Noah (19 page)

"The couple shit?" he quipped.

I inclined my head and smirked. "That’s right. Besides, I thought we said no sex."

"
You
said that. I was being hypothetical."

Good to know. I gathered his hand in mine and pulled out my phone. "Dinner out. Then…yeah, like I could keep my mitts to myself at this point." Ridiculous. I found the number to our driver and pressed the phone to my ear. "I'll have you chained to my bed if it's up to me."

"Oh, kinky." He smiled. "Will I ever get to feel your fine butt, too? I prefer it when you top, but…you know…"

Fuck. For a beat, that had me anxious. I'd never fucking bottomed. But with patience and preparation—and maybe a shot of whiskey—of course I wanted that with Julian.

"I'm sorry," he said quickly, "I'm getting ahead of—"

"I'm all for equality." I winked. "Just be gentle with me."

His jaw dropped. "You're…you're…"

"Yeah, an ass virgin. I can be wild in the sack, but I'm not
that
experienced." That was when the driver answered, so I tuned out the sex talk and focused on getting us out of here.

Holy shit, I was stoked. If being with Julian before had offered an immense relief, besides the obvious one, it had nothing on this.

*

That night, I got exactly what I wanted. We found a bistro by the river and dined outside while the sun set, and for the first time, everything was completely at ease and relaxed between us. I'd lowered my defenses and could tell him more about what this year had looked like in my noggin.

We sat next to each other as I shared the conflict, the guilt, the mourning, how I'd fought my feelings and why. In return, Julian rolled his eyes and told me again he was an adult. I had no responsibility toward him, but I couldn’t help that part. If we didn't protect family, what did we do? It was how I functioned, and thankfully he understood. But he called me stubborn several times.

"I can relate on some level," he conceded as a waiter brought us new drinks. "I've dealt with the sense of…
wrongness
, I suppose, since I was sixteen and saw you in a very new light." He paused and dipped a piece of bread into his ratatouille. "But with everything else, I guess wanting more with you wasn't that much of an issue anymore."

It was the "everything else" I wanted to know. It was more than losing our family.

"I get it." I scooped up the last of my salmon and salad on my fork and crammed it into my mouth. "So the Nicky shit was an attempt to move on, right?"

"Well, yes." He shifted in his seat. That topic made him uncomfortable. "I made a mistake there." He cocked a brow and sent me a little smirk. "Not unlike you and all your one-night stands, I'm sure."

"Ouch," I coughed on a chuckle. "Touché." I shook my head and wiped my mouth. "I don't really remember it. Just going out to get wasted, and then… I drank even more when I couldn’t get you out of my head."

"I'll take some weird pleasure in that," he told me with a grin. "I was so jealous."

I felt bad, 'cause I knew the feeling. "Ditto. Seeing you with that motherfucker… Christ, it made me boil." I took a sip of my beer. "While we're on that subject, I should probably tell you what happened the last day on the set in LA."

He rolled his eyes and sat back, full. "You mean when you threatened to blacklist him in the industry? He told me."

Ah, all right. "I followed through, too."

"You mean…"

I nodded. "Before our flight, I made some calls. It's not impossible for him to get work, but he can kiss the major studios goodbye." And I wasn't even sorry. "He threatened me, Julian. I don't respond well to that. I want us to go out in public; case in point—" I waved a hand at where we were. "But it will always be on my terms—or ours, obviously. That cocky little shit needed to be taken down." Seeing he had food left, I pointed to his plate next to mine. "You gonna eat that?"

He shook his head in amusement. "Go ahead."

I fished out what was left of the lamb chop and dug in on the ratatouille and bread.

"I ended things with him, you know." He gave my thigh a squeeze. "That was why I showed up intoxicated at the LA wrap party. I called him to say I didn't want him in my life anymore, and he felt the need to tell me I was pathetic for pining after you. I suppose it struck a chord. Or eleven. So I had a few drinks."

Perhaps I'd call a couple more people to ensure Nicky would have the mother of struggles to get anywhere.

"For his sake, he better not show his mug around me again." I scooted my chair closer to his so I could kiss his cheek. I didn't know if all restaurant tables were tiny in Paris, or if it was just here outside, but it worked for me. I could stuff my face and be handsy at the same time. "Topic change? I wanna focus on us."

