Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 103931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 520(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 520(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
“So, what are we doing here?” Teagan asks, seeming not to have gotten the same memo as me.
“Getting to know each other . . . I guess.” I shrug.
“Maybe we’re here to air our grievances,” Brad mutters as he sits across from us.
Teagan doesn’t flinch next to me, and I’m not sure how to take it. I’d figured after she rushed off the set and told me it was about him, that he bothered her. She doesn’t seem too disturbed at all.
“Let’s hope not,” I say, not meeting Brad’s eyes.
I don’t need Brad or Teagan knowing I let Paxton touch me very intimately one drunken night, in the middle of a crowded party for everyone to see.
I look over my shoulder to see where everyone else is and find Michael heading our way. He smiles broadly at the three of us sitting together, likely misinterpreting our proximity as a good sign. Paxton must realize Michael is waiting for him, so he nods and heads over.
“Since Teagan and Brad are having a hard time connecting, we’re hoping that a few opportunities to get to know each other with people they trust around might help.”
“What can we do?” I ask, ready to get this shit show on the road.
“The thing is, Stefan wants each activity to tie into upcoming shots.”
“And how do we go about that?” Paxton asks, sounding just as confused as me.
Thankfully.
“Instead of just running lines, Stefan wants them to understand the feelings associated with being stranded on an island. He wants you two to play along. Act as though you are also stranded here.”
My eyes widen.
“What?” Paxton and I say in unison, both clearly mystified by the request.
“I’m not an actress,” I say, looking back and forth between Michael and Paxton.
“Could’ve fooled me.” Paxton mumbled the words under his breath, and I believe only I heard him.
I refuse to let him get to me in front of this group, so I ignore him.
“Mallory and Paxton, since you both have voiced concerns, as well, Stefan thought it would be best for you both to oversee the process by being players. Since your time on the island is short, this is the best way not to lose any time with filming and give you both peace of mind that issues are being resolved.”
The panic I’m feeling is real.
Maybe the crazy-ass director is on to something, after all.
That or I might actually turn this into a murder mystery.
Paxton, be warned . . . keep your distance.
20
Paxton
@Stargossip: Playing games is all well and good . . . until someone gets hurt in the middle of a half-deserted island with a crazy crew of nobodies.
@GeterDone: Recipe for disaster . . .
@FMeRunning: @GeterDone More like a lawsuit in the making!
@Deathtothesystem: These people are deranged. Who’s allowing this shit show to continue?
I’m typically a nice guy, but I become unhinged whenever I’m around Mallory.
Case in point, today.
What the fuck is she wearing? She might not have noticed because we were in the middle of a verbal sparring, but while we walked through the crew’s hangout to get here, all eyes were on her. It wasn’t a good thing. Some of these guys haven’t been laid in . . . well, ever if their greasy appearance and creepy vibes are any indicators.
What the hell was Stefan thinking with this crew?
No one on this island should see her like that.
Only me.
No, fuck that. Not only me. No one.
If it weren’t for the fact that I take my business seriously, I’d already be off this godforsaken island.
Unfortunately, I can’t, and instead, I have to torture myself by being surrounded by a woman who, no matter how hard I try, I can’t stop thinking about. What would it feel like to slip inside her? To feel her walls close in around my cock, milking my orgasm like a fucking pro.
Jesus, Pax.
If things were going well here, I’d be on the first plane back to get as far away from her as possible. But since I put this idea together, not only do I feel I owe Brad this movie, but I owe the author, the screenwriter I brought in, and also Stefan. Which is why I’m sitting on this damn towel about to partake in some bullshit team-building activity, pretending to be stranded on an island. Whatever the hell that entails.
News flash . . . I basically am.
Michael steps forward. “Obviously, you are here because Stefan believes we can get this movie to where it needs to be.”
Fucking Michael and his incessant need to drag out shit that doesn’t need to be.
“Just tell us what he wants us to do,” Brad gripes, and for the first time in a very long time, I’m with Brad.
“He wants you to play a game called what makes you tick.”
“What the hell is that?” Brad says, head bouncing from person to person for clarification.