She began to wander slowly through the room, watching the students. It was just like life. Some of the couples were earnest and focused on doing the exercise properly, as though they were going to be graded. Some were self-conscious, looking miserably aware of being in public and on camera. Most of them, though, looked like they were just getting turned on—not just by the lesson, but by watching their fellow students.
So maybe the tidy Glendale neighborhoods weren't just about coffee klatches and the PTA, she thought with a smile. Maybe they had their share of swingers, too. She'd intended this segment as a tool to draw the average viewer into a world where sexual rules went out the window. Each segment of the doc would take them further, bit by bit, so they wouldn't really notice it. But maybe she'd miscalculated. Maybe, just maybe, Middle America had come further than she realized.
"What a cool thing," she murmured, starting when she realized that she'd spoken aloud.
"We just wanted to spice things up a little bit," said a thin brunette named Miranda, casually flipping her silk robe to cover her bare breast. "You've got to be open to new things."
Miranda's partner George, who looked like he might work at the local lube shop, just nodded. Sabrina suspected he'd be all in favor of anything leading to quality sheet time.
"We tried a tantric sex class, but I wanted something with more action," Miranda said. "Of course, sitting in the middle of a roomful of people having sex isn't so bad," she giggled, and began to move on George's lap again.
Sabrina moved over to the school principal and his partner. He was shipped down to a silk G-string and giving his partner a surprisingly good lap dance. He rubbed his green silk-clad crotch against the blonde, letting her feel his hard-on while he traced his fingers down over her breasts. "Yeah, you like that, don't you," he whispered, staring into her eyes.
Now this was a motivated man, Sabrina thought. This was a group of people who knew how to make it fun, how to make it sexy, how to make it about them.
Cherry crossed over to where Sabrina stood with Kev and Stef. "So, are you enjoying yourselves?"
"It's been educational," Sabrina said. "You always get a crowd like this?"
"Sometimes more. You should come out on a weekend night. People really let their hair down then," she said with a sidelong glance at Stef. "I think you'd like it."
"Well, it looks like we've got everything we need," Sabrina said thinly.
Cherry glanced from Stef to Sabrina and nodded. "Excellent." The song ended and she raised her voice a little. "Of course, it hardly seems fair to send off the film crew without a little bit of instruction, does it, gang?" she asked the group. "You two," she crooked her finger at Sabrina and Stef, "over here."
Surprise had Sabrina laughing. Some other time with some other person, maybe, but Stef? No way. "Thanks, but we need to finish up here and get going."
"Nope, you've got to do at least one dance if you're going to report on it. Them's the rules."
Sabrina picked up her notepad. "I learned plenty by watching."
"Well, then it will be easy to demonstrate for us."
Suddenly, it wasn't nearly as amusing. "I'm hardly dressed for it," she said, gesturing down at her miniskirt.
"We're not exactly dressed ourselves," Cherry purred. "Besides, short skirts work well for lap dancing."
Stef shook his head. "I've done my volunteer work today."
Kev suddenly became intensely interested in reviewing some playback, eyes locked on his equipment.
Cherry studied Stef coolly. "You know, that's an awfully uptight attitude to take, especially since everyone in this room has signed a release to let you film us for national broadcast without asking for a dime." She looked around at the women standing in lingerie and the men, many of whom were wearing only robes. There were murmurs and nods of agreements, then someone began a slow, measured clap.
Cherry clearly liked calling the shots and putting them on the spot seemed to amuse her. "I think it's a gesture of good faith for you to at least run through a minute or two of a dance," she insisted. The clapping grew louder, augmented by whistles.
Sabrina leaned over to Stef. "Got any ideas, Mr. Red-blooded Male?"
"You're the one who got us into this. You get us out."
"I'm not sure I can," she confessed.
Stef gave her a long look and raked his hair back out of his eyes. He turned to Kev. "I'm not expecting to hear about this again."
"What? Sorry, I wasn't paying attention. Too busy," Kev assured him, eye still pressed to the viewfinder. A corner of his mouth tugged up.
