“But, isn’t the movie already written?” she asks me.
“Well, yes and no. Most of it is written, but there are some parts that are still evolving. As we film scenes and see what works, the writers change and fix and re-write. They’re on set every day, as are the director and I, which is why we have the trailers available. The lounge inside the warehouse is where most everyone spends their down time.”
“I’ll probably have more questions,” she says as Lucy pulls into a spot near my trailer. “I don’t really know how any of this works.”
“Ask me anything you want. Also, I spoke to the writing team before I left for the weekend. I mentioned that I was hoping to bring you back with me and that you like to write. They agreed to have you act as a sort of assistant on set so you can see how things work. If you want. It’s up to you. I didn’t want to assume…”
She stares at me as though she has seen something terrifying, mouth open and eyes wide.
“Carson, I – I don’t really know anything about real writing. Journals don’t count. I don’t know the first thing about any of this stuff, and…”
I wrap my arms around her and put my lips to hers to quiet her. “Angel, relax. They aren’t expecting you to re-write the screenplay,” I tease her. “It’s more like you watch them work and get their coffee and sharpen their pencils.”
That sweet blush of hers creeps back into her cheeks and she looks sheepish. “Of course not. I think I’m just a little intimidated by all of this. My social skills are more than rusty; they’re practically fossilized. I just don’t want to embarrass either of us.”
“That’s not something you need to worry about. I love you and everyone here will, too. Let’s put your bags inside and I’ll show you around.”
We spend the next couple of hours walking around, going through the warehouse and talking with a couple of set builders. They’re the only ones around today. She really does ask me a ton of questions; she’s interested in everything. It’s only when I actually hear her stomach rumble that I realize how long it has been since breakfast. I’m fascinated by this beautiful, incredible girl, and it’s easy to lose track of time when I’m with her.
Back in the trailer, I pull out the ingredients to make sandwiches and show her around while I put them together. When you’re in a space that’s roughly the size of a small RV, it doesn’t take much to give someone a grand tour. I’m standing in the middle of the “dining room and I’m able to show her each area within the trailer. On one end, there is a couch and a small entertainment setup; television, speakers, iPod dock, gaming console. In the center, there is a dining table with a booth on either side; it folds down to become an extra bed, but I’ve never needed to use it. The small kitchenette has a two-burner stove, a microwave, a refrigerator, and a couple of cupboards. The one-cup coffeemaker on the counter is pretty much the only thing in this area that sees any action. There is a pocket door just before the other end and beyond that is the bedroom. By bedroom, I mean a full-sized bed and a closet with some shelves above it all. The door next to the closet leads to what is probably the world’s smallest bathroom. A shower, sink, and toilet are wedged into the tiny space. Definitely not a luxury en-suite with all the amenities, but it works for me. The entire space is done in shades of blue and gray. It has a masculine feel to it, but I’m hoping Brie will feel at home here with me.
I place the sandwiches on the table and we sit down to eat. Brie’s eyes dart around from one thing to another. From the light in her eyes, I think she will be fine here, but I want her to know there are other options. “I know it isn’t a lot of space, Brie,” I say as I wipe the last crumbs from my mouth, “and if you want to stay in the hotel, we can do that. I want you to be comfortable.”
“Are you kidding?” She grins at me. She stands and takes both paper plates, tossing them in the trash bin and returning to wipe the table. “I kind of love this. It’s small, but has everything we need. This is perfect.” I stand to put my arms around her and she leans up on her tiptoes, kissing me gently. “Thank you,” she whispers.
As if ignited by the feel of our lips touching, she kisses me with increasing forcefulness. I reach my hand around the back of her head and clench my fingers in her soft hair. She’s pressing her sweet body against mine and my cock is at full attention. She tips her head and pulls me down toward her neck, moaning softly when I lick and suck at the exposed flesh. I knew there was fire and life within her. She just needed the freedom to express herself. I never imagined this little vixen hidden inside, though. That is a happy, sexy surprise.
