A Monster and a Gentleman Read online

“Because it’s unprofessional, because it might mess up the movie, because—”

  Seling kissed her. Fusing their lips together, Seling used his hips to push her back against the door. His cock swelled on contact with her body and he felt the heat of her skin, even through her clothes. He’d had sex in his human body a few times—for scientific purposes, of course—but he never remembered this electric thrill. His need for her was not just a heavy ache in his loins, but seemed to lick across his skin like fire.

  Fire was something he knew.

  Fire was something he liked.

  She jerked her head away, panting. Seling gave her a moment to breathe, deciding to take that opportunity to slip his hand under her shirt, roaming up her chest to cup her breast, which was encased in silky smooth fabric.

  “Tell me,” he said. “Tell me what you like, what you want.”

  “I can’t think when you do that.”

  “What? This?” He rubbed the tip of her breast with his thumb and felt the nipple pebble behind the barrier of fabric.

  “God, yes, that.”

  “Don’t think, just talk. Tell me what you prefer. Do you like to be bound, give up control?” She twitched in his arms, turning wide eyes on him. “Do you like pain, whips?” He pinched her nipple, increasing the pressure until her eyes closed in surrender. “Maybe you want me to fuck you in the water, making you come before you surface for air. Or do you like to be in charge, acting like the goddess you are?”

  Seling himself was panting after that, and Cali was rubbing her hips against his cock. Normally he could tell by a female’s reaction to his words what she preferred, but Cali seemed to react to everything.

  He hoped that meant she would let him do anything he wanted to her.

  “Seling, I don’t know. None of it, all of it, it shouldn’t matter. We’re not going to have sex.”

  “If you don’t want me, say so. If you really believe it will destroy the movie and ruin my people, say so.” Seling took a step back, holding his hands up by his shoulders so she’d know he wouldn’t touch her until she answered.

  Cali opened her eyes, the lust-haze fading a bit. “I want you. You know I do.”

  “I hoped you did.”

  “Yes, I think…” She blew out a breath. “Okay, I don’t really think that the movie will be destroyed if we have sex, but it’s not a good idea.”

  “So it’s a bad idea?”

  “Yes.”

  “My best ideas are always bad.”

  She laughed. “I bet they are. But I’m not into—” she waved her hand in the air, “—all that stuff you mentioned.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  “What?”

  “You are. I felt it.”

  “I mean, it sounds hot, but I’ve never done any of it. And I don’t want to.”

  “You do want to. I felt it.”

  Cali narrowed her eyes, fire flashing in their depths. “I also like a man who listens, which clearly you don’t. Buh-bye.” She turned to leave.

  Seling leapt forward. He pressed his hips against her ass, caging her body with his. “If you don’t want that tonight, then we won’t do it.”

  “If we’re not having sex, then get off me.”

  “I didn’t say we weren’t having sex.” Seling slid his hand between her body and the door. “Just that we’re not going to have complicated sex.”

  “Is that what you call kinky sex?”

  Seling slipped his hand under her shirt. Her skin was smooth and hot against his hand. Cali pushed away from the door, covering his hand with hers. She didn’t try to stop him—she pressed his fingers harder into her breast, shuddering.

  “Kinky sex can be simple,” he whispered in her ear, tangling his fingers with hers and sliding their linked hands under the waistband of her pants. “And plain sex, what do you call it? Vanilla sex, that can be complicated.”

  Cali turned in his arms, their hands slipping away from her body. She examined his face, and Seling felt the intensity of her gaze. Cali grabbed his head and pressed her lips to his. Pleasure rocketed through Seling. She tasted sweet, and different—a human taste, he supposed. Grabbing her hips, he lifted her, sliding his hands under her ass when she wrapped her legs around his waist.

  Cali broke the kiss, and their gazes met. “Fuck it. Let’s do this.”

