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Captive Films: Season One
Author:Jillian Dodd

Captive Films: Season One

Jillian Dodd





Tuesday, September 23rd

Movie Premiere - Paris

RILEY





I adjust my tie in the mirror, mute my cell phone, and check my watch again. “Are you almost ready, Sh—” Shit, what the fuck is her name? Shell—something. Shell—y, Mi—chelle, Ra—chelle? No. I’m pretty sure it’s Shelly, but I decide to go with Shell, just to be safe. “—ell?”

“I just need a few more seconds! It’s not my fault you kept me in bed for so long, daddy,” her voice shrills.

Which is such a lie, it’s totally her fault.

She was impressed with our beautiful Parisian hotel suite and decided to show her appreciation by sucking my dick then riding me like a cowgirl.

At the time, I didn’t care if I was a little late but, now, as my arrival time looms, I’m getting irritated.

I’m Riley Johnson.

I've got it all.

Brand new jet. Exotic cars. Luxury penthouse. Black card. A different aspiring actress—or two—in my bed every night.

I run Captive Films.

Where we leave you begging for more.

Or, maybe that's just me.

My life is perfect.

No relationships. No distractions.

I’m all business.

Even with the girls I date.

And by date, I mean fuck.

Because that’s all it is to me.

I’ve never been much of a rule follower, except for the one I made for myself a long time ago.

No love. Just sex.

And never more than forty-eight hours with the same girl.

With the flight from L.A. to Paris, I’m nearing sixteen hours with Shelly.

I wait another ten minutes before giving up. “If you don’t come out now, I’m leaving without you.”

She pops open the bathroom door and smiles at me. “Looking this good takes time.”

And, I will admit, she looks damn good.

Her long, red silky dress, with the dangerously plunging neckline barely containing her double D’s, is hugging all her curves. Yes, I made a good choice.

We met a couple days ago at one of the clubs I like to frequent when I mentioned to my friend, movie star Knox Daniels, that’d I’d be in Paris for The Keatyn Chronicles Trilogy movie premiere this week.

She slid her ample ass next to me on the couch and told me she would go with me.

I laughed at her, honestly.

I was planning to be here stag because after the premiere I’m attending a fashion show. One of Keatyn’s little sisters, who at sixteen isn’t so little anymore, will be walking the catwalk. And then it’s to a party filled with some of my favorite kind of people.

Models.

“What do you think?” she asks, spinning in a circle that causes a boob to pop out of her dress.

“Didn’t you tape those things in?” I ask, horrified. “That can’t happen on the red carpet.”

Keatyn would kill me.

Shell-whatever looks down and goes, “Whoopsie!” She shoves the offending boob back in place while chomping on a piece of gum.

Okay, so maybe she wasn’t the best choice.

“Spit out the gum,” I say.

She slides up to me and cups the front of my pants with her hand. “Why? Is there something you’d rather I have in my mouth?”

“Maybe in the limo,” I tell her and drag her out to the waiting car.

Once we’re tucked into the backseat, she reminds me why I brought her.

With her very talented mouth.





We survive the red carpet walk and subsequent interviews without any nipple slips. After joining Keatyn and Aiden, her long time beau, we are seated in the ornate theater.

The Keatyn Chronicles movies are about Keatyn Douglas’ real life, when at seventeen, the daughter of famous actress Abby Johnston, was almost kidnapped by a stalker and was sent to an East Coast boarding school—under an assumed name—for her safety. Since the boarding school is where Keatyn and I became friends, I get to see some of my own life unfolding on the screen before me. I watch the day we met. It was Eastbrooke’s New Student Orientation. I was sitting next to Dallas McMahon, who is now Captive Films’ Chief Legal Counsel and a partial owner. We were already checking her out before she marched in our direction. With her long blonde hair, tan skin, and killer body, it’s safe to assume all the guys were doing the same. It shocked the hell out of us when she marched up the bleachers—wearing a dress and cowboy boots—and sat down between us.

I chuckle watching the three of us sneaking out of our dorms after curfew to smoke and talk.

Then I get lost in the rest of the movie.

Keatyn showing up at my dorm room in tears when my older brother, Dawson, dumped her for his ex-girlfriend.

The three of us shooting a naughty music video to get back at him.

And, then, the part I can’t bear to watch.

If only I could turn off my ears, then I wouldn’t have to relive how crazy I was about Ariela Ross.