WE pulled up behind the tiny boutique located in a quiet residential street and hurried inside. Tash and Benny, the flamboyant fashion-designing duo, had closed the store especially for us, a concession that made me uncomfortable until I pictured the alternative—photos of Nathan dress shopping in Beverley Hills splashed all over the internet in a viral storm. It was the lesser of two evils and I wanted to be red-carpet ready. For him.
The last time I’d accompanied him to a high-profile event, I’d been focused on deflecting heat away from my family—playing fancy dress with a Hollywood icon of whom I knew little outside of what I’d read in magazines.
Now I was contemplating turning my life upside-down and deliberately exposing my private life to the world for a chance at a relationship with him.
Tash guided me to rack after rack of exquisite gowns, questioning me on my preferences of style and colour. Jess would have loved it, and I missed my friend who’d only been gone a couple of hours. When I had a decent number of maybes, I moved into the tiny changing room.
I paraded each dress for Nathan, his heated eyes assessing them from his place sprawled in an armchair outside the dressing room. After the fifth gown, we were still undecided.
‘Soph, try this one.’
I peered out of the changing room, taking the garment he offered. He was well versed in red-carpet etiquette and I trusted his opinion.
‘I think you’ll look amazing in it.’ His eyes sparkled with challenge and something darker.
The sheath of black satin was skin-tight and hugged the curves of my hips and backside like a lover’s caress. A simple scooped neckline and short capped sleeves preserved the modesty of my ample bust, without being too revealing. Tiny beaded flowers were dotted here and there over the dress, softening it with a touch of romantic whimsy. It was perfect, and one glance at Nathan’s appreciative stare confirmed we’d found the one.
He clapped, startling Tash, and urged me back into the changing room. ‘I think we’ve found it. Tash, Benny, thank you so much. Could you please package it all up, including the shoes and accessories you think will complement Soph? My assistant will collect everything from you this evening.’
The urgency in his voice spurned me on to quickly but carefully slide the dress from my shoulders. That look on his face—it was the focus just before he lost control of his charming gentility and ravaged me in pursuit of our mutual delirium. The satin chafed at my oversensitive skin and my hands trembled as I struggled to pull on my jeans.
Once in the car, I was pressed back into my seat, Nathan’s hand cupping my sex as he riled me up with a series of desperate kisses. ‘You looked so fucking hot in that dress. I was tempted to pay Tash and Benny to leave so I could fuck you in it in front of their mirrors.’
Heat pooled in my panties as his words fast-tracked my libido. My mouth, occupied with his kisses, longed to agree—it sounded like an excellent idea.
The shrill ringtone of Nathan’s phone interrupted our session. He pulled away. ‘We’ll take a rain check on that dress and the mirrors.’ His crooked smile and smouldering look prolonged the fizz of lust in my blood, and I exhaled a long breath in an attempt to control my raging hormones.
As I fumbled with my seatbelt, Nathan answered the phone, his tone so clipped I pitied whoever was on the other end of the call. My heart rate slowed to manageable levels and I flipped down the visa to repair the damage done to my hair and makeup by Nathan’s hands and mouth.
‘Fuck. Brilliant!’ Nathan slapped the steering wheel. ‘Thanks for letting me know. No. I’ll be in touch.’ He disconnected the call and stared out of the windshield at the deserted parking lot. A muscle ticked in his jaw and his hand clutched the hair at the nape of his neck.
Whatever bad news he’d received doused the last of my ardour, and I mourned the loss of an afternoon spent in bed. ‘What is it?’
He kept his eyes averted, starting the car and slamming it into gear. ‘My agent. I didn’t get the film. They gave it to an American with a track record in dramas. Fuck.’ The steering wheel took a second battering.
‘I’m sorry.’ My hands clutched each other in my lap as I took in the bitter disappointment of his stony countenance. I wanted to comfort him, but fearful of touching him while he drove angry, I searched for the right words instead. ‘Something else will come along, Nathan. You’re a phenomenal actor.’
