Role Play (Silhouette Studios)

by Katana Collins

  “Speaking of… how you feeling about today’s shoot? Marlena okay?”

  Jude shot me a wobbly smile. “I’m fine… a little worried about her. She’s nervous, but excited. She would never admit it, but she’s really relieved you’re keeping the crew small today.”

  I smiled. Marly and I had a rocky start. Mostly because I have a hot temper and a penchant for being over protective of my friends. But we’d come a long way. And now, she and I were like siblings. “As small as we can. Me, the cinematographer, boom and sound team, makeup, and wardrobe—and that’s it.”

  Jude nodded. “That’ll be great. She knows it’s coming and she said last night she was grateful to you that you’re getting these scenes out of the way early.”

  I studied my best friend—the way his lips were pressed into a tight line and the rigid sinew of muscle running down his clenched jaw to his throat. “You sure you’re okay with this? I know sharing isn’t easy for you.”

  Jude gave a humorless laugh and ran his hand through his hair. “Understatement of the year. But I’ll be fine. This is acting, not sharing. I knew what it meant to be in this movie with her.”

  I nodded, only half believing him. “I’ll make sure Kelly or Lucy is standing close by with her robe ready for any breaks between shooting.”

  We each left my office, turning different directions at the end of the hall. What would Lucy’s reaction be to this scene? The spanking, the submission—Holly’s character on her knees being ordered around by Leo and tied up.

  Each one of my footsteps down the hall landed heavily, my dress shoes hitting the marble floors with an assuredness I didn’t quite feel in my heart. But enough was enough. It was time to pull it together and get to work.

  Two hours in, and just about everything was going wrong. We were behind schedule—how does that happen every day, even so early in the process? I paced behind my chair, my name scripted with the word Director below it, taunting me like a group of mocking kids on a playground. Every time I moved to sit down, I just bounced right back up again like there was a spring surgically embedded in my ass. Just fucking call me Tigger for today—only not nearly as jolly.

  “Elena, how much longer do you need the actors in makeup?” She’d had them for ninety minutes… how long did it fucking take to slap some foundation and lipstick on two people?

  Okay, I knew better than to believe that’s all it took. But still—we weren’t doing fucking Avatar makeup here. It should be relatively simple.

  “You are not the only one aiming for Oscar nominations with this film, Ash,” Elena snapped back to me through the headset. “And you know as well as anyone that rushing the makeup is not the best way to stay on schedule.”

  My skin was rough beneath my palms as I rubbed my brow. “Please, just hurry up. You don’t have to rush… but also, don’t be leisurely.”

  “Leisurely is just a nice way of saying lazy. And I am not lazy.”

  I cut off my talk button and sighed.

  “Boss,” Ben said from behind me. "We need to get the lighting adjusted, and the stand-ins never showed up this morning.”

  “What?” I snarled, spinning to face Ben. Involuntarily, my hands clenched at my sides. The air felt stale as I inhaled deeply, relaxing my balled fists. “No one told me this.”

  Ben shrugged. “We were just hoping they were late.”

  “They’re both no-shows?” That was unusual. Especially in this business. People worked their whole lives to get gigs on a large studio film crew—even a small gig like the stand-in. It’s rare for one person to be a no-show, let alone two.

  Little flicking movements caught my eye as Ben tapped his fingers nervously against his clipboard. Sweat dotted his forehead and upper lip, and I narrowed my eyes. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  Ben sighed. “Someone on crew fucked up. Sent the stand-ins to the wrong sound stage in Burbank instead of here.”

  A fireball of anger seared from my chest up my throat. Only, instead of bursting into a fiery explosion, I kept it inside, feeling my face heat. My lips tightened and tensed as I spoke through my clenched jaw. “That’s a pretty big fuck-up.”

  “Yep.”

  “And you’re protecting whoever this is?”

  Ben shrugged, his clipboard hitting the outside of his thigh with a slap. “It was one mistake. In the meantime, I need two people from the crew who look closest to Marly and Jude to get the lighting right.”

  “Fine. Go.”

