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Everything was blurry. He felt like he was seeing double. Trace was drunk, and anyone could have told him that. His judgement had certainly slowed down, but he'd been lying there in bed for a few hours it seemed. They were a few hours of peace and quiet that he so desperately needed. There was a mess in the kitchen of bottles and glasses that he hadn't bothered to pick up. Some of the cabinets were still open, but he didn't know how else to react to what he'd done... [i they'd] done. He saw a few voicemails on his phone from his wife, but he didn't dare answer. Trace didn't know how to talk to her for the first time in a while. He didn't know what to say. Would he come out and tell her that he shared an intense kiss with the woman he was working with and was supposed to be living separately from? Now they were both in the same Villa... the same, private Villa.
They were forbidden. The two of them were destined to be apart in every single way, but it only made the tension grow. After all, everyone wanted what they couldn't have. Trace could [i NOT] have Emily Winthorpe. She was too immature, too drunk, too high, too [i Emily] to want. But he did. It was so obvious to him that he did in that passing moment of lust. They were actors, so he certainly knew what it felt like to be falsely playing a role. This wasn't the case... Trace didn't just do things on impulse. He thought about things. Apparently, all that was out of the window with Emily.
Trace groaned in the sheets, chastising himself for giving in. He was a man with needs, but she was NOT one of his needs. She was a slut after all... He didn't deal with sluts. Trace had higher standards than that, didn't he? [i But he just couldn't think.] He'd been at a loss for words, as if they were both mute and only able to express themselves with their hands and bodies and lips. [i Fuck me...] Trace thought, running a hand up to his face. Then, he felt movement next to him on the bed that was way too comfortable for its own good. There was someone beside him, and Trace knew damn well who that was.
Emily. Again and again and again. She wouldn't even [i let] him stop thinking about her. Or was this just a hallucination? Or did he fall asleep and it was a dream? Was it all a dream? Maybe he hadn't kissed her and broken his vows... Maybe he hadn't really lusted over here. Maybe he never even got the role.
[#3ab918 "What we did, was bad..."] Her soft, seductive voice ran over his ears like the wine he'd downed earlier that night. [i It was bad... very bad.]
Trace was convincing himself it was all a vision when she grabbed his hand and pulled it to her thigh, speaking in that same tempting voice as before. [#3ab918 "But, i'm not going to lie to you. It's a natural thing...and ...I liked it, alot. It'll be our little secret. I wont tell..if you wont. No one has to know. Touch me..."] His eyes opened, and Trace turned enough so he was on his side, able to look at at the woman in front of him. She was real. It was all real. All [i too real.] She liked it... A lot. Why did that pride him?
She was promising that she wouldn't tell. Trace figured there would be a price tag for her silence. But touching her? Giving in? His large palm was resting on her smooth skin on her upper thigh, bare as her dress was hiked up. He could feel himself so close to her... He could feel her warmth. Trace followed her every movement with his eyes, staring as she would push down the straps to her arms, leaving her in the slimmest of fabric yet again. It only covered enough to make him want more.. to make him want to rip the thing off entirely again and not stop this time.
Maybe drinking wasn't the best idea...
[#3ab918 "or I have something that can make us forget?. If that is what you really want..."] She was holding a kit that he could make out to most likely hold drugs. He could do it all... no one could know. This could be their secret. This could be their three months in paradise... Trace blinked once, looking over the woman before him. Again, judgement was gone and not only because of alcohol.
[b "What are you doing Emily? What do you want... What do you want from me?"] He would ask, testing her as he slowly moved his palm a few inches higher on her thigh, waiting for some kind of response. Anything... He had to know. She had to explain.
[i Or else e feared it wouldn't take him very long to cave in again.]
It was not something she expected.
From the moment she laid eyes on Trace, it was on the big screen when she and like many others watched a movie of his.
He was grand.
He was upmost the most incredible looking man she had ever seen; but she wouldnt admit that, Emily was simply too proud even thought she wanted to scream it from the rooftops.
It made her somewhat jealous on how good he was; as she..felt threatened.
Someone - a man was going to take her throne.
The kiss was red hot.
A kiss that was filled with passion, lust, forbidden wanting and she could feel the yearning of the man as he strained hard against his pants.
There was no doubt in her mind that a patch of wetness would be on the his fabric, visible for whoever to see.
Hands were all one another.
A simply squeel of pleasure escaped from her thorat as she could feel Trace's hands grip her ass, holding her tightly to him as the kiss got hotter and hotter.
It was all lingering in the past when Emily shifting off from his body and his hold - heels back onto the floor only to take a step back, trying to process what the fuck just happened.
[b "What, was that?..."] she spoke, breathing heavily as a single arm covered her bare naked chest.
[i "No... this never happened. Do you hear me? This NEVER happened, Emily."] - was all she got from him.
Within seconds - eyes not leaving him, Emily was about to open her mouth but was cut off with more words from the man, including being handed over her dress to which she put on quick and smartly.
Exited the room - leaving her alone to think about all that happened only for her body to jump slightly upon hearing his hand against the wall - knowing he made a mistake.
[b "Fuck..."] she whispered to herself as she brought up a hand to her mouth - sighed and turned around - glancing out the window as clatter of glass - growls in frustration were heard down stairs.
They fucked up.
As time passed, Emily remained in the bedroom speechless, somewhat in a catatonic state trying to still figure it all out, but as time passed, so did her urge to want more of the good stuff.
Moving out of the room, down the stairs - she collected her purse that remained on the floor and travelled back upstairs towards the main room that was now hers as Trace was defeated.
Sauntering passed the Guest room, Emily looked down at the purse for a single moment before pushing open the door, seeing Trace upon the bed, face down.
[b "What we did, was bad..."] she spoke softly, entering the room - leaving the door somwhat open just a crack as she wandered over to the bed, crawling upon the mattress and laid down beside him.