His mouth twisted momentarily before he bit down on his bottom lip and squared his shoulders. Managing a smile, he said, ‘Thanks, beautiful. You’re good for my ego, but you’re the phenomenal one. That dress looked amazing.’ Shoving his feelings under his professional mask, he painted on his Hollywood smile, the flash of disappointment only obvious to the keen observer. Unfortunately for him, I observed him with almost fanatical enthusiasm and a pinching sensation settled under my ribs as I sought a way to help him.
The traffic thinned as we made our way back into the hillside suburbs. ‘What would be your dream role, if you could choose anything?’ I stroked his leg and he dropped the hand closest to me from the wheel, covering my hand on his denim-clad thigh and squeezing my fingers.
‘Free to choose? That’s an intriguing idea.’ He sighed, lifting my hand to his mouth to press his lips to my skin. ‘People have expectations of me—my fans, the industry. They want the Nathan Banks they think they know. The swoony romantic hero with the six-pack and the winning smile.’
The picture he painted was delicious and a big part of who he was. I’d experienced his romantic side and his six-pack and both had much to commend them.
‘Well I want him too, but I also want the rest of you. Who cares what they want?’ I hesitated, aware I might be crossing a line and fearing I’d sound preachy. ‘Why should you limit yourself? Look at Matty. The world places limits on him every day. But he doesn’t care. He does what he wants to do in his own way. His disability makes him unaware of most of the social norms the rest of us find crippling. I love that side of him—how amazing to be freed from a set of arbitrary restrictions.’ I soothed the words with firm, rhythmic glides of my thumb on his thigh.
‘It’s not that I care. But the money makers do, and the money makers drive the movies that are made.’
‘So take the money out of the equation. Work for free on a project you’re passionate about, produce your own work, think differently.’ My cheeks glowed—I had little knowledge of the movie industry, uncertain if such things were even possible. But my faith in his abilities was rock solid and, as always, I wanted to help. ‘Your fans will still be there—I’ve seen them screaming for you. You could be a pantomime dame and they’d still worship you.’
He slid his gaze sideways with a ‘don’t be silly’ twist of his mouth.
Ignoring him, I ploughed on. ‘Would you consider going back to the theatre?’
‘Huh, my father would love that—you’re starting to sound like him now.’ The warning was there, friendly enough, but a warning nonetheless.
‘I’m not taking his side—I’m one hundred per cent on your side, Nathan, and that’s why I want you to do what you want. If you want grittier roles, grab them, make it happen, show the haters what you can do.’
‘Are you trying to fix me, Doctor?’ His dimple flashed and the heat was back in his eyes. I’d missed it.
‘I would, in a heartbeat.’ I reached for his hand, brushing his scar with my thumb. The redness was fading—I’d done a good job. ‘But you don’t need fixing. Fuck the haters, Nathan. Don’t let them hold you down.’
I’d always be there to stitch him back together if he needed me, but I held back the confession, fearful my declaration was too much, too soon. For both of us.
‘Fuck the haters, eh?’ His mouth twitched as he pulled into the studio parking lot. ‘I’d rather fuck you, Soph.’
‘Well, lucky for you, that can be arranged. How long will this take?’ Nathan was shooting a luxury fragrance campaign that Tyler was directing.
‘Couple of hours.’
I’d toyed with the idea of returning to Los Feliz for a soak in the bath and a spot of packing, but I’d much rather watch Nathan, and he’d assured me it wouldn’t take long.
Part of the vast studio was furnished to look like a loft-style apartment. A large platform bed dominated the space, covered with artfully rumpled white bed linens, while soft gauzy drapes billowed at the windows, blown by an unseen wind machine.
I waved at Tyler who glanced up from a computer monitor and smiled. I wandered over to sit with him, accepting introductions to the shoot’s photographer and stylist.
After thirty minutes in hair and makeup, Nathan emerged wearing a black tuxedo with a loosened bow-tie looking slightly dishevelled—just the way I liked him. His hair was messy in that just-crawled-out-of-bed way and the tux fit him perfectly, showcasing his broad shoulders and muscular backside.
My mouth watered and I squeezed my thighs together. Glancing my way, Nathan winked before returning his attention to Tyler, who gestured at the set.
