Steal (Seaside Pictures #3)

I frowned and leaned back in my chair, “But—”

“You can only control your own choices, not other peoples, so someone hurts you, you gonna lash out and do something to punish them back? That only hurts you. Ruins your own life by your own choices. That’s all I’m saying.”

“Were you a shrink in another life?” I rolled my eyes even though I was secretly impressed by her words.

“Yeah, something like that.” She finished up with my hair. “All done. Oh, and, I was going through wardrobe. Time for Will to change.”

Yeah, time for Will to change back into the one I fell in love with.

Because that was easy.

When you still loved him.

“Yeah, I’ll send him in.”

I saw Will a few hours later and tried to convince myself not to react to the way he smiled at me, the way he made my body feel by simply existing in the same atmosphere.

It didn’t help that for some insane reason wardrobe wanted him shirtless in nothing but leather pants.

What type of torture was this?

We were filming a club scene, and I wanted to die a bit inside.

I didn’t do clubs anymore.

Hell, did I even still know how to dance?

Everything about it made my stomach sick. Because it used to be my scene. My life had been all about being seen in places like this.

I couldn’t even look in the direction of the bathroom. It reminded me of the drugs; it reminded me of the parties, the sex, and lastly being on the front of so many magazines as the party girl in a downward spiral.

What a sad, sad Hollywood story.

I shuddered.

“Got your lines?” Jay asked.

I glared. “Got them, and is it necessary we make out while dancing?”

Jay cupped his ear. “What was that? Thank you Jaymeson? Was that what you just said? What? Did you forget how to kiss? Dance? Shake your ass, move your shoulders, you’ll be just fine, love.”

“Jaymeson.” I clenched my teeth. “He’s not wearing a shirt.” I pointed at Will who was still talking with Zane over in the corner, apparently they’d made up after their fight.

Jay glanced over at Will, “So?”

“So, he needs… clothing.” I gulped.

Jay’s eyebrows shot up. “Tell you what, I’ll give him a shirt the minute you nail this scene, don’t let me down, remember, you say your lines, the music starts, we’ll add it on for this scene so you get a good rhythm, and then cut it for the film, right?”

I gave him a jerky nod and took my spot near the dance floor, sipping what looked like a drink but was really sparkling water.

Before I knew what was happening the scene had slated, the main characters were doing their lines while I stayed glued to my spot, and when they moved past me, glaring like I was the enemy because duh, in the movie I kind of was.

I hung my head.

Shame washed over me.

It felt too real.

And when I looked up there was Will, across the room, leaning against the wall, looking absolutely lethal.

God had been so good, he was such… a man.

Strong in all the right places.

Confident.

He had his swagger back.

And I both loved and hated him for it. Story of my life where my love and hate for one man combusted until I wasn’t able to do anything but long after him.

He made his way through the dancing bodies and stopped when we were nearly head-to-head. Then wordlessly offered his hand.

I took it.

Completely forgetting the lines I was supposed to say as Halsey started pumping loudly through the room.

I’d always loved dancing.

At least dancing with Will.

Being in a boy band had its benefits, it helped white guys who should by all means suck at dancing, learn to move their hips, which also transferred into the bedroom which I would most definitely not think about while his abs were staring me down like they wanted me to touch them.

I swallowed, my throat parched, as bodies started moving around us, moving to the slow melodic rhythm. Will didn’t move.

I was basically a statue.

As if I’d forgotten all about what I was supposed to do.

Grab the guy, dance with the guy, kiss the guy, get the hell out of this nightmare.

Except the guy wasn’t just any guy.

He was the guy who used to be my everything.

The one I couldn’t help but constantly give tiny little pieces to as if he knew what to do with the broken ones — as if he wasn’t still breaking them the minute I handed them over.

Will blinked, and then we were chest-to-chest. I took a much needed deep breath, my lips parting on instinct as his smooth hands moved to my shoulders and then ran down my arms causing chills to erupt all over my body, and then those same hands landed on my hips.

I swayed toward him.

His right hand slid from my hip down my ass.

My body jolted like he’d burned me.

How could a man look both so beautiful and so evil at the same time?

Sinner and saint.

Savior and killer.

My heart hammered, and then his hips rolled against mine, I hissed out a curse as our bodies collided.

And then maybe it was nature, or something else I didn’t want to think about, but our bodies moved in sync like they always had, like they always would.

Will could pass for a sexier version of James Dean with that hair, with that built body. I turned so my back was to him. It was too hard to do the scene looking at him, but he didn’t seem to mind, he just tugged me against him.

My butt collided with leather.

Hard. Leather.

I prayed for forgiveness for maybe the third time in my life as I greedily arched back against him, raising my right arm to hook it around his neck as our bodies ground together.

I forgot how good it felt.

To simply… exist within the air he breathed.

To dance without thoughts of anything past that moment.

I closed my eyes.

He cursed as my hips moved. His hands gripped them tightly, fingers digging into flesh forcing me back against him. I let out a little moan as his nimble fingers started dragging my dress up my thighs, leaving marks where his hands just were.

This wasn’t the Will I used to know.

That was my first mistake.

Forgetting that when I’d last seen Will, he’d been a boy.

This Will was all man.

I felt evidence of it in the way he gripped me, owned me, unapologetically moved against me as if he manipulated the situation, took ownership of my body without even taking off my clothes.

Nope, this Will Sutherland, this man, could make a woman fall to her knees with all their clothes on.

I didn’t realize I was panting until he turned me in his arms, lifting my arms above my head, wrapping them around his neck until we were breathing the same air, until I felt his arousal pressed against me, his body stretched taut, every fiber of muscle tight as if one more movement was going to set him over the edge.