“Yes. Naturally.”
Cleo cleared her throat. “You also mentioned giving them a chance to try acting with us. If it’s a small group—how many students, do you think?”
“There are over sixty in the play, counting extras. But we’ll select the ten main actors to participate in this activity. If you agree ten is acceptable.”
Axel nodded.
“I’d be willing to spend a day reading lines with them,” Cleo offered, speaking to both Axel and Monica. “Maybe each student could get fifteen minutes with me, or another actor. We could even do lines from the play they’re doing. Give them a chance to get feedback from a professional actor and director.” She gestured at Axel. “Oh, I mean, if you’re up for that, of course.”
“I like it,” Axel said. “Get our main leads to work directly with the kids. We’ll have to get a few volunteers and break it up. All ten in one day would be overkill. But it’s a good idea, if we spread it out and manage it properly.” He smiled at Cleo, and she felt her cheeks get pink. “Let’s do it.” He turned to Monica. “Want to write that into the summary?”
“Absolutely! And I’m sorry we can’t pay you,” said Monica with a rueful smile. “But we’d support you where we could. I know that all of the students and their parents would probably come see your play. And word of mouth advertising, we’d do as much of that as we could. Put up flyers for your next play. And I’m sure karma will provide.”
Cleo asked, “Axel, what exactly is the next play? You said it was appropriate for high school students, right?”
Axel laughed. “It’s a work by Simona Chooch. One of Chicago’s most talented playwrights. It’s called Empty Spaces, and it deals with what’s missing in our modern society in this age of political turmoil. Very liberal, provocative from a philosophical standpoint—but no adult content that’s inappropriate for teens to view.”
Cleo smiled. “I just wanted to be sure. Because the current play? Very adult content.” She made a fake grimace and raised her eyebrows at Monica.
Monica laughed too. “Yes, Axel and I talked about that on the phone. I’ll probably go see it myself, though,” she added with a mischievous smile.
After some more discussion, Monica stood up and tapped her folder. “Oh, I just want to print out that last form for you. Do you mind waiting just a few minutes while I grab that?”
Alone now, across from Axel, Cleo fell silent. With Monica gone, just the two of them, it felt more intimate now, sitting across from him, so close. The lights above made a faint hum, and the hallway outside the door was long and still, disappearing into a vantage point of lockers and wall posters for an upcoming dance.
The room was bright and close, the smallness of it making her feel like they were pressed together, in a way, even though they weren’t touching at all. But the white lights, flickering at a speed undecipherable to the eye, the stillness of the air, the way their voices came out muted, with no echo at all—this made her feel like they were in a cave, hibernating; in a place together away from all humanity. Just the two of them, raw and intimate.
He leaned in across the flimsy table, and the vibrations from his movement travelled into her hands, sparking a reaction in her belly. She could see the stubble on his jaw, the very faint smile wrinkles at the side of his mouth. Looking at his face this close was fascinating, like learning by heart a poem you loved; a role that you felt was already in you, something you’d read before as a child, or seen in a dream. Something new that wasn’t new at all.
“I’m glad you came today,” he said.
“Me too.” She leaned in, folding her arms on the table in front of her.
“Thanks for volunteering,” he said. “I love your idea about acting with the students. I didn’t even consider that. It’s a great addition.”
“I just want to help. Make up for being, you know, sort of a diva on this play. That’s not me, Axel. That’s never been me, and I just want you to know that usually I’m cool. Helpful.”
“Cleo, I get that.” He smiled. “I know.”
“Good.” She paused. “But seriously. I just want to be clear. It was an aberration.” She tapped her finger on the table. “Okay?” She checked his face to make sure he was being honest with her.
It seemed that he was. “Noted. I promise. You don’t need to bring it up again. Seriously.” He almost sounded annoyed.