  Seling’s hands kneaded her ass as he carried her across the small trailer and set her on the counter. Cali hooked her arms tighter around his shoulders while kissing his neck. He smelled like soap and something wild, something foreign. She took a deep breath, wanting to identify the scent, but he set her down on the small counter before she could.

  Cali leaned back, keeping her hands on his shoulders. How delightful that he was already naked. She slipped the towel from around his neck and rubbed the terrycloth over the hard muscles of his chest.

  “Am I dry?” His voice had deepened. She felt the rumble of his words through the contact with his shoulders.

  “You are.” Cali tossed the towel away.

  “Are you?” Seling’s hands kneaded the insides of her thighs. Pleasure tingled up and down her legs.

  One thumb pressed against her core and Cali hissed out a breath. “No. I’m wet.”

  Seling growled a moment before he captured her lips in a kiss. Even as the kiss deepened, he was pushing her jacket off her shoulders. Cali jerked the battery pack from her pants and pulled the headset from around her neck. It tangled in her hair and Cali tugged, her hair falling out of the messy ponytail to spill around her shoulders.

  Seling took a piece of her hair between his fingers, pressing it to his lips.

  “Sweetness later,” Cali gasped, “sex now.”

  “Your bad ideas are good too.”

  Together they pulled her shirt off. Seling’s hands went to her breasts, cupping them, rubbing her nipples through her bra. Cali slid from the counter and toed off her shoes as she unfastened her pants. As she started to wriggle out of them, Seling stopped toying with her breasts and dropped to one knee. She was treated to a view of the tribal-style tattoo on his back. He only had the tattoo when he was human, though the flames of the tattoo represented the very real fire he commanded when he was in his other body.

  Cali braced one hand on his shoulder as he pulled her jeans and underwear down and off. When she was naked before him, Cali had a moment of doubt, of uncertainty. The moments were rare for her, and sharper because of it. She’d barely had time to sleep, and she probably needed to shave her legs and get a bikini wax, plus she’d been eating craft services for all three meals for a month and had put on a few pounds.

  Seling gripped her hips, pulling her pelvis towards his face. He kissed her bellybutton, then trailed kisses down to her pussy.

  “Get back on the counter.”

  Cali slid her ass onto the counter. Seling kissed his way up her thigh even as he spread her legs, hooking them over his shoulders. He touched her pussy with one finger, tracing the seam of her sex over and over until her body swelled to his touch. His finger slipped inside, stroking the inner lips of her sex, finally grazing her waiting clit.

  “Ohh yes, that’s it.” Cali’s toes curled in pleasure.

  He slid his middle finger into her, pumping it in and out as his lips and tongue went to work on her clit. Cali reached up behind her head, grabbing the shelves there as pleasure tingled through her. Her desire had come on her sharp and hard, and she could tell the orgasm would be just as sudden and intense.

  “Seling, yes, don’t stop.”

  He pulled her ass off the counter, forcing one leg to wrap over his shoulder. It left her balanced on the toes of the other foot, her arms behind her head, clinging to the shelves. The position gave her a moment of fear, but his arms were there, hard and strong around her. She felt soft and vulnerable, a match to his strength.

  His tongue worked her clit, keeping a steady rhythm with enough pressure to drive her on and up, towards the precipice.

  Cali came, every muscle in her body
tensing. When she couldn’t hold herself up anymore, Cali tumbled off the counter. Seling caught her, lowering her to the floor.

  With her body still humming with pleasure, Seling settled over her, pushing her legs open. He tugged her bra down, exposing her breasts. He lingered there only a moment before she pulled him up, wanting to feel his lips on hers. His chest brushed her breasts and his cock rode along her thigh. She wanted him in her, and even as his mouth ravaged hers, Cali tugged on his hips.

  She felt him smile against her. He pulled away a bit, teasing her, and Cali reached down and slapped his ass. He kissed her neck, chuckling a little.

  “Do you want me?” His gaze locked onto hers, his lashes seeming long this close up.

