by Breena Wilde
She shrugs, but I sense she’s nervous. “Fine.”
“Nigel?” I ask, turning into the blaring lights. I raise a hand over my eyes, searching the crowd for him. He’s sitting on the edge of his seat. A huge grin twists his greasy face unnaturally. “Do you have a problem with us going through the scene?”
“Hell no.” He clears his throat. “If it’ll help Scarlett feel more comfortable, then by all means.”
“Good.” I face Scarlett.
Nigel yells, “Action!”
I read from the script Cruze’s first line. “Don’t be mad, baby. It’s just part of my job.”
Scarlett gives me a strange look. “I’m allowed to be mad, you son-of-a-bitch. The portal is open. It’s going to remain open. Why didn’t you listen?” She gets misty-eyed, and I’m impressed.
It says that my face softens and I move toward her. “I know. You’re right. I’m sorry.” The script says I’m to grab her around the waist and pull her close. The script reads that I’m supposed to kiss her with passion. Scarlett and I are the same height in our heels. “Really sorry,” I say, and kiss her.
Scarlett takes a deep breath, surprised. I’ll admit I’m surprised too. I’ve never kissed another woman. Her lips are soft, but sticky. She’s wearing a lot of lipstick and gloss. I open her mouth and meet her tongue. I feel her hands go around my waist. Our mouths move together. I count to ten and then release her.
Scarlett’s eyes are soft.
“Make love to me. I need you,” I say, following the lines on the script. We’re supposed to go over to the bed and undress each other. It’s supposed to be desperate. The world is ending soon, but they have to have this moment first. Also, after they fuck, Cruze’s character realizes how he can close the portal and save the world.
Frankly I don’t want to get naked in front of the entire crew, but I’m not going to stop if she isn’t.
I pull Scarlett over to the bed and start to undo the buttons on the front of her dress. She moves to undo my belt and then laughs. “I can’t do this.” She looks at the light where Nigel is sitting. “Her face is covered in my red lipstick.”
“Cut,” Nigel yells, even though the cameras weren’t even rolling.
I yank on Scarlett, forcing her to look at me. “It isn’t the dialogue, it’s that you’re uncomfortable,” I whisper.
She has a look on her face, like she’s about to deny it. Instead she leans in and kisses my ear. “Would you want to get naked and pretend fuck in front of all these people?”
I kiss her neck and my hands move up and down her back. “Definitely not. You need a closed set.”
She plants kisses along my jawline until she reaches my chin. Her features are filled with gratitude. “Can you make that happen?”
“Of course,” I respond and step out of her embrace.
While the crew sets up the scene for a closed set, I find Mindy. “Help,” I say when I see her.
She laughs. “You’re covered in red lipstick. Sit.” She uses a round makeup pad and gently rubs the lipstick off my face and neck. “The pearls are beautiful,” she says.
“Thanks, they’re a gift.” My eyes are closed and I’m grateful. I don’t want to have to go into an explanation.
“From Cruze?” she asks.
“No.”
“Good.”
I open my eyes and study her features. “Why good?”
She shakes her head. “I can tell you’re a strong woman. If you have feelings for Mr. Cruze, I’ve got nothing to say about it.” She shrugs. “There’s someone for everyone, right?” Her smile is sad.
“Sure,” I agree, seeing an opportunity to change the subject. “Did you and Lincoln have fun on your date?”
She seems pleasantly surprised that I’m asking. “It was incredible. Like…” She trails off and fans herself. “I’m a changed girl after spending an evening with that man.”
I watch Mindy’s face and have so many questions. I’ve always been curious about the man who does everything Zane says without the slightest variance, yet he seems to have a big heart. What kinds of hobbies does a man like him have? I can’t imagine him sitting in front of a TV drinking a beer, but he must have down time.
“I thought he enjoyed himself too, but…” She stops and swallows. Tears line her lashes. “I haven’t heard from him in over a month. Like nothing.”
I shake my head. “Men can be such assholes,” I say, trying to console her.
