Take the Leap

by April Fire

  I had been watching her work, as usual, but keeping my distance so she didn’t have any other reason to get mad at me for distracting her or getting in her way. And it really seemed like she was pushing herself a little too far, too fast. I knew she was good and that if anyone had complete control over themselves, it was her, but I couldn’t help but worry as she seemed intent on throwing herself into more and more dangerous stunts with less and less safety gear. And, of course, if she suggested it, the director was going to let her go ahead with it, because it made his job easier even if it made hers more dangerous. I wondered if I should intervene and say something, because some of the shit she was pulling off should have been off the table for any stunt performer no matter how experienced, but I knew she would bite my head off if I dared interfere with any of her work. In fact, some of the shit she was doing felt designed to get me to sit up and take notice and to worry about her. To remind me that she was more than capable of looking after herself. As if I needed reminding.

  I was hanging out on set, knowing I should have long-since headed back to the apartment I was renting in town, but not able to drag my eyes away from Tennessee. It was a blazing hot day, the sun high in the sky and beating down on the sweltering crew, when Julia approached me again.

  She was a sweet girl, there was no arguing with that, but I just didn’t see her in that way. Not after the kiss I shared with Tennessee. Hell, it was hard to acknowledge that any other woman in the world existed when she was right there, hot as hell and completely and pointedly paying no attention to me. Still, Julia was destined for big things, so I figured keeping her on my good side would only work in my favor in the future.

  “Hey,” she greeted me coyly.

  “Hi,” I replied, smiling at her, and she nodded in the direction of… well, of away from here.

  “We’re all going for a drink in a little bit.” She caught a strand of hair and twirled it around her finger. “You want to come with us?”

  “Yeah, I don’t see why not,” I shrugged. “Where are you going?”

  “You’ll see.” She flashed me a grin, and I had this odd sinking feeling in my stomach that I wasn’t going to like what she had to reveal to me yet.

  We finished up and headed over to this mysterious bar that Julia was being so reticent about – it was a regular old dive, the kind that I had darkened the doorstep of dozens of times over the years, but I guessed for someone with her kind of status a place like this actually was kind of deviant and crazy. I headed over to the bar and ordered myself a drink – and, of course, that’s when I laid eyes on her.

  Of course she was here. Where else would she be? Because it seemed like however hard she tried to escape my presence, we just couldn’t get out from under each other’s feet. She was wearing the clothes she’d been working in, her hair still pulled back, and her face scrubbed clean of the stage make-up she’d had to wear for the shoot. She wasn’t here to impress anyone or play bimbo to some guy’s ego – she was here to drink. And, as she raised her eyes to meet mine, I could see that me turning up to disrupt that hadn’t exactly been part of the plan. She was drinking a scotch on the rocks – she had usually stuck to light beers or cheap wine when I’d known her, but since then it was clear that her tastes had moved towards the stronger stuff. She rolled her eyes as soon as she saw me, and shifted so that her back was aimed in my direction. I stared at her for a moment, wondering how in the hell we could have gotten this far from each other – especially after the kiss we’d shared only a few days before.

  Julia appeared behind me, touching her small hand to my waist to get my attention; I turned around, my gaze still half-on Tennessee.

  “Hey, what’s up?” I asked, a little irritated. It wasn’t that I didn’t like Julia, but my head wasn’t in the right place to humor her right then and there.

  “Could you get me another drink?” she asked sweetly, smiling at me expectantly. “I spilled my last one…”

  I looked over at the group we had come with, giggling as they attempted to mop up the vodka-seltzer that Julia had knocked over, and realized with a heavy heart just how much younger they all were than me. Not that I was especially old, but these were all kids at the start of their careers, goofing off and having a good time, while I was standing at this bar with the weight of the last ten years hanging heavy on me wanting nothing more than a strong drink and an early night so I could heal up for work tomorrow. I sighed and looked back at Julia.

  “Sure,” I nodded, and the bartender appeared to serve us as soon as he laid eyes on Julia. She fluttered her lashes at him and he grinned dopily back, and soon enough we were both holding our drinks and Julia was looking up at me expectantly.

  “You coming?” she asked, frowning slightly as she seemed to notice me standing stock-still next to the bar. I shrugged.

  “I’ll catch up with you,” I replied, waving my free hand. “Give me a minute.”

  She nodded, apparently satisfied with my answer, and headed back over to join her friends. The bar was starting to get a little busier now and I was confident that I could slip into the background in no time and pretend that the two of us had just gotten split up by accident. I looked back over at Tennessee, who had been watching the little story unfold. She raised her eyebrows at me, a flash of amusement on her face, and I made my way around the bar to join her.

  She eyed me as I approached, looking unimpressed by my presence, but I wasn’t here to spend the night with her. No, I just wanted some company from someone who was actually my own age for a change, instead of kicking back with those kids at the booth at the other end of the room. She greeted me with a cocked eyebrow and shifted her seat a little to the right to give me space to pull in a stool.