An exquisite model with flawless golden skin and long jet-black hair walked in, joining the men on set. Tyler introduced her as Tia. She was breathtaking—her large eyes were smoky and slightly smudged, as if she’d had a hard night of partying, which lent her an air of vulnerability that softened her overall look and added to her appeal.
So this was a dual campaign—moody black-and-white shots of an impossibly beautiful couple designed to persuade us mere mortals that if we bought this fragrance, we too could have effortless glamour.
Under Tyler’s direction, Tia and Nathan moved to stand in front of the bed and began to almost kiss and caress each other like lovers. Every tiny movement was prescribed, almost clinical and analytical. The objective doctor part of my brain rationalised this as an act—a play where the characters donned their costumes and played a role to someone else’s script.
But Nathan’s beautiful hand on the curve of Tia’s hip was almost too much for me to witness.
Cooing encouragement, the photographer gave directions I was sure were specifically designed to torment me—‘Bite his lip again, Tia’, ‘Nathan, clutch the strap of her dress like you want to rip it off’, ‘Grab his ass, honey’.
When Tia pressed her face to Nathan’s bare chest, her sultry eyes turned to the camera, acid flooded my throat. I tried to focus on the murmured conversations of the technicians around me, but I knew exactly what she was experiencing. From my position across the room, I could smell his skin and feel his soft chest hairs on my cheek. I longed to be in her place. To tell everyone to leave so I could kiss him for real, rub myself over him, claim him as mine.
‘Tyler says you’re a doctor?’ One of the lighting guys introduced himself, drawing me away from the insanely possessive turn of my thoughts. ‘Josh.’
I nodded, brightening my smile and shaking his outstretched hand. ‘Sophia.’
‘Which hospital do you work at?’
‘I start at St Mildred’s in London in two weeks—paediatrics.’
‘Kids, right?’
I nodded, my attention drawn to Tyler and the photographer who were reviewing the last few frames on the monitors.
Josh moved to adjust the spotlights closest to the bed. Tia now lay sprawled on the white sheets with an open-shirted Nathan leaning over her. She said something and he smiled down at her in an unguarded moment. It lasted only a brief second before the photographer ordered Nathan to run his open mouth over Tia’s shoulder, but the slam of envy knifed me to the hilt.
How could anyone ever get used to this? Yes, I could see how structured this was, everyone here working towards the perfect shot for the client. There were at least ten people in the room, which housed an array of technical equipment and props. Despite the sterling job Tia and Nathan did to produce images that would ooze glamour and sensuality once printed on the pages of a glossy magazine, it was far from sexy.
But physical intimacy was physical intimacy. To most people, touching a stranger’s hand on the bus was too close for comfort. Could actors really detach sufficiently from their work to be immune to the feelings touching another human being that way would surely invoke? There had to be a reason so many co-stars hooked up during working together. Doctors married other doctors or nurses because they understood each other’s work and the pressures involved. Could you really make out with someone and not get turned on? Wasn’t it a natural physiological reaction we were evolved to experience?
‘Awesome, eyes to camera, Nate.’
The skin of my shoulder tingled, the nerves there firing as if his lips had made contact with me instead of Tia. Could I ever grow accustomed to this? Was I overreacting? Being with Nathan was an emotional rollercoaster of amazing highs and petrifying lows, but was I strong enough to withstand the ride?
My possessiveness shocked me—I didn’t want anyone else to experience the smoothness or fragrance of his skin. I didn’t want to share him with the world—I was greedy for the rock climbing, compassionate Nathan who made me laugh, but he came packaged up with the other Nathans and they kissed beautiful women for a living.
I sagged with relief when Tyler said, ‘Let’s take a break.’
Nathan stood and offered Tia a hand up from the bed. He shrugged his shirt back onto his shoulders and she righted the beaded strap of her gown which, seconds ago, had been clutched in Nathan’s hand.
I turned back to Tyler, shielding my insecurities from the man I was falling in love with. A warm hand gripped my elbow and I turned to him, knowing from the feel of his skin on mine that it was Nathan. I brazened a brave smile, choking back the rock in my throat on a tight swallow.
Nathan’s face was a mask of neutrality, but his eyes sparked with fire as he led me from the studio.
‘Nate? I need a word,’ said Jake, skipping after us. I hadn’t even registered he was here.
