by Staci Hart
Her fingers were in my hair and mine on her thighs, pushing them against her ribs, wanting her open, wanting inside of her, first with my hands, then with my tongue. The rest of me would find its way later, but for that moment, I would own her with my mouth alone. I licked up the line of her, sucked and teased, rolled and moaned with her in my mouth until her legs shook under my palms. I rested them on my shoulders, freeing my hands to rid us both of the satin in my way with a fist full of fabric and a flex, shredding it.
My eyes were closed, hands and lips busy, my heart pounding in my ears as her thighs clenched. When I finally looked up, looked at her — hands on her breast, bra pulled down, fingers clenched around her nipple — she was looking down at me, her eyes full of exquisite pain and pleasure. And the second our eyes met, she gasped, then shuddered, then squeezed me with her legs, her hands, the rest of her pulsing against my hand and mouth as she gave me what I wanted.
The moment her body relaxed, she whispered my name, and I knew I’d do whatever she asked of me.
But I’d take my time, moving up her body with my lips to her skin, in the circle of her arms, and when I reached her mouth, she took mine with the possession I felt for her. So I gave it right back, telling her with my fingers in her hair, with my lips pressed to hers, with my body pressing her into the bed, that she was mine.
Her hands moved across my body, under my shirt, across my abs, to my chest. Everywhere she touched was on fire, branding me.
I broke away only long enough to pull my shirt off before my lips were against hers again, her hands fumbling at my belt, unfastening my pants, pushing them over my ass, freeing the rest of me. She halted the kiss to look down at her hands, pressing her forehead to my lips as she watched her fingers close around the length of me, and I sucked in a breath at the contact, flexing into her palms.
She squeezed gently, and I dropped my head, whispering her name with my lips to her ear, and hers to mine as she answered with a single word: Please.
I throbbed in her hand and pulled away, kicking off my boots, then my pants as she muttered something, reaching for my cock, back arched as she ran her fingers up the length of me, guiding me toward her, pressing me against her core.
I drew in a breath at the contact of my bare tip against her hot, wet center and pulled back.
“Hang on,” I begged her or myself, reaching over the bed for my pants, praying my wallet was within reach.
“No,” she begged, fingers digging into my ass, pulling me down as she lifted her hips, angling for me. “It’s safe. I’m safe.”
Safe. I knew what she meant, but my heart clenched, and I slipped a hand in her hair. “You sure?”
“Yes. Fuck, Joel, yes. Please.”
It was all the permission I needed. I lowered my face as I lowered my hips, pressing my crown against her, flexing, sliding into her as I watched her face smoothing with every inch I filled her, stopping at the end, staying there for a long moment as I brushed her face with my thumbs, felt her all around me, our bodies connected. It had been years since I’d been bared this way, my heart, my body.
I’d forgotten. I’d forgotten how to trust, how to feel, how much I needed to be felt.
I took her lips, slipping my tongue into her mouth as I pulled out and flexed, pumping into her. Then again as her legs curled around me. Again and I was already close, but so was she, my body clenching, muscles contracting in waves as I rolled against her. There was no pride, just the honesty of that connection, just her body around mine, mine inside of her.
My name again, as if from a distance, and I wondered if she’d said it aloud or if her body had whispered it as she held me, as I rocked into her until the build was too much, my heartbeat too much, Annika too much. And I came with a soft cry, filling her, pumping my hips to get as deep as I could. She was right behind me, her hips swinging, sliding me in and out to the rhythm she needed as her body let go again.
I buried my face in her neck, eyes pinned shut, fingers clenched in her hair, clinging to her as she clung to me. I couldn’t let her go.
CATCH A FALLING STAR
Annika
WHEN I WOKE THE NEXT morning, I was surrounded by Joel.
His big arms held me into his chest like a velvet cage, his legs scissored in mine and beard tickling my forehead. I’d never been so comfortable in my whole life. He was just like Papa had said — a big, hairy bear, silly and sweet and ferocious, all at the same time.
