-attack story the day of my callback. His wife had probably already told him about the incident with the mouthy Latina and my empty threat to suck her husband’s dick.

Wow, Ariana. Insert foot in mouth.

I studied her features once more, this time from a different perspective. Here was a woman who’d obviously busted her ass, working her way up to television producer, only to be taken advantage of by a money-grubbing parasite who was more interested in getting his cock sucked by other women than in being a considerate husband.

“You can do better than him, you know?”

Her sculpted brows dipped beneath stiff bangs. “Is that so? Thank you.” She held out a hand. “I’m Johanna, by the way. Johanna Johnson.”

I shook her hand with a smile. “Ariana Alvarado.”

“Nice to meet you, Ariana Alvarado. I apologize for bumping into you.”

Wow. Progress. Maybe she’d even reimburse my copay, but I wasn’t holding my breath.

I let go of her hand when the door opened behind me and the sleazeball slipped inside. I knew he would try to stick to his story, which was hilarious, considering I had audio of the incident. There was no way he was hiding from the truth now. 

He walked with a confident swagger, then stopped as if he’d slammed into an invisible wall. He paled and then turned as red as an apple when he saw his wife and me casually sitting across from each other like we were old friends.

“What did you say to her?” His gaze darted from his wife to me.

I turned up my chin. “That I’m not sucking your dick.”

He made a weird face-fart noise, spittle flying off of his lips. “I never asked you to.”

“That’s right. You didn’t.” I looked directly at Johanna. “He pushed me to my knees and demanded I suck it.”

His lips pulled back in a snarl. “Lying bitch.”

“I’ve got it on audio,” I said to Johanna. “Would you like to hear it?”

She spoke through gritted teeth. “Would I ever.”

I pulled the phone out of my purse and tapped the screen.

As soon as Sebastian heard his voice, he lunged for my cell. 

“Hey!” I screamed and tossed the device to Johanna. Did he think I was a fucking idiot? I’d already saved a copy of the audio to my computer. I’d even sent the juicy parts to Savannah last night.

“Back up, Sebastian!” Johanna commanded.

He hung his head, whimpering like a pathetic puppy.

After the recording finished, Sebastian mopped his brow with the back of his hand. “I wasn’t serious.”

Johanna stood and pointed at the door. “Get the fuck out. You’ll be hearing from my lawyer.”

He spun on his heel and marched through the door like a child who’d just been sent to time-out.

Johanna faced the door for a long moment, then let out a shaky breath. She sat down with a stiff back. Folding her hands in front of her, she eyed me coolly. “Still think I fit your stereotype?”

I vehemently shook my head. “No.” All this time, I’d been concerned with her and the rest of Hollywood stereotyping me. The irony wasn’t lost on me.

“As you probably already know, I have a doctor who can fix that scar.” She scribbled on a notepad, then ripped out the page and handed it to me. “Here’s his number. Tell him to bill me.”

I folded the paper and put it in my purse. “Thanks.”

Her eyes hardened. “Oh, and I
did
get him to sign a prenup. I’m not that fucking stupid.”

Awkward. “Yeah, of course.”

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to find another director.” She waved me away. “You can take the rest of the day off. See you on Monday, Detective Garza.”

I
expelled a deep breath as I sat in my car, staring in stunned silence at the bouquet of red roses sitting on my porch.

Wow. What a fucking day.

I got out of the car, slamming the door shut behind me. My legs shook and my stomach churned as I walked up the porch steps. I needed a stiff drink and a good fuck. I wasn’t sure about the fuck, but I did have a big bottle of wine and a vibrator.

I steadied the vase on my hip while unlocking the front door. I set the bouquet on my kitchen table and then went back for my shopping bags and takeout. I’d spent the rest of the afternoon hitting the area retro thrift shops and flea markets to celebrate my promotion. I’d found a few really cute dresses and two pairs of fishnet stockings, but my biggest find had to be the vintage, shiny red pumps that made me feel like a pinup model.

Detective Garza was going to kick ass in style. 

No sooner had I sat down to my dinner and a tall glass of wine than I heard a knock on the door. I shouldn’t have been surprised to see my tall, hung, and gorgeous stud through the peephole.

I swung the door open wide, leaning against the frame with a smile. “Thank you for the flowers.”

His cheeks flushed, and he flashed a bashful smile. “You’re welcome.”

I clasped my hands together, practically jumping out of my new red pumps. “I got the detective part.”

“You did?” His smile lit up my world. “Wow, I’m happy for you.”

I bit my lip, coyly batting my lashes, thinking I’d rather fuck Brad than a vibrator. “Thanks.”

