Brit Flick Sweethearts: A Rom-Com With Spanking (3 page)

The flowing
champagne helped too.

“Darling, you
were amazing as the android,” said a face she recognised from TV
who was a very camp presenter.

“You’re too
kind,” she gushed back, allowing herself to be air kissed on each
cheek. “Playing a being with no emotion or thoughts of my own came
easily to me.”

The man
laughed. “You must do a spot on my show darling.”

As much as
Doris was holding her own, as glamorous as this all was, it really
wasn’t for her. Inside, she felt like a fish out of water. This was
Dahlia’s life, not hers, and she had no desire to swap.

It was safe to
say that she and Dahlia were not close, not since they had been
kids, anyway. When Dahlia had discovered modelling and acting, she
had left her younger twin (by ten minutes) far behind. In their
late teens, Dahlia had done her best to convince Doris to join her
in the modelling industry but Doris was having none of it. Dahlia
had begged and cajoled and pleaded, but Doris was unmoveable.
Dahlia claimed that identical twins in the modelling industry with
looks like theirs were pretty much guaranteed success.

Doris said no.
Many times.

Dahlia had
never been right with her since, avoiding her at Christmas and
never returning her calls. Doris had been sad that her sister no
longer wanted anything to do with her, but a part of her was also
glad. She hated the thought of the press latching on to the fact
that Dahlia had a twin. To keep the fact that Dahlia had a twin
sister out of the press took some doing, but then, Jeremy was the
best in the land. Spin doctor and agent extraordinaire, if he
wanted to leak to the press that the earth was flat then people
would probably buy it. He wasn’t nicknamed ‘The Shark’ for
nothing.

Doris thought
that she would die if she had Dahlia’s lifestyle. And she was only
doing this now because her sister needed her.

It wasn’t long
before Jeremy sidled up to her. Doris was short, but Jeremy was
even shorter, barely even coming up to her shoulders.

“Fantastic
publicity stunt,” he said, steering her out of Curt’s firm
grip.

She could feel
Curt’s eyes boring into her back when he led her away out of his
hearing range.

“Hello Jeremy,
did I do OK? Are people buying it?”

“Buying it?
Sweetie, you’re doing fabulously. Damn it, you’re even better than
the real thing. You’ve got this whole, Marilyn Monroe vulnerability
thing going on and the press are going crazy. There are
loads
of interviews lined up for you and Curt.”

“Interviews?
You didn’t say I would have to do interviews. Just this premiere
and then it would be over.”

“Yeah, well, I
may have bent the truth just a little. Oh, don’t give me that look,
this is all for your sister’s sake. She’ll be back to take over the
reigns as soon as she’s out of rehab and you can disappear back
into oblivion you came from. I must say, that was a genius move on
Curt’s part, his and Dahlia’s careers are going to sky rocket
because of it.”

His words hurt
her, even though they shouldn’t have done. She wasn’t entirely
stupid, she knew Curt only said they were an item to further his
career, but for a moment there, it had felt really good standing so
close to him as his
girlfriend.

She sighed
deeply. How immature and stupid of her to think like that, even for
a second.

“Have you two
finished?” Curt said, coming up to them and draping his arm
protectively around her waist.

The possessive
gesture made her stomach flip, and then she chided herself for such
a juvenile reaction.

If she wasn’t
careful, she was in danger of developing a schoolgirl crush, and
that simply wouldn’t do.

“I’m just
briefing my client,” Jeremy said. “Great publicity stunt, by the
way.”

Curt’s eyes
narrowed. If Doris didn’t know better, she would say he was
offended.

But that was
silly, it was probably just his naturally surly expression.

“Thanks. Is the
transport waiting at the backdoor? I think me and Dahlia are done
here. We have things we need to discuss with regards to out
newfound relationship.”

Jeremy looked
at Doris with something close to concern in his little eyes. But
just as quick it was gone again, because the only thing Jeremy was
concerned about was money. And specifically, how much money Dahlia
could make him, especially as she was by far his hottest money cow
right now.