  But Ben didn’t move. He stood there, his eyebrows arching, eyes alight as though he were waiting for me to realize… “Well we found a Marlena stand-in already. But Neil isn't here today because of the closed set, so we have no one to stand in for Jude. We were thinking you—”

  The burning in my chest and face escalated as it spread wider across my cheeks and neck. I was pretty sure my face looked like a damn apple by this point. “You’re fucking kidding, right? Me?”

  Ben put both hands up, calloused palms facing out. “We can wait for Jude to be out of makeup first, if you prefer. I’m sure he won’t mind standing in for himself today. But who knows how long Elena will be. It'll just set us back longer. And you’re the closest person here to Jude's height and coloring.”

  I rolled my eyes and tugged the headset from my ears. “Fine, let’s get this over with. Whatever gets us moving and makes it so we’re not here until two in the morning.” I’m nothing if not a team player. And if this shit got my movie back on schedule, I’d do it.

  “We couldn’t find anyone that fit Marly, so we chose the best we could with the limited crew that’s here. temporary stand-in is a good match. At least she has the freckles. Her hair was all wrong but they found a wig for her in the wardrobe department—”

  “It’s fine, Ben. As long as she’s comfortable with doing this. Let’s just get it over with,” I said, pinching the bridge of my nose. Then, looking up, I shouted with a booming voice. “Everyone out except Ben and Erik.”

  Ben nodded and yelled to the room, “You heard him. Everyone out!”

  Even though there were only a handful of people there, I didn’t want anyone seeing me as less of an authority because of this. The fewer people present, the better. Four of the other crew members shuffled out of the room and shut the door behind themselves.

  Turning back to my cinematographer, I added, “Other than you and Erik, no one sees this. Understood?”

  Ben nodded. “Of course. And Lucy.”

  I froze. “Lucy?”

  Ben pointed haphazardly to the dimly lit set where a girl in a red wig was sitting. “Yeah, the costume assistant. Closest height and coloring to Marlena. Kelly and Elena were too tall. And they don’t have her freckles.”

  “Of fucking course,” I whispered. My fingers had gone numb, and I curled my toes inside my shoes.

  “Let’s start with you two on the bed,” Ben said, guiding me to the middle of the set. It consisted of a minimalist designed bedroom with soft lighting. Because of course the one time the stand-ins don’t show, and I have to fill in, it’s the fucking sex scene.

  A rush of energy flooded around me as I looked once more at Lucy. The room filled with a dense intensity, like a thick fog that swept in with the morning tide. Her dark brown eyes glittered under the heated lights of the set. The red wig she wore to match Marlena’s hair fell in soft waves around her shoulders, and though she looked great as a redhead, I missed her rich brown hair. Covering her generous curves, she wore a flesh-colored sports bra, Lycra boyshorts… and nothing else.

  Ho-ly shit.

  Twitchy and unable to sit still, she kept shifting her weight like a scrap of paper being blown around on a gusty day, crossing her arms over her flat stomach. I couldn’t help but wonder what color her skin would flush if I touched her, if I brushed my knuckles down her back or took my hand to her ass. Would it ripen into a peachy shade? Or more mauve beneath my palm? Her wide, brown eyes lifted, seeing me—and her face flushed. The blush spread over the bridge of her nose
and without even touching her, I got my answer. Coral. She flushed coral. When she swallowed, the corded muscles at her svelte neck tightened and gooseflesh pebbled on every inch of her very exposed skin.

  “Ash?” Ben said, tearing me out of my stare. “Did you hear me? I need your shirt off. Pants can, um, stay on unless we’re having lighting issues… then we may need—”

  “My pants will stay the fuck on no matter what,” I growled. It came across a hell of a lot more vicious than I intended, but there was no way I would be standing in with Lucy half-naked and not get an erection that would put the Eiffel Tower to shame.

  I muttered a curse beneath my breath, thankful for small blessings as I unbuttoned my shirt and shrugged the starched cotton off my body. In doing so, I suppressed the prodding discomfort that gnawed at my gut. The air conditioning kicked on, and with it, a gush of cold air danced over my bare shoulders. Every inch of my skin tightened and an uncomfortable laugh slipped through my tight lips as I walked toward the bed in slow, confident strides.

