Acting Lessons

by Adele Buck

  “This is gorgeous.”

  “Thanks. I bought it when I first got here, and they only delivered it yesterday.”

  She turned, taking in the uncluttered coffee table, the unobtrusive television, and the simple curtains framing the large windows. The corner of her mouth kicked up when her gaze swept the bookshelves. He remembered her shelving them, all unconsciously sexy in his shirt.

  “Bedroom?”

  Her large, dark eyes swept up to his face. “Bathroom first, I think.”

  “Need the facilities?”

  She shook her head. “No, it’s been a really long day and I need a shower.”

  “I think I can accommodate you.”

  Gratified with the heat and intensity that sharpened James’ gaze, Freddie dropped her bag on the couch and stripped off her coat.

  “Let me hang that up for you.” James’s voice was low and gravelly. He took the jacket from her and took it to the little closet in the entryway. Freddie stood where she was, rooted to the spot until he returned. When he did, he extended his hand and she clasped it.

  He walked backward toward the bathroom, drawing her along with him. Flicking on the light, he pulled her into his arms, brushing feather-light kisses across her eyebrows, then her eyelids, which had fluttered closed. She sighed and relaxed against him, her arms winding around his waist. More light kisses across her cheekbones, down the angles of her jaw, the stubborn point of her chin.

  She was almost laughing now, her mouth stretched in a languorous smile. He pressed his lips against hers, and her tight smile instantly went soft, returning his gentle, thorough kiss. Angling his head, he opened his mouth, and she moved with him as if they had choreographed this dance of lips and tongues. He shivered as she tugged his shirt free of his trousers.

  Freddie pulled back and looked up at him. “Ticklish?”

  “Maybe a little.” James’s eyes were heavy lidded and lit with amusement.

  Smiling, she slid her hands underneath the shirt, relishing his warm, smooth skin. Pulling him to her, she felt the play of the hard muscles of his back as he bent to kiss her again. The low hum of excitement and anticipation that had begun in his living room built in her as they kissed, and she could feel his corresponding arousal as they pressed against one another.

  He drew the hem of her blouse up until they had to separate again, her hands rising to allow him to strip the garment off of her. Free of the blouse, she went to work on the buttons of his shirt, freeing them as fast as her fingers could move and pushing it off of his shoulders.

  Their hands collided as each reached for the others’ trouser buttons and they started to laugh. Joy rushed through Freddie like a fresh breeze and she toed off her shoes and stripped off her own trousers and underwear, James following suit. He fished his wallet out of his pocket and pulled out a condom as she unhooked her bra and let it fall to the floor with the rest of their clothes.

  James opened the glass shower door and turned the water on. Freddie moved behind him, fitting her body against his, skin to skin, and running her hands over his belly, then down to lightly clasp his length. He inhaled when she squeezed gently, and she pressed a kiss to his spine, skimming light, teasing fingers over the silky hardness of him.

  Turning, he took her hands and pulled her into the shower, into the warm rush of water and steam that felt almost as good as he did. He dropped the condom packet onto a small ledge and pulled her to him again, his kisses and the warmth of his body practically drugging her as the water slid over them.

  Kissing his way over to her ear, he murmured, “Do you want to get clean first and dirty later?”

  “Dirty now. Clean later.”

  “Excellent choice.” He grabbed the condom packet and ripped it open, rolling it on, then turning her so her back was to the marble wall of the shower. Grasping her waist, he lifted her with apparent ease, letting her sink down onto him slowly as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

  Freddie gasped as he stepped forward, pressing her back against the cool marble. The various sensations were delicious and overwhelming. The coolness against her back, the warmth of the water, the feel of his warm hardness entering her, stretching her, filling her as she sank down fully onto him. He stayed still for a moment, nuzzling her neck, then began to move, slowly at first, his thrusts careful and controlled. He slid a hand between them, his fingers seeking her clit, circling it in time with his slow pumping. Her legs circling his hips started to shake and she clasped his neck as her orgasm ripped through her with sudden, unexpected force.

  The control James had held onto was obliterated when Freddie came, writhing and moaning. Abandoning the slow, careful approach, James gripped her hips and began to drive into her faster. Freddie hung on to his neck, her hips rocking to meet him, allowing him to get even deeper. When release came, it was all he could do to stay on his feet as he pressed his hips to hers and moaned into her wet hair.

  When the world came back into focus, Freddie was looking up at him, an odd expression on her face. “You ok?” he asked.

  She nodded, her legs sliding from his hips. He let her down, disposing of the condom and rejoining her in the shower, where she was rinsing her hair.

  “No shampoo,” she said wryly and he rubbed his shaved head.

  “Nope. But I’ll get some for you. Conditioner too.” He turned her toward him, massaging her scalp with careful fingers. She closed her eyes and groaned.

  “That feels really good.”

  “This is what feels good?”

  She laughed. “It all feels good. Feels right.”

  “Yes. Yes it does.” Grabbing a bar of soap, he washed her body, working his way from her shoulders to the soles of her feet, omitting nothing in between. When he was done, she held out her hands.

  “Your turn.”

