Perfectly Scripted Page 10

“Well, we did it!” she squealed in delight.

  “We did.” I smiled, giving her shoulder a nudge.

  “She’s incredibly beautiful,” she said, pointing to the model board. “I like her curves. Let’s move her to the permanent side.”

  “Yes, she definitely has the look that will work with the theme and your collection.”

  After staring at a few more pictures and the shots we had taken from the session, we filled our roster. For the last twenty minutes, my phone along with Maya’s had been going off like firecrackers one right after the other. I had at least fifteen text messages from agents, and Maya had some as well. We had the final list typed up, and Maya had the lovely task of contacting the models we had picked.

  After I’d said goodnight to Charlotte and the rest of the crew, I walked back to my office and fell onto the couch, exhausted. My phone vibrated against my thigh. It was Ronan, letting me know that he had an appointment with his new trainer. Good. That would give me plenty of time to stop at the market on the way home and pick up the ingredients I needed for dinner. I’d found a place I loved near The Addison. Lucky for me it was open late. My eyelids felt heavy. A quick nap wouldn’t hurt.

  It was nearly seven in the evening when I woke, startled by the sound of my cell phone. Blake had texted me asking if I needed him to pick me up. We’d come to an understanding about guard duty during the days leading up to Fashion Week, but it hadn’t been without much protesting from Ronan.

  I sent a quick reply, and told him to meet me in front of the building in twenty minutes. To my surprise, Ronan hadn’t called or texted. Maybe he was becoming less overprotective.

  Ha! That thought made me laugh out loud.

  With all the excitement at work, I’d forgotten that Ronan would be leaving me in two days for three whole weeks. Though we would see each other at the New York premiere during that time, this would be the longest we’d be apart since starting our relationship. I missed him already.

  My stomach dropped at the thought of not being able to spend some time with him before he left. I padded to my desk and checked my schedule for tomorrow. Annoyed, I groaned at the sight of the nine-o’clock meeting penciled in on my calendar.

  Things are hectic.

  Sighing deeply, I began fumbling through the disaster zone that was currently my desk. Or at least I thought there was a desk underneath the files, look books, and budget reports.

  As I took a step back, a pair of warm hands landed on my shoulders— distinct hands.

  “Ronan,” I breathed.

  He wrapped his arms around my waist. “Hello, gorgeous.”

  I shivered as the seductive warmth of his breath drifted over the shell of my ear.

  “Did I startle you?”

  “Nope, not in the least,” I rocked my body against his. “I think you’re losing your touch.”

  Nuzzling my hair out of the way, he kissed my throat. He smoothed his hands up the backs of my legs, sending tingles of pleasure zipping through my entire body. My head swirled as his rough hands pulled me back, trapping me.

  “Hmmm. Let’s see if I can still surprise you.” His hands slipped under my blouse, cupping each breast and massaging in slow circles.

  “Ronan.” His name left my lips in a low moan.

  One hand came up and tugged at my chin, jerking my face to the side, which made my back arch and pressed my thighs against my desk. Before I could think, his mouth was on mine. He drove his tongue against mine with hungry need. The kiss was possessive—dominating.

  Without warning, my skirt was up over my hips. My body jerked at the abrupt contact, and my hands flew to the top of my desk. Paperwork among other things scattered to the floor. He slipped his hand between my thighs, his fingers teasing the lace edge of my panties. From the corner of my eye, I watched him lift the silver scissors from my desk.

  “Don’t move.” His voice was low—not angry, but firm.

  Aroused, I trembled at his command. A moment later, cold metal inched up my thigh. Goose bumps pricked up my legs and down my arms, but the cold metal was like relief against my heated skin.

  The metal slipped between my hip and the lace fabric, and his other hand skimmed over my ass.

  Snip…

  One side of my panties fell away from my body. His grip kept the other side from sliding down. He took the scissors and grazed them across my ass to my other hip.

  Snip…

  And my panties were gone.

  My head fell back against Ronan’s shoulder. His cock ground against my ass.

  “I’m wet for you,” I whispered.