"Make it fast," Stef muttered to Sabrina, then strode over to sit in the straight-back chair. It would be okay, Sabrina told herself as she followed. She'd just pretend it was someone besides Stef. Who knew, maybe it would even be fun.
Cherry gave them a glance over her shoulder and put a new CD into the player. Something about the smirk that flickered over her mouth looked entirely too satisfied, Sabrina thought. Then the music started. It flowed out of the speakers, a sexy, bluesy number with a powerful beat. Cherry turned up the volume a bit, then turned it up some more.
Sabrina took a deep breath and put her hands on Stef's shoulders. In clothing, he looked deceptively lanky, so the solid mass of muscle under her fingers came as a surprise. He'd matured since they'd been lovers. Then, he'd been little more than a boy. Now, he was a man, and she could feel it in every fiber of him.
She stepped in and lowered herself to barely brush his legs.
"No perching on his knees," Cherry instructed. "Get in there. I want to see contact."
Sabrina rested her full weight on him and slid in a fraction closer. Stef looked at her with the same unruffled stare he'd given her in her office. Sudden annoyance surged through her. He'd managed to kiss her and throw her for a loop without losing an ounce of calm. Not this time. This time she'd pull a reaction from him. Oh yes, this time she'd definitely be the one in control.
She settled her hands more solidly on his shoulders and moved forward until the satin of her thong was firmly against his crotch, her silky short skirt sliding back to expose tanned legs. Someone whooped, and Sabrina grinned despite herself. Around them, people swayed to the music as though they were in a ship club, watching the show.
"Now move, honey," Cherry said in her ear. "Make him sweat." Sabrina nodded to the beat and then, as she caught the rhythm, began working herself back and forth on Stef's lap. The twill of his khakis felt smooth against the backs of her thighs. His zipper pressed at her mons, then lower. The thrill of arousal took her by surprise. It told her that she was wetter than she realized. When she pressed again, the slick friction made her catch her breath.
"You're the dancer," Cherry said. "You're allowed to touch him."
Focus, Sabrina told herself, concentrating on wiping that expressionless look off his face. With a slow, teasing smile, she trailed the back of her fingers up the side of his cheek and into his hair. He'd be hard-pressed to avoid looking down her tank top at her breasts, she realized, leaning closer. She took a deep breath, knowing that it made them stand out more, and leaned in to nuzzle his forehead.
"You can stop this any time you want," Stef said, his voice tight.
"Why? Am I making you uncomfortable?" she whispered, wiggling against his crotch, in part to infuriate him and maybe in part because it felt so damned good.
A muscle jumped in his jaw. His black eyes bored into hers. "What do you think?"
Then she felt a sudden pressure against her, a hard fullness where there'd been none before. Sabrina ran a fingertip teasingly into the collar of his shirt and leaned in against him. "Is it turning you on, is that why you want to stop?" The surge of lust that rocketed through her made her dizzy. He was rock-hard against her now. If she hadn't been so close to him, she might have missed his soft groan. Sabrina leaned back in surprise.
She'd wanted a reaction from him. What she felt now wasn't triumph, though, but raw, naked desire. She wanted to tear his clothes of
f, have him take her then and there, bent over the couch, down on the floor—
"Someone get a bucket of cold water for these two," Cherry called gleefully.
Sabrina blinked in surprise. For just that moment, she'd forgotten they were in a roomful of people. She'd been totally focused on what was happening between her and Stef. Getting immersed in him was a dangerous thing to let happen.
She'd learned that the hard way.
Sabrina stood up slowly, to give Stef the benefit of time to calm down. Amid the noise and motion in the room, his own appearance went unnoticed.
It was nothing, she told herself as she straightened her skirt and turned mechanically to pack up her notes and files. It would have happened with any good-looking guy she was rubbing around on like that. It didn't mean anything. She and Stef were through with a capital T.
She just needed to remember to keep it that way.
Gradually, as the room emptied, she started to find the humor in what had happened.