  “No. Later. Tonight I want everything to be about you.”

  She gave him a muzzy smile, her face tired. “You’re too sweet to me.”

  “Nope. Go on, get dry. I’ll be right behind you.”

  She was toweling her hair by the time he got himself cleaned up and turned off the water. “Good thing I have a brush in my bag. Otherwise I might have to cut the snarls right out of my hair.” She wound the towel around herself.

  He watched her go, all tousled, damp curls and terry cloth and his throat thickened. He had almost lost her for good. He couldn’t let it happen ever again. When she came back, already de-snarling her hair, she gave him a quizzical look.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Everything’s very right. But I was thinking how it almost was wrong.”

  She paused and looked at him, her eyes solemn. “Yeah. That was pretty awful.”

  “Let’s not do it ever again. Be apart.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I don’t know yet. One thing at a time, you know?”

  “Okay.”

  “Let me do that.” He held out his hand and she put the brush in it, standing patiently while he worked through each strand. When her hair was free of tangles, he tugged off the towel she was wearing and hung it up. “Let’s go to bed. You look exhausted.”

  “That bad?”

  “No. Beautiful. Just tired. I want to fall asleep with you.”

  In the bedroom, he drew the covers over them both and curled his body around her. She felt warm and soft, and the smell of her was familiar and comforting. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he was gratified to feel her sigh as her body relaxed into sleep.

  Epilogue

  James clasped his hands between his knees, leaned his elbows on his thighs and gazed at Freddie. Weak spring light from the window next to her illuminated her downturned face as she looked at the tiny bundle in her arms. It was a scene so close to the one he had imagined all those months ago, it was a little eerie.

  Freddie lifted her head and looked at him, her face one big, glowing smile. “Isn’t she perfect?”

  “She was perfectly unwilling to come into the world after waiti
ng a full two weeks after her due date,” Cath said from the hospital bed, her face pale and wan. She had gone a full twenty-four hours of labor only to have an emergency C-section when her temperature spiked.

  “She’s here now. You’re still here.” Paul looked pasty and his normally wild hair looked positively feral. Dark hollows ringed his eyes, but he kissed his wife’s forehead, his gaze moving from her face to the pink cheeks of his daughter in Freddie’s arms.

  Cath patted his hand resting on her shoulder. “We’re all here. We’re all fine. You didn’t die of worry and Beatrice is…”

  “Perfect.” Freddie said. She looked at James, her eyes shining. “You want to hold her?”

  When they had first arrived to visit Paul, Cath, and the newly arrived Beatrice, James thought there was nothing he would want to do less than take responsibility for the impossibly fragile newborn. But Freddie’s glowing face made him hold out his arms without another thought.

  “Make sure her head is supported,” Freddie said, relinquishing the tiny bundle to him. He cupped Beatrice’s skull in his palm, wondering at the slight weight of the infant.

  “She’s so small,” he said, looking at Cath and Paul.

  Cath snorted. “Didn’t feel so small when she was trying to come into the world.”

  Paul’s fingers tightened on his wife’s shoulder. “And she didn’t feel small when I was terrified I was going to lose you both.”

  Shooting him a weary, exasperated smile, Cath said, “We’re all here. All fine. You can stop worrying now.”

  “I can start worrying now, you mean.” His gaze returned to his daughter, his expression a strange mix of pride and bewilderment. “College alone…I can’t imagine.” He shook his head.

  “We have eighteen years to sort that one out. How about we take one thing at a time?” Cath leaned her cheek against Paul’s arm, her wry smile taking the astringency out of her pointed words.

  James looked down at the round, red face of the infant in his arms. Beatrice’s tiny, rosebud mouth worked and her cloudy blue eyes sought something. One arm escaped her swaddling and waved in the air. Her face crumpled and an ear-splitting wail erupted from her squared-off mouth.

  “I think she hates me,” he said, alarm surging in him, his head swiveling, seeking the most responsible adult to take charge of the tiny human klaxon.

  “She’s hungry. Again. Already,” Cath said as Paul relieved James of the tiny, yet staggering, weight of the newborn.

  “We should probably get going,” James said, reaching for Freddie’s hand as Cath untied the tapes of her hospital gown, getting ready to bare a breast for Beatrice. He was pro breast feeding on principle, but he drew the line at witnessing his former boss’s wife actually doing it.

  Paul looked up after settling the baby in Cath’s arms. “Thanks for coming by.”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Let us know if there’s anything we can do,” Freddie said, squeezing James’s hand as if she was aware of his discomfort. “Diapers, rash cream, ear plugs, we’re just a text away.”

  Freddie nearly laughed out loud as they rode the elevator down. “Are you really that afraid of Cath’s nipple?”

  James shifted next to her. “It just seems disrespectful.”

  “Feeding a baby is disrespectful?”

  “Watching someone take off their clothes is disrespectful. Or someone I’m not sleeping with, or…I don’t know. It just felt wrong.”

  “You’re adorable.” Freddie jabbed an elbow into James’ side and he swooped in for a kiss that turned a little too lingering. The elevator stopped to let someone on and James straightened, schooling his features to a neutral expression.