"I'm okay with that." He seemed to think it was funny how much I ate, but he couldn’t be surprised. "This is certainly about us: do you think we can keep things professional around work and colleagues?" He bit his lip, appearing nervous. "You know I feel guilty about being your PA without even having applied for it, and adding romance to it…"

I understood that completely. Work was for work. It was how I wanted it, anyway. I couldn’t afford distractions on set.

"Besides, I've been thinking," he went on. "At some point soon, I need to tell my grandparents I'm gay. I don't have to tell them we're doing
couple shit
if you're not comfortable; this is very new. But I have to be honest about who I am. I've hidden that for too long."

I took that as progress. "I'm with you every step, baby." Perhaps it meant he was ready to say why he'd felt the need to hide his sexuality. Aside from some slight apprehension around Tennyson and Sophie when they'd learned he was dating Nicky, Julian had acted pretty natural. As if he'd been out for a longer time. "You're prepared for them not approving of us, right?"

He nodded and looked down. "Yeah." When he faced me again, he wore half a smile. "It won't stop me, though."

Damn, that tugged at the heartstrings.

I swallowed and gripped his chin, quick to kiss him. "It wouldn’t have stopped me, either." He needed to know this was big for me, as well. "I want this—you and me."

He nodded quickly and kissed me harder, and we spent the rest of the dinner being sickeningly lovey-dovey and talking about more sights we could see when we were off work.

It almost felt too good to be true.

Chapter 17

Two weeks later

"From the second mark!" Lucia hollered before turning to me. "We have approximately forty minutes before we lose too much light."

I nodded and turned, and Julian extended my little notebook and my coffee to me. "Okay, let's get crackin', then. Cheers, kid." I took a sip of my coffee, waiting for the actors to get back to their marks.

Sophie crossed the cobblestone street to the door that was supposed to lead to her apartment, and the two men playing her brother and ex—also the father of her son—took their marks on the curb.

Going through my notes, I frowned and wondered why I wasn’t satisfied with the scene. Something was missing, but I didn't know what. I squinted over at Sophie. Brooklyn was doing a quick touch-up, and it hit me. Sophie wasn't looking unkempt enough.

We hadn't shot the scene that followed this one yet, so I could add changes. Walking over, I told them about my idea, and Brooklyn got started. Sophie suggested a tear in her dress, and I ran with that. Indecency wasn’t the picture of good parenting, so a three-inch rip exposing more of her chest would sure as fuck work.

"Should I worry about the fact that you are undressing my wife, Noah?" Tennyson called from behind us.

"Yeah, I finally convinced her to run away with me," I said.

Lucia joined us, and I told her to tell the script supervisor about the change. While we spoke of continuity and additions, I overheard Sophie giggling about her not being my type. And it wasn’t the first time I'd heard something similar and laden with innuendo since we'd arrived in Paris.

"You got somethin' to tell me, Sophie?"

"Hmm?" She grinned and exchanged one of those girly giggle expressions with Brooklyn. "I'm not sure what you're referring to."

"Cut the shit." I waited until Lucia had left, and then I sent Sophie a look to show I meant business.

She sighed. "Fine." She looked to be struggling pretty fucking hard to withhold her smile. "Rumor has it you're dating your former PA now."

"Rumor?" I rolled my eyes.

"One of my girls saw you." Brooklyn rushed out the words as if she couldn’t bear keeping them in any longer. "You and Mike were kissing by the bathrooms at the bar."

Ri-fucking-diculous. "Well, gossip broads, do I got news for you." I draped my arms around their shoulders and huddled us closer. "Am I batting for the other team now? It would appear so. But the batting doesn’t involve Michael, whatsoever. The kid kissed me, and then I went home with someone else."

Brooklyn furrowed her brow as she tried to figure it out, and Sophie looked to me expectantly.

Fuck that.

"Now, back to work," I said firmly. Turning around, I let out a sharp whistle that got every crewmember to pick up the fucking pace. This was a movie set, not a goddamn gossip factory.

Thankfully, even Sophie and Brooklyn took me seriously, and I returned to my monitor and put on my headphones.

"Any problems?" Tennyson asked.

I shook my head. "Not for me, anyway. But you might wanna prepare yourself for a shrieked 'you knew this all along and didn't tell me?' from that little ball of energy you married."