If they were to live together in the Villa, both as stubborn as they were, they needed to get along.
[b "But, i'm not going to lie to you. It's a natural thing...and ...I liked it, alot. It'll be our little secret. I wont tell..if you wont. No one has to know. Touch me..."] again Emily whispered - gently grabbing Trace's hand and letting the palm gently place on the outside of her thigh that was bare from the fabric of her dress being hiked up.
Her hands slowly pushing down the straps of her dress only to rest on her arms.
[b "or I have something that can make us forget?. If that is what you really want..."]
Opening her purse Emily reached in and pulled out her very special drug kit - just incase..
Fire. Passion. Intensity. Desire. Regret...
[#24a01c "What's the matter, Andrews? Finally met your match?..."] She was still able to talk back to him in that way they both lived for within the past 24 hours. He barely noticed it until he was sucking face with her. She barely muttered his name before his lips were crashed down on hers. Trace could feel her arms go up and wrap around his neck, and she would voluntarily step closer. [i Did she want this?]
Trace was in a whirlwind of emotions as she opened her mouth willingly. His tongue would wrestle along with hers in a sensual dance. She tasted of alcohol yet also of something faintly sweet... was it strawberries? Why was he thinking like that? Had Trace Andrews been broken? It seemed like it because when Emily felt his large bulge, she muttered three words.
[#24a01c "Oh ..fuck, yes...."]
She'd wanted him to do this... to chase after her and collide his lips against hers and get hard and throw her on the bed... Emily was jumping up and wrapping her long legs around his waist, and he reacted by running his hands down to her ass to support her that was only covered in a thin slip of underwear. Her lips were coming back to his, claiming them in a hungrier and harder pace.
She hadn't been put off by him kissing her. No. She was [i loving] it. Trace had felt her bare skin in his hands and her hard nipples and breasts pressed against his own. He definitely realized that really fast.
Then it was over, and she was standing on her own once more. Trace looked at her, taking in her figure. She was just as slim and voluptuous as he thought... even with her arms crossed over her chest. Trace tried to keep his eyes off her, running his hand up through his hair and over his mouth.
[i What have I done?] He thought, playing with his ring just a bit. He was [i married,] and he was happy. He was happy wasn't he? Why did he suddenly feel the urge for this woman... to want her to need her? He [i hated] her. He had to.
Trace took a look at her and then shook his head. He had to get away from her... far away. [b No... this never happened. Do you hear me? This NEVER happened, Emily."] Trace sighed heavily, grabbing her dress and throwing it back at her without looking. [b "Just get dressed... this room is yours."] He spoke in a defeated and soft tone, nothing like his normal confident self. As he walked out, Trace hit the wall hard with his hand, cursing and hurrying off to the guest room.
He didn't just kiss her... certainly not with all that [i passion.] Not Emily Winthorpe. Not when he was fucking [i married.] Trace splashed cold water on his face, trying to wake up from the nightmare he was certainly having. But he didn't. It was all too real. [b Shit...] Trace muttered. He had to forget this. He had to drink enough to forget...
Trace opened as many cabinets as he could in the kitchen until he found the supply of hard liquor and poured himself shot after shot until he was drunk off his ass and fell face first in his bed in the guest room of course.
Emily knew the slap across the face had some strength to it.
No one in their right mind would ever even think or come close to speaking to her in that manner.
If they did - they would be out the door - fired and completely jobless with a bad recommendation.
It was a good slap in the face, one Trace needed for a good wake up call. His words were hurtful and after that response, surely he should of realised that.
Up the stairs she walked and slowly removed the single piece of fabric that was covering her body and flung it out to the side the moment she stepped around the corner out of complete view.
It was perfectly timed.
Trace could not even take a peek as she was long out of the way, moving into the high profile bedroom with an utterly incredible view.
[b "Cop that, Mr Bond..."] she muttered to herself, standing by the window and looked out into the distance before hearing the footsteps on her new found roommate.
“Sit your affections, your heart and your precious time out on the doorstep without so much as making him ring the doorbell first, and he’ll treat you like a doormat. Make him work a little to get next to you, and he won’t stop til you’re his.” - this was a quote she was fond of and it screamed true. Make the man work for it. Make him respect you and right now, Trace had no respect for her.
All he saw was a girl in trouble, a drunk who slept around because she was just ever so lonely.
Emily watched the man enter the room and treated her dress like nothing as it flung off to the side like it was nothing, letting it rest upon the bed.
The look in his eyes.
Trace Andrews was mad.
[b "What's the matter, Andrews? Finally met your match?..."]
He was mad.
He was fuming.
Emily remained in her place, tall and ever so poised, naked - apart from only wearing a pair of underwear that were so tiny, she might as well not be wearing one at all.
Within moments of her speaking those words, silence filled the room and for one time, for once Trace did not utter a single word in retaliation.
Instead, he walked up to her, closed the gap inbetween the both of them and looked down upon her face - deep into her eyes as she tilted her head up and did the same.
Heart that belonged to her began to flutter fast.
[b "Trace?..."] she spoke softly, raising an eyebrow.
Hands rested upon either side of her face and Trace lent down - resting his lips upon Emily's own.
This took her by surprise.
Eyes widened the moment this came to be but it took second for her eyes to close and wrap her arms around Trace's neck, stepping in closer - letting her body press up against his own.
Opening her mouth, tongues danced along one another and finally, she tasted Trace.
He tasted like peppermint and whisky, exactly what she imagined and more.
Fingers ran through his hair and tugged on the strands and the moment she tugged, came the moment - his hands grabbed her body and pulled her in closer, forcefully up tight against him.
Against her stomach with her being shorter - Emily could feel the large bulge against her which only made her wetter, soaking her underwear.
[b "Oh ..fuck, yes...."]
