The Stuntman

by Maggie Carpenter

  “I don’t have to,” she said softly.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I could call in. I haven’t had a personal day in eons.”

  “Would that be okay? I mean, it would be such short notice.”

  “Honestly, I don’t care. I’m so tired of that place, and dammit, if I want a day I’m going to take one. Besides, I’ve covered for so many people they owe me.”

  “That’s great, but are you sure?” he asked delighted at the prospect of spending the day with her.

  “Let’s see. Go to work, deal with drama, get run off my feet, then go home bone tired with a headache, or stay here in this amazing place with this incredibly sexy guy and do fun things and relax all day. Hmmm, that is a tough call.”

  “Like I said before, you’re such a cheeky girl.”

  “I need to get my cellphone and call in,” she smiled, and slipping from the bed she padded across to her bag.

  “Hurry back,” he said as she took her phone into the bathroom, then yawning again he closed his eyes.

  Man, I’m beat, but I’m glad she’s staying. Maybe we can go for a hike later. No, that won’t work. The trails will be mud.

  “Everything all right?” he asked as she returned to the room, dropping her phone back in her bag on the way to the bed.

  “Yep, but I have to call Dr. Davis later and let him know I need more time to consider that offer,” she replied as she climbed in next to him. “You still look tired. Do you need to sleep some more?”

  “I think so. Yesterday was grueling”

  “Works for me,” she said curling closer to him.

  “I’m glad you’re staying,” he mumbled. “Tomorrow I start a tough three days. I probably won’t be able to see you.”

  “Bummer,” she mumbled, realizing not seeing him for several days was not okay.

  They dozed off and on for an hour or so, until Blake’s phone woke him up a second time.

  “You’re so popular,” Belinda muttered as he reached across to answer it.

  “I’m going to pull the damn thing out of the wall soon,” he grumbled, “but I guess it’s time to get up. Hello?”

  “Blake, it’s Harry.”

  “Harry, what’s up?”

  “I have some folks ready to meet you. I need to know when you’ll be available.”

  “Not for the next few days. The schedule’s been changed. We’ll be filming all the interior action. Falling down the stairs, shooting people, you know, the usual stuff that happens inside mansions. It’s going to be crazy.”

  “Darn. Will you please let me know when you have a break? These are important interviews. You’ll be reading for Carnivore.”

  “Do you mean for a specific part, or is it a general meeting?”

  “They want to consider you for the lead. Physically you’re perfect, but even if you don’t get that role, the entire cast will be tough guys, so I think there’s a good chance you could be a regular regardless.”

  “Okay. I’ll see if I can get out for an hour somewhere, and thanks.”

  Hanging up the phone, Blake propped his pillows behind him and leaned back against the headboard.

  “Is everything all right?” she asked seeing the frown on his face.

  “That was my agent. He’s got those meetings waiting. You know, for the acting gigs. I’m in two minds about it.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m a stuntman. I love what I do. I’m not an actor. I could be, I know I can do it, I’m just not sure I want to.”

  “Didn’t you say you needed to start thinking about the future, about possibly getting out of stunt work?”

  “Yeah, but if I push hard enough I’m sure I can break into the bigger budget features as a coordinator and leave the stunts behind, I’m sure I can. Acting though, I just...”

  “Your heart’s not in it,” she said finishing his thought.

  “Not really. I know Harry’s right though. There’s a new show, it’s an action-adventure set in a jungle, based loosely on Predator. It’s called Carnivore. I think it would have a ton of minor stunt work, so I could keep my hand in even if I did land a role.”

  “Sounds like the best of both worlds,” she smiled, and I’d feel so much better if I knew you weren’t risking your neck every day.

  “I love my life,” he sighed. “An actor’s life is different.”

  “You don’t have any parts yet,” she said softly. “Why don’t you take the interviews, and then see how you feel if you’re offered something?”

