All That Lies Within

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All That Lies Within Page 24

by Lynn Ames


  Dara put the car in park and applauded. “Brava! Brava!”

  “Very funny.”

  “I’m serious. I got all of the intonation and the intent of the scene. It was inspired. I loved it. All of it. And there wasn’t one U-N-E-Q-U-I-V-O-C-A-L-L-Y in the entire scene.”

  “I can add one in, if you’d like?”

  “What I’d like,” Dara said, gazing deeply into Rebecca’s eyes, “is to find a WiFi spot so that you can e-mail the file and stop working for the night.”

  Rebecca swallowed hard. “Oh. Okay.” She glanced out the window at the ocean and the darkening sky. “Do you have a spot in mind?”

  “I do.”

  Dara threw the car in reverse and headed back out onto Sunset and then down the Pacific Coast Highway. “I really think you’re going to like it.”

  “I’m sure I will.” Rebecca admired the breathtaking scenery, soaking in the hues of the skyline as the sun set into the ocean, setting it on fire. “This is gorgeous.”

  “I’m glad you think so.”

  The car stopped and Rebecca glanced around. They were parked in the circular drive of a spectacular beach house. Rebecca glanced around in confusion. “Who lives here?”

  “I do,” Dara tossed over her shoulder as she hopped out of the car. “Remember? I told you I had a beach house. Are you coming in, or do you just want to sit there? And bring the briefcase.”

  Rebecca scrambled out of the passenger seat. “This is your little beach house?”

  “It is.”

  “Holy crap.”

  “That was profound, Professor. Hurry up and get in here. We’re losing the sunset.”

  Rebecca hustled through the front door with her briefcase in hand.

  “I’ll type in the WiFi password for you. You send the file while I put a few things away.” Dara snatched the briefcase from her and got to work. “Okay. You’re in. Make it snappy.” She moved away and into the kitchen.

  Rebecca logged into her e-mail, pulled up the next scene they would shoot tomorrow, attached it to an e-mail with a brief note to Audrey and George, and hit Send.

  “Are you done?”

  “I am.”

  “Good.” Dara grabbed her by the hand. “Come with me.”

  They headed out a set of sliding glass doors at the back of the house and out onto a deck.

  “You might want to roll your pants up a little and take off your shoes,” Dara advised, as she removed the cowboy boots and rolled up her jeans.

  When Rebecca complied, Dara took her hand again and led her down the steps of the deck and onto the beach. “If we hurry, we can just catch the last of it.”

  They reached the shoreline just as the sun dipped below the horizon, leaving streaks of orange, red, pink, and yellow in the sky. Not a word passed between them as they stood, hand in hand, watching the sky transform from day to night, listening to the rhythmic sound of the waves lapping gently against the shore and the occasional cry of a gull.

  “Did you enjoy that?” Dara asked, when the last vestiges of light faded away.

  “That was awe-inspiring. The stuff of poetry.” She turned to Dara and took her other hand. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”

  “I-I haven’t wanted to share that with anyone in many, many years. Too many to count really. But all day long I kept thinking about how much I wanted to share it with you.”

  “I’m so glad you did.”

  “Me too.” Dara rubbed her thumbs over the backs of Rebecca’s hands, sending chills up her arms. “If I’m right, I think there are many things I’m going to want to share with you. But I’m a very private person and this doesn’t come easily for me. For right now, though, I need for you to understand something about what happened between us the other night.”

  “You don’t owe me any explanations.”

  “Shh. I want to explain. To understand why I reacted the way I did the other night, you need to know that you’re the first woman I’ve kissed in a very, very long time.”

  “Oh.”

  Dara looked away toward the ocean for a moment. When she turned back to Rebecca, there were tears in her eyes. “When I was acting in that first Williamstown production, I met a woman. Her name was Sheilah. She was older, and sophisticated, and she wooed me with flowers and love notes and lavished attention on me.” Dara let go of Rebecca’s hands and wrapped her arms around herself. “I was young and naïve, and I thought we were very much in love.”

  Dara met Rebecca’s eyes and in that instant, Rebecca saw raw pain and anguish. She wanted to pull Dara close, but sensed that Dara needed to finish this.

