Rickon places a protein bar and chocolate probiotic milk in front of me, subtly taking care of my needs and reminding mehe’s present. He looks paler than normal, his slender purple eye wings making him appear cat-like. When he drops his backpack on the floor and settles in his chair, I take his hand. We’re both empty without our alpha.
“Okay, if everyone is ready, let’s get started,” the intimacy director says, calling us to order. “Today we’re discussing the upcoming sex scene. Since this is your first sex scene, Red, we’ll go slow and make sure you understand how everything works.” She pauses and smiles at me to make sure I’m paying attention.
I nod.
“As per the scene, James picks Ashana up from the hospital and drives her home.” She checks her notes and reads from the script’s action instructions. “Having faced the fear of losing her after the accident at the starting gate, as they’re about to part ways, he kisses her in the car. After a lingering kiss, she hesitates with her hand on the door, and then invites him inside.”
Rickon passes me a copy of the scenes with visual cues neatly printed on them. He’s found a series of cute line drawings in his design app to represent the different actions, and I throw him a grateful smile. I’ve practiced my reading over the months, so I’m getting better, but the words still swim on the page most of the time. Even with the chaos in our lives, Rickon keeps feeding me scene notes and script recordings as I need them. One night I found him up at 2 am, recording an update in the script that wrote in my fall at the starting gates.
“What?” he whispers when I stare too long.
I snort softly. “Just can’t take my eyes off you,” I murmur, quiet enough for only him to hear.
A faint blush runs up his neck. I get a visual of us in fifty years’ time, going gray and wrinkly with Rickon still blushing at every sweet word. If we can survive this season, I’ll make sure I whisper honeyed words to him every single day. He deserves it.
The coordinator pauses and waits until I give her my full attention before continuing. “Now, this scene will contain moments with a mix of wonder coupled with desperation as the sexual tension comes to a boil. We’ll start with Ashana’s shirt coming off in the entry hall—” She points a pen in Bradley’s direction. “Pay attention to Ashana’s bandages. Each one will remind you that you nearly lost her.”
Brad nods. His brow furrows with concentration as he scribbles notes on his script, studiously avoiding my gaze. I guess you don’t become one of the world’s most famous actors without learning to separate work from personal feelings.
Not sure it’s going to be that easy for me, though. Brad’s scent repulses me now, and the thought of his hands on my body makes me shudder. Well, I need to suck it up for the sake of my job. This career is what’s making me famous enough for anyone to care about my press conference.
And I’ve been through worse.
The coordinator sets a padded portfolio on the table and rests her notepad on top. “Now, let’s pause and make sure I have the correct details as per your contracts. Brad, you’ve agreed to expose pubic hair and full ass shots. Red, you’ve agreed to exposed ass and nipples but no visible labia or penetration. Do I have that right?”
Brad twitches and sneaks a glance at me, his expression unreadable. I guess he’ll be getting closer to my body than I wanted.
Ignoring the jerk, I swivel to face Rickon for confirmation.
My alpha gazes at me, brow deeply furrowed. “A lot happened, Red, so I’m sure they’ll be understanding if you want to renegotiate your terms.”
The love in his eyes makes me feel like I can climb all the stupid mountains Leanne talked about.
“It’s fine,” I say blithely. “I’ll just pretend he’s Zack.” Well, honestly, Zack’s bigger. Brad’s pretty close to Callisto’s build—more defined in his muscles thanks to his workout schedule, but somehow far less elegant than the classy lawyer. I smother a smile as Brad frowns at my declaration.
Fuck him . . . but not literally.
“All right, then.” The sex coordinator ticks two lines on her notepad and continues. “We’ll film in a restricted space, with only the bare minimum of team members.”
I exchange smirks with Rickon at the unintended pun.
“Now, because of the skin contact and scents, it’s very normal for arousal to occur, especially with a healthy alpha and omega in the room. When it happens, if anyone gets uncomfortable, just ask for a cut and we’ll take a break until everyone’s ready to continue.” After flashing me a reassuring smile, she flips open the folio. “Since we’ve covered that, let’s get into the specifics of the intimacy.”
I sip my milk and watch as she pulls items out of her folder.
She holds up a silky length that reminds me of pantyhose. “For the men, we have nude penis wraps. This acts like a sock around the genitals, with a sticky liner to keep it in place on the groin.” She slides it across the table for me to have a look at. “Brad’s done this before, so I’m sure he knows how they work.” The coordinator glances at Brad, continuing after he nods in agreement. “And for the women, we have two choices: Shibues and C-strings.” She places the tiny scraps matched to my brown skin tones within reach.
Rickon grabs a little silicone liner and slots it together with the Shibue, showing how it will adhere to my body, using his palm for reference.
The coordinator points. “Now, we prefer the Shibue because it’s less visible and most actresses say it’s more comfortable, butyou’re welcome to take these and try them out and then let me know before we film.”
I stare down at the flimsy pieces in my hands.
“If you have questions, please ask,” she says, catching my hesitation.
I hold the scrap up and let it dangle from my fingers. “Not much to try, is there?” It has even less substance than the G-string I wore to the film festival.
Rickon makes a sound suspiciously like a laugh, but he turns it into a cough when I spin around to inspect him. He drops his gaze, and I just know he has something deliciously wicked on his mind.