I probably should have been hot, but I wasn’t at all, even though he radiated heat like a furnace. It was helped by the fact that we had a sheet draped over only the bottom half of us, but it was as if our bodies just regulated to each other rather than contributing heat. I could sleep wrapped up in him like this every night, and the feeling was so strong. I pushed away an errant thought of sleeping without him like a plate of lima beans. I didn’t want to be without him. And as strange as I should have felt about that, I didn’t. Not at all. In fact, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world.
He pulled in a noisy breath through his nose, signaling consciousness, but I didn’t pull away or give him room, squeezing him instead, nestling under his chin. His answer was the tightening of his arms around me.
“Time is it?” he mumbled.
“Dunno,” I answered against his collarbone. “Before six — my alarm didn’t go off.”
“Mmm,” he hummed. “Then there’s time.”
I laughed as he pressed exactly what there was time for against my stomach. And then I nipped his neck, and he growled, rolling me over to make a more distinct impression on me.
His lips were hungry — the rest of him hungry too as he slipped inside of me like he’d never left. It was my arms around his neck and his hand on my thigh, the sheet slipping as he rocked into me, harder and faster, hovering over me so I could see him, so I could look down the line of our bodies to the seam where they connected, and we both fell again and again, fell into each other.
It almost felt like a dream. We lay there for a little while, wrapped up in each other. He’d tuck my hair behind my ear, and I’d blush. He’d say something funny, and I’d laugh. In fact, I hadn’t laughed so much in I didn’t know how long, hadn’t smiled, hadn’t been me. I wondered just how long I’d been hiding, but shied away when I realized the vastness of time.
I kissed him to erase the thought, to live wholly in that moment in his arms.
But the daylight called. I climbed out of bed, my body aching in all the right places as I pulled on a black satin robe and opened my bedroom door, listening for Kira and Roxy, but they were still asleep, the house quiet. I waved Joel out behind me like we were cat burglars, and we snuck into the bathroom, stifling laughter while Kaz judged us from the hallway. Well, I was laughing — Joel just smirked, holding his clothes over his privates, which was the funniest part of all of it.
I turned on the shower, and we whispered and laughed some more before stepping in together. We hadn’t planned on having sex again — or at least I hadn’t. I wasn’t even sure my body could have another orgasm until I was accosted happily by soaking wet Joel, slick with soap I’d made the mistake of rubbing all over him. He was so hard, all silky skin over hard muscles. He’d been rubbing soap all over me too, which was mistake number two. Before we could even stop ourselves, I was wrapped around his waist, hot water streaming down us as he lifted me by the ass and let gravity do its work, over and over until it happened again, my body giving him anything he wanted, anything he asked for.
I told you — Joel turned me into an animal, and I wasn’t even sorry about it.
We snuck back out of the bathroom to the sounds of breakfast downstairs, and were safely in my room before anyone was the wiser. Joel stood in the middle of my room with a towel wrapped around his waist, running a hand through his hair, and I thought I heard my ovaries pop.
So we got dressed while I did my best not to climb all over him again, just to see if I had more hidden orgasms in my body that he might be able to coa
x out. But I kept my cool, and we headed downstairs to eat, effectively ending naked time with Joel for at least a few hours. I smiled to myself, thinking about working with him all day. Maybe we could sneak off. I’d definitely see him that night, but that seemed an age away.
I sighed, smiling at him from across the table as he talked to Kira about a show she was watching on her iPad, something about fingers. She sang a little song I’d heard a million times about Daddy fingers and Mommy fingers that repeated on and on, ad infinitum while Joel made her stuffed bunny dance on the table. Roxy had taken on the task of breakfast — bacon, eggs, and toast — and we ate, sipping coffee as we talked and laughed. And after I helped Roxy clean up, I found him and Kira on the floor in the living room, playing with Kaz, the two of them giggling and whispering. I swear to God, Joel Anderson giggling quietly was one of the most precious and ridiculous things I’d ever witnessed.