It seems to help. She laughs. “You got that right.” Mindy applies some lotion to my face. “Thanks Cadence. I feel better.” She laughs again. “I mean not really, but I appreciate you trying to help.”
“No problem,” I say, wishing I could do more.
Scarlett comes over. “Mindy, fix my make—” She stops. “I mean, would you mind touching up my makeup?” she asks.
Holy fuck. There may be hope for Scarlett after all.
Mindy looks at me.
I shrug. “Go ahead. Thanks, Mindy.” I get off the chair.
On my way over to the set, Cruze grabs my hand. “Hey Cade. Can we talk?”
I don’t know why but my stomach tenses. “Sure,” I say, pulling my hand from his. “What’s up?”
Cruze looks frustrated. “I just want to apologize for earlier. I don’t know what I was thinking. Of course you need time to yourself. I respect that.” He runs a hand through his hair.
“Thanks, Cruze. I appreciate your understanding. It means a lot.” My fingers find the pearls around my neck.
“Do you think we could have dinner tonight? I’ll order room service. I know how much you love their bleu-cheese steak and twice baked potatoes.” He smiles sweetly. “We could watch a movie or something.”
“That sounds wonderful, Cruze, but I can’t tonight. I’ve already made other plans.” A total lie. I don’t have any plans, but I do want some time away from him.
His face falls and, for a moment, I feel really bad. I reach out and touch his hand. “My birthday is this Friday night. The big two one,” I say in mock excitement. “Jessica is throwing a party that’s supposed to go down in the history books. I’d love it if you could come.” That will give me three full days of man free drama.
His face lights up at that. “I’d love to. And you’re going to be twenty-one? I had no idea you were such a baby.”
I shrug. It’s true. I haven’t really thought about age. Not mine. Not his. Not even Zane’s. And I wonder how old he is. I’d guess early to mid thirties, but he might be older. “Yeah, well, how old are you? Not much older than me, I’m sure.”
John clears his throat, leans in, and whispers: “I’m thirty.”
“No fucking way,” I say. I’m shocked. He looks really young.
“Yeah, tell no one.” He uses his first finger and thumb to pretend lock his lips and then tosses away an imaginary key. “It’s a secret.”
“My lips are sealed,” I say.
“John Cruze and Scarlett. You’re wanted on set.” The voice booms over a loud speaker.
“I’d better go,” he says.
“Yep.”
“You’ll give me the details once you know about your party?” He reaches out and touches a piece of my hair. His eyes are sad. I almost lose my resolve to have me time.
It’s important. I know I need this, so I suck in a deep breath. “Of course.”
“Cool,” he says and walks away.
I don’t know if I can do this. I’ve spent the last two weeks straight with Cadence. She says she needs time, but all I can think is that she wants to be with him—Zane. That somehow that twisted asshole has tainted her, made her into to something she isn’t.
My mind keeps telling me she’s a prostitute, but when I look at her that isn’t what I see. Instead I see a beautiful, intelligent woman who’s fought to survive and come out on top.
That’s who she is to me. Why can’t she see that? I wish I knew what to do, how to make her see that she’s all I want, all I could ever need, that I would love he
r and adore her. I would be all she ever wants or needs.
“Mr. Cruze, they’re ready for you,” Mindy says.
“Thank you.” I follow Mindy to the set. Scarlett is there. The set is closed so only the director, a couple of assistants, and the camera crew are there. Much different. In my opinion more intimate.
I walk over to Scarlett. “Is this going to be better? Was that the problem? Having too many people watch?”
“I like this better. If we’re going to be real on set I need to know we don’t have dozens of eyes watching us.” She smiles and runs her hands down my chest. “I like the way you make me feel on set.” She stands up on her tiptoes. “I like you, John Cruze.”
I allow her talk. It helps get me in the zone for the cameras. “I like you too, Scar.”
“Positions, please,” Nigel yells.
We break apart.
The guy with the clapboard does his thing.
Nigel yells, “Action!”
Scarlett is everything to me. She’s all I want.
The scene goes off without a hitch. Scarlett actually does a great job. I’m impressed. I’m also horny. I need to fuck.