  “I was so wrong. Belatedly, too late for my heart, I discovered that Sheilah was only interested in window dressing. In the end, I was nothing more than a pretty thing she wanted as a trophy—something to make her friends and business colleagues envious.”

  “Oh, Dara.” Rebecca couldn’t stand it anymore. She pulled Dara to her. Although she was met with some initial resistance, Dara capitulated and allowed herself to be held. “I’m so, so sorry for that. I know how devastating that can be.”

  “Yeah, well,” Dara straightened up and pulled back a little. “I learned a lot from that experience. She wasn’t the first one with ulterior motives, although she was the first woman. But I’ll tell you this,” Dara’s gaze was piercing. “She was the last. I promised myself then that I would never be used like that again. And I meant it.” Dara’s voice shook.

  Rebecca could feel the waves of confusion and anger emanating from Dara. “So when you kissed me the other night, you were afraid that I’d be just like Sheilah.”

  Dara nodded and hung her head. “Yes. I’m not proud of that. And I realize that I kissed you, not the other way around. But you’re only here for ninety days, then you’ll leave here and go back to your real life, and I’ll be nothing but—”

  “Please, God, tell me you weren’t about to say a notch on my belt. You weren’t, right?” Now it was Rebecca’s voice that shook. “Let me tell you a little bit about myself, Dara. I had my own Sheilah. Her name was Cynthia. I didn’t catch a clue until I found her in our bed with our landscape designer. I know what it feels like to be used. To be treated like a toy that’s easily discarded when something or someone else comes along. If you think I could be remotely capable of being like Cynthia, or Sheilah… Well, the thought makes me sick to my stomach.

  “If you couldn’t tell from my letters and from our short time together so far that I’m not that kind of person, then I really shouldn’t be here.” Rebecca turned and ran, tears spilling out of the corners of her eyes.

  “Hey! Hey! Wait. Rebecca, please wait.” Dara caught her around the waist and held her from behind. “Don’t go. Please, don’t go.”

  Rebecca struggled for another few seconds, then dropped to her knees on the sand. “Dara. I was in love with you before I knew who you were, before I knew what you looked like. I didn’t care. I fell in love with your words, and your mind, and your soul, which was so evident in the pages of your books. Then, when you answered my letters… I fell even more in love. You were passionate, and smart, and funny, and humble.” She took a shaky breath. “I knew that I could never find anyone in real life like Constance. And then when I figured it out and you freaked, I mourned you. I mourned losing Constance. Not Dara, because I didn’t know her yet. But Constance, with whom I was, ridiculously, madly in love.”

  She held up a hand as Dara came around and knelt in the sand in front of her.

  “Don’t. Let me finish. When I got the call from the studio and came out here and learned what they wanted from me, all I wanted to do was to get back on a plane and go home. The idea of spending time around you, knowing you would never feel the way I did, was more than I was ready to bear.”

  “Rebecca—”

  “But then I met with Carolyn. I didn’t tell her how I felt about you—about Constance. It seemed absurd and childish. But she convinced me that I should sit down with you. So I did. I believed that Constan
ce needed my help. Not you. Dara would be just fine, whether it was this project or another. But Constance couldn’t get her movie made unless I subjugated my feelings for you and got the job done. And that’s what I intended to do.

  “Spending the other day with you, shopping and playing, and working, all I wanted to do was kiss you. But I didn’t do it. No, I knew I needed to put my feelings aside and stay professional. And then you kissed me and…” Rebecca sobbed.

  Dara pulled her into her arms. “I’m sorry. God, please don’t cry. Don’t cry, baby. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

  Somewhere in the deep recesses of her mind, Rebecca heard the term of endearment, but it didn’t stick. She wanted to pull away, to disappear, but the feel of Dara holding her tight—of Constance, holding her in her arms—the allure of it was too strong. She gave in and allowed herself to be held until all her tears were spent.

