AN: New week, time to climb the rank again.
Bonus chapter> 250 Powerstones
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[That morning] [Alex's penthouse, 8:40]
Steam curled from the open bathroom door. Alex stepped out in nothing but a towel, water still running in rivulets down his chest. His hair was damp, slightly mussed, his shoulders loose from the long shower. He yawned as he stretched, rotating his neck until it popped.
From the balcony came the soft rhythm of controlled breaths. Angelina was on the yoga mat, balanced in Warrior Pose. She wore a fitted yoga set, dark gray with thin straps, hugging every line of her toned figure.
Her eyes flicked toward him just in time to catch the sight of Alex walking barefoot across the floor, towel low on his hips.
She gave a sharp whistle.
'God help me, he looks carved out of temptation. Does he even know what he does when he walks out like that?' she thought, biting back a grin. 'And that towel is a liability. A single step, a single tug, and… focus, Angie. Focus.'
He caught the sound and smirked. "Really? A whistle? That's all I get in the morning?"
She shifted into another pose, stretching her arms overhead, deliberately slow. "Consider yourself lucky. I was this close to catcalling you like you're some hot construction worker."
Alex smirked, walking toward her with the easy confidence of a man who knew exactly the effect he had. He leaned down and kissed her. "You," he said in a low voice, "look ridiculously hot in that outfit. Sexy doesn't even cover it."
Angelina's lips curved. "I know. But thanks for noticing."
He chuckled, ruffling his damp hair with one hand as he walked toward the kitchen. "Noticing is impossible not to do."
She held her pose, watching him over her shoulder as he poured coffee. Her gaze lingered a second too long on the lines of his back, the play of muscle under skin. 'Stop staring, Angie. You're supposed to be doing yoga and meditating, not imagining how that towel would look on the floor.'
He leaned on the counter, eyes fixed on her as she bent into a stretch that tested his self-control.
She glanced back at him with a knowing smirk. "You're staring."
"Who, me?" His tone was mock-innocent. "I'm just appreciating art in motion. Carry on. Don't mind me."
She shifted into a downward dog, then lifted one leg into the air. "Appreciate all you want. Just don't spill your coffee."
'If I wasn't already addicted to caffeine, watching her like this would do it. She makes every movement look sinful,' Alex thought.
For several minutes, the flirtation danced between them. Her poses shifted, slow and deliberate, showing the control of a trained body. His comments flowed between playful teasing and genuine admiration. She laughed when he nearly choked on his coffee after she leaned a little too far in one stretch.
Eventually, she straightened, rolling her shoulders back, and walked toward him barefoot. She stole his cup without asking, sipping from it with a mischievous smile. "Mmm. Perfect temperature. You do make the best coffee."
He arched a brow. "You steal my cup, you take the consequences."
She tilted her head. "Oh? And what would that be?"
Alex didn't answer her right away. Instead, his hand slid to her waist, pulling her closer until she let out a surprised laugh. In the next instant, he lifted her effortlessly onto the kitchen counter, the cool marble under her bare thighs making her shiver.
Angelina set the coffee cup down with exaggerated care, her eyes never leaving his. Then she wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing him in until their mouths crashed together. The kiss was deep, hungry, the kind that made time irrelevant.
When they finally broke apart, her breath was uneven, her lips curved in a teasing smile. "Mmm. If this is the punishment for stealing your coffee, I might make a habit of it."
Alex leaned in, brushing his mouth along the curve of her jaw before murmuring against her skin, "Careful. You won't survive if you keep poking the bear."
She tilted her head back slightly, grinning. "So tell me, Mr. Wilson—since we actually have a day off from shooting, what exactly are we doing today?"
He kissed her again, slower this time, his tongue sliding against hers before pulling back just enough to whisper against her lips. "Long drive. Lunch in the car. Sex in the parking lot. Then we come back here, take a long, dirty shower together. Rest for a few hours. Then nude dinner. And then…" His teeth grazed her bottom lip. "More sex. Again. And again. Until you can't remember what the word 'break' means."