Scarlett senses my needs, or she can see that I’m still hard.
“You want to get out of here? We can go back to my place and have a drink.” She’s wearing her street clothes—a pair of tight skinny jeans and a low cut shirt. Her hair is brushed out of all the hairspray and her face is clean of makeup. She’s actually a very pretty girl.
I really don’t want to be a part of whatever’s been inside Scarlett, but I shrug. Cadence and I are on a break. “Sure,” I say, and drape my arm across her shoulder. I have condoms in my wallet.
Scarlett gloats. She looks like the cat who just ate the beautiful and delicious bird. She’s more than pleased with herself. I have a moment’s pause and worry about whether my leaving with Scarlett will get back to Cadence.
It might be good. Women always want what they can’t have. If she sees another woman with me, maybe it’ll help her realize that I’m a good guy. She and I belong together.
In the limo I have vodka on the rocks. Scarlett has a glass of wine. By the time the limo hits the freeway her tongue is down my throat. I can’t help but compare her to Cadence.
Scarlett acts like a bitch who knows what she wants, but she’s actually very insecure. She awkwardly unbuttons my shirt. I let her take the lead, but she isn’t sure what to do.
Finally I push her away. “Are you sure you want this? Or are you trying to get back at Cadence?”
She undoes her bra, kicks off her shoes, and slides off her pants so all she has on is her shirt and black panties. “Does it matter?” she asks.
I pull off my belt and undo my pants. I’m hard, ready to fuck. “Not really,” I say, pulling out a condom.
“You don’t need to wear one of those. I know guys prefer to fuck without them.” She gets on her knees and moves so that she’s in front of me.
“No, I prefer them.”
Her features turn sad. “You didn’t used to.”
I shrug. “Well I do now.”
“Fine,” she says, and waits while I roll the condom on.
When it’s in place she climbs on. I pull off her shirt so I can see her tits. They’re fake, which I’ve always liked. But now that I’ve been with Cadence, they aren’t doing it for me. “Turn around and bend over,” I say, kissing her.
She gives me a strange look. “You have changed. Probably the whore,” she says and turns, sticking her ass in my face.
I slap it and she turns back. “Really?”
“Ever been fucked in the ass?” I ask her.
“Sure,” she says, “but I have to be really turned on. I’m not there yet.” The look on her face says I’m not doing it for her.
But I want her there. I want to fuck her in the ass. The memory of fucking Cadence is still fresh in my mind. I want to do it again. I want to know if it’s just Cade’s ass I like or if I have a lot of making up to do. “Tell me what you want, Scar.” I massage the ass cheek I just slapped. My handprint is there. I like the way it looks, and I can’t help but notice Scarlett’s ass is flatter. She doesn’t really have one, where Cadence has two glorious cheeks, perfect for spanking.
She sighs. “I want a shot.”
“Okay.” I pour her one. She shoots it down. I pour myself one. Drink it. When the cameras are rolling this woman is everything to me. She said she likes the way I act when we’re on set. So I pretend the cameras are rolling.
“Come here.”
She complies, climbing on my lap. I wrap my hands around her neck. She’s soft, and I notice she smells like clove cigarettes and vanilla. I’d forgotten she likes to smoke once in a while. Her mouth tastes like vodka. I plunge my tongue into her mouth. She lets out a mew.
I continue to kiss her, allowing my hands to wander down to her nipples. I take them between my fingers and squeeze lightly. She moans into my mouth and her hips start to rock into me. I release her mouth and smile, that killer smile that gets me all my jobs. I bite my lower lip and lick my thumb.
“Yeah, baby. That’s what I like.” She lifts her hips and slides down on top of my hardened cock. I rub her clit with my wet thumb, rubbing slowly. She moans again, squeezing my thighs between her legs. She speeds up and I follow suit on her clit. “Oh. Oh. Oh. That’s it. Right there.” Her eyes are closed and her head is tipped back. I lift her off me. She opens her eyes. “You want to stick you dick in my ass, don’t you, Johnny boy?”
