Star Attraction Read online

  He liked Sam, if only because he felt normal with him. Despite what everybody believed or thought they knew about him, Elijah always felt distinctly uncomfortable around people. Even people he knew well. But something about Sam put him at ease. Maybe because Sam understood what it was like to be in Elijah’s position—poised for real stardom, surrounded by people demanding everything from his time to his blood, living a secret life.

  They just missed each other in makeup, but Elijah found Sam standing near the coffee. He watched Sam pour a cup and carefully add sugar and cream before approaching.

  “Is that stuff any good today?”

  “Just this side of tolerable.” Sam smiled as he set aside his coffee and reached for an empty cup. “But that might be a side effect of how early it is. I think Gordon schedules us for now so we don’t realize how awful it really is.” He filled the cup and automatically reached for the sugar to add as well. “On the plus side, it should be quiet. It’s just us today, isn’t it?”

  “Thanks.” Elijah accepted the cup and took a tentative sip—it was just right. “Yeah, it’s just us. I suspect Gordon scheduled it this way to get a break from Eva.”

  “Between her and Alma, I’m surprised Gordon hasn’t blown a gasket sooner. Though Alma has her own ways of defusing him, I guess.”

  Elijah grinned. “Indeed she does. And, from what I hear, she’s quite good at it. Makes me wish we could all have our own assistant.”

  “Nicky would kill me if I had one of my own. Unless it was someone like Connie, which…no. Just no.”

  “Like Connie would ever lower herself to be somebody’s personal assistant. She’d be scandalized by the very suggestion, I’m sure.”

  Sipping his coffee, Sam sat on the edge of the table, his long legs stretched in front of him. He’d left the glasses behind today, and his pale blue eyes were soft and contemplative. “But you know, if you had your own assistant, you wouldn’t need me to help you run lines.” He paused, his broad fingers absently stroking the side of his coffee cup. “I’m not sure I like that idea.”

  Elijah wanted to point out that if Sam were his assistant, they’d never have time to run lines anyway. “Speaking of, I wish we had time to do a run-through of the scene before shooting starts. I have to do more talking today than any other time in my career.”

  “You worry too much. Just focus on the moment, and you’ll be fine.”

  Elijah worried more about this shoot than any of his other pictures, but that was because of Sam. Sam was good. Not kind of good. Not pretty good. But good good. The sort of good that could raise the quality of performance in his co-stars, if his co-stars were up to the challenge.

  “I’m sure you’re right.” Elijah sipped from his cup. “Well, I hope you’re right.”

  “I’m right.” He offered a shy smile before his lashes ducked. “I wouldn’t steer you wrong, Eli.”

  Elijah tilted his head. “Did you just call me Eli?”

  In the murky soundstage, it was hard to be certain, but it looked like there was a distinct flush creeping up the back of Sam’s neck. “Yeah. Sorry. I have a habit of shortening names if I can.”

  “No, don’t apologize. I like it. Elijah can be quite a mouthful. Especially if your mind is on other things.”

  His color deepened, though Sam stopped hiding away in embarrassment and looked up again. It really was no wonder the teenybopper mags splashed his picture everywhere. With his flawless bone structure and the cleft in his chin, he had a face that begged to be admired. But it was the casual disarray of his sun-streaked hair and the laughing pale eyes that made him human. More than human.

  “And here I thought we were consummate professionals,” he joked. “You wouldn’t be suggesting my mind would be anywhere but our work, would you?”

  “Oh, never.” He licked a drop of coffee from the corner of his mouth, and reached for a pastry. “In fact, my mind is always on our…work. I’ve been looking forward to today’s shoot all week.”

  There was no missing the way Sam tracked his hand, following it to Elijah’s mouth as he bit into the cruller. “Today’s where we earn our paychecks. If we nail the fight scene, the rest will be a cake walk.”

  “But the fight scene is the last thing on the schedule. Nothing like doing one of the most emotionally draining moments in the script at the end of the day.” His tongue darted out to catch a crumb on his lip. Sam followed the motion, and Elijah was tempted to do it again. “Fortunately, I’ll have you to get me through it.”