Jumping up - while still holding onto Trace, Emily wrapped her legs around his waist and continued to kiss his enchanting mouth harder - growling in hunger.
Head tilted to the side - Emily passionately kissed his lips - biting down on his lower lip; completely lost in him.
The married man kissed her first.
It came as a shock to her system but she just could not help herself.
Bare naked chest pressed it up hard against his skin.
Nipples hard from being incredibly turned on, however all good things had to come to an end and the moment was over with him pulling away, breaking the kiss.
There eyes opened and connected once more while his hands rested on her ass, keeping her up.
It was then she came to realise what they had done.
[b "Shit...."] she whispered - shifting her body, unwrapping her legs and setting her feet down that were still in the heeled shoes onto the ground.
Stepping back, Emily brought a hand to her mouth while her arm crossed over her chest, kept her tits hidden and kept quiet - trying to regain her breathing.
What was that?
[b "You kissed me...."] she spoke in whisper, staring at the man. [b "But, you hate me ..."]
He did hate her.
What the hell was this?
Emily was confused.
Crazy for the man, but completely confused.
[b "This is all just a game to you. Kissing me, making me feel things that will distract me...."]
It was the only sound that filled the room after Emily reeled her hand back and put all of her smaller body into the forceful slap across his face. It jerked his head to one side, leaving a nasty sting. The woman could pack a punch. He probably deserved that one... Trace lifted one of his hands up to cradle his cheek that she so carelessly slapped the hell out of it. She could have handled that differently for both his sake and hers. Emily got in the first words after the verbal spat turned physical.
[#3ec01b "Don't you dare, ever talk to me like that again. You are the lowest; most disgusting man I have ever met. And yet..im still standing here.."] Okay, that one was a little personal. He was the [i most disgusting] man that she had ever met? In her whole entire life? He wanted to check himself in the mirror after that comment. Had he been slacking off or something? Trace didn't think he looked that bad... He'd struck a chord with Emily, and she didn't let him get away with it. It was almost a turn out to Trace, and he could feel it burning inside of his heart like an inferno wanting to be let out. This woman challenged him in ways others never dared to. It was like she was the mouse, and he was the cat, and she dared him to come after her before darting away into a hole in the wall again.
Trace was considering putting his hands on the woman and pressing her body against his, covering her pouting and angry lips with his own in a heated and passionate kiss to shut her up. [#3ec01b "Then again, if you do wish to share the Villa, id be happy too.."] It was at that moment that Trace finally showed the slightest bits of relief. It would be fun having her wait on him. [i That was easy... like taking candy from a baby.] Trace was thinking of putting her in a sexy little maid's outfit and ordering her around until she threw another curveball at him like a world famous pitcher... of words that is.
Trace was still sitting there, tallying up another score for himself as Emily bounded over to the stairs. Well, maybe he could get through all this without too much bloodshed. Until she struck back. Emily didn't even pick up the keys, leaving them on the floor from where they had slid after she slapped his hand. She flashed him a gorgeous smile and turned her back towards the James Bond actor himself, strutting her sexy ass to the staircase as if she was up to something. How did he not know better... Emily placed a manicured hand on her body, daring his eyes to look and imagine all the things he could do to her. She lifted her nails to hook under her dress straps and push them down, making Trace red hot in desire and craning his neck to see if he could catch a glimpse of her naked body as she turned the corner and threw the mini dress to the side. Trace couldn't hide the little growl that was erupting in his chest.
[#3ec01b "However, I get the main bedroom. You can have the Guest room, or the couch. Up to you.."] Her words came as she slid up the stairs in the most graceful and seductive of manners. Oh this woman... [i That wasn't part of the deal...] He let his eyes linger on the stairs as if her naked form would come walking back, but she didn't do such a thing. Trace would pick up the keys, holding them in his hand and then place them on the counter. That was it... He couldn't hold back. He'd been drinking, and her slap had pushed him over the edge.
He'd already made arrangements for his things to be brought in. Trace even scoped out the master bedroom to see what he'd living in for the next three months. [i No.. this is mine.] He grumbled, walking towards the stairs with a determined and lustful look. He grabbed her dress off the stairs and made his way confidently and quickly to the bedroom. His heart was pounding in his chest as he pushed open the door to the master bedroom, hoping to find her there. Trace saw the woman, throwing her dress to the side. He was fuming.
Trace took a look over her, and if she would look at him his eyes were full of intense, almost animal lust. Trace couldn't stop himself. He closed the gap between them and put his large hands on either side of Emily's face, pulling her to him and enveloping her lips in his as he crashed his down on hers with all the fever and passion and tension of a freight train. Trace trailed his hands to her back and pulled her hot body flush up against him, letting her start to feel the bulge in his pants. He took her lips forcefully in his, letting his teeth linger to pull at her bottom lip tantalizingly when he pulled backwards. He was breathing heavily at that point, looking down at the woman. If she hadn't clad herself in some other fabric, Trace would have noticed by then... and the beast inside him would be let out.
[i I'm going to fuck you hard...] He thought, staring all of his intent down into her eyes.
[+red "You know... Now that you mention it. I'm sure there is room in this big huge Villa for us both to share. That is... if you do everything I say when I ask of you. You can be my little servant girl, and then... and only then will you be able to occupy the guest room. What do you say?"]
He did not just say that to her.
Who the fuck did he think she was?
[i I love you. I hate you. I like you. I hate you. I love you. I think you’re stupid. I think you’re a loser. I think you’re wonderful. I want to be with you. I don’t want to be with you. I would never date you. I hate you. I love you…..I think the madness started the moment we met and you spoke your words. Did you have a disease or something?] she spoke to herself in her mind.
Emily had no idea what this was. All they both did was fight, disagree and try to shoot verbal ammo to hurt one another.
What kind of sick game was this?
