by ML Michaels
With these words he leaned in to touch his full soft lips to hers. His kiss gentle but coaxing as his mouth fluttered over hers like a lacy winged butterfly.
“Something that will remake us the way we used to be,” he whispered, adding in a coaxing tone, “Admit it, Claire. You and I were magic together.”
He cringed as she broke away.
“We were,” she admitted, “but people grow and things change. And I need you to take me back to my car now because I need to go home.”
***
Opening night arrived in grand fashion for the Genoa Players, and in frenetic, near frenzied fashion for the addled playhouse director.
Standing at the center of a barely organized melee that filled the backstage area, Claire Vincent supervised the last minute line readings, the costume fittings and fixes, and the impromptu nerve attacks that afflicted several cast members.
“You’ll be fine,” she told them with a gentle smile. “You’re doing a great job, just show the audience what you showed me during our rehearsals, and you’re sure to shine out there. Trust me on this.”
Finally, she sought refuge in the tiny corner office that distinguished the compact, darkened backstage area of the Genoa Playhouse where she sank down in her cushioned swiveling chair and took a deep, sustaining breath.
She caught that same breath moments later, as a pair of firm strong hands buried themselves in her tension wrought shoulders, their magical fingertips kneading and working her joints and muscles as she sighed deep in a show of relief.
“You’ll be fine,” she heard her words repeated back to her in a soft, gentle whisper. You’re going to shine out there. Trust me on this.”
Smiling in spite of herself, Claire raised her head and opened her eyes to regard the smiling face of her loving, nurturing masseur who now teased her lips with a soft, sweet kiss.
“How are ya doin’, Kid?” Shawn asked, his agile fingers continuing to work magic on her sturdy, tension wrought shoulders.
“Better now,” Claire said, relaxing in her chair as she continued on the wings of a tender sigh, “I swear, Shawn, you always knew how to make opening night just a bit more bearable.”
His answering chuckle, a deep sonorous sound that she knew and loved all too well, sent a rain of sweet tingles careening down her spine.
“Well I certainly hope that I made life in general a bit more bearable for you, Claire, because that’s certainly what you did for me,” he revealed. “You always built me up and praised my skills while also giving me helpful advice that I still use to this day. And off stage, Claire, we were even better together, talking endlessly and sharing secret jokes, dreaming and planning our futures together while we savored every moment of the present.” He paused here, adding as he whispered low and sultry, “And when we kissed and held each other, well it was almost like we were meant to be together. When we made love, Claire….”
He cringed as his lady once again broke away from him, and her back went rigid as she turned without a word in the direction of her plain, basic wooden desk.
“Claire, what’s wrong?” he pressed her, raising his hands in a gesture of confusion as he added, “You’ve got to tell me, because at this point I’m simply at a loss. We had a beautiful, unforgettable night together. One that, or so I thought, was the start of something special—something that just might last. You apparently didn’t feel the same way, because—immediately after our night together—you stopped answering my texts and calls. Tell me, Claire. Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you?”
Claire shook her head.
“The night was beautiful, Shawn. In no way did you hurt me—quite the contrary, you made me feel fantastic,” she affirmed, adding as she shook her head from side to side, “It just—complicated things, that’s all.”
Shawn nodded, letting loose with a deep sustaining breath that seemed to release with it years’ worth of worry and uncertainty.
“Well, now that I know that I didn’t hurt or offend you that night, at least I can move on—we can move on,” he revealed, adding in a brighter tone, “And with that in mind, I insist that you be my date for the opening night after party tomorrow evening, which I just happen to know begins at 8 p.m. sharp tomorrow at Flanagan’s Bistro.”
Claire started.
“How did you know about the after party?” she asked, adding with a shrug, “It’s for cast and crew only.”
“As well as their friends and family,” Shawn reminded her, adding with a bright smile, “And as it happens, my sister just handed me a VIP invite to the festivities.”
