Brit Flick Sweethearts: A Rom-Com With Spanking (10 page)

The tears were
threatening to stage a comeback. “But it’s too late. He’s gone now,
he hates me.”

“He thinks you
don’t love him. He thinks you’ve been playing him. And I think I
know a way I might be able to help you. I owe you that much,
right?”

“Go on,” she
said warily.

She could
almost hear the smile in his voice when he spoke; “Well, here’s
what I’m thinking….”

CHAPTER
SIX

Oh my God,
this is
never
going to work
…

It has to
work
.

Doris hopped
nervously from foot to foot, shivering slightly in the October wind
that whipped up the surrounding sea into a frenzy. Although the
fact she was trembling had little to do with the encroaching winter
weather and the freezing cold, salt water spray that sliced her
face and stung her eyes.

He’s late, he’s
not going to come, I’m making a fool of myself. Why, oh why did I
let Jeremy convince me this was a good idea?

Tucked under
her armpit was a copy of the newspaper with the article in it. She
didn’t need to read it again. She knew every damn word by
heart.

She leaned on
the railing at the end of Brighton Pier and gazed out to the choppy
sea, the words of the article bright in her mind:

A Letter To
Curt, From Doris Dean.

Dearest Curt. I
am sorry I lied to you. I was never meant to fall in love with you.
I was only meant to step into my sister’s shoes while she was
recovering.

But I did fall
in love with you, and before I knew it I was in way over my head. I
mean, why would a film star with Hollywood and the world at his
feet want with an introverted, lowly, romance writer that lives in
a tiny, rural village? Our lives could not be more different.

Even though my
sister’s life is most definitely not for me, a small part of me,
that is, the part that had fallen in love with a film star, was so
swept up in the moment and didn’t want the fantasy to end. Had I of
told you the truth, I would’ve broken my sister’s trust, and I
believed you would have wanted nothing more to do with me.

Why have I
announced this to the world, you may well be asking? Is this some
kind of publicity stunt on behalf of my sister? No, it isn’t. I
don’t want you to read the story of us in the press where it might
become twisted out of all proportion. I don’t want you to read
about how you were played, how you were caught up in a game which
existed for the sole purpose of furthering my sister’s career. What
I am saying to you now is straight from the horse’s mouth, so to
speak.

Because I love
you, Curt Gunner. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I
want you to turn your back on this ol’ thing called showbiz, and
live a long, boring life with me away from the public glare…

But the
question is, will you still have me? If your offer still stands, if
you can find it in your heart to forgive me, I will be waiting for
you at the end of the place where the sea meets the sky. The place
I mentioned in our most intimate moment when I said what I said and
you didn’t say it back….

Forgive me, my
darling. I love you. Meet me at that place at noon on the last day
of the month if you want to be with me.

Doris xx

“Hello
Doris.”

The voice was
familiar and close to her heart, but not the one she was expecting
to hear. She spun round in confusion.

“Dahlia? What
the hell are you doing here?”

Doris was in
turn mortified and deeply uneasy that her twin had turned up.

“Oh, I just
thought I would pop along and say hi. Nice article. Jeremy must
have pulled a lot of strings to get you that slot. Funny, I always
thought he was
my
agent.”

“He still is.
How did you even know I was here?”

“Oh, please.
Where the sea meets the sky? It’s what we used to call the end of
Brighton Pier when we were kids, remember? What the fuck else could
it possibly mean? Why did you do that to me, Doris?”

“Do what?”

“Write that
article. Must you insist in continuing to humiliate me this
way?”

“How am I
humiliating you? I tried to
help you
, remember?”

“He was
supposed to be
mine,
you
stole
him from me.”

“You can’t lose
what you never had in the first place.” She knew that was bitchy,
but damn it, she was so mad at her sister right now. “Why aren’t
you filming ‘Death Car,’” she asked, as if that would somehow
soften her last statement.