“Fine. Dahlia?
Are you happy to share a limo with Curt?”

“Yes,” she
said, her heart tripping wildly and her mouth suddenly dry. “That
would be fine.”

“Then I’ll call
you tomorrow and we’ll run through all those interviews we’ve got
lined up for you two lovebirds.”

He dropped them
a wink and left them to it.

Curt placed a
hand under her elbow and steered her towards the exit.

CHAPTER
THREE

Curt was
staying at The Ritz. He lived in London but it was easier with all
the interviews and the endless entourage of people that insisted on
dressing him and fannying around with his hair and endless other
crap if he stayed in a hotel. He really didn’t want all these
people in his home. He preferred to keep his home life separate
from work life.

He made sure
that the limo driver stopped at his hotel first.

“Come up for a
night cap,” he said.

“I think I’ve
drunk enough for one night.”

“Then I’ll make
you a coffee. Please. We need to talk about the upcoming interviews
and stuff.”

Please? Since
when did Curt Gunner have to beg a woman to come up to his hotel
room?

Even in the
dark night, he saw the hesitation in her eyes, the flicker of doubt
that showed she was genuinely close to refusing.

“OK, fine. Just
for five minutes.”

He hadn’t
realised he had been holding his breath and his shoulders sagged in
relief. He threw open his door before she changed her mind.

Once in his
hotel room, she perched nervously on the edge of the bed. Curt
shrugged off his jacket and draped it over the ornate, red and
gold, high back chair.

“So what did
you want to talk about?” she asked primly.

“Would you like
a drink?” he asked, loosening his tie and discarding that too.

“Yes. A coffee
please.”

Coffee?
Since when had Dahlia Dean ever asked for a coffee when alcohol was
on offer? She was just so God damn strange tonight
.

“You’ve been
acting so strangely tonight. Tell me, what gives?”

She shifted in
obvious discomfort in her ultra-straight backed sitting position on
the bed.

“This was a
mistake. I should never have come up to your room. I’m sorry.”

She got up to
leave but he held onto her forearm. Just touching her in such an
innocent way thrilled him. She sat still, unable to disguise her
trembling.

“You’re here
because you want me as much as I want you.”

“No,” she
whispered, the way her body gently shook telling him otherwise.

“I’ve never
seen you this way before, so nervous, so full of desire.”

“No,” she said,
again, none too convincingly.

He silenced her
feeble protests with his mouth, pushing her backwards onto the bed
with his big body.

The way she
quivered and trembled beneath him unleashed his inner beast. He
wanted to
do things
to her. He hadn’t gone there the one and
only time they had fucked in his trailer on the film set.

Curt had more
unconventional sexual tastes. But at the same time, he wasn’t
insensitive about his sexual preferences. He could please a woman
in bed along with the best of them, and he could always sense when
a woman was up for a little bit of spanking and light bondage, and
when she wasn’t.

And last time,
Dahlia hadn’t been. Generally speaking, the nosier the woman, and
the more forward she was, the less adventurous she was in bed.

Now Dahlia was
trembling beneath him like a rare, precious flower and the surge of
dominance he felt was all consuming. Easily he pinned her little
hands above her head with one big hand and leisurely let his eyes
feast on her delightful, but unfortunately still clothed, body.

He shucked out
one of her tits through the easily accessible opening of the
neckline of her dress and latched his mouth onto her nipple.

Her soft groan
of want was music to his ears and his cock swelled to the aching
maximum when her small pink nipple hardened in his mouth.

He kissed down
the top part of her stomach that was exposed but could get no
further because of the damn dress.

With a growl he
pulled her into a sitting position and yanked the dress down her
torso. A small gasp of desperate need escaped his lips at the sight
of her. Which was so unlike him. He never let his desire take
control but right at that moment, he could feel his resolve ebbing
away.

He felt an
irrational surge of anger at her for threatening his self-control.
It wasn’t her fault, he knew it, but no woman had ever made him
feel like that before.