  “How very accommodating of you,” I remarked, narrowing my eyes at her. “What’s your game, huh?”

  “I’m just trying to take the bullet that you had aimed at Julia,” she replied coolly. “She’s a bit young for you, don’t you think?”

  “She’s a grown-ass adult who can make her own decisions,” I snapped back, irritated. But then I had to concede the point. “But yeah, she is,” I admitted. “At least, she seems it. When did we get so old, Tennessee?”

  “Speak for yourself,” she snorted. “I’m still sprightly. You’re the one heading into your old age.”

  “And you’re the one drinking scotch on an evening after work,” I pointed out, gesturing to her drink. She finished it up in one gulp and raised her eyebrows at me, daring me to comment. The bartender hurried over to refresh her drink and she flashed him a grateful smile; he smiled back, obviously completely at her beck and call. I felt a jolt of jealousy at their interaction. We were the ones with a history, and here this guy was sliding in like he had some sort of claim to her? She took another sip of her drink, eyeing the bartender as he walked away, and I realized with a sinking heart that he might not have had a claim to her, but I sure as hell didn’t either. No-one did.

  “You’re still drinking beer,” she remarked after the long silence, and I was pulled from my head and back into the conversation at hand.

  “What?”

  “You’re still drinking beer,” she gestured with her glass to the bottle in my hand. “Thought you might have graduated on to something a little stiffer since I last saw you.”

  “Yeah, spirits mess with my recovery time,” I protested. “I need to be in the best physical form -”

  “Bullshit,” she cut across me, half-laughing. “I do the same job as you, remember. You can’t pull that shit on me.”

  “Fair point,” I replied. “I just hate the taste of hard liquor.”

  “See, was it so hard to be honest?” she teased, but there was a sudden edge to her voice that told me that she was taking this seriously, deadly seriously, that she had flashed back to the last time I had misled her – to when we had lived in that tiny little apartment together and I had led her to believe that I was actually going to stick around, right before I walked out of there and left her to fe
nd for herself once more. I wondered if she was ever going to let it go. I wondered if she had a right to hold on to it forever. I could hold a hell of a grudge, and that was without anyone ever pulling something that pointedly shitty on me over the course of my life.

  She took another sip on her scotch and glowered at the sticky bar top in front of us. I was caught between a bunch of kids who made me feel geriatric, and an ex who hated my guts. It was going to be a long night.

  Chapter Six

  Tennessee

  As I stepped out into the cool night once more, I tried to remember how long it had been since I walked into that bar in the first place. Three hours? Four? All I knew was that I had drunk a good amount of whiskey and I was getting just a little fuzzy around the edges. I blinked a couple of times, bringing the world back into focus – and heard the door open behind me once more.

  It could have been anyone coming out – someone just finished up with their night after a long evening of drinking and talking and blowing off steam. But somehow, I knew exactly who it was without having to so much as glance over my shoulder.

  “Dominic?” I asked quietly, hoping that I was wrong. But of course, I wasn’t.

  “Tennessee,” he greeted me, his voice equally soft. And it could have been the cold air out there, but a shiver ran down the length of my spine as I turned, slowly, to face him.

  I hadn’t expected to run into him and his little entourage at this bar. After all, it was kind of a dive, sticky around the edges and far from the classy joint I expected people like Julia to frequent. Nonetheless, there he was – finding me across the room and telling me how old he felt and looking at me with a mixture of sadness and his usual cocky flirtatiousness. I knew how he felt. There was something about being around people like that that left me struggling for words, trying to find something that we could relate to each other over, and usually failing dismally. But that didn’t mean I was just going to act as his fall-back because he was feeling old. I left while he was in the bathroom, not caring for any awkward goodbyes.

  We didn’t talk about anything that mattered, but it felt like we were dancing around the central point that neither of us wanted to address face-on. The kiss. The memory of it was still fresh in my brain, no matter how hard I tried to scrub myself clean of it, and the more whiskey I drank the further I fell into those dangerous thoughts of well, what harm would one more do now that we’ve started…? Because part of what had been putting me off was the thought that things couldn’t possibly be as good between us as they had once been, but that kiss, that kiss had proved a point that I hadn’t realized I had been debating in my own head.

  And now, here we were, standing outside the bar, just the two of us on that street that was oddly devoid of anyone else. I could have just turned and started the walk back to my apartment, put some distance between him and me, but I didn’t want to do that. I didn’t want to do that so badly that I found my feet pinned to the ground as I slowly swiveled on the spot, face to face with him once more.