  His mouth twitched. “If you expect me to feed you your lines, you’re out of luck.”

  “Darn. I’ll just have to feed off your energy…and hope the chemistry is there.”

  “Gordon wouldn’t have cast you if he didn’t think we had chemistry.”

  “What do you think?”

  Sam blinked. “Do I think we have chemistry?”

  “Yes. I know we’ve only been in front of the camera together once, but I think the screen test was enough to get an idea.”

  “More than enough.” Sam looked away, watching the crew mount the lights above the bedroom set where all the scenes were being shot that day. A faraway look came to his eye, and Elijah wondered where exactly his thoughts were straying. “Honestly? I think this is going to be the best stuff in the whole movie. Nobody’s going to be able to take their eyes off you, Eli.”

  Elijah was going to do his best, and the script did play to his strengths, but he wasn’t going to try to upstage Sam—who did have top billing, along with Eva. “I’m only ever as good as my partner. And you’re a great one.”

  Sam smiled, though he didn’t turn back to Elijah so he wasn’t sure it was aimed at him in particular or one of those enigmatic smiles he was always catching on the man. “I’ve wanted this nearly all my life. And I thought when I got my first movie role that I’d made it. But I’m beginning to think that it’s going to be this picture that changes everything for me.”

  “I think it’s going to change everything for both of us.”

  “Five minutes to places!”

  Elijah offered a lopsided grin that was nothing like the indifferent sneer he usually wore in front of the camera. “I’ll buy you a drink for every line I miss.”

  “Make it two. I read how much you got paid for your last movie. You need more incentive not to screw up.”

  He set the empty cup down and offered his hand. “Deal.”

  Sam looked at his offering as if it was the last thing he’d expected, but after only a moment’s hesitation, stretched his out to envelop Elijah’s. The soundstage was air-conditioned because of the summer heat and all the lights, but Sam’s hand was anything but cool. His hot fingers curled around Elijah’s, the grip tight enough to send pleasant shivers up his arm. He didn’t let go right away, either, choosing instead to lift his pale eyes to Elijah’s and smile.

  “You agreed to that too quick. I should’ve asked for dinner, too.”

  “If I make it through without a single mistake, you can take me to dinner. Fair enough?”

  Sam snorted. “If you make it through without a mistake, I’ll make you the best damn dinner you’ve ever had.”

  Elijah tugged on Sam’s hand sharply, pulling him forward. Only an inch of two separated their mouths, and it would have been all too easy to wrap his arm around Sam’s back. “I’m going to hold you to that.”

  Sam glanced down, staring at Elijah’s mouth. The tip of his tongue appeared as it moistened his lower lip, and his fingers jerked, then tightened. “It’s a sucker’s bet.” His voice was unexpectedly hoarse. “You haven’t made it through a single scene with Eva yet without missing one.”

  “Maybe. But I already told you once, I’m only as good as my partner. You haven’t given me the chance to show what I can do with you.”

  “Is that you want?” His sweet breath fanned over Elijah’s skin. “One chance?”

  Elijah’s gaze darted from Sam’s eyes, to his lips, and back again. “One chance is all I need.”
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  “Hey! I said places!” Gordon’s voice slicing between them. “What are you two doing over there?”

  Sam jumped back as if burned, thrusting his hands into his pockets. He did that a lot. Elijah wondered if he realized it only made people stare at his crotch even more. “We’re coming!” he called to Gordon. To Elijah, he smiled, though it lacked the sincerity from earlier. “I’m holding you to your word, you know. I expect you to be brilliant today.”

  “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

  Elijah discarded what remained of his breakfast and forced himself to turn toward the set. He knew if he didn’t walk away then, Gordon would have to drag him away from Sam—or turn the hose on them. He knew it was going to be a long day, but he couldn’t wait to get started.

  * * * *

  It was a very good thing their characters were so competitive with each other. The tension Sam couldn’t shake ended up enhancing his performance. Most of it, at least. There were moments when Elijah would cast a certain glance in his direction, or brush against him as he passed, that Sam stumbled over a line.