He knew he was
being a little rough to overcompensate, but he couldn’t seem to
stop himself. He pulled the dress over her rump, even though she
was still sitting on it, yanking it down her legs and throwing it
to one side.

She sat there
in just her panties, soft and voluptuous, her alabaster skin
inviting his touch. The excess weight suited her. The sight of her
slightly rounded stomach inexplicably brought a lump to his
throat.

She was
definitely all woman and driving him
fucking insane.

He ran his
fingers lightly down one arm and her skin instantly goosebumped at
his touch. He could take this visual teasing no more and threw her
down on the bed, cupping her tits in his hands and burying his face
in them. He could feel the flutter of her heart against his nose
and mouth, like a trapped butterfly.

He knew that
she would be wet for him. His nostrils flared and his mouth watered
at the mere thought of burying his tongue in her sweet and ready
cunt. He kissed along the protruding ribs of her concave ribcage,
down to the soft swell of her tummy.

“No,” she
gasped.

No?

Curt heard the
word, but he didn’t
hear
it.

“Please, don’t
make me do this.”

That penetrated
his lust fogged brain. He didn’t make any woman do anything she
didn’t want to do, period. They always offered themselves up to him
as helpless, willing sacrifices.

Without
hesitation he rolled off her and stood up. His cock strained
against his suit pants, making him want to howl in frustration.

He was about to
say that he would order a cab, that she should get dressed and get
the hell out his hotel room and wait in the lobby, when he saw the
tears in her eyes. Hastily she brushed them away, and reached down
for her dress to clutch it pathetically to her body.

“There’s
something I should tell you,” she said.

“What?” he
asked, turning the full force of lust filled glare upon her.

He could
imagine that he looked a right evil bastard now, but that was only
because his entire body was thrumming with desire.

“I, I…”

“What?”

“I’m not who
you think I am.”

“What do you
mean?”

“I’m….
different.”

Curt sighed. He
hated it when women talked in riddles, it did his head in.

“You mean
you’re not the biggest bitch on the planet, that it was all an act
when we filmed Brick Face and really you’re a sweet, misunderstood
young woman?”

“If you’re
going to take the mickey, then forget it.”

Take the
mickey? Since when did Dahlia stop swearing like a fishwife?

Curt felt
strange. He felt his desire and confusion spiralling out of control
and he didn’t like it one bit.

“Just say what
you want to say and leave,” he said, far more harshly than he had
intended to.

“Could you turn
round please? I’d like to get dressed.”

“Turn round?
It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

“Please.”

“I do not
believe this
shit,
” he complained, but turned round
anyway.

He listened to
the soft rustle of her clothes and the sound of a zipper being
pulled up.

Miracle I
didn’t break the damn thing
...

“There. I’m
done.”

“Bully for
you,” he said, knowing full well he sounded like a petulant child
but unable to stop himself anyway.

When he turned
round she was fully dressed once more, if a little rumpled round
the edges.

“The thing is
Curt, I’m really not the same person you met on the set of Brick
Face…”

“I know that,”
he said, interrupting her. “I know you’ve changed. What is it? Have
you come off the drugs? Or are you taking more of them? Don’t tell
me you’ve found God.”

“No. nothing
like that.”

In that moment
Curt was overcome by weariness by this whole conversation. He was
too horny to be sympathetic and he suddenly got the distinct
impression she was playing him.

“What is it
Dahlia? Are you playing hard to get? Is this a pathetic attempt to
appear more interesting to me? Don’t worry, you’re not the only one
that’s already dotting the i’s and crossing the t’s of all those
fabulous Hollywood contracts. Because believe me, that’s the only
reason I’m giving you the time of day. That, and because I want to
fuck you one last time.”

“You’re
impossible,” she said, the colour rising in her cheeks along with
her voice. “I’m trying to tell you something important and all you
can do is ridicule me.”

“Something
important? Something self-important, more like. It’s all
me, me,
me
isn’t it Dahlia? I don’t want to hear your bullshit about
how you feel you’ve grown as a person, or you haven’t take drugs
for a week, or some such naval gazing bollocks.”