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In the land of Hollywood, bright lights cover lies, truths hide in shadows, and the lives of the rich and famous are illusions created by smoke and mirrors.
When costume designer Josie Bane first lays eyes on Anders Ellis, she hates him instantly. Conceited and arrogant, he's the epitome of a Hollywood playboy. So it’s much to Josie’s dismay when he becomes the star of her sexual fantasies.
Never expecting to see him again, she gives in to her desires for a night she’ll never forget. However, Josie soon learns that life is full of surprises. When their paths cross again, sparks fly. With three little words, Anders changes everything.
He’s after one thing.
She refuses to give it to him... again.
When Josie realizes she’s falling for a man that will never let her in but refuses to let her go, she must decide if the risk is worth the reward.
With a relationship shrouded in secrets and outside forces poised to tear them apart, did they ever stand a chance? Before the smoke clears and the curtain falls, Josie and Anders must distinguish between what’s fact and what’s fiction in a place where the truth is never black and white.
Excerpt
Prologue
On
the second floor of an exclusive restaurant, a private party was in full swing.
Music pulsed through the speakers, distorting the scattered conversations with
its thumping bass. In the back of the dimly lit room, Josie Bane leaned against
the wall. Her gaze flitted around the room, moving over the sea of random faces
with amusement. Actors and studio employees slowly meshed, alcohol erasing the
line between filthy rich and hired help. The subtle graze of a finger against
bare skin here, a sultry smile and lust-filled gaze there.
It was a room filled with one-night stands and morning after
regret. Fantasies brought to life by alcohol and loneliness. Josie was the one
exception. She had no illusions of a fairytale ending. She wanted one thing
from one man. When it was over, she’d walk away without regret. Just like he
would.
Josie sipped her drink as the object of her intentions came
into view. He stood among a circle of people with relaxed shoulders and an easy
smile. With one hand inside his pants pocket and the other holding a glass of
champagne, the casual observer might believe him to be completely at ease.
For Josie, however, the predatory gleam in his eyes as he
scanned the crowd was unmistakable. In a final move to calm her nerves, Josie
finished her champagne and straightened her shoulders. If everything went
according to plan, his search would be over soon.
She remembered the first time she had laid eyes on Anders
Ellis. He’d strolled past her to the set, his black hair purposely messy, his dark
blue eyes full of mischief, and his dimpled grin portraying an innocence he
didn’t possess. He was cool confidence and smooth swagger, and his appearance
caused the entire crew to fall silent. It was obvious he loved the attention.
Josie disliked him instantly. His good looks and cockiness
made her face twist with annoyance whenever she thought of him. His treatment
of the crew and cast members was degrading at best. So Josie did what any sane
person would: she became an invisible presence. She went great lengths to see
that his costumes arrived on time, the material pressed and wrinkle free.
Admittedly, it was no small feat. Anders tended to be a little more than high
maintenance.
Everything changed the day Josie stood at the back of a
closed set while he filmed a sex scene. Her thighs clenched at the memory of
how he pushed off the bed after the director yelled cut. How he adjusted the
tight cock sock while walking away from his costar still panting on the bed.
The way he smirked at the women staring with uncensored lust. She also
remembered the sounds coming from his trailer later that day when he and his
costar had a private encore performance.
Shame and excitement heated Josie’s skin as she thought
about what she had done later that night. She had replayed the scene of him
thrusting against his costar as she slid her fingers under the edge of her
panties. In this scenario, however, it was her
sweat-slicked body being licked, sucked, and pushed over the edge of oblivion.
It was the first of many fantasies starring Anders during
the months that followed. Unable to deny her attraction any longer, Josie
accepted her desire to make at least one of those fantasies come true.
She glanced at her watch and pulled in a deep breath. It was
now or never. Leaving the now empty glass on a table, she smoothed her hair and
pushed through the crowd.
On the other side of the room, Anders sipped his drink and
checked the time. One more hour and he could leave. The pickings for finding
someone to fuck were slim. There were plenty of attractive women around, but
he’d slept with most of them and he never went against his motto.
Anders Ellis doesn’t do repeats.
He sighed when the sound of clicking heels approached from
his right. He fixed his face with a smile and turned, his eyes widening at the
sight of the girl approaching him. Long, light brown sun-kissed hair fell over
her shoulders. The neckline of her top dipped between her breasts, revealing
the soft swell underneath, and her short skirt showcased legs meant to wrap around
his waist.
He had no idea how he had missed her.
“Hi.” Her full lips pulled back into a gorgeous smile. He
wanted to see those lips wrapped around his cock as he wrapped his hands her
long hair. Her light blue eyes were clear, a sure sign she wasn’t drunk.
“Hey,” he answered, not bothering to hide the way his gaze
lingered on her chest.
“I’m Josie,” she offered, extending her hand. She didn’t
bother pretending to care about his staring. She wanted him to imagine her
naked.