  “Aren’t you a clever girl?” he grinned. “That is excellent advice. That’s exactly what I’ll do. Are you hungry? I just had a thought. There’s a restaurant up here called, The Grotto. I’d like to take you there for breakfast, though I guess it’s closer to lunch. Interested?”

  “Sounds wonderful,” she beamed.

  “Let’s go take a shower. I have visions of soaping you from head to foot,” he declared climbing from the bed and grabbing her hand.

  A few minutes later, with the hot water streaming over their bodies, he kept his promise. Using a thick, wide sponge filled with scented bath gel, he made her stand with her back against the tiled wall as he washed her down, then turning her around, he began moving the sponge across her shoulders.

  Belinda had shared a shower before, but she’d never had a man clean her body with such loving attention. As he’d washed her breasts, he’d moved her wet hair off her neck and leisurely devoured her neck, and when he’d moved the sponge between her legs, he’d pinned her wrists above her head and kissed her with a slow, purposeful kiss, and as he stood behind her, running the sponge down her back, she thrust out her bottom.

  “What are you asking for?” he murmured in her ear.

  “Nothing,” she whispered, “I’m not sure.”

  “Those are two different answers,” he mumbled as he slid the sponge between her cheeks.

  She gasped at the intimate attention, but when his other hand lightly slapped her then slithered inside her sex, her gasps became soft moans.

  “You have so much to learn,” he crooned as his smacks ticked up, landing with a serious sting, “and I am going to love teaching you.”

  His softly spoken promise and spanking hand cloaked her in longing, and impulsively she turned, flinging her arms around him and pressing her body against his.

  “I want you,” she murmured.

  “Ooh, naughty girl,” he breathed dropping the sponge so he could hold her tightly and land a hard swat. “I wasn’t finished.”

  “I was,” she quipped, and reaching down she grabbed his swollen cock and began to rub.

  “Belinda,” he groaned, “you are in so much trouble.”

  “Mmm, I’m really scared,” she muttered impudently as her hand slid up and down his shaft.

  “You should be, little girl,” he growled sensing the promise of his climax.

  His comment fueled her need, and feeling a fresh wave of slick moisture between her legs, she pressed her lips to his, pushing her tongue between his teeth.

  “Touch me, I need you to touch me,” she quivered as she pulled back.

  “Mmm, I’ll just bet you do,” he mumbled moving his fingers to toy with her clit.

  His cock was aching for her cunt, and he grabbed her around the waist, shuffled them backwards, and sat on the bench seat.

  “Close your eyes, spread your legs, and let me guide you down,” he said firmly.

  Moving her hands to his shoulders, she squeezed her eyes shut and waited. She could feel him slightly moving, but still he kept her at bay.

  “Blake?” she murmured.

  “Hush. I’ll lower you down when I’m ready. You’re impetuous. It’s time you learned some patience.”

  “Ooh, but must it be like this?” she mewled.

  “This is just one way,” he purred as he put his hands around her waist. “Come on now, sit on my cock.”

  Letting out a deep sigh she sank on to him, but he stopped her before he was tota
lly impaled, then holding her still he thrust upwards.

  “Blake,” she trembled, “oh, Blake, that’s amazing.”

  He continued with steady, robust strokes, then held her still and locked her eyes.

  “Don’t move,” he growled, then wrapped his mouth around her nipples to suck and nibble.

  Wanting to ride him as he consumed her breasts she began wriggling, but he was holding her too tightly, so she tried rubbing herself against him.

  “Please let me,” she begged. “Please.”

  “Be still,” he said sternly, slapping her backside.

  “It’s so hard not to move, I’m so close,” she whimpered.

  “I won’t let you come at all if you don’t behave.”

  “Ooh, no, don’t say that,” she bleated.

  “You’ll learn or suffer the consequences,” he warned gazing up at her. “Will you be still?”

  “Yes,” she promised, “I’ll be still.”

  “Good girl.”

  His praise filled her heart and she arched her back, presenting her tits to show her compliance. Lifting his hands he gripped them firmly, molding and squeezing, and taking his time, mouthing and tonguing, he prolonged the attention until her moans became mewling cries of frustration. Only then did he grasp her waist, slowly lift her, and return to his pumping.