It was then she
noticed that she wasn’t looking her usual glamorous, polished self,
either. She wore a cosy, dark jumper and a pair of faded levis.

She never
normally dresses like that. In fact, she’s dressed like me
… Her
blood ran cold.
Oh God, what if she’s purposely dressed like me
and has already intercepted Curt?

“Filming has
been postponed until they can find a new leading man. It would
appear that Curt really isn’t coming back. You managed to ruin that
for me as well. So after I read your article, I figured he might
show up here.” She smiled wryly. “And would you believe I ran into
him just now?”

Nonchalantly
she studied her nails and Doris fought down a sudden rise of
nausea.

“Oh my God,
Dahlia, what have you done?” she whispered.

“I told him
thank you very much for turning up, and that you wrote the article
just so you could persuade him to get back to filming. Because you
love your twin and you would do anything to make it right with her
again.”

“And he
believed that?”

“Why wouldn’t
he?”

“Because it’s
nonsense. Because it makes no sense.”

“He seemed to
believe me. He just turned around and walked away.”

“I
love
him, Dahlia.”

“You stole him.
He was mine.”

Why am I still
standing here?

Her paralysis
broke and her feet no longer felt welded to the slatted, wooden
floor of the pier.

“Where are you
going?” Dahlia called out to her, but Doris had already run past
the helter-skelter and was weaving her way through the wooden huts
that housed fortune tellers and the like that had shut down for the
winter.

When she got to
the arcade that was still open, a voice called out to her.

“Of all the gin
joints in all the towns in all the world… Hello baby.”

She screeched
to a halt and spun round so fast she almost gave herself
whiplash.

“Curt!”

She was too out
of breath to elaborate, and tears felt dangerously close. It just
felt so good seeing him. It felt like coming home.

“Not for a
second did I mistake Dahlia for you. Now I know you’re twins, I can
spot the difference a mile off.”

“You came,” she
said stupidly, trying to catch her breath.

“Yeah. I did. I
thought perhaps that you and your sister might need a little alone
time, though. Seems she read the article too.”

“Yeah, seems
she did.”

“She needs
help, sweetheart. The day I proposed to her, or rather
you,
I caught her snorting coke straight after.”

Doris’s heart
sank. “Oh, Dahlia,” she said sadly.

“We’ll help
her, baby. We’ll get her clean, I promise.”

“We?”

He smiled his
famous, Curt Gunner smile and his whole face cracked open. The
entire scene felt unreal. He was just so impossibly handsome. The
wind whipped up his dark blonde hair and his blue eyes sparkled. He
pulled his light overcoat more tightly around his broad chest, and
something snapped inside of her. She figured it was the love she
felt for him, spilling out of her all at once and she ran into his
arms. The air left him in a rush, and she felt his strong arms
circle her, drawing her close.

His kiss left
her dizzy and tears prickled her eyes.

“I love you so
much,” she said, squeezing him even harder.

Without
warning, he dropped to bended knee and pulled out a little blue box
from his pocket.

“Doris Dean,”
he said, flicking open the lid to reveal a diamond ring. “Will you
do the honour of being my wife?”

“Yes,” she
choked out, half sobbing, half laughing.

“I love you so
much, baby. From now on it’s just you and me,” he said, springing
to his feet and bending her backwards in a Hollywood style
cinch.

The sound of a
throat clearing behind them caused them to pull apart. Dahlia stood
staring at them, her face one of abject misery.

Still keeping
his arm around his fiancé, Curt turned to face Dahlia.

“Fancy a lift
back to London, sister-in-law?” he asked with the gentlest of
smiles.

Doris held her
breath and waited for her twin to answer. After a second or two,
her face crumpled, and ever so slightly, she nodded.

Doris breathed
a sigh of relief.

I really
love him,
she tried to convey with her gaze.

I know,
Dahlia silently replied with another, faint nod of her head and
tears in her eyes.

“You’ll let us
help you?” Doris tentatively asked.

Again, she
nodded.