“Anders. But I’m guessing you knew that.” He grinned and
shook her hand.
She smiled indulgently. It was no secret that he was a
conceited asshole, but she wasn’t interested in stimulating conversation. The
stimulation that Josie sought involved very little talking.
“Yes. I worked on set since filming started. Actually,
before then.”
His brows lifted in surprise. Again he wondered how he had
missed such a sweet piece of ass over the last several months.
“You worked on set? What did you do?” he asked, curious, but
not really. He was more interested in knowing so he could keep an eye out for
people in her position, in case they all looked as fuckable as her.
“I’m Craig Peters’ Costume Supervisor.”
“Ah,” he nodded. “That’s why I don’t remember you. Wardrobe
was the one thing I didn’t have to ride anyone’s ass about.” His eyes dropped
lower as his mind lingered on exactly what it would be like to ride her ass.
“Pity.”
“Well, I wouldn’t want people thinking you’ve gone soft by
letting me slide. You do have a reputation to uphold,” she pointed out with a
playful smile, the innuendo unmistakable.
“Baby”―he
chuckled, stepping closer―“I
assure you there’s nothing soft about me.”
Humming, she pursed her lips and raised her chin, seemingly
unconvinced by his declaration. Thankfully he couldn’t hear the way her heart
rate spiked when his eyes dropped to her mouth and his tongue swept over his
bottom lip.
“What? You don’t believe me?” He cocked his brow, unable to
hide his amusement at the idea of anyone doubting his sexual abilities.
Curling her finger, Josie beckoned him closer. When he
lowered his head, she leaned forward, her lips brushing against the shell of
his ear as she spoke. “Maybe you should convince me.”
In less than five minutes, they entered the manager’s office
at the back of the restaurant. With his arms around her waist, he pulled her
flush against his chest. Their kisses were demanding and rough, their movements
frantic as the barriers of clothing fell to the floor.
“This,” he panted, removing her shirt, “has to go.”
He palmed her tit with a firm grip, eliciting a strangled
moan from her parted lips. Not one to be outdone, Josie combed her fingers
through his jet-black hair, then scraped her nails down his neck.
“Fuck.” He flexed his fingers, groaning as he lowered his
head and grazed his teeth over her nipple. “They’re real.”
“Not…something…you see often?” she asked between kisses
while unfastening his belt and flicking his pants open.
“Not often enough.” Stepping back to remove his shirt, he
took a moment to appreciate the slight flare of her hips, the smooth curve of
her waist, and the way her tits moved as she drew in heavy, labored breaths.
“Are you just going to stand there or are you going to fuck
me?” Josie unzipped her skirt. The material fell to the floor, leaving her in
just panties and heels.
Anders pulled a condom from his pocket and tore it open with
his teeth, never breaking their stare. Pushing down his boxers, his cock jerked
when he stroked it once before sheathing himself.
“Is this what you want, baby?”
Not bothering to look away from what she wanted most, Josie
sucked in a ragged breath. Anticipation caused her heart to pound as he stalked
across the room. “Yeah, hell yeah.”
Anders’ gaze landed on a tattoo peeking out from the top of
her panties. The image of his tongue tracing the outline caused his throat to
tighten. “What’s this?” he asked, falling to his knees and pulling the lacy
material away for a better view.
“A tattoo.” Her muscles tightened from his touch.
“What is it?” He tugged her panties down and traced his
tongue over the outline before nipping at her hipbone.
“Oh God,” she whimpered. “It’s ivy.” Her hips bucked as his
tongue, so close to where she ached for him, teased her skin. She squirmed,
weaving her fingers into his hair and tugging as he stood, licking and sucking
her hot flesh along the way.
He kissed her neck and slid his hand between their bodies.
Pressing his palm between her legs, he slipped two fingers inside her. He
twisted his hand and rubbed his palm against sensitive and swollen flesh until
her legs shook and her nails cut indentations into his shoulders.
With a sexy moan, she stiffened. Her neck arched as the
tension in her body exploded and she sagged against the wall with a shuddering
sigh.
“Don’t get too comfortable,” he warned, his cock throbbing
and rock hard. He grabbed the back of her thighs and lifted her body until her
legs wrapped around his waist and her back hit the wall with a thud, just like
he’d imagined. “I’m nowhere near done with you.”
“You better not be,” she whispered before nipping his
earlobe.
He rubbed himself over her slickened entrance before driving
into her in one long, smooth stroke. His eyes rolled back when she clenched
around him. There was no kissing, no talking, only panting breaths and low
grunts as his hips thrust forward again and again. He slid his hands under her
ass and bent his knees, his pants barely staying on as he pulled her away from
the wall and dropped her onto him.