She put up her hand. “Okay. Got it. Thanks.” She smiled, but then her eyes widened. “I just realized that I don’t have a contract for the next play—I mean, you never asked me even to audition when it’s time. I guess,” she felt like she was babbling, “I can come help out even if I’m not officially employed at that time, by you. For a play.”
“Relax. Cleo, no.” He reached out and put a hand on her arm. “Of course I want you in my next play, if you want a role, that is. You’ll audition, of course, but I can’t imagine that you won’t—that I’d find someone better. There’s a part in there that I think you’d kill.” He paused and added quickly, “I mean, if you don’t decide to look elsewhere for your next role. Of course.” He cleared his throat and tapped his fingers on the tabletop, and she thought he looked a little nervous.
She unfolded her arms, butterflies out of a cocoon. “Really? Axel. That’s—that’s an honor, for me. I—thank you.”
“You’re a good actor, Cleo.” His voice was low, but firm. “Please understand that I want you back because you’re good. I’m not asking you because of anything we do or don’t do, understand?” He raised an eyebrow.
“No, of course I’d never think that about you. Thank you.” She hesitated, then plunged in. “So when you said, what we do or don’t do. What exactly do you mean?”
He didn’t speak for a moment, then he said, “Nothing we do outside of work will ever affect your job with me as an actor.” He wasn’t being outright sexy, but there was a look in his eye that made her suddenly feel weak and hot.
“Good to know. I’ll keep that in mind, Axel.”
“You do that.” He nodded at her, and his stern look made her melt. “And remember what I said about asking for what you want.” He raised an eyebrow.
“Who said I want anything?” She shrugged and a sly smile spread across her face. “Maybe I’m perfectly content as I am.” She threw her arms out, a question. But it was also a request, and he heard it; she could see it in the way his expression changed. The way his eyes flared.
She moved her hand to gesture, and accidentally knocked one of Monica’s papers to the floor. They both watched as it drifted down, a snowflake, slow and soft. When it landed, she got up and bent over in a way that was guaranteed to show Axel her ass, and she took a second longer than necessary to grab it, hoping he was watching and wanting her.
And she knew it was inappropriate, and maybe she shouldn’t be saying it, but when she sat back down, she lowered her voice and licked her lips. “Maybe I don’t need a thing.” She opened and re-crossed her legs, deliberately, and thrilled to watch him follow her movement, his face rapt, his body taut. Yes. He wanted her as much as she wanted him, and that idea—that he wanted her, not Chelsea, not his ex, not his hordes of willing fuck buddies—was so thrilling that she could have shouted out her pleasure.
He shifted, and his whole posture changed. With her invitation, she’d opened the door to something further and they both knew it.
“Maybe.” He chuckled. “Maybe you don’t, Cleo.” He leaned in and lowered his voice. “And maybe you want to experience something more. Maybe you want something from this play, but you want it to be real, with you and me as the players instead of Anna and Aaron.”
“And maybe you want to direct a private scene with just the two of us, instead of directing your play,” she countered.
“I’m a very good director,” he murmured. “And you,” he paused for emphasis, “are a very obedient pupil. You take direction quite well, Cleo, when you put your mind to it.” He smiled, but it was a dangerous challenge of a smile. “But remember what I
told you? If you want to obey my orders in a more intimate way, as well, you’re going to need to ask me for it.”
Chapter Seven
“Okay,” she said, her voice full of her own challenge. She tilted her chin. “Okay, Axel. Let’s say I decided to give it a try. Tell me how you’d give me orders. Let’s say…” She scrambled for inspiration. “When we met alone, in your office, when you were mad at me for my tantrum. Tell me what you really wanted to do, instead of scold me and lecture.” She flashed him a bold grin. “Be honest.”
“Oh, Cleo,” he said, laughing and shaking his head. “That would have gone quite differently, I promise you, if we’d had an understanding together.”
She gave him a mock questioning look. “How so? Maybe you’d have apologized for being a dick, and begged me to stay, and told me that I was the best and most powerful person you’d ever met?”