Claire rolled her eyes.
“Charlotte. Bless her heart,” she said under her breath, adding more loudly, “Fine then, Shawn. I’ll be your date for the after party.”
***
The tolling of the midnight hour found a restless Claire ensconced in the sheets of her basic camp bed, which formed a far corner of the modest two-bedroom apartment she shared with her daughter April.
Although she rejoiced at the resounding success of her opening night performance of “Romeo and Juliet”—one that had earned a standing ovation from the gathered crowd—she still found her thoughts and feelings consumed by Shawn, who had insisted on sitting by her side for every moment of the show.
“How am I supposed to concentrate on my job when Romeo himself is sitting right beside me?” she mused aloud, tossing and turning in the sheets beneath her. “Reciting some of the play’s most romantic lines directly in my ear?”
She still could hear Shawn’s deep sonorous voice calling the name of her heroine, repeating the classic name that represented love in melodic, sexy tones that threatened to drive her insane.
“Juliet! Juliet!”
Even now his voice rang loud and clear in the realm of Claire’s senses.
Too loud and clear, in point of fact, sounding impossibly real.
Jumping to her feet as an intrusive voice flew freely through the halls of her apartment, a wide-eyed Claire rushed with frenzied feet toward the source of the disturbing sound.
Soon she found herself standing at the center of her own balcony looking down at a Romeo whose bronzed beauty seemed to glow in the light of the moon above them.
“Fair Juliet!” Shawn, dressed this evening in a tight black shirt and a skin tight pair of sculpting blue jeans, looked up at her with adoring eyes as he thrust his arms upward. “Your Romeo is here.”
Feeling her cheeks blush scarlet red at this unexpected news, Claire shook her head briskly from side to side as she demanded, “Stop this madness at once, Shawn. If you have something to say to me, then come up here and say it—before you wake up all of my neighbors.”
Shawn shrugged.
“Can do!” he assented, throwing his tall hard-planed body in a single smooth flourish onto a vine of thick ivy that lined the front wall of her two story complex. She watched in shock as he launched his body into a sleek ascent that sent him crawling like a spider up the side of her building.
“When I invited you to come up and see me,” she bellowed out, clutching her head in two frantic hands, “I was kinda hoping you’d opt for the elevator?”
Yet she couldn’t help but admire the agile, graceful manner in which her gentleman caller canvassed the front of the building then jumped in a single graceful move over the side of her balcony.
“Now what’s so romantic about a dingy ol’ elevator?” Shawn asked her, adding in a tone of whisper soft seduction, “Tonight, Claire, I want only to be your Romeo. On this night, I want you to feel like Juliet—adored, worshipped, and endlessly desired.”
Claire sighed.
“Yeah, well, there’s just one problem with that,” she informed him, adding as she planted her hands firm on her hips, “There’s one substantial obstacle that stands in the way of me indulging in a night of reckless passion with my fantasy Romeo.”
As if on cue, a loud, shrill cry erupted from the nursery that formed a far corner of Claire’s apartment and sent her running
headfirst from the balcony as Shawn looked on with disbelieving eyes.
These same eyes flew even wider moments later, as a sheepish Claire reappeared on the balcony with child in hand.
“Shawn,” she said, adding with a proud nod in the direction of her beautiful toddler, “Meet April.”
Smiling immediately at the sight of the gurgling, now content toddler, Shawn reached a nurturing hand to pat her cinnamon-hued curls.
“I was about to ask you whose kid you were baby-sitting,” he observed, adding with a wink at the now grinning April, “Yet I can tell by looking into those bright blue eyes that this kid is all yours.”
Claire blinked.
“Charlotte didn’t tell you that I had a child?” she asked, her tone disbelieving.
Shawn shook his head.
“I’ve been such a royal wuss, Babe,” he admitted on a sigh. “I asked Charlotte not to tell me any new developments about your personal life. If you had a new boyfriend, I didn’t want to know.” He paused here, adding as his eyes seemed to focus on April’s brown hair, “Only something tells me that she should have told me about this little one—this child that just happens to look a lot like me.”
