Say You Love Her, An L.A. Love Story (4 page)

“Does that bother you? Me calling him Belmont?”

“Kind of.”

She laughs. “How about I call him Jack if I get to know him better.”

“If? Why If?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know Daisy that well. Maybe she’s just being nice because...”

“Because of what?”

“Because my mother’s sick—very sick.” She sighs.

I take a long look at her. Angelina’s hair is pulled back into a ponytail. The kissable parts of her face are on full display. The light turns green, and the time I can spend indulging in her beauty ends.

After another moment, I say, “Daisy’s not inauthentic. If she wants you around it’s not because she pities you.”
 

“Is that so?” She puts her hand over her mouth when she
 
yawns.

“It is certainly so.”

“They’ve just gotten married, haven’t they?”

“Yep.” I’m shocked that I don’t want to punch something after answering that question.

“He’s a very good-looking guy.”

“That’s what I hear.”

She snickers, detecting my cynicism. “You’re just as good-looking.”

I scoff.
 

“You are. You’re brothers so you look alike but have different styles. I’m surprised how much Daisy and I look alike since we have different mothers. I guess our father has strong genes.” She chuckles.

“Jacques Blanchard?”
 

She signals her agreement with a hum in the pillow-talk tone.

“He’s a legend.”

She nods slowly.

“Here we are.” I pull up in front of the subterranean garage and press the remote control to lift the door.

Angelina inches her body forward to examine my house. It’s your average single-story beach house with lots of windows. I had it rebuilt and moved away from the cliff four years ago after having a geological test done. The guy said the cliff was unstable, and the house was too close. A series of hard rains and it would take a tumble.
 

“Very nice,” she says.

“Thanks.” It was my design concept from top to bottom.

I get out of the car and open the door for her. As she gets out I sneak a peek at her heart-shaped ass. She bumps into my crotch. I look her in the eyes for any signs that she felt my stiff.

“After you,” she says, sing-songy. As far as I can tell, she didn’t feel it.

I turn the lights on once we’re inside.

“Is that the…” She steps toward the glass windows in the living room. “Ocean?”

I stop behind her. “Nice?”

“Very nice. I don’t know why the ocean makes me miss the bayous. It might have something to do with nature.”

“How long have you been in California?”

“Two months. I’m here off and on, whenever I take a job. The lease is up on the furnished apartment I’m renting next week.”

Being that close to her ass is driving me mad, so I step beside her. “Then what?”

“I’ll probably go back to Louisiana, if my mom lets me. If not, then Manhattan. I have friends there.”

“Whoa. If she lets you?”

Angelina turns to stare off in the opposite direction. “She doesn’t like for me to see… The way she is. She has stage-four cancer, and it’s spread through her body. I can’t believe she convinced me to stay away. She’s very charming.” Angelina sniffs and wipes her eyes. “Sorry, I’m just sleepy.”
 

I want to ask if I can give her a hug, but I’m still hard. So I hold my hand out. I’m pleased that she takes it.
 

“I’ll show you to your room,” I say.

My heart and dick are both throbbing as she walks a step behind me. She’s Daisy’s sister, for goodness’s sake. My palms are sweating. Her hand is warm and a little damp from wiping her tears.

We arrive at the bedroom next to mine. “Guest room number one,” I say.

She steps inside, turning in circles, inspecting the space. “Very nice. Very beachy and manly.”
 

“I’m taking that as a compliment.”
 

“Absolutely.” She touches me on the shoulder, and I glance at her hand. “And thank you for saving me from the drive to Long Beach tonight.”

“Anytime…” I want to throw her on top of the bed and get real intimate with her heart-shaped ass, which is why I say goodnight but invite her to knock on my door if she needs anything. I’m hoping for
anything
.

Chapter 3

The House Guest

I take a lukewarm shower. An hour later, I’m on top of my bed staring at the pattern-less ceiling. I wonder what Angelina is doing. She took a shower earlier. I passed her room as I went to the kitchen to get a drink. The lights were on, but it was quiet in there. I’m jolted by the sound of my cell phone ringing. I look at the name on the screen. It’s Monroe.

I hesitate. I don’t really want to talk to her tonight, but maybe she’s calling about the script. So I slide the talk button. “What’s going on?” I ask.