The words that came out of Trace's mouth only made the woman's blood boil even more and it was with a raise of her right arm - open hand that she quickly flung it to the left, slapping Trace hard and quick across the face, leaving a delightful red mark that made her somewhat happy.
Oh it felt good.
To slap a man disrespectful man was just wonderful, that and she could touch him again.
[b "Don't you dare, ever talk to me like that again. You are the lowest; most disgusting man I have ever met. And yet..im still standing here.."] Emily replied, keeping her eyes on the man that longed for. [b "Then again, if you do wish to share the Villa, id be happy too.."]
Giving off a smile, Emily took a step back only to leave the keys where they laid - on the floor upon the side. Turning her back on the Actor who was Bond, the Actress began to make her way up the staircase once again with her hands slowly sliding up her body and began to take off the dress, turning the corner out of view and flung the dress behind her showing off that she was now nude.
[b "However, I get the main bedroom. You can have the Guest room, or the couch. Up to you.."] she called before laughing.
Oh yes, Emily trumped his ace.
How sweet it was.
In the bedroom, she looked around and smiled. This was much better than the penthouse.
With a single phone call, Emily made sure that all of her belongings were on their way to her new home for the next 3 months.
It wasn't long before the Villa was empty, and Trace was left alone with the keys. Emily hadn't come down from the bathroom, and Travis had somehow managed to lead her agent, John, out for a quick chat about their clients. It was perfect. Trace was standing there, leaning against the fancy couch as he held the keys out in front of him. He had his eyes trained on the stairs for Emily to grace him with her presence as she bounded down them. Emily looked so bewildered when he saw her face again, placing her hand on that rail as she slid down the stairs so smoothly. The look on her face was priceless. She was [i mad,] and it was all his fault. [i 1 for Trace. 0 for Emily.] He thought, keeping that grin all over his face.
[#299b17 "Are those..the.... Oh..no you did not just do this.."] Emily's voice was incredulous and angry like a swarm of ants after someone stepped on their ant hill. Trace only kept that grin on his face, dangling the keys in her face then lifting them up as if to taunt her to jump. Trace didn't even say anything as Emily mustered up some comeback to spit in his face.
[#299b17 "You...snake. Not only do you talk about me behind my back and make people think the worst of me, you do this!..." she screamed. "Why do you hate me so much? Huh? ... Because people like me better? Because I am so, damn lonely I like men to keep me company? Or is it because you know I'm a drunk and you want to make a fool out of me?.."] Emily was in full-on rant mode at that point. She confirmed everything he thought of her and more. He wouldn't say he hated her... no that was too strong of a word, and he only told the director and Travis what he thought of her. She was lonely as she proclaimed and a drunk and fond of men in her bed at every minute of the day.
He wanted to say that he was making a fool out of her because she started things... He wouldn't let her win. The second that Trace let his guard down after her yelling outburst of an act, he would be declared the loser in a million ways that Emily could find. Trace knew better. He was going to bask in his little victory as the lady in front of him threw her purse at him. He felt the impact of it, but he kept his ground. Trace didn't lose that smirk as she came at him and smacked the keys out of his hand. Trace felt a slight sting in his hand as the keys slid across the floor.
Emily's eyes captivated his with a look of both hatred and lust. He could see the flashes in them, awakening a lust in himself that he found strangely irresistible. Her eyes were like daggers cutting into him and drawing blood. Trace knew she wasn't innocent, no matter how much she bitched to him. He didn't trust her...
[#299b17 "They just like me better. Put me up in a nice Penthouse and you feel you need to compete with me by taking this place. How pathetic can you be? Take the villa, I don't care. You cannot hurt me anymore than you already have.."] There she went, playing victim again. She sure as hell wasn't innocent. Trace had been angry that she'd been staying in a Penthouse when all he got was a nice suite, but he had the nicest suite of all now. He one upped her, and that meant he won. He also won seeing this little outbreak. She acted like he'd hurt her to some outrageous extent, and he could have rolled his eyes then and there. He just got the Villa little miss princess wanted for herself.
Emily stood just in front of him, keeping her ground, no matter how tall he stood before her. She was a little spitfire. [#299b17 "I am not ...going anywhere. Nothing you can do..or say will make me. So stop being a pretentious cunt and accept the fact, that I am here....this, whatever it is, it's not going away, not until this movie is over.."] Trace listened to the little Cinderella of a woman before him as she proclaimed that she was not going anywhere. She was making a fit. [i Oh yeah? Try me...] Trace thought as she declared there was nothing he could do to make her leave and that he was a pretentious cunt.
Trace was silent a moment before looking down to her, talking in that deep, smooth voice of his, [b "You know... Now that you mention it. I'm sure there is room in this big huge Villa for us both to share. That is... if you do everything I say when I ask of you. You can be my little servant girl, and then... and only then will you be able to occupy the guest room. What do you say?"] He let his eyes linger over her, searching her with those dark, challenging, and sexy eyes of his.
[i I dare you...]
It was with wiping her nose once more - her eyes still staring into the mirror at her reflection that flashes again went through her mind.
It was not and nothing to do with the man downstairs, instead it was that of her childhood.
The beginning of her hunger to succeed and make her life mean something, to make it better; however it was right now in that moment that Emily couldn't help but feel even more lonely than she could of possibly imagine.
She had nobody.
She did not have a ring on her finger, a man to come home too at night who would greet her with open arms; let alone a pet as she was always at different location, making movies - pretending she was someone she wasn't.
The man downstairs who plotted to hurt her even further did have a ring on his finger and did have a wife who loved him very much.
Perhaps that was why she hated him as much as she did. Hate was a strong word, she disliked him.
Grabbing the mint container from the countertop - Emily threw it against the mirror and backed up - sitting down onto the lid of the toilet and cried.
A hand upon her mouth - her eyes closed and cried.