  Elijah smirked when that happened. Because true to his word, he remembered each and every single one of his.

  In between takes were the hard times. During the scene breaks, Sam could hide in his trailer for his costume changes and makeup retouches. But when they were simply hanging out on the set, waiting for lights to be changed or film to be loaded or any one of a thousand things that instigated a delay, there was no escape. Not from the burn of Elijah’s steady gaze. Not from the memory of how close Sam had come to forgetting every shred of Hollywood protocol he’d ever learned. Not from the smell and the sight and the simple presence of a man who was slowly driving him crazy with desire.

  He almost thought it was worse that Elijah was gay. If he wasn’t, Sam could file away all the attention as unfulfillable fantasy, to be used for jerking off to later. It wasn’t like Elijah was the first heterosexual man he’d been attracted to. But the fact of the matter was, Elijah was very much into men, and their light flirtation was getting under Sam’s skin in the best way possible. Every word that came out of that luscious, kissable mouth sounded like a decadent promise, promises Sam wanted desperately for him to satisfy. He looked at him, and all he could think about was tearing off Elijah’s clothes and devouring him from the top of his head to his littlest toe.

  Even thinking about sucking the man’s toes left Sam hard and aching. Sucking on Elijah’s cock would have Sam shooting without ever touching his own prick.

  The day stretched long and tiring. Tempers ran thin. It got so bad, when Gordon came back from dinner break, he kicked Alma off the set for breaking the tip of her pencil during a take.

  Sam and Elijah exchanged a quick glance.

  They still had the fight scene to do. This didn’t bode well at all.

  “Let’s get this done in one take and go home,” Elijah murmured.

  Silently, Sam agreed. They took their marks on either side of the bed, each going into his head as they waited for their cue.

  He inhaled. Concentrated. Focus on the moment.

  Except he misgauged his path going around the bed and bumped into the footboard. Gordon cut the scene and ordered them back to the start, barking at him to figure out whether he was an actor or an acrobat.

  He caught Elijah’s sympathetic glance.

  Sorry, Sam mouthed.

  Elijah shrugged. It’s okay.

  On the second take, Sam made it around the foot of the bed. They both remembered their marks, and Sam felt himself getting into the rhythm of the scene. But Elijah stumbled over a word. For a brief second, Sam could have heard a pin drop on the set, and then Gordon shouted, “Cut! What the fuck is wrong with you, Elijah? Don’t you want to go home tonight?”

  “Well, shit.”

  In spite of Gordon’s distemper, Sam grinned. The look on Elijah’s face made it clear that he thought he’d lost their bet.

  “Technically, you still remembered the line,” he said as they resumed their places to take it from the start. “But trip again and I’ll hold you to it.”

  Elijah’s eyes lit with a smile, though his face remained appropriately impassive. Sam thought the third time would be the charm, and he felt like he was willing Elijah to make it through to the end of the scene. Even when the script brought them toe to toe, and he could smell Elijah’s aftershave and makeup and sweat, he didn’t let himself get thrown off. By the time Gordon called cut, Sam felt like beaming.

  Until he looked at Gordon’s face.

  “No, that didn’t work.”

  “What do you mean that didn’t work?” Elijah demanded. “We nailed it.”

  “It’s not what I wanted. It didn’t work. Try it again.”

  “But that was perfect!” Sam argued. “How is it not what you wanted?”

  “I don’t know. You tell me.”

  He gaped at Gordon in disbelief. This wasn’t like the director. Usually, he was full of great tips, knew exactly what he wanted. Sam had never regretted working with the man. Until now.

  His mouth opened to argue some more, but a warm hand curled around his elbow. He stopped and looked back, meeting Elijah’s eyes.

  Elijah shook his head. Without protest, Sam allowed the other man to pull him back to their places.

  His mind worked furiously as they waited for Gordon to call action again. They’d done the scene by the book. Every bit of blocking that they’d worked out. Every reaction the script called for. Neither one of them had missed a line. What did Gordon want? What else was there to give?

