by Vivien Vale
SLAP!
“We’re the best, Brad. We make an excellent team. Like Batman and Robin.”
I smirk, and she smirks back. I know what that means. “That makes me Robin, doesn’t it?”
“It sure does, Brad.”
Kayla
I check my reflection. Looks good. Tight black skirt, white blouse, black jacket, and matching shoes give me the serious writer look I want to portray.
Today’s a special day, and I have to look my best.
Ian and Ed wanted a war…and they’re about to get one.
“You look hot,” Scott whispers in my ear as he walks past. I quash the flicker of desire with thoughts of ice water.
A quick check of my wristwatch confirms that the head of the network should be walking through the door to our set any second. And right on queue, he comes in.
I nod in his direction and am pleased to see Derrick intercept him before Ed gets to him.
With a deep breath, I walk to the set.
Brad and Scott both smile at me in an encouraging sort of way. They know what’s about to happen. Scott gives me the thumbs up.
I catch a glimpse of Ian and Ed in an intense discussion. This is going to be so good.
A feeling of schadenfreude overcomes me already. Pricks, both of them. They deserve what’s about to happen.
“What’s going on, Kayla?” Ed stops me midstep.
Is that fear I hear in his voice?
“Baby cakes, tell me what you’re up to.”
“I told you not to call me that,” I say coolly and push past him.
Ian is now by Ed’s side.
“What did she tell you?” I hear Ian ask Ed, but I just ignore the two of them.
I push past them. When I’m on the set, I take a bundle of papers from one of the prop boys.
“First of all, let me welcome Mr. Prong, head of the network, to the set today.” I pause to applaud. The others join me. “I have invited the honorable Mr. Prong to watch our filming today.”
I pause to relish in the electric atmosphere and then add, “There’s been a rewrite.”
Ian snorts, and Ed visibly tenses.
“Here’s the amended script.”
I walk over to Ian and Ed to give them the paper.
Frantically, Ian flicks through the pages. His face visibly whitens to the color of a ghost.
“She can’t do this, Ed.” Ian’s voice is near hysterical.
“Oh, yes I can,” I reply for Ed.
Ed glares at me.
“Really, Kayla. I thought we talked about this.” He holds the typed pages toward me.
I nod. “We did, and you did not want to listen to my ideas. You dictated what should happen, and your ideas were not in the best interest of the show but in the best interest of yourself.”
I hear Ian gasp in disbelief. I chuckle inwardly. He must have read about his own death.
When I had made up my mind to kill Ian off, I had to work out how.
“You can’t kill me off.” Ian is almost hyperventilating. “Did you see this?”
He is waving the pages in front of Ed’s face.
“She has written total nonsense. It says here I’m walking along drunk on the main road when I stop to stare at oncoming lights. Since I think the lights belong to two bike riders, I do not move. And I don’t realize the oncoming lights are from a tram until it is almost too late. But before the tram can kill me, a crane lifting heavy metal poles onto a building site looses a pole, which lands on top of me.”
With an expressionless face, I look from Ed to Ian.
“What’s the problem? You’d rather be killed by the tram? There are no lines for you to remember, so it shouldn’t take too long to film this scene.”
Ed takes a step toward me.
“You know Ian is off-limits.”
I flinch, but only because Ed has an unpleasant mouth odor.
“You cannot threaten me anymore,” I say and take a step back. “I know your little secret, and in a minute, so will everyone else.”
A mixture of shock, disbelief, and horror reflects in Ed’s face. He looks at his phone.
“As much as I want to hear more of your little make-believe stories, I’ve got to take this.”
Not this time, sunshine. I reach for the stupid device and pull it out of his hand. The element of surprise is on my side.
“Not this time, Ed.”
I throw the phone in a wide arc across the room.
“Now that I have your full attention, let me tell you what I know. I know about your gambling debts. I know your sister is helping you out financially. If it weren’t for her, you’d be broke already. A gambling habit is rather expensive, isn’t it?” I pause, not because I want an answer, but more for dramatic effect.
“Now one wonders why your sister would help you out like that. What’s in it for her? She’s not doing it for fame. What is she doing it for?” I add.
I love this. It’s finally payback time. That little shit will be unlikely to get another acting job around here any time soon.
“But if one knows the family tree, it is not really hard to know why she’s doing it. She’s a mother, doing what any mother would do if her son had no talent. She’s giving you, her brother, money, and in return, you make sure Ian baby here works as an a actor at all costs.”
I glance at Ian. He seems to be fighting back the tears.
“And then, to make a little on the side, you sold information about me, Brad, and Scott to some bloggers so they could write trash about us.”
To my surprise, Ed does not try and refute what I’ve said. Instead, he goes over to where his phone landed, picks it up, and then leaves the set without another word.
Ian hovers on the same spot for a few more seconds before he, too, leaves.
Brad and Scott are still smiling. Brad is applauding.
Pride swells in me. I wish Angela could see me. Finally, I have stood up for what I believe in.
“Shouldn’t be too hard to film the killing scene, even if Ian does not come back,” announces Derrick, and I laugh.