"Oh, joy." Tennyson chuckled. "So this means…?" He lifted a brow.

I glanced over at an oblivious Julian and stifled a grin. "Yeah. It's not official yet, though."

Tennyson smiled and nodded but didn’t say anything, fully aware we were in the middle of work.

"Camera rolling!" Lucia called out.

I faced the monitor again, my gaze flicking between the screen and the actors. Then I called for action and concentrated on Joel, who played April's ex.

His despair was written all over him, and he visibly struggled to keep it together as he approached April by her door.

"Is—Is he up there?" he asked tightly. "I deserve to know, April. I'm his dad—" He swallowed hard, both angry and sad it had come to this. He was worried as fuck, having not seen his son in months. "We're here to help."

"You're lying," Sophie said flatly. "You want to take him away from me."

April's brother stepped closer. "You're not well, butterfly. Please let us take care of you. We love you so much."

"Cut!" I yelled. Goddammit, when Joel finally nailed his part, the other fucked up and acted with less emotion than a robot.

"I'll go talk to him," Lucia said.

Looking over my shoulder, I saw Tennyson walking toward my trailer. "You not sticking around, Wright?"

"Nope," he said with ease. "This was why I wanted you to direct, Noah. You know what you're doing, and we share the same vision."

I grinned to myself and returned to work.

*

I had a late dinner with Tennyson, Lucia, and Shawn that day, so it was nearing midnight when I finally dragged my tired ass back to the hotel. I expected to find Julian passed out in bed with Blue, but he was sitting by the desk, flipping through a notepad.

Damn, he was a sight for sore eyes. Seeing him brightened my mood regardless of how I was feeling.

"Hey, baby." I rolled my neck and removed my belt, looking forward to a shower. "I thought you'd be asleep."

He looked up from the desk and bit on a pen. "You gave my homework, Mr. Collins. Don’t you remember?"

Well, fuck me.

I unbuttoned my jeans, looking him over. It wasn’t until then I noticed he was dressed like a fucking schoolboy. Button-down, uniform jacket. A pair of glasses sat on the desk. I couldn’t see what pants he wore, but I was itching to find out.

"Close your eyes and hold that thought," I told him. Suddenly I wasn’t tired anymore, and I wanted to do this right. While his eyes were closed, I got a pair of dress pants and a nice shirt and tie from the closet. "I need a quick shower, all right? You can open your eyes when I've left the room." I grabbed shoes, too. It was all or nothing.

"Yes, sir," he said with a smile in his voice. "I'll finish my homework."

It was the fastest shower in history, and I fought a hard-on the entire time. But I was getting used to that. We'd lived together for a year now, though it didn’t hold a candle to sharing a suite with him when there was nothing to hold us back.

We hadn't had many opportunities to go out and see more of Paris together, but we'd sure as fuck taken advantage of our bed. Tonight, it looked like we'd get use of the desk.

After drying off, I put on the pants Sophie had bought me for the party in LA. I zipped up carefully and then buttoned my shirt. I tucked it in, went on with the tie, then put on my shoes. That'd do.

Time to see what homework I supposedly gave Julian.

I strode out of the bathroom with purpose, wanting him to get the full experience. No pussy-ass teacher here. I could be a strict motherfucker when the situation called for it.

Julian lost composure for a beat as he spotted me. Parted lips, eyes widening, and then a whispered curse as he dropped his gaze and became the student he wanted to be for tonight.

"All right, let's see what you've got, Mr. Hartley." I rolled up the sleeves of my shirt and came to his side of the desk. "You realize you have to impress me if you want me to change your grade, yes?"

"I, uh…yes. Um." He side-eyed me as I leaned back against the desk right next to him.

There was no way I'd let him get off with a cliché "I'll do whatever you want if you give me an A" fantasy. The power should be in the teacher's hands, yeah? Not the fucking student.

"They're, um, terms I heard at work." He tapped a finger on the piece of paper. "Instead of asking you what they mean, I researched and looked them up myself. But I didn’t finish all of them."

I withheld a smile. It did things to me, that he was serious about learning the language we spoke on set. He could've gone with anything for this. Even though we'd joked about it, me giving him homework, it didn’t really matter until now when I saw he actually meant it.

"I thought maybe you could test me?" he asked.