She had nothing.
Money wasn't everything.
For several minutes while downstairs was starting to becoming clearer with the people leaving, Emily stood back up and cleared her throat, making herself look presentable once more and breathed in deep. She was going to nail this role. She would run circles round Trace, if it was the last thing she would do.
However it was walking down the stairs that she noticed the people in the villa had left and Trace - was the only man left standing in the middle of the lounge room where the end of the steps met.
Down one step at time, hand upon the railing - Emily looked around just to try to find another face but came up with nothing and again - looked t the Actor who had a pretentious little smirk across his face before holding out a hand while his fingers held a set of keys.
[b "Are those..the...."] she spoke, stepping into the lounge room towards Trace who didn't mutter a single word.
[b "Oh..no you did not just do this.."]
And the proof was evident when he continued to hold the keys up in-front of her face.
[b "You...snake. Not only do you talk about me behind my back and make people think the worst of me, you do this!..."] she screamed. [b "Why do you hate me so much? Huh? ... Because people like me better? Because I am so, damn lonely I like men to keep me company? Or is it because you know I'm a drunk and you want to make a fool out of me?.."]
Throwing her purse at him, Emily wandered up to Trace and smacked the keys out from his hand - hearing them fall onto the floor with look of hatred and lust on her face.
Her eyes like daggers.
Yes, Trace was an intoxicating man, but he was nothing but a good for nothing prick with a hidden agenda.
[b "They just like me better. Put me up in a nice Penthouse and you feel you need to compete with me by taking this place. How pathetic can you be? Take the villa, I don't care. You cannot hurt me anymore than you already have.."]
Looking at him, Emily bit her lower lip - keeping her stance good and firm.
[b "I am not ...going anywhere. Nothing you can do..or say will make me. So stop being a pretentious cunt and accept the fact, that I am here....this, whatever it is, it's not going away, not until this movie is over.."]
[i Kiss me, Trace...do it now before I scream..]
Trace blended back into the crowd as if the encounter had never happened between he and the way too gorgeous for her own good actress. He was fairly certain no one had seen their encounter out on the balcony or at least he hoped. Emily was literally all over him, placing her hands on his body and clothes as if she was just waiting for the party to be over to ravish him. It would certainly create rumors that Travis would go insane over. Trace was married, so the slightest bit of infidelity would send the paparazzi, media, and fans off their rockers. Trace didn't intend to do so with a woman he couldn't stand. She should be on the news for breaking the world record of number of dicks inside of her in a lifetime... or even how drunk a woman could get before filming. [i This is war...] Trace thought, as he sparked up another conversation with Travis.
Trace should have known he'd see the face of Emily once more as she passed by them and made up some excuse to go to the bathroom to [i "powder her nose."] Trace was almost sure she'd brought a few lines of cocaine to snort up that she could feel that rush again that separated herself from her miserable life of loneliness. Emily gave him a look as she waved at John, and he reciprocated it. His eyes narrowed, and he just straightened his coat. The night was growing ever darker, and people were beginning to leave. Trace was beginning to wonder if he could convince the director to let him set up residence in the Villa. He considered the thought, thinking about just how much Elizabeth would hate him for it. That last thought spurred his courage to do so. Trace excused himself from the influential people Travis had rounded up for him to find the older man.
Trace found the man showing some people out. He took a cautious look to the stairs where Emily had graciously wandered off to to give him the opportunity to ask for the Villa's front door keys for the next few months. When the door closed, Trace took the moment to move in front of the director, [b "There you are... I've been meaning to talk to you about something pressing my mind. Do you have a moment?"] Trace would ask with that British charm he seemed to have when he spoke that he could turn on and off just as easily as breathing. [i "Why sure I'll make time for you son... What's going on Mr. Andrews?"]
Trace placed a hand on the man's shoulders, leading him to the same balcony he and Emily had shared a private moment on to avoid prying ears, mostly John's. [b "This party has had me in awe of the Villa since we first walked in. This is a dream house of mine to be completely honest with you. Is there any chance I could convince you to move me here for the remainder of filming? It's close to set, and I could even pay if you'd have me."] Trace said with that signature smile. He couldn't WAIT to see Emily's face if he landed this one. The little princess would have to beg him for it... hopefully on her knees.
The director would seem to take it into consideration, taking in another breath, [i "I don't know Mr. Andrews... I respect you, and I'm more than happy that you agreed to take on my movie. I can't thank you enough... It's just that this Villa is expensive and I..."] Trace wouldn't take no for an answer, placing a hand on the man's shoulder to look him in the eyes. He had to pull this one over on Emily.
[b "I understand sir, but I must add that the location of the Villa itself is inspiring me in this role. I believe just waking up to this view every morning could give me the extra spark I need for this role as the new Bond."] He knew the words would speak to the director, who wanted this new Bond rendition to stand above the rest. Trace kept his eyes on the man before him who finally caved in, [i "In that case... here you go Mr. Andrews. The place is yours for the remainder of filming. Treat her well. I'm counting on you... oh and make sure to keep that inspiration coming, you hear?"]
Trace just grinned, taking the keys as the man handed them over, [b "I wouldn't dare to treat her with anything less than the respect she deserves."] Trace spoke, meaning both Emily and the Villa. [b "Oh and it's Trace."] He flashed that grin again and then walked back inside, purposely holding the keys so a certain blonde would hopefully bound back into the party scene and see them. If not, he was sure she'd find out sooner than later. Trace would laugh over the victory with his best friend and agent as they discussed how they could enjoy the house.
[i Hit me with your best shot Winthorpe.] Trace thought, finding himself curious as to what her reaction would be.
This man was going to be trouble.
How could she possibly find him fascinating, handsome and articulate, when he was the devil reincarnate?
How she hated him.
If only she could say that touching him, made her sick to her stomach when it did completely the opposite.