“Are you asleep?” She’s putting on a seductive purr.
 

This is clearly not a work-related call. “I answered the phone, didn’t I?”
 

“Are you alone?”

“No, Angelina’s here. But you know that.”

“Is she in your bed?”

“Why would she be in my bed?” Monroe doesn’t say anything. “Isn’t Shane in yours?”

“He left. I told him I had a headache.”

I snort. “Do you?”

“Not if you come over.”

“Are you propositioning me?”

Her laugh is alluring. “Only if it’s working.”

I flip on my side to look toward the room where Angelina is sleeping. I don’t know what I want at the moment. I’ve been waiting a long time to receive a call like this from Monroe.
Angelina is Daisy’s sister
, a tiny voice says in my head. It’s best to forget about her if I can.

“It’s working,” I say and sit up. “I’ll be there soon.”

Monroe’s house smells like vanilla. Candles are burning in the foyer and in sconces on the walls in the hallway. It’s an elaborate scheme, but Monroe’s entire presentation is ostentatious. She has nothing on but a tank top and thong panties. Her legs are long; her ass is scrumptious, and so are her tits. So why the hell can I only remember that heart-shaped ass that got me all hot and bothered earlier?
 

I follow her down a hallway. It’s wide and hollow. This house is too big for one woman. “Do you want a drink?” she asks.

I figure we should just go ahead and start the festivities. I grab her from the back and push her up against the wall, grinding my half-hard dick against her ass. She spins around and shoves her tongue in my mouth. I don’t see Daisy’s face while kissing her. I don’t see anyone—not even her. I tell myself that I want this as I stuff fingers into her warm and wet pussy. My dick is getting harder.
 

“Fuck me right here,” she whispers breathlessly.

I suck the skin of her neck between my teeth as I take a condom out of my pocket. She kisses me greedily as I rip the wrapper. Her tongue fucks my ear as I spread the rubber over my dick. When it’s on I lift her legs off the floor, and she fastens them around my waist. I fumble at the crotch of her panties.

She gasps, grinding her pussy eagerly against my cock. “Yank them off.”
 

Her wish is my command. I tug at the flimsy string on her hip and they unsnap from somewhere and I’m clutching red silk.
 

We exchange grins. I like how easy she made it. I kiss her mouth, tasting her tongue. I murmur over how soft she is and pin her tighter against the wall. Her fingernails dig into my back through my shirt, and her legs still have me in a vice grip. Monroe moans, as if aching to be penetrated. She whimpers when I thrust my dick inside of her.
 
I pound the fuck out of her. Monroe is an experienced pleasure-seeker so she knows how to sway her hips at the right angle to catch an orgasm. I’m doing all the heavy lifting, but she’s the one who’s running the show. Her pussy springs to life around my dick. It’s turning me on.
 

“You like that, baby?”

“Don’t stop,” she cries. Our noises echo around us.

The faster I go, the harder it is to keep from spraying one off. She sings my name in a high-pitched tone. Her pussy pulses and her body trembles. That’s my cue. “Shit!” I shout and thrust my head back and come so hard that my legs almost buckle. I hold firm on my feet until I’m done.
 

“Round one,” Monroe says and circles her tongue around mine.

I suck her bottom lip into my mouth, and then slowly let go of it. “I can’t stay,” I say, panting.
 

“I’m not going to beg you, Charlie Lord, but I want you to stay.” The bottoms of her feet slap the floor.
 

“Shit.” I catch the condom before her hasty movement yanks it off. “I still can’t stay,” I say, and for two reasons. First, I still can’t get over flying all the way from Martha’s Vineyard, willing to concede and walk away from any day-to-day involvement with her goddamn movie only to find her half-naked and alone with Shane. Granted, we weren’t in a relationship, I give her that, but of all people—Shane? It’s a tough one to forget even after forgiving.
 
Secondly, I’m eager to return home and be wherever the hell Angelina is. I’ll admit that I like being around her. She’s intriguing as hell.

“So you just wanted me to get you off?” she snaps.

I point up the hallway. “Isn’t the bathroom up that way?”

“Yes. You didn’t answer my question.” She’s leaning against the wall with her hip poked out.