Mr. Prong waves me over to him.
“Looks like the two of us need to meet and discuss the future of the show and you.”
Kayla
I smell the roses on my desk and buzz Lydia, the office junior, to bring a jug of water and glasses to my office.
As I wait, I admire the new painting hanging on the wall directly opposite my workspace. It arrived a few days ago.
Attached to it was a little note: From your greatest admirers.
Every time I look at it, I’m overcome with gratitude. How lucky am I to have such supportive people in my life?
The painting is of a boat tied to a pier. I love the blue of the ocean and the story the boat tells. Every time I’m stuck for ideas, I stare at the painting, and words start to flow again.
A knock on the door interrupts my thoughts.
“Come in,” I call.
“Hey, gorgeous.” Brad pokes his head through the door, closely followed by Scott.
“He’s not here yet?”
I shake my head.
“But he’s not due for another five minutes or so.”
Brad checks his watch.
“Told you there’s no need to rush.” He turns to Scott.
“But if we hadn’t rushed, we’d be late.”
I look from one to the other and back again, following their friendly banter, much like following a tennis match.
A polite cough from the door stops the conversation.
“I hope I’m not interrupting something?”
I leave my desk and walk to the door to greet Mr. Prong.
“On the contrary, Mr. Prong, we were just talking about you coming to the meeting.”
We all take a seat.
“I have to say, Kayla, I have been very impressed with your work.”
Straight to the point and no pleasantries—time’s money for this man as it is for me. Since Ed’s walkout and my expl
osive speech—that’s what Brad calls it—I’ve been bursting with creativity. The ideas and words pour onto the page.
“She’s an excellent writer,” adds Brad as if he needs to convince the head of the network to keep me on.
Butterflies multiply in the pit of my stomach, and a feeling of warmth hugs me. Power, control, love—they are awesome feelings.
“She’s that and other things,” Mr. Prong agrees.
I clear my throat. It is time to stay cool, calm, and collected, I remind myself.
“As I was saying, you’ve impressed me and the other members on the board. We’ve noticed a significant increase in ratings since you took control of the writing and got rid of that useless actor.”
Mr. Prong pauses. I notice his fingers twirl a pen through his hands.
“Thank you.” I bow my head a little, more to break the silence than anything else. I don’t have much experience in the world of business and negotiations, so I’m a little nervous.
True to my ballet teacher’s words, I involuntarily straighten up and instantly feel taller and calmer. Dance with confidence and no one will know if you are dancing the wrong moves.
“I have had our legal department draw up some paperwork,” Mr. Prong continues and puts a thick bundle of papers in front of me.”
He reaches into his briefcase a second time to pull out more papers. It looks intimidating.
“And these are for you.” He smiles at Brad and Scott as he hands them a slightly thinner bundle of papers. On second thought, it might not be thinner at all.
I randomly flick through the pages, and the words blur in front of my eyes.
“I don’t expect you to read through all of it now,” Mr. Prong says, and I look at him. “Today I want to focus on the key points of the contract, like the length of time. You will get plenty of opportunity to read though it and ask any questions later.”
“I see you have the length of the contract blank,” Brad says, and I find it is the same on mine.
“I thought we should do two years,” Mr. Prong says and leans back in his chair.
It’s my turn to play with my pen. Instead of engaging in acrobats with it, I unscrew its back and put it back on.
“Two years in this industry isn’t very long.” I glance at Scott and Brad.
Scott is holding up five fingers. My thoughts exactly.
“What did you have in mind?” Mr. Prong is polite in his question.
“I think it should be at least five years. This show isn’t one of those fly-by-night, five-minutes ones. It is here for the long haul.”
I hold my breath as I watch Mr. Prong scribble something on his contract.
“Done. Anything else?”
That was easy. Was it too easy? Do I need to be on guard?
I clear my throat.
“There’s a couple of other matters I would like to address now before we are too far down the track and it becomes too difficult to raise again.”
It is Mr. Prong’s turn to bow his head a little.
“I want full creative rights as head writer.”
I hold up my hand as I see Mr. Prong wants to say something.
“That does not mean I won’t consult with others on the team. I am a team player, very much so. But I don’t want to have happen what happened with Ed.”
I might have put too much emphasis on the words team player, but I want to get my point across.
Silence.
Eventually, Mr. Prong scribbles something on the page.
“Agreed. Anything else?”
I take a deep breath in. “I want you to give me the position of producer as well.”
“You?” Mr. Prong doesn’t hide his surprise. There may even be a hint of disapproval in his voice. “You have no experience as a producer, from what I recall.”
This might be harder than I thought.
I nod. No point disagreeing. If I’m going to sell myself, I need to be honest.
“You are right, I have never worked as a producer. But I have all the right qualities. I have an abundance of creativity.” I pause to think what else I need to add.
“I am able to lead a team of diverse people. My planning and organizational skills are exceptional, and I can work to a budget.”
If he doesn’t agree, I don’t know what else I can say.
To my surprise, Mr. Prong nods.