It was as if little tiny butterflies fluttered around inside and wouldn't stop, no matter how loud she screamed.
It was as if a small, feather was being dragged along her skin - up and down that made her body tingle all over with miniscule goosebumps.
Touching him made her feel giddy on the inside and it took everything she had, not to wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him hard with passion like fire, tasting his tongue.
Emily bet he tasted like whisky.
As Trace lent in lower, Emily fluttered her eyes closed and breathed deeply as the tingles wouldn't stop, especially down in her lower half that seemed to made the fabric wet.
His voice, his words - no matter how mean and pathetic as they were felt good in her ears to where she bit her lower lip.
Within seconds, Trace backed up and walked off - turning his back on the Actress without a second glance.
Perhaps she wasn't as good at this game as she thought. Opening her eyes, she watched him leave her space before turning around - gritting her teeth.
Both hands, palms down rested on the smooth flat surface of the balcony railing as she stared ahead of her into the distance while the flute of champagne she had yet to finish rested on her left side.
[b "Damnit..."] she muttered to herself.
Now, it was on.
Tapping her fingernails, it wasn't long until Emily turned around - grabbing the flute and wandered back towards the party in the direction Trace made just a few moments ago.
He was standing there with a few other people, schmoozing his way to the top while kissing ass and all the young Actress did was wander past him and Travis - past John who turned his head and called out.
[+green "Emily? ..Where are you going?..."]
[b "To powder my nose, I'll be right back.."] Emily spoke with a smile, waving John off - looking at Trace, giving him that look.
Everything was going to be okay.
It had too.
It was Hollywood.
Up the stairs, approaching inside, Emily excused herself and spoke to Steve who gave her the directions to the bathroom. A personal bathroom where she would be along and not harassed.
Up the wooden stairs, hand upon the railing, Emily heard her heels click with every step she took and it was moments later she entered the bathroom.
Not locking the door as no one would possibly enter; that and also she was too figety, needing a good calm down.
Purse on the countertop, it opened up by her fingertips and there, Emily took out the metal mint container that revealed the white powder, a sharp spreader and an already rolled up American bill.
On the counter, Emily was going to powder her nose, literally.
Cutting the powder a little finer with little taps, it was spread into a line and with the cylindrical made man straw in hand, Emily lent down - her long hair to one side of her neck and snorted the drug quick.
Standing up after it was consumed, white left over powder on the counter, Emily looked at herself on the mirror and wiped her nose, sucking in more through her nostrils, breathing out a soft calming sigh.
This was exactly what she needed
All she needed now was a hard dick to sit on.
Aww how sweet... he was a thorn in her side. Just the approach he was going for. Emily just said ditto to his acting comment, and Trace thought that would be it. Oh how wrong was he... Emily stepped closer to him, and put both of her hands upon his chest. He could feel the softness and warmth radiating to his well-built chest. How would it feel to have her hands unbuttoning his shirt, ripping at it to get at his skin underneath? How would it feel to have her under him.. or on top of him...? Trace had to get her out of his head, but she wasn't making it easy.
Trace's eyes were fixated upon the woman in front of him. When she went up on her tip toes, Emily was hovering closer to his height, closer to his lips. Trace took a few deep breaths as his pants were tightening once more at how close she was, especially as her luscious lips as they were just at his chin. Trace lowered his head a bit instinctively, feeling his own breaths come heavier as hers lingered over his lips. Her smell was intoxicating... He could envision himself tangling his hands in her hair as they wrestled around in bed. [i Damn when are you going to stop being such a man whore?] Trace didn't dare move though. He was frozen in place as if cemented there.
Trace knew the woman was breathing in his evergreen scent as she was so close to him... so tempting to just take her lips in his. It wouldn't be hard from then to mindlessly rid her of her clothes... They would certainly be close enough for the movie then, wouldn't they? The only problem was that he hated her.
She spoke as if casting a spell on him about not liking each other. She was damn right about that one. [i "I've been a bad, bad girl, Mr Andrews. I've been trying to get you fired. Obviously now I can see you are not going anywhere and neither am I. Keep your distance from me and I'll do the same"] He hardly heard it, other than the fact that she admitted she was doing her best to get his ass fired and replaced. That's funny he'd been telling the director how much of a mistake he had taken in hiring her. She was a bad girl... bad enough to deserve a good fucking if only he could...
Her fingertips ran down his chest, bringing sparks as she grabbed at his belt buckle. His eyes lowered, starting to feel a growl of desire lifting up to his chest. Trace yet again saw the woman slipping a hand into his belt and lowering it to the point of no return... or pushing his pants down and dropping to her knees. She was driving him insane, and the tension was suffocating him.
[i Emily Winthorpe will be the death of me...]
Trace heard her words, and he lowered his lips down to her ear, mimicking her actions. He would speak in a deep tone as his breath washed over her skin, [b "I never make deals with the devil."] He would then remove himself from her, heading out to down another drink. [i Here comes cold shower number two...]
[i "If that's the case then I suppose you believe everywhere you go is named Africa."]
He wasn't wrong.
However, it wasn't her that chose the outfits. It was someone on her payroll and to be quite honest, this stylist knew her body exactly.
What to show off and what not to show off.
The side of the right thigh was never to be shown, it was in her contract, plain as day.
The contract of her requirements, rules and what she would do and not do and there wasn't a lot he wouldn't do.
If there was a scene of her being naked, it was either shown from the left side, if not, a body double was used.
If she and her on screen lover were in bed, faking love - left side only or they were under a sheet.
Emily did a lot of conceal the large scar from the men she had bedded, no man would ever see it.
Emily said nothing to his response and continued to stare upon him, ears perking up a little more as he continued his words that were honestly falling on deaf ears.
The nicer comment, he threw it back in her face to which she narrowed her eyes and whispered a soft growl.