“Can I take you out to celebrate?”

I sighed, resting my head against the doorframe. “I’m tired, Brad.”

“I understand.” His pouty face was cuter than should be legal as he shoved his hands in his pockets.

I stepped back, sweeping an arm toward the kitchen. “I brought home Chinese takeout. There’s enough for two if you want to join me.”

He froze, a slight smile curving his lips. “I’d like that.”

After I poured him a glass of wine and scooped sweet and sour pork, and stir-fried noodles and broccoli onto his plate, I sat beside him.

I pushed my food around, my chest tightening as I struggled to find the right words. “I’m sorry for the way I acted last night.” I stared down at my plate, ashamed at the way I’d treated Brad. He’d been trying to help me, and I drove him away.

Brad set down his fork with a
clank
, reaching for my hand. “You shouldn’t be.” He squeezed my fingers before tracing my scar with his thumb. “I shouldn’t have pushed you.”

I sucked in a gulp of air, then blew out a shaky breath.
Now or never, Ariana.
“I was raped by my best friend’s dad the night of our high school graduation. He’d beaten her, and after she ran off, we all went looking for her.” Well, everyone except for Bud Boudreau. He’d stayed behind to drown himself in whiskey. “I went looking for her in the barn. She wasn’t there, but he was.”

“Ariana,” he ground out, squeezing my hand. 

I squeezed back, then downed several gulps of wine. “I don’t want to make a big deal out of it, okay?” My throat constricted, and I had to force out the words. “It’s just something I need to work through.”

His eyes turned to stone. “I hope the bastard is in jail.”

“He died a few months ago from prostate cancer.”

“A fitting end.”

I glanced at our joined hands, shifting uncomfortably. “I feel safer when we have sex my way.” 

“I’d never hurt you.”

I looked into his eyes through a watery haze as my heart slowly thudded to a stop. “I know.”

He cupped my cheek, wiping the tears away. “But I like sex your way.”

“You do?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” He pulled my hand to his lips, feathering a soft kiss across my scar. “I just feel bad you’re doing all the work.”

“I don’t mind.” My heartrate picked up, pounding out a wild staccato in my ears. He stroked my knuckles again, and my pussy swelled with need. 

His eyes lit up as he flashed a boyish grin. “Would you ever be willing to try something new?”

My libido screamed at me to accept his challenge, but something held me back. I wanted to. I really wanted to, but not yet. “Maybe one day, but not now.”

“That’s okay.”

Lust turned my brain to mush. “Can I refill your wine?”

“Sure,” he said with a wink.

I topped off our glasses. After we toasted to my new role, I tossed the wine back and then pulled him off the chair, wordlessly leading him to the bedroom. Hot damn, I was going to ride him so fucking hard tonight. 

* * *

I
tried something different this time, though not too risky. I let Brad sit up while I tied his arms behind him. Then I placed the blindfold over his eyes and proceeded to suck him senseless.

I swallowed his shaft as far as I could go, pleased when I fit over half his length down my throat. I coated his flesh with saliva, slurping up and down his rod like a piston pumping into a well-oiled engine. After bringing him close to climax several times, I finally slid a condom down his shaft and climbed on top of my big stud.

I let out a soft moan as I carefully slid down his length, my sex swallowing his thickness one agonizing inch at a time. I draped my arms around his neck as I went up and down. Gradually, my body accepted him, and I was able to slide onto him completely, our pelvises bumping in sweet satisfaction.

We moaned into each other’s mouths as I ground against him. Holy fuck, he felt so huge, so nice. I didn’t want this moment to end, but if I didn’t pull off him soon, I was going to combust. I showered his face and neck with kisses while fucking him harder, faster.

“Oh, Brad,” I cried and ripped off his blindfold before slipping my nightie over my head.

I wanted him to watch me come undone. I wanted him to see how much he pleased me, and I wanted him to know my orgasm belonged to him. I pressed my forehead to his, our sweat mingling as our bodies slammed together.

I shouted to the rafters when the first wave gripped me. I stilled against him, capturing his mouth in a passionate kiss as my pussy convulsed and squeezed him.

“Oh, baby, please,” he begged, nibbling my lip.

I moved my hips again, his cockhead coaxing another orgasm from me almost instantly as he surged inside me.

“Mmmm,” I purred. “Come in me, baby.”

He gasped and sputtered as I reached behind me, gently massaging his tight balls while his cock surged again.

“Fuck, Ariana! Fuck, fuck!”

I enjoyed watching his eyes roll back as he leaned against the headboard, spent. I released his balls and draped an arm over his shoulder, coming to a slow stop as blissful twitches coursed through me.