  Lucy’s tongue darted out, swiping across her lips, leaving her mouth wet and parted. It was the reaction I lived for when stripping in front of a woman the first time. The first moments of seeing each other—the excitement, the exploration, and the realization that the person is even more than you thought they would be. It’s fucking incredible. Better than a hit of cocaine.

  “Ash,” Ben said, the hesitation in his voice barely noticeable. “I need you lying down. And for the first shot, Lucy, could you… um, be on top of him?”

  Lucy nodded, her eyes meeting mine. Awareness tripped a switch in my chest, and I could hear every thrumming beat of her heart; feel every exhalation of breath she released as though I were breathing her into my own lungs. “You okay?” I whispered.

  She nodded, but as she swallowed, I saw the lump travel down her neck. “I’m fine.”

  I sat carefully on the bed and slid onto my back. With her arm outstretched, she reached across my torso climbing over me like a wildcat trying to cross a river without touching a drop of water. She sat up on her knees, vertical to my horizontal.

  “Um, Lucy…” Ben said, “I meant lying on top of him.”

  “Of course you did,” she muttered. Then, falling over me, her palms landed on either side of my face. Her breasts hung between us as she dipped closer; despite the fabric of the sports bra, her tight nipples brushed against my chest. A groan flew past my lips before I could stop it and Lucy’s gaze jerked to mine. She lifted a brow. “That painful, huh?”

  “Hardly,” I grunted.

  She ducked her face to hide her smirk, but I saw it all the same.

  “Ash, I need your hands on her hips,” Ben said.

  My touch was gentle, but my muscles were hard as a rock. Tensed and tight as I moved slowly and carefully, draping my palms over the bare skin at her waist. My fingers blanketed across the curve, nestling against it as though my hand was made to touch her body. As though I was made to touch her body.

  A sharp breath tightened her pouty lips and expanded her chest, bringing those full breasts even closer to my mouth. My parched mouth. All it would take was a couple inches and the flick of my tongue to feel the outline of that nipple pressing against the binding of her sports bra. My fingers tightened against her hips.

  "Are you okay?" I asked.

  She nodded, the movement jerky. She’s lying.

  "Are you sure?" I pressed. "Because you don’t have to do this. This is not part of your contract. This is not part of your job description." I slanted my eyes toward Ben, an instinct to protect rising from my gut, up my throat, in a line of burning fire. “And if Ben told you otherwise, then he—”

  “No,” Lucy answered quickly, her head still shaking, but a more controlled movement than before. More assertive. She meant it this time. “He didn't force me to do this. I'm here because, like everyone else on set today, I want to stay on schedule.”

  I studied her above me. For all of a moment, she stared into my eyes. But when that bit of fortitude melted, she shrank away from the eye contact; her gaze drifting to the corner of the bed; her fingers fidgeting with the rumpled sheets, wrinkled by the heavy weight of my body.

  Ben didn't force her to be here half-naked, tits suspended in my face like a carrot being dangled before a rabbit. But she also wasn't here of her own free will. That was for certain.

  "She and Kelly had the closest coloring to Marlena," Ben said. "Even though Kelly was too tall, we asked her first. She said she was too busy, so Lucy agreed instead."

  A smile twisted along Lucy lips for the briefest moment, and then in a flash it was gone. “Kelly's going to shit her pants when she realizes who the other stand-in was,” Lucy whispered.

  “Or she's going to have you handling the dry-cleaning every day for the next three months,” I responded.

  “She has me doing that anyway.” With Lucy's chuckle, her body bounced. Kneeling over me as she was, she relaxed, her silky thighs flanking either side of my hips. With her giggle, she sat back a little more. Her laugh morphed into a breathy gasp as her pussy pressed against my growing erection.

  Gripping her hips tighter, I groaned and lowered my voice so Ben couldn’t hear me. “Legally, I’m supposed to remove myself from a situation like this if I get aroused.” I moved to sit up.

  Her hands on my shoulders squeezed tighter. “Don’t,” she said breathless. One word. One plea.

  “Don’t?” I repeated, and her cheeks flushed pink as she looked away.