  “Thank you,” she whispered clutching his shoulders, “ooh, thank you.”

  Her orgasm was hovering, and with each strong, powerful thrust she could feel it growing closer. He began to accelerate, and on an impulse she dropped her finger to her clit to chase the moment, and unexpectedly she felt it.

  “Blake,” she gasped, “please may I come.”

  “Yes, yes,” he groaned, “right now.”

  The spasm swept her up, shooting sparks through her body, and as she surrendered to the shuddering climax she could hear his deep groans. Lost in the moment she rocked on his lap, until finally spent, her body limp, she fell against him. His arms were around her, and as he breathlessly kissed her neck she felt him slip out, then suddenly it hit her. No condom.

  “Blake,” she said breathlessly, “you weren’t wearing protection.”

  “Of course I was,” he panted as she slipped from his lap. “You never have to worry about that.”

  “I don’t understand. I didn’t feel anything when I took hold of you.”

  “I slipped it on when you were standing over me. I left one in here last night. I’d already planned to jump on your bones in here this morning.”

  “You are way too sneaky,” she mumbled leaning against him.

  “Oh, sweetheart,” he muttered putting an arm around her, “you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  When Blake had suggested riding his motorbike to the restaurant, Belinda had eagerly agreed, though she’d needed to borrow a pair of his sister’s jeans and a sweater. The clothes were slightly too big, but he had several motorcycle jackets in different sizes, one of which fitted her perfectly.

  With her arms clinging around his waist he’d zipped the bike around the twists and turns of the canyon road, and she’d been thrilled by the ride. It had been years since she’d been on the back of a motorcycle, and as he pulled in front of the restaurant and slowed to a stop, she noticed several other bikes resting under the trees.

  “Is this a biker’s hangout?” she asked as she pulled off her helmet.

  “Only on the weekends,” he replied, “then it’s bustling here.”

  As they walked inside Blake was greeted with waves from several diners already seated, and a middle-aged woman with a generous bust hurried across the room and hugged him.

  “Our hero,” she exclaimed. “We are all so proud of you. Lunch is on me.”

  “Janice, please,” he said disentangling her. “It was no big deal.”

  “You saved that old woman,” she protested. “What do you mean, no big deal? Hi, honey,” she said turning to Belinda. “I’m Janice.”

  “Hi, Janice, I’m Belinda.”

  “Janice is the proud owner of this delightful place, and she has a flair for the dramatic,” Blake declared.

  “I do not,” Janice retorted. “I was stating the obvious, and if I want to be proud of you, then dammit, I’ll be proud of you. Now come and sit down and let me feed you. Lunch is on me.”

  She led them across to a booth by a window, and as she handed them the menus, Blake took her hand.

  “Janice, I’m paying for this,” he said firmly.

  “Nope, not today, your money’s no good today,” she declared. “Mac’s made some black walnut waffles if you’re interested. Man they’re good. I’ll be back with coffee. You want coffee too, hon?” she asked Belinda.

  “Sure. That sounds great.”

  As she moved back to the counter and disappeared behind some swinging doors, Blake shook his head, a dark frown on his face.

  “What’s the matter?” Belinda asked.

  “She doesn’t make much money here, and she works her ass off. I want to pay. It’s not right.”

  “Can’t you just leave the money in the tip jar on the counter over there?”

  Blake looked across the room at the large jar filled with dollar bills.

  “You’re a genius,” he smiled. “Why didn’t I think of that? That’s twice you’ve given me great advice. Thanks.”

  “So, Blake,” she began tentatively, “I got the feeling you didn’t want to talk about it so I haven’t asked for details, but can you tell me what happened with that mugger? I really am very curious.”

  “Like I said to Janice, it was no big deal.”

  “Indulge me, please, I want to know. Please?”

  “How can I say no to a puppy dog look like that?” he sighed. “I’ll bet you wrapped your dad around your little finger.”