Cherry walked them to the door. Sabrina turned to her before stepping outside. "We'll send you information on the test screening. We'd love to have you come."
"I've been on screen before, but not like that." The redhead smiled broadly. "It might be fun … I hope you found here what you were looking for."
"It was, ah, educational," Sabrina responded.
"I'll bet," Cherry said, and her gaze flicked toward Stef. "I'd tell you to come on back any time for advanced lessons, but I think you've got the technique down just fine. Good luck."
Baffled, Sabrina shook hands with her. "And to you."
* * *
"I see you haven't changed," Stef said tightly as they walked toward the filming truck where the crew was already loading up equipment. He wasn't sure who he was more angry at—Sabrina for the lap dance or himself for the fact that his system still hadn't leveled out. Get her out of his head. Yeah, right. Smart thinking. "This is just the kind of thing you used to pull back at UCLA and it's exactly why I didn't want to work with you to begin with. You're a loose cannon."
Sabrina just laughed. "Oh, lighten up, already. She wanted to yank our chains and she did. So what? You know we got great footage out of this."
"It wasn't about the footage and you know it. You were completely out of line." And she'd sucked him right in.
"Your problem is that you've always taken yourself too seriously," she said, unclipping her purse. "The brilliant, visionary Stef Costas. Well, that's not who you are on this one. You're anonymous, so why don't you relax and enjoy it?" She turned to walk toward her car.
Stef's eyes narrowed and he took two quick steps, turning her and dragging her into his arms. He saw her look of shock for an instant. Then his mouth closed on hers and vision was irrelevant.
It was more than a kiss. It was all the frustration and arousal of the past few hours, pouring from him into her. He knew she thought she had him under control, but she was wrong. He wanted to devour her, to show her who was master, to lead them both into a blind, clawing frenzy.
He'd watched her during the filming, moving through the room in her tank top, her skirt swishing against those fabulous legs. Then sitting there motionless during her lap dance, unable to react, staring as her mocking smile turned into the flush of arousal. And remembering what it was like to drive himself deep into her, knowing what it was like to have those legs twined around him.
Knowing how she cried out when she came.
As he felt Sabrina begin to match him for fire and flash, he fought to drag himself back from the brink that she pulled him toward. He had to get a grip, Stef realized dimly, struggling for control. If they were going to go there, he'd be the one to lead.
The rest of the crew was around somewhere, maybe even watching them. Somehow, he couldn't make it matter.
Trying to manage his breathing, he released her and stepped back. "No more little stunts like that again."
Sabrina's stunned expression gradually cleared. "Is that what you think this was about?" she asked incredulously. "You can't handle the fact that you wanted me? You've got hormones like everybody else, Stef. Learn to deal with them." She pulled her keys out of her purse. "We always were good in bed. It was everywhere else that needed work."
* * *
6
« ^ »
Stef leaned back in his chair and stared up at the bare pipes and girders that ran across the ceiling of his office. So maybe a warehouse in the commercial area in Culver City wasn't exactly a high-rent address, but it provided enough space for the right price, not to mention skylights and parking. He swiveled his chair to look out into the reception area, where vivid abstract paintings from several up-and-coming artists studded the industrial white walls. Okay, so practical only went so far. Even he needed to recharge his visual batteries occasionally.
Kev sprawled on the black leather couch at the other end of the room. Stef had meant it when he'd told Sabrina that he didn't work without Kev. More precisely, he didn't work effectively without him. Maybe it was seven years of back-to-back shooting, but they managed to communicate without words. Sometimes Kev knew what Stef wanted almost before he'd decided it. Snappy work for a young guy with a soul patch-Fu Manchu combo and a dubiously laundered T-shirt. The fact that he was a brilliant cinematographer only showed up when you saw him work. Kev's untidy crop and slacker style didn't inspire much confidence from producers. His camerawork did.
"So, I always wondered what it would be like to work with one of those big-time Hollywood people," Kev said idly, tossing a Hacky Sack in the air above him and catching it rhythmically. "Besides you, of course," he added.