Who the fuck did this punk, think he was?
He was not all that.
[b "You're right. It will not happen anytime soon. You, Trace - are a thorn in my side..."] she replied softly, trying to keep as cool as a cucumber but this man was really pushing her buttons.
Reaching up, grabbing his tie to which she tugged upon it, however it was within a matter of seconds that his hand clasped around her own and held the grip.
Silence between the two was golden, but the tension could be cut with a knife.
The moment his hands were upon her, if even it just was on the hand - tingles shot throughout her body and the flashes, the flickering of fast paced images of their naked bodies entangled in bed were shown in her mind...and they were beautiful.
Emily had to cleanse herself from all these thoughts as they were for sure to get her into trouble.
[i "You know I can act, right? I don't have to be nice to you behind the screens to make it believable."]
[b "Ditto..."] Emily replied as she took her out from his grasp - breaking the connection.
It was a move she came quickly to regret and with that, she wanted more. Stepping in just a fraction closer, Emily gently placed both of her hands upon Trace's chest and went on her tip toes, as just as she could.
The man was a giant.
Face close to his, her lips just meeting with his chin - Emily continued to glance into his eyes.
[b "I don't like you. I know you do not like me ..."] she whispered, breathing softly - letting her hot sweet breath rest upon his lips as she closed her eyes quick - taking in his smell as her hands slowly made their way down.
Everwood, its was wonderful.
Opening her eyes, again she took a look at him.
[b "I've been a bad, bad girl, Mr Andrews. I've been trying to get you fired. Obviously now I can see you are not going anywhere and neither am I. Keep your distance from me and I'll do the same"] she spoke softly, her fingertips resting upon his belt buckle, tilting her head with a smile.
[#125614 "You do not like what I'm wearing?.."] Emily would simply say, causing another roll of Trace's eyes. [i Of course I like what you're wearing why the hell do you think I'm talking about it.] Trace would watch as she intentionally took those fingers of hers to push her hair and show more skin. She truly was hardly wearing anything. Oh he hated her so fucking much.
Trace stood still as she threw another insult at him, crossing his arms and tapping his shoe on the ground a bit. [#125614 "How could I not stare? You look like and are dressed like a Penguin, in the wrong environment. This is Africa, Mr Andrews. Less is more..."] Emily was getting closer to him, and Trace didn't let it go unnoticed.
[b "If that's the case then I suppose you believe everywhere you go is named Africa."] Trace spoke cooly, sipping down more of his champagne. The balcony they stood upon held an even better view than he even imagined possible. At least it made it a little bit easier to deal with Emily Winthorpe, the bitch herself.
[#125614 "Ive been asked to be one of your Bond girls. Im considering it. It wouldnt hurt for you to be a little nicer to me..."] Emily spoke, and Trace was about to turn to speak up against her when her hands grabbed at his tie and began tugging at it. [i I wouldn't do that if I were you...] Trace began to think, feeling the desire beginning to rush up into his chest more and more. [b "I'll only consider it when you decide to start being nicer to me which I don't see happening any time soon."] He would reach his larger hands up to take hers and push them away from her tie, feeling more of that sexual tension that he couldn't describe.
As soon as his hands touched hers, Trace took a moment to stare down deeply into her eyes. He seemed to envelop her in his eyes as he pushed her hands down off of his tie. Trace didn't bother pressing down the images in his head. Oh what he would give to press this woman hard up against the wall... lift up her skirt... pull her underwear hard down her round ass... show her pleasure that he was sure she hadn't felt before. This woman was putting images in his mind that didn't deserve to be there for such an underwhelming human being, but they were there none the less.
[b "You know I can act, right? I don't have to be nice to you behind the screens to make it believable."] Trace could still hear the sound of the music blaring down to them as they were standing outside the balcony. The party was far from over.
It definately was a party.
In order to step outside to where the people mingled - one had to make their way through the villa and it was incredible.
Emily made a mental note in her mind to make sure she spoke to John and her PA as to why this was not her accomodation.
Sure the Penthouse, a couple of miles away was perfection, but this...the veiw she had the moment she stepped outside was a master peice.
It made her feel better knowing that Mr Hot Shot did not aquire a room such as this as if he did, she would have been pissed.
Outside; fairy lights string up high that casted a sweet warm ambiance along with sticks pushed into the ground that harboured a light ontop that was lit with a flame and ignited by Kerosene.
A pool in the middle that several people kept away from but some decided to bite the bullet and entered the water with a splash before kissing respectable partners.
A bar on either side of the property which was a god send to Emily as she desperately craved a drink only to recieve one moments later.
Champagne in a crystal flute.
Right on time.
Waving, smiling - stepping down the steps to enter the outside area, Emily became swarmed with people who only wanted to get a closer look of the Actress as they had only seen her on the big screen.
Signing autographs, Emily simply smiled like she was told too and engaged in conversation before all the minions scrambled away and Steven came into veiwing range.
Complimenting on her attire and smell - all she could do was laugh as honestly - it truely was the first time someone spoke on how she smelt.
It was a new one for the books.
As were the not so innocent thoughts that flickered through her mind the moment those eyes rested upon the man that irritated her.
The sight of him took her breath again.
It was the flute filled with liqour she brought up to her lips that hid the nervous smile.
Thoughts that rendered her weak in the knees.
Thoughts that had her roughly pinned up against the wall; her body allowing his hands to trail up from her dainty feet - up her legs and under her dress to which her underwear would be removed and his face would show her what true pleasure was when it rested inbetween her thighs.
She couldnt think these things.
Not about him.
Snapping out of the stupid thought, Emily excused herself and took leave from the conversation - needing to get away from the sight of him.
Champagne in hand, it was by the balcony at the back of the party that had a view of the lands of Africa that she stood.
Absolutely kicking herself about thinking that way of a man that did not and did no effort to obtain her respect.
