After He Confessed His Love, I Had Nowhere to Escape

Rumor had it that the acclaimed actor had a cleanliness obsession and always used a stand-in for kissing scenes.

That was absolute nonsense. He insisted on doing each kiss himself and wouldn't settle for less than ten takes if needed.

As he caressed my flushed lips, he whispered, "You can only kiss me."

The set was cleared out for the kissing scene.

It was Jeremy Collins' trademark: every time they filmed a kiss, he insisted on an empty set. Officially, he claimed it was out of respect for his co-stars, and the industry applauded him for it.

But there was a persistent rumor that Jeremy used a stand-in for kissing scenes.

The evidence? The shots always came in close-ups, never a full view.

Plus, his kisses were so intense they were practically a textbook example.

Honestly, which Best Actor could be that uninhibited?

Well, Jeremy could.

How did I know? Because I was Jeremy's exclusive kissing stand-in.

This time, Jeremy was starring in a grand historical drama with an A-list actress. So, the props were top-notch. Like the large bed I was currently sitting on.

The deep red canopy rustled with the breeze from a fan, and I'd traced the ornate patterns on the quilt with my fingers several times. To set the mood, candles were scattered around the set. Their flickering light danced on my face, mirroring my current anxiety.

Even though this wasn't my first time, I was always more nervous than the first.

"What are you thinking about?"

A low laugh tickled my ear as Jeremy, dressed in costume with his hair neatly tied back, appeared like a dashing hero from a novel. But I knew the smile masked something far more mischievous.

"Well, I was just thinking about how we're going to shoot this scene…" I stammered, trying to find an excuse.

Jeremy chuckled softly, "Don't worry, I'll guide you through it."

The director suddenly called, "Action!" Jeremy's demeanor shifted as he moved in closer, his expression growing serious.

Wait, I'm not ready.

Before I could react, Jeremy's lips were on mine. Just as he'd said, he gave me no chance to take charge—I had to respond passively.

He thrived on my clumsy reactions, and after a few rounds, I was gasping for breath. I felt his lips curve into a smile before he slowed the pace, giving me a moment to recover.

But it didn't last. A second later, he was back at it.

I frowned in frustration. This Jeremy was a bundle of mischief; he was far from the harmless persona his fans believed.

Online, people said that Jeremy's stand-in rumors were outrageous, and his fans fiercely defended him, claiming: [Jeremy is too innocent to be hurt by anyone!]

Yeah, right. Jeremy was all about hurting others, not the other way around.

He held grudges, like the time I accidentally bit his lip from lack of oxygen—this time, he was targeting my lips.

Before long, they were swollen.

But Jeremy wasn't satisfied. "Director, I think the emotion was off. Let's do another take."

The director, peering at the monitor, shook his head in admiration. "That's why you're the Best Actor. This performance—wow, just fantastic…"

Well, it was hard to argue. It was not about technique but all about feeling. Jeremy's feeling was to devour mine.

After ten takes, Jeremy finally got the shot he wanted. In the last one, he pinned me down on the quilt, his long fingers gripping mine.

Jeremy loved improvisation.

"Cut! Perfect!" The director clapped his hands.

But Jeremy didn't let go. He bit me hard.

"Ouch… Are you a dog or something?"

I was frustrated. I rarely cursed at him because he held grudges. But this bite was too much; it felt like my lips were split open. I knew he wouldn't pass up an opportunity to get even.

"You don't know what kind of person I am?" Jeremy said, leaning over me, his hair brushing my face lightly. It tickled, but I couldn't scratch because he still had a firm hold on my hands.

"Let go of me, it's over."

I was truly at my wit's end, resorting to pleading in the hopes that he'd relent.

Jeremy flashed a dazzling smile. To his fans, it was a symbol of innocence and healing. But I knew better—this smile was just the beginning of his displeasure.

He released one of my hands but didn't let go completely.

His cool, long fingers traced my lips. "Don't think I'm oblivious to your little tricks. I told you, you can only kiss me."