"Besides me," Stef said dryly.
"Sabrina Pantolini, of the famous Pantolinis."
"Can we talk about something else, please? Like lighting?" Stef made notes on a lined pad in front of him. "I don't want to be hauling a million reflectors and flags out to the location if we're not going to use them, and I don't want to light it like a porn set."
"Oh, I don't know, irony's very hip these days."
"Kev." Stef's voice held an unmistakable note of warning.
"Tell me what you want, chief, you'll get it," Kev said, and returned to tossing the ball. "Although judging by her looks, I bet our producer would be all for it. So is it true what they say about sleeping your way to the top in this town?"
Stef's head snapped around. After a minute he turned back to his notepad. "Not in your case. So are we going to talk lighting or are you just here to bug me?"
"You know me, always ready for work," Kev said agreeably. "Whatever it takes to move the project ahead. I'll even volunteer for extra duty, like working off some of our producer's excess tension, say."
This time, Stef turned even faster. "If you're not in the mood to work, maybe you ought to leave," he suggested.
"Touchy." Kev sounded amused, not chastened. "But still, not just one but two lap dances. You need someone to take the heat off you. You know me, I'll do my part for the team."
"Believe me, it wasn't as hot as it looked."
Kev laughed at Stef's glower. "Yeah, you looked like you were having a terrible time."
"Fine. Next time, I'll take the camera and let you deal with it."
"Unless you want to share…"
This time, Stef snapped his pen down. "What's your point, Kev?"
"No point." He returned to tossing the ball.
Stef started to turn back to his desk. "So do you think—"
"Looks like you guys go back a ways."
"College. What's it to you?"
"You're seeming a little edgy, bud."
"If I'm edgy, it's because you're ticking me off. Why are you on me about Sabrina?" Bad enough that images of her kept intruding in his thoughts. He didn't need a reminder that he'd lost control on the job the day before.
"Hey, I'm just trying to figure out the lay of the land here. I mean, I'm trying to do my usual world-class job and if you two are going to be having lovers' quarrels—"
"
Put a lid on it. Any old business I have with Sabrina is not going to get in the way of the shoot."
Kev barely suppressed a smirk. "It does when you're making out in front of the cargo van I'm trying to load. I mean, don't get me wrong, she's a step up from your usual type. Guess you had better taste back in college."
"Look, don't—"
The phone rang, the electronic burble loud in the room.
"Costas."
"Stef, it's Sabrina."
It's Sabrina. There had been a time when those words would have stopped him dead. Now, he let his breath out slowly. "Right. What do you need?" Professionals. They both needed to concentrate on being professionals.
"I'm making arrangements for the New York shoot. Are you going to ship the camera equipment ahead or take it on the plane with you?"
"Take it with. I don't like to let that kind of equipment out of my hands. By the way, we should talk about those street interviews you want to bridge segments with. We should stay an extra day or two and knock them off in Manhattan. New York's perfect for them."
"I've already cleared it to shoot in Santa Monica on the Promenade and in Hollywood on Melrose."
It was news to him. "New York is going to give you a better vibe." He picked up the pen and began making a pattern of tight, sharp hatch marks. "Think about it, we can use Times Square, Greenwich Village. Great stuff."
"It's not possible, especially at this point." Her brisk tone brooked no opposition.
"As director, I get some input here. It's not hard to pull a permit in New York."
"Have you ever shot there?" Her voice was curt.
Stef noticed Kev's interested look and struggled not to react. "No, why?"
"A permit's the least of our problems. It's a union town, Stef, remember?"
"So?"
"So stick to directing and leave me to do my job." There was a click in his ear and the line buzzed.
He cursed and reached for her business card.
"Nice to see that you and our producer continue to see eye to eye." Kev started tossing the ball again.
Stef ignored him, stabbing at the keypad of the phone. They had to get a handle on this or they were never going to get anything done, he thought, listening to the tones that signified ringing across town.
TURN ME ON Page 5