  “Yes.” Though she’d come once, she still wanted him, almost desperately.

  “Then show me.”

  Seling rolled onto his back and pulled her on top of him. Cali hid her frown. She’d had a relationship where the guy just laid back and closed his eyes, demanding that she always do the work. It had turned her off being on top. But the moment passed when Seling reached up and fondled her breasts with one hand, the other curving against her mound so his thumb could rub her clit.

  Reaching back, she braced her hands on his thighs and worked her hips first back and forth and then in small circles. The rhythm of his hands plucking her nipples and rubbing her clit slowed, seeming to stutter as she worked his cock inside her.

  Smiling at the effect she had on him, Cali leaned forward, pressing his hand more firmly against her breast.

  Their gazes met. The surroundings seemed to melt away, leaving only them, only this moment of pleasure.

  A second orgasm grew in her belly and Cali leaned forward, bracing her hands on his chest as it swept over her.

  “Not yet,” Seling growled, but it was too late. Cali panted with pleasure.

  Seling flipped them over, driving into her with a few hard strokes before he shuddered above her.

  They lay on the scratchy carpet, panting. Seling picked up her hand, lacing their fingers together. Cali turned her head, watching the way they fit together. As seconds became a minute, the flash-fire of passion morphed into something more intimate.

  She could feel Seling looking at her, but the unexpected—and unwelcome—intimacy froze her.

  There were three sharp raps on the door.

  “Mr. Seling? I’m here to take you home.”

  Cali bolted upright. The transportation crews must be here to move the trailers, and with them Seling’s driver.

  “Tell him you’ll meet him at the car,” she hissed at Seling, who was still lying calmly on his back.

  “I’ll meet you at the car,” he said loudly, eyes never leaving her.

  “I can’t believe it’s this late—early—you know what I mean.” Cali pulled her clothes across the floor and slipped into them as quietly as she could.

  “I don’t need the driver,” Seling said, handing her shirt to her. “You can take me home. With you.”

  “No, I can’t. I need you to look outside and see if the driver is really gone.”

  That made him frown. “All right.”

  When he reported back that there was no one outside, Cali patted her pockets—where she’d tucked her bra—and scooped up her headset and battery pack. She’d have to make sure it was replaced with a fresh one, since she hadn’t turned it in to grip and electric before they packed up.

  Seling took her hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  She pulled away, no longer comfortable with the melting feeling in her belly that accompanied his touch. “Of course, we’re shooting tomorrow.”

  With that, Cali let herself out of the trailer and walked away.

  Chapter Two

  Oren

  A monster crouched on top of warehouse. His green skin appeared black in the moonlight, while his crimson wings filtered that same light, casting blood-red shadows on the metal and glass roof he perched on. His gaze narrowed and lips pulling back to reveal teeth as long and sharp as kitchen knives.

  The monster folded his bat-like wings over himself one at a time, then took a few steps back, hiding in shadows cast by the pitch of the roof. From the shadows, his eyes glittered like light reflected off obsidian. Those eyes were watching, tracking something on the ground below him.

  His head tilted to the side and his wings raised off his body slightly, as if he were going to unwrap himself.

  The moment passed, and with a snort the monster retreated to the shadows holding so still that everything but those glittering eyes disappeared.

  Then his lips pulled back again, but this time it was in a sinister, horrifying smile. Still smiling, his great wings unfurled and he took to the air, rising into the night like a demon rising out of hell.

  Oren tapped a few keys, eyes on the monitor on the upper level of the bi-level desk. He rolled the scene back and played it again. In post-production, when there were assistant editors and animators and all the other people who made up the editing team, they could enhance things—the whiteness of fangs in the shadows, the red-tinted light under the wings. For now, the scene was good enough for the dailies, especially since it was just him, working far more than any other editor would have agreed to.

  He rocked back in his chair, glad to be in the production offices rather than the production trailer on set. The ergonomic office chair was better on his back than the plastic affair he had in the trailer. Getting old sucked, and at forty-two he was old enough that his back was starting to hurt, especially on the days after a long run or cycle.

