We all burst out laughing. Elizabeth wipes her tears. “I have no idea if it’s true or not, but you better not tell anybody. People will start going through your filmography, trying to figure out who this woman is.”
“Don’t worry. I haven’t told a soul. Besides, her agent made everyone sign an NDA afterward. He was horrified.”
“If you signed a nondisclosure agreement, why are you telling us the story?” I ask.
He looks at me. “Because I have faith that you won’t repeat it.”
And for some insane reason, my insides turn all gooey and soft. I can’t remember why I thought it was a good idea to make him tell me why he could trust me as his assistant but not as his fiancée. Maybe he already knows at some basic level, even though he can’t articulate it.
“I swear I won’t tell,” I whisper.
“Neither will I.” Elizabeth blinks away the rest of the wetness from her eyes. “My god, you’ll never give me a penny if I do.”
Ryder snorts, but even the joking mention of what Ryder could possibly hold over her makes my gut tighten, reminding me of Mira’s threat.
“We should watch a movie or something,” Elizabeth says, stretching. “I bet you have stuff that isn’t in the theaters yet.”
Ryder’s lips twitch. “I might possibly.”
“Oh come on. Isn’t your latest in post-production? Don’t you have a copy?”
“I do, actually.”
“So let’s watch that one.”
He hesitates. “It’s, ah, pretty violent.” His gaze falls to my belly. “Totally not appropriate for babies, even if they’re still in the oven.”
I laugh. “I think it’s fine. It’s probably too young to hear anything.”
Bright fire lights in his eyes as he regards me, and my breath catches. It’s as sexual as any look he gave me when we made love, but there’s a complexity to it as well. Like he’s longing for something so bad it physically pains him.
And I feel like I’m the cause of that pain, and I want to pull him into my arms and promise to give him everything he needs so he won’t feel like that again. Of course that’s crazy. It’s not just his emotions at stake, but mine too. What I thought would be a simple and convenient arrangement is twisting me around until I’m not sure what I’m feeling anymore. All I know is that I’m in way way over my head, and if I’m not careful there may be damage I won’t be able to undo.
Not willing to dwell on my fears anymore, I paste on a smile. “Come on. Let’s watch it.”
* * *
Ryder
As a rule, I hate watching my own movies. It’s awkward to see myself up there, doing things that most people would never do for entertainment.
The screening room is built for comfort and has a recently upgraded surround system. The furniture inside is oversized, like we’re in a land of giants. I got the inspiration after staying at the Ritz one time in Thailand. Everything in that place looks like it was designed for elephants.
Paige hesitates, but takes the center couch, the one where we shared a pizza and made love, whispering our fantasies to each other. My blood sizzles at the memory, but I do my best to hide my reaction. Paige is skittish. I don’t have to be particularly sensitive to know that. And I want her to relax and laugh like she did in the sunroom. Her laugh is the reason why I agreed to watch the movie in the first place.
I sit next to her on the same couch. It’s so big that six more people could fit in as well. But my sister takes another one to our right. She gives me a “you owe me” look, and I answer that with a “how big of a check do you want?” look.
The movie is all slick action, with some sizzle thrown in with a hot new actress from Portugal. It’ll never get me nominated for an Oscar, but it’s great for sheer escapist fun, and I liked making it.
As the movie goes on, Paige relaxes. She gasps and laughs and yells, “No way!” when the bad guy escapes about halfway into the story despite my most valiant on-screen efforts.
I roll her hair around my finger and breathe in her sweet scent. As much as I like Mira, I want to kill her for showing up when she did and ruining the moment in the office.
Paige leans closer, and soon enough she’s cuddling by my side, her legs folded under her in that double-jointed way women have. I put my arm around her back. Her soft curves fit me perfectly, and I start wanting more than a cuddle. I skim my hand over her bare arm. She shivers, but doesn’t move away. Desire simmers in my blood, and I want to hold her and make her come the way she did before in this room. I want her legs spread, her pussy glistening, and I want to hear her scream my name and rake her nails down my back as she falls apart over and over again. I want to remind her of the kind of sharp pleasure I can give her, how much she belongs with me so she won’t ever shut me out again.