'Sex in the parking lot, huh? Humm... That'd be so fucking hot!' Angelina's eyes lit up with amusement and heat all at once. "That's your idea of a schedule?"
He smirked, his hands sliding up her thighs. "That's my idea of a perfect day."
She gave a little chuckle, tugging him closer by the back of his damp hair. "I hope you can keep up with my appetite because today, I won't be holding back anymore."
His grin widened, wolfish. "Sweetheart, the only thing you'll be keeping up with… is your own moans."
Her laugh turned into a low, sultry sound as she kissed him again, this time deeper, fiercer, like she was already accepting the challenge.
Alex's phone buzzed across the kitchen counter. He groaned against Angelina's lips, gave her a lingering peck, then leaned back just enough to glance at the screen.
Scarlett Johansson's name lit up the display. Video call.
Angelina smirked, still perched on the counter with her legs brushing his hips. "Your other girlfriend's calling."
"Correction," Alex said as he grabbed the phone. "One of my girlfriends." He kissed the corner of her mouth quickly before swiping to accept. "Morning, Scar."
The screen flickered, and there she was. Scarlett lounged on a cushioned swing beneath a shaded rooftop patio, the soft breeze lifting strands of her hair. She wore a loose white tank top and tiny denim shorts, her legs stretched lazily across the swing. The city skyline stretched out behind her, but her smirk was front and center. [Note: Some apps support simultaneous view from both front and back, making the call more fun.]
"Morning?" Scarlett teased, voice dripping with playful demand. "Please. The first thing I want is a full frontal view. Stand back, big man. Let me appreciate the goods properly."
Alex raised a brow, towel still low on his hips. "Straight to the point, huh? No hello? No 'how are you'?"
Scarlett propped her head on her hand, eyes gleaming. "I don't waste time with formalities when you look like you're fresh out of the shower. Come on. Let me see all of it."
Angelina chuckled behind him, crossing her arms. "Wow. No shame at all. I like her style."
'Looks like she's been spending too much time with Max,' Alex shook his head, but stepped back far enough for Scarlett's camera to catch the whole picture. He stretched a little too deliberately, towel tugging dangerously low on his hips. Scarlett whistled.
"God, you're hot," she said, biting her lip. "Look at you. It should be illegal to look like that before nine in the morning."
Angelina chimed in. "See? I said the same thing. He acts like it's casual. Walks around like a walking billboard for sin."
Scarlett narrowed her eyes playfully at Angelina's voice. "Oh, hey, Angie."
Angelina walked behind Alex, leaned into his back, and wrapped her arms around his torso. Her chin rested on his shoulder as she peeked at the screen.
"Hi, Scar," Angelina said sweetly.
Scarlett smirked when Angelina leaned into the frame. "Well, well. Look at you two. Playing house already? Cute."
Angelina's lips curved into a slow smile, her chin still on Alex's shoulder. "Don't be jealous, Scar. There's enough of him to go around. Though, I admit, mornings like these… I do get greedy."
Scarlett raised a brow, feigning innocence. "Greedy? Please. I practically invented greedy when it comes to this man." She shifted on the swing, stretching her long legs out so her shorts rode higher. "So tell me, Wilson… how's the shooting? Word on the street is you and Angie are burning up the set."
Alex replied. "Shooting's perfect. We just wrapped the mall scene yesterday. One of the best sequences we've pulled off so far. Angie here was flipping over tables and snapping necks like a damn assassin goddess. It was perfect."
Angelina's eyes twinkled as she pinched his side lightly. "Flattery works on me, but you forgot to mention how good you were. He looked like he'd been training for this role his entire life. Every single take was clean."
Scarlett smirked, though her voice softened with curiosity. "So the chemistry's real, huh? You two bouncing off each other like that?"
Angelina didn't miss the edge in Scarlett's tone. She smiled sweetly, pressing a kiss to Alex's shoulder as if marking her territory. "Let's just say it's effortless. We don't even try. It just… clicks."
Scarlett's laugh was short but pointed. "Uh-huh. Sounds dangerous."
Alex shifted the conversation. "Alright, enough about me and Angie. How was your shoot yesterday? I heard it wrapped late."