Claire shook her head.
“Everything always has to be about you, doesn’t it Mr. Movie Star?” she scoffed, adding in an amplified voice for emphasis, “Listen closely, Shawn, because I’m only going to say this once. April is not your child.”
***
How, she wondered, could she look straight into the eyes of the man she loved and tell such a blatant lie?
Yes, as she sat there and stared into the wide dark eyes that never failed to intrigue and arouse her, she had to admit that she’d always love Shawn. Her first love. And, contrary to what she was telling him now, her only love.
“After you left for Hollywood, Shawn, I just had to go on with my life,” she explained, adding with an awkward shrug, “I had a lover or two, and out of that confusing, rather chaotic time was born something beautiful. And that would be the little angel now sleeping in the next room.”
Shawn nodded.
“She is wondrous, and so is her mother,” he told her, adding as he took her hands in his, “Look, Claire, I haven’t exactly been an angel out there in Hollywood. Women throw themselves at me all the time, and I admit that that I’ve caught more than a few,” he paused here, adding as he opened his arms to her, “I have to admit, though, that none of them compare to you. Everywhere I go, I keep looking for a woman just like you—and every damned time I come up short.” He paused here, adding as he leaned across Claire’s couch to sear her lips with a passionate kiss. “There is only one you, Claire. And I want nothing more than to make love to you, right here and now.”
“Yes,” Claire whispered, this time meeting his advance in full as she sank with resigned into his waiting arms.
Sweeping his lady up in a passionate embrace, an ardent Shawn plied her lips with the deepest, sweetest kisses, cradling her in his muscular arms as their mouths finally came together and their tongues touched softly.
She moaned in frustration as he broke their kiss, slithering nicely and slowly down the length of her curvy body as he kissed and licked her neck and breasts through the surface of her sheer white lace nightgown.
Finally, he fell to her feet and kissed her toes, then licked his way up her sturdy legs before resting finally at the juncture of her fleshy thighs.
She let loose with a soft cry as her lover surged upward to ensnare the border of her pink cotton panties, dragging them down her legs before leaving them in a puddle on the whisper soft carpet beside them.
Soon returning to the source of her pleasure, he opened her tender folds with a long, resounding lick as he massaged her full hips with soft but agile hands.
“Now just relax Princess and let me do everything,” he whispered softly. “Everything for your pleasure.”
With these words he seared her hungry clit with the ultimate intimate kiss, licking and suckling her heaving nub as hot shards of erotic ecstasy seared upward through every fiber of her being.
Bobbing his head up and down to intensify the sensation, her lover flicked the long wet tip of his tongue like a lightning bolt against her tender center, while the long silken tendrils of his cinnamon hair teased her heaving thighs.
Bucking her hips forward to encourage his advances, an enraptured Claire bit her lip hard as waves of pure ecstasy ran rampant from her head to her toes.
Then with a last loving lick, he sent her careening across the bounds of an incredible clitoral orgasm.
Covering her own mouth to suppress a cry of total surrender, she sank with relief into the cushions of her favorite comfy couch.
“Oh, yeah. Now I remember as to why I never got around to taking another lover,” she thought, writhing and wriggling free in the realm of sheer, unmitigated erotic bliss. “It’s because he spoiled me for all the rest.”
***
He savored the vision of Claire in ecstasy.
Staring up at his lady with satisfied eyes, Shawn smiled as he saw her writhe and slither in the heat of purest passion.
Yet still he knew his work here was far from done.
Not that he ever would consider the joyful act of making mad, passionate love to his beloved Claire anything close to work. Quite the contrary, he savored and revelled in her every moan, every tremble—and he lived in anticipation of the moment that he could sink into her arms.
