“I was terrified. But being tied up by your boyfriend isn’t as bad as I thought it would be,” I said, winking at the camera knowing full well that Noah was watching somewhere. “Besides, Sinners Like Us is so much more than two lovers who enjoy rope play.”

"Since you brought up Noah," Sammy said. He wiggled his eyebrow.

"Oh, here it comes," I said, taking the mug left out for me.

"You know, I gotta ask, just for the poor saps at home and in this audience who have pictures of you taped up on their walls."

“Fine, fine. Ask.”

“You and Noah Sloan: is it the real deal, or is this just a stunt?”

“Sammy, this movie doesn’t need any more hype than it already has.”

“So it’s a yes.”

“It’s a hell yes. Sorry, ladies,” I replied. There was a mixture of sounds coming from the audience.

“So you guys came out as couple while filming, but you two dated once before, right? How did it happen again?”

On the screen was a photo of Noah and me as teenagers wearing matching denim outfits and blue shades.

“Ugh…” I groaned, putting my face in my hands and trying not to laugh while the audience cooed at us. Shaking my head, I went on. “We both were young, and it was our first time dating. We were going through our awkward years, as you can see, except we did it front of the whole world. But when you get to your twenties as a former child star, you’ve seen a lot. We both just reconnected, and there was no turning back.”

“There are rumors that things got very… heated on set. Was all of it just acting, or…?”

“I don’t know, Sammy. You’re just going to have watch the movie and let me know,” I responded coyly.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Amelia London. Her new movie, Sinners like Us, comes out this December."

I smiled, standing as our interview ended. The light flashed red by the camera, signaling the commercial break.

"Thank you so much for coming on last minute," Sammy said as he shook my hand.

"No, thank you! It was a lot of fun," I replied with a smile, moving toward Austin and a few of my bodyguards off stage.

There was no time to chat. They just ushered me out the back door. Austin handed me my sunglasses, and I sighed, placing them on my face as they opened the door. Keeping my head down, I was basically surrounded by screaming fans as I headed into the car.

"We love you!"

"Just one picture!"

"I'm your biggest fan!"

"Please follow me back on Twitter!"

Finally, when I was in and the door closed, I took a deep breath and leaned into my seat.

"So if you fly out tonight, you can be in—"

"Austin, I'm tired. I just want to go home tonight."

"What about—"

"I’ll call Noah and let him know." While I had come back to Los Angeles for two weeks, Noah was in New York. Now that shooting had wrapped up, we both had other work to do before we had to go on the full promotional tour for the movie. Austin spent most of his days flying back and forth between us—how he managed to juggle everything was beyond me. However, I couldn’t complain. Reaching for my phone, I dialed Noah’s number. However, it went straight to voicemail—and that was the second time today.

I didn’t want to be one of those girls … but would it kill him to at least text?

“He’s in the studio working on voiceover work. You know they turn their phones off so it doesn’t interfere with anything, right?” Austin asked.

“I know.”

“Then why do you look annoyed at your phone?”

“Smartass,” I muttered, and he chuckled.

Ignoring him, I glanced out the window. There was something odd about being here after returning from Chicago. I was born here, but now, something felt off, and no matter how much I had thought about it, I couldn’t put my finger on it.

Finally, when the car stopped after we entered the private garage of The Tower, my bodyguard opened the door.

"Nolan, thanks, but I'm okay." They weren't really needed anymore. The Tower was home to some of the most famous people in the world. It was easier to get into the White House than it was to get in here.

"Amelia, we don’t want a repeat of the last incident. Let them go up and check the place.” The incident he was referring to was one crazy fan who hid in a bathroom trashcan just to take photos of me—a fucking trashcan.

“It’s The Tower. I’ve lived here for years, and no one has gotten through,” I said as politely as possible, moving towards the elevator.

"Just text me when you’re in."

"Fine," I called out as the doors closed. And just when I thought he was less overprotective than Oliver.

"Thank you." I tipped the elevator attendant as I got off on my floor.

"Thank you, ma'am," he said as the doors closed.

Stepping into my flat, I grinned at the mixtures of pink: still my favorite color. Taking my shoes off right at the door, I froze, noticing a tub of vanilla icing sitting on my counter along with a silver spoon.

"I could tell you were craving some."

My head whipped around to him so fast it might have fallen off had it not been attached. He stood there, in jeans and a simple button-down shirt, just staring back at me.

"Noah!" I grinned, running to him. He caught me as I jumped on him and he kissed me just as hard as I kissed him. There was so much I wanted to say to him, but right now, I just wanted to be with him.

His hands ripped at my dress as he walked us to the bedroom. Without a second thought, he threw me onto the bed, peeling the rest of my dress off.

"You looked beautiful tonight," he muttered, kissing up my stomach.

"You were watching?"

"Always," he whispered, taking my lips once again.

As I pulled at his shirt, the buttons popped off all over the room. I ran my hands up his chest.

He took off my bra, cupping both of my breasts, and I shivered, not sure what to say to him. He didn't even give me a chance before he took a nipple into his mouth.

"Noah—" I gasped, wrapping my legs around him.

He kissed from the top of my breasts and down my stomach until he reached my panties, peeling them off as he made his way further south.

"Say it," he whispered, his eyes glazed over with lust.

A wicked grin spread across my face as a shiver went down my spine. “Tie. Me. Up. Noah.”

He said nothing, rising off the bed and moving to my side table as I propped myself up on the pillows. Actors technically weren’t supposed to take things from the set, and in the past, I had taken things like pants or dresses. However, Noah took one thing and one thing alone: the red rope.

Watching as he wrapped it around his hand, I felt my chest tighten with anticipation. I bit my lip and sat up on my knees when he looked back over at me. His eyes traveled the length of my body, mapping out exactly how he was going to tie me. Each time we did this, he tied me in a different way, and each time, I found myself wanting more. To go further, to push the boundaries of everything.

“Come,” he said, and I crawled off the bed, kneeling in front him. I stretched my hands out in front me. Gently, he lifted all my hair, tying it up into a messy bun on top of my head, and instead of taking my hands right away, he lifted my chin.

He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but stopped himself, kissing my forehead.

“Turn around.”

I did as he asked. He pulled my arms back around my back, tying the rope around my wrists twice. My heart race as he worked his way up my arms, weaving and—

“Ahh!” I gasped when he pulled tighter, my back arched fully.

With my arms tied, he circled me, his eyes never looking away from my body as he stopped and tied the rope around my breasts tightly, my nipples erect for him—only him.