by Amber Page
“I’m not sure. Play them again.” This time she would actually watch them.
The problem became apparent almost immediately, but she let the reel play to the end before she gave her opinion.
“It’s simple. The actress you hired thinks she’s in a porn movie. She doesn’t appear to have a funny bone in her body. And those boobs make her look like Jessica Rabbit. The women in these videos are supposed to be way more real and way funnier.”
“So what do you think we should do?” Mark asked.
“Start over.”
“What?” David yelled. “We can’t do that. We’ve already spent too much. We can’t hire another actress.”
“We have to,” Becky snapped. “These videos are what’s going to make people remember Eden. We can run all the polished TV ads we want, but if we don’t find a way to connect with people, to entertain them and get them talking— well, Eden’s just going to end up being another yogurt in the refrigerator case. And we’re going to end up fired.”
“But we don’t even have the business yet! I can’t possibly put up the money to do a whole new shoot—the first one cost almost fifty thousand dollars!”
Mark looked at her, a silent plea in his eyes. She thought about the night they had scripted them. About how excited he’d been. And how badly she wanted to win this account. She made the only decision she could.
“Fine. I’ll do it,” Becky blurted.
“You’ll what?”
“I’ll be your actress...but only for the version we show at the pitch. It’s either that or we scrap the whole idea. We certainly can’t show these to the client.”
David and Mark stared at her, plainly flabbergasted.
“Are you sure you want to do that?” Mark asked.
“No, but I will. Just as long as we all understand that if they like them and want to go ahead with the video campaign, we make them give us the budget to shoot them with real actresses—actresses that I choose.”
“Do you think you can pull it off?” David asked.
“Oh, I’m fairly certain I can.”
“How certain?”
“Very. I can fake an orgasm right now if you want me to prove it.”
David blanched. “No! No, that won’t be necessary. I trust you. Just get it done. Quickly.”
Then he scrabbled backward out through the door as quickly as he could.
Mark looked at her. “I guess it’s just you and me, kid.”
“Yep. I guess so,” she said, trying to ignore the way her pulse was pounding.
“I’ve missed you.”
He’d missed her? He’d missed her? How dared he...? It was his fault they’d been apart in the first place.
“Good,” she said. No way was she going to admit that she’d missed him, too.
He looked at her, a rueful smile on his face. “I guess I deserved that,” he said.
She nodded. “Yep. You did. But never mind that. We’ve got a video series to film. When do you want to start?”
He sighed. “Well, unfortunately the camera crew we used the first time has moved on to another project, and I’m not sure where to get another one on such short notice.”
“Camera crew? Who needs a camera crew? We’re both professionals. Let’s just do it ourselves.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Seriously? You think we can?”
“I don’t know if you’ve seen the agency equipment closet, but we’ve got some pretty sweet cameras. As long as you can push a button we’ll be fine.”
“Okay,” he said. “You’re on. I’ll book a room and we can start filming tonight.”
Her mind stuttered. “A room?”
“A hotel room, silly. That’s how you scripted it, remember?”
Oh. Yeah. She had. But she wasn’t sure she felt comfortable being alone in a hotel room with Mark now that their relationship was back to being strictly professional.
Unfortunately she had already volunteered. She couldn’t back out now.
“Right,” she said. “That makes sense. Okay, you set it up and email me the details. I’ll meet you there at seven.”
* * *
Becky decided to spend the rest of the afternoon getting herself camera-ready. While she’d told David she wanted the videos to look real, she didn’t need the client to see her in her current frazzled, haven’t-looked-in-a-mirror-in-four-days state.
After three hours at the salon, getting her hair blown out, eyebrows waxed, nails manicured and face professionally made up, she was feeling much better.
Especially since she had every intention of billing it all to the agency. Now all she needed was a few outfit changes and she’d be all set. The scripts she’d written called for both yoga pants and exotic lingerie.
The yoga pants she had. But the other scenes called for a visit to her favorite lingerie boutique. She hoped David had been billing their clients regularly, because this trip was going to cost him.
She wandered around the store, looking at frilly pink confections, slinky red gowns, and black lace fantasies, unable to decide which would be best. Finally she decided to just try them all on.
Once in the fitting room, she was struck by an idea that she knew was both awesome and completely evil. Since she couldn’t decide what to buy, she’d snap pics and send them to Mark.
After all, he was the art director. It was only fitting that he be in charge of wardrobe. Before she could talk herself out of it Becky took a picture of herself in a slinky red gown and composed a message to send to Mark.
Can’t decide what wardrobe choices to buy for the shoot, she texted. Should I get this one?
After hitting Send, she quickly changed into the next outfit and prepared to repeat the exercise. But before she could even take the picture, her phone pinged with Mark’s return text.
Hell, yes.
She grinned and sent the next picture.
How about this?
Please do.