  When Rebecca stopped fighting for air, Dara put a palm to her cheek. “I think I knew I loved you when I saw that first video of you teaching my work on YouTube. We’d been corresponding a few times by the time I stumbled across it. I was transfixed. I never envisioned someone, anyone, could so totally and thoroughly understand my work—could understand me. And yet, there you were.

  “But I knew I could never have you, or let you know who I was, because I couldn’t find my way clear to trust again or to open my heart to love. And then you showed up at Letterman and I had no idea what to do with that. My fight or flight instincts kicked in and, well, the rest is history.” Dara shook her head.

  “When you turned up here, completely out of the blue, I felt cornered. Without you, there would be no movie. With you? Every day I’d have to face the one person I believed might really see me for who I am.” She laughed mirthlessly. “I didn’t even make it a day without giving in and kissing you. Not even one day. Nobody gets through my defenses like that. Nobody.” Dara framed Rebecca’s face with both hands. “Nobody except you. And right here, right now? I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  Before Rebecca could say another word, Dara kissed her. Softly at first, her lips gentle and probing. But as their hearts caught up to their mouths, Rebecca deepened the kiss, her movements mirroring her emotions. Dara matched her stroke for stroke, until they were moving and breathing as one.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  “Can we—”

  “Take this inside?” Dara asked, breathless. “Yes.” But she resumed right where they’d left off.

  “Dara?”

  “Yes? Oh. Inside. Right.” She struggled to get to her feet without relinquishing Rebecca’s lips. They tasted so sweet.

  Finally, Rebecca put a hand on Dara’s chest. “If you don’t stop kissing me right now, we’re going to make love out here and end up with sand in too many unmentionable places to count. Could make for an uncomfortable day on set for you tomorrow, picking sand out of—”

  Dara smothered Rebecca’s next words with another kiss. Without losing contact, she murmured, “Got it. Heading inside, right now.” It took all her willpower, but she managed to step back.

  “Why are you standing still?” Rebecca teased, as she grabbed Dara’s hand and ran toward the house.

  Dara barely managed to close and lock the glass doors before she whipped off Rebecca’s blouse and bra. “Far enough,” she breathed, pushing Rebecca up against the glass. Her hands skimmed the soft skin at the base of Rebecca’s breasts and the two women groaned in unison. Without missing a beat, she relieved Rebecca of her slacks and panties too.

  Rebecca’s mouth found her nipple before Dara realized her own bra and top were gone. At the first touch of Rebecca’s warm tongue, Dara’s knees wobbled. She surged forward, pushing further into Rebecca’s mouth. How could I have forgotten what it feels like to be loved and to want to love in return?

  Dara wanted to keep control, wanted to be in charge, but Rebecca’s ministrations undid her.

  “Reb—”

  Rebecca stopped her with a finger on her lips. “I don’t want you to talk right now. I want you to know, deep inside, everything I feel for you—for all of who you are. Let me show you.”

  Dara’s breasts heaved and her heart swelled as Rebecca unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans, easing them off her hips and letting them pool around her ankles.

  Slowly, lovingly, Rebecca ran her hands along Dara’s waist and down her hips, teasing her fingers around the edges of Dara’s lace panties.

  Moisture pooled in Dara’s center as Rebecca lowered herself until she knelt in front of Dara. When she paused to kiss Dara through the material, Dara arched backward and dug her nails into Rebecca’s shoulders. “Oh, God.”

  Gentle hands helped her untangle her feet from the jeans and step free. Feather light kisses and caresses created a trail of desire at once so sweet and so powerful that Dara wanted to weep. Never in her life had anything felt so right, and they’d barely begun.

  Carefully, without a word, Rebecca guided her to the floor, sliding Dara underneath her as her thigh pressed into Dara’s center.

  Dara’s heart stuttered at the look of naked adulation and love in Rebecca’s eyes, and she recognized something she’d never seen with a lover before—the look was for her. Not the movie star, not the pretty face—simply her, with all her flaws and vulnerabilities. Tears filled her eyes.

  “I love you, Dara Constance Darrow Thomas,” Rebecca said softly. “I love everything about you.”

