Filthy Beast(55)

“Why didn’t you?” I ask him as he presses my chest against the wall. I feel his hands tug at my jeans, pulling them down over my hips, and I know why.

“Because I want to come inside this tight cunt, that’s why.”

He gets my jeans and my panties down but leaves them around my knees. I’m defenseless and exposed as he bends me over and grabs me by the elbows, pulling them back, flexing my chest.

I feel him slide himself inside of me, not wasting a second. We have to get back to work soon, and the set is crawling with crew. Anyone could stumble back on us at any time, and that would be a big freaking deal. But I don’t care, not even a little, as his thick cock slides inside of me.

He fucks me rough and fast, knowing what needs to be done. “This pussy is the reason I’m here,” he whispers. “Fucking you is all I need. Fuck the movies, fuck everything. You’re what I need, Tara girl.”

I moan and half-turn to kiss him. Our lips touch as he presses deeper, pumping into me, rocking my whole body. We’re being as quiet as possible but soft, strangled moans escape my lips. I’m starting to sweat, but I don’t care at all.

He rips into me faster as pleasure rocks through my whole body, tingling my skin and my toes. I gasp as he bites my lip and presses me back against the wall, fucking me rough. I back my hips up and slam against his cock, taking him as deep as possible, because I need it so badly.

As the orgasm builds, I know I can’t stop it. Not after everything that’s happened between us. I need to come with him, need to feel him come inside of me. I gasp as it peaks and suddenly explodes through me, the orgasm ripping through my limbs.

I can feel him coming too, his cock shooting deep inside of my pussy in thick spurts. I gasp and moan, dripping and ready for him. I want him buried inside of me, I want to feel him dripping out of me later today.

Slowly we finish together and he turns me around, kissing me deep and slow.

We get dressed in silence then. He leans up against me, pulling me close.

“What do we do?” I ask him in a whisper.

“I don’t know. But let’s just enjoy this, right here, at least for now.”

I nod my head and breathe his smell in deep. He’s right, we don’t know what’s going to happen from here. And maybe I’m being stupid, letting myself fall back into this like I am, but I can’t help it. Everything he’s said, everything he’s done, I can’t help but start to see that it’s all sincere. It’s all real.

That’s Jackson. He’s the most real man I’ve ever met. Nothing is an act with him, even though he’s an actor. Nothing is fake. What he says, he means, and he doesn’t play games. He made a mistake so many years ago, when we were dumb kids, but he did it for a noble reason. He sacrificed his life for his family.

I admire that. I really, really do. I wish he had told me back then, because maybe I would have helped him out. I don’t know if we could have worked together with him in the military, but at least I could have helped his family as much as possible. Instead, I totally ignored them, and I do feel a little guilty now.

It’s not his fault. We’re just two kids that got screwed. But now he’s back and he’s trying to make up for it.

I want things to work. I want him to take me to all the places I’ve been too scared to go. For now, I’m letting go and giving in to him.





27





Jackson





Mickey lives in the same house that all these Hollywood assholes do. It’s big, it’s white, and it’s fancy as hell. It’s even a little over the top and absurd, but that’s what they want.

It’s all show. It’s all bullshit.

I’m angry and I won’t deny it. I know it’s stupid to show up at his house like this, with his wife and his kids here, but I’m not waiting anymore.

I kept my mouth shut all day. I did my scenes and kept working. But I didn’t stop thinking.

I ring Mickey’s bell and a minute later, his wife answers the door. She’s thin, pretty, with auburn hair and full lips.

“Jackson,” she says, a little surprised.

“Hey, Marla.” I kiss her cheek. “Is Mickey around?”

“Sure, he’s out back by the pool. Come on in.”

“Thanks so much.”

I follow her through the house. Mickey brought me here when he first signed me. Back then, he sat me down on the couch in his living room, gave me a glass of whisky, and he asked me what family meant.

I told him family meant sacrifice and loyalty. He said he agreed. He said he’d sacrifice for me, and he’d always be loyal to me, if only I wanted to join his family. That wasn’t so long ago, but I bought his bullshit, utterly and completely. Maybe I’m stupid for being trusting, but you can’t get anywhere in this world without trusting some people. I thought Mickey was one of those people, but maybe not.