  “Good. That is exactly how I want you,” he murmured, his lips drifting up my throat.

  “I want you forever.”

  On fire for him, I tugged and pulled his hair. His hand gripped mine, lowering it to my clit. He pressed my fingers down, moving our fingers in slow, rhythmic circles.

  “I’ve been waiting to touch you all day,” he purred.

  “Yes, please…Touch me.” My breath caught in my throat when he pushed two fingers inside me and teasingly moved them in and out.

  “Thinking about how I would fuck you,” he rasped.

  I heard myself moan.

  His fingers left my pussy to reach between us, pulling his zipper down. My eyes closed as his cock rested against the swell of my ass. He was hot. Hot for me. He wrapped my throat with one hand, gripped my waist with the other, and compelled me forward. A moment later, his cock pushed into me, pounding with forcefulness.

  His fingers dug into my skin as he picked up his pace. I was positive I’d have bruises in the morning, but I didn’t care. They would remind me of his need, his pleasure of fucking me.

  He continued to thrust hard, punishing me with long strokes, causing me to moan loudly. “That’s it, my beauty. Let me hear how much you love it.”

  My mind was foggy, lost in a haze of lust. But I obeyed the demand, and his name spilled from my lips in a scream. He pulled my hair, jerking my head back hard. I laughed wickedly, desire coursing through my system. He was pushing me to the edge, seeking my orgasm first before he let go.

  “That’s good,” he growled. “Let everyone hear that you’re mine.”

  His hips drove harder. My legs trembled, and I knew I was close.

  “Yes…Yes…I am yours.”

  His forehead pressed against my shoulder blade, and he groaned, “Oh God…Fuck, you feel so good.”

  A rush of tingles tickled their way up my legs, heat spiked at my spine, and then it hit me like a forceful tidal wave. My walls constricted around him. I fell over the edge into a canyon of ecstasy and felt him coming apart behind me as he muttered curses and prayers in that sexy Irish brogue.

  He caught his breath long enough to pull me back against him, our bodies quaking with aftershocks. After a moment, he turned me around to face him, taking my face in his hands. And then he kissed me, softly, slowly. I melted into him, and his thumbs caressed my cheeks. He looked at me in that way that made me feel treasured.

  He made me feel that way every day. Adored. Loved.

  “That was quite a surprise,” I whispered.

  Grinning, he cocked an eyebrow. “A good surprise?”

  I nodded. “Feel free to surprise me any time at work.”

  “Noted.”

  “On second thought, maybe not any time. After hours will do just fine” I teased.

  Holliday

  The next morning, I woke to a shirtless Ronan handing me a cup of coffee. That was always a welcome surprise. Last night, he’d told me about his unwelcome run-in with Heather. Part of me felt bad for her. The other part wanted to call Grady and tell him to run for the hills. She was clearly unstable. My fear was that Grady was falling for her and she still carried a torch for Ronan.

  God, this is all too familiar.

  Despite his arrogance, Grady was a good guy who didn’t deserve to be cheated on.

  I know. I know. I heard myself.

  Ronan pulled on a white T-shir
t and a pair of dark jeans that perfectly showcased his ass. I admired the view as I sipped my coffee.

  “What are your plans for the day?” I asked.

  “My manager will be here soon. We have a conference call with Darcy. There are a few details to go over before I leave tomorrow morning. After that, I have to be on set for a few hours. Hopefully we are shooting indoors today. ”

  “I can’t believe you’re going to be gone for three whole weeks,” I groaned.

  “Technically, just two,” he replied, kissing my forehead. “Then I’ll be back in the States to finish the presser.”

  I smiled. “I’m going to see if there is any way I can leave work early today, but I’m not sure I can.”

  “I know that you enjoy working with Charlotte, but have you ever wanted to do something else with your life? Perhaps there’s another career path you’d like to pursue? Or, better yet, pack your bags and travel with me.” He wiggled his eyebrows, flashing a cocky grin.

  I frowned at his nutty suggestion. “I can’t just up and leave Charlotte.”

