Captive Films: Season One

Riley narrows his eyes and stalks toward her. “I asked how did you get in?”


“The doorman let me up. He’s seen me here, a lot,” she stresses, looking directly at me.

“Um, I’m just gonna go,” I say, defeatedly. “I’ll let you two figure this out.”

“Don’t you go anywhere,” Riley says to me in a tone that sounds a lot like Collin’s.

“I don’t mind,” the blond coos. “She can join in our fun too.”

I’m horrified by her words.

I could never share Riley.

He grabs her by the arm and escorts her to the elevator.

“I have to get my stuff!” she protests. “I can’t drive home like this!”





When he takes her into the bedroom, I see my chance. I hit the button on the elevator and get the hell out of here.

I run out of the elevator in tears and slam into the doorman.

“Oh, my,” he says. “You no like three people?”

“No, I don’t,” I say, pushing past him and out the front door.

It’s at that moment I realize I don’t have a car.

So I take my heels off and run down the sidewalk. Far away from the boy who still holds my heart captive.





Monday, September 29th

Riley’s Penthouse - L.A.

RILEY





I hear the elevator ding, meaning Ariela left.

I hold my head in my hands wondering what the fuck just happened.

Shelby tries to make it better by kissing me. But as soon as she gets close, I back away, touching my lips. The lips Ariela’s mouth was just on.

I don’t say anything, just glance at the floor. I’m so pissed and so full of adrenaline, I’m worried I might accidentally kill this girl.

I’m shocked when she immediately drops to her knees and takes my cock into her eager little mouth.

And, yeah, I let her.

So what?

I’m drunk.

When she’s done, I politely take her down the elevator, tip the valet when he brings her car, and as I’m closing her door, I say sternly, “Don’t you ever fucking come back.”

Then I march into the lobby and grab the doorman by his shirt. “Don’t you EVER fucking let ANYONE in my home without my permission. I could have you fired for this and, quite frankly, I should.”

“Please, no, Mr. Johnson. I see the girl with you before and she said she was going to surprise you. I was trying to help.”

“Don’t EVER LET ANYONE IN MY HOME AGAIN. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir. Yes, sir.”

I go back to my apartment, strip off my clothes, stagger to the shower, and try to wash off the slimy way I feel.





I lie down in my bed and consider calling Ariela.

I remember all those nights we would talk from curfew until we knew it was safe to sneak out and be in each other’s arms again.

What the fuck do I have to lose?

I pull up her contact, which I may have stolen from Keatyn’s phone earlier.

So sue me.

I’m surprised when she answers with a pissed off sounding, “Hello?”

“Did you get home okay?” I ask her, worried about her taking off in the middle of the night.

“Yeah, I got a cab, Riley.”

“You left. Why did you leave?” I know I’m sounding drunk and whiny, but I don’t care. I have to know. Not about tonight, but me back then.

“Because there was a girl in your bed.”

“She wasn’t in my bed. And I don’t want her.”

“Never mind, Riley,” she says in her pissy tone. It’s sad that I still remember every pitch of her voice. “You're single and you clearly love it.”

This pisses me off.

“I’m single, Ariela, because you didn't marry me. And, once again, you just left with no fucking explanation. So why don't you go the fuck back to wherever you came from and go fuck your husband. I don't want you in my life. Do you understand me? Stay the fuck away from me and my friends.”

I hang up the phone and cry in a way I haven’t done since my senior graduation.





Tuesday, September 30th

Keatyn & Aiden’s beach house - Malibu

KEATYN





I wake up feeling refreshed, but notice it’s still dark. A glance at the clock tells me I haven’t slept for all that long. It’s only three o’clock.

I snuggle my chest into Aiden’s back, wrap my arms around him, and try to go back to sleep.

Except, I can’t.

Because in trying to put myself back to sleep, I decide to gently rub his chest.

But rubbing his chest leads to me rubbing his abs, which draws my hand across his v-line and, well, we all know where that leads.

I tell myself that I’m just being nice. Giving him a massage. But, really, I’m only massaging one part of him.

His dick springs to life before he does.

I can’t believe I’m molesting him in the middle of the night. We had sex before we went to sleep.

Although that doesn’t stop me. Especially when he makes a sexy little moan.

I kiss his neck and rub my boobs against his back in further effort to wake him up.