We both begin pulling at our clothing, silently racing to expose ourselves to each other, wanting to climb inside each other’s skin and pull all the pleasure we can from it. Before I can take a deep breath, she is standing there in a pearly white bra and thong, biting her lip, and looking up at me with those intoxicating green eyes. Any control I might have been holding onto is lost, and I take her hand, practically dragging her caveman-style to the bedroom area. She sits on the edge of the bed and I push her shoulders back, laying her down against the plush comforter. I pull the thong from her body and discard it, spreading her legs in front of me. She looks incredible, dark hair spread out around her, her most intimate parts on display, just begging me to take care of them.
Still staring at her, I put two fingers in my mouth, wetting them. I run them along her slit and look her in the eyes as I push them into her firmly and quickly. She gasps and closes her eyes.
“Open them,” I growl. “Show me how this feels.” With effort, she pries them open again and looks back at me. Curling my fingers up against the front wall of her tight opening, I thrust them in and out, using my thumb to build friction against her clit. Her mouth is open and her breathing comes in quick pants as the pleasure builds within her. I press my other hand against the lowest part of her belly, just above her pubic bone, increasing the pressure against the fingers working inside her and her eyes roll back a bit before closing again, the sensation too much.
With every thrust, sounds that work my cock like a fist are pouring out of her and she begins to pulse around my fingers. Her face and chest flush as she cries out, her body stiffening, and I continue the motions until she begs for mercy.
Looking up at me, she opens her mouth to say something, but closes it again, an aftershock of pleasure rolling through her body. Her responses are so real, so primal, and my hands shake as I roll a condom on.
Still standing between her legs, I press into her. Her legs against my shoulders, I reach up and push the bra above her breasts, rubbing my thumbs across her nipples as I build a steady rhythm within her. She reaches for me, putting her hands on either side of my face, taking every bit of me within her and writhing beneath me as we connect over and over. I want to hold on, want to make her come for me again, but my control is already shattered and it doesn’t take long before I let go, shouting her name. I lean forward, still inside her and lie against her, raining kisses across her face and neck.
We just lie there for a few minutes, my pulse slowly returning to normal. Regretfully, I lift myself from her and head to the bathroom to dispose of the condom. I come back through the doorway and she is sitting on the bed, legs folded up in front of her with her arms around them. She seems to be lost in thought and I feel a second of panic. Did I hurt her?
“Brie?” I ask carefully. She looks up at me with a small smile. “Are you okay?”
She nods and opens her mouth as if to say something, then closes it again.
“Whatever it is, we can talk about it. Did I hurt you?”
“No, no, it’s nothing like that.” She shakes her head furiously. “I just – um… was it okay for you?”
“What?” I splutter at her. “Brie, being with you is one of the most incredible things I have ever experienced. I have a feeling you will make me lose my mind every damn time. In a good way.”
“Well, last time I was able to, you know,” she gestures toward my cock, which is still semi-ha
rd between us, “suck you,” she almost whispers as a slight blush creeps across her face. “This time I didn’t do, well, anything.”
I laugh in relief at her words. “Brielle Violet, you’re perfect. What you did was perfect, what we did was perfect. It won’t be the same every time. Opening yourself up to me? Sometimes that’s enough. You’re amazing and responsive and I came so fucking hard there were spots in front of my eyes. We haven’t come close to exploring everything about each other, but we have lots of time for that. If it makes you feel better, I can make sure you have plenty of opportunities to suck me.”
This time she laughs with me and I take her hand, pulling her up to stand next to me. I kiss her full lips and hold her for a moment. “Now, go get dressed so I can take you out for the day.”
Once we’re dressed, we head out to a nearby farmer’s market I’ve seen open on previous Saturdays. Not only do they have fruits and vegetables and fresh-baked pastries, but there are painters and potters and jewelry-makers selling their creations. I can see Brie delighting in so many of the things they have to offer, and it’s my goal to put a smile on her face that lasts all day.