After sending the third picture, she sat back and admired her reflection. The push-up cups in the black lace chemise made her breasts look huge...making her waist look tiny by comparison. Her hair was thicker than she’d ever seen it, and her face practically glowed under the makeup.
She might not be a porn star, but she looked pretty damn good.
Finally, her phone pinged.
GET THEM ALL, his text read.
Her veins buzzed with triumph. Hopefully, he was sincerely regretting his hasty decision to end the physical side of their relationship right now. He certainly would be by the time the night was over if she had anything to say about it.
SEVEN
Mark drummed his fingers impatiently on the glass tabletop. Everything was ready for the shoot. Now all he needed was for his talent to show up. Hopefully with her clothes on.
He’d chosen to rent a suite instead of a hotel room. He’d told himself that it was so they’d have plenty of space to set up their equipment, but if he was being honest he knew it was so he’d have somewhere to retreat if the temptation to touch her got to be too much.
Lord knew the pictures she’d sent this afternoon had been enough to get him rock hard. She looked like something out of his fantasies, her innocently mischievous expression contrasting wildly with the siren’s body underneath. He was certain better men than him would fall victim to the silent promise in every pixel of those images.
But he wouldn’t. Couldn’t.
If he touched her again he wouldn’t be able to stop. And if he didn’t stop touching her, their hearts would get involved. And then, if he wasn’t careful, he’d find himself with a life full of... His mind showed him pictures of weddings and babies and laughing families. But he shook his head, rejecting the images.
It would all end in heartbreak. Even if they made it to the altar, love
never lasted. She’d get bored, find someone better and wealthier, and he’d end up crushed. It was better not to go there in the first place.
He jumped at the sudden knock on the door.
Becky had arrived. After taking a moment to push all his inappropriate emotions back into the box where they belonged, Mark opened the door.
And felt lust roaring to life all over again.
Gone was the fresh-faced woman he worked with. In her place was a primped and polished beauty who looked as if she’d just stepped out of a magazine cover.
“Wow,” was all he could say.
She raised her eyebrow. “Is that your new version of hello?”
“No. Sorry. Come in. It’s just...you look fantastic.”
“Well, it’s not every day I find myself starring in an advert,” she said as she breezed past him. “I thought I should look the part.”
Once inside the door, she stopped dead and whistled.
“Whoa! When you do something, you don’t believe in going halfway, do you?”
The suite was pretty spectacular. Dark mahogany wood covered the floor and supported the sky-high ceiling. The bed was king-size and ultraplush, with what seemed to be a mountain of fluffy blankets and pillows piled on top. Through a door to the right there was a kitchen area that gleamed with stainless steel appliances and sparkling granite counters. At the back, just in front of the two-story-tall windows, was a living area outfitted with a white leather couch and vivid red club chairs. And, although Becky couldn’t see it, Mark knew she’d die when she saw the bathroom. It had a tub big enough to swim in, a two-person shower, and more complimentary beauty products than he’d ever seen.
“Well, you know... This is on the company. I figured why settle for anything less than the best?” he said, grinning.
She laughed. “We’re on the same wavelength, then. I don’t even want to tell you how much I spent in the lingerie store.”
A strange kind of hunger growled to life in the pit of his stomach. “Well, if the pictures you sent were any indication, I’d say whatever you spent was well worth the cost.”
“Well,” she said with a wicked smile, “you’ll be seeing them in the flesh in just a few minutes. Where do you think we should start?”
The bed. That was where he wanted to start...and finish. But only if he was in it with her. Unfortunately, that was the one place he couldn’t go.
“Maybe we should tackle the ‘before’ parts of the skits first, then tackle the ‘after.’ That way you don’t have to keep changing back and forth.”
Plus, that way, he wouldn’t have to see her in that sexy lingerie for a while.
“Okay,” she said. “Why don’t you get set up? I’ll get changed.”
He nodded, wondering if he should take a cold shower or slam his hand in a drawer or something while she was gone. He needed to do something drastic or there would be no way to keep his libido under control.
* * *
Three hours later they were done with every yoga-panted scenario the scripts called for, plus a few more Mark had thrown in just for good measure. It was time to move on to the sexy stuff.
God help him.
He busied himself setting up lights in the bedroom area, telling himself that it was no big deal. After all, the woman who’d been their lead actress in the first version of these videos had been a bona fide porn star.
He’d made it through that shoot with barely more than a tingle in his nether regions. Surely he could do the same now? It might be Becky playing the part, but it was still business. Sex had no place here.
None.
“All right, I’m ready,” Becky called from somewhere behind him. “Where do you want me?”
Mark turned, his most professional smile on his face. “Did you remember to bring the yogurt con...?”
The sentence trailed off as his mind registered what Becky was wearing. She looked like sin made flesh. Her blond curls tumbled over shoulders covered only by a pair of spaghetti-thin red satin straps.