  Dara’s lips trembled as Rebecca removed her panties and lowered herself to drink. There was nothing hurried or frenzied about it, just long, languid movements that told Dara she was cherished. She rose up to meet Rebecca, her hips rising and falling to the rhythm of Rebecca’s tongue, until she crested on a whisper and a prayer.

  She closed her eyes, savoring the moment, as Rebecca covered her with her body and kissed her deeply on the mouth. Never had lovemaking felt like this.

  Rebecca’s thigh insinuated itself once again between her legs, and Dara’s body rocked against the long muscle. She’d never been capable of multiple orgasms.

  “Oh. Oh.” Dara tried to swallow and catch her breath all at the same time, but it was impossible. Her hips arched up and she opened to accept Rebecca’s delicate, delectable fingers as they curved up into her, creating waves of sensation that rolled through her, taking her out of her body to a place she’d never been before, and never knew existed.

  When she came back into herself, Rebecca was smiling down at her, smoothing wisps of damp hair away from her face.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Mmm.” Dara wanted to say more, but couldn’t catch the words as they floated by. Instead, she wrapped her fingers around the back of Rebecca’s neck and pulled her down for a thorough, soul-shaking kiss.

  As she regained her equilibrium, Dara rolled them over until she was on top. With slow, deliberate movements, she teased and tested, probing for sensitive spots with her fingers and her tongue.

  Rebecca’s responsiveness nearly unraveled her again, but Dara resisted all attempts to distract her. She met Rebecca’s gaze, locking onto the intensity and desire held within. And then she noticed something else—a razor’s edge of fear.

  “Are you okay? Is this—”

  “I… Since Cynthia, I haven’t been able to—”

  “Shh,” Dara soothed. “Stop talking. Stop thinking. And focus on me. Just me. There’s no one else. No ghosts, no shadows. No broken promises. Just me, and you, and love. I promise you love.” She bent her elbows so that their breasts brushed against one another, then settled her body more firmly on top of Rebecca and smoothed her hand down Rebecca’s belly and in between her legs. Oh, my God, babe. You’re soaked.

  Dara rubbed gentle circles on Rebecca’s swollen clit, rejoicing as she shuddered at the contact. Then she slid down, lifted Rebecca’s hips, and ran her tongue through velvety folds, sampling the sweetness within.

  “Oh, my God. Dara, please don’t stop.”

  “Never.” Dara tried to remember ever feeling mo
re alive than she did at that moment. Rebecca levitated off the floor. Her back arched as she pushed her hips forward, seeking deeper contact. She came, calling Dara’s name, the sound echoing off the glass doors.

  After the last shudder, Rebecca grabbed for her with a fierceness that rocked Dara and nearly made her come again. For long moments, they held each other tightly, breathing heavily, sated and sure of the only thing that mattered right now—they both were loved.

  Rebecca propped herself up on an elbow to watch Dara as she slept. They made it to the bed in time for several more rounds of lovemaking and, exhausted, fell asleep in a tangle of arms and legs and soft sheets.

  Now it was almost three o’clock, Dara had to be on set by five, and they still hadn’t gone over the pages for today. Dara looked like an angel with her hair splayed across the pillow, and Rebecca couldn’t bring herself to wake her.

  So she slipped out of the bed and tiptoed out into the living room to find her clothes. They were strewn haphazardly near the doors to the deck, tangled together with Dara’s tank top and bra.

  Rebecca caught her reflection in the glass of the doors. Her hair was tousled and she looked as relaxed and sated as she felt. Could this be real? It certainly felt like it was. Multiple times during the night Dara had told her she loved her. Was that only about lust?

  Well, it’s certainly about a lot more than that for me. Rebecca had had her share of lovers over the years. Making love with them felt nothing like what happened between her and Dara last night. There was a balletic sensuality and an emotional richness to their lovemaking that pushed the experience far beyond lust. The night wasn’t about having sex, as often was the case with first-time lovers, even if the relationships lasted well past that initial night. No, there was something far deeper at work here.

  Or maybe we were just healing each other from past wounds. But Rebecca didn’t think so.

  She jumped and then relaxed as long arms wrapped around her from behind and soft lips kissed the juncture between her neck and shoulder.

 

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