 
“Isn’t that why you called?”

“Not for you to fuck me in the hallway and then leave. What did you do, sneak out of your house or something?”

I blink, caught off guard. “Huh?”

“I know you’ve got a thing for Angelina.”

“What?” Was it that obvious? I have to say something to lead her off the Angelina track. “It’s Shane. He’s the reason.” I throw it out there. It’s worth a try. It’s even sort of true.
 

She snickers and pushes away from the wall. She walks to me seductively and takes me by the shoulders. “He was something, someone to do. That’s it.”

“And what am I?”

She grabs at my cock, but I stop her. “I thought we were considering being something more.”

Her vibrant eyes and damp skin are scintillating. In the looks department, she’s a twenty. Personality-wise, Monroe’s a wildcard like me. She’s with me today, and tomorrow who the hell knows.
 
I’ve known her since junior high school. That’s how long she and Maggie have been friends. She’s always been beautiful, but she never did it for me. I would’ve never guessed we’d end up like this. However, I figure I should stay a little longer.

I go flush the condom and take a piss. I don’t know what the hell’s going on with me. I want to be here and then I don’t. I’m walking on shaky ground; everything’s changed.
 

I find Monroe in her bedroom. She’s stripped naked and is lying sideways on top of her high bed. The curtains are open. The trees on the hillside are dark, but the glowing city lights trace the blackness. I climb up on the bed and stretch out beside her. Monroe flips onto her back, and I grip a handful of her closest tit. Her nipple is firm against the palm of my hand.

“So does this mean you’re going to stop halting progress?” I ask as I pinch her nipple. She sucks in a sharp breath between her teeth.

“Does this mean you’re not going to give me any more shit about hiring Mandy Hill?”

My once inflating dick—deflates. “Why her? Of all the actresses we can afford. She’s bat-shit crazy.”

“But she’s a great actress.”

“But she doesn’t look anything like Clara Richardson.”

I’m waiting for her comeback. I turn to see why she’s still quiet. She’s studying my face. “You’re handsome, Charlie. You certainly are Jack’s brother.”

I snort, remembering that was exactly what Angelina said. “Was that supposed to be a compliment?”
 

“No, really. And your body is fantastic.” She slides her hand across my chest. “All those years I couldn’t see it. I mean, I could see it, but I thought you were a junkie.”

I chuckle. “A drug addict junkie?”

“Well, it’s not hard to get there. You’re always inebriated by something. It can’t always be the result of having too much to drink.”

“I’ve never even smoked a joint. But your perfect Jack Lord has done coke, marijuana, ecstasy, speed… you name it, and he’s done it.”

She rolls her eyes. “When are you going to stop being jealous of your brother?”

Suddenly I don’t feel like playing with her nipples, and I stop. “I’m not jealous of Jack.” But the way I said that implies that I am.
 

Monroe hooks her leg around mine. Suddenly there’s a far-off look in her eyes. “I’ve done coke before. It took me five years to kick the habit.”
 

I’m stunned by the revelation. Maggie has never mentioned it. We may argue a lot, but she tells me everything she knows about her friends.

“Does Maggie know about your five-year binge?” I ask.

Monroe shakes her head. “And don’t tell her?” It’s as if she’s pleading for me to keep it quiet.

“I won’t, but why didn’t you? You tell her everything else.”

“Maggie is my Jack. She’s perfect. I’m the opposite.”

I burst out laughing. “Maggie? Perfect? Get the hell out of here. She may not have sniffed the white dragon, but Mags is far from perfect. So tear down the pedestal you put her on.” I sit straight. Hearing Monroe’s opinion of Maggie has shot bolts of energy through me.

“Maggie has it all. She has you, Jack, and now Vincent. You guys are a real family.”

“She’s a pain in my ass. And Vincent is going to be the first to learn that she’s a way bigger commitment-phobe than I will ever be. Two weeks is the longest she’s ever been with a guy. So don’t think Vincent is going to be around for long, because he’s not.”
 

“Well, that got your panties all in a bunch.”

“First of all, I don’t wear panties.” I leap to my feet. “But why the hell do Jack and Maggie get a pass? You all worship the fucking ground they walk on but they have fucking flaws that’ll make you want to fucking kill yourself.”