He shook his head, still smiling.
“Maybe… you’d get on your knees and worship me as a goddess, telling me I was your muse, your reason for becoming a director, so you could work with actors like me? You’d tell me that I’d crush your life and your dreams if I ever left you?”
He took her hands in his, and the grip—although not tight—was firm. There was such warmth, heat in his eyes, that she was sure, for a split second, that he was about to say yes, yes, that’s exactly it. Something in his face burned so hot and fierce that she almost caught her breath at the emotion.
But he smiled and said, “You want to find out? Come home with me tonight, give me one night, and I’ll show you. We’ll redo that meeting like I wanted it to go. You game?”
Adrenaline surged through her body and all she wanted, all she needed, was to say yes, God yes, yes please.
“Just one night?” She made her voice light.
“We’re both adults.” He gave a small shrug, still holding her hands. He massaged her thumbs with his. “And if we want to spend some time together, who says we can’t? Cleo, I can’t promise you anything long term, but I will do my damn best to show you everything you want to experience, and make it good for you.”
“Oh, sure, no, I’m not into long term either,” she said immediately, even though something in her felt crushed. “I mean, obviously we’re not meant for, yeah.”
His voice was serious. “Your career is just taking off, and you’re going to travel and see the world and hop around the globe for your art. I’m sure of that, Cleo. I know you have a full-time day job right now, but I am one hundred percent positive that in the very near future, you’re going to have the choice to switch careers to acting, if you choose.” He nodded. “My work is based here, but I travel too. I’ll probably do a Broadway play next year. Neither of us, I’m assuming—at least I’m not available for anything other than short-term enjoyment. And I told you a little bit before, that day in the woods? I don’t do long-term relationships. It’s just not my thing.”
He saw her face and continued, his voice earnest, “But Cleo, short term or not, I honor my partner at all times, understand? If we spend time together, I will take care of you and make sure to respect you. And it will be fucking amazing.”
Then he added, conversationally, as if they were discussing the weather, “Of course, the first item of business would be your punishment for rude behavior. Once that was out of the way, we’d move on to more… pleasurable activities.”
“My—punishment?” Her voice was incredulous. “Why?”
“Why indeed?” he mused. “For all of insults you tossed my way these past weeks. I heard them all, you know. And you’ll pay for each one of them.”
“A swear jar, is that what you mean?” She gave him a saucy smirk, excited beyond words at this new and fascinating game they were starting.
He laughed. “A swear jar! No. You’ll pay in a different way entirely, Cleo.”
“What if I’m not kinky enough for you?” Suddenly unsure, her exuberance was overshadowed with doubt.
“Don’t worry about that.” He sounded confident. “We’ll only do what you want to try.”
“I’m not kinky, though. At all.”
“No?” He raised an eyebrow, smiled.
“No. I’ve never…”
“Never imagined? Never dreamed? Never wished a man would do this…”
He slowly unrolled his sleeves and folded them up. “And caught your breath, looking at his strong hands,” he flexed his fingers, “wondering what they’d feel like on your bare skin?”
His sexy forearms. Her heart stuttered in her chest, like last time. She was sure he was doing it again because he’d noticed how much it turned her on the last time. She swallowed hard.
“No…” she breathed.
“No? I think that’s a lie. And lying earns you a punishment, when we’re together, Cleo. But I believe you like that idea.”
“Why would I like that idea?” she murmured, mesmerized by his dark eyes.
He stood up, came to her side. “Why indeed? Why would it make you full of desire, Cleo? Why does it make your chest rise faster, and your nipples turn hard under your shirt?”
She looked down and gave a small squeak; indeed, her nipples were poking through the thin fabric of her shirt, even through her bra. “Axel.”
“When you bent over, before,” he said, “to pick up those papers? You were showing me your ass, teasing me. Flaunting it. Weren’t you? Tell me the truth.”