Chapter Thirteen
Carson
The freedom I feel in being able to take my girl out in public without fear is indescribable. I want to spoil her rotten, show her everything, let her feel like the princess she is. We spend hours looking at all the things the market has to offer. With each discovery, Brie’s smile grows wider and I’m amazed at her ability to have a conversation with anyone she meets. We buy some apples and peaches, a handmade bracelet for Brie, and a few things that will make the trailer seem a little more like a home. Around four o’clock in the afternoon, our arms are loaded and we realize we’re both getting hungry. It’s a little early, but we decide to go grab some dinner before going back to the lot.
As we walk back to the car, we’re approached by a group of teenage girls who recognize me. Brie stands patiently by, watching me sign autographs and taking pictures of us with the girls’ cell phones. She laughs and talks with them for a few minutes before we say goodbye. As fan encounters go, this one is damn good for her first experience. No one tries to kiss me, gives me their undergarments, or tries to tear my clothing. Yes, that has happened. All of it. The really rowdy stuff usually only happens at big events, premieres and stuff like that, where the crowd gets all hyped up. The frenzy they work themselves into is kind of like consuming too much alcohol; inhibitions and self-control are forgotten in the race to get a piece of any so-called celebrity within reach. The crowd forgets we are only human; they’re blinded and held spell-bound by the show we put on for them. If they only knew that the “beautiful” people are only that way after every minute detail of their existence is polished to a shine. The clothing, the jewelry, the poses in front of the camera; it’s all planned in advance.
I realize that I’ve been lost in my own thoughts for far too long, not paying attention to the girl who helps me to forget all of that. The girl who loves me for me.
“Is everything okay?” she asks quietly.
I put my arms around her and kiss her until we’re both breathless. “It’s great. I was just remembering why I got out of the whole Hollywood game for a while. The pressure, the fans, the need to keep up appearances.”
“Those girls seemed nice, though. I think the redhead blushed all the way to her toes the entire time she was near you!”
I laughed along with her, walking back to the car. We stop at a little diner that has the best cherry pie I’ve ever eaten in my life. We both get huge, greasy cheeseburgers with every topping you can think of and laugh our heads off as we try to outdo each other with corny jokes. When we finally pull up in front of our little temporary home, I tell Lucy to take the rest of the weekend off; I want to spend every second alone with Brie that I can before Monday morning hits and the world gets crazy again.
Brielle
Sunday is kind of a blur for me; we end up spending most of it in bed reading, making love and taking naps. For lunch, we tear off pieces of the most delicious loaf of bread I’ve ever eaten. We picked it up yesterday from a table of baked goods made by Amish women. I slice up a couple of the peaches and bring out a small tub of fresh cheese curds that were also part of yesterday’s bounty, and it’s a perfect meal.
It’s late in the day when I finish the book I’ve been reading on Carson’s Kindle. It’s called Emerge, by a woman named S.E. Hall and I just love it. I laughed out loud at the main character’s smart mouth and quick wit. She’s kind of my hero. I put it down slowly, still thinking about the characters. I have a feeling Carson won’t see his Kindle much anymore. I’m quickly becoming a book addict.
I look over to Carson who, surprisingly, has showered and dressed at some point during my reading frenzy. “Finally finished?” he asks.
“When did you get cleaned up?” I didn’t know he had even left the room.
“Somewhere between when you laughed out loud and when you muttered, ‘that bitch’,” he teases me. “I’m pretty sure you were somewhere else for a while there.”
“This is why I want to write, Carson,” I tell him earnestly. “I want to make people feel things like this. I want to create characters that make people care about them. I want to tell stories that take people out of their lives for a while.”