  He stood at the foot of the bed, snapping his watch on his wrist. “Well, I suppose not at present. But have you thought about going back to public relations? Maybe you’d like to run a charity organization, like, for instance, The Connolly Campaign.”

  I laughed, nearly spitting my coffee out in the process. For the past two years, I hadn’t considered the future. My focus had been taking it one day at a time. I’d never thought about taking another job or going back to PR. That was a career I’d kind of fallen into thanks to my internship with Avalon and Perry’s industry contacts. Admittedly, one part of my old job I loved was the event planning.

  “Are you trying to get me to leave Team Ricchetti for Team Connolly?” I teased.

  He pulled me to my feet and wrapped his arms around my waist. “What if I were?”

  “I would need some time to think about that.”

  “Fair enough. I won’t push.” He pressed his lips to mine, kissing me softly.

  I smiled against his lips. “Thank you.”

  “Now, as much as I love admiring the sight of your beautiful naked body”—he winked before eyeing me up and down—“you need to hurry and be on your way to work.” He shot me a knowing glance and tapped his watch.

  “Yes, sir,” I said, giving him a firm military salute.

  An hour later, I was on my way downstairs. The sound of voices echoing down the hallway stopped me on my way to the kitchen.

  “No, Ronan. I don’t think it’s a wise move. If you want the Russ Van Wyk picture, I strongly believe this is the way to go about that.” The male voice I heard was gruff and not one that I’d recognized.

  Then Darcy’s voice sounded crackling over the speaker phone in Ronan’s study.

  “Ben, I disagree. The media frenzy surrounding Ronan and Holliday has been more positive than negative. People are quite interested in her.”

  I froze in the hallway at the mention of my name, wondering why my name was even part of a business discussion.

  “And not only that, I received an e-mail from The Hollywood Advisor. They’re doing a piece on the five hottest couples in Hollywood right now and they want an interview with them.”

  “No, absolutely not,” Ronan said. “How can we even be a hot couple, for Christ’s sakes? We’ve only been together two months and rarely seen in public.” His voice sparked with a fiery tone, and I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing.

  “Ronan, I think you need to consider this and please talk it over with Holliday.”

  “Yes, consider the interview,” this Ben guy said. “Fuck, do the damn interview. Just don’t take your flavor of the month on the red carpet for this movie.”

  My heart galloped in my chest. Who was this fucking jerk-off to talk about me—us—this way? Tension built in my shoulders. Curiosity had me trapped, unable to pull myself away from eavesdropping.

  “Watch it, Ben,” Ronan warned. “You’re in serious danger of crossing a line with me.”

  “Fine. I apologize.”

  “Holliday is not my flavor of the month and you goddamn well know it.” Ronan blew out a harsh breath in frustration.

  “Back to the topic at hand. Have I ever steered you wrong?”

  “Actually, yes. In regards to Emma and Heather, your instincts were wrong on both counts. I’m surprised I haven’t fired your ass yet.”

  Ben laughed. “You keep me around because I’m right about a lot of things: your projects, modeling gigs, and getting you in suitable movie roles. The career path you’re going on right now is because of my expertise. I cannot help it that you can’t keep it in your pants. That’s all on you.”

  “That’s right. Your job is to manage my career, not my personal life. Glad we cleared that up.”

  “Sometimes the two intersect and you know it.”

  My mind was racing as anger bubbled inside me. I really wanted to burst in and introduce myself to Manager Ben, perhaps give him piece of my mind.

  “Tell me why Holliday shouldn’t walk the red carpet with me?”

  “Because, if she walks the carpet with you, all the questions will be about the two of you and your new relationship, and we need the questions to focus on the movie. This is huge, Ronan. The best scenario is to have you and Lana on that red carpet together.”

  “For the record, Ronan, I don’t agree with Ben on this one.” Darcy projected a deep sigh from the phone’s intercom.

  “Here’s a scenario: What are you going to do if some asshole reporter asks you about Grady and Holliday kissing last December? Are you going to punch him?” He laughed harshly. “Your relationship with this woman has caused some major drama in your life. Let’s not forget you were almost snubbed for consideration for the Van Wyk film because of your fight with Mr. James.”