Emily thought she had gotten away from the snake only for it to approach and bite her.
He spoke words that made the poor girl narrow her eyes and breaking away from the perfect scenery infront, Emily turned and glanced up at the 6'2 Adonis of a man and stepped in closer.
Oh..she was close.
Her perfume wisped up from her smooth skin and lingered around wanting to be naughty and hypnotize.
[b "You do not like what Im wearing?.."] Emily muttered softly before giving a small turn - facing her back to him only to let her polished fingers dance along the strands of her hair by the nape of her neck and slowly pulled them to the side - giving out a veiw of her bare naked skin.
The dress had a low scoop at the back.
Smiling, turned around again and faced Trace one again - again stepping in closer.
[b "How could I not stare? You look like and are dressed like a Penguin, in the wrong environment. This is Africa, Mr Andrews. Less is more..."] she muttered, taking a sip of her champagne.
[i Fuck me, Trace. Cant you see how much I need you?..]
[b "Ive been asked to be one of your Bond girls. Im considering it. It wouldnt hurt for you to be a little nicer to me..."] Emily spoke - reaching up where her hand grabbed his tie and began to tug on it softly. [b "Nice tie...."]
The constant buzz of laughter and human voices in conversation filled the large open floor concept of the Villa. Trace's moment of silence with the director was quickly severed by admiring fans or other aspiring actors and actresses that wanted advice. Trace busied himself signing a few copies of his movies and answering a few questions. Although it was often annoying to be held to such a high standard at all times, Trace couldn't say he detested it. Acting gave him luxuries that he never thought he'd have, coming from a middle-class family and working several jobs to scrounge up enough cash to fly out for auditions and even get into acting school. Trace never had it easy, but acting gave him a simpler life than he'd ever dreamed of. He even met his wife through acting, in all her glory. In that sense, Trace didn't mind the occasional autograph or question about how the hell he managed to jump off that horse in his rendition of Tombstone.
Trace shared a few laughs with the people that never seemed to stop coming, finally getting a moment to himself when his agent, Travis made up an excuse to push them all away if only for a brief moment. [#1f0f66 "Can I steal him for a moment? We need to talk about the upcoming movie... Classified of course."] Trace sent him a pointed look, laughing when he realized what had happened, [b "Thanks for the break. I was about to go a bit crazy if I had to sign another autograph. So what's up?"]
[#1f0f66 "It's Miss Winthorpe. Trace... I know you aren't exactly fond of her, but this movie could send you over the top. We both know that, so you can't blow this with your ego or personal thoughts about your female lead. Shake her off. It's one movie, and you both have to at least act like you want to rip each other's clothes off for this Bond and Bond girl dynamic to work. Do you understand me?"]
Trace would let out an incredulous laugh, sipping more of the wine he had in his hand. [b "You can't be serious... Really Travis? She's a nightmare. I don't fucking get why America holds her up to such a golden standard. That woman knows how to get at people, and, frankly, I don't care who the hell she is."] Trace took another sip of his wine, letting it linger to run down his throat smoothly before speaking again, [b "And don't question my acting skills, I can act like I want to fuck her if I will myself to. That won't be the problem... it will be behind the scenes. Let me handle this."]
Trace's response was only half true. He didn't need to act like he wanted to fuck her brains out because he sure as hell wouldn't mind that. He wasn't over that little motion she pulled with her hand trailing up her thighs and over her ass as if she wanted to taunt him to come at her. [i What a slut...] Trace shooed Travis away, not wanting to be bothered by any more appearance or reputation speeches. He just wanted to have fun tonight... speak with the people, bask in the fame, and enjoy a bit of alcohol. This was a big deal, and he knew that. Emily Winthorpe was just the beginning of his obstacles, no matter how much of a mountain she was to jump over.
Trace finally turned from the glass window that held a gorgeous view and turned to the rest of the party going on. There was upbeat music blaring through the speakers that set the mood perfectly for the night. It was both sensual and exciting, as if beating to the rhythm of the people's bodies as they danced and laughed. Trace finished his glass of wine as he scanned the people beautifully dressed in long gowns and prim suits. They were all trying to make an impression. Hell, they were in the company of two extremely famous celebrities with money and connections that could pole jump them in their careers and lives. [i Smart ass crowd.] Trace thought. That was when his eyes locked onto the deep, enchanting emerald green eyes of one woman in the crowd.
She was staring at him as she sipped a slim glass of bubbly champagne, as if reading his mind or... undressing him? Maybe a bit of both, but Trace kept his expression stable with thin lips and calm eyes. He lifted the glass to his lips intentionally letting his bottom lip clasp the glass in his grasp as the liquid ran through the small opening. Trace had his eyes straight on hers, and there was no denying the heated sparks of sexual tension between them, no matter how much he detested her.
Trace didn't go without noticing her outfit, or rather lack thereof. She was clad in a thin black mini dress with a slit on her left thigh. Her cleavage seemed to be pushed upward in the tight fabric, just begging for him to rip the clothing away and free the beautiful mounds. Trace obviously traced her body all the way up with his eyes, watching as the leg slit left nothing to the imagination. He could only think about what she was wearing underneath... or not wearing. Trace knew what she was doing. She wore that dress for a reason, and it was to get attention. Specifically, [i his.] Testing his theory was something Trace so desperately wanted to do... along with pushing her buttons as much as she did his, so he took several confident strides towards the woman before he was standing all of his 6'2" frame over her.
[b "Could you stop staring at me? It makes you look... desperate to say the least. Especially wearing that."] He spoke just above a whisper, flitting his eyes over her form as he was a bit closer to truly appreciate her figure in the dress. He showed that famous half-smirk of his, grabbing some champagne and sipping it as if satisfied with the way he'd handled it.
[i Your turn Cinderella.]
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