"Fair enough." I pushed off the desk and leaned over him a bit to see what he'd scribbled down. His breathing quickened, and I took longer than necessary to read his list. It was only the terms, not the meanings, so this should be fun. "Okay, start with the first one. Explain who the gaffer is."

*

"Excellent." I massaged his shoulders slowly, keeping him flustered. He was good, though. He'd done a great job at memorizing a shitload of terms, and we were already halfway down the list. "And the next one. If a director says broom it, what does he mean?"

Julian stuttered on a breath as I subtly pressed my erection against his back.

"It-It means he wants it—something removed from the set."

He was catching on. He'd noticed I rewarded correct answers with not-so-accidental touches. As for incorrect answers… I got stricter. I was catching on too, and it was clear he enjoyed a firm fucking hand.

"Very good." I stifled a groan as I eased away to give my cock a solid squeeze. If I didn’t get out of these pants soon, I'd go postal. "If you know the next one, I'll be impressed."

"
Gone with the Wind
in the morning,
Dukes of Hazzard
after lunch," was the saying. Tennyson had quietly used the phrase on me last week as a reminder, and Julian must've overheard it.

"I know it, I know it," he promised. "Um. Fuck—"

"Watch your mouth." I grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked his head back. He gasped, eyes growing large. "You do not curse in my office."

"Yes, sir."

I nodded and let go, and he struggled to remember the task at hand.

"The answer, Mr. Hartley. Don’t waste my time."

"I'm sorry, I don’t remember," he said quickly, a blush spreading across his cheeks. "Only that it was something about not spending too much time on…something…"

"I need more than that." I walked over to the seating area and grabbed the leather belt I'd worn all day. "If you know
anything
about film, it's self-explanatory."

The patronizing tone was evidently effective. It turned me on beyond belief to see him so worked up. It was as if he got really lost in the moment, and I liked it more than I could say. Fuck, imagine all the kinky fun we could have.

I returned to the desk, the belt in a firm grip, and I told him to stand up and put his hands on the tabletop.

"I don't have all day, little boy," I growled.

"Oh, fuck." He sucked in a breath and scrambled to obey me.

When I had him where I wanted him, I took a step back to watch him from behind. I stroked my cock through my pants, all the possibilities of where to take it from here rushing through my head.

"Push down your pants," I ordered.

"Um, but, sir—"

"Do it," I snapped. "I thought you came prepared, but you don't seem to know very much."

"I'm sorry." He fidgeted with his zipper and trembled as he yanked his black pants past his delectable ass. "Is there anything I can do for you to forgive me?"

There it was. That line.

It wouldn’t work with me.

How strict would I be if he could win me over with a blow job?

I don't think so, kid.

Leaning over him, I brushed a hand over his crack and spoke quietly in his ear. "You can give me the right fucking answer, Mr. Hartley." I rubbed and squeezed his ass cheeks, warming them up for his punishment. "You won't tell anyone about my…
unconventional
methods, will you? Hmm?"

"No, Mr. Collins," he breathed out. "I promise."

"Good boy." I backed off a bit and gave his ass a smack. He yelped then moaned, and I did it again. "Now, think back. What was going on when you heard that phrase? What were we doing, and so on."

He went on to ramble nervously about the filming, what scene we'd been shooting, and I took the opportunity to get the lube from the nightstand. Blue blinked sleepily, licked her paw, and then she was out again. Lazy little shit.

"Can I please have a hint, sir?"

I hummed. "It's going to cost you."

"Anything."

I stroked his ass and set down the lube in front of him. That had his attention…until I raised the belt and let it make a resounding impact on his left ass cheek.

"Oh my fuck, Noah!"

I nearly lost it right there. "What did you call me?" Needing to touch him, I let go of the belt and grabbed his hips, pulling him back to me. A few inches south, I found his cock smooth, hard, and leaking. "Jesus Christ, you're making a mess."

"I…I…God, I'm trying to remember…" He moaned as I scraped my teeth along his neck. "I want to be good, I promise."

He'd get his hint.

After I learned how fast I could turn his ass red.

I used both the belt and my hand, and every now and then, I reached around him to rub his cock and spread the pre-come up and down his shaft and balls. At one point, I almost stopped. His eyes were welling up, but before I could worry myself to death, he choked out that he was close.