The whole thing felt so … right. I imagined him talking to a little girl of his own, one with blond hair and a button nose, with green eyes flecked with gold and blue, like his, and I was overcome by the vision.
How I’d gone from loathing him to this, I wasn’t sure. But I didn’t want to go back. Only forward. With him.
We shared a cab back to the West Side, stopping at the coffee shop down the street from Tonic to grab a cup and walk to work together, under the story that we’d met that morning over the ledgers, nothing more. Not that I’d spent my night and morning wrapped up in him. No, no, it was all business. It seemed laughable that anyone would believe it — I could feel his body calling to me like a blinking neon sign — but I prayed that they would buy it, because we weren’t ready for the ramifications of being outed.
I hated to leave him at the door of the shop, but we said goodbye cordially, and I turned for the door to the apartments, climbing three flights to get to the control room.
It was busy as ever, and I greeted everyone as I made my way through, finding Laney in the office at her computer.
She glanced up at me with an unreadable expression on her face as she sat back in her chair, watching me as I set my bag down on my desk and sat across from her.
“Morning,” I said, ignoring whatever she was doing.
“Morning. Sleep well?”
“Like a baby,” I answered, not skipping a beat as I opened my laptop.
“Good. Because I have news that may keep you up tonight.”
I cut my eyes to her, then back to my computer as I pulled up my mail and pretended to read it. “Oh?”
She reached across our desks and pushed my laptop closed. “It’s about Hal and Liz.”
I sat back in her chair, trying not to fume, my face smooth. “What about them? Last time Hal left here he didn’t seem interested in coming back.”
Her lips were thin, and she looked older for that moment, worry creasing her face. “They got their own show.”
“What?” I shot louder than I meant to.
She nodded. “Another network. Apparently Hal pitched the idea to a producer, and it’s happening. And? It’s supposed to happen before we air.”
“Fuck,” I breathed, only thinking of Joel, of what he’d say. Of what he’d do.
“So, a couple of things need to happen. First, we need to ramp up production. So you and I need to sit down today and work out the schedule, figure out how we can speed things up.”
I nodded, feeling numb.
“Second, we need to stage telling Joel.”
I kept myself still, though my pulse ticked up a notch, and the traitorous flush climbed a hot path up my neck. “What do you mean?” I asked, knowing very well what she meant, hoping it wasn’t true all the while.
“What I mean is that you can’t tell him. Not until we have the cameras rolling and on him. Today is packed with filming we’ve had scheduled for weeks, and we can’t rearrange it for this.”
“We can do whatever the fuck we want. I can do whatever the fuck I want — I’m the show runner, for God’s sake.”
Her eyes narrowed. “So you’re going to reschedule three different tattoos with three different artists today? You’ve got a grand plan?”
“There’s a way. There’s always a way.”
“Not this time. I’ve already tried. This is it — we don’t have time to fuck around with the schedule when we’re trying to speed everything up. The simplest, most efficient and cost-effective thing we can do is not tell Joel until tomorrow.”
My jaw clenched.
“What’s the big deal? I mean, telling him about Hal isn’t going to make him go ballistic, but he’s going to be pissed, and I want real emotion. He can’t fake that. So why is that a problem?” she asked, baiting me.
“I just think it’s really shitty not to tell him.”
She made a face. “Who cares? It’s what we have to do to keep everything on track.”
“You’re saying we don’t have twenty minutes to film telling him between all of this?”
“No,” she volleyed, “because it’s not twenty minutes. It’s going to be a full day of not only following Joel around, but of interviewing the rest of the cast about it. So do your job.”
She was right. I knew she was right. But the thought of keeping this from Joel made my stomach turn, sending my breakfast up my esophagus. I swallowed hard. Maybe I could tell him, tell him to act surprised. But Laney would know. Joel was no actor. That was part of what made him so appealing. He was real, as real as they come.