  My breath caught in my throat. Ronan had almost lost out on a movie he wanted badly because of his fight with Grady? I’d had no idea.

  My phone lit up—Blake was alerting me that he was outside with the car. Feeling relieved to have to walk away, I turned on my heel and headed towards the elevator. I got as far as the butler’s pantry before being startled by someone gripping my upper arm.

  I spun around to see Ronan smiling. My shoulders relaxed as his hand drifted down my arm, locking his fingers to mine.

  “Sorry. I just wanted to tell you to have a wonderful day.”

  “Thank you,” I said, mustering a smile.

  He bent down and kissed me, thrusting his tongue into my mouth. Warmth flooded my veins, melting the coldness I’d felt only moments ago.

  “Tell me you love me.”

  “Madly, Mr. Connolly.”

  Staring into my eyes, he cupped my face. “That’s fitting, because I’m crazy in love with you, Miss Prescott.”

  My morning went by swiftly, which was a welcome relief. Staying busy, I kept my mind focused and off the conversation I’d overheard earlier. Additionally, I was comforted by Ronan’s declaration of love before I’d left the house. But, as lunch time came, I was left alone with my thoughts. I wondered when he was going to tell me that Ben thought it best I not walk the red carpet with him. I let out a frustrated groan and my head hit my desk.

  Knock, knock…

  “Sleeping on the job, my dear?”

  I’d have recognized that voice anywhere. My eyes darted up to confirm what my ears had registered.

  Margaret “Maggie” Mills, former playwright turned Upper East Side socialite, was standing in my doorway. Maggie held many titles, including patron of the arts, philanthropist, survivor, but my favorite title was friend. She looked elegant wearing a black and white Chanel pantsuit and classic tweed coat.

  Her Dior sunglasses slid over the slim slope of her perfect nose, revealing her light-green eyes. As she unbuttoned her coat, my eyes were transfixed on the diamonds and pearls hanging from her neck. My mouth salivated at the sight of the red—her signature color—Hermès bag she dropped onto the sofa.

 
Her arms opened wide. “Hello, darling Holliday. Come here, lovely girl.”

  The sound of her deep, sultry voice made me smile and giddy with excitement. Maggie was like a second mother to me. I loved her so much.

  I rushed into her arms, hugging her tight. “Maggie, it’s so wonderful to see you.”

  “Let me look at you, Cookie.” Pushing back from me, she extended my arms away from my body. Letting my wrists go, she instructed me to spin around.

  I blushed at her theatrics, but that was one thing I loved about her. She was vivacious.

  “You’re a stunner, darling. No wonder you landed Ronan Connolly.”

  “Maggie Mills, have you been reading the tabloids?” I motioned for her to take a seat on my couch.

  “Please, darling. The gossip comes to me.” She winked. “Information is a valuable commodity.”

  I laughed. “Of course it is.”

  “Damn right. Why do you think I am such a legend in this town?”

  That was a rhetorical question. However, many answers came to mind. Not only was Maggie brilliant and loving, but she was powerful and tough as nails. Maggie’s own assault could have left her damaged beyond repair, but she fought back every day. And she taught me to do the very same thing.

  “Tell me about this lad,” she prompted, clasping her hands in her lap. “Come on, darling. You know I’m just brimming with curiosity.”

  I told her everything, of course, like how we met in the lobby at The York. I gave her the highlights, from our week together at the penthouse to our amazing vacation in Cabo and how we were living together now. I told her about the amazing sex and our deep connection because I wanted her take on it all. When I looked up, she was bright-eyed and biting her lip.

  “Maggie, what are you thinking?”

  “I’m feeling that you should have put a warning label on that story and handed me a gin and tonic,” she laughed warmly and patted my leg. “Dinner and show! Bravo, doll.”

  As my cheeks heated, my smiled widened. “We’re totally in sync with each other. It feels wonderful to have this kind of passion and love in my life.”