“Done.” He makes to stand.
“If you can, have signed contracts back to my assistant within the week. Let her know if you need any other changes included.”
When he’s gone, Scott comes over and picks me up to twirl me around once. Brad comes over and hugs me.
“You were awesome, gorgeous,” both say at the same time.
I grin from ear to ear. Boy, I feel good.
Brad takes my right hand and Scott my left. They both look me in the eyes.
“Baby,” Scott starts. “We just want you to know we think the world of you, and we’ll be with you every step of the way.”
Brad nods.
“The way you kick ass, I love it.” Brad kisses me on the cheek.
I feel tears well up—tears of happiness.
“Kayla,” they both say, and I look from one to the other. “We love you.”
I put my arms around both of them.
I lean forward, and Scott finds my mouth. He pushes his tongue past my lips and finds mine.
I feel Brad’s hands travel up my top and squeeze my breasts. My lips leave Scott’s and finds Brad’s.
I know how we’ll be celebrating for the rest of the day.
Kayla
I’ve been happy before, but I don’t think anything compares to what I’m feeling right now.
It all worked out. Everything seemed stacked against me – against us – but the stars aligned and we’ve made it.
And now here we are.
Just the three of us.
“Time to celebrate, boys,” I chuckle gently, looking from one to the other, my heart drumming wildly inside my chest. More than lust, there’s passion and love running through my veins. There’s happiness, there’s joy, and all the good things everyone deserves to have in their lives.
“A celebration, huh?” Scott whistles, coming up to me and resting his hands on my waist.
Grabbing me, he pulls me into him and crushes my mouth with his, his tongue parting my lips and wrestling against mine with a kind of unbridled fury. As he kisses me, he pushes me back against the wall, pinning me there. His arms go around my waist and he grabs me by the ass, his long fingers squeezing my cheeks as our lips remain locked together.
“I want you so fucking much,” I hear Brad say, and I open my eyes to meet his gaze. He’s leaning against the wall, right next to me, and his parted lips tell me that he’s waiting for his turn.
I don’t like to keep anyone waiting.
Pulling back from Scott, I throw one arm around Brad’s neck and pull him into me, my mouth hungrily looking for his. We lock lips, and I close my eyes again as we surrender to a passionate kiss, one brimming with lust and love.
When all this started out, I never thought I’d end up falling in love. But that was silly of me. How could I not fall in love with men like these? They’re perfect in every sense of the world – their bodies, their minds, their souls. Everything in them seems to have been designed to make me happy.
“You’re mine,” Scott whispers against my neck, kissing my soft skin and pulling it between his teeth.
“And mine,” Brad breathes against my lips, one of his hands grabbing at my breasts, my nipples hardening against the inside of my bra.
“And you,” I smile, pulling back from them and looking from one to the other, “are mine.”
“I couldn’t put it any better,” Brad grins, and with that he presses his body against mine. I can already feel his erection against my inner thigh, his cock like a wild animal that can smell its prey. Except in this case the prey wants to be devoured, and that as quickly as possible.
�
�Fuck me. Fuck me hard, and fuck me now,” I find myself saying, my forehead pressed against Brad’s as the words leave my lips.
“What? No foreplay?” Scott teases me, moving fast and sliding one hand under the hem of my dress. His fingers go straight to the wetness between my legs, and he presses the palm of his hand against my pussy. The moment he does it, a loud moan leaves my lips, the sound of voice blanketing whatever thoughts still floated inside my mind.
I open my mouth to reply to Scott, but I don’t find the words. I just moan again, and then again.
“I love the way you moan, Kayla,” Brad tells me, nibbling at my bottom. “I could hear you moan and scream all day long.”
“I agree,” Scott chuckles, and with that he grabs my thong and flicks it to the side. Without a moment’s hesitation, he slides his index finger inside me and curls it upward until it meets my G-spot.
The moment I feel the pressure in there, it’s as if my spine has turned into a column of fire. I feel my flesh burning, my eyes roll in their orbits, and I throw my head back against the wall.
“Fuck,” I hiss, my pussy tightening around his finger as I come.
Hell, this was fast.
“Someone’s ready,” I hear Brad say while Scott slides his finger out of my pussy.
My eyes are still closed, but I hear the sound of a belt coming undone, and a zipper being pushed down. Next thing I know, I feel a thick cock pressing against my inner lips, and I open my eyes just in time to see Brad grinning as he thrusts.
“OH GOD!” I moan again, throwing my arms over his shoulders as he drives all of his inches inside me. Needing more than to feel just one man, my right hands darts to Scott’s waist and I try to unbuckle his belt clumsily.
I manage to do it somehow, keeping my focus while Brad thrusts over and over again, and I push both his pants and boxers down. Scott’s cock springs free in a fraction of a second, slapping the back of my hand hard, and I just grab his shaft and start stroking him as hard as I can.
With one cock in my hand and the other inside my pussy, I finally close my eyes and throw my head back once more, simply savoring the moment. For someone that wasn’t that sure about threesomes, I think I’m doing pretty well.
