Page 3 of Her Hollywood Master (Master Me #6)

The waitress handed him a menu and took his drink order. “Did you already order?” he asked Marissa.

“I’m not eating,” she said. “Not hungry.”

“You know, at the risk of playing Daddy, I’m going to tell you that I think you need to try to get something in your stomach. You’ll need it with that pill you took, even though it took away your appetite.”

He’d been testing her with the word Daddy , and she didn’t disappoint. Her mouth opened, the flirty smirk returning.

“Okay, Daddy,” she said, looking at him from under her lashes. “What do you suggest I eat?”

His cock went rock hard.

She picked up her cup of tea and sipped it, never removing her eyes from his.

He smiled, a virile sense of power coursing through him at her acceptance of his game. He glanced at the menu. “Any dietary restrictions?” Everyone in Hollywood had a diet they followed, whether vegan, gluten free or whatever the new fad.

“I’m paleo.”

“Paleo,” he repeated, trying to remember what he knew about that diet. “Isn’t that the opposite of vegetarian? All meat?” he teased.

“No grains, no legumes, no dairy, no processed food or refined sugar.”

He winked. “Got it. You’re lucky I’m not vegan or we’d really be at odds today.”

Her lips curved into a sultry smirk. “Then you’d be giving me that spanking with my panties down.”

Oh no she didn’t. He wondered if she knew how close he was to throwing her over his knee right then and there. Now that would make a good tabloid story.

The waitress returned with his iced tea. “We’re ready to order,” he said, shooting a glance at Marissa to see how she’d take his removal of her autonomy. “Marissa will have the steak salad and I’ll try the fish tacos.”

She didn’t look annoyed. If anything, it seemed to please her, a delicate pink shading her cheeks.

“So what’s going on with you?” he asked when the waitress had left.

Her flirty bravado fell away. She dropped her eyes and stared into her cup of tea. “Are you really going to lecture me again? Because I’m not up for it.”

He believed her. She looked fragile, as if emotions bubbled just beneath the surface. Compassion outweighed playing stern. “No, I’m not,” he said gently. “You already have my opinion on the matter.”

“Right,” she said, blushing, but the teasing look returned. “I’d better show up tomorrow, on time, with my lines memorized or you’ll spank my ass.”

He wanted to keep the dominance flirtation going, but protecting his movie came first. He shook his head. “No, I should have spanked your ass two weeks ago. We’re beyond that point, and I hope you know it. One more ruined day of shooting and you’re off the project.”

She didn’t look shocked. She did understand the severity of the situation, after all. Her hand trembled as she brought the teacup to her pouting lips. “I know,” she said when she had swallowed.

The waitress brought their food and despite her claim of not being hungry, she wolfed down her salad, which satisfied him for some reason.

“Feel any better?”

“Are you going to say you told me so?”

He laughed. “Nope.” He handed his credit card to the waitress before she had a chance to leave a bill.

“Thank you for lunch,” Marissa said. “And for not yelling at me.”

“I never yell.”

“You just spank?” she teased, pushing a strand of her honey-brown hair out of her eyes.

“Don’t forget it.” He winked. “Do you need a lift home?”

She picked up her cell phone, looking flustered and swiped the screen. “Oh,” she exclaimed. “Looks like my sister’s waiting outside. Thanks again for lunch,” she said, jumping up.

“Get some rest,” he called after her, stopping to say goodbye to the actors he’d abandoned to sit with her.

“I know, I know,” she said, turning back and giving him an eye roll. “I’ll be back tomorrow ready to film.” She turned and walked swiftly out, looking every bit as frantic and harried as she had when she’d arrived on the set that morning.

He sighed. He sure hoped she would pull it together.

“Thanks a whole lot,” she snarled at Bev when she hopped in the backseat of the Porsche.

Her mom sat shotgun. Of course Marissa had to ride in the back seat—it was only her car, paid for with her money, right?

But, no. As always, her mom and Bev ran the show while little sis picked up the scraps.

“That prescription made my eye twitch and Antonio sent me home for the day. And pretty much, if I don’t show up on time with my lines memorized tomorrow, I’m fired. ”

“They can’t fire you,” her mom said breezily from the front seat. “We have a contract. Besides you know your lines.”

“Yeah, and they’re saying I’m in breach. And I did learn my lines at one point, but I have since forgotten them.”

“Well, that’s not like you, sweetie.”