‘Not now.’ Nathan didn’t even face his assistant, his back tense and his strides lengthening as he pulled me towards his dressing room.
Before the door closed, he was on me, backing me up against the door, his mouth covering mine with a ferocity that mirrored the possessive cling of my lips to his. His hand cupped my sex as I pushed the un-buttoned shirt from his shoulders. He’d need to have his makeup reapplied and his hair re-tousled because my fingers gripped his face and clumps of his hair with bruising force. I was wild—a bitch in heat staking her claim on her man.
Nathan pushed me up the door, hitching one of my thighs over his hip as the grind of his erection took the place of his hand. I pulled his hair, tilting his head back even as my other hand clung to his bare shoulder, keeping him close. ‘You smell of her.’ I willed my muscles to switch from pulling to pushing, but I was powerless against the desperation of my need for him.
‘Fuck, I’m sorry.’ He winced, his features twisted with something close to anguish and he buried his face in my neck, sucking a lungful of air in through his nose. ‘I’m so sorry.’
His mouth caressed the parts of my skin he could reach, sucking, licking, marking.
‘Why?’ My voice was a croak, my mouth dry with need.
‘I shouldn’t have asked you to come. I’m sorry.’
Determined to brazen this out, I hid my anguish behind bravado. ‘I’m okay. Unless you’re going to tell me you were this hard for her on that bed.’
He pulled back, his eyes venomous. ‘Don’t! Don’t fucking joke about it.’ Lowering me to the ground and my wobbly legs, he turned away, his hand torturing his hair. He braced his hands on the desk, his head hung while his breaths gusted in and out in harsh pants.
‘Nathan?’
His anguished gaze flew to mine, fire sparking in the emerald depths. ‘I saw you. Talking to the lighting guy.’
I almost laughed. ‘What?’
‘Was he flirting with you? I’ll get him fired.’
‘Are you insane?’ My hands clenched to fists at my sides. ‘I was making half-hearted conversation with some guy whose name I can’t even remember while you were dry-humping Tia and you’re jealous? Do you even realise how ridiculous that is? Can you even imagine what it would be like to stand and watch me roll around on that bed with him? Press my mouth to his bare chest? Bite his lip?’
With each of my questions Nathan paled a little more, but I gleaned little satisfaction in it, too furious in my indignation.
His whole body stiffened, his knuckles whitening. ‘I’d fucking hate it. That’s why I’m sorry I brought you here today. It was fucking stupid. I couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t stop looking for you. I kept thinking of you in my position. Even knowing it’s work. I visualised you on the bed with another man, and I could barely hold on to my stomach contents.’
He did indeed look a little green and relief bubbled up inside me to know I wasn’t alone in the depths of my feelings. I pushed away from the wall, eager to touch him, to comfort and reassure him or maybe myself.
A loud rap at the door halted me.
‘Nate? Ready for you in five.’ Jake’s voice was hesitant from the other side of the door.
‘Fuck.’ Nathan strode to me, pulling me to his chest with crushing force. ‘I’m sorry. I’m an idiot. I thought if you saw how we do this it might reassure you. But all it’s done is show me how much I’d hate it if the roles were reversed.’
I clung to his solid bulk, filling my senses with him, albeit tainted with a whiff of Tia. I understood all about being professional and he had a job to complete here, as much as I hated the idea.
‘How much longer do you have to work?’ I ran my fingers through his hair, still sticky with product and not its usual soft silkiness.
‘We probably have about another hour to shoot.’ His mouth was grim.
I nodded. ‘I’m going to go back to your place,’ I said, smoothing away the frown lines on his forehead with my fingertips.
He held me tighter.
‘You’re going to finish your job here.’ I tugged on his neck, bringing his head down so I could speak into his ear. ‘You’re going to think of me while you work.’ His hair brushed my lips as I pressed them to his ear. ‘And then you’re going to rush home to me.’ Sucking his earlobe into my mouth, I bit down gently. ‘I’m going to be waiting for you in your bed—naked.’
‘Soph,’ he groaned, brushing his lips over mine. When he pulled back to glare at me his eyes were hard, determined. ‘I won’t be long.’