“I get it,” he says seriously. “It’s the best part of acting. When you take away all the money and politics and crazy fans, it’s about doing something that people will enjoy. When they turn on that television set or enter that movie theatre, I want to know that they can leave everything else behind and just experience what we’ve put together for them.”
“Exactly,” I say. “God knows most people have enough troubles in their lives. I’ve seen enough trouble to last me a lifetime, and I want to give something to others that is pure enjoyment.”
Carson smiles at me, but if he was going to say something else, it’s cut short by a knock on the trailer door. Since I never actually managed to put on anything but Carson’s bathrobe, I hang back in the bedroom while Carson answers the door. I can hear him talking to another man for a few moments before he comes back in the room.
“It was Tom Hill, the director,” he says. “He came back tonight for a meeting, but it was cancelled. He’s invited us over so he can meet you and we’ll grill some steaks for dinner.”
“It’s okay that I’m here, right? You won’t get into any trouble for having me on the lot?” I suddenly worry that maybe Carson has put himself on the line to get me here.
“No, it’s totally okay that you’re here. I told Tom I was hoping to bring you back with me. He’s a cool guy; he said he couldn’t wait to meet the girl that made me ‘all mushy’.”
I’m usually the one who blushes, but this time it’s Carson’s face turning bright pink as he uses Lucy’s expression for the way he feels about me.
“I guess he talked to Lucy?” I say with a laugh.
“Oh, yeah, Lucy knows everyone around here. She has actually worked on a ton of movies, but she had a back injury a couple of years ago and can’t do all that anymore. So she took that huge personality and put it behind the wheel of a car. Can you guess what she used to do?”
I think for a moment, but shake my head. I’d have guessed she was a comedy writer, but then a back injury wouldn’t pull her out of the game completely. I’m at a loss.
“She was a stuntwoman.” Carson grins broadly. “Car chases, jumping from buildings, you name it. It was a poor landing that messed up her back. She was already a great driver, she even did some of those car commercials with the caption ‘professional driver on a closed course, do not try this at home’. I guess it was kind of natural for her to put those skills to use somewhere else.”
“You know,” I muse, “I can totally see her doing all of that. I’m sorry she got hurt, but I’m glad I’ve had the chance to meet her. I’ve never met anyone like her before.”
“You probably never will again,” Carson a
nswers as he leaves me to get showered and dressed.
***
I’m kind of nervous to meet the director, but Carson has reassured me that he’s easygoing and fun. We picked up an apple tart at the Amish table yesterday, so I grab that as my dessert offering and we walk next door hand in hand.
It’s a great evening; Carson and Tom make me laugh so hard I’m crying more than once. Dinner is phenomenal; Tom grilled up a couple of the most flavorful, tender, delicious steaks I’ve ever eaten. It’s a far cry from the bargain beef I used to prepare for Hank, and I literally moan out loud as the first bite melts in my mouth.
It’s only when I can’t seem to stop yawning that we say goodbye and head home. I brush my teeth and crawl into bed in my underwear, exhausted from the greatest weekend of my life. I’m just conscious enough to feel Carson slip under the covers next to me, wrapping me in his arms, before I fall into a dreamless sleep.
Chapter Fourteen
Brielle
The sound of a car horn blaring jerks me awake. I reach for Carson, but he’s already up. His side of the bed has gone cold, so I know he’s been gone a while. As I slowly begin to come to full consciousness, I realize the car horn is just one of the many noises I can hear from outside the door of our trailer. There are voices both near and far accompanied by the distant sound of a hammer pounding relentlessly against some unknown target. It suddenly dawns on me that this is the day I will meet the rest of the cast and crew – my first day on set as assistant to the writing team.
I throw the covers back and find my clothes from last night. They’re lying on the floor where I tossed them in my exhaustion. I feel my lips turn up in an automatic smile at the thought of this weekend’s adventures. My body is all-too-aware this morning of all the walking we did on Saturday as well as our frequent lovemaking on Sunday.
To Hell and Back Page 10