His eyes traveled farther down, noticing that the straps led to a slinky red gown that made the most of Becky’s perfectly mounded breasts, begging him to touch them. Then it followed the contours of her itty-bitty waist before splitting into a thigh-high slit.
The leg that peeked through was wrapped in a matching red fishnet stocking, and was made to look all the longer by the spiky cheetah-print stilettos.
“Hey, I remember those shoes,” he said, cursing himself for his stupidity the moment the words were out of his mouth.
She laughed. “Yeah, I figured I was spending enough of David’s money without going shoe shopping, too. And these babies certainly had the desired effect the first time around.”
Inwardly he groaned, remembering that first night. He hadn’t thought she could possibly look any hotter than she had when he’d met her in Vegas. He’d been wrong.
“You look amazing,” he said. There. That was innocent enough. He was just giving the lady her due. She didn’t need to know how very close he was to ripping those amazing clothes off her body and throwing her on the bed.
She grinned happily and did a pirouette.
“I know. I really should buy things like this more often. It does wonderful things for a girl’s self-confidence.”
Then she swished over to the bed, crossing her legs seductively after she dropped onto its surface.
“In answer to your earlier unasked question—yes, I did bring the yogurt container. And now I am prepared to do nasty things with this spoon,” she said, holding out her intended weapon.
Mark watched helplessly as she brought it to her lips and licked it seductively, then plunged it deep into her mouth. Throwing her head back, she pulled it slowly out, then traced it down her neck to linger at the top of her breasts.
Mark groaned involuntarily, every muscle in his body aching with the need to kiss her everywhere the spoon had touched—and in many places it hadn’t.
Her head popped up and she grinned.
“Guess I’m doing that right, huh?”
“I’d say. You may have missed your calling as a porn star.”
Her nose wrinkled. “Nah. Too many scary dudes. But maybe I could moonlight as a pinup girl. At, like, an ice cream parlor or something. Ice cream really does make me hot.”
He laughed. It was good to know that the Becky he knew was still in there somewhere.
“All right, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” he said. “First we’ve got to make you a video star.”
She nodded. “Okay, let’s do it.”
“So, in one script you have yourself taking a bite while in bed, then having a screaming orgasm. Want to start there?”
She blushed. “Um...let’s start with something tamer, shall we? I think I need to work up to that.”
“Okay,” he said, flipping through script pages. “Well, that thing you were just doing there was pretty close to what you’ve got here. But at the end you’ve got to call to your husband and tell him to—and I quote—‘Get in here and take care of business.’”
“Right,” she said, a worried look on her face. “That seemed like a much better idea when someone else was doing it, but what the hell? I said I wanted this to seem sexy and real and kind of funny, right? I can do funny sexy stuff. I’m almost sure of it.”
“Based on what I just saw, I have absolute faith in you,” he said. “Let’s give it a try. Ready?”
“Just a minute,” she said, and paused to plump her hair and her breasts. “How’s my lipstick?”
“It’s...fine,” he said, although it took everything he had to tear his eyes from her chest.
“Good. Let’s do it.”
He nodded and began the countdown. “Three, two, one...action!”
At his signal she began he
r routine with the spoon again. But this time she added in strategic little whimpers and moans.
Mark felt himself growing hotter and harder as the seconds ticked by. Just when he thought he couldn’t take it anymore, she sat straight up in bed.
“David!” she shouted. “Turn off the TV and get in here. I need you to take care of some business!”
The last part was said with a comically suggestive waggle of her eyebrows and Mark just barely managed to shut the camera off before giving in to the gut-deep laughter that was begging for release. “Oh. My. God,” he said between laughs. “Did you have to use David’s name?”
“You’re darn right I did,” she said. “Revenge is sweet.” But she was smiling as she said it, and soon she was laughing, too.
Mark collapsed on the bed next to her and she let herself sag against him, still giggling. They sat like that for what felt like forever. As soon as one stopped laughing, the other would erupt in a contagious peal and they’d both be off again.
At long last the laughing fit ended and they sat, gasping, trying to catch their breath.
Mark looked in her sparkling green eyes and felt something shift way down deep in his stomach. He’d never met a woman he could laugh like that with before.
Refusing to put a name to the emotion that threatened to make itself known, he kissed her forehead. “I really did miss you, Gorgeous Girl. You’re one funny lady.”
She jerked back, anger suddenly sparking in her eyes. “Well, I’m glad I can make you laugh, if nothing else,” she said.
Whoa. He wasn’t sure what he had said that was so wrong, but he definitely wished he hadn’t said it. Time to get back to business.
“All righty, then. I guess we should move on, huh?”
“Give me just a minute to change into the next outfit,” she said, and clacked angrily out of the room.
Mark took a deep breath. One sexy scene down, three to go. It was going to be a hell of a long night.
* * *
Becky slathered on one last coat of crimson lipstick. They were down to the last scene. The faked orgasm scene. The one she was least sure she could pull off.