Yet as he did, he swore to himself that he would focus almost solely on her pleasure and make this so good for her that it would bring her back for more.
With a wicked smile and this goal in mind, he now joined her on the surface of the couch and held her closer than close.
Sweeping her once again into a tight, heated embrace, he seared her lips with a passionate kiss as they descended together into the cushions beneath them and made quick work of one another’s clothes as their arms and legs entangled between them.
Claire’s full breasts crushed Shawn’s hard massive chest as he kneaded and massaged her work-worn back. Simultaneously, their bodies writhed and rubbed together igniting once again their long suppressed passion.
Settling himself between her parted thighs, her ardent lover covered her body with his and pulled her closer still as his long hard shaft flew upward to kiss her feminine cleft.
Shawn moaned contented as his lusty lady explored and rediscovered every inch of his hard sculpted body, stroking his pecs and tickling the surface of his taut, toned washboard abs.
Returning the gesture in kind, Shawn fondled and kneaded his lady’s full breasts until her nipples rose to hard erect peaks between his fingertips. He then moved his fingers lower tickling her gently rounded stomach before immersing them in the folds of her fleshy thighs.
“I remember this, my lady,” he growled in her ear, all the while gyrating his hard trim hips against hers in something of a blatant tease. “I remember all of those little things that drove my baby crazy. And I intend to do them all to and for you. Here. Tonight.”
With these words he began to rub and knead the surface of her throbbing clit, all the while continuing to gyrate against her as he covered her mouth with his.
Thrusting herself deeper into his binding embrace, an enthralled Claire leaned into Shawn’s hand as he continued to work her clit, once again arousing her to the point of distraction as she squirmed insensibly in his arms.
Finally, she braced her legs around his hard trim hips and spread her thighs before him, running her fingernails down the length of his planed back as she invited him inside.
With a low aroused growl, he thrust his hips forward and surged inside her; his long hard shaft plunged forth to her core in a single smooth advance.
Their hips claimed an immediate rhythm as their bodies engaged in a tempestuous tango; their limbs entwined tightly as their enjoined bodies moved and swayed together.
And even as he continued to probe and penetrate her, Shawn never failed to coddl
e and caress his lady, immersing her in a tender cocoon as he surged forth to her very core.
Their engorged limbs strained against one another as their kisses deepened, until finally he exploded inside of her, carrying them both across the bounds of an incredible mutual climax.
Gasping with pleasure as a rain of elation immersed every fiber of her being, Claire clung to her lover as the two basked in the realm of divine mutual fulfillment.
“This feels fantastic,” she thought, adding as she collapsed exhausted in his arms, “But what happens tomorrow?”
***
Tomorrow arrived all too soon for a sleepy Claire, who awoke in the soft cotton sheets of her basic camp bed.
Acting on instinct she reached across the bed, her hands and arms coming up empty as she came to the realization that she alone occupied her sleeping place.
“I should have known,” she mused with a sigh, hoisting herself up on her elbows as she shook her head from side to side, “He got what he wanted, conquered the only woman who wouldn’t fall at his feet, then hightailed it back to Hollywood. And now I end up looking like a royal fool of the highest order.”
Her troubled meditation was disrupted by the sound of a shrill, tinkling laugh; one that she immediately identified as belonging to her daughter April.
“What is April doing out of bed?” she mused, jumping out of her own bed as she raced for the living room.
She sighed with relief moments later as she saw her precious daughter ensconced in her favorite fluffy easy chair, chomping down merrily on a delicious looking plate of equally fluffy blueberry pancakes.
“Only one person in the entire city of Genoa is capable of making such scrumptious blueberry pancakes,” she thought, smiling in spite of herself as she spotted a hunk in blue jeans, a black shirt and her lacy lavender chef’s apron hovering above her stove.
“Good mornin’, Darlin’,” Shawn greeted her with a wink, adding as he motioned broadly in the direction of the couch, “Have a seat and let me serve you breakfast.”