  “Tennessee…” he murmured, and hearing my name on his lips sent a jolt of desire through my system. I swallowed and closed my eyes. I should just go. I should just get out of there. But the booze and his presence and the fact that he’d chosen to spend the night with me over Julia…

  I met his gaze slowly, just like I had in the mirror back in that dressing room. There was a heat behind his eyes, something fiery and promising, and I knew that I didn’t have it in me to stop whatever was about to happen. I didn’t want to stop it. I needed it. For a moment, it felt like no time had passed at all, the two of us just as young, dumb, and in love as we had ever been, fleeing a bar after a night on the town with our friends so we could go home and fuck and lie in bed and talk until the sun rose. I missed those days so badly sometimes it felt like a physical ache in my chest, but right then, right there, I could pretend for a moment that they had never gone away. And I would take that chance while I still could.

  He moved first – at least, I think he did. All I knew for sure was that we collided outside that bar, our hands reaching for each other and our mouths already hungry to taste what we had spent so long denying. He tasted exactly like he had back in the dressing room, but more so, as if he’d been concentrated down to the perfect amount of him. Our tongues met and his hand slid down to cup my ass, and I arched my back to press my body against him. I had no idea where this was going but I knew for damn certain that I didn’t want it to stop.

  “Here,” he panted into my ear urgently, pulling me down a dark side alley that ran down the length of the bar we’d just left. He pressed me up against the wall and I wrapped my arms around his neck, moaning softly against his lips and losing myself to the sweet, intoxicating scent of him. I wasn’t sure what had me drunker, the scotch or the feel of his hands traveling all over my body, as though he was hurriedly committing every inch to memory while he still had the chance. I grabbed his head, holding him in place, determined to never let him go if I could get away with it. I didn’t care that we were down the back of some grubby dark alley in the middle of the city – for that moment, then and there, nothing mattered but how good his body felt against mine and how desperate I was for more.

  I could feel him growing hard through his pants, and I lifted my leg and hooked it around him to pull him in closer, so I could grind up against his cock and find some relief of my own. I knew if we got caught like this, there would be trouble – but that was half the fun of it. We had both gotten into a profession that required us to put our lives on the line day in and day out, and a little public heavy petting wasn’t going to put us off now.

  His hand slid from my ass to the front of my pants, pulling deftly at the buttons and slipping his hand beneath the denim. I gasped and grabbed hold of him, clinging to him for support. I dug my nails into his back, distantly aware of the sounds still coming from inside the bar. Only a few feet away, there were dozens of people enjoying their night out with a few drinks, and here I was, trying to cry out with pleasure as he cupped my pussy through my panties.

  “I’ve wanted to do this since I saw you on set for the first time,” he murmured in my ear, and I groaned and lifted my lips and tried to find the words to demand that he take this further. But they were gone; my entire vocabulary had dropped straight out of my head as he slowly pulled my panties aside and pressed his fingers lightly against my clit. I let out a small cry of pleasure and he kissed me once more to keep me quiet. I loved the way he kissed me – slow and unhurried despite what he was doing between my legs, like he wanted to savor me as best he could. I ran my fingernails through his hair and down his neck, scratching down his back, forcing all the frustration and pleasure and desire into a long, hard claw along his skin. His fingers dipped downward, into my slit, and I realized that I was already soaking. How long had my body been anticipating this? Longer than my brain had? He slipped his index finger all the way into me in one smooth motion, and any other thoughts seemed to drop straight out of the back of my head. I didn’t think he could be better than before, but he was even more deft, his movements even more confident. He brushed his lips along my jaw and caught my earlobe between his teeth, tugging gently, and my head spun with need for him.

  “I want to make you come,” he breathed in my ear, and I flattened my hand against the wall above me for support. He was a man now, a real man – far from the playful boy I’d spent all those heady summer days with back when we were training together. The way he touched me, the half-growl in his voice, the confidence in every motion he made… this was so different than anything I remembered, but so, so good. Better. Better than anything or anyone I’d ever been with before. Or maybe that was just the whiskey talking.

  He shifted his hand, tilting it so that he could stroke my clit with his thumb as he pushed two fingers into my pussy and pulled them so they were in a come-hither motion directly against my g-spot. I gritted my teeth. This was torture. I wanted to scream out in pleasure, let everyone in the bar next to us hear jus
t how close I was to coming, but I knew I had to keep my mouth shut if we didn’t want to end up in a big heap of trouble. At that point, any logical thought had all but vanished from my head, and it was only his hot breath against my neck that was keeping me tethered to the real world right then. All I could focus on was the rhythmic pace of his fingers, the swell of his chest against mine as he panted harshly against me, the strength of his other hand on my lower back keeping me standing despite my buckling legs. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else could.

  “Fuck,” I gasped, pressing my forehead into his shoulder. I gritted my teeth, knowing how close I was, grinding into his hand hungrily, over and over again -

  And then it hit me. I was glad he had his arms around me, because if he hadn’t, I would have fallen to the ground right in the middle of that sketchy back-alley. My pussy clenched around his fingers, my clit pulsing hard, and a flash of tingles passed over my scalp and ran down my back as the orgasm swept through me. He turned his head to kiss me once more, covering the moans and groans of pleasure that shuddered through me. Our tongues met once more, mine weaker and with less intent that before – and suddenly, what we’d just done began to sink in.