All she could do was stare up at him.
He offered her his hand, wordless, and she took it, and he pulled her into his chest. “The truth, Cleo,” he said, letting his lips hover at her neck. “Truth is rewarded.”
“Y-yes!” she managed. “Yes, I was showing you my ass.”
In reply, he closed his mouth over her skin, and she moaned with pleasure at the touch of his lips. “God, Axel.”
He trailed kisses up her jaw and skimmed her breast with one hand, making her jerk in surprise, then push closer to his hand.
“And when you showed me your ass, what did you want me to do?” he whispered.
She tried to push into his hand again, but he held her away. “Truth, Cleo.”
“I wanted…” She paused. “I wanted you to… spank me,” she said, feeling her face redden. “Just a little. Just to see how it felt.”
He palmed her breast with one hand, pulled her into his body with the other, his fingers splayed out across her lower back. “Good girl,” he murmured, then bent down and sucked her nipple through the fabric, and the surge of arousal that he awoke made her cry out. “Oh, God. That feels good.
“Do it again, more,” she demanded, her voice hoarse, and pulled his head to her with both hands, running her fingers through his hair. He complied, and she leaned her head back, enjoying the sensation.
“Who’s in charge now?” she said triumphantly, giving him a look. “It’s me!”
He laughed. “Oh, are you, though?”
“Obviously! I mean, I told you to do something, and you did it. That means I’m in charge.” She paused. “Right?”
“Maybe,” he replied, his eyes glittered, a grin on his face. “I don’t mind a little turnaround now and then, especially if it gets you in the mood, Cleo. Maybe I get a rush out of seeing how far you want to take it.
“And maybe,” he traced a finger on her lips, “I’m going to let you lead so you get so hot that you’re dying for my touch. You’ll be begging me. And it’s then…” He suddenly grabbed her and lifted her to the shaky table, making her squeak with surprise. “Spread your legs. Now. Yeah, like that. Good. It’s only then,” and he ran one hand up her inner thigh, “that I’ll take over, and slow things down, and drive you so insane with your desire that you’ll plead and beg and promise me any damn thing I want just to get your release. And later on, I’ll make you do every fucking one of them, as many times as I want.”
“Axel…” she said. “But it’s still just a game, right?” Her breath came in little gasps, and the passion for him surged through her body.
“T
he most delicious, exotic, dark game in the world. And we make it real. You gonna play?” He whispered into her ear. “My rules. You’ll be submissive to me, and I’ll punish you when you’re disobedient, and you’ll have the best fucking orgasms of your entire life.”
Before she could answer, his lips took her mouth in a passionate kiss, and she wound her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. “God, Axel,” she murmured. All she wanted was for him to strip her down and fuck her right there, right in that conference room.
The room. They were still there, and Monica was on her way back. “Wait, we can’t,” she protested. “Monica is going to come back any minute.”
He gave her one kiss on the mouth, then stepped back, breathing hard. She moved to close her thighs, but he checked her with one hand. “Keep them open.”
“But, Monica?” She looked at the glassy pane, eyes widening.
“I won’t let her see you in a compromising position. But I want you to stay that way until I say so.”
“But why?” The order had her at once even more aroused, and pissed off.
“Because I like the view.” He grinned and pulled the chair so he was sitting right in front of her. “Because I can see that you got wet for me, Cleo. I can see that pretty pussy outlined by your damp panties. And because I like telling you what to do, and having you do it. That’s why.”
She flushed hard and wriggled on the table. “But I want to close them.”
“But you won’t.” His voice was firm. “In fact, because you argued, spread wider and reach down and pull the crotch of your panties to the side so I can see your bare pussy.”
When she hesitated, he demanded, “Right now, Cleo. Or else when I take you home tonight to fuck you, I’m going to spank you extra, and you won’t like that, not on your soft, unpracticed ass. Use your left hand.”
His Firm Direction Page 9
