Sharing Backstage
Paige Paris
Blushing Books
©2017 by Blushing Books® and Paige Parsons
All rights reserved.
No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Published by Blushing Books®,
a subsidiary of
ABCD Graphics and Design
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The trademark Blushing Books®
is registered in the US Patent and Trademark Office.
Paige Parsons
Sharing Backstage
EBook ISBN: 978-1-61258-316-7
Cover Art by ABCD Graphics & Design
This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.
Contents
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Author’s Note
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Glossary of Theatre Terms
Translations
Paige Parsons
EBook Offer
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Author’s Note
Writing Lucas and Harper’s story has been about as joyful and painful as giving birth. They’ve lived and loved in my mind for quite some time, but getting their story on paper was no easy task. They were put on a shelf. They were torn to shreds. They each went through different looks and names, but who they were and how they loved remained, so I pushed through. Every time I thought, ‘Ah-ha, I’ve got it,’ I would reread and realize I wasn’t anywhere near it.
These characters and this story hold a lot of truths and seeing it on the page often felt too revealing. We went through a lot together, and now I have to let them go. I share them with you and hope you enjoy their journey and their destination.
I must give special thanks to my personal Fab-Four (Melissa, Ruby, Pippa, and Jacqui) for getting me over the stumps and bumps of telling this story while dealing with their busy lives and schedules. Each of them served, at some point, as a motivator, sounding board, truth-o-meter, and soft landing and I am forever grateful.
“There’s no such thing as failure, only feedback!”
Prologue
Last Show of the Season
Spring 2012
Every impulsive act seemed like a good idea at the moment, but in the harsh brightness of overhead fluorescent lighting, with sawdust covering you like a grainy photo filter, suddenly your naked ass on the shop table becomes a rapidly regrettable action.
Harper Harrison would give that more detailed thinking as soon as her legs stopped twitching and she could breathe a little better.
His name and breath slipped between Harper’s lips in shallow pants. Her spasms only served to hold him inside her with a stronger grip. It was like she blacked out for ten seconds. Her body seized and her skin felt like one raw nerve. Their sweat mixed, as his spent body collapsed on hers. Trailing kisses along her neckline, Lucas had to force himself to take his weight off of her body. Lucas rose up on his hands, and they looked at one another a moment longer before completely separating.
Drenched in sweat and covered in sawdust, Harper was still trembling. Never one to cut corners, by the time he reached his completion, he’d sent her over the edge twice. Sex between them was always high stakes. It was risky, quick, and usually in tucked away corners of their second home, backstage.
She often wondered what it would feel like to truly make love to him in a bed and wake up surrounded by him. She would be cocooned in his strong arms, with his smooth, broad chest pressed against her back, and his goatee would be tickling her shoulder as he leaned in to kiss her neck. Turning in his arms, Harper would savor his morning kisses and slow love making, as she ran her hands across his bald head, lightly scratching, the way he loved. Harper had dated her fair share of men in college and after, but Lucas Mason was the first one who checked all her boxes. From the dimple in his chin to his hazel eyes that darkened at will, depending on his mood, he had all sorts of wow factors, and Harper wanted to get lost in them all on a more than semi-monthly basis.
It was a wasted fantasy, though, because romantic nights weren’t what they did. Up against the wall, in the booth, on and over a desk, and presently on top of the shop table, was what they did. Noisy, exuberant, and, on occasion,
(that time in the catwalk came to mind) contortionist sex was their speed, and they were great at it. They’d been working overtime to experience as many hands-on opportunities as possible. There was only one weekend left in the show’s run before they struck and they both moved on to their next gig.
“Whew! Damn, that was, um—damn,” she said.
“I’ll be right back. Are you sure you have a degree in English?” Lucas said, finally releasing the hold on her waist and kissing her quickly before his shirt was over his head.
Resting back on her elbows, Harper shouted that she wasn’t planning a disappearing act, but they both knew she was perfectly capable of leaving without a trace. He returned carrying his beat up old backpack that was always kept in the back of his truck when he freelanced. He had been telling her to do the same for the last three months, since she always complained about needing a sweater or a change of shoes.
“What’d you bring me?” Harper asked, then added, “Nothing too naughty, I hope, keeping in mind that you’ve already worn me out.”
“Oh, baby girl, I don’t keep that bag in the car. I have no desire for an awkward traffic stop.”
“You’re hilarious!”
“Well, I thought I might interest you in a sexy dressing room shower for two, milady,” Lucas proposed, with an added deep waist bow. His antics weren’t unexpected after weeks spent working on a period show. She’d been getting milady for weeks.
Guzzling half the bottle of water he handed her, Harper held her arms out for him to help her down from the work table. The itching intensified the moment the ecstasy diminished. Lucas wasn’t the tallest man she’d ever been with, yet he still surpassed her diminutive stature. Currently, her feet dangled off the side of the table, and scooting to the edge wasn’t an option. Splinters in her ass didn’t sound fun at all. The useless efforts made to remove random sawdust from her backside, and everywhere else, caused him to laugh as he watched her put her feet back into her shoes. Hand-blinged crystal covered wedge style flip flops, which added to her height and his irritation, they were shoes that would be considered cute to anyone who wasn’t a technical director, especially in the middle of the scene shop.
“It’s not funny, Lucas. This might be worse than sand. I don’t even want to think about the crevices it’s sticking to.”