Scarlett leaned back on the swing and stretched her arms above her head. The motion pulled her tank top just enough to reveal a smooth line of stomach. "Exhausting. Twelve hours of pretending to be effortless while wearing five-inch heels and leather in the middle of summer. We did all the shoots and even shot a little clip for TV. But it was so exhausting that I wanted to strangle her with her own camera strap."
Alex chuckled. "Sounds like you nailed it though. You always do."
Her smirk softened into a genuine smile. "I did, actually. The shots looked incredible. We went for a mix of sharp black-and-white portraits and bold color spreads. Very femme fatale and unapologetic. I think you are going to love them."
Angelina took another sip from Alex's abandoned coffee.
Alex grinned. "So basically a normal Tuesday for you."
Scarlett pointed at him through the camera. "Exactly. Normal Tuesday. Though I have to admit, when I got home, I was so sore I couldn't move. Every muscle in my body was screaming. My reward was ordering an entire pizza and eating it in bed while watching reruns."
Angelina's lips curved. "See, now that's relatable. You're supposed to be a goddess and instead you're demolishing carbs like the rest of us."
"Don't knock it," Scarlett replied. "That pizza saved my soul."
The trio chatted for a few more minutes before Scarlett left. Then, Alex and Angelina left on their sex filled long drive.
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[Meanwhile, New York – 2:30 PM]
[Max & Caroline's Cupcake Shop – Break Time]
The bell over the shop door finally stopped jingling. The last fan with neon lipstick and a phone glued to her hand scurried out. Max quickly flipped the sign to Closed for Break. Then Max and Caroline slumped over the counter like two deflated balloons. The five waitresses behind them were in equally tragic states, one of them massaging her jaw like she'd just chewed through cement.
Caroline groaned, peeling her apron off with theatrical flair. "Five and a half hours, Max. Nonstop selfies. Do you know how many smiles that is?"
Max rubbed her own cheeks with both hands. "I know exactly how many. One thousand four hundred and thirty-two... give or take a few sneak shots. And I'm not talking about smiles. I'm talking about hooker faces. My jaw has been stuck in fake-smile mode so long I feel like I should be getting paid by the hour."
Caroline flopped into a chair. "Oh please. At least your fans are normal. Mine all look like they escaped from a sex dungeon. Do you know how many people called me Mistress today? Mistress. In broad daylight."
Max's lips twitched. "Well… technically it is a bakery. And you do like to whip the cream."
Caroline narrowed her eyes. "Not funny."
Max smirked. "A little funny. Besides, your fans aren't bondage lovers. They're… commitment enthusiasts. Just very… leather-forward ones."
Caroline buried her face in her hands. "God. Why can't I get normal fans? Like cat lovers. Or plant moms. Why do I have to attract people who walk in with collars and ask me if I 'approve of their lifestyle'?"
Max grabbed a leftover cupcake from the tray, flicked some frosting off with her finger, and popped it into her mouth. "Because, Blondie, your whole vibe screams uptown dominatrix. It's the cheekbones. And the fact that you wear heels even when you're scooping batter. You're basically Mistress T with lip gloss."
Caroline groaned again, louder. "If one more person calls me Mistress Channing, I swear I'm going to—"
The youngest waitress chimed in weakly from the corner. "Uh… Caroline? Your phone just buzzed. From someone saved as 'Mr. Wilson'."
Max's head shot up like a meerkat. "Ohhh. Daddy texted."
Caroline pointed a finger. "Don't. Start."
Max grinned, licking frosting off her finger. "Mistress Channing, Daddy Wilson… this shop is turning into a very weird family business."
Caroline rolled her eyes so hard they nearly left her head. "I hate you."
Max leaned back, smug. "No you don't. You love me. Which is why you're letting me fake a migraine so you cover the next wave of selfie zombies."
Caroline's eyes widened. "Max!"
Max smirked. "Relax. I'll bring you back a whip from the next fan who calls you Mistress. You'll thank me."
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[POWERSTONES AND REVIEWS PLS]
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[7 advance chs] [All chs available for all tiers] [No double billing.]
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