She clenched her fists, though not even sure who to be angry with or why. Maybe just herself. “Look, I just really need to get some sleep. Can you guys give me some peace and quiet when we get home?”

“Well, sure, but I invited some people over,” Bev said.

Frustration gnawed at her, but she shoved it back down. She was just crabby because she hadn’t slept. Unlike Bev, who could party six days a week without showing any sign of stress, she didn’t do well without at least seven hours of dream time.

When they arrived at her mansion, she slipped into her bedroom (not the master suite—her sister had taken that because.

..well, she couldn’t remember how that happened) and flopped on the bed.

A strange mixture of exhausted and chemically wired, her mind swirled in a foggy mess.

Images of Antonio’s angry face, the uppity make-up girl, and Joel floated before her eyes.

She recalled the feel of Joel’s restraining arms around her—the delicious strength, the way he hadn’t let go even after Antonio had called cut .

And what had all that flirty daddy-talk been about?

Joel didn’t strike her as the lewd sex joke type.

But it hadn’t been lewd, really. And it hadn’t exactly seemed like a joke, either.

She could picture Joel as the old-fashioned strict school-master, bending her over his desk for three strokes of his cane.

Her pussy clenched. She slipped her hand into her panties. God. Joel was a real man, not like the party boy types she always dated. What would it be like to be his girl? Did he like to play spanky panky in the bedroom? Obviously.

She rolled to her belly for better leverage, humping the mattress as her fingers worked their magic.

She returned to her school-room fantasy.

She’d be in a little plaid skirt, of course.

He’d roll up the sleeves of a buttondown shirt.

She undulated her fingers between her legs, the heel of her hand pressing on her clit, her middle finger reaching all the way back to touch her anus.

He would lift her skirt—slowly of course, and pull her panties down himself.

Oh God, that was hot. Then he would tap her exposed buttocks with the cane.

“Count them, Marissa,” he would command.

She came, her pelvic floor lifting and lowering with wave after wave of delicious release. Relaxation seeped into her muscles for the first time in days. She relaxed into the pillow. Maybe she would be able to nap.

Fifteen minutes later, she was lying on her back, reliving the ugly scene with Antonio.

The pill Bev had given her kept her wide awake.

She rolled over and climbed out of bed. Maybe it was better to stay awake now and just get to bed early tonight.

She’d go to her room before Bev’s friends showed up so she wouldn’t have to talk to anyone.

She headed downstairs and plopped herself in front of the television with the script. She looked at the pages, but the words lay meaningless on the page. She rubbed her eyes. Well, she could review it in the morning, after a good night’s sleep. Right now she just needed to veg out.

She flipped through the channels to Hollywood Gossip . She didn’t know why she tortured herself with it, but, like an addict, she just had to check it daily to see if she’d been mentioned.

Supermodel Ella Janes is in Hollywood this week with her new boyfriend Billy Foxx who is playing at Clayton Theater tonight. Rumor has it Marissa Sparks was not in attendance at his concert last night, as things did not end nicely when Foxx dumped her for Janes.

She flipped the channel, her lunch sinking to the bottom of her stomach like a stone.

It shouldn’t surprise her. The gossip had circled that topic relentlessly since August. She scrolled through the channels until she came across an older Joel Sutherland movie.

Just the sound of his voice sent tingles down her spine.

She tucked her legs up under her to watch.

She indulged in movies until dinnertime and then grabbed two nitrate-free all-beef hot dogs from the fridge and sat down to eat them, sans bun.

The dexedrine had started to wear off and exhaustion had set back in.

Her eyelids felt gritty and dry and her brain was moving slowly.

She’d take a nice long bath and go to bed. Tomorrow morning she’d be a new woman.

She heard voices outside and the front door opened. Bev and a boisterous crowd of people filed in. “Let the party begin,” Bev called out happily.

She groaned. Time to hide. She stood up and padded to the foyer, slipping around the corner to the staircase. The sight of a tattooed man stopped her.

No. Way. She wanted to throw up. There, in her living room, stood her sister, her ex-boyfriend, his new supermodel girlfriend and all of his band members.

Before she could bolt for her bedroom, Billy’s blue-gray eyes drifted up the staircase and landed on her. “Heeey Marissa,” he said softly, like she was a spooked dog. He left Ella Janes standing there and headed up the staircase toward her. “I was hoping you’d be here. We really need to talk.”

They did?

“We do?”