Shifting from side to side, she threw him another glare, but her eyes said her heart wasn’t in it. Tossing her head from side to side, Harper was running her hands through her hair vigorously. When she walked into the shop to say she was leaving, both of them quickly decided that parting ways wasn’t what either of them wanted. He’d scolded her for sneaking up on him while he was holding a drill in his hand. Of course, Harper didn’t intend to startle him as she ran her hand down the center of his back, but she did want to get his attention. As soon as his hands were drill free, they were full of her. A benefit of her small size and agility was that she had little trouble leaping up on anything she wanted to reach. The next thing she knew, he was sitting on the edge of the work table with her straddling him. Pretty soon, kissing and fondling over clothes wasn’t enough. That was how she eventually ended up on her back with tiny pieces of sawdust clinging to her sweat moistened backside.
“Great. It looks like I’ll be making an off-week hair appointment, too.”
“You ask nicely, and I’ll wash it for you in the shower.”
Harper’s laughter drove her into convulsions. Bottled water spewed from her mouth, and she ended up thrusting both arms in the air to expand her lungs, as she started choking from water slipping down the wrong pipe.
“It’s not that funny.”
“Yeah, it kind of is. I’m not sure who that suggestion is more offensive to, me or Tasha. She is the only one whose hands tangle in this head. One shampoo from you, and she’ll be cutting the knots out.”
Lucas moved directly in front of her. The intense look on his face was causing a little shiver to run down her spine; sliding his hand around her neck, he made sure he had a solid handful of her thick, black curls as he tugged her head to the side in order to trail kisses from her neck to her lips. By the time his tongue was in her mouth, her hands were under his shirt, and her butt was bumping the edge of the table again. When he was done devouring her into an appropriate state of need, Lucas let her go. Harper stumbled and reached back to steady herself. She used her other hand to run her fingers across her thoroughly kissed mouth. Once he was certain her legs would keep her upright, Lucas gave her backside a firm smack.
Harper refused to rub or react, and held his stare. Everything was a contest of who would blink first with them.
“Always have to prove a point, don’t you?” she said.
“Funny. You didn’t seem to mind my hands tangling in your hair, just now.”
There was no way to break his gaze without looking like she was giving in too quickly. Instead, Harper covered her nerves with a laugh.
“As long as there’s no shampoo involved, mister. Now, there was the promise of a shower. I’ll take a pass on the hair washing, but you’re welcome to explore all the other parts of me with those talented hands.”
In a blink, he turned to grab the backpack.
“Deal. Here. Take this in with you and start the water.”
“You’re so compulsive. I know you’re going to check all of the doors.”
Harper poured some water into her hand and flicked it at him, then took off. He was out of the shop and chasing after her fleeing, giggling form in an instant, and all the while fussing about her open toed shoes and the fact that she played too much. She always saw it as her personal mission to keep him spontaneous and on his toes.
A half hour later, they were lounging in the green room, consuming what even a college freshman would consider dubious eats. Harper was wearing one of his t-shirts and his sweatshirt with a pair of her shorts. He never understood that about girls. Her legs weren’t cold, yet the top half of her body needed to be swathed. His little sister was the same way, although she’d annoyingly mentioned once that the reason she showed so much leg was because they were her best asset. He was glad Harper had never expressed such a brazen sentiment, even though he was sure Kelly only said it to get a rise out of him.
“This cheese smell funky to you? Huele como el culo. Tal vez ha estado aquí demasiado tiempo,” Harper said without looking and shoved the suspect queso in the direction of his nose.
Head in his lap, Harper absently stared at the ceiling as she shoveled in other items from the random assortment of snacks. She could never be accused of having a petite appetite. Rarely did she have a meal, but she was all about snacking. Grateful for youth and good genes, Harper dreaded the day that working out became mandatory and not optional. Mostly, she kept it in check, but there were times when her cravings leaned more toward Doritos than carrot sticks. Their provisions were part opening night party leftovers, double show Saturday leftovers, and rounding out the smorgasbord was the finest in vending machine chocolates and drinks.
“Babe, if we start questioning the cheese, this whole fancy meal sort of falls apart.”
“Right. Hard pass on the cheese, thank you very much. So, what’s next?” Harper asked.
Lucas felt her body stiffen a bit, and her tone dropped to a more serious sounding whisper.
“Okay, time for my special late night, rejuvenating elixir. You might be done, young lady, but I need to prep work for the guys to do in the morning.”
“Um-hmm.”
Fine, thought Harper. She wasn’t going to address it directly, if he wasn’t. Resigned, Harper knew that it would be as it always was at that point. Lucas consistently deflected any conversation headed toward a discussion on commitment. He was up and moving around the room, putting as much physical space between them as he could without it getting awkward. Usually willing to let it go, Harper mentally shifted and decided to do something different. She swung her legs around and turned to look at him as he tried to retreat.
“How about n
ow? I want an answer, Lucas.”
This was the hardest part of their tryst—attempting to keep things light and playful while holding out hope for something more. Harper had no problem being a vibrant, sexual woman. She simply didn’t want to be that with every hot guy she encountered, and she encountered plenty. There were actors, designers, and even crew members Harper would've gladly taken to the futon. Lucas didn’t exactly know that, but the reality was that she was eligible, and she wanted him to realize that, without explicit explanation. He just didn’t act like he wanted more. The sex was phenomenal, but any time Harper pressed for a little more, Lucas acted like he wasn’t capable. He erected an invisible wall against anything too emotional and could sidestep the unwanted topic with tremendous ease. Harper knew it would be at least another three months, post-strike, before even the possibility of their working together again arose.
“Harper, you know what’s next. We go back to our regularly scheduled lives.”
“Eso apesta!” Lucas’s incredulous look had her cocking her head to the side. “That sucks!”
“I’m back to The Ink on Monday, Harper. Don’t you need to start pre-production on the musical? Or did you decide to take a break?”
“I can’t afford breaks any more than you can. My inheritance bought that condo, but my working keeps the lights on. Besides, I’ll be at both high schools working on their fall productions. I thought The Ink was going to hire you an assistant TD?”
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