“Fuck!” she cried out, her legs tightening around him. Her
eyes pinched shut as he tortured her over and over with the most pleasurable
pain. A final hard stroke of slapping skin and Anders fell forward, Josie’s
back slamming into the wall once more as his hips jerked and he pulsed inside
her.
“Jesus,” he gasped. He gripped her painfully, his heart
pounding as he rested his forehead against her shoulder and tried to calm his
erratic breathing.
Josie hummed in response, her body freshly-fucked limp and
her skin flushed from exertion. Anders lowered her to the ground, her legs
shaking as she stood.
Smug, he watched her struggle as he rolled off the condom.
He pulled up his pants and fastened them, his mind already wandering beyond the
room, curious if anyone had noticed his absence.
Josie pulled in a deep breath. Her post-orgasm high mixed
with the alcohol she consumed earlier made her sluggish as she crouched to
retrieve her clothes. A smile lingered on her lips as she stepped into her
skirt. That was so much better than her fantasies. She tugged on her shirt and
tried not to inhale the scent of his cologne clinging to the material.
Anders alternated between watching her dress and wondering
how soon he could leave without being a complete asshole. Not that he cared; it
wasn’t like he planned on asking for her number. What Anders didn’t realize was
that Josie expected nothing.
Anders cleared his throat, his expression impassive as Josie
lifted her gaze. She would have laughed at the way his demeanor changed from
dangerous predator to cornered prey if it wasn’t so pathetic.
“So thanks,” he said with a shrug as he inched toward the
door.
Josie smiled. It was saccharine sweet and one hundred
percent fake. “It was my pleasure.”
Anders gripped the door handle and checked the time while
Josie crossed the room and poured a shot from the bar. She wasn’t interested in
an awkward goodbye either. More than anything, she wished he’d be the dick he
was and leave already.
“I should go first in case anyone is looking for me.” He
tried to sound nonchalant, but his tone gave him away. It held that familiar air
of superiority, the one he used on the set when he expected people to do as he
said, no questions asked.
“Sure,” Josie nodded, taking a sip of her drink. “I’ll hang
back for a few minutes. You’re not the only one with a reputation to uphold.”
She moved to the desk and eased herself into the chair, fighting to contain her
amusement as Anders watched her with narrowed eyes.
He wasn’t sure what she had up her sleeve, but she was up to
something. In his mind, his dismissal should have bothered her. The alternative
was that she did this often, which he supposed was possible. Still, he couldn’t
help feeling pissed by how unbothered she appeared. So in true Anders Ellis
fashion, he acted like a dick.
“Right. You wouldn’t want your next lead actor to know he’ll
be following up behind me. It might make him reluctant.”
“Exactly,” she agreed with an even tone and blank
expression. “It would be cruel to give the poor guy a complex.”
Anders smirked. She was mocking him. What he said, however,
was true: no guy wanted to be compared to Anders. Pulling open the door, he
peeked down the hall, relieved to find it empty. He looked back at Josie who
was sipping her drink, her expression still mocking. His eyes drifted to the
hem of her skirt, taking one last look at her fuck-hot legs.
“Thanks again, Ivy.” He chuckled, slipping out the door and
closing it behind him.
“See ya, Anders.”
Downing the rest of her drink, Josie stood and crossed the
room. Copying Anders, she peeked down the hall before slipping out of the
office. After a brief stop by the ladies’ room, she ventured back into the
party.
Anders shifted his weight and shook hands with the director
before checking the hallway once more. He tried to ignore the cute blonde next
to him who had pounced when he reentered the room. For a moment he wondered if
he’d missed Josie when movement to his right caught his attention. She entered
the main room, stopping when she reached a pretty redhead. Josie leaned into
the girl, eliciting a smile from her before they shared a hug and Josie walked
out the front door.
She didn’t look back once.
“You want to grab another drink?” the blonde asked, sucking
her lower lip between her teeth. Anders glanced at the door once before turning
to the blonde and giving her a smile that was certain to land him a blow job.
“Sure,” he answered, the girl sliding into a cab outside
already forgotten.
An hour later, away from the crowd and pulsing music, Josie
fell onto her bed. Her mind and body still felt like Jell-O from the
combination of top-shelf liquor and mind-blowing wall sex. He was every bit the
asshole she’d expected. However, with the memory of flexed abs, strained
muscles, and being filled to the point of pain still fresh in her mind, she
couldn’t muster the energy to care. It wasn’t like she expected to see him
again.
But that was the funny thing about life: it rarely gave a
shit about expectations.
Olivia Evans is a dreamer by day, writer by night. She's obsessed with music and loves discovering new bands. Traveling the world and watching the sun set in every time zone sounds like heaven to her. A true Gemini, she follows her heart blindly and lives life to the fullest with her husband, son, and friends. Her other loves are: Chuck Taylors, Doc Martens, concert tees, gangster movies, sports, wine, craft beer and her shih tzu's.
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