  “Kind of,” she giggled. “So tell me.”

  “Fine, but like I said, it was nothing. I saw this creep threatening an old lady and I stepped in. If he’d had a gun it would have been a scary situation, but he was holding a ridiculously short knife. I just crept up behind him and caught him by surprise. He was a punk. I’m a martial arts guy, I know how to take care of myself. It was piece of cake, a total no-brainer. I could have done it with my eyes closed.”

  “You just made my toes curl,” she whispered.

  “I’ll make your toes curl later today,” he promised lowering his voice. “I’ve got something very special in mind for you.”

  “You do? What? Why?”

  “You’ll have to wait and see, the why is because you were such a naughty girl in the shower this morning.”

  “I was? No, I wasn’t,” she protested.

  “Perfect timing,” he grinned. “Here comes our coffee.”

  “There you go,” Nancy declared placing a thermos and two mugs on the table. “Have you decided what you want?”

  “I’ll try those waffles,” Belinda declared.

  “You know what I want,” Blake declared.

  “You got it,” Janice smiled taking the menus from their hands.

  “Do you always get the same thing?” Belinda asked.

  “During the day, most of the time. Scrambled eggs with cheese, bacon, green peppers and tomatoes, hash browns and toast.”

  “That’s a lot of food.”

  “I burn up calories fast and it keeps me going, besides, like I said, I’ve got something planned and I’ll need the energy.”

  “You’re driving me crazy,” she exclaimed rolling her eyes.

  “Good, step one complete. I meant to ask you earlier, what time do you have to be at the hospital tomorrow?”

  “Same as usual, two o’clock. What about you? When do you need to report for duty?”

  “I don’t know yet. Probably early though. I’d guess around seven.”

  “Ouch. So I should go home tonight?”

  “Let’s play it by ear, see how the day pans out, but from where I’m sitting, you don’t have to go anywhere, not unless you wan
t to.”

  “No, no, not at all,” she said quickly. “I just don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

  “Belinda,” he said softly, “I don’t see that happening.”

  She felt a warm blush, and stretching across the table she kissed him on the cheek.

  “Good answer.”

  “It was a truthful answer,” he smiled, and did I just ask her to stay over again. Huh. I did. Interesting.

  “What exactly will you be doing during the next three days?” she asked as she settled back down. “Did I hear you say you were falling down stairs?”

  “Yep, not my favorite thing in the world. There’s a ton of action that takes place inside a mansion. I’ll also be pushed off a mezzanine on to a marble floor.”

  “What?”

  “It’s not as bad as it sounds, I promise.”

  “Good grief, don’t tell me anymore. I think I’m better off not knowing.”

  “When we get home there’ll probably be some emails waiting for me. I’ll have to deal with them, make some calls. Can you entertain yourself while I’m doing that?”

  “Of course. I’ll call Dr. Davis and see if he can put me in touch with some private nurses so I can talk to them, and I’ll track down some agencies, get a feel for that side of things. I think I can buy a couple more days, but the patient will be leaving the hospital fairly soon. I can’t take forever to make up my mind.”

  “I know you want to do it,” Blake remarked tilting his head to one side.

  “I do,” she admitted. “It’s time for a change, and I think this is it.”

  Janice delivered their meal, and as they ate, Belinda quizzed him about the entertainment business, laughing at his anecdotes, and holding her breath when he described some of the hair-raising sights he’d witnessed. It was another world, one that she found captivating.

  “You’ve seen and done so much,” she sighed.

  “Not really. What you do is important. What I do is just crash cars and pretend to fight.”

  When they finally finished their meal and stood up to leave, he hurried away to drop a fifty-dollar bill in the tip jar. Waiting for him, she gazed at his tall frame, his thick wavy hair, and the way he moved; everything about him was making her tingle.

  I will not mess this up. His stunt work still scares me, but he’s a total dreamboat. I hope he feels the same about me. He invited me to stay another night. That’s something.