“Cooking wine,” Dana replied.
Samara stepped out of the shower and said, “What? No, I’m not drinking cooking wine. You don’t drink cooking–”
Dana laughed loudly and said, “I’m kidding. It’s a pinot. You have that on your list.”
“Oh,” she said. “Thank God,” she muttered to herself.
She headed out to the bedroom and quickly closed the door so that she could change.
“I’ll be right out,” she repeated.
“Okay,” Dana replied.
Samara pressed her back against the closed door and tried to gather herself. She’d just been seconds away from coming while picturing Dana fucking her with a strap-on, so her entire body was still on fire. Her clit was uncomfortable, and now, her body was begging for something or someoneto fill her up and make her come. Perfect time to have the very caterer and possible co-star she’d been fantasizing about over for dinner.
CHAPTER 10
Dana had only caught sight of Samara in a towel, with wet hair dripping down over her shoulders, for a split second, a microsecond, really, before the bedroom door had closed, but it had been enough to bring her back to earlier that afternoon when she’d held Samara against her, running her hands under her shirt when she probably hadn’t been supposed to. That was what Samara likely wanted to talk to her about. It was an audition, not the real thing, and Dana could have adapted for that. Hands could have been more loosely draped, or at least, goneoverthe damn T-shirt, which had been pretty thin as it was, and she still could have gotten a feel of the warmth of Samara’s soft skin through that just fine.
She could only pray silently, as she plated their meals, that doing something stupid without checking if it had been okay with Samara first wouldn’t cost her this chance to do the thing she loved most in the world because this whole day had been amazing. She’d gotten to audition for a movie, and the adrenaline rushing through her had carried her exhausted body to this point, where she was probably about to get scolded for touching Samara inappropriately. Even if she didn’t get the part, though, this whole experience had renewed her desire to follow through on more than just local community theater. There was nothing wrong with community theater, of course, and she loved most of it, but when she’d reluctantly taken off for school with a big push from her mother, her plan hadn’t ever been for Broadway. It had been for film, for Hollywood, and for finding the right characters that she could bring to life. The fame and the money were secondary. If she never got to the A-list level but had steady work as a B or C-lister, she would have been happy. She’d always just wanted to act.
“Hi.”
Dana looked up from pouring Samara a glass of wineand noticed that Samara was wearing a pair of black sweats, looking way too good for someone wearing a plain light-blue cotton T-shirt. Her feet were in flip-flops that managed to look more expensive than Dana’s car, and her hair was still down and wet, though it had been brushed through.
“Hey. Um… I should have let it breathe. Sorry, I–”
“No, it’s fine,” Samara said, looking down at the table. “I’m not a wine snob.”
“I guess that makesonething,” she joked.
“One thing?” Samara asked as she sat down at the two-seater bolted-down table and took one of the paper napkins supplied by the hotel, placing it delicately in her lap.
It was kind of cute how she’d done that, so Dana tried not to smile as she watched it happen, but she couldn’t help it, so she had to turn away from her. She couldn’t think that Samara was cute right now.
“One thing you’re not a snob about,” she replied.
“Oh. Touché, I suppose.”
“So, you wanted to talk?” Dana asked as she sat down across from her.
“What did you bring for yourself?” Samara asked her instead.
“I grabbed some of the lunch leftovers,” she replied.
“Why?”
“Because your food was ready,” she said. “And I wasn’t about to get yelled at again for it being too cold. Besides, I’m having dinner with my sister, so I brought this mainly because you seemed to demand it.”
She looked down at her own plate which had the salad and green beans with almonds that she had placed there haphazardly as she’d practically run out the door to get the food to Samara.
“I see,” Samara said and picked up the fork that Dana had set out for her. “Thank you for doing all this, by the way, setting it up like an actual meal.”
“Yeah, no problem. Are you being nice to me because you’re about to have me fired for real this time?”
“What?” Samara asked, sounding shocked, and put the regular water glass that held her wine down. “No. Why would I do that?”
“Act like that hasn’t happened already. And I don’t know. You’re not usually this nice to people, from what I’ve seen.”