  “Do you have it?” Cali walked in and plopped down on one of the two couches up against the wall in his office. His office was really a small conference room, with his editing bay against one wall and lots of space behind him for people to sit or stand and watch the film that was shot that day—the dailies.

  Due to their tight timetable, and the fact that everything they were doing was new, he was running the dailies twice. The first time was at the end of each day’s filming, which was usually early in the morning after a night of shooting, and then again in the office around one o’clock, when he’d string together the best takes from all cameras and angles to make a complete scene.

  They discovered plenty of problems this way. Certain light settings caused the monsters’ skin to be two completely different shades in different cameras. They’d found that the canvas-like snapping of wing membrane was loud enough to throw off the sound, and finally they’d come to the realization that the monsters looked too real on film. Audiences were used to CGI or motion capture. The monsters were so real that they’d decided to add filters in post-production—which Oren was still playing with.

  The filters would give the humans a slightly otherworldly appearance too, but audiences would automatically mentally correct for that.

  “I’ll pull it up.” Oren worked the keys on his computer. The normal keyboard for his Mac was on the desk next to him. In its place was the specialized AVID software overlay keyboard, which made his computer look like a control panel from the original Star Trek. Cut together, Scene 19 showed the reunion between Padma and Ebon, Akta and Henry’s characters, with Seling’s character spying on them from the top of a warehouse.

  “Are you tired?” Cali’s voice was accusing, as if the fact that he didn’t immediately give her what she wanted was a sign of weakness rather than computer processing time. Oren stifled a sigh. He forgotten how demanding a job this was and how irritating directors could be.

  “Nope. I’m fine with five hours sleep.”

  “Good.”

  Oren stifled another sigh. Cali was one of the most irritating directors he’d dealt with in the past ten years. Then again, she was the first real director he’d dealt with since his meteoric rise in the industry ended with a spectacular and public fall from grace.

  But she was good—brilliant, even. The best directors knew when to lead and when to stand back and let the crew flex their skills. Her brusque, almost rude, manne
risms could melt away into the sweet soft tones of a director coaxing an actor into the perfect space for the performance, and in the next instant bark out orders that got everyone moving and helped the producers keep the production on track.

  “How does it look?” He could hear the faint tap of her foot on the carpet.

  “You’ll see for yourself.”

  “Just tell me.”

  They played this game every day, and over the past month Oren had come to realize she was scared. He’d put it down to nerves, but as good scene after good scene were in the bag and she didn’t get any less nervous, he’d realized it wasn’t nerves, but fear. She was scared of failing and scared of what they were doing.

  He doubted she even realized how scared she was, but it was there, in the back of her eyes and the tapping of her foot.

  When they’d first approached him and showed him some home video of the monsters, he’d been sure he was being punked or set up in some other way. He’d been wary of the mysterious offer, more wary when his inquiries about the project to the few people in the industry who were still talking to him had yielded no information.

  It wasn’t until he’d met one of the guys, watched him change from a good-looking human man to a fucking frightening monster that he’d understood. Understood not only that they were very serious when they said they were making a movie to show the world that monsters were real, but that they probably had a very short list of editors they could go to. The big names wouldn’t risk their careers being associated with the project, and the good indie people didn’t have the experience editing summer blockbusters. And there was nothing worse than an action movie that felt like a Sundance film because of the editing.

  “Are the dailies in?” Jo, the production designer, bustled in.

  “Oren’s pulling them up. How are the sets coming?”

  “Good. According to Tokaki and Luke, they’re a good mix between the Clan’s caves in the Rockies, Tokaki’s place in China and stuff I made up.”

  “Are they still whining about not wanting it to look too real?”

  “Yes, and I see their point. If the wolf people who attacked Runako and Margo come after them again post-release, we don’t want to give them blueprints or a map to their location.”