Page 7 of Acting For Daddy
Alex was the name on my lips. The name in my heart and it seems little has changed in the years since I last saw him. Well, for me at least. The man doesn’t even recognize me.
“Miss Hendricks, I need you to change into this,” the blue haired stylist with a measuring tape slung over her shoulder says, passing me a red lingerie with way too many strings. I stare at the two-piece set in alarm, afraid to touch it. “T-this is what you want me to change into?”
She chuckles warmly. “Don’t worry, you will have a shirt on.”
“But the guy inside said I need to strip for the camera?”
“Yes, but you only need to loosen a few buttons and show a little shoulder and cleavage, and expose a little thigh.” She studies me for a while before adding. “Most actresses I have worked with never have reservations about showing skin, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. I’m sure the team will understand if you tell them you don’t want–”
“No!” I cry out, grabbing the set from her, my voice almost desperate. “I’ll do it. I don’t mind. I’ve just never stripped in front of a celebrity before, is all.” Or anyone ever.
The smile is back and she pats my shoulder. “Alex is a nice guy, trust me. I have worked with enough perverts in this city to tell and Alex is one of the good ones. He won’t do anything inappropriate or make you uncomfortable.”
Oh, I know Alex better than anyone thinks – better than the man himself knows – but I don’t bring that up. I walk behind a curtain to change into the new lingerie, feeling a little self-conscious when I step out, but she hands me a knee-length white shirt to cover up.
The walk to the set is short and with every step, I feel my pulse drumming faster against my skin. Someone opens the door for me and my eyes immediately zoom in on the massive king-sized bed in the center of the room, decorated with pillows and fitted with a white sheet. There are dozens of pieces of equipment positioned around the bed – on the spot where Alex and I are going to be lying.
Shit, not even an hour into seeing my childhood crush again, and now we’re going to be in bed together.
“Nervous?” rasps a deep, sultry voice into my ear, sending a storm of goosebumps across my body, I jump back and into a solid chest. Warm hands clasp my shoulders to steady me, and it takes sheer strength to not lean back into the man and nuzzle his neck the same way I have imagined myself doing so many times. Christ, he smells so good too, like a mix of freshly cut grass and a hint of musk cologne. The crisp and earthy scent makes me want to bottle his scent and spray it around my apartment so I can always feel him.
With him pressed so close to me, I can feel how hard his heart thumps in his chest and it’s doing things to me. As is his massive frame. At six-five, Alex has always been tall, even when he was a teen and now at thirty-four, he’s so big – so much bigger and taller than me and so…. warm.
Wait, is he naked?
I push back from the man and turn around to find him shirtless. My breath catches in my throat when my eyes connect with those icy blues staring down at me. His eyes are like piercing sapphires – I’ve always thought so – but it seems the time away has hardened them because they’ve never felt this… intense.
I can’t afford to ogle this man and fall back into his trap.
God, I hope there is no drool on my mouth, but I reach up just to make sure and his eyes follow my fingers to my lips. Something dark and heated crosses his eyes causing my heart to drum even faster but… I am helpless to do anything about it.
Alex Adams has always had this effect on me with his freakishly handsome face that has matured over the years. Damn his artfully messy jet-black hair that I long to run my fingers through and damn him for making me wonder how that short scruff would feel if he leaned down and kissed me.
“Are you okay, Mina?” he whispers, his voice deep and raspy, sending a heat rocking my core and I have to force my eyes away when his gaze shifts back to mine.
“I’m fine,” I say, dropping my gaze from his face but with him so close to me, there is nowhere else to look but at his massive chest, beautifully tanned skin resting over thick muscles, and those massive biceps that speak of time spent in the gym. His abdomen is a tight ripple of muscles with a trail of dark hair that dips into the waistband of… gray sweatpants!
Wait, no… I am not getting on that bed with this freakishly good-looking man dressed in sweatpants under the watchful eyes of a dozen cameras. My breathing is growing labored and my nipples are already pebbling and we are not even on the bed yet.
My stomach churns at the thought and I question if it’s too late to back out.
“Okay everyone, we are going to start the rehearsal now!” calls out the director, forcing me out of this Alex-induced stupor. I move a step away from the man and tug nervously at the hem of my shirt, which barely touches below my knee. “Alex, we need you on the bed.”
Alex winks at me in a move I suppose is meant to put me at ease but quite literally does the opposite. I try not to watch him climb over the bed but even that is done with the grace of a panther. Oh, I bet all the ladies in the room want to be on that bed with him. The thought sends jealousy clogging my thoughts and I have to remind myself that this man is not mine.
He never was. He never will be.
I stand awkwardly out of frame, my heart thumping in my chest at the thought of what is going to happen next. I’ve always wanted to be an actress, but this is a lot for someone who is just debuting.
For the tenth time, I consider running away but that would kill my chances of ever working as an actress ever again. I would hate to be labeled as the run-away actress or heaven forbid, the no-show actress.
Oh, who am I kidding? A part of me – that little part of me that obsessed over this man for years – wants to know what it’s like to feel his hands on me. To be in bed with him.
To be a couple, even if we’re just acting.
I nearly jump when the music starts playing. This is not the first-time hearing Alex sing or this song in particular – it was played back in the meeting room – but something about listening to Alex’s voice drawl about a love affair with the man lying on the bed staring at me proves to be too much for my system.
I wonder who he wrote that song for.