  His hands clenched into fists. Something that they hadn’t done, obviously.

  The scene started.

  A fresh tension permeated the atmosphere. Each line was bitten out, each word almost cut off before the last sound left his mouth. Elijah’s first reaction to Sam’s new anger was hesitant, but within a beat, he came back with his own, lowering his voice to counter Sam’s louder one.

  The juxtaposition left his skin hot. His heart thudded, faster. Faster. He circled Elijah like a predator, taking the advantage in the scene when before he’d been sharing it.

  “You think you can give her what she needs? You’re nothing, Jack!” Sam deliberately looked away from Elijah when before he’d been intent. “You’re not even worth the dirt clogged in that worthless bike of yours.”

  Elijah didn’t miss a beat.

  “What about what she wants? See, that’s your problem. You’ve never bothered to ask Gloria, have you?”

  “I don’t have to ask.”

  “Because you know?” Elijah snorted. He’d never done that before. It made Sam’s hackles go up. “You think you know everything because you’re going to college? Because you’ve always been teacher’s pet? Stick with your books, Will.” Elijah made perfect use of his already famous sneer. Nobody could curl his lip like Elijah. Nobody could sound so dismissive. “The one place you haven’t failed.”

  He didn’t think. He just reacted.

  Fury ripped through Sam. Leaping forward, he shoved Elijah toward the wall. Elijah tried to twist to get out of the way, but Sam refused to let him go, gripping his shoulder and slamming him face-first into the bedroom closet door. He pressed to his back and leaned down to utter his line directly in Elijah’s ear.

  “Failures are the ones who never try.” His fingers dug into the hard muscle. “When was the last time you tried, Jack?”

  He thought Elijah would falter. He thought Gordon would tell them to stop. He thought he had already ruined the shot. But Elijah didn’t falter, and Gordon didn’t shout at them.

  “I’m trying right now. With Gloria. Admit it, that’s why you’re so angry. Because for the first time, I’m your competition. And you know you can’t win.”

  The husky tone of his voice was entirely new. Before, Elijah had taken the pompous route with the line, throwing machismo and attitude into every syllable. Now, he’d stuck to his low-key certainty from earlier, turning it on its ear to
make it almost seductive.

  Everything in Sam hardened. Unthinking, he pressed harder into Elijah, his burgeoning erection swelling against the curve of his ass.

  “I’ll win. There’s no way Gloria would ever choose you.” He hissed the final words. “She deserves better.”

  They were both taking quick breaths, and Sam didn’t want to leave the warmth of Elijah’s body. He wanted to grind harder. He wanted to bury his face in Elijah’s neck.

  “And cut,” Gordon said, before Sam had the chance to give in to either impulse. “Cut, guys. That was great. That was the shot.”

  “What happened to ‘I don’t improv’?” Elijah muttered.

  The irony of his own words shattered the spell of the scene, and Sam sagged slightly. He didn’t pull entirely away, though. That was still beyond his means.

  “I had to do something to get the shot, didn’t I?” he murmured.

  Elijah looked over his shoulder, and his lips were so close it made Sam’s mouth water. “No, it was good. It was brilliant.”

  “You’re only saying that because Gordon liked it and now we’re done for the night.”

  “No. I’m not just saying that.” The crew began to mill around them, and Elijah’s eyes darted over Sam’s shoulder. “Let’s go to your trailer.”

  His breath caught. The intent in the request was undeniable. So was the throb in his cock.

  A big hand clapped Sam on the back, startling him into pulling away. “Great,” Gordon gushed. “That was great. You two gave me exactly what I was looking for.”

  Sam glanced at Elijah. He hadn’t turned away from the wall, instead regarding Gordon with narrowed eyes.

  “That’s our job,” Sam said with a smile he didn’t feel. He just wanted to get out of there.

  “And speaking of jobs, I’ve got a few notes I want to give you for the church scene with Eva tomorrow.” Gordon gestured toward the soundstage exit. “Go ahead and call it a night, Elijah. You deserve it.”