and her eyes bright, Nate’s face had a grey pallor and the whites of his eyes were almost yellow, with an eggy sort of sheen. Maybe this was part of the image. But the fact remained he didn’t look well.
‘Are you poorly?’ she asked, stepping in. She pressed a palm to his forehead.
He flapped her away. ‘I’m fine,’ he said, swaggering into the living room. Chris was on the couch, his arm draped round a stoned blonde with blue-saucer eyes.
‘Hey, Chris,’ said Chloe. The girl didn’t register. Chris looked at her quickly then glanced away.
‘What were you up to last night?’ she asked Nate as she followed him into his bedroom. It was a total mess in there, strewn with half-full mugs of tea and plates littered with pizza crusts.
‘Not a lot,’ said Nate, closing the door.
Chloe nodded and sat down on his unmade sheets. The linen released a musty, not altogether unpleasant scent. ‘How’s the band?’ she asked.
‘Pretty good,’ he said, fiddling with the stereo. ‘The new stuff’s killer.’ His voice became animated as he told her how they’d just shot a video for the first single, something about a deserted warehouse and strung-up trawler nets.
She mustered enthusiasm. ‘That sounds great,’ she said, waiting for him to ask her about the shoot with Lana. He didn’t.
‘Love this tune,’ he muttered, settling on a track. He sat down next to her. She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling overdressed and awkward.
‘Is everything OK?’ she asked quietly. ‘You don’t seem yourself.’
Nate snorted. ‘Probably because you haven’t seen me in a while.’
‘What are you talking about?’ Chloe was concerned. ‘We saw each other at the weekend.’
Nate shrugged. ‘It doesn’t bother me,’ he said, lying back and fiddling with the belt on his trousers. ‘Just that now you’re all Hollywood, it looks like your celebrity friends are getting more of you than I am.’
‘Is that how you feel?’ Chloe asked softly. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t think—’
‘Like I said, whatever.’ Nate took her hand. ‘I’m sure you can make it up to me.’ With his other hand he unbuckled his jeans and a rock-hard cock sprang free. He guided her fingers.
‘Nate, shouldn’t we talk about this?’
‘There’s better things to do than talk.’ His voice was gravelly now as he pulled her head towards his crotch. ‘Things that mean more.’ Closing his eyes, he ran his hands through her luscious hair–she’d take to it, had never been able to resist.
Sure enough, moments later he felt her lapping at his dick like a kitten.
This is where she belongs, he thought, propping himself up to watch the show. Chloe went at it tentatively at first, then with greater enthusiasm, clasping him between her palms, cupping and kissing his balls. He pushed himself further till he heard that beautiful mewl of resistance, felt her little soft tongue press down hard on his tip.
Withdrawing, he flipped her back on to the bed. He pounced on her, kissing and biting like a wild animal. With his teeth he freed her breasts, sucking at them hungrily, tucking his arm round her waist to bring her up closer.
‘I want you, Nate,’ she whispered. He buried his face in her neck, pulling on her earlobe. Man, she was beautiful.
He fumbled with the playsuit, trying to work out how to undo it. Eventually he gave up and hooked his fingers in, pulling the crotch of it to one side.
Chloe felt his cock pressing for entry. ‘Aren’t you forgetting something?’ she asked through the haze. She raised a knee against his chest and levered him off.
Nate appeared confused. ‘I’m all out.’ He grinned. Realising how that sounded, he hastily added, ‘Chris nicked ‘em all.’ He leaned in to resume kissing her.
‘Come on, Nate,’ said Chloe, firmly this time. ‘I don’t want to get pregnant.’
Nate hauled himself off, rolling his eyes. Grudgingly he wrapped a dirty-looking towel round his waist and disappeared from the room.
Chloe sat up. She tucked her knees up under her chin and waited for him to come back. Moments passed. What was taking so long? She lay back and stared at the ceiling, a great fan with huge blades whirring above her. Bored, she rolled over and slid open his bedside drawer. There was a photo of the two of them at some launch in London last year, their arms round each other, smiles wide. She grinned at the memory.
Lifting it, she ran her fingers round its edges. They were made for each other, she knew that much. Nate had just been tired earlier, there was nothing to worry about.
As she went to replace it, her eyes fell on something else. Beneath the picture was a box of condoms. ‘Aha!’ she said happily, thumbing open the top and about to call out to Nate. But nothing prepared her for what it contained.
Chloe frowned. The box was stuffed with little squares of different-coloured foils, all of them ripped open at the top. Tens upon tens of condom wrappers with nothing inside. She emptied them out in the drawer, confused at first and then, as understanding came, totally numb. She felt her heart stop. Tears sprang to her eyes. The world shrank so it was tight around her. She pulled the sheet up to cover herself.
Faintly she heard Nate having a brief conversation with someone outside. She thought she heard the words, ‘Not this time, mate,’ before Nate opened the door and triumphantly held up the goods. She found she couldn’t say anything.
The sex was painful. Chloe was detached throughout, gazing blindly up at the ceiling, silent. Nate didn’t seem to notice as he rocked on top of her, mumbling things in her ear that she couldn’t hear. He tore at her body, attacking her, driving into her with unstoppable force.
Eventually he climaxed. Chloe lay still, eyes wide open. Nate rolled off and muttered, ‘Fucking amazing, babe,’ then fell asleep almost instantly. She heard him start to snore.
Chloe lay awake for what felt like hours. She was unable to get up and leave, not knowing if her legs would carry her.
She turned into the pillow and cried silent tears.
Lana punched in Cole’s number one more time, was transferred to the usual answering-machine and hurled her cell at the wall. What the fuck was her husband playing at?
Struggling to regain her composure, Lana made her way down the main stairs and out on to the terrace, where she promptly dialled Rita. Her agent picked up immediately.
‘Rita, Cole’s got me locked up, I’m going crazy. You’ve got to do something.’ She had been trapped in the mansion all day, waiting for his return like one of his pet dogs. Cole’s security had been instructed not to release her from the grounds until he was back–apparently he wanted to talk to her.
Did he know about Parker?
The