  “I mean… it’s fine. Don’t do that on my account.”

  Beside us, Ben turned on some lights, pointing them toward the bed. One light had blue filters covering the cool glow, mimicking the look of the moon. The light spilled over her body, illuminating her pale skin with an iridescent glow, like marble.

  Ben circled the bed, giving a sigh. "Well, this lighting certainly emphasizes her curves. But Marlena is slimmer, so it should be fine.”

  Ben's retreating footsteps thundered in my ears. Lucy’s smile dropped, as did her gaze, jet-black eyelashes curving against the flush of her cheek. Against my better judgment, I lifted my hand, gently brushing my fingers over the light spray of freckles at her cheekbone. “Ben’s a dick. Your curves are gorgeous.”

  Damn it all if her breath didn’t catch. If her eyes didn’t jerk to mine. And if her teeth didn’t bite down on that bottom lip. Dragging my fingers down her face, I pinched her chin, freeing her lip from the shackles of those teeth. Beneath my hand on her hip, I felt her muscles tense. Her body jerked over mine, sliding her sex against my cock.

  Angst and doubt radiated out of her. Every breath, every glance, every movement that showed her uncertainty chipped away at my resolve. I could help her. This movie could help her. She was more like Holly than I realized before. She was Holly.

  I had to experiment. I had to try something in the safety here, where it looked like we were supposed to be doing this. "Lucy," I said, my voice quiet but firm. Commanding. "Is that your full name?"

  She shook her head. "It's short for Luciana."

  "Luciana," I breathed her name like it could give me life. Like it was air itself. "That's a beautiful name."

  “It’s from my father’s side of the family. He’s half-Italian, half-Mexican,” she said, continuing to look at the bed as though it fascinated her. She chuckled softly. “I debated changing my name after he left us, but my mom wouldn’t allow it when I was younger.”

  “And when you were eighteen?” I asked, wanting to know more. Wanting to know… everything.

  She brought one delicate shoulder to her ear. “By the time I turned eighteen, it was… I don’t know, more my name than his by that point. I had lived with it for so long, it didn’t feel like it was a part of my father anymore. It felt like… me.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t change it. It’s a beautiful name.”

  She continued casting her eyes down at the edge of the bed. Refusing to make eye contact with me. I swallowed hard and in a quiet,
but authoritative voice, I demanded, “Look at me, Luciana.” I didn't need a booming voice. I didn't need a paddle. All I needed was myself. My dominance. That was what this was about. The other toys were just that—toys. Tools and games, things to make the experience fun and escalated. But this? This communication between two opposite types of people; both who wanted the same thing in two very different ways. The connection that came between opposing sides of magnets and the inexplicable draw they had toward one another—that’s what this lifestyle was. It’s what I had to show Lucy.

  Her brown eyes lifted to me. Wild and bewildered, I was certain she didn’t know why she listened. Why she obeyed—but the fact that she did was what mattered. The driving need to please me. I’d seen it before in so many subs and yet none of them called to me like she did. None of them stabbed at my heart and pulled my soul like she did.

  Except for one. Brie.

  I swallowed the icy pain, ignoring it for now. “Don’t stop looking at me,” I said. Then, from where my hand still cupped her jaw, I dragged it down her body. Over the taut lines at her neck. Across the sinews of her shoulder. Down the soft, lush curve of her breast. My fingers played her ribs, strumming gently over them like guitar strings, until my palm landed back on her hip. Her breath, shallow and hot, hit my face. Her once wet lips were now dry from where they were parted with each breath.

  But those eyes—they remained fastened onto mine. Just as I had demanded.

  I squeezed her hips harder than was appropriate, but not enough to truly hurt her. She whimpered, eyes fluttering closed for a fraction of a second before they jolted open again, latching back onto mine. Like she knew that flutter of her eyes was disobeying my order to look at me. Good girl.

  I pushed my hips up, my cock so hard it was painful. “Touch me,” I ordered, my voice urgent despite the whisper.

  Her eyes widened and her gaze jerked between our legs where my erection pressed into her soft folds. I chuckled, the noise raspy and deep. “Not there. Touch my arms.”