I hate when anyone calls me that, but I just nod. As soon as she turns around, I can close my eyes and pretend I’m fucking Cadence. “Yes, baby. Yes, I do.”
“Okay.” She turns and lays the top half of her body against the seat on the other side of us. I kneel down behind her. I spread her ass. One hand is massaging her pussy and the other is clinging to the end of the seat.
“We don’t have to do this,” I say. “If it hurts, tell me and we can stop.”
She nods her head.
I carefully push my dick into the opening.
She gasps. Opens her eyes. “You want to fuck my ass, don’t you baby?”
I slide in a little farther. Her eyes have a wild look about them. “Yes, Scar, I want to fuck you in the ass.”
She massages her clit harder and presses her ass further onto me. “Oh, God,” she whispers. “Fuck my ass. Fuck it. Fuck it.” She shakes her head back and forth and I know she’s close to an orgasm.
I thrust all the way in.
Scarlett shudders. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” She leans up and pinches one of her nipples, rubbing her clit harder. “Fuck, I’m going to come.”
I grab her hips and ease out slowly and then push into her again.
“Oh, fuck me. Fuck my ass, baby. Fuck it.” She’s in a frenzy, over the top. But it still has me going. It’s obvious she’s feeling it, enjoying it. That’s what matters.
Scarlett definitely feels different than Cadence. That much is certain, but Scar’s ass is tight. So fucking tight. Tighter than Cade’s is, even. And I like it.
My orgasm builds quickly. I push into her over and over.
“I’m coming. Oh fuck, Cruze. I’m coming so hard.” I watch her body convulse with the strength of her orgasm.
Mine comes quickly after.
She’s breathing heavily. So am I.
I slowly pull out, throw away the condom, and button my pants. Scarlett gets dressed. She’s quiet. This is when she needs the most reassurance. I know this. She gingerly sits on the seat across from me and pours herself another shot. I put a hand on her knee and give her a truth.
“Your ass is superb.” I squeeze her bony knee. “Should we get some dinner?” I ask.
Her face lights up. “I’d like that.”
I stop at the cemetery on my way home and lay some flowers across Travis’s grave. There’s nothing to say. It is what it is.
By the time I reach home, I’m exhausted. Rita is gone. She’s left a note that my dinner is
warming in the oven. It’s lasagna, and it’s beyond delicious. I eat every last bite and scrape the plate clean.
Then I slide off my shoes, pour myself a glass of wine, and take myself upstairs to the bathroom. I turn on the water. In a basket above the tub is an assortment of what’s called bath bombs. They’re large and circular. One smells like coconut. I open it and drop it into the water. It fizzles and makes the air in the bathroom smell like a tropical getaway.
I run downstairs, grab the entire bottle of red wine, dash back upstairs, get naked, and climb in the tub. The warm water soothes and relaxes. I don’t normally do baths but, as I sink my body all the way under the yummy smelling water, I decide I need to change that.
After an hour in the tub my skin is wrinkled like a green raisin. I climb out and wrap myself in a robe. I left my phone downstairs so I go to retrieve it. There’s a text from Jessica.
Call me. Urgent.
The way my body feels, so relaxed—there’s no way anything can be that pressing. I don’t want to call her. I don’t want to talk to anyone. These next three days are supposed to be about me.
I know she probably has a question about the party, but I also know she can handle it. Whatever she decides about my party will be fine. I’ll love it. It’ll be a ton of fun. So I turn off my phone and walk into the living room, fall back on the couch, flip on the TV, and watch old reruns of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
At midnight I climb upstairs and get into bed. I don’t even set my alarm.
That’s how the next three days go. Work. Visit the cemetery. Go home and relax. I don’t see Rita those three days either. She leaves me food and sweet notes, but that’s it.
Almost as though she can sense my need for privacy.
Jessica has called many times and left me several messages. I haven’t checked them.
The strangest thing about the three days is that Cruze doesn’t call. He doesn’t even stop by the office. I’m surprised.
Thursday night after I arrive home I turn on the stereo, pull my food out of the oven—Parmesan chicken—pour a glass of white wine, and eat.