“Annika,” she warned. “You cannot tell him until tomorrow.”
I pursed my lips and narrowed my eyes.
“I’m going to ask you again, and you’re going to answer yes or no. Is this a problem?”
She kept talking when I didn’t answer.
“Because this is your job. This is exactly what I was afraid of and exactly why I told you not to get attached. But you did. You fucked him and instead of using him, you got attached.”
My nostrils flared. “Says who?”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, my God. Says your body language. Reading people is my job, remember? So you made your choice, and now it’s time for you to face it. I’m sorry that you’re here, but this is exactly what I was trying to avoid. This is why I’ve been pushing you about him, because here you are, and it was all your choice. So, it’s time to face the music. Sack up, Belousov. Your job, or the guy? What’s it going to be?”
My job that I’d worked so hard to get or the guy who I found myself falling for? It was impossible. My plans had been dashed, and there were no exits, no paths out of the mess when I thought I had it on lock. And now … now I had to choose.
Laney wouldn’t forgive me for betraying the show, but Joel had given me permission to betray him from the beginning. He told me to do my job, and this was my job — to lie to him. He’d made the rules. And with that, the choice was made for me.
There was only one answer, and it settled in my chest like a block of ice, too cold to melt. “My job.”
Two words. I spoke those two words, and I knew he’d never forgive me for them. I didn’t know if I’d forgive myself. But I had no choice, just like I told him from the beginning. I’d worked too hard for too long to throw it away. I only hoped he’d understand, which was as likely as catching a falling star.
LIAR'S REMORSE
Annika
LANEY AND I SPENT THE morning going over the new, expedited calendar and the following day’s filming, which would start with telling Joel through a horrible game of telephone. I’d tell Shep, and Shep could tell him, and like a coward, I was glad I wouldn’t have to be the one to expose the truth I kept from him. I tried to work it out so I wasn’t even in the room when they filmed, hoping she would take my place, but she pulled rank. I had no choice. No options. I’d been backed into a corner.
I’d been a fool to think I could have walked away from this unscathed. A blind, proud fool.
I floated through the day in a haze, without a single moment to myself. Joel went about work as usual, tho
ugh I felt his presence, felt him watching me. The air had changed between us, crackling with questions and fear, but there was nothing to be done. There was nothing I could do but sit and wait for the train wreck, knowing it would come without the ability to save anyone, not even myself.
There was no time to contemplate, every minute of the day a whirl, moving from one segment to the next without even enough time to wolf down the catered food. We were packing up at the end of the day, everyone exhausted, when Joel finally approached for the first time since we’d parted ways in front of Tonic that morning. It seemed like a million years and a million miles had passed.
No one was close by — I sat in my set chair, working on paperwork to finish logging the day, and he stood near me, his body language tentative.
“Busy today, huh?” he said, his voice low and rumbling, comforting. But I didn’t deserve his comfort.
“It was. How’d you do?”
He shrugged. “Fine. The usual.” He moved closer, laying a hand on the back of my chair to look over my shoulder at the clipboard, as if we were talking about work. “Come see me tonight.”
My heart burned in my chest. “I’m so tired, Joel. I was thinking about going home.”
He smiled. “We can sleep.”
I would have laughed if it didn’t hurt so bad. I managed a small smile. “I doubt that.” Please, let it go. Please, leave it be. Please, take no for an answer.
He pointed at an arbitrary spot on the paper and leaned in, his lips near my ear. “We don’t have to talk. Just come to me tonight.”
It was too much. “I can’t. Not tonight.”
“Tell me why.” It was a demand, a quiet demand that scratched at my resolve.
“Joel, please,” I begged with a shaky breath.
He paused — I listened to him breathe for a moment before he finally spoke, his voice tight with understanding he couldn’t possibly possess. “Don’t do this, Annika. Whatever it is, don’t do it.”
