AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I came with a cry, turning my face into the counter as waves of pleasure washed over me. He pulsed inside me, spilling out like promised, and a rough tug on my hair forced my eyes open again.
“Watch,” he commanded as he pulled out, cum still dripping from his cock.
My eyes dropped to my core, still pulsing with shocks of pleasure, pushing out thick beads of cum trailing down my lips to my legs.
His fingers swiped along it, pushing it back into my hole as he curled and rubbed against my sensitive insides. “I don’t want it to come out now; that’s no fun.” He smirked at me before twisting his fingers around for one last burst of rapture before he pulled them free and offered them to me.
Like the greedy girl I was, I lapped at the offering only to hear his praise one last time. And he gave it to me as my tongue swirled around the digits when he pulled them out with a pop.
“I’m so proud of you, my perfect Girl Scout.”
Eight
ABEL
“Anarchist Abel is Actually an Angel.”I scoffed and scrolled past the article to the next one.“Anarchist Abel Amends Atrocious Attitude.”My eyes practically rolled into the back of my head. I wasn’t that bad.
I stopped on another article with a video attached to it. Hitting play, I watched from a crew member’s point of view as I shouted at the lighting director on the set of the show. I winced at my words, quickly closing the browser and reflecting for a moment. Maybe I had been a bit of a prick since fame went to my head.
I’d never considered the possibility until Scout pointed it out. Others had called me out on my bullshit, but something about her went past all my defenses—especially the ones around my heart.
I saw now what the others did and was embarrassed by myself. That guy, the one who threw drinks and swore at hapless set workers, who showed up late and disrespected his crew and co-workers … wasn’t me anymore. I didn’t want to be him. “Anarchist Abel.”
Not that Angel Abel fit either, but who I was, who everyone perceived me to be, didn’t deserve Scout. She deserved a man who built her up and was proud to be next to her. I wanted to be that for her in every way possible.
Audrey fluffed my hair one more time with her fingers before smiling in the mirror at me. “There.”
Honestly, she’d been at it for an hour trying to tame my curls, but it didn’t look any different from how I showed up this morning. Maybe it was because hair and make-up weren’t something I would normally care about, but she’d worked hard.
I should compliment her.
“Is this what freshly fucked is supposed to look like?” I offered a smile.
“According to Luca.” She scowled slightly, and I lifted an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. Not my place. And if the director was banging the hair and make-up girl, that was even more not my place.
I almost made a comment about checking the next time I get laid but realized that might be inappropriate. See? Already a changed man, I thought before I spoke.
“Well, thanks for your hard work, Audrey. I appreciate it.” She smiled gratefully, and for a second, I felt good knowing I’d made her happy.
As I started to rise, I paused, holding the arms of the chair. “Hey, do you know a good restaurant for dates around here? Somewhere impressive?”
“Madeo in Beverly Hills is popular.”
I sat back and looked at my phone, Googling the spot. She was right. It looked pretty impressive. Not that eating out was my thing. I had a long-standing relationship with room service, but that, I was sure, wasn’t impressive at all. Copying the contact info, I paused. Normally, I would’ve sent the details to my PA to book a table. Except this time, I was taking my PA.
“You been there?” I looked at her. “Would she like it?”
“If she likes you, I’m sure she’d love just about anywhere.”
I smile gratefully before rising from my chair to head back to set. One more scene today and one more tomorrow before we wrapped. If I was going to convince Scout we could make this work, I had to do it before she flew back to Chicago for Christmas with her family.
As I crossed the lot, a set dresser swayed on a ladder while she tried to adjust some baubles on a Christmas tree. Grabbing the bottom, I steadied her but missed her thanks as my eyes homed in on Scout.
She was pacing in front of the studio lot doors, her phone pressed to her ear, looking upset about something. Her free hand swung around as she talked with it. It was an adorable quirk that, despite her irritation, made me smile.
“You good?” I glanced at the dresser, who nodded, and I released my hold. As I began to make my way over to her, snippets of her conversation drifted toward me.
“Yeah, but I’ve been dealing with him for weeks. Every mess you’ve thrown my way, I cleaned it up. I’ve been working non-stop. I agreed to work over Christmas, pushing my flight home to the twenty-fourth at eleven-thirty at night!” She pulled the phone away and growled in annoyance, turning away from me.