Curt pulled his
fiancé close and the three of them walked down Brighton Pier to a
brand new future.

The End.

Thank you for
reading, dear reader. Like I said in my introduction, as much as I
adored writing it,
Brit Flick Sweethearts
is a huge
departure for me. I am known for my dark erotica. We are not
talking about a little bit of bondage here, we are talking
dark
. If you would like to find out more, I have enclosed
the first chapter of my novel,
In The Arms of The Devil
. But
I must warn you, the following story is not for the faint-hearted.
It is the darkest exploration of love and lust and it will take you
to the blackest place imaginable. If dubious consent sex and very
very
bad men offend you in fiction, then please do not read
on. If this sounds like your kind of read, then I welcome you into
my world of dubious consent sex, hardcore BDSM, submissive females
and ruthless men. Hold on tight, it’s about to get rough…

IN THE ARMS OF
THE DEVIL: A DARKLY EROTIC NOVEL

“
Can I buy
you a drink?”

He was perfect,
just my type. Tall, broad shouldered and slim waisted. Longish dark
hair. Icy blue eyes. Killer smile. Oh yes, he would do fine.

“
Sure. I’ll
have an orange juice.”

He raised one
thick, sexy eyebrow.

“
A woman,
alone in a bar, not drinking?”

“
I’m not
here for the booze.”

“
What are
you here for?”

“
I’m
waiting.”

“
For
what?”

“
For you to
fuck me.”

I expected some
kind of a reaction, but he didn’t even flinch. Instead he drew up a
bar stool next to mine.

“
Are you a
hooker?”

“
No, I’m
just horny.”

As I said it I
swivelled around on my stool so I was facing him and opened my
legs. I was wearing a short skirt, stockings and no knickers. I
watched his face blanch, the way his eyes widened and the pupils
dilating so much his blues eyes turned black. His gaze fixing on my
cunt like that made me really wet and my clit ache to be
touched.

“
You are a
very naughty girl.”

“
I want it
now,” I said, discreetly and fleetingly putting my hand between my
legs and allowing myself a teasing hard rub of my clit before
inserting my finger into my wet hole.

I closed my
legs and leaned over to brush his hair out of his eyes and let him
sniff my fingers. He groaned and grabbed hold of my wrist,
hard.

“
I hope you
know what you’re doing, sweetheart. I don’t play nice.”

“
Neither do
I. Darling,” I said, mimicking his patronising, insolent
tone.

He stood up,
and I did too. Without speaking another word I followed him through
the
crowded bar and out into the car park. He lead me to a
parked van which was backed onto the high wall. A perfect hiding
spot.

He shoved me
against the stone wall and pinned my wrists above my head with one
hand and yanked my skirt up to my waist. He jabbed a finger inside
of me and rubbed hard on my clit with his thumb.

A wave of pure
lust so strong came over me I swear I saw stars flashing behind my
closed eyes. I opened them and looked down to see him jabbing three
fingers in and out of me like a piston.

“
Arghh,
God,” I groaned, writhing at the intense, hurting pleasure.

Then both his
hands were on my tits, my pussy left empty and desperate and
throbbing. He squeezed and kneaded them, ripping open my delicate
silk blouse, the buttons scattering to the wind. My bra was yanked
up so my tits hung underneath the wire. He pushed them up and
together, bending over to suck and bite on my nipples.

I was aching to
be fucked and I fumbled for his belt, tugging down the zipper of
his jeans and freeing his hard cock…

“Honey? Would
you like a cup of tea?”

Rose jumped
guiltily, fingers skidding over the keyboard so cock became
cockkkkllll.

“Yes please,”
she called out, her heart beating fast at the interruption.

Relax, she told
herself. It’s not like he knows what you’ve been writing. She
didn’t like to admit to herself her heartbeat was also up because
she was turned on by Daisy’s adventures.

“Shall I bring
it up?” her husband shouted from the bottom of the stairs.

“No, no,” she
hastily called back, clicking on save. “I’m coming down.”