  Freddie leaned into James’ side as the elevator continued its descent. She closed her eyes, soaking in the warmth of his body. He squeezed her hand and tugged her out as the elevator reached the ground floor.

  “What do you want for dinner?” he asked as they stepped outside and walked toward the taxi stand. Taking cars instead of the subway was one of the publicist’s suggestions to avoid attention. Freddie wasn’t crazy about restricting the way she got around the city, but it was true that there were fewer photos when she didn’t take the subway with James.

  Of course, when she took it by herself, nothing happened. No pictures, no publicity. The familiarity of anonymity was soothing.

  Navigating this new life was a challenge, to be sure. James’s public statements made it plain that he was in a relationship and it was not open for discussion. The online fandom continued to simmer with interest about her, but Freddie had finally disciplined herself and stopped taking “just one more look” at the tumblr blogs and the Twitter feeds.

  “Hmm.” Freddie looked at James speculatively.

  James skewered her with a look. “If you’re wondering if I’m up for Lin’s three times in one week, no. You’re going to turn into a pot sticker at this rate.”

  Freddie shrugged. “Don’t much care, then. You choose.”

  James held the taxi door and she got in, leaning against him when he slid in beside her and gave the driver the address. An ad for his show began playing on the little video screen and he groaned, leaning forward to kill the sound and covering his eyes. “Tell me when it’s over.”

  “Big baby.” Freddie poked him in the ribs and looked at the silent figures on the screen. There was James, leaning his hip on a desk, having some sort of Very Serious Conversation with Alexander. “I can’t wait to see it. It looks really fun.”

  “Is it over yet?” he said, hand still firmly clamped over his eyes.

  “No. Must be a long one they cut for the internet.”

  “Spare me.”

  “You’re the one with your hand over your eyes. Okay. It’s done.”

  James peeked through his fingers first, as if he didn’t believe her. “Phew.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “I suppose I shouldn’t complain. It does pay the bills.”

  “You love it, you big faker.”

  “I love the job. I don’t love looking at myself.”

  Freddie tilted her head, looking at him out of the corners of her eyes.

  “For real.” His fingers flexed, squeezing her shoulder.

  “Hm. Okay.”

  When the taxi dropped them off, James grabbed her hand, greeting the doorman as they entered and riding up in the elevator in comfortable silence. Opening the door, a sleepily blinking, furry face met them in the entryway.

  “There’s my second best girl.” James lifted Miranda and nuzzled her fur with his nose. Freddie rolled her eyes and took off her jacket, scratching behind Miranda’s ear as she passed them to go into the living room. She still thought of it as James’ apartment, even though she and Miranda had lived there for over a month. But that was her paperback on the coffee table, and her clothes hung next to his in the big closet. Her laptop rested on the dining table.

  James followed her into the room, Miranda cradled in his arm like a blissed-out baby. Freddie was reminded of Beatrice: her soft skin, tiny fingers, and rosebud mouth.

  “Developed any opinions on dinner?” he asked.

  “No,” she said, tickling the cat’s chin with her finger.

  “Ever think about having one?”

  “What?” Freddie stepped back. “An opinion on dinner?”

  “No.” James’ voice was soft, hesitant. His eyes were shining with naked sincerity. “A baby.”

  Freddie’s face flooded with heat. Was he reading her mind? “Um. Maybe someday?”

  “Good.” James bent to kiss her, letting Miranda drop gently to the floor. Freddie stepped into his arms, her hands finding the back of his neck, her lips meeting his.

  “Miranda, don’t even think about it,” Freddie said, seeing the cat starting to rear up on her haunches out of the corner of her eyes.

  James stepped back and looked at Miranda, who was eyeing him speculatively.

  “Come on,” he said, extending his hand and leading Freddie to the bedroom, quietly
shutting Miranda out.

  “You’re learning.” Freddie suppressed a laugh.

  James leaned in to kiss her again. “Always.”

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  Chapter 1 of Fast Acting

  Want to get a sneak peek of Book 4 in the Center Stage series? Check out this preview of Kathleen and Russell’s first meeting at Colin and Alicia’s (of Method Acting)’s destination wedding.

  * * *

  Kathleen hoisted her suitcase out of the trunk of her little car with a grunt and dropped it to the parking lot with a crackle of gravel.

  Alicia lifted a blond eyebrow as she shut her car door and looked from the suitcase to Kathleen and back at the suitcase. “How much stuff do you need for a long weekend, anyway?”

  Huffing a laugh, Kathleen leveled a finger at her friend. “I had to have options. You’re only getting married once. At least, you’d better, because Colin is too perfect.” Eyeing the distance between the parking lot and the hotel, Kathleen nearly groaned. The wheels on her bag would be useless on the endless gravel. She’d have to haul it.

  Her arms were going to fall off.

  “I don’t suppose this castle has strapping footmen to haul luggage?” Kathleen asked hopefully, pulling her tote out and settling it on her shoulder. It felt nearly as heavy as her wheelie bag.

  Alicia, ever the light packer, pulled out a considerably smaller suitcase and a garment bag. “Welcome to the twenty-first century, milady. We carry our own stuff now.”