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."

"What do you mean?"

My expression froze, a pang of guilt hitting me as I spoke, but the pain from my split lip made me wince.

To my shock, Jeremy's finger pressed right onto the sore spot.

Tears sprang to my eyes instantly.

"Your acting skills are really improving," he said, a touch of mockery in his voice, "Shouldn't you thank me for that?"

Just as I was about to respond, I noticed the cool, medicinal scent of the ointment he applied.

"Last time you bit me, I used this stuff to heal it. Otherwise, it would've affected our shoot. Does it hurt less now? I'm not as heartless as you think—I didn't just leave you after you bit me."

His tone carried an undercurrent of hurt, but it was clear he was just being petty.

It was frustrating, but I was too scared to hide anything further.

"I'm sorry about last time. I really didn't mean to—there was a role offered to me a few days ago, a supporting part with a few kissing scenes. I turned it down…"

I had hoped he wouldn't find out, but it seemed his network was more extensive than I thought. "Good. Don't forget, you signed a contract agreeing not to do any kissing scenes with anyone else while you're my stand-in."

It was hard to refuse him when the offer was too good to turn down—enough to cover my grandmother's medical bills.

I said, "Don't worry, I won't breach the contract."

Jeremy and I had shared kisses before. Despite his occasional vindictive streak, the job was still worth it. Besides, kissing scenes weren't an everyday occurrence.

His mood seemed to lighten. His smile softened.

This was his genuine happiness, not the radiant, lively smile he showed to everyone else. It was just a subtle, understated grin.

"Do you still want to continue?"

His sarcastic laugh snapped me back to reality. I thought, Damn, I have been staring into his eyes like a fool. "Of course not. You've got an interview later. I wouldn't want to hold you up…"

"Oh? You're so concerned about me?"

Jeremy gently stroked my lips, the ointment spreading evenly over the wound. I steadied myself and looked up at him seriously. "Aren't you concerned about me too?"

For the first time, I was facing him directly.

He seemed caught off guard by my bluntness. Jeremy paused, then replied, "Don't get any ideas. You're just a stand-in. I'm your boss."

He was clearly unhappy, his mouth tightening. I bit my split lip again, tasting a mix of blood and the medicinal scent of the ointment.

The pain made my eyes well up. Jeremy's expression shifted from surprise to something awkward, and he turned away, clearly irritated.

Suddenly, he was angry. He bit his own lip hard, stood up abruptly, and stormed off, his retreating back betraying a hint of disarray.

I sighed, feeling a mix of relief and confusion.

I barely had time to process my own feelings before people started arriving on set. I got up quickly.

Only a few people in the crew knew about the stand-in arrangement. Otherwise, the news would have been all over the internet by now.

"Amelia, since you're one of Jeremy's artists, do you know who the stand-in is? I've seen the kissing scenes he's done, and they're so intense. There's no way there aren't feelings involved."

Cameron Dent, the leading lady of the show and a rising star, was known for her kindness and lack of pretense.

She sauntered over, her face practically glowing with curiosity.

I busied myself with tidying up the bed. "How should I know about the boss's business? Aren't you supposed to be prepping for your scene soon? Better get a move on with your makeup or the director will be all over you."

I tried to avoid Cameron's probing gaze.

She was the type who could strike up a conversation with anyone, even the cleaning staff. I had a swollen lip that I really didn't want her asking about—if she noticed, I'd never hear the end of it.

"The director is doing an interview right now, we'll start shooting later..." Cameron said, eyeing me curiously. "Amelia, why are you avoiding me? You were definitely there for the scene just now, you could tell me what happened. I promise I won't tell anyone..."

My role was a small one, a servant girl with ulterior motives who followed Jeremy, the male lead, around until the end of the shoot.

"I didn't see anything after my scene," I mumbled, turning away from Cameron.

But she wasn't giving up, clearly wanting to pry more information out of me.

"Cameron, the interview is starting soon, what are you doing here?" Jeremy interrupted, appearing at the edge of the set with a warm but insincere smile on his face.

He always presented a genial facade to outsiders, but with me, he was his true self - even more so than when we were children.

Only now, he was better at hiding it.

Cameron stuck out her tongue at me and said, "Jeremy, I'm coming."

I breathed a sigh of relief and was just about to check my swollen lip on my phone when Jeremy continued, "You're coming too."

Due to the large-scale production, many of the cast members were split into different groups, and we didn't see each other often. However, this interview was for promotional purposes, so everyone was gathered.

I thought I could avoid it as a small character, but Jeremy specifically asked for me to attend.

Cameron waved to me from the doorway while Jeremy stood on the steps, eyebrows raised in a challenging manner. He looked so arrogant; it was a shame no one was recording it—Jeremy's public image would definitely suffer.

But I was too timid to stand up to him, so I just imagined his downfall and got up obediently.

"Boss..." I muttered, looking down like a timid little wife.

Jeremy grunted in satisfaction with my attitude.

Cameron suddenly exclaimed, "Amelia, what happened to your mouth?"

"Oh, I just fell and scraped it..." I said quickly.

Cameron's eyes lit up, and she reached out to touch it. "No, that doesn't look like a scrape. I've had scrapes before, and they don't look like this...and your lipstick is all smeared..."

"I just bumped it, that's all," I said, dodging Cameron's curious hands. She looked disappointed but quickly shifted her attention to Jeremy's face.

"Jeremy, when did you change your lipstick?" she asked, realizing something.

Jeremy was about to step down when he stumbled on his robe. I quickly reached out to steady him.

"Be careful," I said.

Jeremy ignored me and said to Cameron, "Don't ask about things you shouldn't."

Cameron, though intimidated by Jeremy, took this as tacit confirmation. She looked satisfied, even a little excited. "Don't worry, Jeremy, my lips are sealed."

The interview had already started, but Jeremy refused to let go of my hand.

"Mr. Collins, there are so many reporters, it would be bad if we were photographed," I tried to persuade him.

"So what if we are?" Jeremy said expressionlessly, but his hand was not idle. I was wearing a loose-fitting costume with only a short-sleeved shirt underneath.

Originally, I was holding his wrist, but he reversed our positions and tightly gripped my hand.

Although we had filmed kiss scenes before, this sneaky, secretive touch made my heart itch.

By the time I regained my senses, Jeremy had already brought my hand close to his lips.